The sky was a suffocating black, the moon barely peeking through the heavy clouds. Y/N stood frozen at the gates of the abandoned Blackthorn Hotel, her heart pounding. The building loomed over her like a monster waiting to devour its prey.
She didnât want to be here.
Her bulliesâsix people who had made her life hellâhad tricked her into coming. They called it a âgame,â but she knew better. They always found new ways to torment her.
This time, though, something felt different.
The air was too still. The hotel, despite being abandoned for years, felt alive.
As the rusted gates creaked shut behind them, she felt it. A presence. Watching. Waiting.
And then, the game began.
The Rules of the Dead
The entrance hall was grand yet decayed. Dust covered the chandeliers, and the scent of mildew clung to the air. The walls were lined with old paintingsâportraits of a man wearing a crown, his hollow eyes seeming to follow them.
A sudden whisper made Y/N shudder.
âWelcome, players.â
The voice was deep, commanding, yet oddly soothing. It came from nowhere yet echoed everywhere.
A large mirror at the center of the hall shimmered, and words began to carve themselves onto the glass:
Rules of the Game
1. Only one may leave.
2. The King will choose his bride.
3. No one escapes the King.
Her bullies laughed. They thought it was a joke.
But then, the first death happened.
The First Death
A scream tore through the air.
Jake, the loudest of her bullies, had wandered off alone. His cocky voice turned into terrified shrieks. The group rushed to find himâonly to see his body suspended in mid-air, impaled on an unseen force. His limbs twisted at unnatural angles before his entire body was dragged into the shadows.
Blood smeared the walls.
Y/N felt a cold shiver run down her spine. Something was truly hunting them.
The others panicked, scrambling for an exit. But the doors wouldnât budge. The windows, though broken, led only to endless darkness.
They were trapped.
The King's Game
One by one, her tormentors fell.
Samanthaâs skin turned to stone, her face frozen in horror.
Daniel screamed as hands reached from the floor, dragging him into the abyss.
Lily ran, only to be caught in a web of thorns that grew from the walls, piercing through her flesh.
Noah tried to break a window but was ripped apart by invisible claws.
Rachel, the cruelest of them all, begged for her lifeâonly to have her reflection step out of the mirror and drag her inside, sealing her fate forever.
Y/N was the only one left.
And then⦠she saw him.
The Phantom King
From the darkness, he emerged.
Tall, regal, with an aura of power. His eyesâdeep and hauntingâlocked onto hers. His presence was suffocating yet intoxicating.
âYou are the only one left,â he murmured, stepping closer.
She should have run. Should have fought. But she didnât.
He reached out, his cold fingers brushing her cheek. âNo one has ever loved you. They threw you into the fire and expected you to burn.â
She trembled. Because it was true.
âBut I will not let you burn,â he whispered. âYou belong to me now, my bride.â
The shadows coiled around her, wrapping her in his embrace.
For the first time in her life, someone wanted her. Not as a joke. Not as a victim. But as something precious.
And so, when the door finally creaked open⦠she did not leave.
She stayed.
With him.
Forever.
The Bride of the King
The Blackthorn Hotel still stands, abandoned yet untouched. Those who wander too close hear whispersâof a girl laughing softly, of a deep voice calling her name.
Some say she was never real.
Others say she became the new queen of the damned.
But one thing is certain.
No one ever leaves the King.