Fandom Squid Games: America [Closed]

[Lucyfer]

Game Information
Game began with 432 Players
Current Number: 222
Total Dead: 210

Main Characters:

005, Isaac Duncan
036, Michael Janusson
062, Brad Nummerman
088, Anne Robbins
089, Ryan Stilworth
109, Benni Burgos
124, Katya Zander
212, Luis Gonzalez
299, Sato Hideyo
333, Gabriella Janusson
375, Brenda Redman
422, Sophie Reyes

The Living Others

152, "is dead" if they leave the game
365; started an argument about leaving or staying

The Dead Others

014, Simon Says, Black hair and freckles
024, Simon Says - first casualty
278, Simon Says
302, Simon Says, Green eyes
411, Simon Says
431, Simon Says, smuggler's smile

The VIPs

Cat-Mask, Female, bet on 089 to win after initial "horse" died.​

~***~

It was another terrible day for Ryan Stilworth, as the red-head ducked into the train station and went to study the maps and available trains. It was high time he got out of this area, and he had enough to buy a ticket. He just had to pick a place tomorrow, grab a bag, and get on his way. ‘It’ll be easy…and staying here….’

Well, that was certain death. Elijah had all but promised that if he couldn’t come up with the full payment by the end of the month, and there was no way Ryan was going to make full payment, even if he sold his ass – literally – down on 10th. His ass was good, but not that good.

He bit his bottom lip as he looked at all sorts of places, each one sounding too familiar, and not small town enough. ‘Wait, everyone knows what goes on in a small town. I should try some place like New York, or Boston, Kansas City….’

“You seem to be having trouble.”

Ryan jolted as someone spoke from at his side, and turned quickly around to face the stranger. They smiled, charming, “Do you need help understanding the map?” He asked, “or do you need help with a larger problem?”

Ryan let his brows knit together, “I don’t know what you’re getting at, bro, but I’m fine.”

“Really? Good, I was hoping you might have time for a game.”

“Listen, I’m in a bit of a hurry, so—”

“The winner of the game takes home $5,000.00.” To make that clear, he fanned out several hundred dollar bills.

That got Ryan’s attention, “Okay. What’s the game?” He asked, turning fully around. The stranger with the dark hair and the fine suit led him a few steps away from the map. He then held out two folded pieces of paper, putting away the money.

“You’ll pick one, and you’ll use it to try and flip my piece over by throwing it. Simple enough?”

Despite being burnt on a ‘sure thing’ before, and not having $5,000.00, Ryan nodded eagerly, and took the blue one. The suit man, ever smiling, set his red paper on the ground, and then gestured. “You can go first.”

And Ryan did, tossing his paper down and…not flipping it.

The stranger nodded, picked up their red paper, and after setting Ryan’s blue one properly, tossed it down artfully – and flipped Ryan’s. “Shit!” Ryan cursed, “Listen, I do—” a hand collided with his face. He stared, stunned, at the stranger who kept that shit-eating grin on his face. Then, he snapped, “Hey, what the fu—”

“In exchange for $5,000 – every time I win, I’ll take a slap as payment instead.” He grinned, “How does that sound? Would you like to keep playing?”

~***~

Tears had welled in Katya’s eyes, making it a bit hard to see the square on the ground. She wiped at them in agitation, took a deep breath, and focused once again on the red paper on the ground. ‘This time.’ She wasn’t sure how many more times she could deal with being slapped in the face. Yeah, she had cats that hit her now and then, but this hurt.

The throw was done.

And, to her own amazement, Katya watched the red paper flip over at long last. She let out a celebratory cry, and punched a fist up into the air as she jumped up, “YES! Finally, yes!” her hand came back down to her chest, and the stranger kept that smile on his face, and offered out the money he had fanned earlier.

Katya almost forgot about that.

“Oh – thank you! I’d almost rather slap you,” she admitted with a laugh, but took the money. Almost wasn’t a hint she’d prefer it.

“I get that a lot,” he said, “I’ve included a business card in there, if you would like to earn more money through children’s games.”

“Is it going to involve slapping?” She asked, tucking the money away, and looking at the business card with the three shapes on it.

He answered, “Unlikely,” but he didn’t add anything else to that, “I hope you have a good rest of your day, miss,” and he picked up his suitcase, and went on through the bus terminal. Katya glanced after him, brows knitting together in concern, before she looked back at the card. Flipping it over, it only had a phone number on it.

No name.

No business.

Just a number, and those weird symbols. ‘How much worse can it be?’ Naturally, the Jigsaw Saw voice came into her head and she shivered. Maybe pretty bad. She didn’t want to play those games. Still…she would have been kidnapped for that, right?

She’d mull it over.

First things first was catching her bus to get back home. ‘At least this should help pay the repair bill for my car….’ Though it wouldn’t dent the mortgage payments, the loans, or much else. Still, it was a start.

Well, after she picked up some good food for Gollum and Meru, of course. And paid a sitter. She didn’t know how long this was going to be, but she could be certain it wasn’t going to be just a day.

~***~

There was a mountain of paperwork on a coffee table.

Gabriella Janusson stared at it over the rim of a steaming cup of spiked hot chocolate with naught but loathing. Not for the writers of the papers, but for the systems through which they were filtered through. ‘Once upon a time….’ She was going to find the secret to world peace through the study of religion.

Now here Gabriella sat, named after an archangel like her brother, almost certain there was no god, and no peace to be found in human nature. ‘But there might be hope.’ Her cheek was still stinging, though on the heels of that thought, and a touch to it, she couldn’t quite help the furious blush that flamed as she considered context.

In another context, the bit of slapping might not have been so bad. Perhaps not for quite that long, but then, that was her fault for being terrible at the game. Still, her cheeks flamed, both with embarrassment and thoughts of context, before her gaze drifted down to her phone, and considered the number she had already saved.

$5,000.00. Just for beating him in one round of a game.

And then he’d slipped her a card, with a square, an ‘x’, and a circle on it – like a playstation controller. And he’d told her she could play other games, and win money – without needing to pay to get in. Everything about it, told her this was a bad idea.

Despite that, as she cast one more loathing look at the pile of papers, she picked up the phone, and dialed the number she had saved. It

It only rang once.

“Hello,” a woman answered, “please state your name and date of birth.”

“Gabriella Janusson, February 28, 1992.” She answered without much hesitation. “Is this for the games?”

“Yes,” the voice answered, “are you willing to participate?”

“Yes,” there, her voice shook, a little. Nothing was this easy.

“Then please meet one of our representatives in two days, by the mailbox at 6th and Young Streets, at 1:15am.”

Gabriella nodded, realized the person on the other end couldn’t see, and said, “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” she chimed back, “have a good evening!”

And that was that. Gabriella set down the phone, looked at the pile of papers, and with some resolve to finish them before two days, went back to work on them to clear her head of what was coming up.

~***~

Michael had been waiting weeks for the call. They needed more players, or so he’d been told, and he ought to wait until they had those players. Now, at last, that number was ringing through on his phone. He was lucky that was even charged, and he almost fumbled it and dropped it to the ground in his shock, “H-hello?” he asked, air coming out in a puff of steam. It was terribly cold.

Another reason for his fingers not being as reliable.

“Hello – for confirmation, can you please state your name and date of birth?”

“Michael Janusson, October 28, 1997,” that had just happened, hadn’t it? How old was he now? He didn’t want to think about that.

The voice on the other end cut into any thinking, as it was. “Thank you, Michael. The games will begin soon. Please meet one of our representatives at Vegas and 21st Street tomorrow at 11:45pm to be brought to the venue. Nothing is required.”

“All right…thanks,” Michael nodded.

With a chipper farewell, he was left to his thoughts once again. He stared at the phone for a long while, before he shoved it into the pocket of his coat. ‘Well…I guess I can afford to live a little tonight.’ He couldn’t help the somewhat wry smile that came across his face. He didn’t have much, between cash app and free dollars, but he could do a bit better than a granola bar and a can of soda.

So, with more of a skip in his step, he left the storage shed he’d been renting to live in, and went to find the nearest open convenience store, dreaming of overcooked hotdogs and a bit of beer in a tallboy can.

It was going to be okay.

Everything was going to be okay.

~***~

“Thanks for taking them on such short notice,” Anna Robbins said, smile fraying at the ends as her gaze left her ex-husband’s almost as soon as they’d met, trailing off to watch her kids vanish up the steps of his deck and rush into what he called a home – a double wide trailer he’d recently painted.

Something about knowing he was keeping it up, and accepting his lot, caused her heart to ache, though Anna couldn’t explain why. It was almost as if he was getting his life together, though the three piece-of-shit Hondas in front of his trailer said otherwise. She bet only one ran – and barely, at that.

“It’s no trouble,” he said, drawing her gaze back, “I hope this place can help your mom.”

Anna had lied and said it was for her mom. Given her mom’s illness, it made sense she’d take a long trip to get her seen at another place. And Anna would…when this was done, she’d get her mom the best treatment, if she was able to get enough money. “Though I won’t enjoy renegotiating visitation schedules.”

Anna’s smile was tight, “Don’t worry, I don’t plan to live up there if she gets accepted,” she lied again, but if this came through, she’d figure things out. Anna didn’t know how much she could win, but her gut told her it was a lot. Otherwise, why would it be shrouded in such bizarre secrecy, and a game of slapping at a bus stop?

Of course, that meant it was also going to be shady as fuck, but Anna could deal with that. “Right,” he didn’t sound sure, and she didn’t blame him, “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“A week, at most,” she hoped she wasn’t lying, “if you need anything—”

“I won’t,” he smiled. It was touched with a bit of sorrow, and more than a little regret – or maybe she was reading into it. “They’re my kids, too. And I’ve always intended to play a role and raise them.”

Her smile wavered. Her eyes watered. “I know, I didn’t mean to imply – never mind,” anything she said now would just come off wrong. She stepped back, waving her hand between them, “I’ll get out of your hair.”

That sad little smile seemed touched by a sardonic humor now. “I liked you more in my hair.”

She brought forth what muster she had to give him a dulled glare, before she went back to her car and drove off, huffing out a sound of irritation as she let the radio blare and drove back home, though she knew she wouldn’t be there long. She had to meet the rendezvous. She didn’t know what she was walking into, and though they claimed to need nothing from her – she still dressed up a bit.

‘I am going to look so stupid.’

And arrived hours early. She went to get a coffee at the nearby café, and stayed as long as she could, before she ended up on the street, waiting. ‘Lucky 40. Come on.’ She thought, rising up on her toes and dropping back down, hugging herself as she looked up and down the street.

~***~

‘I should be back in a week. It’s a business trip at another firm, I’m hoping to get employed there. It’s a bit far, but we’ve always talked about moving somewhere else. We should do it while our child is still young.’

Such had been the pretty lie that Sato spun, and now he stood just at the end of a creepy alley, in the rain, in a suit, waiting for an unknown to arrive. He checked his phone for the time, and saw it was 10:29pm. That clicked over to 10:30pm, and almost as soon as it did, a black van came pulling up in the rain.

The window on the passenger side rolled down. “Sato Hideyo?”

“That’s me,” he agreed, and the door opened. He noticed another in there, but focused on getting himself buckled as the passenger door slid closed on its own. The van was filled with a pungent, sour smell. Rotten. He tried to ignore that as he turned to the other passenger, “Hello, good to meet….” As he started to speak, a gas started to fill the van. “What’s this?” alarmed, he reached for his buckle, and tried to undo it, only to find it had locked.

Words slurred together in panicked questions, for only a few more seconds, before the gas did its work, and Sato Hideyo found himself falling victim to it. His thoughts lingered on his wife, Lilly, and their son, as he leaned to the side, and succumbed to sleep.

‘I hope I’ll see you again.’

Those were not the sights he took in next.

The sights he took in next was a room full of beds, with people in various states of consciousness laying upon them, every single one of them in numbered, blue tracksuits. Sato sat up, lifting a hand to his head as he gazed around, bleary-eyed.

An intercom produced a pleasant jingle.

“All players, please follow the instructions of the staff to the holding room. Repeating: all players, please follow the instructions of the staff to the holding room.” He looked around, and saw a few people who stood out, in red jumpsuits with those same odd shapes on their masks.

That had to be the staff.

Sato lurched forward, noting the number on his jumpsuit: 422.

Not too far from where he was, he saw a woman with a head of dark, curly hair, who looked as if she’d been awake at least a little longer than him. Or at least, she seemed more lucid than lots of the others, who looked as if they still needed their first cup of coffee – or a better explanation than ‘go towards the staff’.

The tired gaze was somehow terribly familiar, in a good way.

“Hey,” he greeted, “mystery card, gassed vehicle?” how else to offer an introduction? It would at least confirm that they had a similar experience, and were all, similarly, lost.

 

[JayMessi]

Isaac’s foot tapped against the concrete flooring of the Greyhound station in a rhythmic motion as he rested on a metallic bench. The thin layer of moss green pain on the bench had chipped overtime, the exposed metal underneath rusted, and with each rhythmic rock of his foot the bench whined under his weight. He rubbed against one another to build up a bit of friction in order to help combat the cold. Even though it was winter, it was unusually cold for Texas, and his light weight grey cotton sweater he had on his back did not provide sufficient coverage to keep him comfortable. He would’ve cursed himself for not being more properly prepared, but it wasn’t like he could foretell the weather upon his release from prison, some four years and five odd months ago.

He wished he had money for something warmer. A heavier jacket, a blanket, or heck, even a cup of coffee. But he was a dollar short for the ticket he needed to even board the bus. He had entered prison with only twenty seven dollars in cash, and spent around fifteen dollars of it-plus three more after tip-for a taxi to take him to a station. Then foolishly spent another four on birthday cards for his son, one for every birthday he had missed up to this point. The cards were nice though, colorful with cartoon animals and coinciding puns that aligned with the species. The puns might go over the head of a four year old. Isaac thought they were nice, at least. And it wouldn’t be long until he’d stumble across a good Samaritan who would loan him a dollar sometime before the last bus departed, things would be okay.

To bide the time he could write personalized messages in each card, make the whole thing a little more personal. Even if writing was never Isaac’s strong suit.

He felt the bench shift as weight was added to it, on the opposite end this time. He might as well see if the man had an extra buck. Bright eyes met the other’s dark one’s. The guy was dressed nice, with a briefcase. Maybe a businessman.

“Hey, man, I’m so sorry to do this to you-but you do happen to have a spare dollar. You see I’m a little short handed and I could really-”

“How about a game instead?” The man asked, tight lips raising into a friendly grin. “The winner get’s five thousand dollars.”

“A game, okay I’m down-but-I mean I don’t really have any money.”

“That’s okay, I’m sure we can find other ways to compensate if you lose.” The man said with a light nod. Isaac hesitated a momentarily, the proposition was odd to say the least and this was probably a scam.

But he could do a lot with five thousand dollars.

“Creepy, but okay. What’s the game then?”

-----------------------
Brenda had maybe one too many glasses of wine when she finally decided to take the stranger’s offer. The five thousand dollars she’d earned after at least a dozen attempts trying to flip over a stupid folded piece of paper was well worth it. The added humiliation of getting slapped with each failed attempt wasn’t as much. She had almost nearly doubled that money on a particularly lucky streak of online black jack, only to lose all the money she’d earned after getting overzealous and betting it all on a particularly bad hand.

When she called the number on the back of the odd business card-if you could call it that-due to the lack of information aside from a circle, an x, and a square she had been reevaluating her financial situation. She’d remortgaged the house one too many times, let one too many loans build up, and now they were going to lose their house. The house that her own grandmother owned, and had been in the family for three generations now. She’d known this for a while now, but it had just dawned on her once more the severity of the situation. Not only the house. Without a roof over their head she’d probably lose custody of Jacob and Samantha in the divorce.

She cursed herself for her destructive impulsive nature, for letting things get so out of hand. She should’ve been up front about the addiction, the loans, the mortgages. But there was no changing the past now, and the strange man she had run into outside of her work had offered her an out.

