Hey guys! I'm SO sorry for the long wait between chapters and for not answering comments :( I have a lot of family issues going on at the moment, but I mapped out the next several chapters, so updates will be coming out regularly again like every Friday/Saturday and I'm going to start answering comments tomorrow XD

Also, HOLY SHIT, GUYS! Battle of the Killers literally went from #700 in Horror to #2, and from 80k views to over 100k in like a month. Like WHAT? HUH? I really couldn't believe it. I literally cried for like an hour. You should've seen my boyfriend trying to calm me down haha :)

Thank you SO much, guys, for going on this journey with me and Betinia for the past two years. When I started this story, I never even thought it would get 1k views let alone 100k views, and it's all because of you guys, my amazingly awesome readers.

Thank you for always reading every chapter, following me and for commenting and making me laugh and voting and just loving my weird ideas and imagination. I hope I can continue entertaining you and making you proud in 2020. Love you all

♟♙♟

A sacred bond that connected two people. That's the key to a happy life, right?

I found the whole trust concept a bit funny because how could you really trust another person? You don't know what they're really thinking or what their true motives are.

Betinia kept screaming at me to trust my team. I couldn't. I liked them, sure. But people had to earn my trust, especially now with Layla's killer(s) still slinking around like a white wolf in a flock of swans.

You'd think after that little love nibble I left on their ankle that they'd be easy to find.

I spent the last three weeks looking and still nada.

The first five days were literally just me healing in bed, but I was always waiting and watching — stalking my team like a broke horny virgin in a strip club.

Of course, all that spying backfired in my face like a fart in an elevator because Rucker swore he saw me checking out his booty while cooking and proceeded to have a "talk" with me about seeing me as only a sister and blah blah blah — I shut that shit down asap.

I'd rather have anal sex with the crypt keeper in the silence of the lamb's dirt pit with no lube than hook up with Rucker. Not because he was ugly or something, but because I only had brotherly and murderous thoughts toward him.

Anyway, after that fiasco, he finally wore shorts the one day, and I got to cross him off. Yaz too. Not that I suspected either of them, anyway. Neither of them seemed like the pig fetish type.

Not gonna lie but I was definitely checking out Khan. He liked to walk around in a towel after his shower sometimes, saying airdrying was good for the skin. Don't know if that's true or not, and a bitch didn't care. That ass was nice and hard. Him not being Layla's killer was just a bonus.

That left only one person to clear on my team. . Betinia, who should be fucking resting, but always finding a way to pop in unexpectedly, kept pleading his innocence like a junkie asking for money.

But I wouldn't believe it until I saw his undamaged ankle. Plus, lately, it felt like something was... off or different about him. Maybe it was the freak in me, but I could sense something – something lingering on the surface of him, and it damn sure wasn't innocence.

Not like Betinia would agree with me.Rucker did, of course. His distaste for Seb reminded me of how vegans must feel about hunters, and he never hid it.

"I'm telling you, there's something off about Mr. Nutter Butter." Rucker flicked his head back, causing smooth strands to drift across his eyelashes as he held the bulky punching bag between his hands. "I'm sure of it."

I wiped the sweat from my face with a glove-wrapped hand, the soft plastic scratching my forehead as I leaned against the gym wall. "Are you?"

"Anyone who looks like they finger themselves with mayo is an enemy in my book."

Snorting, I moved under the ceiling vent, letting the flow of cold air dry my sticky body before standing in front of the hanging bag again. "He seems more like a ranch type guy," I said with a laugh.

You guys are SO mean! I was! I just popped in to see if you were behaving. Just because you haven't seen his ankle?

UH maybe he can UH sense that YOU DON'T LIKE HIM?Yeah, okay. And lest not forget that you've been acting like a COMPLETELY different person. We might've scared him. Did you give him a chance to get to know you? No, you just immediately thought he was guilty, and he probably senses that negative energy and just wants to avoid it. there are other suspects — Aries, Gmie, Demo. Hell, there could be two killers, so it could literally be anyone.

