V Games: Fresh From The Grave (The Vampire Games Book 2)

by Caroline Peckham

  My thumb hovered over the option to message him. But the picture put me off. Had he sold me out after all? Had Mekiah and Reason rescued his Alpha and abandoned me? But if they had, surely Ulvic wouldn't be here, attending the games, cosying up to Ignus? No, he had to still be playing along. And that gave me a surge of hope.

  I tapped out a quick message, not wanting to be obvious we were in an alliance in case Ignus read his messages.

  Looking forward to watching the games?

  Discovering another tab, I found my way to a list of profiles. The contestants were, once again, entirely female, and my heart beat a frantic tune in my ears as I thumbed through their statistics. Some of their rankings were still undetermined, but others were rated from 1 to 10 like me. The odd girl was even ranked zero and their profiles had been scored out with a giant X. I shuddered to guess what that meant; some girls hadn't even survived the initiation test...

  There must have been fifty of us, much more than last time. I paused on an ebony-skinned girl with violent pink hair that was cropped-short, her arms crawling with dark tattoos. Her profile revealed she was an eighteen year old from Louisiana. But that wasn't what caught my eye. It was the ranking of 10 illuminated beneath her name, Twyla-Rae Stepson. What did she do to get a 10?

  I noticed a flag beneath her picture, informing me she had posted a video. Curious, I pressed on it and the video filled the screen. Twyla-Rae's face took up the entire space, baring her teeth, before saying in her thick southern tones, “Thanks for the invite, Helsings, here's my acceptance letter.” She angled the camera behind her where she'd painted on the white wall in thick, blackish V blood:

  Twy Won't Die.

  The footage ended and I sank down to the floor, in shock. I was rocked to my core, knowing without a shadow of a doubt, that these games were going to be brutal. As I continued to scroll through profiles, I grew almost as fearful of meeting some of the girls as I was the Vampires in the game.

  And worst of all, I had one, enormous disadvantage already: I had to rely on the spectators liking me to survive. So I was unquestionably damned.

  Selena

  I was left in that room for an age with the V's body crumpled on the floor. The more I stared at it, the more I saw the human he'd once been. I'd concluded that he was male by the broadness of his shoulders and the tapering muscles at the base of his spine. And the more I looked, the more I feared for Varick. What if he was like one of these creatures now? How long did it take for him to become one of them? I was certain he'd told me once, but I struggled to remember. Days? Weeks?

  I spent some time flicking through the girls' profiles, trying to assess who seemed approachable and who didn't.

  After a while, a flag popped up on my screen and I pressed it, finding I had a private message from someone called Typhon.

  They're going to test you soon. Make sure the viewers like you.

  Fear skittered through my chest at the words, but curiosity too. Why had this spectator singled me out to help? And more importantly, what kind of 'test' was I soon going to be facing?

  I hovered my thumbs over the screen, considering what to reply.

  And how will I manage that?

  I didn't elaborate on why that might be a problem. Perhaps some of the new spectators didn't know about what had happened back on Raskdød. How I'd befriended a Vampire and escaped the island.

  A lot of the men are talking about you already.

  They know you killed Brice Edgewater.

  Play up to this.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. Aware of the hidden cameras in the room, I tried to hide my reaction, not wanting the spectators to think I was disgusted by them. Even though I was. Viscerally.

  But if I was going to survive long enough to find Varick, I had to play the game.

  Typing out a stream of curses, I deleted them before writing:

  And why would that help me?

  He messaged back immediately.

  It makes you seem strong.

  Don't hide your anger with them.

  Never let them see you weak.

  I stood, pursing my lips. It wasn't a terrible idea. Probably better than anything I would have come up with on my own. But when I was going to get a chance to play this angle was a mystery to me.

  Before I could reply, the soft male voice sounded into the room again. “Please follow the arrows to the start of the game.” The wall before me slid aside and a white stone corridor awaited me beyond it with bright red arrows illuminated on the walls. I tethered my tablet to my arm and cautiously stepped forward, peeping out into the space. The corridor curved away in a wide arc and along the walls either side of me were more open doors. Girls appeared from them all dressed in extravagant gowns every colour of the rainbow.

  A girl in a blue gown approached me, her long blonde curls flowing around her shoulders.

  “Hi, I'm Amanda,” she whispered in an American accent. “Do you know what's going on?”

  My brows drew together and slowly, I nodded. “I've played before.”

  A girl nearby heard me say this and drew immediately closer. She wore a lilac gown and had golden brown skin. When she spoke, she did so with a soft Indian accent. “What do you mean? What's going to happen to us?”

  I shook my head slightly, not wanting to draw too much attention. “I wasn't here. This is a different island. A different game.”

  They fell silent, but looked like they wanted to ask more. We walked together in a close-knit line, all of clutching our stakes tightly.

  “I'm Eesha, by the way,” the Indian girl said, keeping close as we walked on.

  Ahead of us, I spotted Twyla-Rae with her bright pink hair, clad in an ebony dress. My heart jolted as her eyes met mine and I was reminded of the time I'd first walked into prison, being sized up by Kite. But I'd been through enough not to falter and returned her a small nod. I had to make allies if I was going to survive. And her high rating meant she was the sort of girl I needed to get close to. Even if that meant making friends with people I would readily have avoided anywhere outside of this game.