Six days. A few children’s games. And the potential to earn a lot more than the measly five hundred he had offered for the first. At least with this she had a shot.

The arrangements were easy enough to make, her soon to be ex husband was more than willing to look after their two, pretty much self sufficient, teenage kids. So on the agreed upon night, she waited outside her work place for her scheduled pick up. She didn’t really know what to expect, and the more she thought about it the whole thing was pretty shady.

But what other options did she have left at this point?

--------------

Benni didn’t have a good feeling about this. His feeling was probably less in part of intuition and more so out of common sense. Nothing ever good came out of entering a shady van in the middle of the night. He was wary to enter the van to begin with, but once seated he realized every other passenger in the car was unconscious. The gas spilled into the car just as he was reaching for the door handle to make his escape.

He’d woken up a bit earlier than the majority of the room, and being on one of the top bunkers he had a more adventitious view of their current setting. The vast white room was filled with not much more than multi level bunk beds that surrounded the perimeter of the place. In the northern center of the place was a stage. There was a screen with a number above the stage, 432. The other victims, if he could assume they were all essentially gassed and kidnapped in a similar fashion he was, were all wearing a green track suit with a white stripe down the outer ends of the appendages, and a white under shirt. He shared the same outfit with them. The only difference was the sewn on bold white numbers affixed to the right side of each polyester jacket.

Did they seriously strip everyone down while they were unconscious to change them into this thing?

What was this? Some sort of human trafficking operation, no, they certainly wouldn’t go through all this trouble for something like that.

A forced labor camp? This seemed a bit too extravagant for that as well. The only thing Benni was certain about, was they weren’t there to play kid games for cash like the creep in the suit had promised.

He should’ve just walked with the five thousand. It was a good chunk of change. Not enough to buy him a new identity, but enough to get him a plane ticket out of Bethlehem and he’d figure things out from there. Instead he used part of the cash to buy a new burner in order to sign up for this scam. He should’ve known it was a scam from a start, cash like that never came without a price.

He glanced down at his own number sewn on his jacket. 109. Whatever the hell that means.

He took a breath, eyes flickering around the room getting a better glimpse at some of the other victims. 432 could’ve easily just been the number of people in this building, well the number of people wearing blue track suits at least. As there were several other pink jump suited individuals who wore masks with some form of LED lights attached that Benni couldn’t make out. They must’ve been crowd control. Their wardens. Captors. Whatever.

After scanning dozens of unfamiliar faces he spotted one across the room from him he thought he recognized. He did. Another King. Luis Gonzalez.

Luckily, Luis didn’t see him yet, although he was awake. Benni didn’t want to start a commotion, and if Luis saw him there might be. Not yet. Not until he could figure out what exactly this was, and what these people had against them. But, just considering the sheer amount of victims to captors, even unarmed, a riot seemed inevitable just by the pure number imbalance.

Benni didn’t hesitate to make his descent down the black metal ladder provided, moving around the room to find a more adequate place to lay low. The other side of the room was a good start. His eyes wandered person to person before settling on a ginger hair woman who was also awake. There wasn’t much he could tell about her from a simple glance and anything he did come up with could be grossly inaccurate, but she seemed like someone who might have some sort of money or prestigious position. Or, if she didn't she at least might’ve wanted people to think that she did with the way she held her posture. A person like Luis would less likely cause a ruckus around because she might scare easily, draw attention to it. Someone that the guards might not choose to shoot at first if a handful of anxious individuals tried to incite violence. She seemed safe.

But of course in their current situation someone like Benni just walking up to her and lingering nearby might be cause to startle. He had to play this right. Introducing himself. Be charming and make sure she knows he didn’t have any sort of malicious intent.

So he approached her, standing at her bedside he settled himself into a seated position, using the frame of the bed frame as a backrest. He hardly offered her a glance with his dark hues before speaking.

“You seem nice. I’m going to sit here now. Okay?” As unusual as the statement was, the monotone he used, as void of emotion as his facial expression, along with his straying attention fixated on anyone who passed made it clear he wasn’t attempting flirtation. Communication just wasn’t his strong suit. “Say, uh, you know anything about this?”

He figured he might as well ask.

----

“All players, please follow the instructions of the staff to the holding room. Repeating: all players, please follow the instructions of the staff to the holding room.”

A soothing voice commanded over the intercom. Players.

So this was a game.

Or at least Sophie hoped it was. That’s what she agreed to. That’s what she signed up for. She didn’t agree to be gassed and taken to an unknown location. She was a bit on edge.

Was this some kind of reality tv game show with a new schtick? And if it was, were they allowed to do any of this? Were they allowed to record without consent. She didn’t want her ex-husband. Well soon to be ex-husband once she won these games finding her location due to this. The money was not worth the risk. People were already herding towards the staff members and she wasn’t bashful to follow suit while others lagged behind. The masked jumpsuited individuals didn’t seem too intimidating. The only thing that slowed her stride was a masculine voice sounded nearby, seeming to be addressing her.

The version of events he listed sounds about right. She considered if she should even respond to him at all, she didn’t know his intentions. Offering too much information off the bat might put her at a disadvantage at the games, and it was reasonable to think he knew something she didn’t.

Still, she wasn’t quite sure what games they would be playing. He didn’t seem too intimidating, his eyes seemed kind and his expression gentle, and she might need a potential ally moving forward especially for team games. Though, she had no reference to his skill level. Maybe the number placement he was assigned could’ve been an indication, 422. She was assigned 299 herself, but the numbers could just be the order in which they were admitted into the game.

“Hm, you’re giving me a sense of deja-vu.” She quipped, picking up her stride. Her tone suggested a faux sense of confidence and calmness, different from how she felt. “Do you think the whole gassing and kidnapping thing is something we should be worried about? Odd circumstances, but this place looks pretty on the up and up. I mean it’s not like it’s some dirty old basement, and the masks those guys are wearing are kind of cute.”

---------

Brad was growing a bit restless for the games to begin.

He had expected a smaller cast of maybe around twenty to thirty starting out. Over four hundred seemed a bit extreme. Were they going through the audition process? The man in the suit and the woman on the phone line didn’t mention anything about it. This seemed like a sure thing. Maybe that was too good to be true.

He was one of the first to spring to his feet once he heard the voice over the intercom. It seemed they needed everyone to head towards the stage, so he would do so gladly. It seemed as if being one of the first people to arrive might have it’s advantage. As for the games themselves, he knew he’d last at least the first few rounds. Just by appearance alone he appeared a lot younger and a lot more fit than most of the people here. He’d just have to keep his head in the game.

On his way to the front a particular woman caught his eyes, someone who might make it through the audition at least due to aesthetic appeal alone. The purple and pink ombre was definitely striking. He’d figure he’d introduce himself, it’d be great to start collecting allies right off the bat.

“Hey,” He said, once within earshot. “Names Brad Nummerman. This whole thing, the set up and everything is pretty insane right? They really went all out on it. Maybe they are trying to give out a futuristic dystopian type vibe with all this. Where do you think the cameras are hidden?”

Before Brad could go on any longer he the front masked man on stage began to speak.

“Welcome everyone and thank you all for your participation.” The man speaking dawned a square mask, his baritone slightly distorted by the face covering. “Everyone here will be playing six games throughout the course of six days, the winners of all six games will earn quite a large sum of money.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Gabriella was still trying to get her bearings as she woke up. She was sitting on her little cot, and running her hands over herself, pulling at the jacket, lifting her shirt a bit, making sure she wasn’t in any more harm, trying to get rid of thoughts in her head. She still went at it with a certain ease, as if she wasn’t absolutely shot full of anxiety. She was in the process of smoothing the white shirt down and regaining her composure, when someone spoke to her.

She jumped – always easy to startle – and looked up at the stranger who approached. She relaxed under the monotone, and statement of intent. “Okay,” although it would soon sound like staying there was a bad idea, given the announcement that came over the PA. ‘109.’ She had noticed her own number, 333. Fun.

If any of this could be called fun.

“Likely no more than you, 109,” she answered, “I got a business card and an invitation to some games, and…then I was taken into a van and gassed. Not how I usually like to start my day,” she chuckled, “though I’ve had worse. At least we didn’t wake up needing to cut our legs off!” Oh Saw. Why wouldn’t that leave her mind?

The voice repeated, and she rose, instinctively offered him a hand up, though he certainly didn’t need it. Nice was an adequate term, perhaps. “I don’t think you’ll get to sit here long.” She eyed the people in the strange masks warily, before turning her gaze back to him.

~***~

299 seemed to assess whether or not to even talk to him. ‘Fair.’ Sato couldn’t actually say he’d be more interested in talking to a stranger in her situation. Even if that was what he was doing, hoping it wasn’t a bad idea. After all, these were games. He knew everyone here was likely his opponent, but he didn’t see the harm in being friendly.

Or figuring more about this out, since they’d just been kidnapped. Something that 299 confirmed with the ‘déjà vu’ comment. The rest? He couldn’t help a burst of short laughter at the guards being ‘cute’ and this being on the up and up. “I’m not sure I would be more at ease in a basement, but it might feel a touch more honest,” although he didn’t know that.

Still, he couldn’t say he approved of being kidnapped and stripped while unconscious. And he hoped that was all they did. He didn’t feel oddly sore, at any rate. He didn’t think he was missing a kidney, though the thought to look for a new scar did occur. He ignored it.

They came into the so-called holding room together, with the others moving about to make room for the masses. ‘How many?’ his eyes sought numbers on jackets, before he realized the larger electronic number of ‘432’. That was probably how many. And it would likely go down as players were eliminated.

Good enough.

Someone up front was talking, and he turned his attention to them. ‘Six games. Winners.’ Well, that meant there could be more than one. No doubt one winner would have more money, and all the winners would share. Still, that was somewhat encouraging.

“How much money?” Some blonde up front asked.

Said blonde was number 36, Michael, who stood near the front, unaware his back was to his sister. Unaware she had canted her head, and furrowed her brows together in confusion at the sound of his voice. He didn’t think his voice was all that notable, after all.

The man in the mask answered, “That is to be determined,” and he went on to add, “we will reveal the information after the first game.”

“Fucking bullshit,” Michael cursed under his breath, but didn’t demand further, aware it was unlikely to get him anywhere. He just shuffled a bit and rolled his eyes, put his weight on his left leg.

It was a red-head near him that spoke up, “Hey, come on, you bring us here with some sleeping gas, strip us – probably play with us a little,” a few gasps, some choking sounds, and number 89 – Ryan – chuckled and continued, “I mean, I know what I have, I can’t blame you,” he teased, “so give us a little tease of the money, huh?”

Square Mask sighed. “The amount is determined by eliminations.”

“Theeere we go,” Ryan continued, “was that so hard?”

~***~

Among those moving ahead was Katya Zander, who couldn’t say she found the tracksuit flattering, or at all what she was accustomed to, although it was cozy. Like a good set of pajamas. She wasn’t really a fan of the number, though. Her lucky number was 67, after all, and this was 124. Not even 123!

She was trying not to think much about that and just follow the instructions, searching the faces as she walked.

Everyone else seemed about as confused as she felt.

Except one stranger who approached. She looked up, smiled, and listened as he reminded her it was some sort of game. “Oh – it’s being recorded?” She hadn’t realized, but, “I guess that makes sense,” she agreed, “no one’s going to give away money if they can’t make a profit off of it,” it hadn’t occurred to her, though, that this could be recorded.

That it could be a game show. That was stupid of her, of course it had to be a game show! Of course, as soon as that was said, they were cut off by the man at the front in the square mask. ‘Is it for playstation?’ Square, Circle, Triangle – had to be, right? X had even been on the card.

As some conversation began amongst players and staff, it became clear how money would build up – and from the sounds of it, more than one could win. It’d be foolish to assume this stranger would be a good ally – but then again, he looked young and relatively fit. That was advantageous. A good mix of braun and brain would be good if there were team games.

‘If.’

“Well, sounds like we don’t have to make enemies of everyone,” Katya said, “allies for now, Mr. Nummerman?” Surname was used more in a playful tone, as she offered a hand, “Oh! I’m Katya—Kat Zander. I promise I’m not unskilled, I spent a lot of time chasing animals,” she laughed it off, but it might help a bit. Animals weren’t the easiest of things to catch, or deal with, after all.

~***~

Anne had gone along with the crowd, picking at her number of 88 a bit, and trying not to look as lost as she felt. She had to stay confident. But, she wasn’t too terribly confident as she entered the holding area, and listened to the conversations in front of her, between staff and players.

Yes, winners might be good.

Although, she still shot a rueful glare at the stranger with the red hair. Did he have to make that kind of commentary? As if she didn’t feel creeped out enough. She hugged her arms around her chest.

“The first game will begin shortly,” the man in the mask was saying, “You will all be taken through the sign-up process and agreements. Some paperwork to sign – wavers – and pictures for identification purposes.” Of course.

‘As if you don’t already have pictures.’

“There will be five lines to get you all through quickly, and then we’ll lead the way to the first game.”

“What is it?” Red-head, again.

“I’m afraid you will find out when the game is to begin. We do not want any unfair advantages.”

“Hey, we’d all know if you told us now.”

“You will not know the games before they begin.” Square stated, apparently more firmly set on this rule.

Anne wasn’t sure how she ought to feel about that, but she knew with this kind of crowd, it was unlikely to all be single-player games. “Now, if you’ll please follow us.”

Anne sighed, and prepare to move, but people were apparently more eager. She was jostled by someone pushing past her, and stumbled into a nearby stranger. She had to drop her arms quickly and reach out to steady herself using the stranger, “Sorry,” she murmured, looking away from the stranger with the high, sharp cheekbones.

She took another steadying breath and tried to deal with the crowd.

 

[JayMessi]

Why would they make him cut his leg off?

Benni lingered on the statement momentarily, probably a little too long as the fact that the statement wasn’t meant to be taken seriously. He mulled over it and couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been through something similar where that had taken place.

No, that seemed a bit far-fetched.

It seemed as if her introduction to this place matched his own, unless she was lying, which meant it might’ve been the case for every track suited individual here. With a slight nod he accepted her hand as he rose up onto his feet. He didn’t need the assistance, but appreciated the gesture.

He should say something.

“If they told me to cut off my leg, I wouldn’t do it.” He stated simply with complete sincerity. A bullet through the head seemed like a much kinder death than bleeding out. Not that the ones in jumpsuits appeared armed at the moment. Just as he made the statement a wave of realization rushed over him.

“Oh, you were referencing a movie.”

Despite the fact the two were strangers, Benni stuck by her side mirroring her footsteps until they settled on a spot at the front of the room. He stayed hunched over, his head down his height played at his disadvantage in a moment of trying not to be seen. At least the crowd would act as camouflage.

He listened carefully to the words of the square mask, they were still insistent on this whole thing simply being a series of games with some sort of cash payout. Benni didn’t quite buy that, there had to be some sort of catch. He didn’t trust this, but it seemed as if the announcer had satiated a lot of other’s concerns. Maybe even soothed his own when others were able to speak out their woes, and be provided some form of non-answer without any retaliation on the masked men’s end.

“Do you trust this?” His eyes settled back onto his selected company, keeping his volume low in an attempt not to be overheard. He didn’t seem to pick up the confusion on her face, or even if he did, he couldn’t place why.
They had to sign documents and get their photos taken. No way this thing was legit. But this would be the perfect time to see if there was an out, if this was simply some form of competition he should be able to simply opt out. Or at least try.

Especially if there was a King already here.

But it’s not like he had anywhere else to go.

---------

Sophie let out a stilted laugh in response to 299’s statement. It would’ve been funnier if it didn’t call attention to the dire nature of the situation. She placed a hand on the back of her neck, the smile she formed slowly fading as she lingered a little too long on their situation. Still, she had grown fond of the man who stood beside her and offered his company and some humor during the situation. At the very least he helped ease the tension, making her not feel so alone in this. Not that there weren't over four hundred others who were sharing the exact same experience.

She turned her focus to the announcer, noting their explanation and the answers to the questions asked by a few bold individuals. She had a couple of her own, but held her tongue knowing that they would all be answered in due time.

