The Midnight Game

We invented the Midnight Game because of a game of Truth or Dare.

“So Mary, truth or dare?” When my roommate Sylvia started the next round, I was sitting on my bed, leaning back against my boyfriend, Will. His arm was loosely draped around my body, and my bra was sitting on top of my head—that last one was because of an earlier dare.

I contemplated the choice, and given what happened on my previous dare, I decided to take a different chance. “Truth,” I said, adjusting my position against him.

My boyfriend gave a low “hm,” as Sylvia eyed me, mischief in her smile. She was a mousy brunette with a penchant for schemes and plots, and I realized I may have made a mistake by leaving myself vulnerable in that particular way to her.

“Alright then,” she said, looking around our circle of friends also playing the game—Liz, the redhead athlete; Becky, the computer genius blonde; Nikki, the blue-haired author; and Jake, the glasses-clad introvert—and then met my eyes with hers. “What is a sexual fantasy you’ve had that you haven’t told Will about yet?”

There was a titter of surprised giggles around the room—not that this wasn’t in line with the earlier lesbian experimentation or live erotica reading that had come out of dares—as I frowned and contemplated the question. I glanced up at Will—clean-cut, dark brown hair, with a smile that melted knees and dampened my pussy—as I hmmed and thought. We’d talked about sex plenty, of course, and had even experimented a little. But what didn’t he know about me?

As a teenager, I’d read plenty of stories online, and had even done a little bit of roleplaying here and there, and in the process, I got to explore a very wide variety of things, and I remembered some of them that turned me on. That I still sometimes thought about as a junior in college, though I hadn’t mentioned them to Will.

“Remember the rules: what’s said here stays here,” Nikki said, a grin of curiosity on her face.

I settled on something, and took a deep breath. These were friends I knew well, and even though no drugs were involved—due to being in my and Sylvia’s dorm room—the night had felt like a deeply intimate night nonetheless. Secrets had been shared, and it was time for me to share mine.

Sylvia’s eyebrows perked up, and she leaned forward.

“Well, I’ve kind of always had a rape fantasy,” I admitted. “You know, just like, outside, grabbed, raped…” I shrugged, trying to pass it off. “Like, not that I would actually want that to happen but—“

“Fantasies are fantasies,” Becky said, nodding.

I felt Will shifting from behind me, and I glanced back at him. He had a thoughtful, far-away expression on his face. I wondered what he thought of that fantasy—I knew rape fantasies weren’t exactly uncommon, but it still wasn’t something that had entered into our relationship.

When I turned back to my friends, Sylvia also had a thoughtful expression on her face, her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. Jake mostly looked befuddled, Becky placid. Nikki and Liz were looking at each other thoughtfully for just a moment.

Nikki was the one who spoke up again, again watching the group. “Your turn, Mary.”

“Hm…” I said thoughtfully. “Nikki.” I pointed. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” she replied promptly.

“Okay.” I searched for a good question. “How many erotic stories have you posted online?”

She looked thoughtful for a moment, puckering her lips, and eventually said, “Somewhere around thirty across all my pen names.”

“Hm,” I replied. While we’d known she’d posted erotica, I had no idea she was quite so prolific. “Your turn.”

“Liz,” she said, turning to the redhead. “Truth or dare?”

“Oh what the hell. Dare.”

Nikki had that one ready. “Show us your tits.”

“Like, flash or—“

“Top and bra off. You can put them back on after the boys get a good look.”

Liz sighed, rolling her eyes. But she complied, stripping off her shirt and unhooking her bra, revealing her above-average breasts. There was an appropriate amount of oohing and aahing from us girls, and Jake definitely stared. Will had looked but was otherwise politely averting his eyes.

As she was getting her bra back on, Liz looked at him. “Will.”

“Me?” he turned to look at her, his eyes catching her breasts as they were covered by her bra. “Uh, truth, I guess.”

“Does the idea of fulfilling Mary’s rape fantasy turn you on?”

There was dead silence in the room as Becky and Jake turned to look at her with incredulous faces.

“Now wait a minute!” I protested. “That’s—“

“It’s okay, love,” Will said, rubbing my side with his hand. “Truth or dare, after all.”

I clamped my mouth shut, wondering what the hell had brought about that question.

