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The Adventure Games
By Ringo Cross
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(Chapter 2: continued...)
Luckily, I remembered where the room was. I led the way alright. Not because I was told to by some annoying bully, but because I wanted to. We all made our way towards the coffin room. It was in a corridor, at the end of the bunker, with only one other room.
The room was labeled “Mausoleum.” I opened the large steel door and turned on the lights. There were four unmarked coffins on the floor. I didn’t really think much into it at the time, but I did wonder why there were only four coffins and seven people. Not only that but didn’t vampires sleep in coffins? And if they were to have an accident, where would their bodies go? This was all a lot to take in. A thought came to me, I, I—
“Hey, jerkoff! Get out of the way,” Brock growled.
His insult snapped me back into reality. I quickly stepped aside so that he could get by with Aaron’s body. Roger and Markus rushed over and slipped the lid off the first tomb. Brock dumped the body inside. After doing so, he hunched over, placed his hands on his knees, and began to pant. “Damn. I’m out of shape.”
“Dude. You’re ripped,” I told him.
“How much do you think he weighs?”
“167 pounds,” Markus coldly replied.
Brock and I gave each other “that look” before we both shrugged his chilling comment off as a vampire just being his normal creepy self. He looked over at Markus, wiped the sweat from his brow, and told him, “I should be able to carry 167lbs no problem.”
Lisa took one step inside and was like, “Nope. Won’t be doing the coffin challenge.”
“Why not?” Brock asked.
“Too cold!” she shouted back.
“It is freezing in here,” I said.
“Whatever,” she said while leaving.
“Hey? Where’s the girl?” Brock asked.
“I’m right here! I-I don’t wanna look!” she said from the other side of the doorway.
Just then, right when everyone was properly freaked out. Right before any of us could really let the truth of what had happened sink in, the automated voice delivered another eerie message over the loudspeaker:
“Oh, no! Looks like you’ve suffered your first of several inevitable deaths! My condolences to the family. Ha! Just kidding. In all seriousness, please make your way over to the voting room in order to conclude today’s games!
For your convivence, the booth automatically unlocks after a fresh kill! Also, for your convenience, it is located right next to the mausoleum! You can’t miss it! There’s even a sign that says “Democracy” right above the door. Remember, only one person is allowed in at a time. Inside is a booth. There you will vote to see if you can guess who the killer is! If a majority of the votes are right, then the games are over, and you win your prize! If not, then the games will continue! Good luck!”
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Chapter 3: Outsight
I woke up around ten in the morning. It was a tough go, trying to sleep after what had happened. Me and my bunkmate, Markus, had a long talk that night. Well, first, I made him swear that he wouldn’t try anything funny, like, you know, brutally murder me in my sleep.
The guy had a rough exterior, but he wasn’t so bad. It took a bit of convincing, but he eventually came to his senses and stopped assuming the worst of me.
I would be lying if I said last night was the worst sleep I ever had. I wouldn’t be lying if I said that it wasn’t too bad. It took a while to drift off. My mind just wouldn’t let things go. I was convinced this was a prank. There was no way Aaron was gone. And even if he was, it was a terrible accident. I was there. I saw the whole thing go down. Trust me... It was a fluke.
A killer amongst us? Nah, that was absurd. I told everyone as much and announced that I had abstained from voting. Coincidentally, I was the first to enter the small room and go into the booth. There was an option to abstain and that’s what I chose. I told everyone else they should do the same when it was their turn to vote.
We were all sensible people. Mostly everyone agreed with me that there was no way any of this was real. I made the sandwich he supposedly choked to death on but come on... sheer coincidence I tell you.
When Markus and I exited from our room the following morning, the first thing we did was hit the showers. The bathrooms were pristine. There was one for males and females, of course. The inside had a private section for showering and changing. I took a long shower and tried to clear my head. Hopefully today would be much smoother, I thought to myself, as I let the water hit my face.
Everyone was lingering around Roger’s room. When I got there, I asked what they were waiting for. Sarah told me they were waiting for him to wake up so they could see what the task was for the day. Brock’s patience wasn’t exactly the most stoic. He asked what time it was. I told him it was almost eleven. That was all he needed to know. He spazzed out and began banging on the door.
Roger opened it. He was wearing a wool robe that had his initial printed on the front. He smiled when he saw us, as if he liked the unwanted attention. Already knowing what all the fuss was over, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a sealed envelope, and without further ado, read aloud what we all were waiting for:
“Oh my, it looks like we have a riddle on our hands. Ahem. Here goes nothing: ‘Task 2: Even though I have fallen from grace, I have aged gracefully. For now, I leave flight to the imagination. And for now, all I can do is envy my feathered brethren who soar amongst stars and skies. I am free at the cost of freedom. We were judged by what was in the hand and not by what was in the heart. It would be a dream come true for us to all fly again together someday. For us to all shine with pride and purpose once more. We did not heed the hand of the Artisan, and like Icarus, we flew too close to the sun.’”
Roger placed a hand to his chin and thought it over. After spending a few seconds racking his brain, he shrugged and simply said, “I’m stumped.”
“Maybe it’s a mythical bird?” Sarah said.
“You mean like a phoenix?” Markus asked.
“Yeah. Or a griffon or something?”
“Nah. Too obvious,” he replied.
She shrugged, “Well, your guess is as good as mine.”
“My guess is Leonard Davinci,” I spoke.
“Hmm. Interesting,” Markus said.
“How is that interesting? And what does any of this have to do with figuring out who the Big Bad Wolf is?” Brock asked with a hint of mockery.
“Well, I think the riddle has something to do with Davinci’s flying machine. Maybe. No, not maybe. I’m sure someone has tried to build one in real life. If we can find out who, then maybe it’s a clue we can use to figure out who this imaginary killer is,” I explained.
“That’s stupid,” Brock said.
“I have to agree with Brock on this one,” Markus said.
“Whatever. Tch, you guys can crack jokes all you like, but I know I’m right about this.”
“Even if you were right. How do we find out without our phones?” Lisa inquired.
“You know there was a world that existed before smart phones?” I replied.
“There was? Yuk,” she spewed.
“Yeah, and we’d have to use this nifty thing called a book if we wanted information.”
“Like, whatever, I’m famished. Any of you see egg whites in the fridge?” she asked.
“You eat egg whites?” Brock inquired.
“Um. Yeah, who doesn’t?” she scoffed.
“I know right,” he chuckled.
“What’re egg whites?” Sarah asked.
“Sweetie, I feel so sorry for you. It must’ve been hard growing up poor,” Lisa crooned. She placed an arm around the girl in a rare display of affection for someone other than herself. “Let’s check the fridge. If they have any, I’ll show you. Oh, and they’re the best at filling you up without filling you out if you know what I mean.”
“Thanks,” Sarah said while blushing.
I blurted out, “Great! While you guys are off stuffing your faces, I’ll try to figure a way out of here. This is a shelter. Only makes sense for them to have a collection of encyclopedias lying around somewhere.”
“You do that, hero-boy. I’m late for my morning workout. Don’t bother me unless you kill someone else.”
“Whatever, dude,” I grumbled back. Then I looked over at Markus and asked him, “You in?”
“You go on ahead, man. I’ll catch up with you in the next life,” he uttered with drifting eyes. I could see that he was focused on Lisa. So much so, he butted into her conversation with Sarah, offering to help cook, which was received surprisingly well by them.
“I’ll go with you,” Roger said.
“What? Really?” I asked.
“Don’t look so surprised.”
“I’m sorry. I-I just wasn’t—”
“I’ve been to a place like this before. I know exactly where they’d keep an old pile of books.”
“Really? You have?”
“Yeah. Once.”
“That’s odd.”
“You really don’t trust me?”
“I’m leaning towards a no.”
The two of us made our way down the hall, past the sleeping quarters, showers, mini gym, and storage facility. During our leisurely stroll, I thought to ask him about his comment about being at a place like this before.
He looked over at me with a charming smile and said, “I’m glad you asked. So, not long ago, oddly enough right, I threw this wicked masquerade party in a bunker for this stupidly rich family of bluebloods.”
“Bluebloods? What’s that.”
“Humph. I forget you’re human. Look, kid, it’s a terribly long story, and I don’t know you all that well. Let’s just say they’re like royalty. They kind of run everything behind the scenes for... never mind.”
“For who?” I asked.
“Oh, look, the study!”
