The votes are in, and a World is forming! Dark Romance, Dual – POV!
Welcome to the GAME: a playground for the rich and powerful, a hell for those ignorant of the rules. To play, you embody your true self. The vile you. The desperate you. The sexual, depraved, despicable you.
She doesn’t know her role, her location, or even her name. Trapped in a world designed for the devious to indulge, the tribute known only as Juno is the ultimate prize—whether she realizes it or not.
K, a game master with many secrets, is more than eager to take the spoils of this twisted fantasy landscape for himself. But when the consequences are laid bare, he has to give in to the very traits of humanity the GAME is designed to suppress, or play his role to its full extent.
No matter the cost.
The silence is deafening—mainly in what it reveals. Not an absence of sound entirely but an array of ambient noises that set every hair on the back of my neck on end. Running water—a stream? The incessant chirping of various insects. Wind rustling through branches.
And the hum of an engine roaring to life, bolstering the sudden jolting movement beneath me.
I’m not home. But where is home, exactly? A smattering of images comes to mind—a street, white siding, and roses—but I can’t remember anything coherent. Where am I now?
I don’t know.
Should I be worried by that? My head is throbbing, my thoughts congealing together, thickened by confusion. I don’t know how I got here, wherever I am.
And… I don’t even know my name. I should have one, that much I’m aware of. But my thoughts are like mud, thick and resistant to any attempt to decipher them. I focus on breathing instead. In and out through a scratchy material covering my nose and mouth. I can’t move either. Any attempt to extend my limbs meets painfully tight resistance, and when I try to open my eyes, all I see is darkness.
“Stop here,” someone calls out to break the silence. They’re male, their voice impossibly deep. Alarm flares in my body, but I don’t know why. Recognition? I can feel my muscles tensing, reacting to the figure’s presence in a way that both baffles and terrifies me.
Who is he? Why does the mere sound of his voice make my heart falter and stomach churn?
“Is the little bitch still out?” the mysterious speaker asks.
“Don’t know,” someone replies—another man judging from the gruff baritone. Fear prickles down my spine, but devoid of that uncanny recognition. “Let me check.”
Pain sears through my shoulder as if something just struck it, heedless of the force they applied. A cry threatens to crawl up my throat, but an instinctive warning makes me choke it down. Shut up. My teeth pierce my lower lip in the effort, but I don’t make a single sound, and the pressure withdraws.
“Good,” the first man says with a laugh that twists my insides. “I want to see the look on her face when she’s there. And that fucker, K’s—” he laughs coldly. “He thinks he’s so fucking untouchable. This will teach him that despite all his goddamn rules and regulations, no one is infallible.”
“You think no one will realize that she’s not in on it?” the other man questions with a snicker.
“She’s going to black tier. The more the little bitch screams, the better they’ll think she’s playing the game. And given what’s in store, she’s going to fucking scream.”
The words chill me to the core as my brain scrambles to decipher them. Black tier? Game? Annoyance makes me stifle a hiss of irritation. Why can’t I remember?
“How will you get to her?” the other man asks. “Considering what you’ve planned and all. She’s a nice piece of ass, but I think you’ll have your work cut out to get to her first.”
“I will,” the man replies with a confidence that makes my heart drop. “She’s going to the gauntlet so by law only the winner can have her. And I intend to enjoy every fucking minute with the little cunt when I do.”
“What if someone realizes before then?”
“That she’s not a player? Given the level she’s going into, I doubt they will. Even so, K won’t stand for his little paradise’s reputation being tainted. He’ll shut her up. And by the time she’s back on the outside, with the amount of shit in her system, she won’t remember a fucking thing.”
“I know where she lives in the real world, remember?” the man says with a chilling laugh. “Game or not, the little cunt will learn—I’m not someone to fuck with.”
“So, what the hell did she do to deserve all this shit, anyway?”
If the man replies, I don’t hear it. Just the roar of the engine swallowing all conversation and robbing me of any chance at clarity.
Whose POV should the next section be written in?
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