She felt a little better knowing that they actually were going to be playing games, there actually was a cash prize, and they hadn’t been kidnapped under false pretenses. If she could believe what the square masked man was saying. Which she did. More for her own sake than anything else.

The comments the red head decided to make, him being just in view made her shudder. His continued dialogue made her grit her teeth as she had quickly come to find him obnoxious.

“The nerve of that guy.” She stated. “Wanna make a truce or something, 299? If there’s a team challenge, we’ll be partners so neither of us have to pair up with that guy.”

She turned her head towards the other, curly locks bouncing slightly with her movement as she was already moving forward to find a line.

“But if it’s every man for yourself sorta thing, don’t think I won’t kick your butt just because I like you.” She assured him.

------------

Brad was surprised that she didn’t seem to know that. Why else would they set this whole thing up? They obviously wanted to catch people’s genuine reactions.

Brad’s eyebrows knitted as the guy began his spiel. Nothing too unexpected or insane, but he was sure they’d introduce some catch once they got down to their core members. The guy making all the commentary was pretty hilarious and Brad couldn’t help but chuckle with his comments. Damn. He was probably starting to earn more screen time because he’s the only one that stood out so far in the bunch.

Speaking of standing out, there was kind of an impressive diverse mix here. In terms of both age and ethnicity, there were way more middle age and old people here than you’d expect for a game oriented reality show. Some of these people looked like they were already knocking on death's door, and these people expected them to compete in a series of games?

He’d even noticed a group next to him of four or so, one woman translating what the speaker was saying as he said it. Why would they join if they didn’t even speak the language?

His attention turned back to whom he now knew as Katya, or Kat. He preferred Kat.

“That sounds more than okay with me.” He said with a grin. Partnering with a woman might not be the best move for more sports orientated stuff, but he was fine with that. She was cute and he liked the company, and if he played his cards right maybe something could come of this. “Chasing animals all day? Do you have a couple dogs that like to make a run for it, or are you out harassing the neighborhood squirrels?” He found a place in the line to follow the check in process.

------------

Isaac woke up fashionably late, he honestly didn’t even remember falling asleep. And he certainly didn’t change into this track suit on his own. By the time he had made it to the back of the group he only caught the tail end of what the masked men were saying, but got the gist.

Six games. Six days. The potential to earn some cash prizes. The whole deal was pretty sweet, even if the whole same suited dress code and warehouse like setting sort of reminded him of prison.

But it would be fun, and even if he didn’t win-which he probably wouldn’t-he’d at least to get a chance to meet some new people and have some nice sober fun as a free man.

He was making his way to where the...game masters...yeah, that sounds right...they were directing people into five lines and from what he could tell, people briefly went over some documentation before signing their name. He was on his way to join a line when a woman stumbled into him. Well, she didn’t really stumble into him but rather practically was shoved by a couple of particularly overzealous and careless people.

“You’re good.” He said, on closer examination he could tell she felt rather tense. Maybe overwhelmed. This could be a lot to take in.

“Hey, you okay, Miss?” He asked as he moved after her. “If you want you can hang back with me. People get so impatient during these kinds of things, like forming lines and waiting. I’ve learned sometimes it’s best to just let everyone settle in their place, relax, and just join in the back. We’ll all get there when we get there. I don’t mind doing it alone, but it’s always better with company.”

He squinted his eyes taking in the number sewn onto her chest. “Eighty-eight? That’s a cool number. I got five. Which I also think is kind of neat. Out of all these people I got five? It makes me feel pretty special.”

---------

Brenda happened to be one of the first people in the line, which was great because she hated waiting and if she was one of the first to be ushered onto wherever the game room might be, then she may be able to figure out what game they would be playing and begin to strategize. Unfortunately, the red headed guy that just wouldn’t shut up when their hosts were explaining things holding everyone else up was right in front of her. The less annoying blonde that initially inquired about the money stood behind her, he heard him curse but she shared his frustration.


Once making her way to the front of the line she is presented a consent form with three simple rules.

1. One may not quit the game.
2. Any player who refuses to play will be eliminated
3. The games may be terminated upon majority vote.

It seemed simple enough. She scanned the paper for any fine print or any additional information she could gather from the page, but found nothing. She looked up at the circle masked man briefly before signing her name where indicated and turning in her page. Once filling out her portion she picked up her pace in order to catch up with the red head that had made the commentary earlier, eyes burning a hole in the back of his head.

“You know, those comments weren’t necessarily.” She stated her bright eyes practically burning a hole in the back of his head. “I don’t recall anyone signing up for your half assed comedy routine. There’s a lot of people here and I bet you some of them found your jokes downright distasteful.”

 

[Lucyfer]

The realization almost made Gabriella, 333, laugh. Had it not been for all the distractions, she probably would have – though tried to temper it. As it was, she was able to offer an amused, sympathetic expression, before those distractions set in. The first was the voice, and bearing, of a man closer to the front. He sounded like her brother. Even from behind he looked like him.

‘This guy is just making you think of him.’ With the way he was hunching. It reminded her of how her brother held himself sometimes. He was stupidly tall. So was this guy, actually. Perhaps that’s why it was easy to gravitate towards him – something familiar about his presence.

His question came as the spiel ended, and they were ushered on to more areas. “I trusted them enough to come here,” Gabriella answered, but added, “but I know there’s something they’re not telling us. Why go through all this secrecy otherwise?” What it was, she couldn’t guess, but Saw continued to nag at her.

She really hated that. ‘It can’t be that bad.’

“Not to mention getting slapped around to end up here,” a small chuckle, a sigh, as she ended up in a line and let it progress towards the front, occasionally trying to get a look at the tall blonde – who really was stupidly tall. He stood heads over others.

There was an out to it all, it seemed – if the majority wanted it. Gabriella stared down at that, and the obvious lack of small print, as some woman was going off somewhere behind her. She gave only a cursory glance, before the term ‘Karen’ was dropped, and she had to stifle a chuckle.

She didn’t want to give that red-head a good impression, even if he was certainly right to call her out on that. She stepped aside quickly to let 109 sign and look over things, “Think I could have you help me get over to the tall blonde when you’re done? I can’t push through crowds too well. I think I know him.”

Unaware of his circumstances, she didn’t know how bad of a thing that could be. Naturally, her demeanor suggested it could be good if she wanted to meet with him, as he disregarded the red-head and Karen and made his way towards the game.



Michael, 36, knew teams might be good. Perhaps even now.

However, he wasn’t going to start making nice with people right now, not even the obnoxious red-head who helped with questioning. ‘Just get through this.’

And so he was among the first to step into an open squared room, with a bizarre male robot across the way, looking like a used car salesman. ‘What the hell?’ As if this whole thing wasn’t creepy enough.

~***~

‘299.’

He would have to get used to being referred to by a number, wouldn’t he? Well, that wasn’t so bad. There were probably some people here who he didn’t want to know him. If he was going to team up with someone, ideally, they wouldn’t be on his list.

“All right, but you have to call me Sato, not this 299 business,” he smiled, deciding there was enough anonymity in a first name only. “And I understand. We all have our reasons for being here.”

Despite everything that had brough them here, which he imagined was just as shady even before they broke down and decided to call the number. How many people really trusted a random businessman in a suit who took joy in slapping them? ‘Well, at least 432.’ And likely more. Sato didn’t get the feeling this was the first time.

Everyone was well-practiced at this, including guiding them towards the lines. They slipped in near the back, as some girl was shoved into another guy, and got into line near them. Sato just gave a slight nod back at the logic he overheard. ‘We’ll all get through it eventually.’ Like getting on a train, getting onto a plane – they weren’t going to be left behind.

He kept an ear to the conversation as they got closer to the front, and tried to ignore the red-head now that he’d found someone to confront him.

“It’s going to be a long day with these people,” Sato murmured under his breath, for his new partner. “I’m not sure I’d rather avoid him, or the…Karen.” It was a useful term.



Anne, 88, was able to straighten up and give a bit of a weak smile to the friendly stranger who offered to let her stand near him in the line near the end, “I think you’re right. Not sure there will be much of an advantage to getting in first,” though there could be, she wasn’t sure it was worth it.

She didn’t find much magical about her own number.

Or number 5, for that matter. She arched a brow, “Lucky number? Or do you just think it means you’re considered one of the best here?” Did they rank them? Was it by when they chose to join the games? Or was it completely arbitrary. ‘Can’t be that. They had to have our sizes.’

Anne was not going to think about the implications of that.

Especially as red head’s voice lifted above the crowd and she remembered his crass words. No, she didn’t really want to think of such invasive things, so she just kept her attention focused on 5 and his magical number.

~***~

Given how close Ryan, 89, had ended up sticking to the blonde, it was no surprise he got through the sheets quickly, got his picture taken, and was on his way towards the game when he was suddenly stopped by a complaining woman. He paused, even if he could have walked, and faced her with a sardonic expression that increasingly grew amused with her outrage. “Listen, Karen, I didn’t sign up to listen to you either, but hey – that’s the nature of living in a society. We have to deal with people like you.”

He pointed, then let his hand lower as he shrugged his shoulders, “I’m sure I’ll manage to offend everyone by the time I’ve won these games. I’m just glad right now, I’m offending the right people,” his grin became cheeky. “Shouldn’t you be at a kid’s soccer game, not playing kids’ games?”

Not that he knew it was a kid’s game, but some adults thought any games were just that, so he may as well use the insult that was available.

Some were at least hiding smiles, so Ryan figured he had more on his side than the Karen did.

~***~

“Why not both?” Katya, 124, had been a menace to squirrels as a kid, but nothing would beat the moment a squirrel had come up and high-fived her. Well, she thought of it as that – really it was probably just examining her hand for food and slapped her hand in the process of sniffing around.

“I have cats, actually, but I help out at an animal shelter, and am a general menace to any animal around me,” by that, of course, she meant lovingly so. She would play with a dog all day. Until it tired her out. She could never tire a dog out.

She was behind Brad in the check-out process, and with the game scenario still in mind, she considered, “This seems like too many people for a gameshow,” not that she doubted, “I know Game of Thrones managed a huge cast, but I’m not sure introducing so many people all at once lets the audience care for anyone off the bat.”

Except those who were going to stand out. Like the red-head, now bothering a woman – who would likely become known just for the hostility, which was likely to continue.

Cliques and teams were inevitably going to form…and be broken.

“Heeeey, can we just get through the first game before we start tearing everyone down, maybe?” It was probably stupid to try and get between them, but she didn’t want to imagine it escalating right now. That, and she just didn’t really like conflict.

Though, she wouldn’t be forgetting either of them.

If this was a game show…popularity did have its perks.

That’s why they brought some people back who had lost previous games. Personality. Popularity.

There probably wasn’t much room for a peacemaker in that, but being around the popular ones helped.

 

[JayMessi]

“I agree.” Benni, 109, stated with a slight nod in acknowledgement. They were definitely keeping something from them, otherwise they wouldn’t have gassed them and stripped them of both their belongings and identity without their consent. He didn’t trust him, but the other’s verdict did give him some form of reassurance.

“He slapped you too?” Benni caught a glimpse of her once more as he followed her, taking a place in the line behind her. She must’ve been desperate for the money in order to allow the man to take a bit of her pride in the way of payment, just had Benni had allowed him to do. Everyone here must’ve been desperate. As the line shuffled forward Benni kept his head down but his eyes wandered through the crowd attempting to find the location of Luis. He hadn’t caught sight of him since he had initially woken up, and began to hope that it was just his eyes playing a trick on him. He had caught a glimpse from a distance, so perhaps he had mistaken him for someone who had similar features.

Once presented the document he skimmed it. He turned his attention over his shoulder momentarily, before taking a breath and signing the form. A signature didn’t really mean much, there was no way this document was legally binding.

He took a breath, grateful at least this part was over. His attention fell on his new friend once more as she made a request, eyes following towards the tall blonde that she directed him towards. In theory, it was a relatively simple one. Benni still wasn’t sure whether or not Luis was actually present, and cutting his way through the crowd to the near front, which was quite a distance away, could draw attention to him. Especially as they attempted to pass the small group making a commotion, a focal point to several wandering eyes.

Still, he didn’t want to lose the only associate he had in the place, even if they were still near strangers. And the request was simple.

He took a little too long to respond, and the blonde managed to gain some ground in the meantime. But once he had finally made up his mind he offered her a blank, “okay,” before making his way through the crowd. He weaved his way through the landscape with relative ease, whenever he came across an obstacle in the form of another body he did not waver in his pace causing the person to make the hasty decision to move or get slammed into. He was rather effective in this technique, clearing a path for 333.

Once he finally managed his way into the game room, he glanced over his shoulder quick to realize his friend must’ve lagged behind somewhere.

“Shit.” He muttered under his breath, as he turned around to face the blonde who was in ear shot.

“Hey you!” He called out to the blonde man in order to get his attention, before he suddenly lost his footing. Well, someone caused him to lose his footing by sweeping his feet, but with a firm grasp on the fabric of his track suit the individual prevented him from completely falling. The person’s grasp was the only thing keeping him stable, and Benni didn’t have to turn his glance to infer who the aggressor was.

“Saco de mierda.” A familiar voice chimed in his ear. “You had the boss worried. Is this where you’ve been hiding?”

Benni kept his eyes forward, unable to grasp anything but the sketchy robotic salesman at the front and center of the room. He gritted his teeth as he waited for his former comrade to get to the point.. There was some comfort in the fact that Benni was aware Luis wasn’t carrying a weapon, he had been stripped of his own and figured the other had been as well.

“You know you don’t get to leave us like that, Reyes. Haven’t we taught you anything? Loyalty? Respect? Are those concepts lost on you? We were family, we gave you everything-a piece of our soul, we treated you like a brother, and in return you spit in our face? Disrespect the name? You don’t deserve to wear the crown and if you ask me, you owe us.” Luis kept his voice low, obviously not trying to incite a scene. “Now my question is, what should I do with you now that I’ve found you? Bring you home to the boss himself? I bet there’d be a hefty award attached-” Luis fell silent as the intercom chimed.

“The first game will begin shortly. Please follow the instructions given to you by the staff members.”

Luis let go of his grip on Benni, allowing him to drop to the floor.

“Te veo pronto.”

Benni’s eyes fixated on the lifeless eyes on the robot.

Coming here was a bad idea.

-----------

“Sato. I like the sound of that.” Sophie, 422, smiled as she figured it was best to take a spot in the back with him. She certainly didn’t want a spot near the red head and the fuming woman next to him, she’d rather avoid conflict, and with the way some of these fools fought for their place in line this seemed like the most opportune spot.

Her thoughts on the matter reflected Sato’s own, as she figured this was too well formulated to be an amateur attempt at these games. Despite the fact she had never heard of anything like this before, the event seemed rather well polished. Finished.

“How about we just avoid them both? For our own sanity’s sake.” She offered quietly in response.

Isaac, 05, considered Anne’s question for a moment before offering her a smile. “I just think it’s lucky. It’s a good number. Why? Do you think the numbers on our jackets have something to do with us?”

It could be true, but what did it mean? It was unlikely a ranking of any sort of skill set, because Isaac didn’t really have any skills. His focus flickered momentarily to the commotion happening towards the front of the room with the talkative redhead and a couple of others. But he couldn’t make out what exactly was going on and it didn’t really concern him.

“Ah, my name is Isaac by the way. My friends call me Eye Sack...but you know, you can just call me Isaac.” He said with a sheepish grin, before taking notice of the two individuals that joined the line behind them.
“Oh hey! We’re not the last ones anymore. Welcome to the back. I’m Isaac, by the way.” He offered a smile that exposed almost all of his teeth. “What type of games do you think we’ll be playing?”

“That’s a good question.” Sophie considered. She figured that the two in front of them didn’t seem okay enough. “There’s a lot of us, so it wouldn’t be unreasonable for them to group us off into a few teams. At least for the first couple of rounds until there’s fewer of us left in the game.”

