Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - The Deadliest Game

Episode Date: December 12, 2022

🎧 Check out The SCP Experience podcast here: https://spoti.fi/3juM1og 🎉 Ad-free episodes + bonus episodes: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep 🎥 YouTube: https://youtube.com/c/DrNoSleep �� Send all advertising inquiries to: [e-mail] Author: Jordan Grupe Website: http://jordangrupe.com/ New Book Release: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08M3ZHK1L/ref=cm_sw_r_awdo_G7796479F48T86Z6ECQN DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content. Parental guidance is advised for children under the age of 18. Listen at your own discretion. #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #truescarystories #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

It was late at night when I pulled up to the property, buried deep in a forest of skeleton-bear trees. My headlights had been off for a while, and I quieted the engines rumble with a backwards twist of the key in the ignition. Once the car was still, I breathed a sigh of relief. No lights were turning on. No people were waking up inside the house. My prey had not noticed me yet. I opened the driver's side door of my truck, keeping the decibels low as I closed it shut behind me again. The cabin lights were rigged to stay dim, and I felt secure in the shadows by the gravel road. There were no cars along this stretch, but still, I had pulled the truck far onto the grass,

tucking it into the darkness of the trees. I strapped two pistols to my waist and one on my ankle, slinging the lightweight assault rifle across my back for long range. I wasn't anticipating a fight, but it was always good to be prepared. The sickle moon overhead provided a sparse glimmer of light as I stepped into the forest and began to move silently through the trees. I'd done this so many times that my feet didn't make a sound as I walked. When you've been hunting the most dangerous game in the world for 20 years,

You learn to be stealthy. There's nothing worse than being caught in the act when you're trying to kill someone. Making my way through the last section of forest, I considered the gunshot scars and old knife wounds which decorated my skin. Wincing, I couldn't help but remember the worst of them. A 22mm meter to my side, which had ping ponged around my thoracic cavity, doing a multitude of damages. I tried my best not to think about how much longer I would have to do this for, how many

more people I would have to kill before I could finally rest, before I could finally retire, and be free of this madness. But the people I work for will never allow that while I'm still healthy, and while I'm still in my prime, I would need a lot of money to escape permanently and to disappear completely from their grasp. The lights up ahead broke me from my bad thoughts as I emerged from the forest and saw that the Target's house was very close now.

Most times a man like this would own a dog, something big and terrifying to scare away intruders. A lot of my victims seemed to sense death coming for them long before it arrived, and they prepared for this by purchasing assault rifles and claymores, pistols and grenades.

pit bulls, and Doberman Pinchers. But my client had insisted this man was peaceful and innocent. He was an elderly gentleman who lived alone. The anonymous voice on the phone had told me. My client insisted on sending the money by wire and never meeting face to face. He was paying an exorbitant charge for the privilege of anonymity. The victim didn't have any family. He would be asleep in his bed by the time I arrived.

and I would be in and out in ten minutes or less. Easy money. That was the client's promise, and my own research had confirmed all of this as well. After tailing the man for a week, I was confident he was at home, in his small house, sleeping quietly in his bed at this hour of the night.

I was about to pull out my lock-pick kit when I decided to try the doorknob instead. amazingly, it turned in my hand, letting out a small, rusty squeak. The old bastard was just as trusting as they'd said. Stepping inside the little house, I took my pistol from its holster and checked that the safety was off. There was one in the chamber ready to fire at all times, and today was no exception. Something felt off, though. My instincts were telling me to run for reasons I couldn't understand.

The house was too quiet, too still. I realized there was no noise coming from the refrigerator in the kitchen, as if it had been unplugged. But why would someone unplug their fridge? The entire house was deathly silent. Usually there would be a computer humming, a ceiling fan spinning, or a furnace blowing air through the vents. But this place was quiet as a catacomb.

I told myself I was being foolish. The old man was probably an eccentric who took out his fuses overnight. Or maybe his power had been shut off by the city for non-payment. Whatever the case was, I had a job to do. Pressing forward, I went through the stale-smelling kitchen, past a dark entrance to the rundown living room on my right. A stained couch and a ragged recliner could be seen inside, positioned in front of a television with bent rabbit ears on top. Slowly pushing open the bedroom door, I stepped inside.

