Broken White: The Complete Series (All 8 Books)

by Amy Cross

  "You don't know me," I reply. "You don't know what I feel, or who I love, or anything about me." I turn to walk away, but he grabs my hand with surprising force. "This conversation is over," I tell him.

  "There are things you need to know," he continues, with an air of desperation in his voice. "I was told, many years ago, that one day I would meet a girl such as you. A girl who has the potential to win the game and to end the pain." He pauses. "The game is not played for enjoyment, Elly. It hurts everyone who passes across its threshold. There is not one person in history who hasn't been scarred or worse by their participation. The number of dead bodies is staggering, and there has been so much misery. If you can end the game and bring this madness to a conclusion, it's your duty to do so immediately. No-one can be brought back from the dead, but at least it might be possible to prevent future generations from suffering. The thought of the game stretching on and on for years to come..." He pauses, as tears start to roll down his cheeks. "Please, Elly. End the game."

  "I can't," I reply, before looking over at Alice. "Why does he think I can help? There's nothing I can do for you! Why does he keep asking me? I'm just me! I'm not some special person who can fix the game for you! I'm just me, and I think I've already shown pretty conclusively that I'm not good at this!" I wait for her to reply. "Why do you both keep pushing me?"

  "Because it's possible," she says. "Not definite, not certain, but possible. This is the first time for at least a century that there has been a chance to end the game. You're the right kind of girl, Elly. You're strong, and you seem to have some kind of innate affinity for the rhythms of the game and the patterns that exist within the rules." She pauses for a moment. "You don't get it, do you?" she continues eventually. "You were born for this moment, Elly. You're going to be the one who ends the game. This moment has been coming for so long, but it's finally here and I'm absolutely certain that you'll be able to withstand the final waves of pain. You're the one. Thomas Pope knows it, Mark knew it, and I can't help thinking that perhaps you even know it yourself. All you have to do is face one final challenge."

  Jonathan Pope

  1901

  "Thomas is sleeping," Lady Red says as she walks through to join me in one of the rooms beneath the Castleton. "I must say, he's a very well-behaved boy. He barely cries at all. Do you think he's just got a good character, or is he perhaps scared? After all, I heard that he had a somewhat traumatic entry into the world."

  Refusing to answer, I sit completely still on the wooden chair that has been provided for me. When we arrived at the hotel, I was carried through the back door and brought down here. Mr. Blue and Mr. White quickly left, and Lady Red soon departed with Thomas, claiming that she needed to find somewhere safe for him to rest. I was forced to wait here, alone, and for the past hour I've been unable to stop thinking about the consequences of my failure. If Thomas is raised by these three grotesque monsters, I can't imagine how he'll turn out. My son is in danger of becoming yet another monster, and I am the only person who can possibly save him.

  "Do you want to see something fun?" Lady Red asks after a moment. She lowers the front of her dress to reveal her breasts. "They're quite small, aren't they?" she continues. "Little more than two faint mounds. I'm twenty-five years old, Mr. Pope, and yet I have barely a bosom. Still, I suppose I can't complain." She smiles. "The game excites me," she says eventually. "I daren't admit it to the others, but I'm in a constant state of arousal. Would you like me to demonstrate this to you? I'd be happy to -"

  "Go to hell," I say firmly.

  "You sound so angry," she replies, running her hands over her breasts. "Do I make you angry, Mr. Pope? Or is it the world in general? Do you feel as if, through no fault of your own, you've been delivered to a dark and dangerous place?" She pauses. "I've checked the records. You've been Mr. Blue for five years, and Lady Henrietta deHavilland was Lady Red for thirty-one. That's quite some achievement. I hope to match her, but for now, I can only assume that you, Mr. Pope, allowed yourself to be lured into the game against your better judgment. How else can you explain the fact that you played along with such a macabre group of people?"

  "Go to hell," I say again.

