by Amy Cross
Jonathan Pope
1901
"Stop," Henrietta says suddenly, reaching out and placing a hand on my chest.
Standing in complete silence, I stare in the darkness ahead. Although I have neither seen nor heard anything to cause concern, I cannot help but notice the look of fear in Henrietta's eyes. Since she is more at home in this strange and barbaric world, I feel I must demur to her senses and let her guide the way.
"I heard nothing," I whisper eventually.
"There are different types of silence," she replies, still staring straight ahead, "just as there are different types of emptiness. You would do well to learn to tell them apart from one another".
As I wait for Henrietta to continue, I glance over my shoulder. We're deep beneath the city, in a series of subterranean passages that lead to the heart of the game. Although I have been into part of this complex before, I do not know my way around, whereas Henrietta seems to have the entire map in her mind. Originally built by the founder of the game, Benjamin Edgewood, these underground passages are part of a labyrinthine network of tunnels, designed to deter even the most determined of intruders. Snaking around and past the other tunnels that exist beneath the city of London, these passages offer the only route to the game's beating heart.
"We can continue," Henrietta says suddenly, "but tread carefully. I can't be certain that Mr. White did not have time to set any traps".
"The man had no idea his death was imminent," I reply as we continue to walk. "I saw his face as he was shot. He thought he'd won. If anything, he was letting his guard down. There's no way he'd have foreseen the need to guard against either of us. He believed us to be dead".
"That man could never be so easily fooled," Henrietta replies. "I guarantee you, my darling, that he will have had his suspicions, even after he believed us both to be dead. Harrison Blake was a powerful and manipulative man. Do you really think he could have risen to a rank in government if he was gullible or naive?"
"But the whole point of the game is that no-one else knows about it, is it not?" I ask. "Apart from Mr. Blue, Mr. White and Lady Red, its existence is hidden from every other living being on the planet, with the brief exceptions of the girls who are unfortunate enough to be drawn into its clutches. Surely anyone else who learned of the game's existence would be swiftly dispatched?"
"We're here," she says, ignoring my question as we round the next corner and reach a large iron door. Pulling a key from her pocket, she swiftly gains us admittance to what turns out to be a large square room that appears to have been carved directly out of the rock. Now that we're several miles beneath the city, it's noticeable that the air is colder and more still, while the walls feel a little damp.
"There's nothing in this place," I reply.
"Patience," she says with a smile as she pushes the door shut behind us. "We're directly beneath the river, on the very edge of the Underworld itself. Sometimes, if one stands completely still in these passages, one can hear screams from deeper still. It would certainly not be wise to spend too much time down here, lest one should find one's sanity beginning to lapse".
"So why are we here?" I ask, walking ahead of her. "If the heart of the game is nothing more than an empty room, what is there for us to do?"
"We must step into the shadows, of course," she replies with a smile, hurrying past me and making her way to the far corner. "You must be a little more observant, Jonathan. Sometimes, there are ways forward that one would not ordinarily notice if one were too keen to reach a conclusion. For example..." She disappears into the shadows, and after a moment I realize that her footsteps are continuing to move away. "Come on!" she shouts. "There isn't much time!"
Hurrying after her, I find that the shadows conceal a small, dark passageway that leads through the rock and, finally, into a small room that seems strangely familiar. It's almost impossible to believe that after such a long journey beneath the city, we seem to have reached the space in which I stood once before with Henrietta, back when she first showed me some of the secretes of the game. Looking up, I see the oil painting of Benjamin Edgewood that I first admired more than five years ago.
"You must remember this," Henrietta says, hurrying over to a wooden cabinet. "Do you happen to recall what I told you about it?"
"You said that it contains the history of the game," I reply, walking over to join her, "and also the prize".
Opening the cabinet, she takes out a small wooden box.
"The prize?" I ask.