I found it odd and a little suspect that he was avoiding my question. It also wasn’t smart to be stuck in a room with yet another vampire. I hesitated, taking a step back. When he saw my hesitation, he smiled and gestured for me to enter before him. Reading my mind, he laughed and said that he might be a lot of things, but a brute-force killer wasn’t one of them.
I ignored my instincts and followed him into the room. If there was a killer, he was definitely checking off quite a few boxes, I thought to myself. Right before my imagination could really run wild, we heard a loud scream and a hard thud. We looked at each other in disbelief before rushing back down the hall.
When we reached the kitchen, we both stopped dead in our tracks. There stood the two girls screaming and hollering like there was no tomorrow. Sarah was pointing at the ground, but when I looked, there was nothing. Well, other than a knife on the floor.
“What happened?!” Roger exclaimed.
“Markus! He’s, he’s gone,” Lisa stammered.
“What? Where did he go?” I asked.
“He’s dead!” Sarah shouted.
“What? What do you mean he’s dead?”
“He, he got stabbed and, and, oh God!” Lisa cried.
“If he’s dead, where’s the body?” I asked.
Right before they could answer, Brock came crashing into the room. He was sweating and panting from exercise. The look on his face wasn’t pretty. He charged straight over to them and hollered, “This better not be a joke! I was in the middle of my work out!”
“What? No! No!” Sarah sobbed.
“Where’s Markus?!” he shouted.
“He’s gone!” she shouted back.
“This isn’t funny!” Brock yelled. “Nobody interrupts me when I’m working out, and I mean no one! The last person who did paid me back with a swollen lip!”
I stepped in front of him and said, “Hey, come on man. Chill out.”
“Why if it ain’t hero-boy to the rescue.”
“Pretty big of you to threaten a teenager.”
“What are you her knight in shining armor?”
“No. I’m just allergic to assholes like you.”
He shoved me out of his face with one arm, causing me to stumble back quite a bit. His strength caught me off guard. So much so, I quickly realized there was no way I was going to be able to take him down without a weapon of some sort. So, I quickly scooped the blade off the floor and pointed it directly at him. When I did this, he sneered and snorted, calling me craven. Screw it. I was whatever he said I was. I was tired of his stupid-bully-mouth and ready to jab the blade into his thick neck.
I raised the blade, but before I could strike, Roger dashed before me, and grabbed my wrist. I thought Brock’s speed and strength caught me off guard. Ha. Roger was on a whole nother level. I turned my head in his direction and noticed his fangs. He had this look... this twisted hunger about him. It was hard to describe let alone perceive. It was like staring into the eyes of your own custom-made predator. I wasn’t a person anymore. I was food.
“Knock it off, both of you.”
“He started it,” I muttered.
“And you tried to finish it!” Brock shouted.
“Give me the knife.”
“Fine, it’s all yours.”
When I dropped the knife into his hand, he let go of my wrist. While examining the blade, he spoke, “Now. As to your question. Yes, it’s true, his body disappeared. To be precise, it turned to ashes.”
“Woah. How is that even possible?” I asked.
“I don’t know. That’s just what happens when we die,” Roger calmly explained to us.
Brock stared at Sarah and Lisa, while asking, “And how did he die again, ladies?”
Sarah looked away and said, “Me and Lisa were cooking, and he was helping. And, and—"
“If anything, he was doing more flirting than helping. As if I’d date a vampire,” Lisa scoffed while looking down on the spot where he had perished.
Sarah ran her fingers through her blonde hair in frustration and angst. She pointed at the ham on the counter and said, “He was showing off his carving skills. I turned away for no more than a few seconds, and when I looked back the knife was in his chest. I-I don’t know; He was... he was just standing there, looking at me. He needed help—I-I... I tried to help! It was too late!”
“It’s ok,” I said before going over and comforting her. “It not your fault.”
“Wait. Wasn’t he a vampire?” Brock asked.
“That is correct,” Roger nodded.
“And vampires can only die if they get stabbed in the heart or brain, right?”
“Well, not exactly, that’s more movie logic than reality. But yes, something like that. We don’t die as easily as our human counterparts.”
“Whatever, so if that’s the case, you mean to tell me, he accidently stabbed himself in the heart?” Brock asked.
“It’s plausible,” I murmured.
“Plausible my ass,” he pointed over at Lisa and said, “And where were you standing?”
She folded her arms and rolled her eyes, mightily offended by his line of questioning. “What are you like, a detective or something? I think not.”
“Yeah, well, your good looks don’t fool me.”
“You’re such an ogre,” she groaned.
“You’re avoiding the question,” I told her.
“Tch, hello, if I would have stabbed him, Sarah would have saw me! And if she would have stabbed him, I would have saw her—we were standing right next to each other! Like, duh! What the heck?”
Brock backed down. He looked over at Roger and snarled. “Where were you again?”
“He was with me,” I told him.
“And what were you guys doing?”
“We were looking for the archives so we could solve the riddle. Before we could do anything, we heard screaming and rushed back here, same as you, buddy.”
“Don’t call me buddy. I’m not your buddy.”
“It won’t happen again,” I assured him.
“Hey! What’s your problem?” Roger asked.
Brock stepped right into his face. The two were eye to eye, staring each other down like boxers in the middle of the ring. “You didn’t like Markus, did you?”
“Sure didn’t. So what?”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s a bottom feeder.”
“Is that why you killed him?”
Roger took a step back and unturned. He shook his head in disappointment. I think he was more pissed with himself than with Brock. He let this stupid bully get him riled up with his stupid bully antics. I’m sure he could have easily slain him. Hell, if I was him, I don’t know if I would have shown the same level of restraint.
A-holes like Brock contributed nothing and deserved to be murdered in cold blood. I found myself daydreaming about wrapping my arms around his big, bully neck until the color had drained from his face and his miserable excuse for a life had flashed before my eagerly awaiting eyes. I fantasized about hearing and feeling him struggle to break free. Gasping, hissing—his feet kicking wildly, and his body bucking and thrashing; all in a hopeless plight to break free from my ironclad clutch.
I placed my arm around Sarah and told her, “You know how to play checkers?”
“Who doesn’t?” she asked with an odd look.
“Come on. Let’s go to the dayroom. It’s starting to get a little too crazy in here.”
“Strange...” she muttered.
“It’s not. I saw a checkerboard on the shelf. Let’s play. Tell you what. If you win, I’ll show you how to make the perfect smoothie.”
“Pfft, I’m not a kid.”
“Never said you were.”
“Ugh. Do we even have ingredients?”
“I think we do.”
“Ok. Whatever. Lead the way,” she said the last part sarcastically, as if I was being overbearing.
With a slight chuckle, I told her, “I used to work at a smoothie shop. My sister used to always stop by, and I’d make her these crazy monstrosities. Man... She loved that place, you know. She hated me for quitting. I had to move on. I was getting too old to be making smoothies for a living. So, for Christmas, right, I bought her one of those bullet blenders. She loved that thing. To this very day, whenever I visit mom and dad, she always asks me to make smoothies.”
Sarah wiped the tears from her eyes, looked up at me with a sad smile, and said, “That’s sweet.”
“Hey, Joshua!” Brock shouted.
“What?”
“We’re voting for the Narc tonight!”
“My name is Lisa, thank you very much! And I’m not a freaking narcissist, for your information!”
“Whatever, lady. There’s definitely more to you besides vanity and good looks, nobody’s that dense to join for a blue check mark,” Brock told her before turning his attention back to the rest of us. I did find his reasoning ironic. I was thinking the same thing about his wish, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one.
Anyways, back to Brock’s stupid announcement. He raised his hands, as if to gain everyone’s attention, and then shouted out, “This time we ain’t getting it wrong! We all vote for the Narc so I can go to Malibu!”
“Screw you!” Lisa snapped before marching from the kitchen and joining us in the dayroom. She snatched the remote and turned on the television. I was sitting on the couch, right next to her. Sarah was sitting on the floor, right across from me. I placed the checkerboard on the coffee table and began setting up the pieces.
“Ewww. They don’t even have Netflix,” Lisa moaned.
I looked over at her with a raised eyebrow and asked, “Huh? Why would a doomsday bunker have cable?”
“Ewww. What? No! I said Netflix not cable. Who even has cable? No one’s that stupid.”
“I do. Can’t live without my ESPN.”