There was a shape on the bed which looked like a man, but wasn't. My keen eyes immediately saw that the normal rise and fall of the chest was absent. The man's skin was pale and plastic-looking. It was a dummy, I realized too late. The blank white face of it was expressionless and stared up at the ceiling as I gasped, and my heart skipped a beat in my chest. I'd been tricked. This was a trap. A hissing sound began to come from all around me,

and I noticed a mist was coming through the vents now, smelling of chemicals. My head began to spin as I crumpled to the floor, and the last thing I remembered was feeling as if the entire house were moving, like it had been picked up and put it. placed on a tractor trailer and was being driven towards the highway, became a veil of total darkness for a while. A heavy, black curtain made of velvet, which rested over my eyes and told me to sleep. I woke up on a beach, confused and nauseated, my head spinning viciously, causing me to vomit into the sand beside me. After a while, I managed to focus on a single spot in the distance long enough to get my vision.

to settle, and eventually stood to my feet with great effort. My eyes took in the surroundings with a sense of surreal fascination. Palm trees, tropical birds, surf and sand with jagged rocky shards breaking through the white caps. This had to be a dream. The sun was blazing in the sky overhead, and the ocean was glaring at me. A headache was booming in my skull like an overinflated balloon about to burn. First. Sand was clinging to my skin everywhere, and I looked at it numbly.

How the hell did I get here? But then I remembered the dummy in the bed and the gas coming from the vents. The feeling of being driven towards the highway, like a pig in the back of a truck, headed for the slaughterhouse. I'd been abducted, but for what purpose? I realized my feet were hurting terribly. Worse than any pain I'd ever felt before in my life. The sand beneath me wasn't sand at all, but some sort of crushed glass. My body had been numb from whatever drugs they'd fed me,

and I hadn't noticed the stabbing pain in my souls until now. Suddenly I felt the agony of it digging and cutting my skin, and saw my feet were bleeding and glittering with jagged pieces of it wedged into my flesh. A sharp intake of air hissed out between my lips involuntarily. It was the closest sound I ever made to acknowledging pain. I reached down to brush the glass from my feet. It pierced into my fingers instead, slicing the pads with paper-fine cuts. What the hell is this place?

I asked no one in particular, as I began to stumble from the beach towards the trees, off balance from whatever I'd been gassed with. As if to answer my question, an enormous, semi-transparent dome appeared overhead, encompassing the island. And then a face filled the sky, blocking out the clouds and the sun. Like a deity, it was a thousand feet tall, and it took me a few moments to take it all in. It was a man with gray hair and a friendly smile. He said kindly,

My apologies for taking you all from your busy schedules. but I'm quite sure you will be glad I did once I explain. It is my great pleasure to inform you all that you have been chosen for a very special event. Consider it the World Cup of Professional Killing, at least game. He paused for a few seconds as if he made a joke and were waiting for me to laugh.

But then he scowled and continued. Each of you have been selected because of your particular skill set. That skill set being murder. There are 20 of you on the island. I have looked into your backgrounds extensively, and I understand you are the best of the best of what you do, killing people. This made me pause,

as I realized suddenly that I was not alone. This psychopath kidnapped a bunch of people and dropped us all on a private island. I looked around, trying to spot another person, but could see no one. It occurred to me suddenly that if I did spot someone, they might not be friendly. Twenty murderers were placed on this island, after all.

Not ordinary people. The man had just said it himself. I felt very exposed on the beach and began to run towards cover. There was a forest further inland, and I sprinted towards it, wincing at the pain in my feet with each step, driving the broken glass in further and further. There was a sound of running water up ahead. and I moved in that direction, thinking I could use the water to rinse out the glass in my feet. Jackson Triggs, the man announced overhead, continuing his speech, and his face disappeared,

showing another man's profile picture. Navy SEAL Squad 6 unit commander, trained sniper and close quarters combat expert, survivalist and an iron man competitor during his off time. My money is on you, Mr. Triggs, but some others are betting against the men. favorite. So be careful. You never know when one of your rivals might receive a gift from one of their benefactors. You got to be kidding me. I thought to myself, what the hell is this now? The fucking hunger games? Benefactors? Gifts? Rivals? Was Jennifer Lawrence going to pop out of the trees and shoot me with a bow and arrow? The image in the sky changed again to reveal a woman

with a stern, determined look on her face. She was dressed in a military uniform that I recognized as belonging to the green berets. The man's voice began describing her training and battle history in terrifying detail, and I realized I was in serious trouble. These people were no joke. One by one he described my fellow combatants until reaching my name at the end. He described me with a few cursory sentences. making me feel small compared to my competition.

