GLUTTONY
By the time the dinner bell tolled, Ophelia had been to Hell and back in her mind. She knew she needed to get out of bed and make it to the dining room, but her appetite was completely gone and part of her thought that maybe if she just got herself disqualified, everything would be so much easier. The other part of her wanted to prove, needed to prove, she was capable of doing this.
She rolled out of bed. Scrubbing a hand over her face, she hoped her tears hadn’t stained her cheeks as noticeably as they had stained the silk of her dress where they fell. There was no reason to bother changing, however, so she straightened her skirts and braced herself to face a crowd of people.
“I can do this,” she told herself. “Just six more days.”
Dinner was more than halfway over by the time she finally made it to the dining hall. Luci spotted her and came rushing over.
“I was worried you weren’t going to make it,” Luci whispered, eyeing the extravagant gown Ophelia still wore. The dress looked sorely out of place amongst the casual attire of the other contestants but blended in with the dark opulence of Phantasma’s décor perfectly.
“You shouldn’t be worrying about me,” Ophelia said flatly.
Luci flinched a bit, hurt shining in her eyes, but Ophelia didn’t apologize. How many times would she have to warn the girl of getting attached? They weren’t friends.
As Luci trailed back to her spot next to Leon, Ophelia took up post against the wall, observing each contestant as they ate. She noted three people were missing after the last trial, leaving only thirteen members of their group left—including herself, Luci, Leon, Cade, Beau, Eric, Edna, James, and Charlotte. The remaining four contestants, whose names she didn’t know, hadn’t really stood out before, when there were more people to get lost in, but now she committed their features to memory. She wondered how many contestants were left in Phantasma overall. If any of the other groups had completely dissolved already.
The Devil finally arrived. Ophelia was not expecting it to be Jasper. He came in whistling, that same jazzy tune he always seemed to have on the tip of his tongue, and when his eyes landed on her, he gave her a wink. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Cade, Beau, and Eric stiffen at the interaction. Her face remained carefully blank.
Jasper clapped his hands together. “Alright, you miserable souls, it’s time for my game. If you thought that last level was hard, well”—he tipped his head back and laughed—“you might want to tap out of this one now.”
Everyone glanced around at each other, wondering if this would be level someone finally forfeited before they entered. But they all seemed equally as determined to dig in their heels. After all, they did not go through that last grueling level for nothing.
Jasper waved a hand next to him and summoned the door to this level, revealing their next clue and causing a few murmurs amongst the different alliances that had formed over the course of the last few days. Ophelia was the only one standing alone.
A deadly game unfurls, upon a twisted board, watch every step you take, or your fate will be untoward.
To gain the upper hand, levers are in play, but be careful which you choose, the pendulum swings both ways.
Temptations in numbers, don’t overcount, forward or backward, a single key to get out.
“My name is Jasper,” he introduced himself as he twisted the door’s knob and swung the portal open. “I have a feeling some of us are about to get very well acquainted. Hope you all know how to negotiate under pressure.” The Devil’s eyes found hers again, a smirk curling up on his lips. “Ophelia, you’re first.”
She tilted her chin up as she walked to the door, ignoring the pointed looks that speared through her at the way the Devil said her name. Too familiar.
When she stepped up to the portal, Jasper whispered, “Good luck.”
At first, there was nothing around her but gray. It wasn’t long before the details of the room came into view, however. It was made completely of dull stone bricks and was a similar size to the opulent party room from the second trial. A large grid was etched into the floor. Like a chess board.
The only other notable details were the thirteen pairs of levers on the far wall. Each set of levers had a single golden plaque beneath them bearing the name of one of the contestants. All the levers on the left were marked with check marks, the ones on the right with crosses.
Ophelia tried to take a step forward but found that her feet were frozen in place. Other contestants began to appear, one by one, and immediately her defenses went up. This was the first time they had begun a level in which they could all see each other from the start. When the last of their group of thirteen stepped through the portal, Ophelia noticed that they had been arranged in a single line across the middle of the room facing the wall of levers. Each one of them stood in the exact center of one of the squares on the grid, with five empty squares between each person so that they were evenly spaced apart. As everyone else looked around nervously, Ophelia suddenly remembered something that Blackwell had said.
There’s this whole bit with collars and chains… you wouldn’t happen to enjoy being choked, would you?
As soon as the thought entered her mind, the iron collar appeared around her throat. Sounds of alarm echoed through the room, and she heard a hastily whispered prayer on her left. She glanced sideways to see that it was James, sweating profusely, tugging at the metal collar. He caught her stare, and before she could look away, she saw the absolute terror in his eyes.
If you knock on the ground three times you’ll survive, the Shadow Voice whispered to her.
Despite knowing such a thing would not have any effect on her chances whatsoever, she still lowered herself to the ground to knock on the stone. While she was crouched, two chains dropped down from the collar, one at the front of her throat and one at the back. The heavy metal links clattered to the ground and snaked their way to opposite sides of the room. The chain in front of her pierced through the wall beneath the levers, and when she twisted to look behind her, she saw the second half of the chain had fastened itself on the other side. The boundary was clear: they would only be able to move on their designated paths.
