MEETING NUMBER 50

‎Melissa's POV

‎

‎A laugh escaped me, one I could no longer suppress.

‎Whoever was behind this prank did a good job. I almost found myself believing.

‎“Demon games,” What stupid name is that? Couldn’t they have come up with something more intriguing?

‎“Very funny. Now get serious. Where are the cameras?"

‎Slowly I rose to my feet, dusted myself off, and began scanning the perimeters for clues.

‎The voice stayed silent for a while.

‎Then it spoke again, this time it was hoarse, deep, and way more creepy.

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, miss,” She declared, her voice stern.

‎“You are to return to camp at once, so the games can commence."

‎As soon as the last word fell, the spark of light disappeared.

‎The extinguishing of the flame felt like  shattering glass to my already fragile heart.

‎“Wait! come back! Don't leave!" I panicked, my heart racing as I glanced back and forth aimlessly.

‎“Tell me what you meant by return to camp?"

I screamed again and again, but nothing answered.

‎The spark didn't rekindle, nor her chilling voice return.

‎

‎Eventually, my throat got dry and I gave up on my pointless shouting.

‎One thing was obvious though.

‎I was in some kind of simulation

‎‘Was this some kind of a government research facility?’ I wondered to myself.

‎Gingerly, I made my way through the alleyway.

‎My boots slapped against the pavement as I walked.

‎I strided quietly, straight into the nearest street.

‎Once there, I spotted a busted steel street light flickering faintly in a corner.

‎Underneath it, a rusty old park bench.

‎The bench was moldy, covered with litter.

On the base of the bench rested a reddish brown pigment, which appeared to be blood...

‎The building all around it were deserted — filled with cobwebs.

‎The doors— wide open like the residents had been forced to evacuate their houses in a hurry.

‎The pavement was cracked, shattered as though it was under reconstruction.

‎I could spot cars packed at every angle, although it was pitch black, so I couldn't pinpoint exactly what might have been happening.

‎As at that moment, my senses were yelling, pleading for me to move back.... But how could I? The alley was dark and lonely.

‎At least here, I might actually see someone who was willing to clear up my confusion.

‎I let out a deep breath, clenched onto my throbbing chest and stepped forward.

‎

‎Every step came with a icy chill.

‎The creepy cracking sound of rusty doors echoing from every angle.

‎Then came the wolf howls, and the chattering sound of owls.

‎I swallowed hard, my heart threatening to leap out of my chest.

‎This place was scary, even for a horror writer like myself.

‎I mean, I was certain it was some kind of a prank, but still my limbs trembled like spaghetti.

‎“Hello..." I called out, my voice trembling. “Is anyone there?"

‎My eyes twitching aimlessly as I approached the bench.

‎Just then a shadow flew past the corner of my eyes, stopping in the darkness.

‎Jolted around, I gagged down saliva searching every inch, but all I saw was darkness.

‎At this moment, I wasn't sure if I was seeing things, or just hallucinating.

‎Letting out a small sigh of relief, I turned to continue when I saw it.

‎Two large crimson red eyes staring at me.

‎For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

‎I stepped back, my ankle threatening to give out but I held myself upright.

‎

‎I tried diverting my eyes, but just like a magnet I found myself unable to resist.

‎My eyes were stuck on those red balls of terror.

‎Next thing I saw was the surfacing of large white fangs curving upward into a smile just beneath the eyes.

‎My eyes doubled in size.

‎A cold sweat broke out instantly, and as if sensing my fear, more crimson eyes surfaced, alongside even brighter, sharper canines.

‎Their appearance was instantaneous, lasting only about a second, but left a shadow of fear trailing behind.

‎I opened my mouth, about to scream some of the terror away.

‎However, before my words could fall– I got yanked backwards by a pair of strong arms.

‎My blood went cold.

‎The strength behind the pull suggested it be a man.

‎His hands were long and veiny.

‎One rested on my waist, and the other– squeezing against my lips.

‎The man appeared to be large, as his intimidating shadow towered over me like a hawk.

‎

‎He pulled me back into the alley, his hard chest firm against my back.

‎At this moment, goosebumps began surfacing.

‎He was obviously bad news, a danger to my life– and I was going to be done for if I let his plan work.

‎Swiftly, I grabbed the man's hand on my lips, biting it viciously.

‎“What the fuck," He growled, his tone low and confused as he released me.

‎I snarled, wiping off a few loose droplets blood from the corner of my lips, before turning to see the face of my captor.

‎I turned pissed, expecting to come face to face with an ugly creep, but to my surprise I came in contact with a creature pretty beyond words.

‎I was immediately confronted with a 6 feet plus stranger, a man with long, silver hair, piercing red eyes.

‎He had a high nose bridge, and a small pointed nose.

‎On his left brow rested a small scar that separated his thick brow into identical halves.

‎He was wearing a black face mask, engraved with a painting of a skull.

‎I couldn't see his lower face clearly but I could easily tell he was charming beyond words.

‎Even terrified as I was, I couldn't deny the fact that he was angelic.

‎His attire consisted of a sleeveless black garment, partially revealing his broad chest and large arms, emphasizing his ripped physique.

On his left shoulder rested the number “50”

‎

‎He glanced down at me and our eyes met.

‎His face immediately turned pale as though seeing a ghost.

‎My breath hung in my throat.

‎His eyes were mesmerizing, a true definition of  perfection.

‎His brows furrowed.

‎“Mine," He said, his voice low.

‎‘Mine’ what was that supposed to be, some type of a code.

‎At this point I had more questions than earlier.

‎My hands itched, plagued by the pressing need to see what his face actually looked like.

‎I raised my hand thoughtlessly, aiming to yank off the mask, but once my hand connected with the thin fabric... The dude snatched my hands pinning me to the wall.

‎I stared up at hands both trapped in his left hand. My mind blank.

‎His right hand still bleeding, plastered against my lips.

‎His gazed turned cold as he muttered the words.

‎“Move, and you're dead."

‎His tone deafening cold.

‎