It struck me that I was the underdog, not the favorite. There is only one man in the sky continued. The last person alive gets to leave. They will also receive a handsome reward for their efforts. Enough money so that you will never have to work again in your life. $100 million. My legs froze mid-stride. I had been walking deeper into the jungle when I heard those words and stopped.

Was he serious? A hundred million dollars? People in my line of work kill for far less than that, the man's voice said from all around, like thunder booming in the sky. The perimeters of my playground will begin to shrink in exactly one hour. By how much you'll have to wait and see. The point is, you better not find yourself on the wrong side.

of the playground fence, but you'll be punished quite severely. That is to say, you'll be killed by drones with sidewinder missiles. Tata! Have fun, children. And don't be tardy. I started running. Despite the fact that my shoes had been taken, and I was walking on what felt like shards of broken glass, I had to move quickly.

Every time I stepped on a branch or a rock, I felt a lightning bolt of pain shoot up through the bottom of my feet. A few times I tried to stop in order to dig the glass out, but was unable to alleviate the pain, and only injured myself further. Finally, I heard the sound of running water very close from up ahead, and realized it was a stream. Approaching it carefully, I sat on a rock at the edge and washed my feet, arms, and legs, which were all covered with the glass sand mixture. The water turned pink, and then red with my blood, as I saw a million tiny cuts had been left behind.

behind by the jagged shards, the wound edges flapping in the water like fish gills as they were rinsed clean. A small box with a red ribbon tied around it entered my field of vision. It was floating lazily down the stream toward me, bobbing up and down as it bounced against rocks and tumbled down each little waterfall it came across. When it got in front of me, I reached down and picked it up. There was a tag hanging from the top of it which read, Best Wishes, Your Benefactor. I unwrapped the ribbon which was tied around the box and stuffed it into my pocket to avoid leaving any tracks. When I lifted the lid to look inside, I saw there were a few items. A knife and a leather sheath, a canteen, a roll of gauze, and a pair of running shoes, 13 wide.

Exactly my size. Something caught my attention up on a tree to my left as I wrapped the gauze around the wounds on my soles and put the shoes on my aching feet. I realized it was a woodpecker. But this wasn't any ordinary woodpecker. It wasn't pecking any wood, for one thing. Instead, it was just watching me carefully, keeping its head perfectly still.

Its one eye was trained on me, and it looked slightly hollow and glassy, like a camera. A whirring sound came from its neck as it craned its head to observe me. They were watching me from all around. Every angle was covered, like a reality TV show. And I suddenly realized that was exactly what this was.

I was a contestant in a very expensive private game show run by the world's richest psychopaths. And I got the feeling this benefactor of mine wasn't just helping me out of the kindness of his heart. I recalled what the man in the sky had said. The words and their meaning delayed due to the adrenaline rush of everything happening. My money is on you, Mr. Triggs, but some others are betting against the favorite, so be careful.

It dawned on me that considering the huge amount of prize money, the game we were involved in, was likely a betting sport for a caddry of the world's wealthiest elites. I couldn't prove it, of course, but it made sense. Being involved with the sort of people I work with, I'd heard rumors of such events, but had always dismissed them as paranoid fantasies. Now I knew it was true. There really was a world championship of assassination, and I was the underdog in the newest class of 20 contestants.

With that thought in mind, I put on the shoes, filled up the canteen with water, strapped the knife to my belt, and started moving. Keeping my head low, I crossed the narrow creek bed and made my way deeper into the unknown forest. Preparing myself mentally for the fight of my life. Fan of the soccer,

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No. The Devil wears Prada too. He's the movie event 20 years in the making. Honestly, can't with the secrets anymore, so I think we just, we should tell her. Will you two please spit it out already? This Friday be the first to experience it only in theaters. In light of the recent scandal, I'm here to restore your credibility.

Oh, because we're a team now? That's a nice story. The Devil Wares Prada 2 in Theaters Friday. The host of this twisted reality show had told us that the boundaries of the battlefield would shrink every hour, and that anyone caught outside of them would be killed by drones. that prompted me to move quickly, continuing on a line straight towards the heart of the island. But I guessed that everyone else would be doing the same thing.