Rucker snapped his fingers in front of my face. "You there?" he asked. "Wanna take a break?"

"No. I'm good." I stood back and nodded to the bag. "Grab it. I got this."

He gripped it and I started wailing punches on it, each one harder than the next. "Too slow. Too slow. Too slow. Gotta be quicker than that, turkey thighs," he said, holding the bag like my hits didn't faze him.

"Big talk coming from a man who wears women thongs," I said, feeling my muscles scream but that just fueled me to push harder and faster.

Rucker frowned, eyes darkening. "How do you know about that?"

A dark chuckle zipped from my throat and did a sharp jab at the bag, wanting to make him stumble. But his stubborn ass stayed rooted in place, a scowl growing on his face from my last comment.

I continued on, trying to accomplish my goal as my thoughts drifted to Betinia and then Seb. Was I really not giving him a chance?

I have been in full-on Tini mode for the last three weeks, which was the longest time I've ever been out in like eight years. Surprisingly, everyone's been mostly accepting.

Rucker and I got close as shit. Yaz too. Khan and I were the same as before I think, but he stared at me a lot more. Like he's trying to analyze me, figure me out, which was expected.

Sebastian completely distanced himself. I guess I couldn't blame him. I did do a major personality change in a small amount of time. Maybe I should give him a chance?... . Not until I saw his ankle. No matter what Betinia said, I wouldn't let him close to me until I knew.

Betinia could be the dumb bitch in the horror movie all she wanted, but while I was out and aware, I was the final girl, and I was surviving this shit and getting the fuck home.

"Harder," Rucker chanted as I continued jabbing the heavy bag.

A swift sigh poured from my sticky lips as I punched with all my might, feeling every movement in my core and back. Thick droplets of sweat dripped down my face and body, stinging my eyes and salting my tongue.

"Back on Seb," Rucker said through my hits. "We really need to start looking into him."

"You sure you're not being bias because you hate him?" I asked, winding up a punch and putting more than half my strength into it. The bag creaked and jumbled, but Rucker held on like it was nothing. Fucker.

He grinned at my frustrated expression and tossed the bag at me hard. "I'm never bias. I just use my gut. And my gut's saying something's off about that fucker."

I twirled in a three-sixty circle and spiked it back with a loud huff, muscles shrieking at me to slow down. But I didn't listen as Rucker cackled at me, knowing it would egg me on.

For the last two and a half weeks, Rucker's been training me, but he wasn't like most trainers who encouraged or motivated you. He did the opposite — talked mad shit and laughed at me, which made me want to hurt his ass even more.

"You got to admit that's he's been pulling away from us," he said. "Maybe he's Layla's killer. No one knew where the hell he was when you were attacked."

"Everyone has their breaking point," I said, lying as I did a light punch on the bag. "Maybe the game's just finally getting to him."

You're finally coming to your senses. It's not him.

"Or he's the killer and he's slowly trying to kill us all," Rucker said, bringing me from my thoughts and pushing the bag at me again.

Elbowing it back, I started thrashing and weaving, every hit making more perspiration drip down my back. "Nah, I think it's me. I've changed, and he's having a hard time dealing with it."

"Change or not. We're a team," Rucker said, grabbing the bag and holding it. "And real friends like you whether you change or not."

"Aww," I said through heavy pants. "You should work for Hallmark."

"Haha," he said with a sneer as he threw the bag back at me, and I was too tired to dip, and it knocked me in the head. "Gotta do better than that, kankles."

I glowered at him and went back in. We went back and forth for a bit more with him holding the bag and me pounding it like a meat cleaver on a steak.

"Whoa, girlie," he said, dodging my incoming blow by jumping to the side. The bag slammed against the wooden wall, cracking a scone and leaving a dent, glass spraying everywhere.