"I have always wondered what might be found in this box," she says, her voice filled with tension. "There have been various theories over the years, of course. Some believe that it contains a key. Others believe that it might be empty, as if it's some kind of joke. Then there are those who think that it contains something far more unusual, such as the secret to eternal life. I even heard one person claim that the Holy Grail itself might be in some way linked to this place. Not that I believe such things, of course. Benjamin Edgewood was many things, but he was not a magician. Still, I don't doubt that..." Her voice trails off for a moment. "Hold this," she says suddenly, passing the box to me.
"It's very light," I reply.
"There's also this," she continues, removing a larger box from the cabinet. Flicking the clasp open, she pulls the side away to reveal a human skull held in a glass jar. The skin is shriveled and dry, but it's clear that the head once belonged to a man. "This is him," she says after a few seconds. "My dear, you are looking upon the face of Benjamin Edgewood himself. It has been more than a hundred and fifty years since his passing, but his head remains preserved. Can you imagine what he'd say if he could see us now? If he discovered that the game had indeed lasted for so many years?"
"You said we were here to destroy the game," I say firmly. "As much as I wish to learn the history of this place, I also wish to get out of here alive".
"You're quite right," she replies, placing the larger box back into the cabinet. "I'm sorry," she continues. "It's just that I've been around the game for so long, and I never thought that I'd end up being part of its destruction. I revered these items for so many years, and I truly believed that I would never live to see the prize revealed. Now, though, I realize that I have no choice but to become the instrument of its destruction. So much pain and fear has emanated from this place, destroying the lives of hundreds of men and women. Now it's going to end, and we must be grateful that lives will be spared in years to come".
Looking down at the box, I see that there's a small clasp on one side. Cautiously, I turn the box and reach out to open the clasp.
"No," Henrietta says suddenly, placing her hand on the box. "We shall not look. It might be a trap. Perhaps I'm superstitious, but I'd rather not risk anything". Reaching into her pocket, she produces a bottle of clear liquid and a set of matches. "We shall simply destroy it," she continues. "That way, its physical form will be destroyed and the very idea of its existence will be lost forever. I would rather not remember its form, since that might be a way for it to -"
Suddenly I feel a vibration in my hand, and to my surprise the box seems to leap out of my grasp, landing with a thud on the ground nearby.
"It felt -" I start to say.
With a faint bumping sound, the box shifts a few inches across the ground, as if something inside is attempting to move away from us.
"Leave it," Henrietta says, opening the top of the bottle. "There's nowhere for it to go".
"But what is it?" I ask, watching as she approaches the box, which is still bumping along the ground. "What's inside that thing?"
"We will never know," she replies, pouring the contents of the bottle over the box. Moments later, there's a strong stench of alcohol, and I realize that she means to incinerate the entire object. "Whatever this thing is," she says, lighting a match, "it must end here. No more horror. No more fear. Just the end of the game. Forever". With that, she drops the match and the box is engulfed by flames.
Elly
Today
&
nbsp; "I'm only going to say this once," Mark tells me firmly as he sits by my hospital bed, "and you have to believe me. It's the truth. I have no idea where your friend Jess has gone. The last time I saw her, she was leaving the apartment. It was the same night that you were there. After that, I don't know where she went. To be honest, I never even gave her a second thought. I just felt that it was an awkward situation that as best left to settle".
Staring at him, I try to work out whether he's telling the truth. I want to believe him, and he seems convincing, but at the same time I feel as if I've been fooled too many times before. It's not hard to see how Mark could have had plenty of practice at lying over the years, and I'm aware that I've maybe been a little naive. I've more or less accepted everything he's told me, and I've ignored the lingering doubts at the back of my mind. Right now, however, I feel as if only the truth will be good enough, and as I look into his eyes, I realize I can no longer trust my own perception. The more he seems to be telling the truth, the more I worry that I'm being tricked.