“So uh…this is awkward,” he said, running his tongue around under his lip for a few moments as he thought. “But I mean, I think that sort of thing could be fun? In the right sort of context. I wouldn’t want to actually actually rape someone, but playing out a fantasy? I’d be willing to try it.”

It wasn’t an answer that I hated, at least. He did shift under me a little uncomfortably, and now I wondered if the idea was turning him on.

But contemplating it, the idea was actually turning me on as well. It was a fantasy, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that Will and I could potentially play it out safely. I trusted him. It would be fun—or at least, I thought it probably would be.

My gaze dropped down to Sylvia’s, and she was staring right at me, an expression on her face that I’d over the years come to understand to be her plotting something. Everyone else was watching Will.

He cleared his throat. “But I think it’s someone else’s turn now. Becky? Truth or dare.”

Sylvia kept her gaze on me a little longer as the game continued, the slightest smile tugging at the corners of her lips, while my mind started running through variations on a fantasy of Will raping me.

What was she scheming?

“So, do you want Will to rape you?”

It was down to just Sylvia and me, our friends having departed—including, sadly, my boyfriend, because of a test the next morning—both of us now ready for bed. She was sitting cross-legged on hers, brushing her brown hair as she looked at me.

Now I knew what the odd looks she’d given me all evening were for.

“No? He’s always been really good about listening to me when I’ve told him to stop.” I was sitting, my legs dangling off of the side of the bed, waiting for her to be ready to turn the lights off.

“No, no, no, Mary dear,” she said, clucking her tongue. “Let me rephrase. Would you like Will to fulfill your rape fantasy? Subtly different question. Completely consensual, but playing a role of non-consent.”

I hesitated. “We—“

“Don’t tell me you two haven’t roleplayed.”

“Maybe a little,” I said with a shrug. “But this is a totally different league.”

She set the brush down on her lap and pushed her hair behind her head. “That doesn’t actually answer my question. Let’s say I had an idea for you to play out your fantasy. With him. Would you want to do it?” Her head tilted down just a little. “Honest truth?”

I sighed, thinking. It had been on my mind the entire rest of the evening, ever since she had asked me about my fantasy. And I had to admit to myself, the thought of it was still arousing me. A part of my mind had already given in to the idea that I would be fantasizing about that as I masturbated in bed that night.

It was also crazy, and a huge leap. And while Will and I loved each other, that would still be a lot. But who else would I ever trust?

I had to admit it to her, though. “Yes.”

A grin lit up her face.

“What’s in it for you, though?” I wondered.

“Mary.” She shook her head. “You know that I’m a voyeur, right?” That had been quite a shock when she’d admitted it—two years earlier, when we were freshman in college who had met a few days earlier, as a way of telling me I didn’t need to hide my masturbation habit from her—but it still was something I wasn’t used to.

“Yes, but—“

“Also, getting my roommate to fulfill one of her deepest fantasies? That just makes me feel good anyway.” She giggled. “And I have an idea for this one. If you’re game.”

I sighed again. “Now I’m just curious. I won’t say I’ll go through with it, but I want to hear your idea.”

She started to explain, and as she explained, my head swum with the possibilities, and I felt my pussy getting wetter, and by the time she had talked through it, I was nodding.

We abandoned the idea of going to bed on time that night—I figured she was pushing me to agree because she knew I wouldn’t want to in the morning—still riding on some of the adrenaline of our Truth or Dare game, and instead, huddled at my computer as we talked through an email that I ultimately sent to Will.

It said:

The Midnight Game Rules

1. At 11:45 on Friday night, if the weather is good, I will send you a text that reads “The Game is On” (no text means no game). I will start taking a walk on campus to hide.

2. At midnight exactly and no earlier, you may leave your dorm. Sylvia will be with you and will make sure of the time.

3. You have until 1 in the morning (exactly one hour, the hour of midnight) to find me, chase me down, and have your way with me, just like a stranger raping me.

4. Neither of us can do serious physical harm to the other. Slapping, pushing, grabbing, and holding are okay. But nothing that draws blood or causes serious injury. No tackling on concrete. I will resist, but not too much.

5. The safe word is “bananas foster”, and if either of us says it then the game is immediately off. The pass phrase so that I know it is you in the dark is “damp, dark earth”, though you have to be clever when you use it or it won’t count.

