Chapter 2- The Dinner

2352 Words
"Ah, good, you're awake. We'll be arriving soon." Mario recognized the sound of the voice speaking to him, but he couldn't remember why he recognized it. He frantically looked around, his chest heaving in panic. When he saw Richard, his memory started to return. He remembered the invitation and the games he was specifically selected for. Which raised a good question in his mind. One he couldn't believe he didn't ask sooner. "Why am I here? Why me?" Richard looked at him with an almost sinister grin. "You posses the qualities we're looking for in our competitors." "What qualities?" Mario snapped, growing impatient. "I'm hardly the one to ask. But don't worry, all your questions will be answered once we arrive at the mansion," Richard replied. Mario looked out the window and noticed the steep, winding road ahead, lined with tall pines. He had no idea how long he had been out, but surely it wasn't long enough to make it from Atlanta all the way to Maine, was it? "Where are we?" Mario finally asked. "We're in the beautiful Jonesport, Maine. The small, port town overlooking the rocky shores of the Atlantic," Richard answered, just as the Winthrop Manor came into view. Mario's jaw dropped. He had never seen anything more elegant and beautiful in all his life. At least, not with his own eyes. And he had certainly never been inside of a place like this before. As the car moved closer, Mario noticed the immaculate landscaping, the beautiful floor to ceiling windows that lined the front of the mansion and the tall marble pillars. A man dressed similarly to Richard approached just as the car come to a stop at the mansion's entrance-way and opened Mario's door.  When Mario stepped out of the car, he noticed the man's pale skin and dark eyes, similar to Richard's. Perhaps they were related? "Welcome," the man said in a rather chilling voice. Mario gave him a strange look before looking up at the mansion, which now stood just in front of him. It was even more beautiful up close. Mario looked around when several other cars that looked exactly like the one he arrived in began to pull up to the manor's entrance. Everyone who stepped out of the other cars seemed just as confused as Mario did about why they were there, judging by the looks on their faces. "Now this is how you spend a luxury vacation!" a young, attractive Asian man said, exiting the vehicle. "Oh my God! You're Jackson Lee! I follow you on Instagram!" a girl said, running over from her car to his. Jackson gave the girl a once over and smirked. "So you're a fan?" "A fan? What are you, some kind of actor?" A very tall, attractive man said, joining the others at the entrance. Mario didn't know his name, but he seemed familiar. Judging by his striking good looks, he was probably an actor himself. "Wow! Damon DeCosto!" the same girl gushed. "I can't believe I'm here with freaking Damon DeCosto and Jackson Lee!" Mario had no idea who either of those people were, but he had been locked away from society for the past six years and had missed a lot. While he had heard of Instagram, he didn't know exactly what it was or why people were so crazy about it. While the others congregated and began talking among themselves, Mario remained quiet and reserved. He wasn't here to make friends or meet celebrities. He was here to win money and nothing more. The front door of the manor slowly crept open, revealing an very aged man in an old suit. His left eye was cloudy, as if he was blind, but the other was clear. He had a sinister smile, very similar to Richard's. Mario was sure all these people were from the same family. Their pale skin and empty eyes were too similar for there to have been no association. "Welcome to the Winthrop Manor. I am your host, Winston. You were each escorted here by your own personal butler, so I hoped you've had the time to get well acquainted. We've prepared an exquisite feast for you tonight where you'll meet our game master, Dr. Vincent, who will explain to you the rules of the games." "Who picked us?" Jackson asked, looking around at the the others. "There doesn't seem to be any obvious connection." "No, not an obvious one, but a connection nonetheless. Please, save any further questions for Dr. Vincent," Winston replied. "When your name is called, please step forward." "Damon DeCosto." The tall, handsome man smiled smugly and started up the steps to the front door. He was handed a white vest which had a black number on it; Damon's being the number one. After he put it on, he was led inside by a pale older lady in a solid black dress with a collar that nearly reached her earlobes. Mario couldn't figure out why everyone here was dressed in such dated clothing. It probably had something to do with the games. Maybe a theme or something. "Brandi Benson." A tall, blonde woman, probably around Mario's age, walked up the steps with a certain swagger to her walk. She was obviously rich, judging by her clothing and the designer handbag she clutched in her right hand. She reminded Mario of Soren, and because of that, he decided he wouldn't trust her. No one with money could be trusted, it seemed. "Jackson Lee." The handsome Asian man made his way to the door, smiling like he'd won some sort of prize. His black hair swooped in front of his face, hanging in his eyes and causing him to toss it back every few seconds. Mario found it rather annoying. He took the vest with the number three and followed the old lady inside the mansion. "Carmen Santos." Mario furrowed his brows when he saw player four come up to take her vest. She looked so young, no more than twenty or so. Her short, dark-brown hair was kind of a mess and her large, black framed glasses made her like a librarian. She was plain, that's for sure, but there was something about her that Mario found intriguing right away. Maybe it was that she didn't seem as happy to be here as the others. In fact, she had been the only one besides Mario who didn't introduce herself to the other players. "Kelly Turner." A shorter, middle-aged woman with a fit body and a bouncing blonde ponytail started up the steps. While she wasn't smiling per say, she still seemed a little too okay with all this. Mario assumed maybe some players knew more than others. But from what Mario knew about the games so far, he had found nothing worth smiling about. "Mario Banks." Mario kept his head down, not liking the way he felt when he made eye contact with one of the staff members. They all seemed so strange to