It was our only chance at survival, after all. Like a real-life game of Fortnite, we had to stay within the bubble or weed get popped. I heard a whisper coming from nearby and pulled out my knife, getting ready to thrust it into someone's jugular if necessary. Whoa! Where'd you get that nasty-looking blade? Hey, I surrender, cowboy. You got me beat.

A scrawny guy with a short, scruffy beard hopped down from a nearby tree branch where he'd been hiding. His clothing was covered with branches, mud, and leaves, and he'd been invisible to my eyes, even after I'd heard him speak. I'd never seen anyone with such amazing camouflage abilities. He came forward to shake my hand, and I backed away slightly, turning my body in a defensive posture. My fist was gripping the knife very tightly, and he looked down at it. His eyes nervous for the first time. Sorry. He said, raising his hands in the air as if I were pointing a gun at him.

I didn't mean to startle you. It's just... He looked around nervously. This is crazy, right? I mean, this dude kidnaps us and expects us and expects us to kill each other because he says so? Fucking rich people, man. Despite his unassuming nature, I was still. suspicious.

A hundred million dollars has a lot of money, I said. That kind of money makes people do some stupid shit, like killing each other. Trust me, I've seen it done for a lot less. He raised one eyebrow, then smirked. Oh shit, you're the contract killer, aren't you? I saw your face up there, but, man, when there's 20 of the baddest motherfuckers on the planet up there, you kind of get lost in the mix. No offense.

I'm sure you've seen plenty of action. How many bodies have you buried? I didn't say anything. Instead, I continued walking towards the center of the island, leaving him behind. There was no time for talking. And if he wasn't going to make a move, neither was I. What? Ain't you going to kill me?

Why bother? Somebody else will do it. He laughed, and I heard the faint sound of clothing as it rustled and shifted. and I knew he was reaching for something. Yeah, you're probably right about that. A bunch of stone cold killers on this island. We're all going to get our sooner or later. Except for one of us, that is.

I spun with a knife blade in my hand, pinched between my thumb and four fingers. As he squinted one eye shut and began to squeeze the trigger of the gun he was holding, I was already letting go of the knife, sending it sailing through the air. It landed hilt deep in his eye socket with a weapon. wet thunk sound. The point of the knife blade disappeared into his skull, as his left eye opened wider in surprise for a brief second, and then he fell limply to the ground, not even getting one shot off. Poor bastard. Nobody wants to be the first one voted out in a reality show. It's humiliating. I cleaned off the knife blade and wandered over to the body, bending over to pick up the gun.

A compact Glock 19 with a 33-round magazine. Will you? ...to voice in the sky. And I realized it was the host of this twisted game. And what a doozy it was! Congratulations to our underdog. I wasn't expecting that. I'll be honest.

But you've got a long way to go. 19 of you remain in the game. Good luck. It didn't really hit me for a few more minutes how close I'd just been to dying. If my knife hadn't hit its mark, or if I'd been a little slower, I would have wound up with a bullet through my skull. I wasn't just dealing with unsuspecting victims anymore. Now I was competing with the best of the best. Trained soldiers, commandos, and assassins more deadly than anything the world has ever seen before.

After searching the body and finding nothing else of consequence, I moved on. Heading deeper into the forest, I saw something up ahead that looked like a building in the distance. distance. Rain clouds were moving in, and thunder and lightning could be heard with it, and I decided to seek shelter there, but others would be heading that way as well. I had a funny feeling about that. That was something I would just have to deal with. Time is up, everyone! The host of the deadliest game called out from all around. I looked up to see his face in the sky, through the tree branches where dead-eyed bird sat watching. Better get to where you're going, Quickly, the boundaries are shrieked.

A few drops began to splatter and fall on my arms, and I felt them burning where they struck my skin. Each raindrop hissed like acid, and I watched with horror as my flesh began to sizz. Acid rain. Classic. I ran even faster, getting closer to the building in the distance, and seeing that it was a massive tower which rose high up into the sky. At its center was a pillar that looked to contain further floors of a skyscraper, the likes of which I had never seen before. It was like a mountain constructed of steel and glass.