6. The bounds of the game are the bell courtyard, the courtyard around the waterlily pond, the courtyard on the northeast corner of campus, the wall on the north side of the tree garden, the courtyard in front of Art Hall, the administrative buildings west of the quad, the bell courtyard, and all the area between them. This includes the the sunken garden, the quad, and the rose garden. Sylvia is the ultimate judge of what is in bounds. I will remain in bounds for the entire hour of the game. Neither of us can enter any buildings during the game.

7. You may receive aid from Sylvia, Becky, Liz, and Nikki in your quest to rape me, though you will have to discover your own way to convince them to help. They cannot touch me or physically impede me in any way; their aid must come through other means. You may receive no other outside help.

8. I may also receive aid from Sylvia, Becky, Liz, and Nikki in my quest to evade you; should they aid me, they are allowed to touch you and physically impede you, in addition to other aid they may give me. I may receive no other outside help. I will not summon campus police or use any other method of evading you other than running away and hiding.

8. If you catch me, you get to rape me. If I get away, then Sylvia will come up with an appropriate reward for me. She has suggested a movie night of sappy romantic films that you’ll hate, or possibly something involving leather and lots of teasing.

9. Tonight is the last night you can orgasm until Saturday. If you break this rule, the game is off. I will not try to goad you into breaking this.

10. You cannot tell anyone who was not in the room when I admitted to this fantasy.

If you agree to these rules, reply with the words “I will abide by the rules and will play the Moonlight Game”

We looked over the rules over and over, making sure they were what we wanted, and then I took a deep breath an hit the “Send” button.

“And if between now and Friday you decide you don’t want to do it, you can always just not start the game,” Sylvia said, stretching.

Today was Sunday. Well, Monday morning, based on the clock. We would have five days.

I would have five days to prepare, to plan, with my friends all working against me to help my boyfriend rape me. Assuming he agreed.

I was just about to close my laptop when it dinged. Will was apparently also up—probably last-minute cramming for his test—and had replied to the email.

I, William Ritter, will abide by the rules and will play the Moonlight Game truly and fairly. May the best person win.

But know, girl, that I am going to find you, and I am going to hold you down, and I am going to rape a baby into you.

It wasn’t the phrase, not exactly, but it was good enough.

The game was on.

“Uh,” Sylvia said, breaking my reverie as she peered over my shoulder at his response. “I’m pretty sure we’ve gone over this, but you are on birth control, right?”

“IUD,” I confirmed. “And normally, impregnation risk fantasies aren’t my thing, but with rape…” I bit my lip, looking at his words again.

How did he know they would turn me on so much?

Sylvia smirked, pulling away from me. “We’re learning so much about you today, aren’t we?”

I looked over at her. “Wait, did you plan this?“

She shook her head, stepping over to the light switch. “Not in the slightest. I had no idea you had a rape fantasy—at least, aside from the fact that I think everyone has had rape fantasies of some sort—or that your boyfriend would spring for it.” That smile filled with mischief, again. “But I know how to take an opportunity when I see it. And I like seeing my friends get laid. Literally.”

The lights went off, and I closed the laptop lid as my eyes adjusted. Soon, we were both in our respective beds, though I was finding it difficult to get to sleep.

Part of me wondered how Will had fallen into the rapist role so easily. Had he also had rape fantasies? Or had he done his research? And to write what he wrote…that took a little bit of courage. He would have had no idea that would turn me on more; was he just taking a risk? Or did he know more about me and my sexual fantasies than I realized?

My worries soon were subsumed by my fantasies about what might happen. I began to think through scenarios, my mind revolving around the idea of him taking me, of raping me, right in the middle of the sunken garden, the hedges and flowers around me.

As I imagined the things he might say, the things he might do to me, my hand slipped under my pajama bottoms and panties, and played with my labia just a moment.

I was so wet.

With a wimper, I slid two fingers into myself and began to pump.

Despite it being our third year rooming together, it still felt a little weird for me to do this with Sylvia in the room. With her definitely listening. But she claimed she enjoyed it, and however weird it was, it certainly made it significantly easier for me to find the time to pleasure myself, when Will wasn’t available to help.

So pleasure myself I did, throaty groans and deep pants as I fingered myself hard. Fantasies ran through my head, scenario after scenario as I wondered what it would be like to be bent over the rim around the waterlily pool and taken that way; or pushed up against the wall of the library; or my face planted in the dirt, the damp smell of earth and flowers around me as he plundered my depths.

