Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
I watch them meticulously. Tracking their every step while keeping concealed. I don’t have the intention to take them out tonight. It’s too soon in the games to make such a big move. I need to lure them into a false sense of security, and just when they think they’ve got this shit in the bag, I’ll be happy to remind them of their positions—six feet under.
The brothers stand on either side of the road, and I watch from above, situated on the roof. The Texan Reaper is leaning against a storefront, cigarette in hand, as he tries to appear inconspicuous. He watches his brother from the corner of his eye before flicking his gaze back to a takeout store, intently watching the door.
His brother takes up residence in a bus shelter, leaning back on the bench with his foot propped on his knee. He scrolls through his phone, his attention anywhere but the store that houses his current victim, making it clear which of the brothers is in charge.
The Boneyard Slayer is nothing but muscle for his brother’s benefit, and from the look of it, he probably took a few too many hits to the head as a kid. However, it begs the question, who the fuck is currently purchasing takeout?
A few minutes pass before the door opens and a scrawny surfer-looking guy steps out with his food in hand, and I let out a sigh. Sharkbait. I didn’t have high hopes for this guy, and quite frankly, this is going to be a simple, quick kill.
From what little information I’ve been able to find, the guy received his name from killing his victims and dumping their bodies into shark-infested waters in an attempt to destroy the evidence. Naturally, it didn’t work. Only an idiot would think that was a flawless plan. I mean, sure, I’ve left bodies to be eaten before. There’s nothing better than natural selection playing out right before your eyes, but if you’re going to take calculated risks, you need to make sure they’ll pay off. Areas with an over-population of hungry foxes or wolves is generally a foolproof plan, and you better make sure it’s a fresh kill. But a cold dead body floating in the ocean? Fuck no. Sure, a shark might take a nibble, but when he realizes it’s not a tasty seal, he’ll abandon it and leave it floating in the ocean to inevitably wash up on shore.
I consider walking away, not particularly interested in spending my night watching the brothers make their kill, but despite my boredom, I stay, finding myself curious about their hunting style. I’ve never been one to work with others. I don’t like coordination, and I sure as hell don’t like sharing my plans. As a general rule, I don’t play well with others, but their dynamic intrigues me, and when it comes to the time for me to take their lives, I want to know exactly what I’m in for.
The second Sharkbait fully steps out of the store, he turns to his right and walks directly toward the brothers. Fucking idiot. Does he not sense them there? Get chills down his spine when he realizes he’s in imminent danger? Where are his basic survival instincts?
He starts unwrapping a burger and takes a hasty bite as though he hasn’t eaten in days before crossing the road right in front of the bus shelter. Though to his credit, The Boneyard Slayer is still so buried in his phone that he doesn’t even realize his target is right in front of him. The Texan Reaper on the other hand is watching it all with a keen eye while glaring at his brother to get his shit together.
Sharkbait steps up onto the walkway, just past the bus shelter, and continues on his way, his every brain cell fully focused on the burger in his hand. I realize this guy thinks he’s going to sail right through to the end by simply hiding out. He hasn’t got a damn clue that he’s a weak player, and that right there is one hell of a fatal mistake.
Fuck. These games are really starting to bore me. Why include so many incompetent players? I thought I was coming here to play with the best of the best. Shadow and Siren are obviously excluded from that. So far, they’re the only two who have been able to show just a shred of promise, and the only two I’m going to struggle to end, while everyone else is nothing but fodder to be played with.
With their target beginning to put distance between them, The Texan Reaper pushes off the wall and stalks Sharkbait down the street, and I follow them along the roof, simply stepping from one rooftop to the next. It’s not long before The Boneyard Slayer finally glances up to realize he missed his shot and hastily shoves his phone in his pocket and begins rushing to catch up. Only the sound of his rushed feet on the pavement has Sharkbait stiffening.