“Ugh. That’s because you’re gross.”
“What? How is that gross?”
She looked over at Sarah and said, “Geezer.”
Sarah covered her mouth and giggled. Then when I wasn’t looking, she sneakily made the first move. I didn’t care. I was confident in my abilities. I pushed my checker piece forward, and I told her, “Hah. This should be a walk in the park.”
She quickly countered my move and said, “Ha! Don’t bet on it.”
“Oh, wow, nice one,” I told her.
Seeing the two of us carve out a sliver of joy in a place as joyless as this caused Lisa to cry out in envy, “Ugh. This is stupid. I totally hate this place. I swear. You guys are so lame.”
“Oh, it’s not so bad, minus the two accidents,” I said in an obvious attempt to be optimistic. I didn’t want Sarah’s mind to start wondering. She was only a kid. Man... Her father was a real piece of work. If it were up to me, he’d be the one who was trapped down here, not her. I made a mental note to ask that shady agent, what’s his name? Ah, Agent Adams, why the hell they thought it was a good idea to use kids in their ludicrous experiments.
“So, Sarah. Where’re you from?”
“Maryland,” she sang.
“Nice. What part.”
“The boring part.”
“You feeling alright?”
“Sure. Fine and dandy.”
“You said it like you wasn’t.”
“What would you like me to say?”
“I know. Things have been a little crazy. Don’t worry though. We’ll get through this.”
Lisa cried out, “God! I wish I had my phone!”
She had the nerve to throw a mini tantrum, like a brat whose parents had taken away her privileges for the night. I couldn’t help but look over at Sarah with a loving smile. She smiled back at me, trying her best not to giggle at her bunkmate’s display of selfness. The more I thought about it the more she reminded me of my sister. I... I didn’t want to think about it, but I... I was just happy to see her light up once more. I could only hope my sister was feeling the same. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too long before I saw her again. I imagine she was worried sick about her big brother. Knowing her, the first thing she was going to do was run her fingers through my hair and call me dogface, like the mean but sweet little brat she was.
I tore my eyes away from her, long enough to tell Lisa that, “There’s more to life than social media.”
She glared daggers at me. “If I were the killer, I’d do you next for being so obtrusive.”
“Maybe Brock was right. Maybe we should vote for you?” I told her with a hint of laughter.
“Whatever. Waste your vote. What do I care?”
“You should take a more positive attitude.”
“I’ll start when you stop.”
I looked over at Sarah and smiled. “You’re the only person who still has a roommate you know.”
“I guess I’m lucky.”
“Eh. I don’t know if having a bunkmate like Lisa makes you lucky. I mean, you never know. You could be sleeping in the same room with the killer.”
Sarah and I both waited to see how she’d react. She didn’t even bother lifting her eyes from the television. Instead, she hissed like an angry feline.
Sarah couldn’t help but giggle. “I like you your funny,” she told me.
“He’s completely unbearable,” Lisa countered.
“To be honest, I probably won’t vote for you. I think you’re right. This whole thing’s stupid.”
“Are you going to abstain again?” Lisa asked.
“Yeah. Probably.”
“Yeah, me too,” Sarah seconded.
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Chapter 4: Blindsight
The night went well, relatively speaking. It was odd returning to my room without Markus. I kept having these strange nightmares about his death. Every time I’d wake up and check the top bunk, hoping against hope, and confusion, that I’d see him lying there.
I probably got no more than three or four hours of sleep. The other four were spent laying around restlessly, racking my mind over how I couldn’t wrap my mind around any of this madness. If there was a God, now was his chance to show me a little light, I thought to myself as I drifted off into yet another one of those semi-conscious/semi-unconscious states.
Just thinking about Sarah put a smile on my face. I wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. While we were playing checkers, I learned a lot. I found out that she never knew her mother. She said that there was a woman, who was like a mother figure to her. She said that her father considered this woman to be the most beautiful person in the world. I found the way she phrased it odd, but figured she was just messing with me. Hell, a lot of things about this place were odd, or so I thought.
The rest of the night went surprisingly well. It was like Markus never existed. The only time it hit me was when I was alone in my room. After checkers, Sarah and I went to the kitchen, where surprisingly, we were joined by Brock and Lisa. We had a merry old time. I made smoothies for everyone, except for Roger. He had locked himself in his room with another pricy bottle of whiskey.
The good vibes came crashing down at the end of the night when it was time to vote. Brock had practically demanded we vote for Lisa. He harangued us with a barrage of threats and empty promises.
Whenever I pushed back and asked how he could be so sure, he wouldn’t do anything but brush me off. Even when I pressed the issue all he could say was, “It’s obvious she’s the killer.” And if I didn’t vote for her, “We’d be stuck down here even longer.”
Hmm... ok. That wasn’t really an answer I thought to myself. When he saw that I wasn’t fully on board with his harebrained scheme, he did what bullies do best. Pushed my buttons with reckless fighting words.
He had the nerve to ask if I wanted to go home and see my precious sister again. He told me it would never happen if I didn’t vote for Lisa. Then he asked Sarah if she was ready to show her father how wrong he was. He even asked Roger if he was ready to take his rightful place amongst the elites. He pushed everybody’s buttons that night, with less than eloquent speech about doing our part by voting for Lisa. We all tacitly agreed, less because we wanted to, and more because it was the only way to get him to shut up.
The voting room was very small. Only one person could enter at a time, or the actual door to the voting booth itself wouldn’t budge. The whole thing was a bit overboard to be frank. It had all the bells and whistles typical of any state-of-the-art security system.
There were eight buttons in total. Seven out of the eight corresponded with our images on screen. The last corresponded with the option to abstain. This had been my go-to button thus far. Only after pressing one of the eight buttons would the door automatically unlock.
This was why we had all tacitly agreed to vote for Lisa when Brock had schemed up the dimwitted idea. It really didn’t matter how much he huffed and puffed. He had no way to blow our house down. We could vote for whoever we wanted, and he would be none the wiser.
The vote failed that night. When this happened, Brock and I had a bit of a verbal spat. He called me out for abstaining. Things almost got ugly. He went so far as to call me idiotic and undemocratic. He really pushed my buttons when he claimed that I was setting a bad example for Sarah.
I tried to explain it to him, why I had been abstaining this whole time. Holding out on the possibility that this was all a sick prank to see how far we’d go. Call me naïve all you want. But I believed in the good of man... and vampires, I guess. I refused to believe that any of this nonsense was real.
What if two government agents, who claimed to work for a department you never heard of, and couldn’t Google because they toyed with the paranormal, arrived at your doorstep with an incredible promise to save someone you loved. What price would you be willing to pay?
All you had to do was enter into what seemed like, at the time, a very innocent event they aptly named the Adventure Games. Would you say no?
Oh. And trust me, I know what you’re thinking. “There had to be another way.” And you’re right. Maybe there was, but time was of the essence. My sister was dying and tomorrow couldn’t wait.
Sorry about that. It was just something I needed to get off my chest. Ok, so like I was saying, before I went on a tangent. My decision to undermine the process, by not voting for Lisa, like Brock demanded, really got under his skin. He ended up not talking to me for the remainder of the night. I was fine with that. It’s not like he was the most personable guy on the planet.
He decided to get blasted out of his mind on boozes. I guess he had had enough because he really let go. Everyone called it a night after that, everyone except for Brock. It didn’t matter, he could do what he wanted. We all locked our doors and hunkered down for the night. I did check on him from time to time, only to see him slouched in front of his door. He was singing and swearing like a lonesome sailor stranded somewhere on Drunk Island.
He blathered about having a ton of Navy buddies, and how he never worked up the courage to enlist. I would say we talked off and on, but that would be a lie. He drunkenly and wantonly confessed and professed to things I would consider nonsensical and other things I would consider mildly and surprisingly sensible.
The calm and quietness of the night was broken by an eerie scream early in the morning. It was so ear piercing and undeniable. I knew without having to think; something dire had happened. Someone else had died. I jumped from my bed and rushed out the room. The screams came from Lisa and Sarah’s room! Oh God, I thought to myself, as I began banging on the door like a maniac. “Hey! What’s going on?! Everything okay?! Hello?! H—"
The door opened and what I saw made me place a hand to my mouth in horror. Lisa was hanging from the top bunk by the neck. The sight was rather unsightly. Her tongue hung from her mouth and her eyes were wide open. Her frail, pale frame made to look like a Jack-o’-lantern swinging from the porch of a cloistered cul-de-sac.
