The tree, this grotesque, twisted entity, was begging for release from its torment. My heart nearly stopped as the implications sank in. The notion horrified me beyond comprehension. How could something like this exist? What twisted reality was I now trapped in?

The tree's branch tightened its grip on my cuffed arm while its roots constricted my ankle. During the entire struggle, the tree's horrifying moans of agony filled the air.

"Kill... me," it rasped again. The words dripped with the sticky sound of sap and suffering.

Terror and empathy warred within me.

I had to escape this living nightmare, but the sight of the tormented entity was etched onto my mind and heart, preventing me from acting. The weight of the blade in my free hand felt heavier than before. Again, I faced a choice burdened with moral consequences.

Summoning my courage, I yelled, "I can't help you!" Tears welled in my eyes as I lifted the blade and hacked at the taut branch and root. The tree's tortured wails amplified with each strike. A symphony of agony no one should ever hear.

Finally, the branch and root gave way, releasing me from its grip. I stumbled backward, panting, and shaken. The tree convulsed violently, its cries growing louder, more anguished.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, tears threatening to spill over. I was at a loss on how to end its suffering, even if I wanted to. The weight of the blade in my hand was a somber reminder of the choices I had to make in this hellish game.

Somewhere nearby, the Witch's high-pitched cackle rang out, a piercing alarm that sent shivers down my spine. It was as if the howling of the trees had acted as a malevolent beacon, guiding her straight to my location.

Fear surged through me like wildfire. The sense of being hunted, of being the prey in this sick game, intensified with every echo of her chilling laughter.

I turned and fled, leaving the tortured tree behind. Its cries haunted me as I plunged deeper into the heart of the twisted forest.

Adrenaline surged, and my instincts screamed at me to move, to find the shelter of a safe zone, to escape the clutches of the terrifying forest. The woods seemed to awaken with an eerie energy, conspiring against me. Every rustle and crackle sounded like a cruel insult.

My feet carried me swiftly through the haunting wilderness, desperately seeking any refuge from this nightmare.

The Witch's laughter grew louder, drawing closer.

Then, a glimpse of hope—a weathered shack that looked like the previous safe zone that housed the tainted apples. The glow of the yellow light within seeped through the outline of the door highlighting it in the dark.

I hurriedly opened the door, careful to survey the small space before stepping inside. Once within, I swiftly secured the wooden lever on the door that acted as a lock.

The walls inside were adorned with wooden panels weathered by time. In one corner, a modest stack of individually wrapped protein bars were neatly arranged, offering sustenance in a confined space.

A flat-screen TV was securely anchored against the opposite wall, an odd blend to the simple and worn surroundings. The flickering screen held the promise of a distraction with a glimpse of the outside world in this cramped space.

In the far corner sat a basic toilet. Beside it, a small stack of folded paper towels provided a means for hygiene.

I tried to settle inside the shack, but the flickering light bulb suspended from the ceiling cast an eerie dance of shadows on the worn wooden walls. Upon examining the individually wrapped protein bars more closely, I hesitated, contemplating whether to even consider inspecting them.

But as I ultimately decided to stash a few in the top of my suit, using it as a makeshift pocket, the TV suddenly came to life with a crackle, casting a blue hue across the room. The screen displayed a logo, the emblematic insignia for Grimm Games.

Seconds later, the pale face of the host, Chuck Gillian, appeared on the screen. His voice resonated through the small shack, filling the space with a sense of foreboding.

"Ladies and gentlemen, dear viewers from across the country, welcome to a very special season of Grimm Games—season fifteen! We've been on an incredible journey, and this time, we've spiced things up. We've introduced twists and turns that we're sure you'll all love. Get ready for unparalleled excitement and heart-pounding action like never before!"

As the host paused, the studio audience erupted in applause and cheers, filling the air with a cacophony of excitement. The anticipation in the room was intense, a thrilling atmosphere that marked the start of a bleak journey.

When I had awakened on the floor of the enchanted forest, it was a week before the scheduled start of the Games. Although what I was seeing was likely recorded from an earlier broadcast, the fact that the Games had officially begun made me wonder how long those apples had kept me asleep.

"Before we dive into the heart-pounding action, I must share with you all the thrilling twists we've crafted for this season of the Grimm Games. Season fifteen is special, indeed!" The host's voice was charged with excitement, mirrored by the buzz in the audience.

"To ensure the utmost entertainment for our cherished audience we've pushed the boundaries. This year, we've tested our contestants in challenging pre-show trials, handpicking the best of the best for your viewing pleasure!"

The crowd erupted in cheers, appreciating the dedication to an enthralling spectacle.

I stared at the screen as his revelation sunk in. All the hell we've experienced up to this point had been part of a pre-show trial.

"Our standards have been elevated, demanding more resilience and wit from our competitors. And as a result, we've seen extraordinary performances, but also, we must acknowledge the inevitable losses."

A hushed seriousness fell over the room as the host continued, "Regrettably, we've lost two contestants during these pre-show trials, and while their names won't be revealed here, their memory will be honored in the archives of the Grimm Games. Their exits were, as we say in showbiz, too pitiful for TV."

