The Devil’s Plaything

Chapter 11

Reese

I was supposed to leave on the second night of the hunt, but five nights have already passed and I’m still here. I spent the first three nights looking for a way out, but there isn’t one. The entire perimeter is enclosed by electrified fences. It’s like a damn hunting reserve where the prey has no chance of escaping—all they can do is hide, and that’s what I’ve been doing until today. Well, I’ve also explored quite a bit. The cabins are all in the central part of the property, several kilometers apart from one another; I guess that’s where all the girls like me are staying. In the western part, there’s another type of building—larger and more luxurious. I would have liked to get closer to see if that’s where the masked men are staying, but there were hooded guards patrolling the area. What’s clear to me is that those masked men are the ones in charge, and the others—the soldiers or guards holding us here—aren’t.

After spending several nights hidden among the trees, watching girls flee through the woods while those bastards chase them, the word “hunt” has taken on its full meaning for me. Those masked men have created a sort of cat-and-mouse game, a human hunt in which the prey are young women, and when they find them, instead of killing them, they beat and r**e them.

Luckily, I’ve managed to stay hidden, but to do so, I’m giving up the chance to find Rose, so after spending the whole day thinking about it, I’ve decided to take the risk and go look for her. If this is where Rose came every six months, I figure these hunts last a week. That’s how long it took her to return home, so I only have two nights left to find her. Time is running out, though I don’t know what will happen next. Will they set me free, or will they hurt me? I want to believe the first option is the right one, though it’s also true that Rose always came home—until she stopped.

Maybe she was being threatened by these deranged people. Maybe they forced her to take part in these macabre games and she had to let herself get caught. Maybe the last time she was here she broke the rules and these bastards killed her. I don’t know. Actually, I’m not sure of anything, but at least I have to try to find her before I face whatever they want to do to me.

I wait until it’s exactly midnight before holding my bracelet up to the screen; the door opens, and, just like every night, I make sure to leave it ajar. I need a place to come back to in the morning—the last thing I want is to have to keep running after sunrise. Before I start walking down the steps, I make sure I have a bottle of water and several ropes in my coat pockets—ropes I made myself from fabric and rags I found in the cabin; they come in handy for holding onto things high up in the trees. I don’t need too much water. I know where there’s a stream where I can get more.

I head into the forest with all my senses on high alert. Today I’ll try to go back to the area where the large buildings are. If I were a deranged r****t holding someone against their will, I’d keep them close by—and that’s where the masked men are.

I spend a couple of hours walking to the stream; I’m forced to climb a couple of trees when I hear footsteps, and, just like every night, I see them—masked and chasing girls. I don’t intervene. It’s possible that when I get out of here, I’ll feel guilty for witnessing all this and doing nothing, but right now I need to focus on my own survival and on finding Rose.

As soon as I reach the stream, I fill my water bottle and cool off a bit before going around it to continue walking westward. I hide among the leafy trees and bushes until I reach a more open area. I recognize the place from the last time I was here. I hear footsteps and try not to make a sound. It doesn’t take long before I see the shadow of a hooded figure, pacing back and forth, alert to any movement, as if he were making a patrol round. I stay very still and wait for him to walk away before cautiously emerging from my hiding spot. I move through the trees until I catch sight of a kind of very tall wooden fence. I don’t get close; I keep moving parallel to it for several more meters, and then I see several more hooded figures. They’re talking among themselves, and one seems to be smoking. I hide again and strain my ears.

“I can’t wait to get out of here,” says one.

“Just a couple more nights and we can leave. I like the Hunts, but those bastards get all the fun while we do the hard work,” adds the one who’s smoking.

I hear them chuckle quietly before a third hooded figure speaks up.

“When you’re an eccentric millionaire like them, you’ll be able to have that kind of fun. Until then, it’s your turn to spend the night guarding the entrance.”

More laughter can be heard, and they begin to walk away—all except one, who is walking toward me. I hide behind a tree trunk and hold my breath just as he passes by me. Luckily, he doesn’t see me, and shortly afterward he disappears into the woods. I try to get closer to the fence. I need to get to the other side, but I don’t know how. “Guarding the entrance.” That’s what one of the hooded men said—which means he can’t be far away.

It takes me over half an hour to find a metal gate guarded by a couple of hooded men; I think one of them is the one who was smoking a little while ago. If I can get close enough, I’m sure I could climb over the fence, but with those guys there, I can’t even peek over it. I spend quite a while longer watching them and devising a distraction plan. I’m so absorbed in my task that I don’t realize someone is approaching until I hear heavy breathing right behind me.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” he exclaims.

I spin around in a hurry. It’s a hooded figure. From the voice, I’d swear it’s the same one who went into the woods a little while ago. He stares at me from just a couple of meters away. It’s too late to hide, and I can’t run away either.

“Uh… I’m lost,” I reply hesitantly.

It’s a lousy excuse I’ve used before, but it’s not like I have a more believable one.

“Get out of here. This area is off-limits to prey.”