“Oh man. That makes a lot of sense. I wonder if it’ll be more like video games or like activity school yard based games? I mean if it’s something less exciting like cards or board games that’s pretty sweet too. In prison we always played cards-well mostly Pinochle. Have you guys ever played it?” He asked looking between the three, as their turn to sign the documents approached steadily. “It’s like-uh-well it’s kind of really hard to explain. I wasn’t really good at it but people would hold tournaments like everyday.”

Isaac caught Sophie giving him a concerned glance once he mentioned he had been in prison. “Oh, I didn’t go for anything violent, of course. Just did a lot of stupid things when I was younger.”

“The first game will begin shortly. Please follow the instructions given to you by the staff members.”

Isaac looked towards the ceiling as he heard the announcement overhead. They still hadn’t even signed their papers, but it was almost their turn now. From there they better get into the game room quickly.


-------


Brad, 62, gave off a chuckle that seemed a little too exaggerated at Katya’s comment. “That’s really cool. I absolutely adore animals. You’re really doing those little guys a service.”

He went up and signed the paperwork with ease. And took an excellent photo, dawning his million dollar smile and a set of finger guns. Weird there was nothing mentioning the cameras on the paperwork, but not all states require your consent to record you and broadcast you on television. It was more of a moral thing than anything.

Brad considered Kat’s question momentarily, he had noted that the cast size was strangely large. “They’ll probably do a high stakes game to start us out, I’m thinking. Maybe something like dodgeball? They’ll want something that eliminates at least half of this cast, and then by the third game they’ll finally find a few core groups they want to follow that have given off the most influence. I’m pretty sure they film the talking heads after the whole thing is over with, so they probably have a hundred odd guys back there just going through the footage for anything interesting.” He started placing his hand at the back of his neck. “But with this many people, you really do feel like a needle in a haystack. Hopefully we’ll leave enough of an impression, but even if not, it’s still fun to be part of this whole thing.”

He was lying. He wanted as much screen time as he could get. After he figured out the theme they were going for with these games, he’d have to strategize how he could make that possible.

He approached Kat once more as she decided to intervene on the scene taking place.


“My name’s not Karen.” Brenda, 375, stated. “Is that seriously why you’re here? To make mean spirited comments to everyone. You seriously think you’re going to win with that kind of attitude?” She stated crossing her arms. “Shouldn’t you be cursing out twelve year olds on your x-box instead of burdening us with your presence?”

Ugh.

Brad didn’t want to get involved in this. But just being near the action might give them a higher chance at screen time, and he had to back his girl Kat.

“Yeah, guys. How about some good sportsmanship out here? Let’s make this a friendly competition.”

Her attention was directed to the artificially colored hair woman who decided to step in. “You do have a point, and I like you guy’s attitude. We need more people like you out there, and less like him.” Brenda said before making her way towards the game room.

Brad followed suit anxious to get started with the first game. By now they lost their spot at the front of the pack, and were more middle of the stage unless they chose to maneuver their way to the front. He scanned the setting before him, eyes immediately attracted to what appeared to be a ten foot animatronic. One of a pale fleshed man with short brown plastic hair, it’s large eyes off center and extremely exaggerated smile took up most of its face. The robot was styled to look cartoonish and natural, and with its plaid suited fitting with a yellow under shirt and tie it looked like a character you’d meet at a used car retailer.

“Well, that’s going to haunt my nightmares.” Brad commented.

 

[Lucyfer]

For a bit, Gabriella, 333, had been able to follow as the people moved aside. Had she not known her brother to be capable of this strange feat, she wouldn’t have asked him – but she knew. It seemed he was also quite aware of how to use his imposing height and build. Unfortunately, people closed ranks after him, and Gabriella got stuck in the crowd.

She could still see him – for a bit.

But she knew where he was going, at any rate. Everyone was starting to go that way. So, eventually, she was pushed along with the crowd, and came into the room with the creepy robot, in time to see her new companion on the floor. She did not see the reason, nor did she guess it beyond being certain the cause was somehow violent.

Perhaps someone got upset with his pushing through?

Or, racism. It was alive and well everywhere, unfortunately.

In either case, Gabriella pushed the rest of the way through and offered her hand again, “Sorry – people moved for you, but I wasn’t sticking close enough. My fault.” It seemed ridiculous she wasn’t sticking close enough, given her obvious willingness to be in contact with him.

“What are you doing here?”

Michael, 36, had gone paler than he was at the sight of Gabriella.

She would look up, and the answer she’d feared was in the face above her. “I could ask you the same thing! I thought you were in Japan?!”

“…Yeah. I…who’s this?” He decided to redirect. He had seen the incident. This stranger had called out, and he'd turned. He needed to know a hell of a lot more before he trusted him, and his look said as much, spoke of his suspicions about letting him in when he was already, clearly, marked.

“I don’t know. But he’s with us.” Stated simply, which caused Michael to frown. She didn’t even know him and she was already dragging him into ‘them’. Michael let his doubt show as he looked the stranger over. A bit shorter. Stockier, perhaps, though. Definitely not someone Michael would want to deal with in a fight.

Could be useful, depending on how things went.

“All players, please begin to form lines where staff indicates.”

“Fine. We’ll talk after this. All of us,” he caught the stranger’s look, then gestured them back to where he’d been standing earlier. The spot hadn’t filled up. Better to stay near each other, he figured.

Gabriella just shot a look up at the new recruit of sorts. “That’s…that’s my brother,” her smile faltered as she said that, considering again what it took to get here. And what it meant that he was here, and not in Japan.

~***~

No name was given in turn, but Sato, 109, wouldn’t press 422 for it. “Sounds like a plan,” he murmured his agreement. They’d avoid both of the contentious fools up ahead, and try to win. Ideally, together.

The man in front was introducing himself to the woman nearby, and Sato caught two names – Isaac, and then the other.

“Oh, I’m just Anne…with an ‘E’ as some heroine would say,” Anne of Green Gables had been a novel she’d forced herself to read after enduring commentary like that. The book ended up not being terrible, to her own surprise.

She let the other two be brought into the conversation, assessing them and the consideration of games. Grouping up seemed possible. As cards were mentioned, even with the jail addition, she considered that they could group them up to compete with each other, not to play as teams. Who played Go Fish with a team? Or Poker?

Though, at the mention of jail, she also gave Isaac an askance look.

Sato was the one who didn’t.

“Never played that one,” Anne answered, “We were more into matching games. Go Fish, Old Maid, those things. Then again, I didn’t get too into competitive cards.”

“I did pretty well at blackjack a couple of times. You know, until I lost it all,” Sato laughed more easily, “I think I’m into casinos at $80. One day I’ll go back and win to at least break even.” No, he wouldn’t, and the thought struck him enough to wash the smile from his lips. He wouldn’t live long enough to take his child to a casino, which was where his thought had gone. Being there, for age-based milestones.

He wouldn’t.

Distantly, he heard Anne’s comment of, “I’ve never been to a casino. Or jail.”

But maybe he could leave his kid some money to play with.

He stepped forward to sign the paper, distracting his thoughts with that, as the others continued onwards towards the room, Red Head and Karen effectively silenced for now.

And distantly, he heard the addition, “I’ve known enough people put in for doing nothing, though. My ex,” she sighed, shook her head, “most come out playing dominos.”

Sato would begin to move to the room, sparing a glance for 422 to follow along as further instructions were given about lining up. Within the room was a horror of sorts -- a cartoonish robot, that was no doubt in charge of the game. Sato frowned at it, but followed directions to line up, staggered so one one was directly behind, or in front, of the row behind or in front of them.

~***~

Brad’s consideration made sense. Dodgeball would eliminate quite a few, though Katya,124, knew she wouldn’t excel at that, even if she could run around. Her hand-eye coordination weren’t the best. The thought lingered even as she intervened, wondering how she might survive a game like that. Using people as shields seemed ideal.

Though, using Brad as a shield wasn’t ideal if their alliance was to remain. And he seemed nice so far. Plus, he liked animals. Not that it was a hard trait to find in people, but he seemed all right.

There were probably enough other tall and broad people around.

Thankfully, she was at least off to a good start with peace making! 375 chose to back off, and the red-head didn’t seem intent to continue the harassment.

89 hadn’t started it, in his mind. “Thanks,” he said, once 375 had gone off some ways, “She was really getting on my nerves,” he said, starting to walk to the game with this new duo, and into the arena where the strange robot was. His brows lifted, amusement once again shining in his eyes before he laughed out loud.

Perhaps the only one, as it had a way of unnerving everyone else.

Katya found herself agreeing with Brad far more than the laughing man. “Well. Hopefully they’ll let us have some coffee.” Try to stay up and avoid not having any nightmares.

“It’s so childish, you guys are really bothered buy it?” Ryan teased, “It’s not even uncanny valley levels of unnerving.”

Katya bit the inside of her cheek, smiled, shrugged, “I guess I scare easy,” not true. She did jump easily, but she wasn’t actually easy to scare.

“Players, we will be playing Simon Says. You must perform the actions that Simon Says.” The intercom voice said. “Anyone who does not perform the action, will be eliminated. Anyone who performs an action that Simon does not say, will be eliminated. The game will last until Simon Says it is over.”

 

[JayMessi]

Benni, 109, figured that his new friend didn’t see or overhear the interaction that landed caused his current position, or she might’ve not offered her hand. She might’ve had a couple of more questions. Either way he took the hand once more, although he didn’t need it the gesture gave him a form of comfort. Once on his feet, he acted exclusively as an observer to his friend’s and the blonde’s interaction.

There were some key take aways. 333 and 36 definitely knew each other, 36 had lied about his whereabouts in a previous conversation, and Benni was going to be used as a scapegoat for the man to reveal the reasoning behind his lies. The nature of their relationship was still a mystery.
36, unlike his acquaintance, had definitely seen the interaction between Benni and Luis, and he had every right to be suspicious. Benni had expected his 333 to reject him as soon as her ally expressed his hesitation, but she didn’t.

“He’s with us.”

That statement caused the trace hints of a smile to develop on Benni’s face, the most outward expression he had taken on since he’d gotten here.

The blonde’s promise to talk only made Benni slightly concerned. He wasn’t much of a talker and there wasn’t much he felt like he wanted to explain. Hopefully the focus would be centered on his not so successful trip to Japan.

He felt 36’s eyes on him in an all too familiar way, he was accessing him to see if he would be of value to them. He also understood he was appealing as a teammate in especially strength orientated competition. in the same way that Micheal might be of value to him. Benni was young, based on his earlier assessment he might’ve been one of the youngest people in this place, and he was also healthy and fit. He had a natural advantage that would come of use in most games as long as they weren’t trivia or knowledge based.

He really wasn’t familiar with a lot of children’s games, but he was good at taking orders. He hadn’t even considered the game aspect of this whole thing until now, unconcerned about strategy until now right as he was lining up in a position near the two others waiting for the game to begin. He made sure to set himself closer to 333 and further from 36 offering a quiet ‘thank you’ before the game was announced.

Simon Says.

He’d heard of the game. Maybe played it when he was younger, but he couldn't recall. But the rules were easy enough. He was fairly certain as long as he concentrated he would make it through this round.


------
“Anne with an E? Like Anne of Green Gables.” Sophie, 422, mentioned, flashing Anne a grin. “I read that when I was a kid. It’s a book my dad gave me. It’s supposed to be a classic.”
Sophie noted Sato’s mention of a casino. Maybe that’s why he was here. Sophie had already put together the only people who would take such a sketchy offer was desperate. Just like she was. She was on the verge of going back to him when she called.

“I like card games like poker. Or like Egyptian Ratscrew. Ones that involve strategy. I could never stand ones that are based purely off chance, I’m far too competitive for that.” She stated just as she went to fill out her paperwork. She took her picture with a light smile, managing to get in the room just as they were announcing people to line up. She positioned herself close to Sato, figuring of the three she still favored him the most.

“You know if we are all being honest here, I’ve never been to a casino or jail either.” Sophie commented.

“Well, I’ve never been to a casino.” Isaac chimed in. “I always spent my money too quickly to have any money to lose at one.”

“Simon Says.” She repeated upon the announcement, glancing over at Sato before the game officially began. The robot must’ve been Simon, it was weird they’d spend so much money on this thing for such a simple concept. They could’ve easily had one of those masked guys just announce each move, and the game would’ve been the same. It must’ve been for theatrics, but why did they have to make him look like that? At least she wouldn’t have to play against him. “We got this one in the bag, right teammate?”

She flashed him a smile to assure him.

--------

Isaac, 5, thought that the robot was a bit freaky, but cool. His eyes set on it a bit too long, trying to determine if the smile one it’s face was welcoming or menacing. He had found a spot. Sato was to his left, and Anne was in front. The game was Simon Says.

A few years ago he probably would’ve been bad at this game. Far too spacy to adequately follow orders, especially when they tried to trick you by stating a command without saying ‘simon says’. But prison changes people. He was much better at paying attention to commands now. Plus, he now had incentive to make it through this game. He’d like to stay with his new acquaintances a bit longer. He’d always loved meeting new people, and it seemed as if the four had naturally found some sort of common ground.

“The game will now begin.”

The announcer informed the group. Isaac swallowed away the ball of anxiety that was beginning to take form.
This will be fun.

-------
“Dude, that thing is like fifteen feet tall. It could totally crush you. You don’t think that’s at least a little scary?” Brad asked, looking over to the redhead. He wasn’t thrilled to have this guy hang around them. But he had been the most vocal thus far, and honestly made Brad look better in comparison. So he wasn’t going to object to the other’s presence. Brad’s eyes lingered, two rows ahead of him was Karen. But she didn’t seem interested in bothering them.

He furrowed his brows as the announcer stated the game.

Simon Says?

Who the hell loses Simon Says?

How would this make for good television? Alright, well Brad, 62, wasn’t the one calling the shots on this. He was just here to play. At least an easy game would ensure that he made it to the next round, and hopefully his new-hopefully soon to be more than friend-Kat would make it to the next one as well.

“The game will now begin.”

“Simon Says...Stand on one foot!” The voice that the robot had was a deep baritone, not anything unlike the overzealous dramatic tone of voice of a game show host.

Okay.

Brad lifted his leg. He was on one foot now.

Followed by mechanical noises followed by a pop that echoed through the room. Was that fireworks...or a gunshot?

“Player 24 has been eliminated.” The announcer informed.

----------

Brenda had the misfortune of finding a spot next to three kids. Well, not kids, but early twenty year olds that didn’t really have a reason to take the game seriously. Of course, it was all kind of silly and ludicrous, but they were shoving each other and messing around until Simon announced his first command. Brenda had no problem balancing on one foot as the announcer said. Of course the first couple of rounds would be easy.

The kids were cackling at the sound of the robots voice paired with it’s lifeless stare. One of the kids was laughing so hard, they could hardly keep their balance on one foot.

“Don’t fall! Don’t fall!” The two near him beckoned until finally he lost his balance.

What followed was strange, obviously the kid was eliminated but before the announcement of his elimination rang overhead there was a bang and the kid crumpled onto the floor. The two kids closest to him paled on sight.

What the hell was going on?

 

[Lucyfer]

Gabriella, 333, gave a smile and a wink as 109 offered his gratitude. Her brother, 36, was a good person, usually. They had their issues, and they apparently had a lot more to work through, but it could all wait until after this game of Simon’s Says. Not a game Gabriella expected any issues with.

The only one she worried about was Michael – but the military should have helped him with that respect for authority thing, right?

The first request came, with the necessary ‘Simon Says’, so Gabriella lifted her leg. She was glad not to be in heels doing this, and she watched out of the corner of her eye as her brother, and 109, followed suit.

Not everyone managed to hold the position, there was a group up near the front, though further down the line, that was apparently getting a kick out of this. One of them lost their footing – and then with a pop, crumbled to the ground. The laughter of their friends died.

Gabriella attempted to lean forward.

“Don’t.”

It was a powerful hiss from Michael, and it sunk like a stone into her gut, just before one of those near the fallen one began to scream, and lost their own position as they dropped before the one on the crowd.

“HEY DUDE, GET UP, YOU’R—”

Another pop.