The audience gasped and whispered in anticipation. The air seemingly thick with the raw drama of the Games.

And here I thought all televised deaths were ratings grabbers. So, I was wrong? The Games had...standards?

"But let us not dwell on the past. We've brought in replacements and the remaining six contestants are a testament to resilience and the undying spirit of survival. They are ready to face what's to come, and we are too, as we embark on this electrifying journey!"

The energy in the room soared and the crowd roared in agreement, eager for the Games to unfold.

It made my stomach churn in knots.

"Let us unveil the exceptional contestants and their survival scores. These scores are a testament to their mettle and how they've fared through the trials and tribulations. They'll assist you in determining who deserves your wagers when placing your bets. Are you ready for this?" The host's voice was charged with excitement.

A clip of Sonya engaging in combat with a fifty-pound rat in the straw area played onscreen, accompanied by intricate graphics showcasing her skills.

"First up is Sonya Torres the Babysitter with an impressive score of eight out of ten due to her drive and speed in which she's been completing the pre-show challenges."

He continued, introducing Tobias and I with a score of five each. Millie had a score of seven, and my attention piqued with the introduction of a set of brothers we had yet to meet, Spencer Jeffery the Fixer and Dylan Jeffery the Sick.

But as the producers' obvious highlight played onscreen again—Millie rescuing me from the clutches of the Big Bad Wolfman—all I wanted was confirmation that she was okay.

I hated the secrets and being separated from my sister, but only Mother Holle could set things straight.

I searched around the space for a camera, a glaring reminder that we were never truly alone, not even in what should be private moments. "Let me speak to Ms. Holle," I demanded. "I know you can hear me and see me. I need Ms. Holle now. She lied to me."

Recalling how she interfered in the trivia game after we pointed out the lack of transparency around the rules, it was obvious she wielded immense power in this twisted game.

I yanked at the tracker on my collar, venting my frustration into the button as if it were a microphone. "Ms. Holle lied to me. She lied about the game." My collar had to be recording us. How else had they captured the private conversation Millie and I whispered to each other before they revealed it to the Torres siblings?

When nothing happened, I let my panic and outrage overtake me. Surely, this display of emotion would get someone's attention. I grabbed the nearest item and tossed it across the room, the protein bars, the towels. Not satisfied, I tried pulling the TV from the wall. "She lied!" I shrieked.

"Enough." That distinctive voice made me pause, and soon I was staring at the face of Mother Holle on the TV screen. "If you're done throwing a temper tantrum, we can talk about the so-called lies."

"Where's my sister?"

"Your sister is playing the Game as you should." The white hairs at her temples attracted my gaze, and her even brown skin tone contrasted against the sterile white walls behind her that resembled a medical facility. "Speaking of rules, your instructions were to kill the Witch. You have yet to complete that objective."

"I'm not killing anyone or anything."

"Well, you've signed up for the wrong game." Her stern demeanor and lack of emotion grated on my nerves. "According to the rules and the contract you signed, you will participate. You know what happens if you don't. Your death will become a spectacle."

"I won't move an inch until I see my sister," I declared, my gaze intense. "You promised we'd face this together. I didn't sign up for a bunch of mind games and isolation. I'm only here for her and tearing us apart wasn't in the agreement."

"I've said it once and I don't enjoy repeating myself." Her tone grew stern. "I make the rules, and your contract grants me the liberty to alter them as I see fit. If you want to witness the conclusion of this game, you better engage, or you'll face a fate far beyond mere death. You've already seen what happens to troublemakers and those who disrupt."

I narrowed my eyes in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"The apple trees."

"What happened to the trees? What did you do to them?" I was almost afraid to ask.

"Science holds immense power." Her expression remained stoic, sending a cold shiver down my spine. "And if you refuse to play, what was done to them will be done to you. Years of agony in exchange for your defiance. Is that how you envision your future?"

The idea of those trees not only being sentient but once human, filled me with dread. I yearned for Millie and our escape from this place more than ever.

"I want my sister back—"

"Play the game."

Infuriated with being dismissed, I growled through clenched teeth, "I hope Jade sees this and shuts this whole thing down!"

"Oh, your girlfriend Jade?" Finally, a sinister smile crept across her lips, the first sign of emotion. "We made sure Jade is in good hands."

"Wait..." My eyes widened with fear and my heartbeat tripled. "What do you mean? What did you—?"

"Play the game." The TV went black, and Mother Holle was gone.

"Hey!" I hit the screen with my palm, hoping to see her face appear again. "Wait, come back. What does that mean?"

I had so much to say and so many questions I needed answers to, but not being able to direct my rage towards her left me fuming and unsatisfied.

Furious, I fisted my blade and struck it against the screen, leaving severe damage while imagining her grinning face on the other side of the fractured glass.

"Play the game?" I hissed, fueled by a fury that had been building within me. I clenched the blade so hard the pain of the molded grip felt cathartic. "I'll play the damn game."

Where was Millie? Was Jade in danger?

My chest heaved as I turned to leave the claustrophobic hut and search for Millie. As I slowly unlocked the door, I pulled it open to see the Witch standing on the other side eagerly waiting.