“Prey.” It’s not the first time the hooded figures have called me that. That’s what we are in this place—just pieces of meat that a few people are trying to hunt. I nod and walk away slowly under his watchful gaze. I’m going to come back. If the masked men live on the other side of the fence, they’ll have to return at dawn. Maybe I’ll be able to sneak in then.

I walk briskly toward the stream. I’ve already gotten used to long nighttime walks and running through the trees. I’m also picking up climbing skills from all the times I climb trees to hide, and that’s exactly what I do. Near the stream, I find a fairly tall, leafy tree. I tie myself to the branches with a rope and wait for the hours to pass. Time drags on, so much so that I even doze off a few times out of sheer boredom. I’m about to consider climbing down to get more water when I hear a scream, followed by the sound of footsteps running through the woods. Immediately, I spot the girl.

“Here we go again,” I mutter to myself.

I watch as she spins around in circles, unsure which way to go. I roll my eyes. Is she really going to waste time looking for a path instead of just running away? More footsteps are approaching. I’m sure she’s being chased by a masked man, and if she doesn’t get out of here right now, he’ll catch her. The girl seems to make the decision to take a trail. “The easiest path isn’t always the right one.” That’s what my father always used to say. If she doesn’t want to be tracked down, she’s going to have to venture into denser, more overgrown areas—the more impassable they are, the less likely she is to be found.

Just as I expected, the masked man doesn’t take long to appear. Even from above, I can tell he’s very tall and burly. I can’t help but think of the British man from the first night. Could it be him? My doubts are dispelled when the masked man starts to speak.

“You’re not going to escape me. I’ll chase you to the ends of the earth.” His accent isn’t American, but it isn’t British either. I can’t place him.

The girl starts running toward the trail, but she doesn’t get very far. She’s immediately intercepted by the masked man, even though he seems to be limping slightly as he walks. He grabs her by the back of the neck and slaps her before dragging her toward the water.

“No, please,” she whimpers.

The hooded man tugs at the sleeve of her jacket and grabs her wrist violently.

“Yellow—just the way I like them,” he says when he sees her bracelet.

I untie the rope and shift my position on the branch to climb down as quickly as possible. I shouldn’t get involved, but I can’t just stand by and watch him hit her right in front of me without doing anything. They struggle for a few seconds, and the masked man slaps her across the face again, then punches her in the stomach. I’m about to start climbing down to try to help her when I see two other guys arrive—they’re hooded. I stop; maybe they can stop him. They’re not going to let him hurt the girl, are they? The masked man freezes, still holding her by the back of the neck, and turns toward them.

“Everything okay?” one of them asks.

“There’s nothing to see here, guys. We’re just having some fun.”

One of them says something in a language I don’t recognize, and the masked man hits the girl again. The newcomers take a few steps back.

“Help! Stop…” Before she can finish her sentence, she takes another blow, right in the pit of her stomach.

The masked man lets out a deep laugh and yanks off her balaclava. She’s a young girl—I don’t think she’s more than twenty—blonde and very pretty.

“They’re not going to help you, sweetheart.” He grabs her chin firmly and brings his face close to hers. “They’ll wait their turn to f**k you.”

What?! The hooded ones too?! I consider jumping down, but if they catch me… Damn it, I’ll suffer the same fate as that poor girl! I can’t defend myself against three men. I clench my fists and watch, frozen in place, as the masked man orders the two hooded men to hold her arms down. He pulls down her pants himself, dodging her kicks. I cover my ears so I don’t have to hear her screams as they push her face-down onto the ground. The masked man grabs her by the hair and drags her to the edge of the stream. The girl’s screams die down the moment that son of a b***h submerges her head in the water. He positions himself on top of her and, after a few seconds, begins to r**e her. The other two hold her by the arms.

The girl gasps for air every time the bastard lets her lift her head out of the water, but he immediately pushes her back down and continues thrusting behind her. When he’s finished, he says something in that strange language to one of the hooded men, and the man takes his place. They spend over an hour r****g the poor girl. When they finally let her pull away from the water, she barely has the strength to move and is breathing heavily.

“Please. End the Hunt. End the…” she whispers in a faint voice as the three men adjust their clothes.

The masked man returns to her side and gives her a light kick on her bare thigh with the tip of his boot.

“You’ve been a good little slut. Want to leave?” The girl nods, terrified. “Sorry, sweetheart, that’s not going to happen.” He looks back at one of the hooded men. “Take her away—we’re keeping her.”

The two men grab her tightly and carry her off, since she’s barely able to move. The masked man looks from side to side, and after making sure no one is around, he walks off after them whistling, as if he hadn’t just brutally beaten and r***d a poor girl.

As soon as I’m sure they’re gone, I climb down from the tree and run as fast as I can. I don’t stop until I reach the cabin. I close the door and drag the sofa against it to barricade it; only then do I collapse to the floor and start crying. “I have to get out of this damn place before I end up in that girl’s place.”