  "Fair enough," she replies, re-covering her chest. "I'll find someone else to pleasure. For now, I fear that we've reached something of an endgame. I trust that you're not foolish enough to think that you can ever escape. This is the room in which you're going to die, and there's nothing you can do about it. It's also the room in which your body will be kept. I've arranged for Mr. Blue and Mr. White to prepare a cozy little nook where your remains can be bricked up forever. I suppose they might be found one day, but not for many years, and by then we'll all be long gone." She pauses. "Can you accept this fate, Mr. Pope, or do you still cling to the belief that some miracle might deliver you from this room?"

  Instead of answering, I focus on trying to get free from the rope. Unfortunately, the knot is proving to be far too tight, so I'm starting to wonder if there might be some other way to escape. Time is running out, however, and for the first time I feel as if perhaps I might not be able to get free before these monsters decide to finish me off. The specter of death is passing over me, and for the first time in my life, I can't see a way to get out of a tight spot. It pains me to think that this monstrous harridan might be the one who puts me in my grave, and the thought of Thomas being in her clutches is too much to handle. That child deserves something better. He needs a fresh start, free from the mistakes that Henrietta and I made. Instead, it seems that we've delivered him into the arms of the Devil, in which case I can only hope that by some miracle he is eventually saved.

  "I'd like to think," Lady Red continues, "that if we had met in other circumstances, we might have been friends. There's something about you, Mr. Pope, that attracts my attention. Do you think that I might have fallen in love with you, if I had been Lady Red to your Mr. Blue? Do you think I'd have made the same mistake as Lady Henrietta? It's so easy for me now, to see the errors she made, but I have the benefit of hindsight. I suppose I shall face certain challenges of my own as the game progresses. I can only hope that I deal with them effectively, and without hurting anyone. Poor Thomas deserves to have someone to look up to, does he not?"

  "Every time you say his name," I reply bitterly, "you seem more and more grotesque. You're nothing but a vile serpent, spreading poison throughout the world. If you think God will allow you to influence this child -"

  "God?" she replies, unable to hide her amusement. "Are you bringing God into this now? Do you think God is going to intervene and save you, Mr. Pope? I know enough about you to be absolutely certain that you're not a man who has ever given a damn what God thinks. Are you planning a death-bed conversion, and hoping that maybe you'll be saved? Is that the final, cynical act of your godless, soulless life? Have you fallen so low that in your craven desperation, you appeal for help to God, having never once given a damn about Him before?"

  I open my mouth to argue with her, but finally I realize that there's no point. After all, on this one topic, she's right. I've lived a cruel and wicked life, and if God exists, there's no way that He would ever choose to save me. I've killed people, sometimes with good reason and sometimes simply as a means of saving myself; I've caused heartache and misery throughout the city, and I've helped thieves and murderers to continue their dark trajectories. There's nothing redeemable about me, nothing worth saving, and it would be a travesty if God were to decide that I should be spared. But Thomas is another matter, and I fail to see why my innocent son should be punished simply because he had the misfortune to be born to such a terrible father. It's for the sake of my son, and him alone, that I now find myself desperately hoping that some divine force might choose to intervene. Otherwise, the world seems to be an utterly dark and desolate place.

  "God has intervened," Lady Red says after a moment. "He saw that this child would lead a miserable life with you, and He chose to prevent you from achieving your goals. He moved the child to my
arms, so that I can raise dear little Thomas and help him avoid your influence. If you ever wanted proof that God exists, Mr. Pope, I would argue that your death serves the purpose rather well. I'm sorry if that sounds harsh, but it's the truth." She pauses. "I have a confession to make. I'm not sure how this is going to go down with you. At first, I thought you might be pleased, but then I realized that you might think it's rather macabre."

  "Nothing could shock me anymore," I say bitterly, still trying to untie the ropes behind my back.

  "Are you sure about that?" she asks, staring at me with a steely gaze.

