nine | 09.

THE MANIAC'S FINALE.

"You weren't supposed to be there." the maniac said flatly. He took another step toward her, the gap between them now almost nonexistent.

A brief surge of satisfaction welled up inside her. He hadn't expected her to fight for Josh, hadn't expected her to go after him to try and console him when he when he was upset. Good. He had miscalculated.

"What will you do with them?" She asked, nodding toward Chris and Ashley, their unconscious forms lying crumpled on the floor.

She wasn't sure why she asked—part of her didn't want to know the answer. But stalling him, keeping him talking, was all she had left.

The maniac turned his head slightly, surveying them, before slowly turning his attention back to her. His gaze was unwavering, as though calculating what he should reveal.

"It'll all be over soon." He said, his voice dripping with a sinister calm that made Cameron's skin crawl. "The big finale is coming up."

Her blood ran cold at his words. The finale. What did that mean? Was this some kind of sick game, one with an end she hadn't yet seen coming?

"Well." She muttered, sniffing and wiping her nose with her sleeve, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "Let's get this over with. Gas me, or whatever. Just don't punch me."

If she was going out, she was going out on her terms.

For a moment, there was silence between them, the air thick with tension. Then, to her surprise, the maniac let out a low laugh. But before she could react, the gas filled her lungs, and the world around her went black.

_________________

    When Cameron came to, the pain was overwhelming. Her head throbbed, and her limbs felt heavy as if weighed down by lead. She blinked, trying to adjust to her surroundings, but her vision was blurred, her senses dulled.

    Where the hell was she?

    She tried to move, but her body was restrained, her torso strapped tightly to a wooden support beam. Her wrists were tied behind her back, and the more she struggled, the more she realized the futility of it. The bindings were too tight.

    In front of her, she saw Chris and Ashley, both seated in chairs across from one another, their left hands bound just as tightly.

    Between them was a table, and on top of it—a gun. Her stomach dropped as she noticed the blinking red light of a camera pointed directly at them, recording everything.

    "I'm sorry..." Chris said. His eyes were locked on Ashley, his expression twisted in pain. "I should have told you how I felt... before."

    Cameron rolled her eyes, her frustration bubbling over despite the dire situation. "Hate to break the mood," she drawled, trying to sit up straighter against the beam, "but I think we've got bigger problems to deal with right now!"

    Chris and Ashley's heads snapped toward her, their expressions shifting from surprise to relief. "Cam!" Ashley breathed out. "You're awake... we thought... we thought he'd done something worse to you."

    Cameron shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Nope, still alive. Can't say the same for you two if we don't figure whatever this is out."

    Before any of them could say more, the sound of a saw blade descending from the ceiling filled the room, the metallic whirring growing louder with each passing second. The sight made Cameron's heart skip a beat—this was it.

    The maniac's voice crackled through a hidden speaker, his tone sickeningly gleeful.

    "Hello there, my special little subjects."

    Ashley's scream cut through the air, her body trembling with terror. "Chris, I'm so scared!"

    The maniac chuckled, his voice a haunting echo in the confined space. "Oh, you should be, Ash. Because here's the twist: Chris has made one fatal choice already today, and now he must make another."

    Cameron's mind spun. Another choice? This was like Josh's trap all over again, the twisted game forcing them to choose who would live and who would die.

Her eyes flicked from the blinking red light of the recording camera to the gun sitting ominously on the table between Chris and Ashley. Something felt off.

Her instincts screamed at her that there was a puzzle she hadn't quite solved yet, a piece of the maniac's twisted game that none of them had put together. The answer hovered just out of reach, lingering on the edge of her mind.

The maniac's obsessive behavior, the elaborate traps—he had planned all of this meticulously, but why? The question gnawed at her.

Why them? Why go to such extremes to manipulate them, to force them into these horrific choices? The maniac had been stalking them, watching them for God knew how long, but there had to be more to it than just sadism.

Was he testing their loyalty, their willingness to sacrifice one another? But then why did the maniac care who Chris chose to save? Why did he manipulate the track to specifically kill Josh if he had everyone his hit list simultaneously. It didn't add up.

Cameron pressed her head back against the wooden beam, the rough surface digging into her scalp as she struggled to think.

She replayed every encounter with the psycho in her mind, trying to catch something she might have missed—a subtle clue, a hint of the deeper purpose behind the madness.

But nothing connected. Every time she thought she was close to figuring it out, the answers slipped away like sand through her fingers.

The blinking light of the camera continued to taunt her. It wasn't just about survival; the maniac was waiting for something, a response, a reaction.

Was he hoping to break them, to make them turn on one another? That was the only explanation that made sense, but even that felt incomplete. There had to be more.

The maniac's voice boomed from the hidden speakers, wrenching her out of her thoughts. "You can take that gun in front of you and shoot Ashley, or you can shoot yourself. Whoever is left can live! The choice is yours."

Cameron's heart sank as the maniac delivered the ultimatum. Here they go again. Another impossible decision, another moment where one life was pitted against another.