“Player 411 has been eliminated.”

“Hold.” Michael said, tension in his voice. “If you move, you will be shot.”

“Simon Says put one hand behind your head.”

Michael did so. Gabriella did so.

Another of the kids started to yell, “What kind of fucked up game is this? They’re dead! You shot them, the—”

Pop.

“Player 278 has been eliminated.”

The chaos began behind them, perhaps the single advantage of being in the front. Gabriella could feel tears beginning to stream down her face as the pops began in earnest, to a cacophony of screams, cries, and thuds that became increasingly…wet. Her lip trembled.

Michael’s jaw was tense, but he, also, stayed still, stayed forward, refusing to look back. He just looked at the lifeless robot, and saw the holes in the wall that opened up, where only the end of a gun’s barrel could be seen. He twitched and flinched a bit with each shot…but he held.

~***~

‘Oh, it’s a classic.’ Anne, 88, thought, both with the negative and positive connotations it held. Still, at least that was a brief, common interest the two shared, and it seemed this group of adults – not that anyone was actually a kid – had some potential for good synergy. She didn’t mind these three terribly. Yet.

“Looks like between us all we might know a few games,” she noted, before they had all started to split, with 299 heading off and 402 not far behind him. Plenty of card games, that’s for sure, and a bit of dominos. Maybe some dice games from the casinos. “You know, after this, we should go to a casino to celebrate,” Anne suggested, “We’ll have the money to blow – hopefully.”

It had to be a lot, right? And if only two came out ahead, it was split between them.

2 million between two was still a million each. More than enough for her, and her mother. Enough to save for her kids’ colleges and futures. She hoped. Probably not enough to stop working, with all that, but…enough.

They were in the room, and near enough to 299 and 402, when the game began, and Anne lifted her foot on command.



Nearby, Sato, 299, had nodded to 402. This was an easy game. In theory, anyways. Someone always tripped up, thinking they heard ‘Simon Says’, or just getting into the rhythm of following commands, that they forgot to wait for the ‘Simon Says’. Still, he expected the first one to be that – that’s usually how it began – and he lifted his left foot up.

Legs went up. Everyone listened, but someone lost their balance. ‘Already.’ Sato’s smile was at first amused as he saw the fumble a few lines up…and then there was a pop, and the fumble became a fall. Followed shortly afterwards by one of those nearby dropping to their side…and then another pop, and another fall.

‘Oh.’

Dread began to rise as the next order came, and with a shaking hand, Sato lifted his behind his head while someone began to yell.

They were dead.

They were shot.

What color Sato had began to fade, as the crowd began to surge, some to assess this, and others, to head towards the door in an attempt to escape, not questioning it after the pops, and drops.

Especially not after the third drop.

Sato saw rapidly more panels in the wall ahead open as people surged to get further back, and pops began to ring out. He wasn’t sure if he was frozen in fear, shock, or what – but he was frozen all the same. Likely, for the best, as he realized he was doing his utmost to hold position when people ran by him, and all but ran into him. Some did collide, but he managed to quickly correct himself.

Perhaps the game was generous enough for those stuck in the situation; he wasn’t shot when his tone briefly touched the ground and he lifted it back up.

Anne had gone completely rigid during all of this, though it was far more intentional. Someone had fallen dead in front of her. Ingrained in her upbringing was a simple rule of childhood: don’t fight authority on their turf.

That was a way to get shot. And that had always been her mother’s warning.

So, Anne stayed still, and did her best not to look down as a woman bled out onto her white shoes. Did her best not to whimper, or cry, and bit her bottom lip in the effort not to burst.

She didn’t sign up for this.

~***~

The chaos began ahead of them – Katya and Ryan, 124 and 89, could see it unfolding too easily. Katya couldn’t get her eyes off of it, and almost missed the command. Had it not been for seeing other people moving, she may have missed it completely, but she managed to get her hand behind her head in the time required.

She considered running.

“This can’t be happening,” her voice was almost a squeak.

“It is,” Ryan’s tone was grim, but he mustered enough courage not to try running. People were falling around them. They had been near enough, but back enough, to be the main area in which people were running – beyond them, but past them.

“I’m going to be sick.”

“Simon didn’t say get sick.” Ryan remained grim, but Katya understood the honesty of that, and did her best to hold her ground against the surge, trying to be smaller than she was, drawing her leg further in, moving her elbow further in, and squeezing her eyes shut tightly.

Ryan, however, did not take his eyes off the chaos.

He understood one thing now, a very dangerous thing: all of their lives were worth something. The prize depended on how many of them were eliminated.

Were some people worth more?

Ryan eyed those who remained standing, doing his best not to shudder with each pop.

“Please…please help….”

Someone wasn’t quite dead, and he saw them reaching out for the pant leg of 62, as if anything could be done to save them, now that they’d broken the cardinal rule of the game and disobeyed their overlord, Simon.

As if humor could be injected into the moment, Ryan said loudly enough, “Well, now it’s gonna haunt my nightmares.” The screaming might have made it impossible to hear, but Katya heard, and a primal hatred of Ryan rose in that moment, that he could joke, while people were dying around them.

She still didn’t dare to open her eyes, though.

 

[JayMessi]

Benni identified the first pop as gunfire immediately. He was all too familiar with the sound. The second and third just confirmed the fact.

It took everything within him not to duck low to the ground, since that was what he was trained to do in the situations. Get low to the ground, find cover, and hope you don’t get struck by a stray bullet if unarmed. But the bullets weren’t erratic, they weren’t shot to cause harm to whoever they could strike. They were targeted, and it didn’t take more than a moment to realize that they were targeted specifically at those who lost the game.

This is what they meant by eliminated.

Fuck.

Benni complied with Simon’s next command, his hand setting behind his head.

He took a stabilizing breath, his eyes flickering to his two acquaintances momentarily to ensure they had already come to the same conclusion he had. It seemed like 36 had it covered in informing 333, so he turned his gaze forward once more before letting his eyelids fall in attempt to hone in on the instructions of Simon and in attempt to block out the chaos that was inevitably ensuing around them.

People were running, screaming, begging for their lives frantically trying to escape. More gunshots ensued, and the announcer listed each player as they were eliminated. There must've been dozens at this point. He swallowed hard but remained rather stable during the panic. His heart jumping with every gunshot, but he didn’t let that physically show.

It seemed as if Simon had halted his commands as more bullets went off, so the players who weren’t being eliminated were stuck trying to hold their balance, one hand behind their head.

------------


Sophie lifted her leg, and it seemed almost immediately someone was eliminated. Guess someone couldn’t hold their balance.

But wait, what was that sound? Now there was yelling. Two more pops.

Oh God. Oh no.

They were killing people. No, not just people, those who lost the game. She felt her balance falter slightly but not enough for her to lose stability on the one foot entirely. She could hear her heart racing in her chest, which nearly drowned out all noise around her and her vision was blurring. It wasn’t until she felt moisture just below her eye that she realized she was crying. She almost completely lost the second command of the game, but regained her bearings just in the knick of time, as she caught a glimpse of Sato in between hand was placed behind his head and although she didn’t hear the command, she did the same.

She took a few audible frantic breaths as she tried to reconstruct herself, hold it together. If she wanted to survive she had to hold it together. Her eyes widened as she noticed Sato’s toe touching the ground, afraid that her new friend was about to get eliminated as well but the action seemed to have gone overlooked by the show runners in the midst of the chaos for. She was grateful for that, but they weren’t out of the woods yet. Not by a longshot.

Her eyes flickered towards Anne to check in on her as well. She stifled back a scream of her own as she realized there was a body at Anne’s feet. She seemed relatively still and calm despite the fact, but maybe she had simply been stunned in fear.

Her eyes then traveled over to Isaac, who looked absolutely stunned. The little pigment he did cary in his pale complexion had long washed, and at this point his head was over his shoulder, eyes flickering around the area as he took in the scene and contemplated running himself. His eyes were glassy, filled with tears that had left a streak on his cheeks. He was on the verge of it and it was when Sophie saw him begin to move to plant his foot on the ground that Sophine intervened.

“Don’t!” She shouted, causing Isaac to meet her gaze. “They’ll kill you. Just...please don't. Please just play the game. All of us. We need to just play the game.”

She said, there was a tremble in her voice and even as her hand was planted on her head it was trembling. She might've been eliminated herself monetarily, and there wasn’t so much other motion as people scrambled the door just to be executed.

Isaac headed Sophie’s warning, lifting his foot a little higher from the ground and keeping his hand behind his head. He didn’t know why he wanted to run in the first place. He was, of course, aware of the consequences of doing so. He had witnessed it. It was some sort of primal reaction that wanted to kick in against his other judgement.

“This is so fucked up…” He stated weakly. Who the hell killed people for losing a kids game?

-----

This wasn’t what he thought....was this even a reality show? Some type of cruel prank show.

No, it seemed real. It seemed real enough at least that he knew he had to keep playing. Brad was able to keep his bearings, keep one leg up, and a hand behind his head despite everything that was going on around him. He was frightened, of course, but it didn’t take long for the fear to wash over him and survival became his main priority. Those who obeyed Simon survived.

A player who’d been shot crawled towards him begging for mercy. Attempting to grab at him, the grip of this person would cause him to lose his balance. But it wasn’t like he could pull away from the person either if he wanted to play the game properly. So he let the eliminated player grip his pant leg before immediately taking a shot to the head. Blood and brain matter ruined the previously stainless tracksuit, and the man fell limp against his foot.

Jesus Christ. It was only in hindsight that he heard 89’s comment. It took everything within him to not punch the guy in the face. He instead strayed his bright eyes towards Kat who was keeping her eyes close. That was probably for the best.

“You’re okay. It’ll be okay.” He assured her. “We just...have to win the game, and then we will find a way out of this. Okay?” Even with her eyes closed he flashed her a reassuring smile, one that was artificial in nature because fear riddled eyes didn’t quite match the movement. The gun fires continued but gradually began to grow less consistent, as more players figured out that running was a death sentence and those who did run had already been picked off.

Despite 89’s comment being entirely inappropriate at the moment, there was some truth behind it. Brad couldn’t help but glance down at the man at his feet and come to agree that the scene would definitely cause nightmares.

-----

Brenda was frozen in fear which might’ve been the only reason he had survived this far. The bullets were being rattled off less consistently still until the firing finally halted. Leaving essentially a sea of body in the wake. How many were dead? Player numbers had been announced overhead consistently throughout the entirety of this, but it was nearly impossible to keep track of. By the end of it all, it was hard to tell if the living outnumbered the dead.

“I will now repeat the instructions. You must perform the actions that Simon Says.” The intercom voice said. “Anyone who does not perform the action, will be eliminated. Anyone who performs an action that Simon does not say, will be eliminated. The game will last until Simon Says it is over.”

“I will now repeat the instructions. You must preform the actions that Simon says. Anyone who does not preform the actions will be eliminated. Anyone who preforms an action that Simon does not say, will be eliminated. The game will last until Simon Says it’s over.”

“Simon says... put your foot on the ground!” This round must’ve been out of mercy, as Brenda didn’t know how much longer she could stand with her foot in the air.

“Put your hand in the air!” Simon announced, and a handful of frazzled individuals did so causing about five or more shots to ring and five or so more numbers to be announced.

 

[Lucyfer]

Gabriella, 333, was all but shaking with sobs at that point, but she was able to lower her leg when the command came, staring ahead with moisture in her eyes that kept rising and blurring everything. Well, apparently Saw had been a generous assumption. No one here had the option to not get shot.

‘Well, if they played the game right….’

More tears.

A hitched sob. She nearly lifted her hand, but heard a hissed snap from her brother, and managed to keep her hand behind her head – simply adjusting it. ‘Okay. Pay attention, Gabriella. Pay attention. Pay attention. You can do that. You passed every test in your life, so pay attention.’ She shuddered with each shot.

She continued to cry quietly.

‘This is why you never stood a chance at saving the world.’

Oh, what a terrible thought, to be reminded that the innate nature of humanity was not good. That it wasn’t simple misunderstandings by culture and religion. Some people were just…evil. How or why, she had no answers…never would. How could anyone do something like this, set up all these people, for this?


Orders continued to come. Michael, 36, followed them – making that hiss-snap when either his ‘new friend’ or Gabriella looked like they might fuck up, by either not following an order, or following a wrong order. The fear had dug into people. That was evident. People were either too slow to follow a right action, or too fast to follow a wrong one.

For his part, Michael noticed that the stranger didn’t seem to mess up much. He didn’t shudder much around the sound of shots, either. Michael suspected he had some experience, which would go along with what he’d witnessed, but now wasn’t the time to ask those kinds of questions. Now was the time to make sure the two people under his wing didn’t fuck up too badly and get shot themselves.

He couldn’t live with himself if Gabriella died.

And she’d be a mess if her new friend perished, too.

Bit, by bit, he found a groove in listening to the voice over the sounds of the dying, and ignoring those very voices.

~***~

Sato glanced over at his companion as he heard her breathing, trying to will her to calm down as he forced himself to take slower, deeper breaths himself. ‘Breathe. Breathe. Don’t hyperventilate. Don’t harm yourself.’ They could all get through this, every single one of them, and then get out.

Sato recalled that last clause.

He may be dying – but he was not dying like this.

The money wasn’t worth that. No amount could be worth the possibility of dying violently on a gamble, because one thing stuck out to him: most games were competitive. With teams. Which meant, on a team, he’d be responsible for other people dying.

There would be blood on his hands. This money, for his family, would be won by blood.

A shout drew his attention to Anne, and then Isaac, and he realized who Sophie was speaking to. It was enough, it seemed – and the game wasn’t shooting Isaac yet for looking back. Another, small, mercy.

“Yeah. It is.” Sato agreed, managing to keep his voice still. “But we can end this after the game with a vote.” He thought they should remember, too. That could give them hope. He heard a small whimper from Anne, before more commands came.

First a good one, to lower the leg.

Then a wrong one. Shots went off.

“Simon Says, take one step forward.”

Steps were taken.

Anne, 88, found her step had to take her, quite literally, on top of the body. She couldn’t step over it – the body laid vertically in her path. Stepping diagonally didn’t cross her mind. Like a frightened rabbit, forward meant forward, and she stepped forward rather than risk a slight left, or right, in that.

Anne refused to look down as she had to perform other actions, on top of a literal, dead body, until mercy would be given to step back, or forward enough.

She didn’t even dare to look at her new allies.

She felt disgusted enough with herself for this desecration.

~***~

Katya, 124, did not open her eyes as she heard Brad speaking over the din. She heard him. And she managed a subtle bit of nodding, too afraid to move against anything Simon didn’t say. And she heard Simon, very clearly, as he allowed them to lower their feet.

Her eyes remained shut even through the action. “Okay,” she murmured, more to herself than Brad, “Okay.” She’d trust him. They’d get out of this, and everything would be fine. The clause in the game didn’t occur to her at all, as it did Sato, and perhaps others. She imagined she’d have to go through all of these games – or find an escape.

Could she find an escape?

Six days.

Six games.

A command came without Simon’s words, and more shots.

Then another to step forward, and for this, Katya did open her eyes. She saw the body and blood near Brad, and held back that instinctive urge to vomit. ‘Simon didn’t say get sick.’ Forward she went.

A few more commands, and then she almost followed a wrong one, because she heard 89 whispering, “Hey. Simon said.”

The person in front, whom he seemed to have directed it towards by leaning forward slightly, flinched, and quickly acted to the wrong command – unable to see those behind him hadn’t, in fact, folded their arms over their chest. The people around the one in front had already perished.

And he did next, as well.

‘No. No, no, no, I didn’t….’ Katya wanted to deny what she’d just heard. She had imagined it, right? No one could do that, even in a competition…right? No one would be so careless with lives for a bit of money…right?

Her head was spinning, but she had enough sense to decide not to listen to 89, and try to keep her focus on the one she knew she could trust, Brad, who had sense enough to have been afraid of the robot from the start. Who liked animals. Who had a kind smile, and was reassuring.

‘It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay….’

