“Well done, Mr Fen,” the Game Master spoke through the iPad once again.
We watched as Caelan’s mother was untied and led away by the mysterious man in black. I could physically feel Caelan’s relief, and I slipped my hand in his and gave it a squeeze.
“Now you have the rest of the day to yourselves,” the GM stated.
Puzzled, Caelan and I frowned at each other.
“I would imagine by now that you’re both in need of a decent meal and a hot shower. You’re both to go to Mr Fen’s house and await Game Three, which will begin at the stroke of midnight. Under no circumstances are you to leave until I have forwarded the next instruction.”
The Game Master was allowing us to go to Caelan’s home and wait. There had to be some reason for him to grant us home comforts.
“You will both inform your respective employers of an illness. But, remember, I’m always watching, and if you try to notify anyone of our game, then you will forfeit the lives of your families.”
Although the screen turned black, notifying us that the GM had finished his instruction, both Caelan and I stared at it for an age.
“You think it’s a trap?” I asked Caelan when he looked at me as sceptically as I did him.
“Hmm. Not sure. But I won’t argue with him.”
I nodded. The thought of a hot shower was really appealing. My clothes were saturated, and the chill was starting to rattle my bones.
“I don’t like the sound of the next game starting at midnight, though.”
“My thoughts precisely,” he agreed.
Day 2
23:07
Caelan’s house was a small but modern two bedroom – thankfully. I had thought it would be a little awkward, staying in his home but I supposed after he had saved my life, as I had his, it did more than enough to break the ice.
After a hot shower Caelan had rustled up a simple meal of pasta and meatballs and we had both taken a much-needed nap.
Neither of us discussed the fact that the Game Master had left me a fresh pair of clothes on Caelan’s spare bed. It hadn’t surprised either of us that he had access to Caelan’s home. After all, the GM had proved he was far from an amateur.
The clock was forever ticking, midnight now less than an hour away, and we were both anxious to get it over and done with.
Music played low in the background as we both nursed a hot coffee on Caelan’s sofa.
“Do you have any enemies?” he asked. He didn’t look at me but kept his gaze fixed on the flames of his gas fire.
“More than you can imagine.”
Turning his head sharply, he looked at me in astonishment.
Shrugging, I placed my empty cup on the table. “I’m not sure why you’re so shocked by that. You don’t know me.”
He nodded as he got up and walked over to a cupboard. Opening it, he retrieved a bottle of Jack Daniels. “True. Have you thought of anyone who could hold this degree of animosity?”
“Lots.” I nodded towards where he poured a large measure of whisky into my mug. “You sure that’s wise?”
“No.” He scoffed. “But I need it to steady my nerves. One small one won’t hurt.”
Agreeing with him, I took a greedy gulp, relishing the burn as the liquor hit the back of my throat.
“And you?” I asked when he settled back down beside me.
“I’m a copper. It goes without saying I have enemies. Trouble is there are far too many for me to pinpoint this on anyone specific.”
“What was the answer to the sum, by the way?”
Caelan glanced at me curiously. “Why?”
“No reason really. The first code was seven two nine. I’m looking for clues wherever I can get them.”
“11520,” he stated. “Although I’m not sure what we can get from a bunch of random numbers, Nessa.”
“But what if they’re not random? This is his game, and I have no doubt this shit turns him the hell on. He’s playing us, and it’s just a sport to him. He needs entertainment, and I’m taking nothing for granted where the Game Master is concerned.”
Reaching onto the table behind him Caelan picked up a notepad and pen. “Okay, let’s try.”
Jotting down the numbers, we both sat and stared at them for a while. My brain was exhausted, and I shook my head angrily. “Even if we give each number a respective letter of the alphabet it still doesn’t make sense.”
“I don’t think that until we have all eight codes we will figure it out, to be honest,” Caelan mused, rubbing his tired eyes.
“Yeah, maybe.”
He poured us another measure of whisky and turned to me. “So, you’re right, I don’t know anything about you. Married? Kids?”
“Neither,” I half-lied. “You?”
“Divorced, but no kids.”
I nodded, remembering him telling me that one of the GM’s captors was his ex-wife. “Were you married for long?”
He sucked in a long breath and shrugged. “Just over three years. But, we were together for ten years.”
Nodding, I sighed and took another sip before saying, “So, that’s why he took her…”
“Jenny,” he said, filling in her name.
“Jenny, because she’s still a huge part of your life?”
“Yeah. I hurt Jen, and I’m not proud of that. But that’s the kind of woman she is. We’re still friends and we both mean a great deal to each other.”
Giving him a sad smile when I saw the fear seep into his eyes, I quickly changed the subject. “So, your sister-in-law.” Though, the way his body stiffened, I wasn’t entirely sure the change of topic was any easier for him. “You obviously have a brother.” I found it strange that Caelan’s ‘line-up’ didn’t include his brother. Then again, she could have been Jenny’s sister.
“Had.” The way he said that one word and the blanket of melancholy that settled around him had me wanting to snatch back my words.
