Mindgames Novels & Stories

Zach, do you think I'm going crazy? At that moment, Zach's voice rang out, "If you're that miserable, then you should move out."

"We'll stay, wow. I didn't know you took a course in blackmailing." "I had to take online courses." Martha whispers, looking over Bethany who's starting to relax. "Don't worry, we'll play a couple games. You're the bosses, no one can fault you if you come late to work, or don't even go at all." "Well, that's the joy of it. So what's after dinner?" "I have planned the game room for us. There is poker, chess, scrabble, go stop, pool and even backgammon if that's where you lean."

I trade my phone for my vibrator and think of Archer. I sit at my desk, drumming my fingers on the surface as I scan through a file that was just sent to me. It’s nearing lunchtime, and I’m both starving and nauseous. Again. Supposedly this feeling will go away, but right now, I’m convinced it’s my new normal and I’ll always feel like I’m going to throw up, even after this kid is born.

In her opinion, there were no ranks among the games. Zayden gave her a disapproving look and said, “I don’t think so. Let’s take playing cards an example. As long as one gets his cards, he can guess what cards the other players have. I don’t think this kind of game takes much brain.” “Really?” Alice asked with doubt. “I have heard that some people can remember the cards that other players have played, but I have never heard of anyone that can guess the cards in the other player’s hands when he gets his cards. It’s impossible.”

"I'll find a new partner. Jamie can team up with Mum so she can participate in the games for a change." We all wondered who Jeanette's new partner would be, but Auntie Laurel seemed surprisingly calm. I overheard her telling Jamie, "We have to win, so I don't have to buy Conrad or Jeanette a car. I don't want either of my children to end up in jail or reported missing." As we gathered in the living room, Auntie Laurel announced the games for the night—charades, French culture, and painting. However, Jeanette's partner had yet to arrive.

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.

I had thought I would calmly expose his lies, but my body couldn't help but tremble as I spoke. "You disgust me! Since that's the case, I'm done playing this game. Go, be happy with her." Shane didn't expect me to know the truth, and he couldn't even form a proper sentence. "W-What do you mean, you're done playing this game?" "I'll leave this world. I won't appear in front of you anymore." A trace of panic appeared on Shane's face. He clenched his fists, but with so many people around, he still forced a smile. "That's got to be a bluff! Your mission's not complete yet, so your sister will die!"

It hung low and dangerous, like it was daring you to break it. Down the hall was the game room. PS5s. Arcade machines DLS, Free fire, Call of duty Mobile, VR helmets, a snooker table, a dart board, chess, checkers, Scrabble, racing games. Name it. The walls were soundproofed so nobody could hear them screaming at 2am when Ivan lost a game. They'd broken two controllers just last month.

"That was me. Just because Zane was jealous of my eyes, you shaved my head and bullied me until I stood on a rooftop ready to jump. "And when I was about to jump—" A voice echoed in my mind. [Binding complete.] The reward for completing the mission wasn’t $100 million. It was $1 billion. The other $900 million had already been advanced to me over the years. It didn’t have human emotions, but it raised me well. It used money to transfer me to better schools and told me that studying was my only way out. Back then, I had relied on it completely. I was afraid it would disappear, so I once asked what a “mission” even was.

Kensington asked. I glanced at Isabella. "I'm no expert," I said with a polite smile, "but I'd be delighted to join." We moved to the opulent game room—scents of exotic wood and expensive tobacco hanging in the air. The stakes were ridiculous—a single round was ten thousand credits. Miranda—Isabella—leaned closer. "Do you actually know how to play?" I smiled. "Don't worry. I'll make sure the ladies leave satisfied." Truth be told, I was mediocre at Mahjong. But I knew exactly why I was here. This game wasn't about me—it was about keeping Isabella's wealthy friends entertained. And if I could drain Isabella's coffers in the process? Even better.