  Ahead of her, a girl was crying on the floor, seemingly throwing a tantrum as she beat the ground with her fists. Many of the girls were taking measured steps around her, but as we approached, I slowed, bending low and touching her arm with a pang of pity.

  “It's alright.”

  The girl tossed back her head and blonde dreadlocks whipped around her shoulders, revealing large black tunnels in her ears. Her eyes weren't even slightly tinged red as she abruptly stopped crying. “Is it working?” she asked in a British accent, taking my wrist with a wicked smile.

  I yanked my arm back but she held on tight, tugging herself to her feet. Lifting her face to the ceiling, she screamed, “I'm not playing until I get another dress!”

  I retracted my hand from her pincer-like grip. “What are you doing?” I hissed in alarm.

  She spun around, making her lime-green dress twist about her knees. “Unzip me,” she commanded with so much ferocity that I immediately complied.

  The girl shimmied out of her dress, stepped out of the folds and walked onward in her lacy black brazier, tights and army boots.

  “What the hell?” Amanda muttered.

  The half-naked girl turned back, pouting her slanted lips at me. “Name's Thames by the way. Us Brits gotta stick together.” She winked at me, continuing on at a fast pace down the corridor.

  I shared a nervous glance with my newfound companions and we continued on until we reached a large, open doorway. We headed through it, arriving in a vast, underground chamber of cream stone and marble pillars ringing the room.

  Fifty girls were gathered at the heart of it, some bunching close together whilst others kept their distance. Something about the place made a hush descend over us all, so everyone spoke in whispers.

  As the last of us filed into the room, the doors slid smoothly shut behind us. A flitter of panic went through me. I gazed left and right towa
rd the edges of the room, expecting all hell to break loose at any moment.

  “If Vampires come at us, stick together,” I hissed at Amanda and Eesha either side of me.

  They nodded, wide-eyed, drawing closer.

  The soft male voice from the initiation echoed through the entire space. “If you were rated between 6 and 10 in your initiation test, please make your way through the door to your left.” An opening appeared in the wall and my heart rate increased. What did this mean? Why were we being split up?

  As over half the girls headed toward the door, including Thames, Twyla-Rae and Eesha, the rest of us were left, panic-stricken at the heart of the room.

  Amanda whimpered and I gripped her arm, keeping her close.

  The voice spoke again. “Those of you who received a rating between 1 and 5 please now make your way through the door to your right.”

  I inched after the others, knowing this was bad. Knowing death could await us at every turn. I drew on my experience from the last game, trying to clear my head. Amanda was looking to me for encouragement and I shot her a weak smile.

  The only thing driving me as I took step after shaky step, was my determination to find Varick. What if he was awaiting me around the next corner? I had to be ready if he was.

  As we moved from the cavernous room into a narrow corridor, music filled my ears. It sounded as a loud din, gathering overhead like someone was beating a war drum, coupled with a pulsing, electronica tune that grew faster and faster in time with my heartbeat.

  The group filed along the space, many of them disappearing from view as the corridor curved out of sight.

  Amanda clasped my arm, pulling me to a halt. “What's happening?”

  I shook my head, because I truly had no idea. Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned I'd been through this before. Because now Amanda thought I knew what was coming.

  A crowd suddenly roared above the ceiling, the clamour of their voices and stamping feet growing and growing. I gazed upward, anxiously chewing my lip.

  A voice rang out above them, booming through a microphone; a voice I recognised.

  “Welcome to the Isle of Lidelse!” Abraham cried, followed by a raucous of cheering. “My son, Ignus, has been developing this new island for many years and it's finally time to present to you the brand new V Games!” He paused as the cheering died out and some of them started wolf-whistling.

  “Behind me are the girls you have rated the highest in their initiation test and are therefore automatically entered into the games.”

  My heart faltered. That did not bode well for the rest of us.

  “Those who scored five or lower will now be given the opportunity to win your favour,” Abraham explained and the whistling grew louder.

  I shut my eyes for a moment, collecting my thoughts, fear darting through my chest. I thought of what the stranger Typhon had advised me to do. I had to appear strong. No matter what.

  The soft male voice emitted around the corridor we were standing in. “Please place two feet inside one of the red circles.” One by one, we slowly moved into the red circles on the floor, each paced five feet apart.

  Abraham's voice blared above us. “Without further ado, it's time for the first event: The Election!”

  The crowd went mad and my world shifted as the circle of floor beneath my feet rose into the air. I caught my balance, gazing upwards as the ceiling opened and spotlights poured down on me, burning my retinas. I held up an arm in front of my face, squinting into the light as I rose higher and higher, balancing precariously on the small platform.

  I emerged in a vast amphitheater through a trapdoor at the very edge of the stands. The platform raised on an extending, robotic arm until it halted above a huge ring of sand, fifteen feet beneath me. Surrounding me was a circle of seating, raising high up toward the night sky, filled to the brim with men in white masks that covered just the top halves of their faces. They hooted and cheered as all twenty three girls with a low rating were raised above the sand pit.