Rucker arched a brow at me and smirked. "Angry, much?" He cocked his head to the side. "Or are you sexually frustrated from looking at all this," he said, touching his abs.

The back of my hand wiped a pool of sweat from my upper lip as I glared. "For the millionth time, I was doped up on painkillers. I was not checking you out."

"You know you wanna throw your panties at me every time I walk in a room."

"I'd rather be forced to watch Hilter porn while I masturbated with a spiked dildo."

"Ouch." He clutched his chest. "I was kidding. You really know how to cut a man deep, dontcha?" He grinned. "I know Khan's the one you be lookin' at."

A bright grin hugged my lips. "And you're not checking out Yaz?"

He coughed and stepped back. "Of course not. We're teammates."

"You can fuck your teammates, you know." I punched the bag lightly. "And Yaz doesn't look like the type to get attached if that's what you're worried about."

"I ain't." He scratched the back of his neck and then grabbed the bag in mid-air. "I've been too busy training your ass to try to get ass."

I pursed my lips. "Oh really?"

"Yeah," he said in a hard tone. "But I think we got you back in shape a bit. You're still not completely there yet though."

"What?" I jerked my head, massaging my aching arm. "I've been working out for like fifteen hours a day for over two weeks now. I think I'm pretty good now."

"You're alright," he said. "You've come a long way. Two weeks ago, you couldn't even do twenty minutes."

"Getting drilled by the devil and eating grass for two weeks will do that to you."

"I'll take that as a compliment," he said. "And my meals aren't grass. It's called eating vegetables."

"Lettuce is a vegetable. Romanesco is not," I said with a hand on my hip. "I can barely even pronounce it let alone eat it. It taste like cow ass."

"Okay?" Rucker shrugged. "It's healthy. And you need to keep eating that and kohlrabi for a couple of more weeks before we do our plan."

"Ah fuck no." I folded my arms. "I'm not putting any more foods I can't pronounce in my mouth for another two weeks. No way."

"Do you think I became a killing machine by eating junk food? By eating twinkies?"

"Don't you dare come for twinkies. Twinkies are good as fuck. Have you tried them deep fried with some ice cream and jelly? Fucking mind-blowing."

"That's beside the point," he said shaking his head at me. "Before my lifestyle plan, you weren't even in shape enough to kill a pregnant cockroach. Now you can exercise for hours on end. Thanks to me."

For the first three days after I woke up, I literally binge-watched Rick and Morty and South Park while pigging out on junk food and watching Yaz work her ass off to get McDonald's.

On that third day, Rucker smacked my peanut-butter covered Cheetos out of my hand and told me that if I wanted to kill Gmie I needed to get back in shape and eat properly.

So of course, my blood-lusting ass was salivating at the mouth like a rabid armadillo, excited at the thought of killing Gmie that I just agreed to his terms without thinking.

I instantly regretted it the moment he woke me up at four a.m. by throwing ice-cold water on me and stuffing rancid brown shit down my throat. On top of that, over the following days, I had to drink said brown shit three times a day while chugging green smoothies and wheatgrass shots twice a day and eating grass and other unpronounceable veggies six times a day. All while exercising fifteen hours a day with twenty-minute breaks every hour. Sometimes ten minutes if Rucker wanted to be an ass.

I could honestly say that I now knew what hell felt like. It wasn't the devil buttfucking you every second for the rest of your existence while using your own blood as lube. No, it was doing Rucker's crazy ass "lifestyle" plan.

"Well then you just canceled your own argument," I said, glaring at him. "I made a huge change these last couple of weeks. I'm ready." I continued to glower at him. "And I refuse to keep drinking that shit colored juice. What the fuck's in that shit, anyway?"

"A bunch of herbs and six different types of tea."

"That's it? No sugar? Who drinks tea without sugar?"

"Healthy people."

"No, soulless people."

