A Firelit Room Game Novels & Stories

It was already getting dark by the time the fire was going and the tents were arranged in a semicircle. “We’re waiting on dinner,” Aaron said, blowing a kiss to Jessica. The girls grilled the meat—Jenny actually got involved this time. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she crouched by the fire, watching the food. Jessica was clearly struggling, but the others helped her out. “Dude, hello?” Daryl said. “Next activity?” The guys laughed. “Oh, right,” I said, snapping out of my daze. “Tonight’s game is called ‘Most Interesting Answer.’”

I said. " Then your mind must be playing games with you." She said as she dragged me out of the room. Games... That word lingered in my mind for a long time. But for the quick movement I noticed, I knew my mind wasn't lying. Someone was indeed in the room with us..... I just need to find out who. . . . Xander's P. O. V

As all of us in the room listened attentively, she spoke words that sent our mind ablaze on fire of conjectures. The candlelight flickered and danced, illuminating the walls like a living shadow, as the silence of the night descended upon the room. All of us eyes were now fixated on the soft rectangular velvet card within our hands, which held the secrets of the game. Like an otherworldly presence, the rules of the game kept us captivated and still. ╭───────────── ⋅ ⋅ ✦❘༻༺❘✦⋅ ⋅ ─────────────╮

I am seriously regretting this game I started. There is nothing I can do tonight, so I slowly rise from the hard floor and dust myself off. I eat a light dinner and make a cup of hot tea. Next, I head upstairs to take a long bath. I begin filling the clawtooth tub with warm water and add in some of my favorite rose bath oils before lighting candles around the room. This is my sanctuary and exactly what I need right now. I lean my head back and breathe in the rose and amber from the candles as Frank Sinatra’s smooth melodic voice fills the room. I was just about to drift off to sleep when suddenly I felt a shift in the atmosphere. Power, raw angry power was headed my way. I see no point in ge

She seemed almost excited and I was grateful that she was in the mood for this. She led the way toward a room in the corner. The door was angled leading to a room that looked almost crooked. It was dark with no windows and smelled thick with spices. Old books lined a 4 shelf bookshelf, dust over them. Kaitlyn drew 4 circles on the ground in a circle. In the center she drew an oval with a large diamond over it. "Take a seat in one of the circles and I'll tell you how this game is played." She lit candles as spoke.

It dominated the center of the room—an in-ground pool with gentle steps leading into crystal clear water that glowed with subtle underwater lighting. At the far end of the room was what looked like some kind of training area—cushioned flooring, a few training dummies positioned against one wall, and various pieces of equipment I didn’t immediately recognize. “Elijah...” I whispered, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. “What is this?” “It’s for you,” he said. “For practicing your abilities. The entire room is fireproof—walls, ceiling, floor, everything. You can unleash as much fire as you want in here without worrying about hurting anyone or burning down the house.”

“Neither was the game. And yet here we are.” Mia and Ryan entered, looking equally shaken. Ryan tossed a book onto Anna’s desk. “Found this in the restricted section of the library.” Anna picked it up, reading the title. The Reflection Game: A Curse Through Time. Mia crossed her arms. “It says the game doesn’t end until all the lost pieces of the players are reclaimed.” Anna swallowed hard. “Which means…” Ryan nodded grimly. “We’re not free yet.” Silence filled the room. Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “So what now?”

Sharon was proving a useful ally, but he knew better than to trust her too much. There was always another agenda with women like Sharon. The elevator dinged, the doors slid open, and he found himself in a plush, carpeted hallway. Leo stepped out; his polished shoes made no sound on the thick carpet. He found Room 1408 at the far end, its door slightly ajar. Leo's brow furrowed, but he didn't hesitate. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was not well-lit; the soft light from a single lamp cast long shadows on the walls.

Not the formal sitting room — the smaller one, the room that was not for guests, the room that was the room of the evenings without an audience, which I had come to understand across the months as the most accurate room in the house, the room that was the house at its private register. The fire. He had set the fire before I arrived — I understood this because the fire had the quality of a fire that had been going for some time, that had found its rhythm, that was past thedeliberate and into the ambient. The room was warm in the specific way of a room with a real fire, which was different from the warm of heating sy