  "The game breeds monsters," I tell her. "The game -"

  "I know," she says quietly. "The thing is, sometimes a monster tries to do a good deed, and it ends up... not being appreciated. I thought you'd like your final resting place to be comforting, so I had Mr. White gather up the pieces of Henrietta's body from the King's Arms before the fire began. We laid the pieces in concrete. In my naivety, I assumed that we'd be able to put her back together and make her look peaceful, but it wasn't possible. I'm afraid we ended up making a terrible mess. I won't show you the result, but rest assured that once you're dead, you'll be placed next to her." She waits for me to say something. "Does it give you some small comfort to know that you'll be with the woman you claim to have loved? It won't be consecrated ground, of course, but it's something, isn't it?" She pauses. "Isn't it, Mr. Pope? I genuinely don't know. Have we given you any comfort at all?"

  Slowly, I shake my head.

  She frowns. "I've always been bad at this kind of thing. I can never quite judge how people are going to react to things. It's a real problem for me. Still, I shall work on it. Could you perhaps explain why this gesture hasn't made you feel better?"

  I stare at her, and finally I realize that she's an utter psychopath. She's completely unable to understand how another person might feel, even when she tries to imagine the emotions of others. "You're a monster," I say eventually. "A monster in human form. You're dangerous when you're trying to be bad, and you're dangerous when you're trying to be good. You're psychopathic, and you have no way of changing. The only way you can truly help other people would be to remove yourself from the human race entirely. Just take a knife and cut your wrists, because other than that, you're a monster. You can bring nothing but hatred and fear into the world."

  "I see," she says calmly. "Do you really believe that to be the case?"

  "It's self-evident," I tell her.

  "Oh," she replies, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "Then I imagine that you're very upset that I'm going to be raising your son, aren't you?"

  I open my mouth to tell her to go to hell, but suddenly I realize that she's smiling at me. It's as if all those pain and misery is amusing her, and anything I say now will simply give her more pleasure. Instead of arguing, I try to stay calm, and I focus on working out how I can get out of this situation. I'm still working on the knot behind my back, but I need a better plan. With Mr. White and Mr. Blue out of the room, this might be my best opportunity yet to strike out at Lady Red and incapacitate her in some way; at the same time, unless I can get free, I don't see what I can do. It's as if I can feel every second ticking past, and I know with absolute certainty that if I don't find a way out in the next few minutes, I'm doomed.

  Suddenly, from another room, there's the sound of Thomas starting to cry.

  "You'll have to excuse me," Lady Red says, heading over to the door. "It sounds as if the child is in need of some love and attention."

  "Keep away from him!" I shout.

  "Calm down," she replies, glancing back at me with a smile. "There's nothing you can do, so you might as well just accept the situation. I'll be back shortly with my colleagues, and we'll see about ending your misery. Until then, try to think happy thoughts."

  "Stop!" I shout as she leaves the room. "Don't you dare touch him! He's not yours!" After a moment, I realize that Thomas has stopped crying. Less than a day old, he clearly has no way of recognizing that he's in the arms of a monster. "Stop!" I shout, with tears running from my eyes. "Leave him alone!"

  Elly

  Today

  "I want to see Mark," I say firmly. "Until I see him, and I know he's okay, I'm not doing anything."

  "You'll see him in due course," Alice replies. "Don't worry about him. He's -"

  "I want to see him," I continue, fighting back tears. "I don't care what you say, I want to see him with my own eyes and know that he's okay. I want to see that you haven't..."

  She smiles. "Haven't what, Elly?"

  "I want to see that you haven't killed him," I say, even though the words send a shiver through my body.

  "And if I have?" she asks. "What would you do then?" Walking across the kitchen, she takes one of the large knives and brings it over to me, before turning the blade to against her chest and pausing for a moment. "Would you kill me? Would you take revenge?"

  "You're insane," I reply. "This whole thing. The game. It's all crazy."

  "Welcome to the party," she replies with a smile. "I'm interested in your answer, though. Would you kill me, Elly? Do you have the strength of character to end someone else's life? After all, if I arranged for Mark to die, surely I'd deserve to lose my own life?"

