average human’s Reviews > Drop His Mask > Status Update

“Oh, dear, don’t you remember this boy from before? The fighter. John…no wait, Julian.” The woman walked brusquely into the room, heels clicking as she went. She eyed the corpse warily before stopping next to the man. Arms crossing over her chest. “I told you, we should have left him in the bottom level with the patrol guards.”
“Yes, honey, I remember him,” the man answered with a hearty laugh before continuing, “and I know. We were all surprised when he won. But the Sponsor is permitted to decide where they end up. And Ana did sponsor him after all.”
The woman cackled. “That little toy of yours. You better stop talking about her, unless you’re trying to make me jealous.”
The man lowered the gun, turning to the woman and wrapping an arm around her waist. “You will always be the woman by my side.”
The woman remained silent, but there was a fiery hatred in her eyes. This woman despised Nightingale.
In the corner against the wall, Sparrow continued to sob.
“But honey, please go get her a caretaker. I can’t be bothered with the crying,” the man groaned.
“I still don’t understand why we keep this child. We should just sell her off,” the woman grumbled, but walked to Sparrow nonetheless.
“You know exactly why. She’ll be worth more when she’s older.” The man turned his attention back to The Game Warden as the woman scooped Sparrow into her arms.
The Game Warden wanted to stop her. To scream and plead, but he held his tongue. This couple was different. There was a certain aura radiating from them both. They were important, and even more eerily, they were familiar.
Sparrow didn’t fight the woman, she simply allowed her to carry her out of the room. But The Game Warden watched Sparrow the entire way. How Sparrow knew this couple, but not in a good way. She was scared. Terrified into silence.
“You visit with Sparrow?” The Game Warden finally asked.
The man quirked his lips, deep wrinkles forming into a dimple. “I do. For a bit, I thought she might be mine. But it became clear over time that wasn’t the case. Even still, she is worth more than any other person in this place, including myself. I promise she will be kept safe.”
“For now,” The Game Warden added for the man.
The man bellowed a laugh. “You aren’t as stupid as Ana made you out to be.” He cast a look behind him. “Now that the old ball and chain is gone, let’s discuss what this means. You killed our Host. Do you have evidence of what he was going to do?”
“On video.” The Game Warden jerked his head to the camera on the ground. He was no longer stuck in place, but he didn’t want to make any sudden moves.
“Good, that will make this easier.” The man moved towards The Host, nudging him with the tip of his loafers. “To be honest, I never did like him as a host. He wasn’t enthusiastic enough, didn’t listen to us. He was put in place by our predecessors.”
“Who are you?” The Game Warden couldn’t help himself. The curiosity was burning him from the inside out.
“We are called The Creators. It isn’t exactly right. We simply helped to begin Violencia’s games and took over when our predecessors met their untimely demise.”
The Game Warden was shocked that he had deemed to even answer his questions, let alone explain.
“The Creators?” The Game Warden’s fists clenched tightly, his nails digging into the palms of his hands.
“Yes, yes. Our predecessors were considering opening up games for Violencia, but they simply never had the resources. And then, unfortunately, when they did, they were blown up. Nearly four years ago now.”
The Game Warden’s brain vibrated with the dump of information that this man, this Creator was freely giving him. “They were at the Facility.”
The man turned his head, dark brown cloudy eyes meeting his own. “Not nearly as idiotic at all. Correct, they were at the Facility you grew up in, attempting to secure a deal. Now Mr. Julian, I have a proposition for you.”
The Game Warden’s pulse was erratic as he continued to remain still.
Is everything tied together?
“How do I know you?”
The man tutted, stepping back in front of him. “First thing’s first. Are you ready to take over the role of The Host? Will you see to it that the Sponsors are happy and amused? Will you exact the final judgment? Will you be the face of this reality show? Will you be the enforcer, the entertainer, The Host?”
It was exactly as Nightingale had predicted. Every single step he had taken was to lead him here. It felt as if this would be what he needed to finally escape once and for all.
But what would be left of me? How do I become The Host? A sadistic psychopath that meets the players and beams in their faces before sentencing them to their deaths?
But what choice do I have? This is what Nightingale wants, which means eventually it will happen whether I agree or not.
“Yes.”
The man’s free hand came up, grasping The Game Warden’s shoulder reassuringly. It took everything in him not to flinch at the contact. At the familiarity.
The man tucked the gun away before using his other hand to raise the mask. “Good chap, and you might remember me. I do find that anonymity among coworkers only brings forth furthering distrust. Besides, we go way back. You were quite close to the boy we raised.”
The Game Warden shook as the mask lifted. As he understood exactly who the man before him was. Why he had seemed so very familiar.
“You can call me Harold, or if you would prefer, for old-time’s sake, Mr. Roger. And that earlier was my wife, Sharon.”
This can’t be real. How are they here? How are they the Creators?
Shock scraped inside The Game Warden’s gut. No wonder this man seemed so recognizable; he had lived next door to him through his entire childhood. He and his wife had used their adopted son for their own protection in the Facility. Sold the child out and forced him to fight in the pits.
It was how The Game Warden had grown so close to their adopted son.
To Jayce.