This is a mistake, and you know it.

A very bad mistake, perhaps, even the deadlist of them all.

But now that you've managed to steal and successfully enter the Heathens Compound within The King's University, there was no turning back.

You will have to go through it, you will have to gather intel to bring back to the Elites.

Your gaze wandered through the crowd of other students, all wearing the same bunny mask and a wrist tage, as it was given on the entrance to the compound by the two guards that scanned the QR Code that allowed your entrance, while also confistating your phone and bag.

About hundred students line up in five neat rows.

Some completely silent like you, others murmuring and chatting among themselves, words like 'excited', 'can't wait' and 'finally' float in the gloomy air with the energy of a distorted lullaby.

A large forest surrounds the property, but it was all wired, surveilled, and no other soul aside from the Heathens, or whomever they invited, is allowed access.

The casual chatter comes to a halt when the double doors on the top floor swing open and five people dressed in black stroll out onto the balcony.

All eyes focused on them.

Neon Purge-style masks cover their features, each a different color.

Red, green, yellow, and orange.

"Congratulations for making it to the Heathens' highly competitive initiation."

A voice bellows.

"You are the selected elite the leaders of the club think are worthy of joining their world of power and connections.The only difference were the numbers strapped on each mask, each number matching their wrist tag with the respective numbers of their masks."

Well, fuck.

"There are four rows, and the fifth was steadily being filled by the other participants. The price to pay for such privileges is higher than money, status, or name. The reason everyone wears a mask is because you are all the same in the eyes of the club's founders. The price of becoming a Heathen is handling over your life. In a literal sense of the word."

No kidding.

"If you aren't willing to pay that, please exit through the small door to your left. Once you leave, you'll lose any chance to join us again."

A door beside the big gate opens, and exactly ten participants exit with their heads bowed.

The remaining ninety don't move from their spots.

After all, everyone came here with a promise of power and positions that would benefit not only their university life, but also their futures afterwards.

The voice rings out around all participants again, definitely from overhead.

"Congratulations again, ladies and gentlemen. We shall now begin our initiation."

Your attention slides to the four on the balcony—unmovable, silent, and intimidating without having to move a muscle.

"Tonight's game is predator and prey. You'll be hunted down by the club's founding members. That will be five to ninety, so you have the upper hand. If you manage to reach the edge of the property before they hunt you down, you'll be a Heathen. If not, you'll be eliminated and escorted out. The founding members have the right to use any methods available to hunt you down—including violence. If their weapon of choice touches you, you'll be automatically eliminated. Bodily harm can and will happen. The only rule is not taking a life. Not intentionally, at least. No questions are allowed and no mercy shall be granted. We don't need any weaklings in our ranks."

Your attention zeroed on each member's weapon.

Red mask's fingers, Killian's, circle a baseball bat that's resting nonchalantly on his shoulder.

Green mask, Gareth, is holding a bow and has arrows with rubber points in a quiver that's slung over his back.

Orange mask's, Jeremy, gloved hands rest on top of a metal golf club that's propped on the ground.

Yellow mask, Nikolai, has no weapon at all, but his fists are balled.

"You have a ten-minute head start. I suggest you run. The initiation has finally begun."