  "This is all a lie," I continue. "The whole thing. The game, everything, it's all just made up. It's some weird, perverted excuse that the three of you have come up with to justify the way you live your lives. It's just some kind of joke, and I was stupid enough to let you draw me in."

  "It's not a joke," she says, removing her red cloak to reveal her nude body. Her chest is badly scarred, and her breasts are gone. As she keeps the knife pointed at her heart, she smiles at me. "The cancer devastated my body," she says after a moment, "but it made me realize that the game, too, is a kind of cancer. It invades out lives and destroys them from the inside, and eventually it kills us. The role of Lady Red was so hard to play when I was dealing with the aftermath of the surgery. I was ready to give up a thousand times, but I kept fighting." She pauses. "Life always finds a way to keep going, Elly. I chose to stay strong, but I'm not as strong as you. You're the one who's going to ensure that the game comes to an end. I wish I could have been the one, and I wish I could watch as you achieve your victory, but some things just can't be made to happen."

  "I want to see Mark," I tell her, as tears start to fall down my face. "Please, I just want to see him. You have to let me see that he's okay."

  "And you have to trust me," she replies. "I know that must be difficult, but I assure you, Mark is being looked after."

  "So he's at a hospital?"

  "Do you care?"

  "Of course I care!" I shout.

  "Really?" She smiles. "Your father died, Elly, and you barely showed any emotion. His former business partner came onto you, and you slept with him almost immediately. Then, even though he almost killed the pair of you in a car crash, you decided to quit university and move in with him. His ex-girlfriend went missing, prompting a police investigation, but you decided to stay. Even when the mechanics of the game were explained to you, you were willing to go along with it. You let Mr. White push you beyond your physical and emotional limits, to the extent that you had a heart attack. Your best friend vanished, and you accepted Mark's rather feeble explanation. And now, after everything that's happened tonight, you're standing here, listening to me talk, instead of collapsing in a heap or running away." She pauses. "Are you strong, Elly? Or are you just a little strange in the head? Is your so-called strength just an inability to react to the world in a normal way? Maybe..." She pauses. "Maybe you're just crazy."

  "You don't know me," I reply, even though I can't help but wonder whether she's right. I guess I know that my reactions have been pretty strange, and even though I've been having a lot of concerns about Mark, I've managed to ignore them and convince myself that somehow I'm making the right choices.

  "You claim to love Mark," she continues, "but in reality, you just want to love him. You want
to prove to yourself that you can love someone. I'm not saying you're a monster, or even that you're particularly unusual in that one particular regard. But you have to admit, most other girls in your position would have run screaming from this whole mess a long, long time." She stares at me for a moment. "What's wrong with you, Elly? Have you always known you're not like different, or is it a recent revelation?"

  "She's right," Thomas Pope says.

  I turn to him, and somehow it's as if, as he stares at me, he's an encapsulation of the entire game. There's a look in his eyes that seems to be informed by knowledge of the game's deepest secrets, and although I know that Lady Red is supposed to be the one who knows everything about the game, I can't help but feel that Thomas Pope knows more than he admits. Is it possible that this old man is the hidden architect of the game, and that he's the one who has been pulling strings behind the scenes for so long?

  "I wish you nothing but luck," Alice continues. "Nothing but pure unalloyed happiness. It's going to be hard, Elly, but I want you to know that I believe in you. I have absolute faith in your ability to do this."

  When I turn back to face her, I see to my horror that she has slowly started to push the tip of the knife into her chest, sliding it between her ribs. Blood is starting to dribble down from the wound, but there's a determined, fatalistic look on her face, as if she's managed to train her mind to accept the pain. As she stares at me, she seems so noble in the face of death, but at the same time I can see a hint of fear in her expression.

  "What are you doing?" I ask, my voice starting to tremble. "Stop!"

  She shakes her head.

  "You're going to kill yourself!" I shout.