Ben Drowned The Game Novels & Stories

My heart slammed wildly, my hand clenching the bedsheet tight under the blanket. What was he doing? Damn it, just kiss me already! I held my breath, not daring to open my eyes. However, my lashes trembled. The next moment, his hand left. The room fell deathly silent. All I could hear was the hammering of my own heart. After a while, the door clicked shut, and Leon was gone. Slowly, I opened my eyes, my gaze sharp and clear. The game has begun, Leon.

I feigned relaxation and was just about to speak when Lloyd ran over, like a shark smelling blood. Worked up, he pointed at me and Wendy, then said to the reporters, “Can you believe them?! They’re actually cheating in public! Take their photos! Wendy Clark won’t be able to hide this!” He sounded really excited, and his features were twisted, which made him look like a monster. However, the cameras trained on me turned to Lloyd, taking him by surprise. Just as he wondered whether they had been bought over, Wendy slapped him in the face, stunning him so much that he found himself unable to react.

It was bliss. It was already past 6 p.m. when we got to the location. ‘A park? That’s your special place?’ ‘I mean, everyone goes to a park or has been to parks uncountable times.’ ‘Relax, Evans. You’re so impatient. We’ve not even gotten to the best part yet. Come on.’ He dragged me by my hands and ran into the field. He literally took me to the visual gaming section, where we had to compete with each other.

"Emma, let's not ever meet again in the next life." Emma finally panicked. "Vince, no!" I turned around and leaped. Down on the ground floor, Bernadette—who had been hiding there smoking a cigarette—stared in stunned horror as I plunged down and landed right in front of her.

They were his allies in this game, and together, they would execute the plan flawlessly. Little did Horacio know that he was walking into a carefully orchestrated trap. Max had meticulously planned every move, every conversation, to manipulate him and expose his true colors. It was a game of psychological warfare, and Max was determined to emerge as the victor. The night wore on, and Max's mind buzzed with anticipation. The stage was set, and the battle had begun. He would navigate through the intricate twists and turns of this revenge, leaving Horacio shattered in his wake. With a renewed sense of purpose, Max raised his beer and proposed a toast to friendship and loyalty. His friends clink

I should have known he would not have been this overly welcoming. Alpha Ben rushed to my aid but it was to late. The next thing I knew was just darkness all around me.

The Carcassonne killer. “Cole,” he growled, “are you laughing at me?” “Who me? Never.” She bit her lip unconvincingly and hoped for later retribution. “You know,” Hazel said, “we should harness Aiden’s power for good and play something cooperative.” They settled on Forbidden Desert—a surprisingly hard-core game for eight-year-olds about repairing a dirigible before dying of thirst or getting buried in sand. Humiliatingly, they tended to get their arses handed to them a lot when they played.

"More like everything. I've sent you the information." "Oh great. Thank you. I owe you one." "No problem. See you later." "Of course." I cut the call and immediately went through the information he had indeed sent already. It was spectacular. Everything I needed in one great detail, and I sure as hell knew I was onto something when I saw that just one person from the three people I had seen that night at the facility was alive. The guy in black. Or Blade, as that was the name he was known by in the underground world.

Remi nudged him aside, walked into the room, sat down on the couch, and immediately looked about at the individuals who were there. They were so into the game that they didn't even notice she had come in. She filled a glass with water. The person who let her in walked up, ripped the headsets off the players, and said, "Stop it. Is she trying to find you?” “Damn it, Dion! What are you doing?” The person in the plaid shirt, Conor Reed was furious when the gaming screen showed his character dying. He turned his head and performed a double-take when he spotted Remi. "Who is this?"

The substitute for the captain replaced his spot and we got ready to play again. “You're so dead,” Dwayne mouthed. I ignored him and focused on the whistle. It came and the game continued. The sweat dripled down my skin and so did my vitality. I scored the points, and again with the crowd cheering. Dwayne was fuming now, his eyebrows furrowed at me before he looked away. Then, it was the third quarter. We played with every strength in our body. Dwayne made a fowl aiming at me, but hit James instead. James nose bled and I rushed to help him up.