Fear Games

1. And So It Begins

Josh

Secrets are the root of Fear Games.

These are the words Rachel said to me over a month ago when the Games started again and I visited her at St. Mary's. At the time, Rachel seemed like a total disaster, dealing with the aftermath of all of her friends dying at the hands of Ryan, the original Fear Games killer. 

Now she was talking around our high school like she owned the place.

"You know," Brandon said at lunch that day. "For a girl who was crazy not too long ago, Rachel seems to really have it together."

It was a bit convenient if you asked me, but I tried my best to ignore it. She and Haven got awfully close the more they were together, and something about it just wasn't sitting right with me. Regardless, there was no way they could have been Daisy's helpers--especially not Rachel.

"It's a bit weird," Matt, my possible boyfriend, said. "But it's probably nothing to worry about. Whoever Daisy's helper was hasn't been brave enough to try anything else lately. Isn't that a good thing? Maybe the Games are over."

While that was a good idea in theory, it was an optimistic idea. Too much, anyway. I couldn't get rid of this feeling that the killer was lingering around--watching and waiting for the perfect time to strike again. My gut kept telling me it was true when my mind kept trying to convince me it was over for good.

"Speaking of the Games," Eden said. "How's Damien been doing since his return home?"

"It's been pretty hard on him, actually," I said. "He's coming back next week. I guess he decided that he needed some time and space to think. He did just face a traumatic experience." As did the rest of us. As did Luke, who was now dead. Dead because of me. Dead because of Matt. 

The guilt gnawed away at me every once in a while, and I tried to force it back down. Yes, Luke died. Yes, he died because of me, but Damien would have died too. Or I would have died. It had to be one of us, and Luke, unfortunately, got the brunt of it.

That still didn't make me feel better, no matter how many times I tried to reason with myself.

"I hope he'll be alright," Brandon said. "Poor guy. It's probably hard for him too, considering someone else out there wants us dead."

"Thanks," I mumbled. "You have such a way with words."

Brandon shrugged and went back to eating his sub sandwich.

"I've been trying to figure it all out," Eden said. Interestingly enough, after everything that happened with Daisy, she did a complete one-eighty. She was wearing less black and actually wore some vibrant colors. Her hair was still black, but she couldn't do much about that. It was as if the whole situation made her realize being all dark and scary wasn't all that great--well, maybe. "I can't seem to fit all the puzzle pieces together. That night at the graveyard, there were two people--Daisy, who was obviously the Lion, and then the Masquerade."

"Your point?" I asked. "We already know all this?"

"But do we?" Eden asked. "Remember the day that--" She stopped, and we all knew what day she was talking about. The day that Clary died. "When Clary died, there was a Masquerade there, right?"

"Yes, and I practically chased them through the parking lot like a superhero," I said. "My adrenaline kicked in."

"Yes, yes," Eden said. "We all know that. But that person clearly wasn't Daisy, right?"

"But Daisy took the credit for it," Matt said. "Isn't that enough?"

"Not exactly," I said, finally understanding Eden's drift. "If Daisy was the Lion in black, she wasn't the Masquerade, so what were they doing there?"