I stepped from the room and gaged. Brock and Roger came crashing through only to be met by the same wretched sight. “Oh, dear God!” Roger cried out before swiftly exiting from the room. He placed his back to the wall and exhaled as if he had been underwater.
“What happened?!” Brock shouted.
“I-I-I don’t know!” Sarah screamed.
“What’d you mean you don’t know?” he yelled.
“I don’t know! I-I woke up and saw her like this!”
Brock backed off. His eyes bounced up and down as he studied Lisa’s corpse. After a while, he shook his head and said, “The guilt must’ve gotten to her.”
“That doesn’t seem right,” I said.
“Isn’t it obvious. She hung herself. The guilt from being the killer must’ve been too great.”
“Eh. I don’t know, Brock,” I said.
He came over to me and gave me a light shove in the chest. “Yeah, and if you would’ve voted for her like I said, we wouldn’t be stuck in this stupid predicament.”
“The killer could be you,” I said.
“Ha! Is that so, tough guy?”
“You’re the only tough guy.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Who knows, maybe the whole drunk thing was a routine.”
“Yeah. It was and I snuck into their room and strung her up while Sarah was sound asleep. You need to work on your detective skills, hero-boy.”
I stepped into his face. “What’s your problem?”
He stepped into mine. “You’re my problem.”
That’s when I told him, “I’m sick of your mouth.”
“Oh, yeah? Take your best shot, hero-boy.”
“Call me that one more time and I won’t hesitate.”
“Hey! Hey! Back off!” Roger cried out.
He swiped Roger’s hand off his chest and snapped, turning his fury and ire on the vampire. “Don’t think I didn’t see you! You sneaky bloodsucker!”
“What are you going on about now?” Roger asked.
“I woke up in the middle of the night! That’s right. I snapped out of my ‘drunken routine.’” Then he pointed at Roger and claimed, “Right before I went to my room, I saw this creep, creeping down the hall.”
Roger rolled his eyes before dismissing his accusations out of hand, “Please. I was getting ice.”
“Ha! That’s the best you can come up with?! You were getting ice? Hah! That grand suite of yours doesn’t come with an ice machine?” Brock asked.
“Oh, darling, if I wanted to kill Lisa, you would be the last to know. I may not look the part, but I do know a thing or two about hunting your kind.”
Bully laughed as if somehow Roger’s statement was a gotcha moment. Then the oaf treated our ears to, “So, you just admitted to killing people! Ah-ha!”
“I am a vampire, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Ugh. Whatever. So, you don’t have an ice maker in that killer suite of yours?” he asked.
“Apparently not, or I would not have been caught dead fetching ice from the kitchen.”
“Yeah, well, if for some reason when we all vote for Lisa tonight, like we should have done last night, and the game doesn’t end, we know who to vote for next.”
“Spare me,” Roger said with a contemptuous hiss before adding, “And the girl? What about her?”
“What are you going on about?”
“My money’s on her.”
“Hey! I didn’t do anything!” she cried out.
“I don’t know, sweetheart,” Roger told her.
“Screw this,” she said before storming off.
I gently grabbed her by the arm before she could scamper too far and said, “Hold on.”
“Are you going to accuse me now?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Then let me go.”
“Let’s hear him out.”
“So, you are siding with him?”
“I’m not siding with anyone.”
“Then let go of my arm!”
“Roger, you dirty rascal,” Brock laughed.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
Brock placed a hand to his chin and took on the role of amateur detective. After ruminating, he said, “Ok. So, let me get this straight. You think a scrawny teenager somehow strung up a grown woman—with not so much as a peep coming from the room, huh? I examined the body. No scratches, bruises, or other marks that would indicate struggle. The only bruising is around her neck from the makeshift noose.”
Roger glared at Brock. He didn’t even bother to respond, instead he looked over at her and said, “Sarah, my darling, may we see your hands?”
“For what?” she asked.
“To see if there are any marks.”
She raised her arms without flinching. That age-old teenage defiance oozed from her voice when she asked, “And why would there be any scratches?”
Roger frowned. He looked at her with a suspicious eye and said, “Thank you.”
“Whatever,” she muttered before storming off. I could hear her mumbling invectives to herself as she made her way down the hall.
“Ok! Great! So, we’re all voting for Lisa this time?” Brock announced.
“Wait. Can we vote for a dead person? And if we do, does that even count?” I asked.
“Uh, why wouldn’t it? I’m sure we can vote for Aaron, or Markus too if we wanted—their names still appear on the screen when you vote, right?”
“Yeah, but they could be trying to throw us off.”
“Can you just vote for Lisa this time, pal? I’m trying to get the hell out of here.”
“Sure. What’s the task for today?” I asked.
“The what?” he asked with a flustered expression.
“You know? The daily task or whatever. Last time it was a riddle that we never solved.”
Brock threw up his hands and then began making his way down the hall. “I’m done with this.”
“Wait!”
“What?”
“Let’s at least put Lisa’s body in the tomb. Then we can all head to the kitchen.”
“Sure. Why not,” he grumbled back.
“Hey, Roger, can you read the task for today—we did get another card, right?”
He snagged the red envelope that was sticking out of the front pocket of his fluffy wool robe and waved it back and forth, saying, “Already one step ahead of you.”
Brock glared at him. I could tell that his suspicion had firmly settled on Roger. I knew what he was thinking because I was thinking the exact same thing. Why was he given the grand room while the rest of us were forced to sleep on bunkbeds? What was he hiding? Why was he assigned the job of reading the task cards? If there was a killer, did they want to make it so obvious as to lull us into a false sense of absurdity?
“You two go on ahead. I’ll take her body to the burial room,” Roger spoke. His voice was a bit raspier than usual. I noticed because the timbre stabbed into my thoughts, helping the conspiracy locomotive in my head gather a good head of steam. And with that, all I could do was utter, “Uh, ok?” in response.
He winked, and said, “I’ll be quick.”
Brock wasn’t having it. He stopped dead in his tracks, turned around, and said, “Anything, you’d like to confess while you’re at it?”
“I’m not going to drink from her corpse if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m a vampire not a ghoul. And besides, feeding on stale blood won’t help any. If anything, it’ll only make my carvings that much worse.”
“Uh... Ok...” I muttered.
He walked over and gave me a pat on the back. “You’re overthinking it. It’ll be faster this way. I can use my unholy talents to dispose of her body much faster than the two of you combined.”
“Thanks,” I murmured before looking over at Brock to make sure he was hearing what I was hearing.
“Freak,” he uttered aloud before walking away.
This was one of those moments where I shrugged and followed Brock. He looked back when he saw me and just shook his head in disappointment. As if I was the reason we were stuck down here. God. If there was a killer and it wasn’t Lisa, I hope they got rid of this jerk next. It was a crude thought for a crude man, I thought to myself as I watched him run over and tap Sarah on the shoulder. When she looked back, he pretended like it wasn’t him. I guess teasing her was his way of trying to cheer her up. He also reminded her to vote for Lisa, so we could all go home for the umpteenth time.
She wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded innocently. I walked over to make sure everything was okay. When Brock saw this, he threw his hands up and told me, “Chill bro, I wasn’t doing anything.”
“Yeah. Sure you weren’t,” I scoffed.
“I know she’s like a sister to you. But you’re not the only one who can talk to her, you know.”
“I never said I was.”
He tapped her on the shoulder again and said, “Hey, sorry about Roger back there. Accusing you of murder. To be honest, I’m starting to think he’s the killer.”
“Thanks,” she muttered.
“Tell you what, I’ll make you guys breakfast.”
“Wow? Where’s the real Brock?” I asked.
“Whatever. You’re not the only one who used to work in the food industry. My first job, well, more like my first and a half job was at IHOP.”
“What’s a first and a half job?” Sarah asked.
“It’s a long story,” he said while making his way over to the fridge. “Any requests?”
“Nope,” we both said.
“Great, I’ll see if we have the ingredients for a few omelets.”
“What about Roger?” I asked.
My question almost ruined his jovial mood. He turned around and gave me an ugly scowl. “Roger can F off.”
“That’s mean,” Sarah said.
“He’s a vampire. He doesn’t need to eat.”
“I think he does actually,” I said.
“No, he doesn’t. That’s stupid.”
“Dude,” I uttered in frustration.