A mantra she couldn’t let override what she actually heard.

 

[JayMessi]

Once the gunshots seemed to cease, Benni let his eyes open again, glancing to his side to ensure the other two were still alive. Although he was already confident they had survived, since he could hear 33’s sobs throughout the carnage alongside 36’s commands to attempt to keep her alive.

No, them alive.

Benni had almost faltered once or twice, his arm would twitch on instinct once the sickeningly enthusiastic baritone said almost anything but he’d catch himself on time not to actually perform the false commands. He felt 36’s eyes on him, making a settle hiss everytime Benni made a slight movement to something he shouldn’t have.

Even though he didn’t know or trust Benni, he was being protective. Why?

36 had managed to hold it together the best of the three of them, which indicated he had some form of experience with this sort of thing. People don’t remain this lucid their first time, at least Benni didn’t the first time he experienced a mass shooting, and 333 certainly wasn’t doing so well now. Was 36 in a gang? Or perhaps grew up in a neighborhood where gang violence was prevalent. If not, maybe he was a cop, but Benni had never experienced a pig handle the gunshot so well. Maybe he had been in the military.

Ultimately Benni had to stay focused in the moment at hand. He had to pass the game and hope the other two would as well.

“Focus.” He said quietly too 333 without moving his lips in fear of getting caught doing more than Simon commanded. There was no way that they could monitor everyone who was still leaving, even though a good chunk of them had died at this point. He had noticed subtitles didn’t trigger an elimination as long as you didn’t get caught. “Don’t listen so much. Copy him. He knows what he’s doing.”

Benni had started doing the same a few rounds ago, finding his instinct to respond to whatever the voice commanded was too strong. It was risky putting his trust in a stranger, but 36 had been playing the game with almost perfection up to this point.

---

Sophie took a deep breath in relief once Isaac was spared from being eliminated. Her eyes couldn’t help but fixate on the body that lingered in front of Anne, especially when they were given the command to step forward. Her eyes flickered away finding something else to fixate on giving Anne the courtesy of not looking, because it was evident what she would have to do.

Sato had pointed out something that sparked some hope in Sophie. There was a way out, the final clause. They could take a vote and there was no doubt the majority of the players would opt out now knowing their life was on the line. No one had signed up for these stakes. Maybe this was the only game they had to get through, and they could do it as long as they didn’t let the fear take over and cloud their judgement with the commands. But Sophie couldn’t help but feel herself flinch as she heard another pop, her body reacting as if it was her the bullets were aiming for.

Just a few more rounds. She could make it. They might let them leave after this. The money wasn’t worth her life.

Isaac wanted to evade his glance when he realized that Anne was going to have to step on the body in front of her, following Simon's command. But he couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t be blamed as he didn’t seem as coherent in this moment as most of the other members of the group, his hands less steady, and the only reason he was making it through was he was watching his teammates and following suit.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been around a body, not by a long shot. But something like this? It was different. He had not thought of the clause before Sato had mentioned it earlier. He could still make it back; he just had to pull it together. Think about his son. He didn’t want to die before seeing his son again, he never even got around to sending off those birthday cards.

It took a while, but he began to get more desensitized to the sound of the shots. He was still fully aware of how messed up the situation was, and still couldn’t help but mourn the lives lost internally briefly with every shot. But it took less and less effect as he got better at following the correct command.

-----

Kat would have to figure out things on her own now, as there was not much Brad could do from prevent her from making a mistake but maybe perform the tasks correctly himself. Take a step forward, okay.

He managed to shake off the corpse that laid on him, but one foot was still planted on top of the body making the aspiring actor a little sick to the stomach as well. Still he didn’t have any issues following the correct orders once given.

He jumped when they said to.

He turned around when they said to.

He didn’t duck, because Simon didn’t say to.

All considering, he was doing well.

So was 89, Brad noticed, he was hardly even seen shaken by what was happening around them. He was just close enough to the other to be able to hear Brad’s whispers, only understanding what he said afterwards due to the combination of the loose syllables he heard mixed with the immediate action of someone who would’ve passed being shot down.

That dude was fucked up.

What did he have to gain from doing that? Was he still playing this like a competition? Brad assumed they were going to hold a vote or revolt directly after this game, as no one would actually bet their lives in order to earn some cash. If they weren’t allowed to actually hold a vote and leave, then the plan was probably to legitimately kill everyone in these sick and twisted games, and no one would actually earn the money.

Still, if the game didn’t have such dire stakes, it would’ve been a good strategy.

Brad was thankful that Kat who had been closer to 89 didn’t fall for the tactic.
There was one other, besides the dead, who overheard 89’s trick. Number 212, Luis Aguilor was standing right beside 89’s. Sure the dire stakes had come as a surprise, but he had not been as shaken as most of the other contestants once this whole thing started. He was confident he would get through this round because he, well, was not an idiot. He was not dumb enough to run whenever the shots began, and he was not dumb enough to get tricked by the lack of Simon’s Says at the beginning of a command.

But he was intrigued by the red head’s strategy. A feat he himself wasn’t bold enough to try, but perhaps it was because he hadn’t thought of it first. He didn’t think that someone would be fooled by something so simple, but now there was one less player to compete against due to the red head’s intervention.

He took note of the other. An alliance might be beneficial in the future.

----

“Simon says…the game is now over! Congratulations to all our winners!” The bot chimed before the light behind its eyes faded and the used carsman robot slumped over to indicate it was powered down.

Brenda froze in place momentarily, too scared to move in case this was another trick. There was another voice over the intercom.

Congratulations to all our winners. Please follow the instructions of the staff and follow to them to the main lobby in an orderly fashion.”“

Was the game really over?

 

[Lucyfer]

Action, after action, after pause. The game continued for what was both a lifetime, and a heartbeat. Though Gabriella, 333, knew more than one heartbeat had passed. Her heart was beating too rapidly for that. It was still banging in her ears after the repetition of the congratulations, that the game was over, that they had to listen to the staff and follow out.

That meant turning around.

Being at the front had shielded her from the sight of the dead, but turning around…she’d see it all. She knew that, and felt herself freeze at the consideration of it.

Michael, 36, didn’t.

He turned around to the horror of sprawled bodies, looked to Gabriella, and then walked to where she was. Wordlessly, he covered her eyes. “Come on,” he murmured, knowing he’d have to cut a careful path to make sure she didn’t stumble over any dead bodies.

Perhaps she would have to face it.

That could come later. Right now…this was a horror she didn’t need to see, with blood and brain matter spattered about everywhere. The real horror was in the open eyes and the trails of blood from those who tried to crawl…as well as the stacks of bodies near the wall. Near the door. Those had been shoved aside to make a path, of course.

The staff was good enough for that.

Gabriella followed the direction, feeling her own cowardice sink in, but accepting the mercy for what it was. Bit, by bit, they walked, and when they were out of the room and back into the pink nightmare stairs of a maze, Michael let her see again.

They walked in silence, plans to talk fading into the heavy air of regret, until they reached the room of the beds…a room which already had less beds in it.

Gabriella kept walking even when Michael paused to await information that no doubt had to follow. “Hey….”

She didn’t seem to hear, just walked to the end, where someone in a circle mask was. “I’d like to go home now.”

He didn’t so much as speak.

Gabriella repeated herself, her own voice distant, “I’d like to go home, please.” Michael looked at her from afar helplessly, but didn’t go to join her, and quietly hoped she wasn’t going to get shot for whatever she was saying. She was too far from him to hear.

~***~

Anne, 88, had jumped on a dead body.

Anne had clapped on a dead body.

Anne would never have the words to explain what she had to do, to anyone, let alone herself, and that quiet horror would haunt her far more than the robot. When the congratulations came, she lifted her head as if waking from a dream, and as others began to move, she stepped off of the body she had been standing on.

Turned, and saw the horror in front of her, and promptly dropped to her knees – already of questionable integrity from what she was doing – into limp horror.

Sato, 299, had been too far to offer his own hand, though he saw Anne fall, and understood.

He went to her, and offered both hands, “Hey. Come on. We have to vote.”

“What’s the point?” Anne’s voice cracked. “More than half…this must be more than half….”

“That still leaves maybe 200 of us,” that was a little less than half. Maybe that was optimistic. “Come on, Anne. If you stay….”

If you refuse to play….

Anne stared up at him, a kind of desperation in her gaze, before she took in the other two – and reached out to be helped up. Sato did, and he didn’t let her go, but wrapped her arm over his shoulders, and put one around her waist. She wasn’t hurt…but it was evidently a lot for her to take in.

She didn’t need to stumble…or step on anymore bodies. He intended to try and lift her if that was necessary.

Thankfully, it wasn’t.

He looked to Isaac, and his first companion. “Stupid question, but…everyone going to recover?” Asking if they were okay was the real stupid question, but if someone needed a quick intervention…well, he could try. Or help in some other way.

~***~

The horror was over.

Katya, 124, could be sick now.

The relief fell like a hammer, the adrenaline fading in a rush that left Kat shaking, before she had sense enough to save her hair, before she retched, adding to the mess. Not the most flattering action, but who could really claim anything about this mess was flattering.

The metallic stench of blood and bullets made everything feel hazy.

“Hey, chin up,” Ryan, 89, patted her on the back, almost hard enough to send her forward and to the ground. It wouldn’t have normally, but she was still trembling from adrenaline, and sick.

Kat’s reaction was still immediate, once she had enough of her balance, and she swiped her hand up to elbow his arm and knock it off of her. “Woah – hey, sorry, got it, no touch.” Her eyes were more wild than angry, still not quite willing to accept she’d heard him correctly when he – no, he couldn’t have, wouldn’t, didn’t.

She swallowed.

Nodded a silent acceptance of the apology.

“S-sorry,” as if she had anything to be sorry for, getting sick, and reacting that way. She flamed in embarrassment at her own stupidity, and her own sickness. Everything. Swaying, she just turned to leave.

She wanted a cup of water, and to wake up from this nightmare. ‘This isn’t…this can’t be….’

Stumbling over a body made her remember it was real enough…and she had to look down to watch her feet. ‘Kill me.’


Ryan just sighed, shrugged, followed on, unaware of who had taken note of him right then, just concerned with finding out how much the bodies were worth to these people. ‘If they’re selling the organs, probably a pretty penny. And hair for wigs. Teeth, bones….’ He didn’t know the prices on the black market, but he could imagine they could go for quite a lot.

They deserved a good cut of that for the entertainment they were providing the sickos who made this.

~***~

Oh, the drama of it all!

Betting in the first round was almost always fraught with loss, and so it had been for the VIP with the golden cat mask. Even in the safety of her home, while watching these games, she liked to wear it. She observed the game of Simon Says with mischief glinting in her eyes as she took in some of the obvious cliques that were being created, but even more than that, the movement of lips on player 89 – easy to see through how many were dead in front of him – and the action of one of those few in front remaining.

‘Oh, you play dirty.’

An impish smile came to her face as she recognized that, and decided going forward, she was placing her bets on him. She lifted her golden phone near her chaise lounge, and gave a call to the Frontman.

“Hello, this is the Frontman.”

“Hello dear,” she purred, “I’d like to add a bet to 89 to take it all, say for…oh, 10 million,” she said, dismissive about the amount, as if it were only $10. “I know my original horse here lost. I do hope you’ll be preparing something delectable when we all arrive from them.”

“Yes, preparations are already in order.”

“You’re such a sweetheart,” she cooed, “Thank you. I’ll be seeing you soon.” She didn’t bother to stay on the line, but hung up, wondering how many others had voted on 89. She knew it wouldn’t be all – they all had such differing tastes.

Some just went by numbers.

Others went by looks.

Some actually investigated the backgrounds of all the players, though the Cat simply didn’t have such time. And some, as the game got going, had personalities they looked for. The Cat always looked for the ones that played within the rules…but were dirty about it. She hadn’t expected it from the background of 89, something she vaguely remembered as ‘computers’.

This would be fun.

 

[JayMessi]

Benni allowed his tense muscles to relax a bit once the game concluded, holding his position until he noticed others around him begin to shift without consequence. He had not been looking forward to having to face the carnage either, but it clearly didn’t rattle him as much as it would his new associate. Luckily for her, the man she’d known from before the games shielded her gaze. They must’ve been close outside of here, Benni determined.

Former lovers, friends, or family. It didn’t really matter right now how they knew each other. It also didn’t matter the nature of the ones behind these games, or why someone would go through something so elaborate just to kill the majority of them off.

Probably for money. Or entertainment. That’s why people did most things.

Regardless, he had to get through this moment. So as 36 began to guide 333 he finally took a breath and took a turn and made his way through the bodies. It was uncomfortable, of course, seeing a dead body was never easy. Despite his prior experience, he had never seen so many at once, it was not unlike a warzone here. He held his breath as he made his way to the exit, examining the other survivors. It seemed as if everyone grouped off pretty fast, as he noticed a few groups of individuals with one or two of them less shocked consoling the others. A woman he had seen translating for a group reassuring the other three of the group that had survived. A Japanese man helping a woman to her feet, two others facing him indicating they had all paired off at one point. Three middle aged men whispering about the event. He put his focus forward as they moved to the next room, and he was thankful to be out of there.

Back in the original room the space looked emptier than it did before. The beds of the deceased had already been removed. He kept near 36 as 333 began to harass a staff member. It’d be to no avail, but it seemed like she needed it. His eyes were set on the staff member hoping he wouldn’t retaliate. He hoped she wouldn’t be shot.

She wasn’t the only one harassing a staff member, as more trickled in through the doorway more people began herding around the staff. They must’ve found power in numbers, because the more that joined the louder and unruly the crowd became.

----

Sophie was shaken. Sophie wasn’t going to be fine after this, not for a long time. But Anne was undoubtedly in worse shape. Sophie couldn’t blame her. She couldn’t imagine performing the same event on top of the body, so when Sato went to comfort her Sophie approached as well, at a safe distance not to crowd. She hugged herself, gripping her own arms to provide herself some form of comfort. Sophie was thankful Sato was making the attempt to get Anne on her feet and out of here, because Sophie couldn’t. She wasn’t strong enough to console someone at the moment, and the only thing that kept her stagnant-from breaking from the group-was the fact she wasn’t ready to move through a maze of the deceased.

Over half. Over half of them were dead. This was only the first game. Who knows how many would make it out alive by the end of it-maybe none of them.

There was still a promise of the vote. Maybe that will work.

But then again, maybe not.

Sophie blinked as she heard Sato address her, taking a moment to formulate the meaning of the words that he had spoken.

“Uh. Yeah. I’m fine.” She stated simply looking away. That was far from the truth, but it was the only thing she could muster at the moment.

Isaac swallowed hard. His hands were still trembling from the aftershock of it all. How could someone do something like this? They would have to make their way out of the room soon, upon inspection of the living they were some of the last few still in here. Plus, they might feel a little better...once they didn’t have this grim visual reminder of what had just happened. Now that the shooting had ceased he had been able to come to grip with just how many were eliminated. Too many.

“I...will be okay.” He said with a breath and a nod. His bright eyes setting on Annes momentarily before he turned his back towards them. “We need to get out of here…”

The two walls made of bodies weren’t a pretty sight. “I know it’s hard, but we got to go…”

“I agree.” Sophie nodded, glancing towards Sato. “You got her?” Moving next to Isaac and taking a harsh breath as she turned around to face the door. Isaac reached over and gripped her hand tightly, she returned his grasp as they headed towards the door.

In the hall, just outside of the main room they had started, another gunshot could be fired which made the too halt.

What is happening now?

---

Brad kept beside Kat, even as she vomited. He didn’t want her to feel alone after all this. He was shaken, but not as shaken as her.

“Hey, leave her the fuck alone, man. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Brad snapped at 89. It was long overdue. The man had been a prick since the moment he got here, and after that stunt he pulled during Simon Says he might’ve just been pure evil. He glared at the redhead before turning his attention back to Katya, offering her his hand.

“Come on, I’ll help you out of here. I’ll guide you out in a way that doesn’t….” He hesitated, not knowing what to say. “...I’ll help you out of here. See if we can get you some water or something, okay?”