In front of them, hovering in the air, three solid bars of gold appeared.
“I don’t get it,” a deep voice on her right said. Eric. “What are we supposed to do?”
Surprising no one, Cade was the first to move. The chained collar only allowed him to step forward, of course, and the moment he shifted out of their orderly line and stepped onto the square before him, the square sank down nearly three feet. One of the gold bars disappeared from before them and reappeared in Cade’s hands. There was a pregnant pause as the rest of them glanced at each other. Then three people moved at once: James, Eric, and the contestant named Becca. James’s and Eric’s tiles sank down first, and each of them received their own gold bar just as Cade had. Something strange happened with Becca, however. Her tile didn’t move, and there was no more gold left to claim.
The girl rubbed at their throat where the iron collar was digging into her neck, confused. “What do I—”
That’s when the jagged circular blade, swinging like a pendulum, dropped from the ceiling. The contestants who were still standing on their sunken tiles were able to easily hunch down out of the saw’s path, but Becca barely avoided getting cleaved in two. She flattened herself against the ground just before the pendulum swung through her torso. Her scream filled the tense silence in the room as everyone gaped at the spectacle in horror.
“Becca!” one of the other contestants screamed. Ophelia wasn’t able to see who it was.
Becca sobbed as she tried to drag herself toward the next tile on the row in front of her and out of the pendulum’s path. But when she moved onto the square, her weight triggered another pendulum to drop down. This pendulum swung perpendicularly to the other, creating a cross shaped path of death. They all watched, horrified, as she crawled forward again, and another saw dropped, swinging parallel to the first.
Then it only got worse. The saws were dropping lower with each swing, only about an inch each pass, but soon Becca wouldn’t be able to avoid their blades, and neither would the others. And if she continued to move to the other squares, the room would quickly become a grid of saws and death.
“Help!” she cried. “Help!”
“Call for the Devil before you summon any more and get us all killed!” someone yelled. Beau.
Becca took a ragged breath as she looked up at the pendulum, face blotchy and red with her tears. “What was his name—Jasper. Jasper! Help! Please!”
Not even an instant later Jasper was there, scooping the girl up and over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and disappearing. To everyone else’s dismay, the two extra saws Becca triggered did not disappear with them, though the first one did.
Before any of them had a chance to grasp what had just happened, another group of gold bars appeared. This time, there were four to claim. Six people scrambled forward, including, to Ophelia’s shock, Luci. Fortunately for Luci, she was one of the four who made it to the bars quickly enough. Cade and James were the ones too slow this time—having to climb their way out of the hole they’d been sunken into first—and just as before, two pendulum saws dropped from the ceiling as soon as they moved too late. The men hit the ground, James immediately beginning to panic, but Cade looked fiercely determined. Cade began to crawl forward, the gold bar he’d won from the first group wedged in the crook of his elbow, triggering pendulum after pendulum, and soon Ophelia could hardly see anything but lines and lines of swinging blades. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Each pendulum swung at different times, creating a chessboard of death, all because of their collective gluttony. Which was, of course, the point of this level. The rest of them considered their next moves. As things became increasingly dangerous and another pile of gold appeared to entice everyone, Cade had slithered along the ground all the way to the wall of levers. And that’s when Ophelia realized the space around the grid was free of saws—the entire perimeter a clear zone. Cade had once again managed to get to safety while leaving the rest of them in the worst situation possible.
Cade immediately pulled one of his levers and then twisted around to search for someone. Ophelia. His grin was sinister as he held her gaze, reaching for the lever to the right above her name, the one with the “X”, and slamming it down. Then they all watched as his collar and chains disappeared.
The room descended into a rage of chaos. Ophelia didn’t waste another second as she began chanting Blackwell’s name. The metallic, slicing clang of blades cut through the room and the screaming began seconds later. There was so much mayhem around her, it was hard to tell where she could safely move. Then she remembered the grid on the floor. Scanning the ground beneath her feet, she quickly put together that the lines were the paths of the blades. As long as she stayed in the middle of the empty squares, she would be safe.
When Blackwell appeared, he was in his non-corporeal state. He raked his eyes over her, head to toe, and though she knew he was only assessing her for injuries, her stomach still flipped. She needed to find a way to make that stop.
She cleared her throat. “What’s the best course of action?”
“You have two options,” Blackwell told her as he assessed the situation around him. “On the wall behind you is the key you need to release you from your collar and open the door to exit this level.”
Ophelia waved her hand impatiently. “And the second option?”
“You go for the levers in front of you,” he continued. “Every contestant has two levers; pull the one with the checkmark and it will give that contestant an advantage in a future level. Pull the one with the cross and it will give them a disadvantage. If both levers are pulled, it will neutralize the outcome.”
“Cade just pulled two levers.”
Blackwell nodded as if this wasn’t shocking news. “It’s time to move, then.”
“First things first,” she said, looking down at the collar.
She focused on her body from her neck down, invoking the prickling sensation she needed to turn herself invisible. Slowly, inch by inch, she began to disappear, and the collar clattered to the ground. She sighed in relief as she rubbed at the sensitive skin of her neck.