“What? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“They’ve both been eating this whole time. Markus was in the kitchen, helping Lisa and Sarah when he died.”

Have a blast!
The Adventure Games
By Ringo Cross
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Chapter 1: Insight
I stepped into my apartment, placed my back to the door and sighed in relief. Thank God I was home. I hadn’t been for the past few days. I was at the hospital watching over my sister with our parents. Just when we were starting to get our hopes up. Just when we thought she was going to make a full recovery, she took a turn for the worse.
It all felt more like a curse than an affliction. My sister went from a healthy, happy-go-lucky teenager, to a fever-stricken soul, stranded somewhere between the land of the living and nonliving. She had a sudden case of sleeping beauty syndrome. The doctors didn’t know for sure, but they suspected the strange bite on her neck was the culprit. Two neat puncture wounds rationalized away as an animal bite. We all knew what it really was, it’s just that no one wanted to be the one who was crazy enough to say it.
It was like her body was slowly wasting away. Was she becoming undone, or perhaps something else altogether? Eh... Who knows. I did know one thing for sure, it was all too grim and preposterous a reality for my parents to accept. No matter what the doctors tried or how hard mom and dad prayed for her deliverance, she just kept getting worse while acting stranger.
It was like she had been pulled from the world, and we had all been pulled right along with her, into a strange new world that made no sense. Her doctors told us that at the rate she was deteriorating, she didn’t have much time left. God. I wish this was the part where I told you, “I became a superhero and saved her life.” Maybe in my own roundabout way, I did become something of her savior.
The truth is, what happened to her, I... I never saw it coming. Did vampires really exist? I couldn’t tell you how much or how long this question had tortured my mind. I was going to do some serious digging and get to the bottom of this. Because if there was any way to save her; to stop her from fading, I swore to find it.
My phone began to ring. It was my parents. They were at the hospital, keeping vigil at her bedside. I shook my head while thinking about how much of a toll her sudden illness had taken upon them. They were both so virtues and upright. Their faith in God had really been shaken. I turned my phone on silent mode. I-I didn’t want to talk to them. I needed time to grieve on my own.
I wanted a beer. No, I needed a beer. Something cold and inebriating to free my mind from the pain of watching my little sister slip away. I’m surprised I made it this long without dipping into my reserves, I thought to myself as I reached into the fridge and grabbed a cold one.
I just sat there at my kitchen table. Reliving as many memories of us together as I could. There were so many. I... I adored her more than life itself. She could do no wrong. Her smile... it... it haunts me. My God, I never knew pain like this. I had never followed my parents down the “righteous path.” I always considered myself a person of logic and reason. Simply believing in a higher power wasn’t enough for me, neither had it ever been enough to ease the void of loneliness within me.
But after this, how could I not believe in God? How could I explain away my grief? All I wanted was for this to all make sense. Maybe it was her time? Even if it was, why like this? Why so tragic and bitter? There were just too many reasons why I stopped believing. Crazy thing was, right now, I desperately wanted to believe. I wanted to close my eyes, clasp my hands together, and pray for a miracle. I tried but couldn’t bring myself to do so, no matter how strong the desire. There was no God, and a crisis wasn’t my chance to retreat.
I had seen the dark side of faith. The way my parents justified what happen to my baby sister by saying, “God has a plan” made me sick to my core. Just thinking about it made me nauseous. My faith had been stretched to the breaking point a long time ago. This was just the sad culmination of a collision between faith and obstinacy. The explosion went off like a bomb in my head. The pain was truly limitless... I just hoped her death didn’t turn me into a serial killer. I smirked at my own inane, insane thought before downing my beer.
I grabbed another beer to drown my sorrows in. Just then, there was a sudden knock at the door. The slight but unmistakable tapping surprised the crap out of me. So much so, I almost spilled my beer. I figured it was my ex. She had planned on stopping by a bit later to return my key and to pick up the last of her things.
When I looked through the peephole, I saw two people standing there in black suits. The sight threw me off and made me briefly sick to my stomach. Little did I know, I should have followed my gut instinct, but instead, I foolishly opened the door.
“Hello, Mr. Graham. My name’s Agent Adams. This is my partner, Agent Harris.”
Before I could process what was happening, Agent Harris extended her hand and said, “Pleasure.”
“Um... You too, I think? I guess? Hope I’m not in any trouble?” I told her.
“You’re not,” she smirked.
“Who are you guys again?”
“We work for the government,” she said.
“The FBI?” I asked.
“Ugh. Everyone says that. I guess it is the suits,” Agent Adams grumbled. He shook his head in annoyance before adding, “We work for the Department of Homeland Security. DPI for short. It’s the paranormal division.”
“Who again?” I asked him.
“Eh. The Department of Paranormal Investigations,” he clarified with something of an attitude.
“Huh. Never heard of it,” I spoke.
“Can we come in, Mr. Graham?” he asked.
I thought about it for a moment. I didn’t like this Agent Adams guy. He gave off a bad vibe. My first mind was to tell them to kick rocks, but I decided against being so brash and rash just in case they had a warrant. I wasn’t thinking straight. My sister’s woes weighed too mightily on my spirit. Before letting them pass, I did ask to see some identification. I’m not that stupid. Had to be sure they weren’t pulling my leg.
Agent Adams flashed his badge with a slight grumble. Agent Harris had no problem letting me see hers. She was at least pleasant, I thought while examining her government ID. I also wondered why someone so young and attractive had been stuck with someone so old and unattractive. I bet she hated her partner, I thought to myself with a smirk, as I let them pass through the door.
Agent Adams took a seat at my kitchen table without me offering. His partner looked at him a bit perplexed before waiting until I said, “It’s ok. You can have a seat.”
“Thank you,” she replied.
“So, what brings two DPI agents to my home? You sure I haven’t done anything illegal?”
“Hmm... Maybe there is something you’d like to confess, Mr. Graham,” Agent Adams spoke.
“I don’t know. Maybe I have an old parking ticket or something minor like that.”
“We don’t handle citations,” he replied.
“Sorry. Dumb question.”
“Apology rejected,” he uttered.
“Uh-hm. Forgive my partner he can be a bit—"
Agent Adams brought his hand to his chin. His abrupt gesture caused his partner to pause mid-sentence and look over at him. The two exchanged glances. He paused for a moment more before saying, “That’s a nice brand of beer. I haven’t had a cold one in a while.”
“Would you like one? I have plenty.”
“Sure.”
“Really?” I asked.
“You offered. I accepted.”
“Uh, what about you, Miss Harris?”
“It’s Agent Harris. And no.” She looked over at her partner with a raised eyebrow, “Can you not drink on the job? It’s unprofessional.”
“Fine,” he grumbled before reaching into the inner pocket of his suit coat to retrieve his vape pen.
“Are you sure? Like I said I have plenty.”
“I’m sure. I am the senior agent after all. Probably should set a better example and all,” with a wink he added, “If you survive, I’ll come back and take you up on that offer, Mr. Graham.”
“How do you know he’ll even want to participate?” his partner asked. I could hear the annoyance in her tone. She groaned before telling me, “Sorry about that.”
Agent Adams let out a heavy cloud of steam. He studied me a fair bit longer than I was comfort with. Especially someone like him, whose eyes were grey enough to sting. He took another hit from his vape pen. This time blowing the steam in my direction. His wrinkled face blocked out by the heavy cloud as he said, “Oh, he’ll join, alright. He’s not in any position to refuse.”
“That’s pretentious,” she grumbled.
“Hah. It’s the truth.”
“What the hell is this about?”
“Your sister, Mr. Graham,” he said.
“What about her?” I asked.
“We know what happened.”
“Um. Okay? Creepy.”
“Uh, what my partner is trying to say is that we might be able to help. I reviewed her chart. I think I know what the problem is,” Agent Harris explained.
“What can a couple of government agents do that a team of doctors haven’t already tried?” I asked.
“Your sister. She was bitten by a vampire, Mr. Graham,” Agent Adams stated. He paused for a moment to study my reaction before adding, “You seem like a clever guy. I’m sure you already suspected as much.”
“So, they do exist,” I mumbled to myself.
“Yes. The vampire who attacked your sister was probably desperate. He broke what are a set of well-established rules called Blood Codes.”
“Really? Vampires have rules?”
“There’s always rules, Mr. Graham.”
“Whatever. And where is this freak? I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on him.”
