The White Games

14) Chapter Fourteen

#10 Haviana Greyson – Day Four – 12:01 AM

Someone is in this lighthouse with us.

There's an odd moment where I feel nothing but a detached desire to go up there and slay that person, kill them for Jotaro. Then there's fear. And dread. Then both at once. Because I know that while there's currently three people inside this lighthouse, not all of us are coming out alive.

I know they are here because I could hear their datapad ringing during Mr. White's announcement.

"Killian!" I whisper. At first I think she's somehow fallen asleep, but then her head turns towards me and her large green eyes blink open.

"Yes?" She asks.

"Were you asleep?"

"No. I haven't slept since this game started." My jaw drops in surprise. I'm taken back that she doesn't sound tired at all.

"Do you ever sleep?" I'm amazed that Killian can still function, let alone hold a conversation.

"Yes..." Her eyes swivel away from mine, taking in the drafty circle that is the lighthouse's bottom floor. "Just not as much as other people. I have insomnia..." She sounds a little lifeless. No wonder.

"Well, get yourself hidden somewhere good. We don't wanna come a gutser."

Killian blinks. "What does that even mean?"

"No time to explain. I wanna slay that fruit loop before the sun comes up." I pat the blade of my sickle. It should prove more then enough to deal with the Challenger. But my worries are with Killian. She's not as reliable as I am.

"Okay." Killian huddles herself into a ball, and presses against the back wall. "I'll just stay here, then." There's an odd note to her voice, that's bloody sure. Ain't too sure what it is or why, though.

"Righto. I'll be back once it's done." I ensure that she's hidden behind the boxes and make my way to the spiral staircase. Each step is metal, and no matter how lightly I step, my steps give off a vibrating echo. They'll know I'm coming.

But how does that matter? There's nowhere for them to go, and I have the only door out of here tied shut. They have to fight me.

The stairs continue. Longer then I'd like. I near the bloody top, and see a bright light stemming from the large circular center. Someone turned the lighthouse on. Of course. Their eyes will have adjusted, but mine haven't. I don't have the time to stop myself before blundering out onto the top floor.

The brilliant beam of light shines into my face. Hotter and more intense then I would have thought. I raise my hand to block the shafts of light when a shape lunges from over the railing.

A sharp blade slices across my shoulder. I feel prickling pain as droplets of red blood fly from the wound.

Then something's trying to shove past me, running for the stairs. Panicked, I kick my legs out and connect with a shin. I hear my attackers grunt as he trips over it and hits the ground hard.

#18 Lucas rises, wiping my blood away from his face. His right hand holds a knife—also stained with my blood. His green eyes—as dark as Killian's are bright—fume with a cold rage. "You don't know when to quit," He snarls and throws a kick aimed for my face, which I narrowly avoid.

"Ain't no running, you filthy mongrel!"

I heave myself up, swinging my sickle in an arc for his head. He steps inside the arc, slashing his shorter blade and once again connecting with my shoulder. I cry out in pain as he slams a foot down onto my toes.