What happens when a bunch of killers are forced to live together?
BATTLE OF THE KILLERS is a reality show that follows Betinia Woods, a girl kidnapped and forced to live in an underground bunker with twelve other killers. The bunker is equipped wit...
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WHAT?
Snatching my arm from his grip, I kicked his kneecap, hearing a pop. All he did was grunt before he gripped my arm, tugging me close to him until I smacked into his side.
I glared at his grinning face, struggling in his hold. "If you knew this whole time, then why'd you bring me here? Why'd you tell me all that shit?"
"Cause I had nothing else better to do." His eyes met mine, drilling into my soul. "Plus I like this side of my delicious peach. It's hot as fuck." He let out a cackling laugh.
I narrowed my eyes at him, rage boiling over. "You came between me and that traitor bitch." Tossing my hip into his thigh, he stumbled away from me, and I jabbed at his face.
His hand snatched my fist out of mid-air, bringing it downward in one quick movement. That motion caused my body to tumble to the ground, landing hard on my back. Fucker.
Sweeps of pain rocketed up my back, fueling that rage even more. I could feel it shifting through me like bugs on my skin, crawling over every part of me, consuming everything.
Jookie laughed at me again, adding gasoline to the fire brewing inside me. "So you were going to kill her because you made a stupid mistake? Does that make sense?"
"What stupid mistake?"
His purple eyes rolled at me, hand still clutching my wrist on the ground. "From the beginning, you spent this whole game helping and protecting a mere stranger who did nothing for you in return. Ever. This game is about survival. Being a good person won't help you survive."
"So you're saying that I deserved what I got?"
"You knew upfront that she was a horrible constestant. She never participated in any of the challenges. No one in their right mind would've partnered with her."
"Fuck you."
He pouted at me, eyes twirling in savage delight. "Can't handle the truth?"
My open hand punched at his face, but he smacked it away.
"I like your dedication, but you're not going to beat me," he said.
I thinned my lips. "Bet you I can."
He gave me a wicked smirk. "Alright. I love a challenge," he said, massaging my wrist. "If you can make me yield, I'll owe you one."
"Meaning what?"
"I'll tell you who your sponsor is." He cocked his head to the side. "And if I win, you do whatever I want." His tone darkened on that last part.
I pushed him away from me, rolling to my feet. "Deal."
We squared off in front of the waterfall, eyes focused only on each other. A thick tension blanketed the moist atmosphere, making it feel like a tornado was just on the horizon.