Once in the appropriate room Brad had noticed that crowds had formed around the guards. Rightfully angry people demanding out, demanding their stuff back, demanding to be returned home. Things were about to take a turn, even with half of them dead they outnumbered the red suits. It wasn’t until a bullet was shot by a person wearing a square mask, not aimed at anyone but instead towards a ceiling, but the threat was enough to settle the crowd causing most of them to scream, duck, and silence their cries.

Luis waited idly until 89 had made his departure from the small group, before picking up his pace to make a move next to him. This was only the first game of six, and there would undoubtedly be a team game or two. Especially if this thing was being recorded for someone’s amusement. It’d be nice to make a few powerful and like minded friends. Even if there was an absence of team games, people were bound to get restless, desperate, and violent. There was power in numbers, more bodies meant protection, and this wasn’t really the sort off thing where you’d want to be a lone wolf.

“I saw that little stunt you pulled back there.” Luis mentioned, keeping his voice low as they entered the hallway and began to climb the stairs. “I gotta say I’m a fan. If you find yourself needing a partner, find me. I think we’ll do well together.”

 

[Lucyfer]

It wasn’t only Gabriella, 333, though she had been the first. She did not raise her voice to hysterical levels as others did, her plea was ever the same – a strange distance to it. All of them were cut off by a shot that came not from the guard in the circle mask but one in a square. Gabriella flinched backwards, but otherwise held her ground and stared at the staff.

“You all signed the rules. They clearly stated that you cannot leave the games. The games must be played, unless you want to be eliminated.”

No one wanted to be eliminated. They all knew what that meant. By then, Sato and his group had returned to the main room, and the commotion was obvious. “Stay with her,” he had a feeling they wouldn’t leave Anne behind, but he still felt a bit bad to disentangle himself from her and walk forward, determined, towards the front as people began pleading their case.

Parents cried out for a chance to return home and see their kids.

Those who didn’t understand were getting a gradual translation of events and crying out in their own languages, arguing with the translator as if it might improve things. Sato reached near the front, and finally pitched his voice to be heard, “Clause three – if the majority wants to end the games, the games will end.”

That reminder drew a hush.

Michael, 36, from where he stood near 109, even gave the stranger an appreciative stare for remembering that, where it seemed in the mess of it all, people were forgetting, caving to what the guards said about needing to play. The audible pause among the guards even hinted that they had preferred that misunderstanding, too.

‘Pricks.’

Anne held her breath, waiting for the shoe to drop. For a denial. A loophole.

~***~

Katya wasn’t quite sure how to take Brad’s reaction, still trying to convince herself she hadn’t heard 89 say anything at all. Typical male hostility? Stress? This game could stress anyone out, and evidently, whatever game show this was, it was terrible. Not a game show Katya wanted to be known for competing in.

She hesitated in taking his hand, but did so, following him through the bodies, still looking down. Taking in faces, unconsciously memorizing them, as if knowing them would somehow help. As if they’d appreciate a random stranger remembering them.

She didn’t have names.

Only numbers.

Number 14 with the black hair and freckles.

Number 431 with their face pressed to the ground in a way that made it look like they wore a lopsided, smuggler’s smile.

Number 302, fingers in their mouth for some reason, wide green eyes opened to nothing.

And then she was out, in the room of pink stairs from a dollhouse. It was almost dizzying, but she kept walking, kept her hand in Brad’s, as they eventually reached the main room, with less beds, and chaos that erupted over people wanting to go home. There’d be no getting water from the staff right now – but maybe something better. There was someone smart enough to remember that loophole.

“Oh.”

Something like hope flickered in her gaze. “We can get out of this,” she looked up at him, wondering if he was thinking the same thing.

~***~

The redhead, who had separated from that duo who seemed to find him offensive now, instead found himself courted by another stranger. He assessed 212, raising his brows. Well, at least someone understood how this worked. It was a game, after all. Sure, the dying part was a surprise, but all you had to do was play the game right.

“Seems like you’re the only one who gets it,” Ryan noted, nodded, “Yeah. If any of these games turn that way…you’ve got yourself a partner.” There could only be so many games that didn’t involve more direct competition, after all.

That was just human nature, after all. And Luis’s offer was further proof of that. He knew what it would take to win – and Ryan was willing to use and be used. He had been all his life. That was the only way he had any friends. He was nothing until he had something useful to offer.

Although as they entered the room, he saw things had devolved to people wanting out, and a way proposed. He huffed. ‘I can’t go back out there until I get enough….’

And a guard up front finally spoke to Sato’s declaration. “You’re right.” He said, “We can take a vote, but first, let’s announce the prize.” And it was there that a grin bloomed onto Ryan’s face.

‘Clever trick.’ Once people saw the money, the death of strangers wasn’t going to worry them all that much. It wasn’t like they were directly doing it. Other people were pulling the trigger. Quite literally.

And a casino-esque music sounded, the room lights dimmed, and down came a large, translucent piggy bank. The theatrics were enough to make Ryan laugh a bit to himself.

 

[JayMessi]

A vote will be interesting. The majority of the people here would most likely vote to leave this place, but whether or not the masked men kept their word on the matter and would actually release them is a different story.

Benni, 109, shifted in his place with the mention of the money. Was that an honest component about this game too. The music, a giant piggy game, the whole thing was far too needlessly extravagant. But like the rest of the room he watched as the bank filled up with money. Something about watching that whole thing take effect made this all seem slightly more worth it.

“For every player eliminated a hundred thousand dollars is added to the bank. In the last round, 210 people were eliminated which brings the total so far to 21 million dollars in the bank.” The masked man explained as the bank continued to fill around half way. Benni’s eyes widened as he took the amount in. There was a lot someone could do with that type of money, even if it was split between a few people. It’d be more than enough to persuade a few people here to stay.

“We will now hold a vote.” A panel opened allowing a podium with two buttons on it to rise from the floor. One was green and one was red. “When your number is called, step up to the podium. The green button will indicate that you would prefer to stay, the red one will be for if you want to leave. If the vote determines that the majority of players want to leave, the money collected so far will get dispersed among the family members of the deceased.”

“So after all ya’ll put us through, we can end up walking away here empty handed?” One woman chimed from towards the center of the room.

“Yeah, why not give us the money. We’re the ones who have to live with what just happened. It’s going scar us!”

The square mask disregarded the complaints.

“We will begin in reverse order.”
---------
Thank goodness for Sato.

Once he departed she placed her hand on Anne’s back in order to continue to try to soothe her.

“We’ll make it out of this. It’s almost over.” She promised.

Sato had mentioned the vote earlier, but she didn’t have the guts to call out to them and request for a vote. The amount of money in the bank didn’t sway her in the slightest. She’d rather have the opportunity to live than millions of dollars.

Sure, things were tight right now. She was living out of car most nights because rent wasn’t cheap and she’d yet to find a job despite spending most of her days trying. Even when she did it’d take her a couple of weeks to afford a deposit on a place. But she’d been through worse.

She chose to call the number that made her a participant in this hellshow, because if she didn’t she would’ve called her ex instead. This wasn’t the first time she attempted to leave him, but she wanted to make it her last. Even now she was considering giving him a call when and if she was able to get out of here. Not so much because he was financially stable, but more because she longed for comfort at the moment. And he could be comforting...when he wanted to be.

Sophie,422, was one of the first people to be called to the stand. A few people who held numbers after her must’ve been eliminated on the first challenge. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t look back on that beckoning piggie back full of cash. Fools gold, because the likelihood of dying here was much greater than the likelihood of winning. She pressed the red button and carried onward to the other side of the room with her arms folded across the chest.
---

Brenda, 375, made her way to the podium once called. She turned her head, looking back towards the money once more. There could be more than one winner, and she wanted to secure it for her family. At this point, it appeared as if the people who wanted to leave outweighed those who wanted to stay according to the votes casted this far.

She hit the green button.

Her life was already ruined, with this money she could fix it.

----

It’d be a while before Isaac could cast his vote, being number five he’d be one of the last few. So he stuck beside his group. He’d figured it was pretty unanimous between the four of them how they were going to choose. The money would be nice. But it wasn’t worth his life, the life of his friends, or even the life of the 210 people who had died in the previous game. He hadn’t even expected to win the money from the start, he had just come here to meet new people and have fun.

This wasn’t fun.

He still wanted the opportunity to go home and see his son for the first time outside of the prison uniform. He was supposed to be able to a few weeks ago, shortly after becoming a free man. But on the arranged date Emilia had expressed concerns about having him too involved in Isiah’s life. She said her and her current husband were a bit hesitant because of his past mistakes, worried now that he was out he might be susceptible to another relapse. As much as he wanted to argue that things had changed, that he had changed, he made the call to join the game after the conversation. After the temptation to buy a few grams of the junk with the money he’d gotten from the slap games had overcome him. But he didn’t. And that’s what mattered. He would be determined to change for Isiah.

He watched the numbers of the votes cast change on the screen that was presented to them, although leaving had a lead it was disheartening to see that the choice to leave wasn’t unanimous. Even now, his thoughts strayed to the idea that it would be nice to have one last fix, especially after a day like this.

---

“These people are too soft. Acting like they don’t know what this is.” Luis agreed with the redhead, and gave him a nod in acknowledgement. He knew that he couldn’t trust the redhead not to stab him in the back when necessary, but he’d do the exact same. So their grounds were neutral.

They knew what this thing entailed, it was naïve to sign up for this without the expectation of any blood, sweat, or tears being shed. Sure, there was no way Luis could’ve predicted that a childhood game would turn into a bloodbath. But that was the environment they were in now, and they had to adapt or die. A lot more blood had been spilled for a lot less money.

When it was his time to take his vote he didn’t even need to look back at the money to know he was already determined to stay. He had his own reasons for being here, and in as dire need of it as anyone else here. The people who voted to leave were just kidding themselves.

----

That was a lot of money. And for a moment Brad, 62, thought that it might be enough to persuade his decision. Maybe he would want to compete after all. The loan shark he was indebted to had threatened his kneecap first, life second. And he wasn’t really willing to part with either. He could always go running back to his dad for money, though. The stingy old prick wouldn’t be too receptive of his pleas, and there’d probably be enough strings attached to essentially make Brad a marionette of the man’s bidding.

But his life sure as hell was worth more than a hundred thousand dollars. And there was no way even if this was being filmed that it’d be accessible for a mainstream audience.

He looked back over to Kat, slow to respond and the grandiose prize had snapped his attention.

He swallowed hard, “We will get out of here, Kat.” He assured his ally. He at least knew how he was going to vote.

 

[Lucyfer]

Gabriella, 333, did not return to her brother and 109 immediately. She waited until her number was called, and made sure to hit red. She didn’t even hesitate. The money wasn’t worth it to her, to risk not only her life, but her brother’s life. She’d find another way to keep making ends meet, she’d find a way to help out her brother, too. Somehow. Someway.
Why couldn’t they have reconnected outside of the game, first?



Sato, 299, would take his own turn. He rejoined those others, and nodded to Anne, before passing on a grateful smile to Sophie and Isaac. Sophie was first among them to vote, and her vote wasn’t unexpected. What became disheartening was how many were in favor of the games continuing.

“It’ll be okay,” they still had a lead.

Sato knew he was speaking to himself, as well as to Anne and Isaac, as people began to move over to the side indicated after they had voted. The tensions were rising over there, and when Sato cast his vote to go home, it was palpable.



Katya, 124, tried to be reassured by Brad. She wanted to be, but that was hard with faces passing before her eyes, and the taste of her sick still in her mouth. She desperately needed water. Also mouthwash. A shower. Bleach for her eyes, for her brain…but these weren’t going to come soon enough.

Her vote came before Brad, but not before the tensions rose to a breaking point.

365 shouted out, “What is wrong with you people?” The lead those who wanted out had, broke. Those who wanted to stay were in the lead, and one had just voted that way, “Are you really willing to risk the lives of yourself and everyone here, just for a bit of money?”

The one who voted to stay on, 152, stared at them with a deadened expression, “I’m dead if I leave here without something.” It was clearly all the same to them, and they started to walk to the side of those who had voted, before the next walked up.

365 moved from their place to intercept, gripping their shoulders, “Please, please don’t keep us here, it’s not fair,” they began to shake the other a bit, unaware of what this person had already decided.

Another gunshot rang out. Kat flinched back, and 365 released their newest target.

“Nothing will be done to interrupt the voting,” the one in the square mask dictated. “Nothing will be done to influence others. This is a fair vote. You all know the terms. You can leave, and take home nothing, or you can continue to play, and take home whatever is won.”

365 looked like they might argue, but they slunk away.

Their target voted to leave, anyways.

It went on until Katya’s turn, the vote once more a bit evened out. Naturally, she voted to leave. The money was good – but she couldn’t leave Gollum and Meru without her.



Ryan, 89, had rolled his eyes at the brief argument before. When it came his turn to vote, he voted to stay. He was just as dead if he left here without nothing…these were longshot odds, but he’d take them over trying to figure things out.

He had noticed the Karen voted the same way. Now that they’d had their confrontation, he couldn’t help but stay aware of her, nor could he help going over towards her after his vote, a playful smirk on his lips.

“So, what is worth risking never seeing your kid’s soccer game again, huh?” He just pegged her as a soccer mom, and couldn’t resist teasing. However, he wouldn’t force an answer, left it rhetorical, “Look, I don’t like you, you don’t like me, but you’re not soft, and there’s 5 more games. I think a ‘I want to see your manager’ type could be useful on a team, and you gotta admit – you don’t have the strength for everything they could throw at us.”

Strength didn’t get one everywhere. He knew that better than most. It was his wit that took him most places. And that got him into trouble. Someone willing to confront things could be useful. Like that Japanese guy – only he clearly wanted out.



Anne, 88, muttered under her breath after 89’s vote, “No surprise there,” she was starting to shake off her shock, enough to recognize the three that had stayed by her, and to make sure her vote was to leave – for all of their sakes – before she’d find where Sato and 422 had gone and join them.

The numbers were still too close to be comfortable.



Michael, 36, noted how the numbers began to skew every further towards the lead of staying. He had a suspicion then about the numbers – that the earlier ones, were those who signed up first, and were likely the most desperate. Time hadn’t made his situation better in the least.

Perhaps, if it was just himself, he would have continued.

He even spared a glance back up at the pig, and considered how even just his worth – $100,000 apparently – would help immensely.

Were it just him…he knew how he would have voted.

It wasn’t just him, though.

It was Gabriella, and as always, he had his brotherly duty, thrust upon him from birth. He may be the younger brother, but he was still the big brother, and with a moment to shut his eyes and wish it all away, he hit the red button, before he’d trek through the crowd to find where she had ended up with their strange new companion.

Someone who was likely to leave their life, as soon as the vote finished…hopefully, so they could all get out of here.

 

[JayMessi]

Benni shifted his stance as he waited for his own turn to vote. He was conflicted, to say the least. His eyes followed 333 as she made her way to the podium, even with the temptation of the money dangling overhead she remained steadfast in the fact she wanted to leave this place. That was fair, she probably had a life outside of here. A family. Or was just compassionate enough to understand that the innocent people in here, the ones who remained, did not deserve to die just because they signed up for a game under vague pretenses. He kept his eye on the screen that showed how the vote was split, watched as those wanting to leave took the majority of the vote until the vote all but evened out.

Tensions were rising, as much could be expected at this point. Those who voted to stay were essentially signing a death sentence to those who wanted to leave. Those who wanted to leave were stripping away the ones that wanted to stay only chance for renewal.

“I’m dead if I leave here without something.”

That sentiment resonated with Benni all too deeply. Five thousand dollars was more than enough for a plane ticket, and if escaping his former life was as simple as that he would’ve never picked up the phone to dial the number written on the back of the business card. His former allies were easy enough to avoid once leaving the area, maybe relocating to something more rural as a precaution. He had survived off of less money before, and would figure out how to make more. But on that night, while flipping through the limited cable channels of the motel he had found himself in for the night he had caught a glimpse of a news broadcast describing a manhunt for him and two other gang members for a homicide that had been committed around two weeks beforehand, before Benni had gone on the run. Apparently they had managed to kill someone just influential enough to have the police actually investigate the case, rather than chalk it up to another instance of scum exterminating scum through gang disputes.