Without even thinking, I rubbed my clit with my other hand, my hips bucking as I pushed my fingers into myself over and over again until—

Despite being a relatively quiet girl during sex, I moaned as my much-needed orgasm washed over my body. It wasn’t the best orgasm of my life, but it was one of the better ones I’d given myself in recent memory.

As I panted, coming down from my high, there came a chuckle from my roommate’s bed. “I think you’re going to have a very enjoyable Saturday morning.”

I could not help but grin waggishly into the darkness. “I am very much going to enjoy eluding him.”

“Based on the sounds I just heard, and what I’m guessing was in your head, I don’t think you really want to.”

“We’ll see,” I replied. “Goodnight, Sylvia.”

“Goodnight, Mary. Get your rest; you’ll need it for this weekend.”

I took a deep breath and relaxed, curling up in my bed, still feeling the post-orgasmic glow.

The magnitude of what was going to happen hit me.

I had five days. And then my boyfriend was going to try to rape me.

And I was going to enjoy every minute of it.

When I woke up the next morning, it wasn’t until I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror that I remembered what I had done the night before.

I blinked myself awake, contemplating my reflection in the mirror. I was naked, ready to jump into the shower for my morning routine.

I had really agreed to basically playing a game of hide-and-seek with my boyfriend. A game of hide-and-seek with actual, physical consequences—though I was sure I would enjoy it if he caught me, I still was likely to end up a little bruised and banged up.

I started to have some doubts.

Even thinking about it just as hide-and-seek, I was feeling a little intimidated as I looked at myself. Unlike Liz or Nikki, I wasn’t much of an athlete; if anything, the adjective I liked to use to describe myself was lanky. That I still looked like that after the Freshman Fifteen—much less nearly three years of college—mostly implicated just how skinny I had been in high school. I could at least get in a decent run before needing to catch my breath, but I wasn’t used to it. I wouldn’t be able to keep up any pace for the full hour.

My black shoulder-length hair would at least be an asset, making it easier to hide in the dark—and I would wear all black. But my skin was extremely pale: not albino, though people had sometimes referred to me as a Snow White because of the extreme contrast between my hair and my skin. I admittedly did sometimes play it up with some black eye shadow and bold red lipstick, but I could avoid those for the game. Still, in the pale moonlight…

I sighed as I climbed into the shower. Even though there was a part of me that was turned on by the idea of losing the game, I had gotten fired up. I wanted to win.

If I even went through with playing it.

On the other hand, what was the worst that could happen? I get a little bruised up by my boyfriend, have bad sex, and see a side of him I don’t normally see?

The hot water streaming down my body, I contemplated the possibilities again, more awake and thoughtful. But I still came to the same conclusion.

I wanted to play the game, and I would win either way.

Will and I met up for lunch, as we typically did on Mondays.

“How’d your test go?” I asked as I set my tray on the table and sat down to join him. Sometimes our friends would join us, but not today.

“Pretty good, though I stayed up way too late last night studying for it.” He shrugged. “Probably would have done just as well if I’d gotten enough sleep.”

He smiled at me, and I smiled back. I felt lucky every day that not only had I gotten to date such a handsome man, but he was also a wonderful, kind person. Threatening email the previous night notwithstanding.

“So I got an email from you last night,” he led, with a glance to either side, which I read as making it clear that we were in public, so we probably ought not to go into too much detail. The nearest people were about ten feet away and engaged in their own conversation, but I agreed with the caution.

“Mmhmm,” I said with a nod, spoon full of yogurt in my mouth.

“And I figure you were a little tired when you wrote it, and possibly pressured by Sylvia. Don’t give me that look, I know how pushy she can be when she wants something. I just wanted to check in with you in person. Do you really want to do this?”

It really was sweet of him to check in like that, and it was something I appreciated about him. It was the sort of thing that—ironically enough—made me trust him all the more with it.

I swallowed and stuck my spoon back in the white goop. “Sylvia did make the suggestion, and helped me write the email.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“And yes, I want to do this. I think.”

“Think?”

“I mean, it’s a big step, you know? I might still chicken out before Friday, but…” I nodded. “Yeah. I’d like to try it out.”

“Hm.” He got a faraway look again.

“Something wrong?” I wondered.

