Heavy sobs wracked her body as she trembled on the floor, holding a hand to her chest. Thick rivulets of redness poured from the various wounds on her body to the floor, pooling around her body like a disfigured snow angel.

Gmie wheeled over, trying to soothe the sad bleeding girl while turning her nose up at us. "Your trailer trash asses can leave our presence now. You can't kill us so disperse," she said, flickering her hand at us like we were annoying peasants.

"Seriously?" Yaz said, tucking her hand into her side. "You still really think you're better than us? Looking like ashy ass Momo?"

"I don't think anything," Gmie said, holding up her chin. "I know I'm better than you people. I could die right now, and my corpse would be better than all of you times ten. You're nothing. If we were on the outside, every single one of you would be kissing my ass and bowing down to me."

"Bowing down — who the fuck do you think you are?" Yaz folded her arms over her chest. "You're not royalty. You're not important. You're just another rich, spoiled heifer who will end up alone, drunk and bitter."

"At least I'll be rich," Gmie shot back. "Unlike you who will die homeless and poor. Your biggest accomplishment in life will be actually making your monthly food stamps last the month."

"And your biggest accomplishment will be not killing yourself when you realize no one on this earth wants you here," Yaz said, narrowing her eyes. "Your own parents didn't even love you, so why would anybody else? They probably sponsored your dumbass because they didn't want to see you anymore. Who wants to look at their biggest failure every day?"

Gmie jerked back, lips thinning. "You—"

"I'm not gonna go back and forth with you hoe," Yaz said, interrupting her. She snatched that weird blade from Khan's hand and bolted over to Gmie.

Eyes popping open, Gmie thrashed her hands out in front of her, trying to block Yaz from cutting her. But instead of trying to injure her, Yaz gripped Gmie's neat hair bun and severed it from her scalp in one slick motion.

"AH!" Gmie screamed while rubbing her jagged hair strands in frantic motions. Soft curly strands drifted down like a gentle snowfall, as she continued freaking out and touching her scalp. "Give it back you—"

"Sure." Yaz stuffed the thick hair down Gmie's mouth, using her fingers to push it deeper into her throat. "How's that?"

Eyes tearing, Gmie flailed around like a fish, coughing, trying to get the hair out.

"I can't hear you?" Yaz said, leaning down as Gmie coughed. "You want to go for a ride? Okay." Putting her heel on the front of the wheelchair seat, Yaz shoved it away with all her might.

Gmie let out a muffled yelp, as the wheelchair sailed down the hall, the wheels emitting a vulgar squeak against the wooden flooring. Arms flopping around like a crash test dummy, she tried to stop herself, but it was too late. The chair spun out of control and crashed into the hall end table, sending Gmie flying into a wall, head first.

Chi skipped over and began doing a cheer routine to the words, "You are a fake loser bitch" over Gmie's groaning body.

Yaz handed the knife back to Khan and wiped her hands on her skirt. "Now that the herpie in the room has been dealt with," she said, turning to Khan. "What the fuck was all that?"

"Is that what you've been planning these last few days?" I asked, standing next to him. "When you'd go to your room?"

"More or less," Khan admitted, making Rucker punch the wall.

"You did the thing I specifically told you not to." Rucker rubbed his stomach with a machete handle. "I swear to god y'all are giving me an ulcer."

Khan turned to Rucker, checking his bandages. "I told you not to leave the base. Moving around like this is going to irritate your wounds and take them longer to heal."

"And you said you weren't going to go off on your own," Rucker said in a hard tone. "I guess we're both idiots."

Khan scratched his chin. "I had a plan, and it worked. We got the internet back, and they're not going to kill us."

"Yes, but it could've backfired," Rucker said, almost shouting.

"Yes, but it was better than sitting around, waiting to maybe die." Khan looked at the ceiling. "I did the odds over the last few days, and it was a fifty-fifty shot that they'd kill us all and start over with a new cast. So, I figured if I gave them a better solution, it would increase our odds of survival. But since they wouldn't talk to me, I started chaos by messing with Demo and Gmie to draw them out, and it worked. They know my background, so I knew they'd listen to me over anyone else. The threat of killing Demo and Gmie was just an extra measure in case they didn't want to hear me out."

"I'm not mad that you did it," Rucker said on a sigh. "I'm mad that you did it by yourself."

"I did it by myself because you need to heal, Betinia's

still emotional healing from her last challenge, Seb's gone, and Yaz is working on her car," Khan said, shrugging his shoulders. "It was easier to do it by myself—"

Rucker stopped him. "Look, we're a team. And the only way we're going to get the fuck out of this shitty place is to work together. What if Jookie was just distracting you long enough for guards to come up behind you and shoot you?"

"That was a twenty—eighty," Khan started, and Rucker cut him off again.