“He’s already been dealt with.”
“By you guys?”
“By his overseer.”
“Good. I hope his death was slow and painful.”
“It was. Their methods are very draconian.”
“Then what do you need from me?” I asked.
“What about you? Would you kill to save your sister?”
“I would if I had to,” I affirmed without hesitation or reservation. I suppose I only spoke so confidently and assuredly because I thought it was a hypothetical. I mean this was the government after all. They would never ask me to do anything crazy, right? But then again, I would’ve told you you were crazy if you would have told me vampires were a real thing before my sister was attacked by one. Still, his question was odd. And the more I thought about it, the more it disturbed me.
Agent Harris chimed in, “Um, Mr. Graham, I’m sorry. I don’t know why my partner said that. You shouldn’t have to kill anyone. For you, it’s probably more a matter of participation than annihilation. If we did require you to do such a thing, rest assure, we’d provide you with all the materials necessary to succeed. Before you ask, we’re on your side, Mr. Graham. We want you to see your sister once the games have concluded.”
“The games?” I asked.
“Yes. If you enter our game, we’ll save your sister’s life. No questions asked,” she replied.
“What kind of game?”
“The Adventure Games.”
“The what games?”
“Adventure Games,” she smirked.
“What’s the catch?”
“Well, the games could be dang—”
Agent Adams quickly butted in before Agent Harris could reveal the truth. “There’s no catch, Mr. Graham. None whatsoever. Don’t listen to my partner. She can be a bit too detail orientated.”
“The devil is always in the details,” I muttered.
“But not a cure for your sister,” he coldly replied.
“Hey. What is that supposed to mean?”
“What do you think? Do you want to waste time going over the fine print, or do you want to step up to the plate and save your sister?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Eh. How do I know I can trust you to keep your word? I mean the government isn’t exactly super trustworthy.”
“Know what, I like you, Mr. Graham. Tell you what I’ll do. Humph. If you agree, we’ll transfer your sister to our facility, right away. That way she can get a jumpstart on her treatment program before you even set foot in the games,” he checked his wristwatch and added, “We can get her there by midnight. Let’s see... hmm... typical turnaround for blood sickness is what? Maybe a few hours if we play our cards right?”
“Six to eighteen hours is more accurate,” Agent Harris clarified to her partner’s chagrin.
“Close enough,” he grumbled.
Agent Harris ignored him. Turning her attention back to me, she said, “I have some good news and some bad news. Which would you like first?”
“Give me the good news.”
“Ok. Based on her chart, it looks like her affliction has progressed beyond normal blood sickness. Once we administer the antidote, she should be fine, but there’s always a chance she won’t make it. I’m sure our techs back at the lab will make the process as painless as possible for your sister. This is what I can do for you if you decide to join the project. I promise we’ll have her call you before you leave for the games.”
“Great. Where do I sign?” I asked.
Agent Adams put away his vape pen. “You don’t sign. You signing something doesn’t matter. We’re dealing with information above top secret, Mr. Graham.”
“Whatever,” I shrugged.
“There is one other thing,” Agent Harris said.
“The bad news, right?”
“Right,” she nodded.
Agent Harris looked over at her partner. She was careful not to reveal anything more until he nodded his head in approval. Some of the info they had already revealed was pushing the line above top secret into ‘black protocol’ territory, or what agents at DPI called “above top secret classification.”
Agent Adams nodded before quickly returning his attention back to vaping, retrieving the addictive device almost faster than he had put it away.
Agent Harris cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, Mr. Graham. Your sister’s illness has progressed too far. We can save her, but she won’t be human anymore. She’ll be a vampire. The transformation is irreversible I’m afraid.”
“Really? A vampire?”
“That is correct.”
“Jesus. I need a smoke,” I said as I jumped from my chair and grabbed the pack of smokes sitting on my kitchen counter. I lit one up and began pacing back and forth like a madman. With a bit of reluctance, I turned to Agent Harris and grumbled, “How fast can we get this done?”
“Now, if you agree.”
“That fast, huh?”
“Yes. We already have a team standing by. One phone call from us and they’ll began the extraction.”
“I already told you, I’m in.”
When I reaffirmed my commitment, Agent Adams looked over at his partner with a smug “I told you so” expression. He stood and extended his hand for me to shake. “Good choice, Mr. Graham. You’re a real champ.”
I shook his hand while glaring into his eyes. “You guys better not be trying to pull a fast one.”
“We wouldn’t. You’re not that important,” he smirked before blowing a cloud of steam into my face. “Goodbye, Mr. Graham. I’m sure I won’t be seeing you around,” he sarcastically added before heading for the door.
I shook Agent Harris’ hand. She removed her shades and told me, “Good luck, Mr. Graham.”
“What do I do next?”
“Pack light and wait.”
“Really? That’s it?”
“Yeah. We’ll be back in a couple of hours to take you to prescreening.”
“Sounds fair.”
“Good to hear.”
“So, what are these ‘Adventure Games’ anyway?”
She placed her shades back on. Her expression distant and cold. “Sit tight. We have to make a few arrangements and finish up some paperwork on our end before I can reveal any information. I’m sure the paperwork will get approved by the time we come back for you. Once this happens, I’ll explain everything you need to know.”
I just stood there dumbfounded by the moment. I could hear Agent Harris discussing Agent Adams’ conduct as they let themselves out and began making their way down the hall. Apparently, Agent Harris was disappointed that he had asked me for a beer. She pointed out that this was an obvious workplace violation, and how he could be terminated for his conduct. He found her chiding amusing and told her he had no intentions on drinking on the job. When he made this claim, she was incredulous and asked what possessed him to even ask in the first place.
I could barely hear them at this point since they were standing by the elevator. But I believe his response was something on the lines of, “I wanted to read his reaction. If he handled himself wisely, I knew we wouldn’t have a problem recruiting him for the games.”
“And if he reacted poorly?” she asked.
“Well then, your little behavioral profile would have been wrong, and we would’ve had a head start on finding his replacement,” he told her.
I closed the door in disgust. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, or if they could even be trusted. I knew it too. That cliché feeling had reached all the way down to my gut. My conscience... the good angel on my shoulder was telling me to run.
With a heavy heart, I chose to ignore the voice. My sister’s life hung in the balance. Sometimes in life you had to take risks. My choice to go along with these agents and their dubious claims wasn’t a tough or noble act. It was one wrought from desperation. What were my options? Not joining meant my sister would waste away until it was too late. Phew. This was a lot of pressure. My back was against the wall literally and figuratively.
I let out a long sigh and mustered the courage to begin packing. I hadn’t gotten much sleep either. Hopefully the car ride to wherever we were going would be a long one, and I could get some much-needed rest, I thought to myself as I shoved way too many things into my bag.
Tears escaped from my eyes. I had to stay the course. I had to hear her voice. I finally broke down and prayed to God, asking him to look over me. I still didn’t believe. I don’t know why I did it. I guess out of hope or necessity. My sister meant the world to me, and my parents, I don’t know what they would do if she perished.
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Chapter 2: Foresight
The following day was a blur. I was taken to a massive facility that stood in the middle of nowhere. It was on the outskirts of the outskirts. The place was so far removed, they didn’t even bother with a blindfold. There was no elaborate story of denial, or even the whole “we cannot confirm or deny” troupe.
Nope. This was a secret facility where the government housed and did God knows who or what to who or what. From what I gathered, they performed strange experiments on poor sods, such as myself, who had foolishly signed their lives away. I gulped and told myself to shut up. If you think negative things, then you get negative results.
A group of oddly dressed soldiers called “acolytes” escorted me from the transport van to the staging area. I was able to check in with my sister, just like the agents promised. She was doing much better. The thought put a smile on my face and was all the motivation I needed. Now all I needed to do was win, so I could see her again.
Knock on wood, but if something were to happen to me, I didn’t really care. All that mattered was that little sis had finally turned the corner. I swear on my soul. This was more than I could have ever hoped for.
After answering an uncomfortable amount of questions and going through a battery of physical and mental tests, I was given the greenlight by the staff to join the event. This all happened at approximately 1400 hours the next day. I was taken away from the annoying, prodding techs in lab coats. I wouldn’t have mind leaving them behind, along with their invasive procedures if it wasn’t for the soldiers who escorted me to the staging area. They were cold and mechanical. They roughly shooed me to a section of the facility called Bunker 17, as if they were putting a dog back inside its kennel. We arrived at this damnable place, via elevator, twenty floors down.