“No.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m also looking forward to it. More than I thought I might. Truth be told, while yeah, I’d thought about that sort of thing in the past, it never was my cup of tea, you know?”

I nodded.

“But as something to try? It’s…exciting. I want to see how it plays out. I don’t necessarily want it to be a regular occurence or anything, but we’re in college, and college students experiment, right?”

I laughed, taking another scoop of yogurt. “It’ll be quite the experiment for me, too. I hadn’t really thought about that stuff in years. Though.” I brought the spoon up as I looked at him. “I was a little surprised by your response. How did you know just the right thing to say?” I stuck the spoon in my mouth, finding the yogurt again good enough to eat but not good enough to relish. Cafeteria food.

His face flushed as he looked down at his plate. “I uh…well, after we said goodnight last night, I sent Nikki a text asking her about it a little. Even though I wasn’t quite expecting the email you sent, I wanted a little bit of a better idea of where you might have been coming from with your desires. So we could talk about them, if nothing else. See if there might have been some way to incorporate it into our sex life.”

“I guess I jumped the gun on that one,” I said with a laugh.

“Just about.”

“So…Nikki?”

“I asked her for references or reading materials. I figured as a not-exactly-professional smut author, she might be able to help me with that. Needless to say, she did, and then I took a risk.” He smirked at me. “So you liked that little bit at the end, huh? I wasn’t sure if you would.”

I coughed politely. “I’ll let Sylvia let you know the answer to that based on how much noise I made after I read it.”

His eyebrows shot up; he knew that I masturbated with Sylvia listening in the same room. There was no way he didn’t catch the implications of what I was saying. “That is…good to know. Speaking of Sylvia, I was going to meet up with her after class today to walk the bounds of the game, make sure I know what to study and plan for. Would you like to join me?”

I contemplated that for a few moments. On one hand, any questions I had or things I did would potentially give him information about my own plans as I formulated them. On the other hand, the same was also true with me learning his thoughts, though the asymmetry of the game would favor him in that balance. But, it would also give us both a chance to hear the same answer at the same time from Sylvia. While I generally trusted her, it would reduce human error if nothing else.

“Sure thing,” I said. “Where are you meeting when?”

“Front of my dorm at two thirty. And don’t worry, this is just to establish those bounds.” Another smile. “I’ll try figuring out your strategy later.”

I raised an eyebrow. “The whole tickle-me-until-I-tell idea?”

That got a shake of his head. “Nah. In my mind, that’s unfair.” He ran his tongue under his lip a moment thoughtfully. “So, I actually kind of wanted to talk about that, just a little. Obviously, it’s to my benefit to take every advantage I can get, within the established rules of the game.”

“Mmhmm.” I wondered where he was going with this.

“But to my mind, it’s a game, and I think games are more fun if they’re fair. The rules we’ve already both agreed to are already that, in my mind, but I still want to be fair in the parts that aren’t covered. The rules of chess don’t say you can’t text your friend for help—“

“I’m pretty sure that’s a rule in tournaments.”

“—Yes, I know, but bear with me. Casual game. The rules technically allow texting a friend for help, but most people would consider that unfair according to unwritten rules.”

I nodded. “And with this, you don’t want to act unfairly within the unwritten rules.”

“Exactly. I’d rather lose fair and square than feel like I won by cheating.” A smirk touched the corners of his lips. “Besides, I feel like we both win no matter what outcome of the game we get.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that for how true it was. “You have me there.” I sobered my expression up a moment and looked at him thoughtfully. “So…what are some of the uh…unwritten rules you’re still going to play by?”

“I hadn’t thought through them in that much depth, to be honest. I was mostly going to feel them out. But the big one is that I’m not going to ask you anything about the game or even want to talk about it with you after this conversation and walk with Sylvia. I need to use what I know of you and your friends to win this, instead of having you tell me or eavesdropping or something like that.” A waggish grin crossed his face. “Although once the game starts, I’ll eavesdrop if I have the opportunity.”

“And likewise, I shouldn’t eavesdrop on your plans,” I suggested with a nod. “Though you and I will also be competing for the loyalties of my friends—they’re fair game. If you tell one of them your strategy, and they warn me before the game, that’s fair.”

“Agreed and likewise. So both of us will keep our mouths shut in that regard. Again, I mostly want us to act as though this isn’t going to happen, until it’s time.”