“As it turns out, I don’t like being choked,” she muttered.
Blackwell shrugged. “Not by metal collars at least.”
She shot him a hard look and stepped past him toward the path of the swinging pendulum in front of her. She counted the seconds between each swing, and Blackwell was blessedly quiet while she concentrated. Gathering up her skirts, she waited for the saw to pass in front of her three times before making the leap.
One.
Two.
Three.
Jump.
She landed easily in the next empty square, Blackwell on her heels. The only problem was that her movement triggered another pendulum to drop down to her right.
“Forward one, then left two,” Blackwell directed.
She dashed across the grid with his help. Forward… Left… Waiting for the next pendulum to reach the top point of its trajectory, she jumped over its path and then pivoted to look behind her from where she’d just come—
“Ophelia,” Blackwell yelled.
She lurched another square forward, her right arm disappearing in the nick of time before it was severed from her shoulder by one of the dropping blades. She paused, chest heaving as she began to panic.
Blackwell popped into view right in front of her. “Hey. You’re fine. You used your abilities perfectly.”
A howl of agony sounded from a few feet over, and she whipped her head to see James hit the floor, clutching at his right shoulder as it gushed blood onto the ground. She sucked in a breath at the poor man’s pain. He began calling Jasper’s name without hesitation.
“I have to help him,” she said, shuffling a step forward, but it was too late.
Jasper appeared in front of James and tutted. “That’s going to bleed out.”
James was paler than a Ghost as he looked up at the Devil, his eyes pleading for mercy. “I want to leave. Take me out of here.”
Jasper smiled and reached out his hand in offering.
James gulped, his wound spewing more and more blood. Then with great effort, he clasped the Devil’s hand.
And then there were eleven.
“You have to move,” Blackwell told her. “Other contestants are halfway through already.”
Ophelia took a shaky breath and turned back to the grid.
“Forward two, right two,” Blackwell assessed for her. “Ready?”
She nodded and took off. Her dress was not the easiest thing to move in, and after she cleared the next few squares, Blackwell crouched to grab her hem. He ripped the fabric until it was just above her knees, tossing it away. She felt practically naked, but it made it so much easier to move she didn’t even care.
“Thanks—” she began, but her words were cut off by the jet of water that gushed from the ceiling.
“From the levers Cade pulled,” Blackwell told her. “Each one triggers more obstacles. This trial is all about not giving into gluttony. Excess that you don’t need. And it punishes everyone collectively every time you do.”
She sobered and sprang back into action, nearly slipping on the damp stone beneath her feet, but Blackwell was there to steady her, a firm hand on her waist, a constant presence by her side. Hopefully, the other contestants were too distracted to see him in the brief seconds he was solid.
“Right next,” he said as she jumped across the next blade’s pathway. “Two forward.”
She prepared to follow his directions, but as she counted the swings of the next jump, someone suddenly rammed into her from behind. She hit the ground and Blackwell cursed, not having noticed Eric sneaking up on them.
Ophelia scrambled back to her feet, narrowly clearing the pathway before the saw severed her in half. She spun to see Eric glowering at her on the other side of the pendulum’s trajectory.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she hissed, shoving her soaked hair out of her eyes. The water coming from above hadn’t let up for a second.
“I saw what you just did. Cade was right, you turned invisible,” Eric accused, raising his voice over the noise of the rain. “And you’ve been talking to someone. Someone none of us can see—except I just saw them. They’re helping you. You’re a Demon and you’ve got friends here.”
“I thought we already established this. My blood is red,” she retorted.
“Then it’s a trick,” Eric said. “Either way, I’m going to see to it that your blood spills all over this floor, just to be extra sure. And if I’m wrong, that’s just one less person in this competition, right?”
“Angel, you have to run,” Blackwell told her. “Disposing of him myself will drain too much of my magic at once.”
“Men are always useless,” she growled to them both, half-exasperated, before pivoting and dashing for the next square.
Eric followed her, the chains of his collar clinking as he moved. At least she had that advantage. She moved to the left, and he tried to follow, but his chains pulled taut. Her relief didn’t last long, however, when another one of the pendulums forced her right, back directly in Eric’s reach. She could see the wall of levers just ahead now, the space in front of them clear. She braced herself to jump, but it was too late.
Eric slammed into her again, and she struggled against him for a minute, but he was too strong. Ophelia kept thrashing out with her arms and legs as Eric tried to push her to the ground.
“Forget what I said, I’m going to fucking kill him,” Blackwell snarled as he began to shift into his corporeal state.
But before Blackwell got the chance to lay a hand on Eric, Ophelia managed to twist in Eric’s grip just enough to slam her knee up between his legs; he howled and released her as he hunched forward. She stood and regained her bearings.
There was a saw mid-swing behind her.
She turned to face Eric fully as he regained his composure and straightened himself up. She backed up a step, directly into the path of the pendulum’s downswing. Eric braced himself to lunge.
When he leaped forward, too distracted by his rage to realize the trap she had set, Ophelia let him seize her. And when the blade swung back down, he never saw it coming.