"Members of my gang were only allowed junk food on Fridays and Saturdays," Rucker said arms folded. "The rest of the week they ate what I told them to eat."

"I bet people tried to assassinate you on the daily, right?"

"Only twice."

I smiled. "See? The hangry rage is real."

Rucker shrugged a shoulder and smiled back. "So?

After what I did to the second person, no dared to try it again. I—"

"Don't care. I just want to kill people," I finished in a desperate tone. "I know I'm ready to put our plan into action now. I'm so ready to gut someone."

Our plan was for me to kill Gmie and Demo since both of those punk bitches attacked me, and then he'd get to kill Aries. While working out, we've been watching both Gmie and Demo very carefully.

Since the creators have been leaving us alone lately, everyone's been slowly getting into a normal routine, and we've been thoroughly examining Gmie and Demo's.

It hasn't been hard to follow them at all. They basically stay in Gmie's room all day, which I thought would make it impossible to get them. But I soon found out that Ms. Snooty Bitch and her pet Cyclops liked to go to the pool room around two a.m. every two days.

Gmie always looked so calm and smiley after swimming. I couldn't wait to carve my own smile into her pretty face. I already had her death scene planned down to the speckle in my head. Her death would be glorious. The viewers would love it. I was going to ruin her mind, body and soul. And then Demo's.

"Being too eager can be your downfall," he said, looking at me. I went to retort, but he held up a hand. "But I know if I don't let you do it soon, you're gonna do it without me."

"Soon? We're doing it tonight, bitch. It's one of their swimming nights. It's perfect." I clutched my fist close. "You don't know how long I've wanted to see their insides."

"Alright," he said, rolling his eyes. "We'll keep the plan simple like I said. I grab Demo while you torture Gmie for a while. Once you give me the signal that you're done, I'll bring Demo back in to watch."

"And then I kill Gmie in front of Demo, and then I kill Demo," I finished, salvia bubbling in the corners of my mouth.

Demo loved the fuck out of Gmie, so seeing her one true love die so savagely would probably break her. And while she's suffering emotionally, I'd kill her slowly, relishing in every moment of her grief and pain.

"You sure you're really ready for this?" he asked.

"Oh yeah. I'm going to mentally and physically mutilate those hoes." I grinned. "It's going to be so bloody and epic. Best deaths on the show."

He shook his head and chuckled. "I'm so glad we're on the same team."

I elbowed him before walking out the door toward the base. "Yeah, the smartest move you've ever made was making me your ally. No one wants me as an enemy. No one." I stretched an arm over my head as we walked down the hall. "I can't wait to get back to the base and get some food. I'm finally gonna eat something besides grass."

"Just because we're doing the plan tonight doesn't mean you can slack off and start eating Cheetos again. You still need to keep in shape."

"Hey, don't knock the Cheetos okay? Not only are they cheesy crunchy goodness, but Chester is like a sex god incarnate."

"Nah, Ms. Bellum from The Powerpuff Girls is way hotter."

"You've never even seen her face."

Rucker grinned. "Don't need too. She got two other holes."

"Eww, I'm going to go eat Cheetos now and pretend I never heard that."

"Do you have to eat them with peanut butter though? You're asking for health problems."

"Not everyone can survive off just grass and meat."

"The cavemen did."

"Yeah, they also shit in holes, had unibrows and never shaved. Would you fuck one?"

"Pubic hair—"

"Let's just get back to the base so you can make me a cheeseburger," I said, cutting him off with a shake of my head. "I need some beef in my life now. Or I'm gonna eat someone's fucking arm."

"Haven't you already done that?" Rucker chuckled as I flipped him off. "Fine. You get one cheat day. Remember this is a lifestyle," he said, standing outside my door. "And I'm not cooking. I always cook."

"Deciding to smoke weed is a lifestyle. Your lifestyle plan is worse than getting barebacked in prison." I used my key to open the door, and then I stepped inside our newly furnished base.