“Seems reasonable to me.”

“I’m also not going to like, challenge you to a race this week.”

I eyed him at that statement. There was no real question that in an actual race, he would probably be able to outrun me. Yes, I was a lanky girl with longer legs than most, but he was still half a foot taller than me, and definitely had more stamina.

It reinforced that I would not be able to win the game by simply running. I would have to hide. I would have to anticipate his moves and avoid him that way. I would have to leverage my friends to keep me safe.

It was a daunting task, and I had a grim realization that most likely, I was going to lose this game.

The idea of it aroused me.

“Likewise,” I replied finally. I stabbed a small, red fruit that was probably supposed to be a strawberry with my fork and brought it close to my mouth. “So, is there anything else we need to go over in regards to making sure we both play fair?”

He shook his head. “Meet with Sylvia about the bounds, but otherwise, no.” His expression softened, and I could feel his demeanor shift as he obviously changed the topic. “So, Jake heard about this new show that’s going to be on Netflix…”

We were both out in front of Will’s dorm at two twenty, backpacks on our backs and smiles on our faces, like we had just met up after class with no other plans. He wrapped his arms around me, I looked up at him and smiled, and we were boyfriend and girlfriend, chatting about our days. When we kissed, another student walking by suggested we get a room.

After a few minutes, Sylvia showed up, looking entirely too pleased with herself, backpack also on her back. “Well hey you lovebirds,” she said as she got close. “Are you ready for this little tour?”

The two of us broke our embrace, but continued to hold hands. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I said with a shrug. My heart was racing; even though there was a lot of time left before the game, the idea that we would be playing it filled me with adrenaline. I almost wanted to run before we even got started.

“Good,” she said, and I started to orient myself by cardinal directions. The dorms all made a line along the southern side of campus, and Will’s dorm was no exception, though it was the eastmost one.

Sylvia continued, oblivious to my orienting. “This is the bell courtyard, and the concrete paths are in bounds as they square off.” It was a small squarish courtyard in front of his dorm, with a small brick wall holding five bronze bells in the middle. Flanking on the west was Smith Hall, and on the right Eastwood Hall. The courtyard was defined by concrete paths; the southern one part of a path that went by all the southern dorms, and the northern one forming a boundary with the quad.

Sylvia began walking, following the eastern concrete path as it ran by Eastwood, heading towards the quad. “The outside line of the path is the boundary line, but I recommend staying on the green.” We quickly reached that intersection, revealing the quad to us.

The quad itself was oriented east–west, and was a large green field with a smattering of trees. The path we were on continued north through the quad—the normal way to get from one side to the other—and the quad was bounded by path. The eastern side of the quad was mostly a collection of trees, aside from the flagpole, and east of the quad was the waterlily pond. On the western end of the quad was the chapel, with a wall-lined concrete patio in front of it; the patio jutted into the quad in the middle, with an arched opening in the wall, circling around an eternal flame pit that was ironically never one. A couple yards east of that patio, in the quad, was a collection of bushes and hedges, surrounding a pedestal that once had a statue of the university founder on it (but had been taken down my freshman year because of vandalism). West of the chapel was the rose garden, and then the sunken garden; we would get there in the walk eventually.

In the northeast corner of the quad was the short side of Jones Hall, and covering most of the northern border was the library. Beyond the northern end of the quad, the tree garden in full bloom.

We strolled quietly along the concrete path, and I took a moment to look at the flagpole, and I remembered it was almost always lit up at night—but had a small concrete wall around it, which could prove useful.

“Okay, extreme corner here,” Sylvia said as we stopped at the southeastern corner of the quad. Eastwood loomed in front of us, an extension as part of an oddly shaped building. “Remember, no going in buildings, even through this little hallway.” The door in front of us led into a small hallway further east, with a door on the other side that opened into the courtyard with the waterlily pond.

“Got it,” Will said.

We turned north and walked the twenty or thirty feet that Eastwood jutted out. Between the quad and the waterlily pond was another small courtyard with a bush-fronted brick wall and arched gateway in the middle—though there was plenty of space to go around the southern and northern ends of the brick (students had worn paths in both those places), and the one concrete path from the quad split the middle, through the gateway, heading east. Three ways through: a natural chokepoint.

That was a preview of The Midnight Game. To read the rest purchase the book.

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