"If she's missing," he continues, "you need to alert the police. I'm serious. I have no idea what could have happened to her, but if she's genuinely vanished, it's your duty as a friend to do something. Granted, she might just be keeping a low profile after everything that happened, but you need to think of her safety. The police -"
"Don't worry," I reply firmly. "You're lucky I haven't called them already".
"Elly..." He pauses, and I can see the anguish in his eyes. The problem is, I have no idea whether it's genuine.
We sit in silence for a moment.
"Tell me about Chrissie," I say eventually.
"We've been over this -"
"She went missing, right?" I stare at him. "It seems to me, Mark, that people have a tendency to vanish after they've been with you. I'd be an idiot not to be worried, wouldn't I?"
"I'm not a killer," he replies.
"How do I know that?"
"Because you know me". He places a hand on my leg, but he pulls it away again as soon as he sees me flinch. "I'm sorry, Elly, but I thought you had a better handle on me than that. Yes, I live an unusual life, but do you really think I go around killing people?" He waits for me to answer. "I don't know what happened to Chrissie. She was never really a very important person in my life. We just dated for a while. She was part of the game, but I knew from the beginning that she wasn't going to make it. She was just a distraction, someone to fill the time before I met you".
"That's very flattering," I reply darkly.
"I save your life," he replies.
We sit in silence.
"After your heart attack," he continues eventually, "Mr. White wanted to abandon you. He thought it was too dangerous to let you come to hospital for treatment. He said there'd be too many questions, and he felt that you'd break". He stares at me for a moment. "Are you going to break, Elly? You don't look broken to me. Not yet. Then again, maybe I'm biased".
"Define broken," I reply, holding back the tears that are welling up behind my eyes.
"Are you going to leave the game?" he asks. "Are you going to decide that enough's enough?"
"I had a heart attack," I point out.
"So?"
I stare at him. "So?" I reply eventually. "What does that mean?"
"It means that you were warned in advance that the game would push you to your limits".
"No-one said anything about..." I pause, realizing that in some kind of sick and twisted way, Mark and the others seem to be folding my health problems into the game. "Does this happen often?" I ask eventually, my voice trembling a little. "Have other girls had heart attacks as part of the game?"
He shakes his head.
"So I'm the only weak one?"
"Not necessarily. If you keep going, if you stay in the game regardless, you might turn out to be the strongest one yet". He waits for me to reply. "Despite Mr. White's desire to let you die, Lady Red agreed with me. She feels you could still turn out to be a very strong player. She's concerned about you, and she understands that you're at a crossroads, but she thinks your potential remains in place. She's very keen to find out what you decide to do. I've never seen her show so much faith in someone before. It's quite unusual".
I take a deep breath. "And what about you?" I ask eventually.
"What about me?"
"Are you concerned about me?" I continue, looking for any sign of genuine emotion in his eyes.
He nods.
"As part of the game, or as part of real life?"
"Elly, I love you".
I open my mouth to reply, and that's when the force of his words hit me. Feeling my hands starting to shake, I slip them under the bed-sheets.
"Did you hear me?" he continues.
I nod.
"In case you're wondering," he continues, "this is most definitely not part of the game. In fact, it's antithetical to the whole idea of the game, but..." He pauses, as if he's waiting for a certain kind of reaction. "Does it surprise you?"
"Does what surprise me?" I ask, desperately playing for time as I try to work out how I should be responding.
"That I've fallen in love with you?"
I stare at him.
"I love you," he says again.
"I'm not sure if I believe you," I reply.
"Then let me prove it to you".
I look over at the door. It's been a long time since any nurses came to check on me, almost as if Mark had them sent away.
"I know there's only one way I can prove it to you," Mark continues, "and that's by ending everything else. The game has run too long. It needs to stop".
"What do you mean?" I ask.
"I mean that the whole thing is..." He pauses. "Since I met you, Elly, I've come to realize that the game is a mess. It's a nightmare. As Mr. Blue, I'm supposed to be pushing for you to go further and further, but the truth is, I just want to get you out of the whole thing. I want out too. I want to take you away and live a normal life with you. I never thought I'd say anything like that, but..." He looks over his shoulder, as if he's making sure that no-one can overhear us.
