I Expected A Battle Of Wits Novels & Stories

My message flashed on the screen: "Hey, you want a challenge? Let's fight." The response came quickly: "Sure." I smiled, anticipation building within me. Bring it on. The fight was intense, lasting a grueling fifty-two minutes. I was at the peak of my game, my fingers flying across the controller as I dodged and weaved through the virtual battlefield. My opponent was tough, but I was determined to emerge victorious. Just as I was about to deliver the final blow, my opponent suddenly unleashed a devastating attack, blowing me up with a last-ditch effort. I stared at the screen, my eyes wide with shock and disappointment.

I burst out laughing. "You think Tom sent that text? That was me." Jacob's face went slack. "You don't mean Edgar…" Exactly. I killed Edgar. As a kid, I used to torture animals, watching them writhe and die in pain. It wasn't that the idea of doing it to people had never crossed my mind. I found doing it myself to be boring. Getting others to do it was the real high. Toying with someone's mind and keeping them in my palm was what hooked me.

"Isabella, I heard you learned how to fight in prison. Why don't you give Elena a show? If you can make it lie down obediently, you get a hundred grand tonight." "A hundred grand…" I murmured. I stared at the restless beast. Its eyes were bloodshot, a low growl vibrating deep in its throat. This wasn't entertainment; it was a gladiator match. But I couldn't walk away from that money. I took off my jacket, revealing arms mapped with scars and fresh bandages from the ballistic test earlier that afternoon. "Deal." I had barely taken two steps when the Rottweiler went berserk. It broke free of the leashes and lunged at me with a thunderous roar.

“You’re up.” I felt my heart skip over the name, and when no one immediately stepped forward I felt the knots in my stomach tighten with anxiety. Then somewhere in my peripheral vision I caught movement, and I whirled around to get a look at my would-be opponent. As soon as I saw Brian, I blinked as my brain failed to immediately register that it was him I would be fighting against. I mean, I’d expected… not someone like Elias exactly, but someone more… Well, not Brian?

As far as I cared, there was no one else in the room, and from his gaze, we were of the same mind. He smiled, very lightly. I didn’t smile back. I couldn’t. I fell backward, the world fading to black. ========== Whether Leon had forgotten that last part about the event tied to his message, I didn’t know. But I, would not lose a challenge. I would take my pound of flesh. One way, or another. It was clear to me that giving up the contract would just be another win in his favor. I wasn’t going to allow that, but those were considerations for later.

I was done being a pawn in their twisted games. *Whatever your plans were for me, they won't work this time,* I thought, my gaze hardening. *I'm ready to fight back.* The sweet scent of roses suddenly felt like a suffocating shroud, a reminder of the deception that surrounded me. The battle had begun, and I was finally ready to play.

This battle was just to release a little of the anger and loss that she was feeling. "I can't understand why you don't accept your mate . Isn't he the person you've been longing for for a long time?" The mysterious thing said from inside her, and she smiled sarcastically and did not answer him, but rather simply turned to the other person as she set off with all her might for a fierce battle. “Who do you think will win?” Edith stood behind her witches, looking at the battle that was taking place between Artemis and Martha, who was fighting quietly.

Every contestant would bet on something before going up to the battle platform just like how Wesley and Dale both betted on a hundred and fifty contribution points for their battle. Fane asked about Wesley’s bet because Wesley did not have an individual room of his own and it made sense for him to ask but to the others, it sounded like he had totally gone insane. It was enough that he remained impassive after observing Wesley’s power and yet he still had the mood to ask Wesley for his wager? Yup, he had definitely gone insane. Did Fane really think he could win Wesley in a battle? If he really did think so then there was really something wrong with his brain. Even Noel and Brook could not be

“Not just in chess, but in life. The moment you hesitate, someone stronger will exploit your weakness.” My eyes flicked up to meet his. “Not everyone sees life as a battlefield,” I replied, my tone sharper than the queen I finally moved across the board. “Some of us make decisions based on more than just winning.” James smirked. “Spoken like someone who’s never won anything of significance.” My jaw tightened, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of a retort. This was how our games always went: James, the ruthless tactician, treating the board like an extension of his empire, and unlucky me, his reluctant opponent, struggling to hold her ground.