Back 4 Blood Game Novels & Stories

It was as if her stupidity fed his ego. One night, around 9:00 pm, I came back from the library and noticed that Sienna still wasn't in the dorm. I figured she was out on another date and probably wouldn't come back at all. Just then, my phone rang, and I saw that it was her. I didn't answer. After all, I knew it couldn't be anything good. After trying to reach me three times, Sienna gave up and dialed for Jessica instead. Jessica was in the middle of a game and answered the call without even looking. "It's not my problem if you don't come back. I don't have time for this."

Stupid shoes for a death game, but I didn't dare stop to take them off. "RED LIGHT." The doll's head whipped around so fast it made a cracking sound. I froze mid-step, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst. I could see the doll's face now. Empty black holes where her eyes should be. A smile painted in blood red. She was looking at us, scanning back and forth. Don't move. Don't even breathe. "Player 4 eliminated." I heard a sound like a gunshot, then a thump. From the corner of my eye, I saw a young guy fall to the ground. There was a perfect hole in his forehead, smoking slightly.

Nyx asked, her eyes scanning the crowd around us. We heard a group of girls squealing in excitement as they stared at the wall. “Let’s go check it out,” Eloise said, grabbing both our hands and pulling us toward the crowd. We pushed through until we reached the front, where a large poster had been pinned to the wall. The title read: The Wolfville Blood Games Is Here Again! “Oh my gods!” “No way!” Eloise and Nyx screamed together, hugging me tightly from both sides, practically bouncing with excitement. Meanwhile, I just stared at the poster, confused.

With lightning reflexes, Jake swung the suitcase at the scar-faced rogue. Bloodthirsty, four werewolves clamped down on Jake’s limbs. The last werewolf leaped straight for me. I was quick to dodge, but the werewolf’s claws tore through my collar and left a blood trail along my neck. As my heart raced, I felt a wolf reaching out to me. It was unlikely, though. During my moment of distraction, the rogue got right in my face again. I had to fight him with everything I had. Meanwhile, Jake was pinned down by four werewolves. As I fell into danger, Jake put up a fight, his limbs ripping.

"Ava made a bone flute with my wolf mom's blood and bones. Go beg her instead. After all, Noah said she's a hundred times better than me." I no longer listened to his persuasions. A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips. I blew the bone flute with all my strength. A loud wolf howl pierced the sky. John's face turned pale. "It's over…" A few minutes later, loud thuds hit the front gate. Bang, bang! The gate was broken open. Through a cloud of yellow dust, a pack of wild wolves appeared—all of them towering over men, howling in fury.

I turned around, grabbed his collar, and dragged him over. When the others saw that, they immediately came forward to stop me. However, this was just a feint. Before he wrapped his head fully around what was going on, I let go. Since he did not have a stable footing, he staggered and fell. At that moment, he was almost unable to hide the hate on his face. “Isn’t this what you want? Enjoy it, then.” I glared at him. Suddenly, Naomi rushed over and shouted, “Claude, you piece of trash! Leave!”

For each win, there was a kickback: tiny shards of code exploding outward like shrapnel, flashes of color, and sound that made my teeth buzz. Corvin moved with the pulses, absorbing the worst of the backlash. His palm, still pressed against CONSENT, bled now—dark fluid dripping from between his fingers and evaporating into code before it could hit anything solid. The hand on his sword was slick with it, grip unshaken. He was half-system, half-man, and right now, all of that was being used to keep the Game’s counterattacks from ripping us apart.

He knew the game was far from over, but for now, he’d won this round. “Good,” Shelby muttered, voice low but edged with a warning. “You better not screw this up.” I hesitated for a heartbeat before slipping the Bloodmatch card into my jacket pocket. The cold metal pressed against my skin, a chilling reminder of what I carried—hope, fear, and the possibility of salvation. My lips curled into a grin, but it was crooked and tasted like ash on my tongue. “Don’t worry,” I said softly, voice barely above a whisper. “I won’t screw this up.”

He only saw the bird finally accepting its cage. “We’ll leave on Monday,” he said. “It will be the event of the season, Lisa. I promise you.” He led me toward the stairs, his hand resting possessively on the small of my back. I walked beside him, a ghost in a silk slip, carrying the secret of our blood like a concealed weapon. Toby was coming back. Arthur Vance was waiting in the shadows. And Elaine was waiting with her marble foyer. But none of them knew the real game. None of them knew that the Little Bird had found the key to the cage, and she was going to use it to burn the whole forest down.

“Whose blood did I get?” As much as I told Sirius, that part I left out. He takes another step toward me, rounding the table. “Whose blood did I get, dear step-mother?” Dear step-mother. I shiver from a phantom wind. “I won’t answer any more of your questions. The game is over.” “FUCK THE GAME!” He roars again, renewing his advances. “Whose blood did you pump into me? WHO IS MY NEW KIN?” I stand my ground, yelling right back. “No more questions. Those were the terms!”