Elite Mansion

Nikolai

“Niko……” Derek suddenly appeared, wearing his usual annoying smirk. “Didn’t think you would be joining us anytime soon.”

I barely spared him a glance, knowing his intent was to annoy the hell out of me, and I would have to knee his dick to keep his fucked-up brain away from me.

“What happened? Did that control-freak father of yours finally allow you out of sight?” Derek dropped onto the couch opposite, smirking at me like some fucked-up Santa.

“Stop it, Derek. You’re being a dickhead,” commented Jeremy, who sat beside me.

“What? I’m just stating the truth. The last time he visited the mansion was like two weeks ago, right? After his papa dearest almost had my brother locked up for almost damaging his pretty hockey-star son’s face.” His eyes twitched. “Which reminds me, shouldn’t you be apologizing?”

I tilted my head, staring at Derek like he had just sprouted another head in the middle of his stupid grin. “Apologize? For what?” My voice was flat, sharp, slicing through the air like a knife. “For the fact that your dumb brother thought it was wise to pick a fight with me?”

I lifted an eyebrow at him. “You should be grateful that my father stepped in, because I sure would have made your brother’s name look pretty on a gravestone. In the fucking memories of Derek junior.”

Derek’s face twisted, and I knew my words stabbed that black heart of his. He was barely containing himself, trying to act controlled, while I knew his head was pretty much as fucked up as mine. The difference between Derek and me is that he knows how to control himself, and I rather not suppress my joy pills.

Jeremy shifted. “Stop rage-baiting each other, because I swear I will allow you both to bathe in each other’s blood,” he deadpanned.

Derek leaned forward, eyes glinting. “Ooooh, someone’s got their claws out today. Did papa dearest finally forget how to wrap you in bubble wrap, or is it still a full-time job keeping you from shredding everyone in sight?”

I cracked my knuckles, the motion slow, deliberate. “You really wanna test me, Derek? Because I’m not just gonna bite back—I’ll tear your smug little grin right off your face and feed it to you.” My voice dropped lower, the kind that made people shift in their seats and reconsider their life choices, which Derek should be doing.

“Woah, woah, calm your psycho jets there, hotshot.” Derek held his hands up, still grinning like a complete moron. “Just a heads-up, I’m still gonna make you pay for what you did to my brother, Niko.”

“Look forward to it. Maybe this time I’ll be successful in ending your life.”

Jeremy sighed.

Leaning into the couch, Derek asked, “So what brought you here today? Gracing us with your marvelous presence?” The sarcasm in his voice unmistakable.

“The initiation is coming up, and we need to plan and pick our preys. Anyone you have personally beefing with, we will eliminate the person,” spoke Jeremy. “We need to start sending out invitations—”

“Blah blah, boring stuff. It’s always the same boring stuff every year, Jeremy. I want something new and fresh.” I clicked. “I want something more fun than putting people through a series of tests and ending up not picking anyone.”

“Yeah, Jer, I have to agree with Niko on this one. Your definition of the initiation is quite boring.” Derek crossed his legs. And if there’s one thing I like about Derek, it’s that we both get high on blood.

I leaned forward, eyes glinting, letting the shadows from the room sharpen the edges of my grin. “Look, here’s the thing.” I tapped my fingers on the couch like I was playing some sick game only I understood. “All this… selecting people, running them through tests, pretending we’re some kind of… whatever Jeremy calls it, ‘elite initiation’—it’s boring. Dead boring. And you know what’s fun?”

Derek’s smirk twitched, pupils flickering. “Oh, this should be good…”

I let the silence hang, letting it sink in. “We hunt them. Ourselves. No games, no tests, no waiting for someone else to do the dirty work. We chase them down, beat them to a pulp, and whoever survives…” I tilted my head, letting the words hang like a blade. “…wins. Or dies trying.”

Derek’s grin widened, practically vibrating with excitement. “Now you’re speaking my language.”

Jeremy, however, remained calm, arms crossed, eyes cold and measured. “Niko,” he said slowly, voice like ice, “This isn’t a joke. People will die. It’s reckless, uncontrolled… chaotic for chaos’s sake. That’s not the initiation. That’s murder.”

I leaned back, smirking, letting my energy fill the room. “Exactly. That’s the fun part. Predictable, boring, controlled stuff is for idiots. I don’t do predictable. I don’t do boring. I do… this.”

Blood, and torturing people.

Speaking of torturing, my thoughts traveled to a certain boy with glasses…

Jeremy’s gaze didn’t waver. He assessed me, weighing my madness with the precision of a scalpel. “I see what you’re thinking,” he said calmly, “but it’s too dangerous. One mistake and someone dies. The council wouldn’t forgive it, and neither would we if it’s sloppy. You want fun… fine. But it has to be controlled.”