To my surprise, there were already several people waiting when I arrived. They were all kind of just lingering about not doing much of anything. In front of us stood a pair of massive concrete doors that looked like the entrance to a mini fortress. We were all wearing these odd name tags. The moment made me sick to my stomach. The gazes of suspicion, intrigue, and indifference made me briefly curl up like a shrinking violet.
Hmm... No one told me I would be joined by others. I shrugged and figured as much. I was about to introduce myself when one of the soldiers radioed Command and informed them that we were ready to enter. Command radioed back and told them to give the signal. One of the acolyte soldiers gave a thumbs up, which I imagine they saw on the camera, right above the door.
When he did this an alarm sounded, red strobes flashed all arounds us, and the doors began to slowly creep open. The noise only added to the confusion and bewilderment. I took a step back, sure that the roof was going to collapse with every inch the doors gained. The whole thing was about as unnerving and uninviting as it could get. It looked more like a giant mouth slowly feasting upon the light, warning us to turn back, than an entrance.
We stepped inside only to be greeted by another set of massive doors. These were steel instead of concrete and looked like they could have been placed on the entrance to an impenetrable castle way up in the mountains. I looked back when the concrete doors begin to close. Only when they had fully shut, and we were devoured by the darkness, did the steel doors begin to open their mouth. The inner doors creaked and cranked, making the loudest, most-angriest sound imaginable. The process was excruciating and played on my mind almost as much as it played on my ears.
There was a great deal of radio chatter. The soldiers thrust us through the entrance. When we had all crossed the red line, one of them radioed Command, and the doors began to slowly close behind us. Fight or flight kicked in. I thought about making a run for it, but I could tell that that was bad idea by the way the soldiers were positioned behind the door with their weapons drawn.
I swear I could feel their laser sights more than I could see them in the piercing darkness. There was nothing like a big gun to chop through any language or mental barrier. It was louder and harder than any bull in any China shop would ever be.
I sighed when the doors finally closed behind us. My first thought was, what the hell had I gotten myself into? Followed quickly by, I can’t believe I let myself be talked into this. Before any of us could gather our bearings, the lights began to turn on. Once my eyes had adjusted to the blinding whiteness, I stood around like everyone else, amazed and surprised by the sight in front of me. It was funny in a sense. I was relieved by familiarity as it was the last thing on my mind.
It looked like a well-kept emergency shelter. The floors sparkled as if they had been waxed in preparation for our arrival. The kitchen and dayroom took up the bulk of the space. Before I could really sink my teeth into some good ole fashioned exploration, a voice could be heard over the loudspeaker. The prerecording was that of a woman, who sounded a bit robotic and automated, as if it had been altered to sound as friendly as possible. Which made it even more odd and creepy:
“Greetings, contestants! Welcome to the Adventure Games! These are the inaugural games, making this the very first event of its kind! So, consider yourselves lucky! The games have been lowered in difficulty by our wonderful technicians by approximately fifteen percent in honor of you being the very first souls to be taken.
I’m sure you’re all confused and have a lot of questions. Should I explain? Of course, I should explain! Well, here goes nothing! There are seven of you in total. You have all been locked inside of one of our many, many, many underground shelters! Bunker 17 to be precise. Which is part of the Northeastern Hemisphere Underground Network Systems, or N-HUN for short. That’s right! Your bunker is part of a much wider, global network that is maintained and operated by the New World Government Order or NWGO and members of the New Faith Alliance or NFA.
There are six levels of access in total. To gain access to the lower levels you need a “Marc” card. Which is short for Mark of Identifying numbers. Sorry average humans, only vampires and human personnel critical to the mission are given one. Don’t feel too bad, only high-ranking members of the NFA have access to the lower levels. And only super important people have access to the final level. Take my word for it, I’ve been down to level six and it’s definitely not a place you ever want to be.
I would tell you all about the many wonders, crazy contraptions, odd attractions, and foul creatures we keep below, but then I’d have to release the laughing gas... Just kidding... It’s actually sarin gas!
You have all been locked inside of Bunker 17. We stocked the place with plenty of provisions, so you won’t have to worry about starving to death for a very long time if anything terrible was to happen while you were away like, I don’t know, nuclear holocaust.
The recreational room is also state of the art. All the amenities you need are here. We made sure to provide our contestants with everything imaginable so all you’ll have to worry about is staying alive!
If you were to survive the games, which I highly doubt, then we will do as promised and grant you your wish, via taxpayer expense. There’s nothing the Illuminati loves more than wasting hard stolen taxpayer money on frivolous expenditures like elaborate “stress tests” on bunker sociology to see who’ll break.
All of you came here for a reason. One of you however asked to be here so you could murder everyone else who came here for a reason! Hooray for having zero conscience, our super mysterious serial killer contestant! How do you stop this maniac from murdering you? Why the answer is simple. Figure out which one of you is the murdering maniac and you win! That’s right, the game is officially over, and you can go home and enjoy whatever foolish thing you wished for. Hope it was worth it!
How might you rid yourselves of this psychopath, you ask? Please direct your attention to our voting room. Inside is a small stall, no bigger than an outhouse. At the end of each day, you will go inside, one by one, and vote on who you think the killer is. If the majority votes correctly then the game is over. If there is a tie or lower, then the games continue. Oh, and just to make things fair, the killer will always vote for themselves. This will continue until enough of you vote correctly or everyone besides the killer is D.E.A.D.
♫ Do-do-do dodo! ♫
Congratz subject number 4, Roger J. Pierson III. You have been assigned the master bedroom! Which means you are responsible for reading the daily tasks! What daily tasks you might wonder? Why they’re clues to help you solve the killer-mystery, so pay close attention!
How does it work? Each day Roger will receive a card from HQ, using our spiffy pneumatic system, with direct access to the master bedroom. Our technicians, who helped created this wonderful kill box, call these messages ‘Vital Tasks’. Gather in one place and read them carefully, but only if you’re interested in surviving.
Good luck everyone! Oh, and be sure to have fun while playing. There is a small suggestion box located in the recreational room, next to the TV. All suggestions are anonymous and will help us to not only create a better experience, but even more enjoyable deaths! Salutations! Enjoy your stay at our super-secret underground facility! Thank you for your participation in the Adventure Games! And remember, no matter what happens, you are a valued guest at Bunker 17!”
When the strange announcement ended, everyone just kind of looked around in confusion. It was one of those moments when you question reality. There were seven of us in total. Everyone was wearing a name tag. Each name was more of a twisted moniker than our actual name. I looked down at my own and saw the word “Hero.” I found this odd for a few reasons. The first being I wasn’t a hero. I was your average guy at best. The second, more chilling reason was I did not remember putting this stupid thing on. How it got there was a mystery. I suppose in the thick of the chaos, one of the lab technicians must’ve slapped it on before they rushed me out.
The guy next to me, whose name tag read “Follower,” began to spaz. I tried to calm him, but it didn’t work. He made a break for it, running all the way back to the entrance. “Let me out! I didn’t sign up for this!” he cried and screamed while pounding on the steel slab.
There was a tall, bulky guy, wearing a tank top that barely fit. His name tag read “Bully” and was glued to his chest. He flexed his peck muscles and laughed very loudly and rudely at the young guy. He looked over at me and then everyone else while wildly yelling, “Come on guys! They’re obviously trying to scare us. The lady over the intercom wasn’t even trying to hide how obvious it was with all those corny jokes. What is this supposed to be? Fallout: New Vegas?!” He hooted and chuckled.
“This is stupid,” the woman next to me said. I looked over and saw that her name tag read: “Narcissist.”
“Screw it,” the Follower said after seeing that he was making a fool out of himself by crying and wailing not only in vain but to the amusement of others.
“I want to go home,” a girl sniveled. I glanced over and saw that her name tag read, “Teenager.”
Bully’s laughter pulled me away from the shock of seeing a teenager in a place like this. I cringed when he hollered out “Guys! It’s not real!” as if he wasn’t making yet another useless PSA.
There was this guy leaning against the wall. He watched with folded arms as the Follower finally gave up the goose. I could have sworn he was just standing right next to me, but I could be wrong. His name tag read “the Rationalizer.” He looked over at us and asked, in a very matter-of-fact tone, “So. What do we do now?”