"I don't care about odds," Rucker snapped. "Odds are just fucking odds. Just because it's least likely to happen doesn't mean it won't fucking happen. For being really smart, you're fucking dumb too." He sighed, shaking his head. "I swear I never wanted to start smoking again so bad."

Khan looked down and then up. "You're right. It was dumb. I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Rucker said, rubbing his face. "We all have our faults. I talk too much. You don't ask for help. Betinia overthinks and forgets. Yaz's toes look like Freddy Krueger's skin, but we've—"

"You know what?" Yaz snatched a machete out of his hand and smacked his ass with it.

Rucker hopped across the hall. "Ouch!"

"How's that feel, bitch?" Yaz went to slap him again, but Rucker yanked it out of her hand.

"You tryin' kill me?" Rucker said, glaring.

"No, just maim you a little bit." Yaz gave him a sweet smile before turning to Khan "So, what do we do now? Just wait until the game starts up again?"

"Basically," Khan said, touching his jaw. "Before, they were probably just gonna kill us and cut their loses, but since I gave them my ideas, we probably just have to play the game and hope to survive like before."

"Better than just waiting to die," I said, stopping myself from wobbling in my boots.

Khan watched me, cocking an eyebrow. His eyes dripped down my body like melted wax on skin. "What's your name?"

I laughed inside before answering, voice low. "What do you want it to be?"

Rucker looked between us, confused. "Is this some sort of weird smart people foreplay cause she's dressed like a dollar hooker?"

"Julia Roberts was not a dollar hooker," Yaz said in disbelief. "Have you never seen Pretty Woman?"

"Sounds like a chick-flick, why would I watch it?" Rucker asked.

"Cause it's a fucking classic," Yaz said, flicking him in the ear. "We're watching it tonight as I make ham sandwiches."

"You're really trying to kill my anus, aren't you?" Rucker asked, causing an argument.

They bickered as we all fell in step together, walking back toward the base as a team — the strongest team in the house. But as we passed by Seb's room, a part of me felt like the team wasn't complete.

I paused by his door, about to knock for the umpteenth time when the sound of squeaking feet pulled my attention to the adjacent hall. Peeking over my shoulder, I spotted Fee stomping down the hall, carrying a big trash bag in his hand.

This was the first time I've seen him in days. My gut told me to follow, but I knew Rucker wouldn't let me do it. So, I ran forward, gripping the arguing Yaz back by her blazer.

"We should probably go get the rest of our goodies from Chi's room." I gripped her hand, pulling her down the hall with me.

A look of pure confusion layered Yaz's face, and I gave her a pleading look before she just nodded. "Yeah, I want to go back for that Chanel purse," Yaz said, pulling her hair out of her blazer.

"Why the hell do you need a Chanel bag?" Rucker asked. "Who you tryin' to impress? The hallway?"

"Why do you wear thongs?" Yaz shrugged, making Rucker glare. "They're both mysteries that we'll never solve. Come on, Bet and Khan you're cooking tonight. I want something fancy for Pretty Woman."

"How about Meatball Burgundy with four cheese potatoes with fresh sage rosemary gravy?" Khan asked, making us all stop.

"Uh yeah," Yaz and I said in unison, as Rucker looked like he was about to cry.

Rucker sniffled, holding his hands in a praying gesture with the machetes. "Yess, real food," he said, grabbing Khan's arm. "Go get your purse, and we'll start requesting ingredients. Be careful."

"We all got immunity now. We'll be fine," Yaz said, and then I pulled her toward where I last saw Fee.

She stopped once we were out of earshot. "What's going on?"

"From looking at Jookie's surprised expression earlier, I think the thirteenth contestant definitely exists, and I don't think Chi's helping them. Something's telling me it's Fee." I pointed down the hall. "And he just walked past us in the hall."

"So, you want to follow him and see if he's hiding the thirteenth contestant," Yaz finished, making me nod. "And since he's huge, you didn't want to do it alone."

"When you say it like that, it sounds really dangerous," I said, pausing. "Rucker might be right. It might be too—"

"Rucker might like to be called daddy, but he ain't our daddy," Yaz said, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Let's do this. Fee barely leaves his room, so this is the best time. We might not ever get another chance."

We tiptoed together toward the kitchen. Waiting only a moment, Fee exited the kitchen in a loud huff, and we followed behind him, trying to make our heels sounded as quiet as possible. After the kitchen, he walked around, doing nothing suspicious before entering the laundry room. He left with some soap, still doing nothing suspicious.

"He seems to just be doing basic normal shit," Yaz said, leaning against the wall.

"We need to get into his room," I said, watching him walk in front of us. "If he's helping them, there will be a hole in there somewhere."

"There's no guarantee that he'll let us in though," Yaz said, once we saw him beelining it to his room. "We'll have to push our way in somehow."