I grinned wider. “Controlled chaos, Jeremy. That’s exactly what I’m offering. You like games, right? A real test of skill, speed, endurance… fear. And the ones who survive till the end win.”

Derek practically bounced in his seat. “Finally! Now that’s an initiation I can get behind!”

Jeremy’s expression didn’t change. “We’ll do it your way, but only if the rules are clear. No accidental deaths.”

I smirked, because we both knew that’s definitely going to happen.

“I’m dead serious, Niko. Don’t go around on a killing spree,” added Jeremy.

I leaned back, cracking my knuckles, letting the voices hum in the back of my head. Good. They liked this. They needed this.

“Whatever, Jer.” I smiled at him.

He looked less impressed.

“So we are on it, right? We are going to hunt them ourselves?” leaned Derek.

Jeremy nodded once, precise. “Fine. But remember, this isn’t about your amusement, Niko. Same thing for you too, Derek.”

Derek grinned. “And I won’t. I think I’m gonna enjoy this way more than last year’s boring-ass tests.”

I smirked, leaning forward. “See, this is why you need me in this dumb brotherhood—to bring the fun and the adrenaline, instead of it being some kind of controlled secret society.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes.

And then Clinton stepped in, yawning.

“What’s the shenanigans about?” He wiped a hand down his face.

“This year’s initiation, there’s going to be a slight change,” told Jeremy, and from his tone, I could tell he was barely on board with it.

Which had me wondering why he wasn’t opposing it. The clean, prepped, calm, and controlled Jeremy was actually agreeing to the mayhem and chaos?

My eyes trailed him.

“Change?” questioned Clinton as he collapsed on the couch at the far end.

“Hmmmm, I will have Ezekiel start compiling the lists, so that the invitations will be sent out according—” Jeremy’s phone vibrated, and he paused, checking it, his face hardening, and something unusual paled through his features.

New, huh?

He cleared his throat, tucking his phone. “If you have anyone you want to add to the list, send the names to Ezekiel.” He stood. “I have something to take care of.” And he didn’t spare anyone a glance, walking away.

“Okay, that was really sus like hell,” commented Derek, trailing his eyes on Jeremy’s disappearing figure.

And I couldn’t have agreed more.

“I think I’m going to check on him.” Derek stood up, following behind Jeremy.

“So what’s the change in the initiation?” asked Clinton.

I peeled my eyes from the disappearing figures of Jeremy and Derek, letting a slow smirk crawl across my face. “The change? Well…” I leaned forward, letting my elbows rest on my knees, fingers drumming lightly. “This year, we’re not relying on tests or pathetic little challenges to weed people out. Nah, that’s boring. I want the thrill. The fear. The adrenaline.”

Clinton raised an eyebrow, unamused, though there was a flicker of interest in his eyes. “Go on,” he said dryly, stretching his legs out across the couch.

“We are going to chase and hunt them ourselves.” The thought alone had bad stuff pumping into my system.

Clinton immediately sat up. “Hunt and chase them ourselves? Isn’t that going to be a complete bloodbath?”

“Exactly.”

Clinton shook his head, leaning back on the chair. “Seriously, dude, you really need to chill out with your psychopathic tendencies.”

“It’s called joy pills, and you should try them instead of those molly you’re smoking, which is blocking your brain cells.”

He yawned again. “I will pass on that—” he halted, pulling himself up, a frown lined across his face. “Bloody cow, don’t tell me it’s what I’m actually thinking, Niko?”

I didn’t respond, allowing his thoughts to process.

“You aren’t planning on inviting the nerdy boy, right? You said you weren’t going to kill him? Is this some kind of freak accident you’re planning?”

I let the silence stretch, watching Clinton’s frown deepen as his thoughts raced. “Relax,” I said, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Nathaniel Lockwood… he’s part of the hunt. But he’s not going to die. Not… yet.”

Clinton blinked. “Not going to die? You’re serious? Niko, you can’t just… toy with people like that. That kid’s gonna get broken.”

I tilted my head, eyes glinting. “Good. Let him feel it. Let him taste fear. Let him know what happens when he touches me, or my brother, or anyone who’s off-limits.” My voice dropped lower, venomous. “Survival isn’t guaranteed. It’s a reward. And if he’s clever… he might even enjoy it.”

Clinton shook his head, voice low and dry. “You’re insane. You really are. This isn’t fun—it’s… chaos wrapped in a psychotic grin.”

I smirked, letting the voices hum behind my skull, low and hungry. “Exactly. You get it. That’s the whole point. And besides…” I leaned forward, letting my gaze lock with his. “I’ll be chasing him myself. I’ll make sure he survives. If he deserves it.”

Your countdown has begun, Nathaniel Lockwood.