It dominated the skyline as I emerged into the wide clearing from the forest. My head craned up to take in the impossible height of the structure, built out here on this island in the middle of nowhere, but looking like it belonged in a metropolis like New York or Chicago. There was suddenly a loud noise like machine gun firing the distance from more than one source, at least two or three, if not more. And then a loud, piercing boom silenced them one by one

as a sniper with a bolt-action rifle took them out. It sounded like he was a very good shot, whoever he was. 18, 17, 16. Bravo, sir, bravo, called the baritone voice from the sky with giddy enthusiasm. Acid rain was now pouring down from above as I ran out from the forest. I stayed close to the trees which grew outside of its boundaries.

My path was serpentine, and I kept my head low, leaving myself exposed as little as possible as the tower got closer. But it was still so far away. I hadn't realized how massive the building was at first, and like a mountain in the distance, it was taking a long while to get to it. I looked back to see that coming from behind was the wall of a massive blue-tinged dome, shrinking and growing smaller by the second.

If I ended up on the other side of that wall, drones from the sky would shoot me dead in an instant. Not only that, but I had other matters to worry about too. Every second I remained exposed was another opportunity for that sniper to catch me with a bullet and for the acid rain to melt my flesh. I saw my skin was drooping and sagging in places, like melted candle wax,

and guessed that my face, looked the same. I would be a hideous, disgusting creature by the time I escaped the island at this rate, assuming I ever actually managed to escape. A sound like a bee zipping past my ear made me jump as I thought blood trickled down my cheek a moment later. Fuck! The sniper! He had me in his sights. I had no choice but to dive quickly behind a large patch of foliage. Once there, I hunkered down behind a tree and waited, watching as my clothes sizzled and the acid rain scorched my flesh. Another bullet impacted the tree, and the sound of a gunshot in the distance could be heard a moment later. Judging by the brief delay, it meant the shooter wasn't far away.

I could make a run for it, but it would be risky. But then I realized I didn't need to make a run for it. All I had to do was wait. The dome was getting smaller by the second, and it looked like the tower was at its center, which meant everyone would be going that direction. And the sniper would have to head that way as well. It was only a matter of time. I waited and listened as shots rang out, and one by one my competition fell dead from the sniper's bullets. He had found a good spot, whoever he was. He liked to camp, and he wasn't moving. The voice of the sadistic host called out each death like a powerball number. Finally, the dome was so close I could hear the buzzing electric sound of it,

narrowing the gap inch by inch. On the other side, I saw a man running towards me, until he was vaporized in an instant, blown to pieces by a missile which flew down from the sky above. Eleven! That was about as far as I was willing to push it. I got up and began to run, hearing the static hiss of the translucent blue dome, closing in behind me as I bolted through the clearing.

The sniper had given up his spot as well, I realized, and saw he was now running the same direction as I was, about a hundred yards away from me. The two of us were running for our lives, stealing nervous glances at each other occasionally, as if sizing each other up. But there was no time to stop and kill one another as the blue dome was closing in fast. It was at my heels as I ran at full tilt, sprinting through the pain of a stitch in my side as it grew into a terrible cramp in my belly that begged me to stop. I gritted my teeth and stared at my feet as I ran,

begging them to continue, knowing what would happen if I let up my pace for even an instant. The Blue Dome's hiss of static could be heard so close now it was like a mosquito buzzing in my ear, tickling the back of my neck as it got ready to overtake me. It felt unpleasant and wrong when the blue holographic projection hit my skin, as if a low voltage of electricity were being carried through it. Up ahead, I saw we were headed for a steep drop-off. Not quite a cliff, but not quite a ditch. It appeared we would be falling more than 10 or 15 feet towards a rocky embankment if we didn't slow down, and neither one of us was about to slow down.

We both ran off the ledge at full speed, just as the dome stopped closing in. The blue wall of light froze at the top of the ledge as we tumbled down the slope, pinwheeling and crashing into boulders and rocks. Hitting my head, I felt a lightning bolt of pain go through my skull, before the entire world went black and fell away completely. I woke up a few minutes later, realizing with horror that I had been knocked unconscious during the fall. But to my great surprise, the sniper was gone. He had not taken the opportunity to kill me, and neither had anyone else.

Maybe he didn't want to kill an unconscious man, just to prove he's better than me, I thought to myself bitterly, to prove he has honor. Ironic, since I wound up in this place due to the fact that I was prepared to kill an old man in his sleep for money. And I'd been doing such things for a long, long time. Perhaps I needed to re-examine my life. Perhaps I really did need to retire, before I lost what was left of my soul. Struggling to my feet, I looked around and saw there was nobody nearby. My destination stood clearly in the distance,

even more obvious now that the Blue Dome had shrunk so significantly. That structure was at the very center of this place. It was obvious. Everyone would be headed there, and whoever was left alive would be the best of the best. I wasn't out of danger yet. Not by a long shot. There's something else here now.