When the iPad suddenly lit up, the mood swiftly altered from gloom to unease. Ice-cold fear slithered through my bloodstream as goosebumps beaded on my skin. A shiver racked my body, and my mouth dried when I heard his voice.
“Good evening, gamers.”
Gamers? This bastard’s sense of humour was bordering on disturbing.
“I do hope you’ve both had a pleasant rest.”
I heard the faint crack from Caelan when he gnawed his teeth together, his jaw as tight as my fists.
“It’s been a ball,” Caelan growled out.
My next breath caught in my throat when an image of Stuart, my step-father, appeared on the screen. A timer popped up over his head and text scrolled across the screen below him.
4:00
‘In a field made of many stones,
there’re lives this world no longer owns.
In the corner by the large yew,
is where you will find your next clue.’
Caelan blew out a long breath and turned to me. “We can do this,” he declared with a resolve I didn’t feel.
“Stuart,” I whispered. I knew Caelan already realised this, but I felt the need to tell him anyway.
“I know.”
I had already fathomed where the riddle was directing us, and when Caelan snatched up his car keys and nodded to me reassuringly, I gathered he had guessed correctly too.
The fact that the Game Master was sending us to a graveyard at midnight filled me with trepidation.
Nevertheless, we didn’t have much choice. So, fortifying myself with an imaginary kick up the arse, I followed my gaming partner out of his front door and joined him in the realms of hell itself.
Day 3
00:26
I detested graveyards in the middle of balmy summer days, never mind on cold, pitch-black frosty nights. Especially this one. Yew Tree Cemetery.
A few leaves leftover from the autumn cull littered the path, and when the wind suddenly picked up, they blew aside in a mass swirl, lifting from the ground as if they were explicitly ordered to move out of
our way.
The glow of light from the torch Caelan held bounced over the hilly terrain, making the shadows that loomed in the darkness dance for us.
A shiver raced through me and the hairs on the nape of my neck snapped to attention. I became aware of everything around me, my eyes hunting for escape routes and possible dangers, my ears alert to each sound in the darkness. Denny had taught me everything he knew, and right then I wanted to bring him back from the dead purely so I could thank him again.
Glancing over my shoulder as I ran behind Caelan, I was relieved to find we were still alone – well, so I reckoned from the small area visible to my eyes.
“You still with me?” Caelan shouted, bringing my attention back to him and our task ahead.
“Yeah. Keep going!”
The small chapel that sat in the centre of the grounds emerged ahead, it’s imposing structure as unnerving as the bones that our feet pounded over. No lights shone from the windows, and I was thankful that our clue hadn’t led us inside it; it was spookier than the graveyard itself.
Caelan veered off to the right, following the path that meandered behind the building and leading us to the far right of the grounds.
I breathed a little easier when the cemetery’s namesake, a well-established yew tree, materialised in the distance. It was evident Caelan also knew his way around the churchyard, his direct route that led us to the right corner something I was glad of. We couldn’t waste precious minutes hunting in the darkness.
My belly tightened with dread when I saw a note nailed to the trunk.
‘Six feet down you must go
to disentomb what lies below.
Through dirt and bone, you must explore,
to retrieve the key to the chapel door.’
So much for avoiding the chapel, then.
Caelan spun around in a circle, searching with the torch. “Jesus Christ,” he mumbled when the beam fell upon a grave. Two spades leaned against the headstone and beside them was an industrial-sized floodlight.
Glancing at the timer on the iPad, I grumbled under my breath, “Three and a half hours to exhume a body.” Caelan scowled at me when I exclaimed. “We’ve no chance.”
“We’ve every chance, Nessa.”
Firing up the large, bulky spotlight, it’s direction already correctly aimed at the grave, Caelan didn’t waste time and handed me one of the spades.
The further down we dug, the less progress we seemed to be making. My muscles ached and sweat rolled down my face from the exertion. Caelan, luckily, was fit and he shovelled the dirt at an astonishing rate, but I was forever aware of the minutes ticking by. Each second that passed was like a rhythmic pulse in my head, every thud on my mind an echo of Stuart’s heartbeat that rested in my hands. Failing wasn’t an option, yet I felt the sting of tears the longer we took to burrow deeper down.
My mind whirled as to why the Game Master played his sick game with Caelan and I. Why us two specifically? The only answer I could come up with was this had something to do with Denny. Yes, my husband had upset many in his short life, but why now, three years after his death?
The sound of Caelan’s grunts the harder he dug was a pace we found ourselves ploughing through the earth to. However, every single scrape of my shovel into the ground was topped by two of Caelan’s. Not that I complained.
Finally, when the sound of metal hitting wood resounded in our ears, Caelan grinned at me.
Putting our shovels aside, we continued to dig at the remaining dirt with our hands.
“Sure you don’t want to look away?” Caelan asked as he positioned the tip of his spade to the edge of the coffin.
Raising an eyebrow, I sighed. “I’ve seen plenty of dead bodies in my life. I’m sure another won’t make a difference to my sanity.”
