Probably. Most likely.
But it didn’t. It kept happening over and over again. Finn and Ever found each other. Maddy and Carter. I got left behind.
And still, none of them seemed to realize they could only be successful in our game. After all, the game is the epitome of lying expertly. A place where all of them can be so much more than they could be in life. Too much truth would ruin it.
Frankly, that’s a good life lesson too. We’re all playing games. No matter how straightforward someone claims to be, everyone lies. And those of us who understand that? We know you can’t just lose and start over.
We play to win.
I take a step closer to the road.
It does bother me that Finn doesn’t seem to have broken. Not much, in any case. He has his scrapes and scars, but he moves with determination. He’s calmer than I’ve seen all day, almost focused.
I don’t mind that he has a purpose, but I’d like to know what it is.
I scan the environment. The patient mountain, with rocks that could still slip down in a heartbeat. The blocked path was a bit of good timing and exerting the right kind of pressure. I wanted to make life hard for him in all the ways that count.
It was so very easy to do just that. Cruel, too, perhaps, but the hunt never cares about cruelty. Only about power and results. This is my family’s heritage: finding a way to advance despite the odds. Leaving those lesser behind.
Honestly, this was always something I had to do. I knew it the very moment Carter started to succeed at the company, the very moment he stole money and got away with it.
I whistle the tune of the music box, and Finn tenses. With a smile, I fall back into the trees a little. I went walking in these woods nights on end to get a feel for my surroundings. It’s lovely now; I feel at home here.
Briefly, I planned for this to only be about Carter. He was the main threat after all, and the others could still be useful to me. My friends. Or, as Zac called them, my pet projects. I never said he was wrong about that.
I cared about keeping them close. I could’ve kept Maddy closer, but she was such a mess. I didn’t want to burn my hands. There were matters of perception to think of, after all. She could’ve done more. She could’ve worked harder. I worked hard too, after all.
All of them—they could’ve not let their issues hold them back.
Finn hesitates now, and the cracks appear underneath the surface. I feel like a shark, smelling blood, and I can’t help but smile.
A few more steps, friend. Keep walking.
To be fair, being seen with them never was just a matter of perception or pet projects. I did actually, really care about the game. It made me feel like I could be anyone I wanted to be. But whenever we found our way back to the real world again, I knew it would never be that easy. People like me, we don’t have a choice. We have to be on top. It’s the only option.
And when it all started to fall to pieces, I had to take back control.
The highest objective in the world is order, my father once told me. Order is imposed by those people whose duty it is to rein in chaos.
But occasionally, it’s worth it to create chaos. And anger. And fear. It’s pure and unfiltered. It strips everyone down to their core, and there is beauty in that.
It’s curious what a little blood can do.
It’s about the atmosphere too, of course. The right words. The subtlest whispers. Don’t ever let it be said I do not have a flair for drama.
I chose them for a reason. I could’ve fulfilled my duty with anyone who wouldn’t be missed, but there would be no value to that. It would not matter to me. And I want to give this rite of passage the respect it deserves. Not to enjoy it, but to appreciate it. To change my world for the better, and rid it of those who don’t belong. Of the ones who hold me back.
Trust me, it’ll be better this way.
If everything goes according to plan, once the dust settles, I’ll be the sole survivor. The focus of the story. And sure, it’s a bit radical, but it’s also pragmatic. Two birds with one stone. It takes away the threat and it advances my own position, and in the end, isn’t that all that matters?
It almost makes it better that Finn keeps glancing around, like he realizes I—or someone—might be here. That Finn is the last one.
Finn was my first friend. Before Maddy was there, he glommed onto me. Before Ever came around—and even after that—I was the one he told his secrets to. I met his mothers and I accepted them. I was the one he shared his games with, and I encouraged him to pursue them, even if I wasn’t sure the gaming industry was such a great place to be. I was the one he went shopping with, though I always avoided his thrift stores and took him places with more class. I could’ve helped him become so much more than he is if he would’ve just let me.
I still care about him, and that is a problem.
I hear Father’s voice in my head again. Emotions are distractions, and the only way to grow strong is to break through your attachments.
Finn stops and something rustles in the trees near him. Is there movement there?
I stop too and stare. There might be. It might also be a trick of the moonlight or an animal. Finn looks around, searching. Scared? He finds the same spot amidst the trees, and he smiles. He nods.
And he keeps walking toward the