him with their century old clothing, pale skin, dark, soulless eyes and creepy grins. If Mario didn't know any better, he'd swear they were all dead, or at least headed that way. Mario took his vest, labeled with the number 6, and pulled it over his green hoodie. He wondered if being chosen as the sixth player had anything to do with him spending six years of his life in prison. Maybe that was why he was chosen for the games? Mario followed the old lady inside the mansion and gasped when he looked around at the foyer. White marbled tile, so shiny you could see your reflection, covered the floor from one wall to the other. A big, golden chandelier with dangling oval shaped crystals hung from the ceiling. The decor seemed to be antique, but there was no shortage of technology around to keep things modern. A large television was mounted to the wall, just next to the staircase at the center of the foyer. Another television of the same size was mounted to the opposite side of the staircase. Neither of them were turned on. "So do we each have our own bedrooms or are we sharing? Because um, I see a couple of ladies here I wouldn't mind sharing a bed with," Jackson smirks, licking his lips as he looked to Brandi, the tall, blonde, rich girl. To Mario's surprise Brandi giggled. Mario rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He couldn't believe a scumbag line like that would work on such a high-class looking woman. "You'll each have your own private quarters," Winston answers. "If you'll follow your butlers, they will show you to your rooms. You are to meet back here in the foyer at 7pm sharp. Do not be late." Mario followed Richard up the staircase to the second floor of the house. He took a left down a long hallway with bright, red carpet. He stopped in front for the last door on the left and took a key from his pocket. "Wait...theses doors lock from the outside?" Mario asked, cocking a brow. "Oh, hell no! You ain't locking me in this room!" "Don't worry," Richard chuckled, as if Mario's outburst had no effect on him at all. "You can leave the door unlocked if you wish." Richard unlocked the door and pushed it open. Mario looked around at the spacious room in amazement. The bed was huge; far bigger than any he had ever owned. A pair of antique chairs sat in front of the window with a small table between them. Atop the table was a porcelain tea kettle and two matching cups. Mario had never sipped tea from a fancy cup before, and he didn't intend to start now. He planned to use this night to come up with a strategy; to fill out his competition and figure out if they have weak points he should be aware of. "Your attire for tonight's dinner is in your wardrobe here," Richard said, pointing to the only means of storage in the entire room. Mario walked over to the wardrobe and open it up to reveal a black tuxedo. He had never worn one before- never had a reason to. He hoped the tie was a clip on. He cringed at the mere thought of Richard being close enough to him to tie his tie. "I'll be just outside if you need anything," Richard nods before stepping out of the room. (add aces here- not sure why, just thought it would look cool) Mario walked down the stair case, buttoning his cuff links along the way. He had lost track of time going over his strategies for the games, which he still knew nothing about, and barely made it out the door with a minute to spare. He reached the foyer just as the televisions on the wall turned on, revealing only the silhouette of a man against a red background. "Good evening, ladies and gentleman. Welcome to Winthrope Manor. We hope your stay has been enjoyable so far. Tonight, we have prepared a feast in hour of our seven, wonderful guests. Tonight, indulge, laugh, have fun. The games will begin at midnight, tonight." The television shut off, leaving everyone looking around at each other in confusion. "I thought we were going to get answers tonight," Damon, the actor, said. "We want to know why we're here!" "Yeah!" some of the others agreed. "All in good timing," Winston replied, nodding. "For now, let me show you into the dining area." A couple of the butlers opened a set of double doors on the left side of the foyer. Winston led the group inside to a long dining table with exactly seven chairs- four on the right side of the table and three on the left. A place card labeled with a number sat at each place at the table. The table was adorned with a brilliant white table cloth; a heavy material, maybe canvas. Empty wine glasses sat next to an empty plate and polished silverware. Mario had never seen anything so fancy and upscale in person before. "Please, find your number and take a seat," Winston says. As everyone gathered around he table, Mario couldn't help but notice how silly everyone looked with their white netted vests showing their player number over their formal dresses and tuxedos. Mario didn't understand the purpose of having to wear these. The staff obviously knew who these people were. They were the ones who sent the invitations, after all. So the vest must identify the players for someone else? Or each other? "Phew, I'm so nervous," Kelly, the middle-aged woman who Mario overheard was a yoga teacher said, sitting in the chair next to him. "Are you nervous?" Mario didn't bother acknowledging her. He couldn't make friends just yet, not until he knew what these games were all about. He could need allies, but all of them could also be enemies. Until he figured things out, he planned to just lay low and stay quiet. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone sit in the chair on the other side of him. He hadn't seen player seven yet and had wondered who it might be. He didn't look like anyone special. He had wild, curly black hair, a shaggy, patchy beard and terrible posture. If Mario's mother had seen him slouching that way, she would've hit him over the head with a rolled up newspaper like a he was a dog. After everyone was seated, Winston picked up a tiny, gold bell and gave it a jingle. Only seconds later, the dining room filled with pale skinned people dressed in black, serving dish after dish of the most delicious food Mario had ever seen. A couple of butlers pulled back the curtains to what Mario thought was a window to reveal another mounted television. It turned on to reveal the same silhouette the group had seen earlier. "Bon appetite! As the old proverb says, eat, drink and be merry; for tomorrow, we die."
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