“Let’s go get the message like the lady said over the intercom,” I told everyone with a shrug.
“Good idea,” the Rationalizer said. I think he was being sarcastic when he said it, but who knows. A guy like that was difficult to read.
The seven of us traveled through the kitchen and recreational area. Then we made our way down the narrow hall, towards our rooms. There were two names assigned to each one, except for the master bedroom. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw that the Rationalizer was assigned to the same room as me. Seeing my discomfort, he gave me a pat on the back before opening the door to our room.
I peeked inside and saw a very clean but very bare bones living space. There were a few accommodations, just nothing like home. Let’s see, there was a bunkbed on one side, two lockers, and a large dresser on the other. The floor was just as cold, polished, and uninviting as the kitchen and hall. Turns out, the only thing they bothered to make warm and cozy was the recreational room. Oh, and the master bedroom, hate to forget that.
I poked my head in Roger’s room. If I hadn’t mentioned it by now, his name tag read: “the Lover.” He damn near kissed the floor when he saw how magnificent his stay would be. His reaction rubbed pretty much all of us the wrong way. The Narcissist’s in particular. When she saw her room, and realized she had to share with the Teenager, she hyperventilated. Unlike the Lover’s eccentrics, her selfishly induced panic attack put a smile on my face.
“Huh. Looks like they got at least one of our name tags spot-on,” the Rationalizer said while observing her antics and thinking the same thing I was thinking.
Bully nearly buckled over he laughed so hard. Seeing this and that he shared a room with this meathead, the Follower began laughing right along with him. I don’t even think he knew why he was laughing. He saw Bully doing it and just followed along. I shook my head. I did chuckle a bit under my breath. The whole thing was ridiculous, I thought to myself as I turned my attention back to the Lover. There was something about him that was different. I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was.
Was there a faster way to draw suspicion than being called out by name and given something. Not only was it something, but it happened to be the one spacious, well decorated, most comfortable room out of the whole lot. Silk pillows, satin sheets, and a handwoven quilt that was draped over the bottom of a lavish, four-post bed. The posts were shaped into gargoyles. Even his dresser was handcrafted, the wallpaper elegant, and the red carpet fit for royalty. I could go on and on, but I didn’t want my intrigue to turn into outrage. Not yet at least. This all could be a prank like Bully suggested.
Eh. I know I keep harping on the subject, but it was hella unfair. What could I do? Even if I wanted to take it there, what were my options? Try to take the room from him by force? Yeah. That’s smart. That way everyone would think I was the killer for sure.
I had never even thought about killing someone in my whole life. Ok... you got me. The vampire who nearly killed my sister was the only creature. Hearing Agent Adams tell me he had been cruelly dispatched by his masters was sweet music to my ears. My only regret was that I wasn’t there to witness him suffer. If I was, I would have begged the monster behind the mask to prolong his pain for as long as vampirically possible.
“Hey, pal! Hurry up! I’m starving,” Bully shouted, snapping my mind out of its downward spiral of dark, borderline psychotic thought.
“I’m grabbing the card now!” the Lover shouted back before seizing the plastic capsule that was ejected from a long, pneumatic tube system. He removed the card from the red envelope and read what it said:
“Task 1. Introduce yourself to the others. State all critical information such as name, age, and reason you’re here. This is very important: reveal if you are human or not. Do not lie unless you are the killer. You may remove your name tag afterwards.”
After he read the card, we all glanced around at one another, wondering if this was indeed someone’s idea of a sick joke. Or perhaps this was a dream we would all wake up from very soon? I prayed for the ladder but feared and respected the former. My thoughts loud and sweeping amidst the awkward silence that had overtaken us.
Bully rubbed his stomach. “I’m hungry. You guys can keep standing around looking stupid if you want. I’m off to see what’s in the fridge.”
“Um. Gross,” the Narcissist stated before she checked the pockets of her stylish plaid topcoat. She gasped in exasperation before yelping in dismay, “OMG. But how? How did they even know?”
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“They must’ve taken it!” she cried.
“Taken what?” I asked.
She looked over at me with an expression that told me everything I needed to know. Then she groaned out the most unimaginative words imaginable, “God. I thought I smuggled my backup phone. I put it in my pocket, it should be here. Screw it. Guess I’ll just die of boredom.”
“Or you could reconnect with your other senses,” the Rationalizer said. He folded his arms and stared at the Narcissist hungrily. If she wasn’t so preoccupied with being preoccupied by nothing, she would have noticed his lecherous gawk.
“Whatever. I hate my life,” she sighed.
“What’s a ‘backup’ phone?” I asked.
“Old people, dude,” the Follower blurted before chuckling to himself at my expense.
“I’m not old. I just never heard of a backup phone,” I explained, my tone a bit defensive.
“My bad, bro. Don’t get mad.”
“I’m not getting mad.”
“Hey. Whatever you say, bro.”
“It’s your other phone just in case your non other phone dies. Tch. Duh. I have followers, you know,” she replied all hot and haughtily.
“Come on guys,” I said before making my way towards the kitchen. Bully was already there, rummaging through the cupboards like a man on a mission.
When he saw us, he looked back and said, “I’m starving, haven’t eaten since breakfast!”
“How are we looking? Plenty of good stuff?” I asked as I made my approach.
“Bingo!” he hooted and rooted, ignoring me like a butthole over a loaf of bread. He made some weird comment about how he couldn’t believe they had sprouted grain bread. And how sprouted grain bread was savage. And how sprouted grain bread aided in muscle recovery. And how sprouted grain bread blah blah blah; all bodybuilding nonsense no one else understood. I understood how rude he was, however. He practically commandeered the counter and began making himself half a dozen sandwiches with the ham that he had snagged from the fridge.
“How are we looking?” I asked again.
“Dude, we’re freaking loaded!”
I opened the large pantry and saw four shelves filled with cans. “Wow. Yeah, you’re right.”
The one guy, who had the master bedroom, the Lover, I believe his name tag was; he cleared his throat and said, “Ok. So, who’s going to go first?”
“First in what?” the Follower asked.
“Introducing themselves,” he hissed.
“Tch. I’m not wasting my time,” the Follower laughed. To be honest, he seemed like a nice kid, but his laugh was maddening. This high pitch chortle followed by a guttural snort or two. Ugh. Just thinking about it made my skin crawl.
“I think you should go first,” I told Bully.
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” he asked.
“Because you’re a big oaf.”
Everyone at the table laughed, including the Follower. He stood from his seat, still snorting, and said, “Dude! You have a mountain of sandwiches! You could have at least asked if anyone else wanted one.”
Bully laughed before and after taking a chunk out of his first sandwich. “Whatever. I worked hard to get these muscles. Judging by your appearance, I don’t think you’ve ever seen an honest day’s work at the gym.”
“Ouch,” the Follower nervously chuckled. He slinked back down in his seat and tried to hide as we all laughed at the poor guy’s expense.
Bully looked over at me as if he saw something he didn’t like. Before I could ask if he had a staring problem, he said, “What about you? You seem pretty straightlaced. Maybe you should go first.”
I looked around and saw everyone’s eyes fall on me after he had pretty much thrown me under the bus. I threw my hands up in defeat and told them, “Fine. It’s not like I have anything to hide; I’ll go first.”
The Lover gestured for me to take the metaphorical stage and said, “The floor is yours.”

I think the only reason I got the job was because both my company and Barter and Shake (ownership) were cast for a Discovery Channel show which aired shortly after we opened. To that date I had never designed or built a themed or immersive space. My practice was mostly custom modern homes and shipping container multifamily projects. Barter and Shake already had a fantastic name for the bar. It was a play on words as the bar was to be located in the basement of Sip Coffee and Beer which was housed in a former car shop and "tow" company building. The owner wanted a speakeasy style tiki bar with an emphasis on nautical decor because of the name they had chosen. I wanted to blow them away so I suggested that instead of putting decor up on flat walls that we actually recreate the cargo hold of a ship! They were honestly apprehensive to approved it but after creating renderings they approved it! I'm truly lucky that most of my work now is themed/immersive experiences, bars and restaurants. I'm hoping to do projects that we can operate ourselves. We're currently building a small escape room experience in the strip mall next to UnderTow Arcadia. Operating this will be a big first for us and I hope it's just the beginning of something much bigger! Attached are some photos of the OG UnderTow taken during construction and from the friends and family soft opening.