Nodding, he chuckled. “Keep forgetting you’re a doctor.”
“Just hurry!”
A crack splintered the otherwise silent night as Caelan yanked the lid upwards, the decaying wood breaking to pieces in his hands.
Something niggled at my mind and I frowned. “Caelan.”
He turned, grinning at me as he held a long rusty key in his fingers. “Found it!”
I scanned the area, looking towards the mound of the earth we’d dug up, turf included. “Caelan.”
“What?” he answered vaguely as he hoisted himself out of the hole and held out a hand to help me up.
Brushing myself off after climbing out, I bit my lip, angry with myself as I tried in vain to figure out what was bugging me. Exhaustion suppressed every possible train of thought, and the more I tried to think the more frustrated I became.
Shaking myself off and cursing under my breath, I bounded after Caelan who was already heading towards the chapel.
A flutter of bats swooped over our heads when Caelan unlocked the door and forced it open. I squealed but only because they had surprised me. Caelan swung around, checking on me. “Okay?”
I nodded, took a breath, and followed him in.
Day 3
03:56
00:14
‘The number you must dial
to save Stuart an awful trial,
is guarded by four simple locks
that gain you entry into the small box.’
Glancing from the riddle to a small chest secured by four simple padlocks, I felt my stomach flip-flop with worry.
“We don’t have time!” I exclaimed as I snatched up a large hoop that must have contained at least forty keys.
“We do!” Caelan insisted. His optimism was beginning to annoy me, but in a way, he was right. We HAD to have enough time. There was no other choice.
Tears stung my eyes when I gazed at the love of my mother’s life on the screen of the iPad, the timer above his head like a noose around my neck, each second that ticked by another centimetre the rope tightened.
Caelan snatched the keys from me and pulled at the two rings that split the bunch in half. Handing me one half, he didn’t wait and started to slot various keys into the fourth padlock. I started at number one, quickly switching through the many different keys.
00:09
Finally, the first padlock flicked open and I breathed a sigh of relief. Caelan then proceeded to open his first lock seconds behind me.
Perspiration made the keys slip in my fingers, and I grew irritated with myself. I needed to work quicker.
00:04
“Fuck! Caelan!” I was starting to panic, my eyes frequently glimpsing from the padlock to the timer on the iPad. Stuart stared straight ahead, unaware of just how much his life depended on my gaming partner and me.
“Calm down!” Caelan spoke quietly, his concentration set on his task. He hissed a, “Yes!” when his final lock clicked open.
00:01:32
Tears fell down my face, obscuring my vision and hindering my attempts to slot in the keys. Caelan took over from me, working his way through his own set of keys on my one remaining padlock. As if by magic, the first key he chose unlocked the final lock.
00:00:05
Throwing open the box, Caelan grabbed the mobile phone that sat inside. His hands shook as he started to input the numbers that were jotted down on a small piece of paper.
002…
14...
I couldn’t take my eyes off the iPad, the image blurring under the sheen of tears and the tremble in my hands.
“Caelan!” I screamed when the man in black came to stand behind Stuart. In his hand he held a katana. The beat of my heart paused when he slowly lifted his arm.
00:00:01
34…
00:00:00
My whole world crumbled, and I fell to my knees when the timer clicked to zero, and the man in black decapitated Stuart’s head in one single smooth stroke of the blade.
Day 3
08:31
Numbness had settled in. I couldn’t feel the beat of my heart or see anything but the gory sight of Stuart’s blood spray the camera that had been trained on him. The echo of my moth
er’s screams and the sound of Carolyn’s loud cries refused to allow me to hear anything else.
My head rested on Caelan’s lap, and his fingers softly stroked my hair, his faint shushes doing nothing to comfort the devastation I felt.
A part of me thought that the GM wouldn’t do it, that his threats would be unfounded. But, now, I finally realised just how dangerous this sick motherfucker was.
“I’m going to kill him, Caelan. And, copper or not, I don’t care if you’re there to witness it.”
I sensed his nod, but he didn’t verbally respond. I knew he didn’t believe me. They never did. I was merely a woman, I wouldn’t hurt someone, right? Wrong! They always had that flicker of confidence in their eyes when I stepped up to take their last breath, and when realisation dawned, and horror slowly crept over them, I found that just as exhilarating as the execution itself.
Gently Caelan lifted my head and placed it back down on the sofa cushion when he stood up. “I’m going to run you a bath.”
I didn’t answer him; he didn’t expected me to. Nor did I watch him leave. I couldn’t lift my head with the exhaustion that had taken over. So much blood. I’d seen some gruesome shit in my life, both professionally and personally, but the way the man in black had so effortlessly taken Stuart’s life was staggering. He had shown no hint of apprehension, no jolt in his strike when he had swung the blade. Empathy should make him hesitate, give pause as one’s conscious fought between immorality and integrity. This man was merciless, inhumane.
The Game Master had upped his game.
Sitting upright, I picked up the notepad and jotted down the phone number.
Game Master Page 3