Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 156728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 522(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 522(@300wpm)
No address. No return. Just her name embossed in gold. On the back, a hand-pressed wax seal in gold with stalk twisted upward around the letters JT.
Her head snapped up when a door on the second floor opened and slammed. Footsteps moved quickly overhead. She stuffed the envelope inside her jacket and rushed upstairs.
The lock to her flat stuck, as it always did. “Come on, you bugger.”
Jiggling the key, she shouldered her way inside, and slammed the door behind her.
She rushed to her bed and sat on the edge, withdrawing the formal envelope from her jacket. She stared in awe at the pristine, filigree calligraphy and rich paper in her work-roughened hands.
They knew it was her. Wrote it in gold ink. Her thumb glided over each letter. Never before had she thought of her name as pretty until seeing it scrolled in metallic gold with letters that slanted and twirled like living vines on a page.
Her thumb slid beneath the wax seal, releasing a satisfying crack. A faint scent she couldn’t name tickled her nose. Something rich and smoky, like expensive things she’d never owned.
Inside, she found a single card.
* * *
You have been selected.
Your presence is requested at The Feast of the Fallen.
To confirm your attendance and receive further instructions, visit:
www.FeastoftheFallen.com
Enter your one-time access password within twenty-four hours:
TheHarvesting
This code will expire.
This invitation will not be extended again.
—J.T.
* * *
Daisy blinked and read it again. The words didn’t change.
You have been selected...
“I won.” Her mouth curved as she stared in shock.
What she won was unclear, but there was a deeply satisfying sense of validation in being chosen for whatever this was.
Daisy glanced at the kitchen clock. The library closed in ten minutes. She preferred not to use her limited data plan, but this invitation expired. Fishing her phone from her bag, she powered it on.
As soon as the search bar appeared, she typed the address. The screen went emerald. Gold filigree bloomed from the edges as vines twisted into scrollwork with a small space prompting her to enter the access code.
She carefully typed: THEHARVESTING
The screen shimmered, dissolving from the glamorous welcome into what looked like a legal agreement of sorts. Daisy frowned as she read the words plastered boldly at the top of the page.
* * *
NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT
* * *
By proceeding beyond this point, you acknowledge and accept the following terms: All information regarding The Feast of the Fallen is strictly confidential. Violation of this agreement will result in immediate legal action and financial penalties not to exceed £10,000,000.
* * *
“Ten million pounds?” Her heart sank as a sharp sense of unease punctured her excitement. Who were these people?
A timer appeared at the top of the screen.
* * *
01:59:47
01:59:46
01:59:45
“Oh, shit.” She had less than two hours before her choice would disappear and the site would likely vanish again.
Not thinking about the consequences, she read on.
Her mouth went dry as she massaged her sore cheek. This wasn’t just about silencing. It was about making sure that whatever happened at this thing they called The Feast stayed buried beneath a mountain of legal terror.
What kind of gathering required this level of secrecy?
Any contract this intense should terrify her. And it did. Nervousness churned in her belly, outdone by her extreme curiosity. What was the worst they could do to her? She had nothing. If they came after her for some sort of violation, they’d be sorely disappointed with the outcome.
Daisy typed her name, her birthdate, and the numbers they asked for, all while watching that timer from the corner of her eye.
“Here goes nothing.” She signed her signature in clumsy digital scrawl. When she clicked ACCEPT, the page dissolved.
* * *
THE FEAST OF THE FALLEN
* * *
Dear Potential Tribute, Please read the following terms in their entirety…
* * *
“Potential tribute?” Words like tribute didn’t stir confidence.
* * *
SECTION I: PAYOUT STRUCTURE
* * *
All confirmed tributes will receive a participation payment of £1,000,000, deposited directly into their designated account upon commencement of The Hunt.
* * *
Tributes who are successfully “captured” by a Hunter during The Hunt will receive an additional bonus of £1,000,000 for each consequential capture. The total potential payout is at the discretion of the participants.
* * *
Her brain short-circuited. For a split second, it looked like she was winning a million pounds—maybe two. She went back to read the legal print again. The words hadn’t changed.
Her heart tripped out of beat. What the fuck was going on? This had to be a joke.
She almost signed out. Almost.
Fingers wedged into her cheek, she massaged the vicious throb radiating from her tooth and read it again with unblinking eyes. This had to be a prank.
* * *
SECTION II: THE SAFEWORD
* * *
All tributes have access to the universal safeword: TIMBER.
If a tribute is unable to speak, the safeword may also be communicated through sign language (the letter T). Use of the safeword will immediately halt all physical interaction with any Hunters present. Tributes will be escorted to a designated safe zone. Use of the safeword forfeits any bonus transaction for that specific encounter.