"I don't think he knows about the internet being back on," I said. "We can lead with that."

Right when Fee opened his door, Yaz fake stumbled into his back, knocking both of them into his room. "I'm so sorry! I'm so clumsy," she said in a shocked tone.

I followed up in an instant, charging into the room, but I almost fainted when a savage funk punched me in the face. "Oh god," I whispered, as my heels sunk into the muddy ground, fingers clutching my nose for dear life.

His room resembled a straight pigpen. Just chunks of shit and mud everywhere. And animals, mostly pigs, wobbled around, screeching and making noise.

Yaz coughed, trying to breathe through the filth. "We came—"

"Close the door," Fee shouted, as the animals bolted passed me and out the door. He growled and pushed me out of the way to follow them, a look of intense worry coloring his face. "Melon, come back!"

"Nah, girl." Yaz coughed, covering her face. "I can't stay in here. This is all you."

"Just keep him distracted while I look," I said, looking around, slowly regretting my choice.

"Alright." Yaz jogged out of the room and down the hall toward the oinking pigs. "May the force of bleach and Mr. Clean be with you."

Placing my hand over my face, I peered around the filthy room, heels getting stuck in literal shit. How did he live like this? No wonder him and Layla were friends. They had the nostrils of a demonic beast.

Wooden food bins lined the left wall. Bundles of hay littered the adjacent walls, as a dirty muddy mattress sat in the far corner. No sheet or anything. Just a piece of wood for a pillow.

Oh Fee, how did you live like this 24/7?

The odor started to become so foul that tears pricked my eyes, and I had to blink twice as fast or I couldn't see. From my initial glance, nothing seemed too suspicious. Or I could be biased because I wanted to get the hell out of there, but my gut told me to keep looking.

I glanced around the room, seeing nothing but continuous grime. Walking closer to the silver walls, I realized they weren't walls but mirrors. I didn't notice that before because thick mud and fingerprints covered them, giving them a cloudy appearance. Why did he have mirrors for walls? And why was he trying to cover them up? Did he have a phobia of some sort? Or was it part of his secret somehow?

I wiggled my fingers, not wanting to touch the dirty mirrors, but I was on limited time and didn't have a lot of choices. Using my knuckles, I tapped on the various mirrors, hoping maybe one would sound hallow or light or not attached.

Thankfully, the mud on the mirrors were dry, so nothing soiled my hands. While testing each mirror, a loud roar made my heart skip, body freezing in place like a statue.

"Get back here, Melons," Fee shouted, as I heard him running toward his room.

"ECK! Why are there pigs here?' Chi shouted before screaming.

"Aww you're such a cute whittle piggy," Yaz cooed, and then I heard something crash. "Oops. Fee, she got scared by something and went the other way."

I heard his heavy footsteps stop immediately and go the other way, away from his room. "I love you so much, Yaz," I whispered, hearing his footsteps move further from the room as I continued testing the walls.

In the far corner, a bunch of muddy bags lined the corner, and I tripped over them, falling into the mirror there. I cursed, getting wet mud on my face.

Wiping it off, I shivered and breathed, trying to contain myself and not run from the room. I started to test the next mirror but stopped and looked at the fresh mud on my hands. Every other mirror had dry mud on it, except that one. Why would that be?

Because he'd been touching it more than the others for some reason. Probably to keep letting someone in and out. I tapped it a bit harder, hearing it jiggle. That's when I knew it wasn't glass like the others, but plastic like those fake mirrors you get as a child.

I kicked the bags out of the way to get a better look, hearing something plop and roll on the floor. It hit me in the foot. A lipstick tube. Pink. Sniffing it, a strawberry scent hit me.

This could only mean one thing. Fee was involved with Layla's killer. A bit of sadness fluttered through me, thinking about how Layla liked him, yet he did her so dirty. I kind of wanted to be wrong. I liked Fee.

I looked into him because of Khan. Not you. I am.

Touching the false mirror, my nails traced along the muddy surface, getting to the edge of it and lifting up. It came out almost perfectly, and I placed it against another mirror.

Underneath the false wall was white plaster, but at the bottom, near the molding, was a hole — a human-size hole.

"What are you doing?" Fee snapped in the hallway, voice filling the hall like a hoard of wasps. Anger laced every word.

I needed to check on Yaz.

Okay? She's more important.

"Don't hurt, Melons," Fee yelled, running down the hall again.

"Sorry, just trying to help," Yaz said, somewhere in the hall with him. "I can't get her, she's too slippery."

Alright, but only if you go away.

Wait, should I wait for my team?

was right. I hated when was right.

I wrinkled my nose and got to my knees on the poopy ground, trying to think of bunnies and bleach. Inhaling deep, I stuck my head into the tight dark hole, crawling through the muck and grime to get to the unknown.

♟♙♟