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Saving those children is how we all go home. From Binge All Episodes exclusively on Paramount Plus. The next section of the island was full of small boulders and rocks and a meandering series of streams and creeks which fed outwards from the heart of the island. The impression I got was that the center of the island had once been a great mountain. But it had been hollowed out and blasted with dynamite

until it was only a fraction of its original size. The pieces of granite and rock, which had once comprised the Goliath, were now repurposed to create the monstrous skyscraper which towered over everything. Who could be capable of something like that? It was like something Lex Luthor or Dr. Evil would do, some James Bond villain of unrealistic proportions. Before I could give it any more thought, the sound of approaching footsteps broke me from my observations. I spun around just in time to see a young woman with a spirit.

are running towards me, the sharp end of the thing sticking out in my direction, ready to impale me. She began to howl a war cry of some sort when she saw me notice her, and picked up her pace even more. I saw she had dark mud spread on her face like war paint, streaks beneath her eyes and vertical lines running down her cheeks. Luckily, she was still a good ten yards away, so I drew my pistol and had it pointed at her face a second later. Normally, that would have been that. I would have squeezed the trigger and she would have been dead. But I paused for a split second. I don't really know why.

Maybe it was that asshole sniper. The fact that he hadn't killed me was really sticking in my mind. Did he think he was better than me? Was that it? And that was enough time for the woman to throw her spear at me. The tip of the blade went directly into the barrel of my gun, sending it flying backwards out of my hand and really fucking up my index finger in the process.

since it was stuck in the trigger guard. The pistol leapt from my grip and crashed into a rock nearby, completely and utterly destroyed by the pressure of the impact against the boulder. And then the woman was on me. Her face was full of rage as spit flew from her mouth, and she hissed and punched me, trying to get her legs around my neck into a chokehold of some sort. She quickly managed to do so.

And I heard myself making gurgling, strangled noises as she squeezed tighter and tighter. My head trapped between her thighs. The world started fading to black as I considered my options. You know, I could split it with you. I gasped. 50-50. She didn't look convinced. Maybe it was the fact that my face was turning purple, and she had the upper hand.

I managed to surprise her, and with a quick move, I ended up on top of her. My forearm was down on her neck, and I heard her gasping for air. Although her thighs were still wrapped around my neck in a triangle choke, I realized for the first time that the woman was beautiful. Her black hair flecked with dirt, her face smeared with grime, the slightest hint of a rosy hue playing on her cheeks. Although that might have been due to a lack of oxygen. Fifty million is still a lot of money.

She weezed through her strangled trachea as I continued cutting off her air supply. It is. I managed to cough through my own narrowed windpipe. Does that offer still stand? 50-50. She asked, releasing the pressure on my neck slightly. I let up on her neck and she breathed in a raspy intake of air. Yeah, you got it.

I said, letting go completely. She did the same. Thanks, she said panting. I'm Tia. Tia Teraballo. It took me a few seconds to get my wind back. But when I did, I couldn't help but gush. What can I say?

I'm a fan. Holy shit. Tia the terrible? You're fucking famous. Didn't you kill that Al-Qaeda dude? The general, right? She looked surprised. You know about that?

Damn. Nothing stays classified anymore, does it? If you know about it, I'd hate to think what those pricks are going to do when they find out. Maybe I'm better off dead on this island. Hey, I've got better sources than most foreign intelligence agencies. Trust me,

Good. I'm just better. Cocky, too, I see. Well, you don't become the number one hitman in the world by being meek. It doesn't really translate in this business. I helped her to her feet, and we both looked at each other for a second. Then back up at the tower in the distance. 50-50, right? She said nervously. 50-50. The two of us walked for a while, and eventually the tower began to look a little bit closer. I could make out the details of its entrance and saw there was only one door with arrows pointing to it from every direction, like a department store advertising a big sale. I knew a trap when I saw one.

Hurry up, children. Round two is almost finished. The host called from the sky, his grinning face appearing to leer down at us once again. You better get inside! There had been several loud gunshots which we'd heard as we walked towards the tower. each time ducking down instinctively at the sound of it. But none of the bullets were destined for us. Every one of them found its mark, though, as the countdown of dead bodies continued being announced from above.

