Chapter 4: The Watched Figure

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Father escorted me inside, tucking my body between his broad chest and arm. I'm sure I looked deranged to the staff members outside. But they did this to me. It's their fault for putting us in such an awful game.

He sat me down at our kitchen table, squeezing my wrist before hurrying outside to escort two men in. Their figures were hunched 'in nature, the left repeatedly rubbing their hands together in anxiety, the right clenching his right wrist, squeezing what seemed to be an expensive watch, and he was oddly near-completely covering its watchface. I couldn't make out what brand it was, but the band looked exquisite.

Father repositioned the table chairs so that there were two adjacent chairs opposite me, before standing with arms crossed behind me. His figure loomed behind me, and felt so powerful and strong. In response, I clenched my hands into a fist, pumping them slightly and nodding once.

I'm going to face this. I repeated the short phrase over and over in my head, turning to face the two figures opposite me.

The watchless figure pulled a thin folder out of a bag he sat near his chair, neatly arranging the files into a pristine, orderly manner. The other figure whispered to the man, pointing at a specific file and nodding. I then saw the left figure pull out a stapler stack of sheets.

The top sheet in this stack contained a photograph of me upon entering the Final Killing Game. 

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