The White Games

28) Chapter Twenty-Eight

Imogen Sykes – Day Eight - 1:50 AM

Tori's machete comes streaming towards my face. I slap the blade away with my own machete, the force of the blow vibrating through the steel and coursing down my arm. I can't keep this up forever. She's just too strong.

"What do you hope to accomplish by killing me?" I ask, jumping backwards as Tori takes another swing. The long-limbed girl is forcing me back down the tunnel, constricting my movement and forcing me towards the door where Oreo fled.

I don't regret sending her away. She doesn't need to be apart of this fight—Tori isn't after her. She can fight on and try to win this game. I need to settle this myself. And, with my victory, she'll be that much closer to winning.

"Killing you brings me one step closer to victory!" Tori swings the axe-like weapon—a tomahawk—-and I throw myself against the wall to avoid being eviscerated. My machete isn't strong enough to deflect a blow from that weapon.

"And?" Keep her talking. She can't focus on the battle that way and maybe, just maybe, she'll slip up and make a mistake. Probably not. But I need some hope to cling to.

When I originally began this fight, I had not expected her to be so strong. Oh, I knew that she was dangerous and would likely kill me—that's why I sent Oreo away—but I hadn't expected the absolute ferocity of her attacks. She fights with brute force, harsh chopping blows and quick stabs. It's taken all I have just to last this long.

I won't last much longer.

The sounds of our battle is the only noise in this dreadful place. The thrum of solid metal as our blades meet. The sound of our footsteps against the concrete floor. My gasp of pain when her blade catches my lower cheek.

"And you deserve to die!" Tori snarls the words as I flounder backwards, droplets of red sliding down my chin. "Misha was killed by your hand. It's only fair that you die by mine."

"I suppose that it is." I've never wanted to die. Has anyone? Even people who sing glorious songs about the afterlife don't want to die. They just don't mind when it happens. I've never understood that way of thinking. Not until this game.

Tori aims another thrust at me. I'm almost backed up into the door now, and I don't have much more room to keep dodging. Soon I will need another strategy.

As I think this, Tori surprises me by swinging her tomahawk horizontally. I throw myself backwards before realizing that the door is just behind me. I crash into it with a thud. The door swings open inwards and I hit the ground, rolling across the dusty floor until my body comes up against a small box.

Tori steps through the doorway, face a mask of destruction and weapons held high.

Instinctively I grab the box and hurl it across the room. Tori's eyes widen in surprise as the box slams into her. She falls in a tangle of limbs, her weapons dropping from her hands and clattering across the floor.

Seeing my opportunity, I throw myself to my feet and dart across the room. Tori tries to do the same, but I'm quicker. By the time she's standing, I've crossed the room. I kick a foot out and her tomahawk goes sliding out the doorway and down the hall, disappearing into the darkness there.

"That won't save you," Tori says. She sounds remarkably calm, despite our situation. You'd be excused for not knowing that she's been attempting to kill me for the last five minutes. "I'm not going to stop until you're dead."

"But why?" There's a lull in the battle. Both of us stand there, staring at one another, breathing heavily. My cheek is still bleeding. "Misha? I didn't want to kill him. It was the mist. But I know you won't care about that."