Now we had other concerns, as the blue force-field dome surrounding us was shrinking again. The past hour had gone by quickly, and we were once again in danger of not making it into the new safe zone. The two of us ran as fast as we could as the static buzz of electricity grew louder in my ears once again. We're not going to make it, Tia shouted, looking back at the wall of blue closing in.

The tower was still a ways off, and it would definitely be close. Once again, I saw the sniper was keeping pace, running parallel with us towards the entrance of the tower. I knew if he arrived first, he would have the upper hand. We needed to beat him there. We'll make it, I said back, with more confidence than I felt. but we've got company.

Tia looked over and saw the sniper, Triggs, and her eyes widened. Oh shit, you know who that is, right? Yeah, Triggs, the favorite. Come on, gut it out. We need to get there first. Tia threw on the afterburners as her face turned into a grimace of pain. She pumped her legs up and down forcefully as she ran, now outpacing me and making me look like an amateur next to an Olympic sprinter.

You mean like this? She asked. Looking back and gritting a smile at me through her teeth. Shit, I muttered, trying to run faster to catch up. Instead, she just gained more of a lead. Putting my head down again, staring at my feet, I ran until my legs burned and my belly was a cramp from top to bottom. And just as the blue wall of the dome was about to overtake me,

I dove inside through the open door of the tower, surprised at how close it was now. Tia was inside a moment before me. and the sniper had gotten there 30 seconds before her. Once again, I was caught off guard. Triggs was gone. It was just me and Tia staring down a long, dark hallway, which led into a white light.

Ready? I asked, looking at her. I was surprised to see she was scared, and I realized I too was terrified. I don't know. I have a really bad feeling about this. I've worked with Triggs. I can't beat him on my own.

I tried to calm my nerves and speak without sounding as nervous as I felt. Together we can stop him. The two of us. We've got this. 50-50. If you say so, come on. Let's kill this guy and get off this island. When we get back to civilization, I'll buy you a drink.

She nodded, but didn't say anything. And didn't look any more confident as we began to walk down the long tunnel into the light. We emerged from the dark tunnel into a crowded stadium. lights glaring down at us from above. A crowd roared and rose to their feet all around. The sound of their applause deafening. Let's welcome our top three contestants. A voice boomed, and I looked up to see a giant screen mounted to one wall.

The smiling face of the gray-haired host was looking down at us. But there can only be one winner, he shouted. And I know who my money is on. A second later there was the loud crack of a sniper rifle shot going off, and I heard it was past my face. For a moment I was relieved, thinking maybe the famous sniper wasn't as good as he thought. He had missed.

But then I heard the gurgling sounds from behind me, and realized he hadn't missed. He just hadn't been aiming for me first. He was aiming for Tia. I spun around to see her clutching her throat. A fountain of blood was spurting from a hole in her neck. Her face turned pale as she gagged and coughed, then reached out to take my hand in her own blood-stained grip.

But then hers slipped away, and she fell to the floor, lifeless and dead. And I looked up to see the glint of a sniper scope, reflecting the light, trained on me and ready to fire. As soon as I saw that reflection bouncing off the lens of the rifle's scope, I dropped to the ground and lay prone on my belly. I did it without thinking. The death of my only friend in this game was more than enough proof of what would happen if I delayed. My instincts saved my life, and not for the first time, as the bullet lived over my head a millisecond after dropping down.

I actually felt it whistled through my hair, like a very narrow breeze. Two contestants left. Wow! That was almost the finest double kill we've ever seen. Give it up for our finalists, ladies and gentlemen. The crowd erupted in applause as I lay at a while. on the floor, terrified out of my mind. Blood was spreading from Tia's head and was touching my hand and creeping towards my face. That decided it for me. I couldn't stay there any longer. I needed to move. It's hopeless, a voice in my mind said. The world's most deadly sniper with a bolt-action rifle in his hands against an assassin with a knife and a canteen. Not only that,

but losing Tia had affected me more than I thought possible. I had imagined us leaving this place. together as winners, sailing off on a private yacht and retiring from homicide together. I had pictured us on a beach, drinking mimosa's and laughing, reminiscing about the old days, and that time we'd been caught on that island and almost died. But now it was just me again. And I was alone, just like I had always been, and just like I would always be. A hundred million dollars will buy you a lot of friends, another voice in my mind. mind said, the counterpoint of the previous one. A hundred million dollars will buy you all the friends in the world. But they won't be real friends. You know that, said the twin voice,