  Four huge screens were erected around the stands and drones swept by us, filming our every move, capturing our frightened expressions.

  Across from me, on the other side of the arena, was a stage. The contestants who had ranked highly were sat on rows of benches behind Abraham; he was stood before a podium, smiling smugly up at us all. He raised a hand and the clamour of cheering lowered. The lighting around the arena dimmed leaving only the ominous red glow from our raised podiums visible..

  Below us, the sandpit turned blood-red as filtered lights were thrown across it.

  Abraham lifted his chin. “Now, it's time to introduce the real stars of the show.” At his final word several doors slid open around the base of the pit and a flood of twenty people swarmed onto the sand. No, not people. Vs.

  Snarling, haggard Vs.

  My heart lurched upwards and I struggled to keep still, throwing out my arms to keep my balance on the tiny platform. The crowd went wild and I looked around at them all, disgusted. I was desperately afraid, balancing above those Vampires, most of them looking hungry enough to eat all of us at once.

  I sucked in a breath, but it did nothing to calm me down. One wrong move and I'd tumble into the jaws of starving Vs. I focused my thoughts, scouring the group of Vampires, desperately searching for Varick. But he wasn't amongst them.

  I wasn't sure whether it was the burning lights or the absolute fear causing sweat to gather on my brow. As a drone floated lazily past me, my expression was blown up tenfold on the screens. I looked pale, my hands visibly trembling. In the huge white dress I was wearing, I looked like a bride who'd just been told the wedding was off. I reconstructed my expression at last minute, forcing a sneer.

  A sound collected in my ears that made me horribly afraid. Boos. I was being booed by nearly half the crowd. But another sound gave me hope. Amongst them, many of the men were hooting and cheering.

  My lungs compressed. I had to get the rest of them to like me. I was certain my life depended on it. I was just a contestant in a reality show to them. They didn't care about my life. What it meant if they took a dislike to me. But, just like the shows I'd seen on TV in the past, I knew a crowd's mind could be changed. I just had to play the right angle.

  “Amanda Jenkins,” Abraham addressed the girl to my left. I glanced around to look at her, finding her knotting her fingers into the skirt of her blue dress. All of the spotlights flashed out, every one of them but hers so she was like a shining star in a sea of darkness.

  A drone closed in on her with a microphone attached to it. Her face took up the focus of every screen, her eyes seeming as bright as her dress under all the glaring lights.

  A glaring number 2 flashed up on the screen behind her. Abraham pointed at her. “You have thirty seconds to convince the audience to let you play the V Games.”

  The air was fraught with tension.

  I longed to reach out to her, horrified by the task she'd been given, even more horrified of soon being handed it myself.

  A timer appeared behind Abraham and he spoke in a deadly tone, “Begin.”

  Amanda blinked several times, making a noise of utter panic in her throat. “I-I” she stuttered, looking around for help that no one could offer. “I-I just want to go home!” she sobbed, hiding her face in her hands.

  Her sobs filled the air, magnified by the microphone, resounding through the stadium. It was horrible. I needed it to stop. My heart couldn't take it.

  The longer she cried, the more the spectators grew discontent.

  A breath snagged in my throat as a slow, repetitive clap started up amongst the crowd, growing faster by the second.

  Clap.

  Clap.

  Clap.

  They wanted something to happen.

  I knew what. And I couldn't bear it.

  Amanda started begging, “I just want to go home, please, please!”

  The clapping grew faster and faster; the crowd started chanting a word in time with the persistent beat that ma
de me physically ill.

  “Drop. Drop. Drop. Drop.”

  I braced for what was about to happen.

  “Amanda!” I cried, but had nothing to offer. I couldn't save her. There was nothing I could do but watch as the timer rolled down to zero and, as if in slow motion, Amanda's platform tilted upwards so she slipped forward.

  Time seemed to slow as she slid toward the edge, my heart tumbling with her.

  A blood-curdling scream rang out as she fell, her arms flailing, her dress flying around her through the air as she cascaded toward the pit below.

  The Vs surged toward her, their arms outstretched, their mouths wide, fangs glinting red beneath the lights.

  The contestants screamed, but their horrified wails were lost to the tumultuous cheering that bellowed throughout the stadium as the Vs tore Amanda apart.

  I clasped my hands to my mouth in absolute horror, squeezing my eyes shut, unable to stand it. Terror lived in me for what I'd just seen and, perhaps even more so, for what was to come. Because there was no possible way I could convince the spectators to change their minds about me in thirty seconds.

  I was marked for death.

  This was the end.

  And it was going to be bloody.

  Ulvic

  The word pampered didn't even begin to explain how I'd been treated since I'd arrived on the Isle of Lidelse that morning. Massages, the hotel's personal barber offering haircuts to the men, drinks at all times, from the finest champagne to hundred year old whiskey. Everything was free and offered on silver platters. The second my mind even drifted for a moment, I was given limitless options of entertainment whilst I waited for the games to begin. A sauna, a spa treatment, horse riding, tours to visit the V cells, live music, even a hot springs complete with underwater lights and a cocktail bar located in a cave beneath the hotel itself.