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I’m coming for you, little rabbit.
Back to back books with the rabbit pet name 🐇
Those dudebro small cock fuck-weasles always signed up for the opportunity to kill a couple civilians without going to jail.
Welcome to Devil’s Playground: Paradise Pier, Killer_Kohl!
once you’d signed the waiver and entered the playground, the only way out was to win.
If I was going to go through with this, I was going to need a reminder of why. Her.
👸
Hard to turn civilians into murderous psychos if you couldn’t promise for them to be filthy rich, famous, and allegedly happy with a white picket fence and two point five kids.
Remember! For Hiders, you win the game if you make it until sunrise without being eliminated.
🌅
For Seekers, you must accrue the most points.”
The predator that I denied in my DNA stirred to life like a bear from hibernation.
I’m coming for you, little rabbit.
🐰
It made me sick, to watch people praise my parents for the horrifying things they’d done in their games.
What did it say about this country that so few people could afford college that they were willing to kill for the opportunity to go?
🤔💯
That was my event. The premise was easy enough, if you’re hiding, stay hidden. If you’re caught, you’re dead.
I liked my secrets good and buried, thank you very much.
We’d promised each other that we wouldn’t enter. It didn’t matter what the expectations were. We were going to be the ones who stopped the cycle. Stop the games by refusing to participate.
so much for that..
There were three kinds of people who entered the Devil’s Playground: The desperate, like me, who needed the money bad enough to risk being murdered for it. The foolish, who hoped to obtain some kind of infamy by participating. Sadists, people who wanted to hurt as many people as they could before the timer was up.
Ugly people were worthless. Uninteresting people were disposable.
It’d be a bummer to watch the Custodians spray her brain matter off the concrete.
That was the thing about Legacies—we never knew when to fucking quit.
That’s right, you fucked around and found out, asshole.
FAFO!!
Rule number one: Get out of the open.
Rule number two: Don’t hide somewhere a stray bullet could hit you.
Finally, rule number three: If all else fails, fight for your life.
I’d spent my college fund trying to stop us from losing the house and paying doctors when his insurance lapsed.
Karma’s a fucking bitch. Now all I’m known for is the short list of traits that I shared with Regina George and every other high school movie mean girl.
🎀
This wasn’t the genetic lottery—it was a fucking curse.
“What kind of sick bastards skin a person for a game?”
Who in their right mind would willingly sign up to become a murderer?
It was hard to feel bad for her when we chose this.
it was like the entire carnival was staffed from the shadows.
The games, concessions, and even the rides all fully operational but not a soul walking around.
Briefly, I remembered that if I ended up like them there was a hastily filled out card with Victoria’s address on it waiting for me.
Sure there were few watching in horror, but the world we lived in had been conditioned for these games.
mixed with the bitter peachy perfume she always wore.
Tom Ford is that you 👀
Before the house of mirrors, I wanted to win for her. Now, I would fight to make sure she was the last one standing.
The Rat Race was the event du jour,
Dylan wasn’t here to save our family legacy. He was here to cut the loose end.
“Newsflash,” he seethed. “You aren’t better than me because you don’t enjoy this.
There was something twisted in me that needed to use them.
whole story is the epitome of TWISTED
some people, once they entered the games, left a part of themselves there.
deep.
Ever since the crash, it’s been me and me alone, and I won’t let my dreams fall aside because my heart is weak.”
I’d waited what felt like a lifetime for this moment. For him to finally realize that I, the person whose life he destroyed, would be the one to do the very same to him.
He acted out of fear, cowardice. I acted out of sheer revenge.
Not like my whole graduating class wasn’t full of them. Over half the student body had a winner in their immediate family.
I owed her this much. A way for her to get her life back together… but in order to do that, I had to break a promise.
All this time, I thought that there was something wrong, broken in me. But it was her.
Who cares that you lived if you didn’t win?
“Come, we don’t have much time to get you cleaned and fitted before Rat Race starts,” he said,