the sensible, no-nonsense one. So, what do we do? A third voice asked, and I realized I was either completely losing my mind, or I was as sharp as I'd ever been. I decided to believe it was the latter. We do what we've always done. All three voices. voices said in unison, we kill or we get killed. This whole time I had been instinctively moving towards the spot where I had seen the reflection of Triggs's rifle scope. He had beat us to the tower and he had staked out a prime spot for camping once again. But every soldier has a weakness. And my real talent, I've come to realize over the years, is in finding those weaknesses and exploiting them. Triggs's weakness was that he knew he was the best.

Even the host had said it on numerous occasions. My money is on you, Mr. Triggs, he'd announced from the beginning. Triggs knew he was the best, and he believed it so strongly that he had stopped thinking anyone else could beat him. When he'd left me unconscious at the base of the cliff where we had fallen, it wasn't because he was a good sport. It was because he had such little respect for my abilities. He thought I was beneath him. He wanted to kill me when I was standing up, when I was fighting. back. Not because that was the right thing to do, but because he wanted to showboat. Now, with $100 million on the line, he thought so little of me that even after killing my friend and taking a

shot at me, he'd stayed in the same spot, believing me incapable of finding him, thinking I wouldn't see the reflection of his rifle scope. Tricks got cocky and stayed right where he was, believing himself invincible. I actually felt a little guilty for the guy as I crept up on him, silent as a wolf stalking a rabbit in the forest. I slipped the knife under his chin just as he gasped and began to turn. But it was too late. Blood spurreded and sprayed, staining his well-oiled rifle red. They don't call me the best assassin in the world for nothing.

And Triggs had vastly underestimated me. We have a new champion! The host announced loudly, but there was no applause, only shocked silence. And then a few loud boos. You really caught them off guard out there. The host said from behind his desk, we were up in his office on the very top floor of the tower, after an extremely long and unpleasant elevator ride,

during which my ears had popped so violently, I had almost thrown up. I was still chewing the stick of gum the guards had offered me to help alleviate the pressure. It was the only thing that had gotten me through it. They weren't expecting the underdog to win it all. That's for sure. He stood up and looked out the window, resting his hands on the sill. I took in his office, the wall stark white and gleaming.

The view was incredible. I had to give him that. It looked out over the entire island, now missing the blue dome which I had become so accustomed to. Past the jungle and beaches, I could see water and a giant yacht which looked to be heading towards a dock. I knew you were going to win from the beginning, though. That's why I put my money on you. This caught me off guard. I thought you were betting on Triggs.

You said so yourself. He turned to look at me and smiled. Triggs was getting far. too cocky. He thought he was untouchable. And that's when someone like you always comes to knock the night from his horse. So, you? Yes. I'm the one who gave you the knife and the bandages, the canteen and the shoes. I'm your benefactor. Why not give me a gun and some body armor? Well, I knew you'd do best if you were given a challenge. If you were underestimated, I've been watching you for a long time after all.

I know you better than you know yourself by this point. That really pissed me off. And suddenly I wanted to prove him wrong. I stood up and began to race towards him, intent on strangling the bastard to death with my bare hands, just to prove he didn't know me as well as he thought he did. But halfway there, my legs gave out, and I collapsed, my eyelids growing heavy at my face feeling numb.

How's that gum tasting, champ? It's a little concoction I like to call spearmint sedative. Pops the ears on the elevator ride and sends you straight to sleep. Just as your urge to kill begins to rise again. Ta-ta! See you next year. Back in my apartment, in my bed. A pounding headache filling the space between my ears with pressure and pain. A hundred million dollars sat inside my bank account.

untraceable. There was no reason for me to ever need to kill again now. I was set for the rest of my life. I could live comfortably and never have to take another contract. But I wasn't going to get off that easily. A letter was sitting on my coffee table, which I found right after seeing my bank account balance. I opened it up and read the handwritten note inside,

which promptly burst into flames after I had finished reading it, Like a letter from the devil. The deadliest game will resume next year at the same date and time. Be prepared to defend your title, as you will be expected to compete once again. Congratulations, new champion. See you next year. Lazzang sur-gillet,

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