Chris wasted no time. He snatched up the gun and without hesitation, he aimed it at the saw blades above their heads and fired twice, the deafening sound of gunfire shattering through the room.

Cameron flinched as she watched the bullets tear into the machinery.

But the saws didn't stop.

Instead, the maniac's deranged laughter filled the room, bouncing off the walls in a cacophony of sound that sent chills racing down Cameron's spine. He's watching us. It wasn't a recording this time. The psycho was here, somewhere, watching them struggle, reveling in their panic. But where?

"Wait! Stop! You can't do it, Chris—it should be me!" Ashley's words came out in a rush, her eyes wide with fear as she pleaded with him. "You chose to save me before. Let me choose this time! Let me choose to save you!"

Chris' hand shook violently as he raised the gun again, this time pressing the barrel to his temple. His eyes squeezed shut, his jaw clenched so tightly Cameron could see the muscles in his neck straining.

"I'm sorry, Ash." He whispered. The saw blades were so close now, the high-pitched whirring filling the room like the ominous ticking of a clock counting down to their doom.

Cameron sucked in a sharp breath, closing her eyes, her entire body tensing as she braced for the inevitable.

Ashley lunged forward, her voice breaking with panic. "Chris, no! Don't—please don't!" Tears streaked her face as he pulled the trigger.

Cameron's heart pounded in her ears, the tension of the moment finally breaking as a wave of confusion swept over her.

    Chris was alive.

    She blinked, her breath hitching in her throat as she took in the sight of Chris, his face drenched in sweat, lowering the gun from his temple. He was alive. She'd been certain that—

    "What the fuck..." Chris wheezed, staring at the gun in disbelief, his chest heaving as if he couldn't quite comprehend what had just happened.

    His eyes flicked from the gun to Ashley. The gun had been loaded, right? She could've sworn they were about to lose him.

    Before she could process it any further, the door to the room burst open, and she looked toward it to find Sam and Mike storming into the room.

    "Sam? Mike?" Cameron called out, her voice laced with disbelief. Relief surged through her—she had never expected to see them again.

    But her mind instantly raced with questions. If Mike was with Sam, where was Jess? Had something happened to her? And how had Sam ended up with Mike?

    "Cam?" Mike rushed toward her and without a second's hesitation, he knelt down to undo her bindings. The ropes fell away from her wrists, and Cameron groaned as she flexed her stiff, aching arms, rubbing at the red marks the bindings had left behind.

    Mike pulled her to her feet, his grip steadying her when her legs nearly gave out beneath her.

    "What the hell are you all doing down here?" Mike asked, his voice tight with concern as he glanced over the room, taking in the nightmarish scene—the saw blades, the gun, Chris and Ashley still strapped to their chairs.

    "We were looking for Sam, but then the maniac found—" Cameron began, the words tumbling out of her in a breathless rush. She wanted to explain the traps, the mind games, the impossible choices.

    But before she could finish, a distorted voice cut through the air, sending a fresh wave of dread coursing through her veins.

    "Oh, Chris, Chris, Chris." The maniac's mocking tone slithered out of the shadows, making Cameron's skin crawl. She whipped her head toward the source of the voice, her muscles tensing instinctively.

    Out of the darkness, the maniac emerged, his presence dominating the room as he slowly stepped forward, closer to them all.

Cameron's blood ran cold as she backed away, retreating. Mike shifted in front of her, his frame a protective barrier between her and the psycho.

    Stay calm, stay calm. But how could she, when they were still in the presence of a monster?

    The maniac's steps were slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment. His cold, mechanical voice carried through the room, taunting them. "You've heard of blanks before. I mean really?"

    The words hit like a punch to the gut. Blanks? That's why the gun hadn't gone off. That's why Chris was still sitting there alive.

    It had all been another cruel trick, another manipulation, and Cameron couldn't believe they'd fallen for it.

    Her mind raced, barely able to comprehend the insanity of the situation when suddenly, the maniac reached up. His hands gripped the edges of his mask, his fingers digging into the rubbery material as he peeled it away.

    Cameron's world tilted on its axis as the man beneath the mask was revealed. She felt like the room was spinning, her grip tightening on Mike's shirt as she leaned against him to stop herself from collapsing.

    Josh.

    Her mind blanked, and for a moment, she thought her vision had betrayed her. It couldn't be him. Josh had been dead. She had seen him killed, his body broken and bloody.

    She couldn't breathe, couldn't think.

    Josh was alive. He had been alive this entire time, watching them and playing puppet master to their worst fears.

    Cameron's fingers tightened in Mike's shirt as her heart pounded painfully in her chest. How? How could he do this to them, to his own friends?

    Her brain struggled to reconcile the kind, broken Josh she had known with the man who had orchestrated their suffering.

    She swallowed hard, her mouth dry as she blinked rapidly, trying to push the disbelief away. But there was no escaping the truth standing before her. Josh wasn't a victim—he was their tormentor.

END OF CHAPTER IX.