I bite my bottom lip. What the hell am I supposed to say to all of this?
"If I can prove to you that Jess is okay," he continues, turning back to me, "and that I had nothing to do with Chrissie's disappearance, then..." He pauses again. "If I prove to you that you can trust me, will you come away with me? Will you marry me?"
I swallow hard.
"Let me try that again," he says awkwardly, with an embarrassed smile. Getting off his chair, he kneels by my bed. "Elly Bradshaw," he continues, staring into my eyes, "will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" He waits for a response. "Assuming I can make you trust me, that is". After a moment, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small silver ring. "I almost forgot," he adds, holding the ring out to me. "This belonged to my grandmother. I never thought I'd find someone to give it to, but I guess we're both full of surprises right now".
Staring at the ring, I try to work out how to respond. The truth is, my mind seems to have become completely blank, and the only thought I can muster is the one that's wondering why I'm not replying to him yet.
"I won't be offended," he continues as he gets back to his feet, "if you need to take some time to think about this. I know it's a lot to consider, and perhaps it hasn't come at the right time. I should have asked you sooner. I wanted to ask you sooner, but other things got in the way".
I stare at him, trying to work out whether his proposal is part of the game. There's something different about him today, as if some of his layers have fallen away. Then again, I'm wary of allowing my naivety to blind me to the truth. Everything I've experienced with Mark, everything I know about him, tells me I shouldn't trust his word. This proposal, and the declaration of love that came with it, could easily be the latest attempt to manipulate me. At the same time, I can't just walk away.
"I've got an idea," he continues. "Dr. Abernathy says you can leave the hospital tomorrow. That bein
g the case, I'd like to take you out to dinner. Nothing too strenuous. No alcohol. Just the two of us, going to dinner. Think of it as a chance to reconnect. Think of it as an opportunity to experience one another with no filters and no games. Meanwhile, I'll work on arranging our exit from the game. It's not going to be easy, but I think I've got a few ideas linked up. It can be done. I'll also see if I can use some of my contacts to locate your friend Jess, and maybe even Chrissie. I should have done it before, but I didn't realize..." He pauses. "Well, I didn't realize you didn't believe me, but it's okay, I'm sure I can track at least one of them down. Do we have a deal?"
I try to decide what to say.
"Do we at least have a date?"
After a moment, I nod.
"You won't regret it," he says, leaning closer. He seems set to kiss me on the lips, but at the last moment he changes his mind and kisses the side of my neck instead. "I realize I have to prove myself to you," he whispers, his lips just an inch from my skin. "I'll go to the ends of the earth if necessary. I'll do anything. Just, please, give me one more chance".
"We'll go to dinner tomorrow night," I reply, my voice sounding surprisingly frail and weak. "After that, we'll..." I pause. "We'll see what happens". I pause again, my mind still feeling completely blank. "Do you mind if I take a nap?" I ask eventually. "I'm tired".
"That's fine," he says, taking a step back. "I should get going anyway. Dr. Abernathy said you need some rest, so..." He waits for me to reply. "I'll come back tomorrow," he continues, "and we'll go and get something to eat, and we can talk about the future".
I nod.
Once he's gone, I find myself just staring into space, unable to process everything that happened. I fully expected to have a confrontation with Mark, to tell him I don't want to be part of his games any more, but it never occurred to me that he'd tell me he loves me, let alone that he'd ask me to marry him or that he'd suggest that we abandon the game. It's as if he's trying to pull away from his whole life and start something new. Then again, I'm convinced that naivety has been my biggest failing so far, and now I'm scared to let my defenses down. Looking down at the bedsheets, I see that Mark has left the silver ring. My first instinct is to pick it up and take a look, but at the last moment I realize I'm scared.