They didn’t have a picture of him, but a sketch that looked fairly accurate along with his full birth name. He hadn’t been the one to pull the trigger, but he had been present nonetheless. The information made travel nearly impossible, as most everything that would get him far enough fast enough would require the use of an ID. Federal prison would prove more dangerous to him than staying within city limits.

If he stayed here there was no guarantee he would survive the six games. But a bullet through his head still seemed much kinder of a fate than what he’d experience otherwise.

And if he did win, with that kind of money, he'd go off he grid. Find a new identity. He might finally have a chance to live on his own terms.

Once his number was called he reluctantly made his way to the podium. He stood there, eyes flickering between the two options before him. Choosing to stay would be the selfish choice, and there were so many here unlike him. Maybe he deserved a punishment similar to this, but there were many more with a will to live and people dependent on their survival. He had taken lives before, but never of anyone he would consider innocent or kind.

Never someone like the 333’s and the 299’s of the world who would help a stranger onto their feet after they’d fallen. Those people deserved the chance to live perhaps more than he did, and by choosing to stay he would be denying them that.

He closed his eyes, finally making his selection as he pressed the green button, allowing the numbers to turn slightly in the favor of forcing everyone to stay.

He mourned for the kind souls in this place, especially the only ally he had made in this place who was so adamant to leave. He, perhaps, regretted his decision once it was made hoping the votes would turn against him. But at the end of the day, he had to advocate for his own survival.

God, he was such a coward.

He took breath as he turned to join the crowd that had formed of those who had already voted, glassy eyes keeping straight ahead as he chose not to find a spot next to his now former ally. It was a shame. He did like her. She was nice.

But he had a feeling she wouldn’t be so fond of him anymore. He found a spot near the back of the crowd, he felt the eyes of those who preferred to stay burning into him. He’d be fine making it through, what might’ve been his last days, alone.

Maybe he’d even find a way to make it up to the strawberry blonde he’d grown a strange attachment to.

Most likely not, though.
-----
Luis enjoyed the show. Some of these people really had a lot to lose, yet still signed up to play the sketchy games. Most of them must have been kidding themselves, or maybe just too afraid to do what had to be done to form a better life. It didn’t matter so much to him how the vote panned out, he knew he’d survive either way...it’d just be harder without the money. He watched Benni as he casted his own vote, figuring the kid might opt against his own best interest. He was earnestly surprised to see the others cast the vote to stay. The ends of his lips curled into a bit of a smile, if the vote went their way maybe he could use the kid after all.

He watched as his new fire headed ally opted to stay as well, he knew the man wasn’t a coward and even went so far as to move through the crowd near him whenever he had finished casting his own vote. Luis had a feeling that tensions were going to be high after the vote if it went in his favor, and sticking close to more like minded individuals might be wise to get through the night. They had already gone high, but the staff members here were quick to intervene. Who knew how fast they’d react once the lights went out.

He furrowed his eyebrows a bit, perplexed at 89’s choice of conversational partner once he was close enough. How useful could that old bat be to them?

----

“You don’t know the slightest thing about me, so unless you got something useful to say I suggest you shut your mouth.” Brenda stated in response to the ‘soccer mom’ comment as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her arms did drop, pencil thin eyebrows raising at the sound of his offer. As much as she loathed the young man, he was right. He did have the advantage of her in terms of strength and if she wanted to make it out of here alive then an alliance would be helpful.

“I hate to say it but I think you’re right.” She admitted. “Fine. What’s the catch? You know, besides working with you.”

----

Brad didn’t hesitate when it was his time to be called up casting his vote in favor of leaving. But at this point, all it did was balance things out. There was only a couple of dozen people left, and at this point it was pretty clear the vote could go either way. Instead of letting himself contemplate his mortality or get fed up with the injustice that was taking place in the moment, he figured it’d be more beneficial to strategize. He moved in close to Kat standing next to her, his own bright eyes scanning the crowd for someone different once he was settled.

Sure, 89 was an asshole, but he obviously had some sort of idea of what he was doing. Heartless, but he seemed unafraid, focused, and willing to sabotage. Maybe he would make a beneficial ally after all. Even if not, there was strength in numbers. And once his eyes caught onto the other he found him talking to Karen from earlier.

What the hell? What was his game plan?

Brad looked over to Kat, although having a woman on his team might not be ideal in certain competitions he wasn’t just going to leave her behind.

“Hey, it’s beginning to dawn on me that leaving might not be a possibility…” He said gently. He didn’t want to upset her, but she had eyes and could clearly see what was going on. “We have to start thinking about how we are going to play this game if we get stuck here. I hate to say this but I think...having 89 on our side might be a good idea.”

-----

“Sato...are you seeing this?” Sophie murmured, brown eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. It was just before Isaac was about to be called, and the best his vote would do is even it out. There were only two other people beside him waiting to cast their vote. Her heart was racing in his chest, the anticipation mixed with panic almost too much to handle. She reached out to her ally to grasp his hand tightly, the touch didn’t make things any better but it at least grounded her enough to stay in the moment. She turned to him, eyes flickering to Anne to check in how she was doing. She had been so rattled by the first game, would she even survive another?

“What are we going to do?”

----

Isaac couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He was under the impression that the vote would be unanimous. Maybe always too eager to trust, this act of silent betrayal from a room full of strangers all but blind sighted him.

How was it this close?
He made his way up to the podium, hoping that numbers 3 and 1 were gracious enough to vote the same way he had and opt to leave. As his vote just evened out the numbers. He made his way back to his group.

3 voted to stay.

What would happen if there was a tie?

2 voted to stay.

Apparently, that question didn’t need to be answered because the vote came to a conclusion with two votes in favor of staying. His heart sank in his chest. Isaac could predict what happened afterwards before it even began.

People shouting, protesting the vote, yelling for a recount. People who had voted to leave retaliating against those who they recognized decided to stay, as if they were personally to blame for this.

It all felt like noise to him as he tried to grasp the situation.

This couldn’t be real. People weren’t this awful, were they?

A few gunshots brought him back to the present. A rather effective way of settling down the crowd, Isaac was finding.

 

[Lucyfer]

Gabriella, 333, did feel a certain betrayal when 109 voted as he did. ‘What’s out there for you?’ Obviously, something he didn’t want to return to empty-handed. Michael joined her, and the chaos began to unfold as it became obvious that the vote turned against them. They were condemned to stay here – and 109 was one of the reasons for that.

Amidst the arguments, Gabriella took a shuddering breath, deep, “We’re going to need allies.” She said, far enough from the din to at least be able to speak to Michael, 36.

“No.” He said flatly, knowing she was already considering giving 109 a chance. He hadn’t missed the way he had voted. He kept a mental tally of those who hadn’t voted for things, and noticed one group that was building of at least four of the, as well as another duo. The duo was hard to miss with the girl who had weird hair.

The other group seemed mostly minorities, which admittedly also made Michael reconsider; not because he thought less of them, because he thought the games might be rigged against them, somehow. Things were usually always rigged against them. Despite his life choices, he’d been able to hang on because he looked like a fucking angel.

White. Blonde. If he needed help from skinheads, he could get it easily.

Of course, it might also be rigged in minority favor as a ‘fuck you’. “There are some others.” Although, as he recognized that the group with the weird haired girl was apparently reconsidering things themselves, he decided to go against gut instinct.

Minorities it was. “If you want allies, there’s four over there who seem to be close.” He moved his head slightly, the pair disregarding the staff in their private strategizing. “I’m pretty sure they all voted to leave.”

“What if they consider six too many?”

“Only way to find out is to ask.”

Despite herself, Gabriella still took another glance out for 109 – but she had her arm caught and was being pulled along before she could voice the obvious consideration. Strength in numbers, and strength in the like-minded, apparently.

~***~

“I figured working with you was catch enough myself, honestly,” Ryan, 89, shrugged, “but really, it’s simple. Not all the games are going to be about one thing or another. Girls had their games, guys had theirs, and in either case, ruthlessness goes further than smarts or brains in some cases. We can count on some of these people to not have that kind of mindset.”

And Ryan thought she might be ruthless enough with how she voted, and how she’d begun this, digging into him immediately.

“If even just 10 people make it to the end, we all get well over a million. That’s enough for me to deal with you, and then never see you again for the rest of my life after this. Figured that’d be enough for you, too,” he cocked a grin, “And if not, there’s plenty of others out there I can approach, you know. Not sure how many options you got.”

An easy addition, “You know how popular the Karen stereotype is.” He assumed, anyways, before arguing broke out, the results finally in confirming what Ryan believed would happen – it was all over. They were all stuck here to play the game until the end.

People were shouting for a recount, and 365 went to bat against one of those who had voted in favor of staying, all kinds of obscenities spewing forth. For a few moments, the staff seemed content to let this continue, until eventually, the gunshots rang out.

The square mask seemed to sigh.

“The vote has been tallied. You are all witness to how each of you voted. You will all continue to play the games. There will be no recount.” The staff said, in no uncertain tones. “Continuing this further will imply you no longer want to play, and you will be exterminated.”

That settled people. Not happily, but it settled them.

“Dinner will be brought out shortly. There will be a new game tomorrow.”

And with that, the staff began to leave to bring in dinner for the living.

~***~

Katya swallowed as Brad stated the obvious. She didn’t offer an immediate answer, watching the numbers tick by until the answer was obvious. That was when she broke her gaze away to find 89 – the red-head. ‘He didn’t – you didn’t hear anything.’ It was easier to believe, as she saw him seemingly making peace with an earlier enemy.

Maybe he wasn’t that bad?

Gunshots put an end to the arguing. A dinner was promised. “I think…you have a point.” He had checked in on her after she got a bit sick, right? He had a terrible way of going about it, but that meant something, didn’t it?

And if she disagreed, she’d be left on her own, wouldn’t she?

Or it’d be just her and Brad, and even Katya wasn’t foolish enough to think two people could pull this off.

“I guess…I guess it’s not the worst option.” He was just abrasive. “At least he’s someone who wants to go on.” Perhaps that was a good thing, in this light, “Okay. Let’s do it.” Katya forced herself to move over to where 89 and the ‘Karen’ was.

They had stopped fighting earlier, and gotten along, too – so this could work out. An odd group of mismatches, but it could work! Though no longer so bubbly or cheery, she still lifted her hand in a hesitant wave to both of them as they got close enough.

Ryan smiled, lifted his hand, “Hey, feeling better, blue?” 124 wasn’t a good nickname, and her hair had blue in it. Good enough.

“Well. No. But I will. Um. We were thinking. Do you need more on your team?”

Ryan lifted his brows in mock-surprise, eyes darting from the girl, to the guy who had told him to fuck off, more or less, “Really? I thought you didn’t like me?” Not that it was getting in the way of any of his alliances so far.

~***~

Sato calmly gripped Sophie’s hand as he felt it slide into his. “Yeah. I see it,” he agreed somberly. Anne was also clearly seeing it, as caught as the rest of them in that anticipation after Isaac voted.

It did not go their way.

Sato let out a heavy breath before the arguing burst out. Sato raised his hand to call Isaac over to their group, for now they definitely had to stay together. “We’ll have to talk about what kid games could be coming up,” he said lowly, “and strategize as best as we can to get out of here.”

Anne, 88, glanced up, “There’s so many out there, how are we going to narrow it down?”

“We’re not,” Sato said, “but if there’s something anyone is unfamiliar with, we can at least begin the process of…of trying to teach each other. It’s something,” he added, though he didn’t know how effective it would be, in the end.

Gunshots.

The drama ahead was ending with a promise of food, “We’ll have some time to eat, rest up, and plan before tomorrow,” or so it seemed, at any rate. And, he noticed another group seeming to make a beeline towards them. Or, well, a man, and a woman who seemed to be reluctantly coming along – and once her steps came to match her companion’s, she was glaring at his back.

As expected, it was 36 who spoke, “Hey. Look, I noticed you all voted to leave – so did we. We wanted to join your group before things get bad.” That was a blunt way of saying it. “We understand if you think six is too many.”

Sato shook his head, not quite agreeing, but only to say, “I’m not sure we could determine what’s too many or too few just yet.” He recalled the girl had been one of those near the front earlier arguing to get out of here. They might be decent enough people, but he wasn’t sure how the others in the group felt about adding two more already.

“What do you mean by get bad? Things are already pretty shitty.” Anne noted.

“Our lives have a monetary value, a value that some people think we ought to pay out,” he glanced over his shoulder, “It’s only a matter of time before they decide it’s easier to do that outside of the games.”

“No!” Anne’s eyes widened, before she realized that was, in fact, perfectly rational. “They’ve been about equality this whole time, with this vote thing. And they’ve been stopping arguments.”

Michael shrugged, “Maybe.”

“Sabotage is a possibility,” Gabriella said, “If not murder, breaking bones or injuring other players…that’ll skew things, too.”

People on their own were at risk. Larger groups would have safety against that. Sato could see some logic in that…even though he hated it.

 

[JayMessi]

Benni stepped back as the fighting ensued, acting more of an observer than anything else; he was lucky no participant who wanted to leave had decided to single him out. But he figured his size might’ve been a factor in the matter. He wasn’t the strongest guy here for sure, but the muscle combined with his height definitely came to his adie in this matter. He didn’t flinch once the gunshots were fired. Although their lives were expendable, they weren’t invaluable. They seemed hesitant to actually kill any contestants and used the fire more in order to elicit compliance. It worked to calm the crowd, but as many of the others had already gathered he figured the peace wouldn’t last long.

Plus, the added threat of ‘extermination’ was certainly compelling.

He had witnessed alliances being made, people seeking numbers for protection. There was the danger of potential sabotage or revenge kills, especially when things weren’t being as monitored as they were now and everyone was left to their own devices.
He wasn’t too concerned about forming alliances or eating at the moment. The guilt still weighed heavy in his chest, amplified by the fact that the vote did come in his favor. He caught eyes with 333 momentarily, a glint of remorse in his eye over the friendship that he squandered, before he turned away and headed back towards his bed.

He just has to make it through the next five days.

If he even have to suffer through this that long

----

Brenda nodded slightly, she hadn’t considered that. A diverse group could mean that all the bases were covered, and she could use a bit of protection considering how angry all these people were. Those who wanted to leave were acting irrationally violent, and she did not want to become a victim of their hostility.

“Okay, fine. As long as you promise after this, we’ll never have to see each other again. ” She said with a slight nod and flashing him a bitt of a grin. She watched as a younger couple approached them. People were actually seeking out a partnership with this fool. She might not be the most popular here, but she didn’t mind. She wasn’t going to change her personality for a popularity contest.

She turned to the staff as they practically threatened them. She knew they had to calm down the crowd, but did they have to use terms like extermination? Jesus.

---

Brad was not happy that he’d have to deal with this asshole, but he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders and some muscle. He also seemed to be ready to do whatever it took to win, and since the stakes had now shifted, so was Brad.

“I don’t,” Brad offered honestly. “But to be honest, you must know by now you have the charisma of a soiled diaper. Either way, I think we can still help each other out. All of us. Splitting that much money doesn’t seem too bad, right? We can watch each other's backs.”

Luis, who had been nearby throughout the exchange crossed his arms. Now he was accepting two women into the team, one middle aged, it seemed as if the group was forming a physical disadvantage. Number 89 seemed oddly popular and it was likely they’ll get more requests for an alliance as the games went on. So Luis would take it upon himself to not permit anymore admission without some strings attached. He wasn’t too worried about the games, though, if the teams didn’t allow however many their group ended up being then they’d simply have to split it.

“If we are going to have two women on our team, we’ll need added muscle. To protect them.” He commented on the matter, eyes flickering between the two newcomers. “No offense to you ladies, of course. I’m sure having you on the team will come with it’s advantages.”

“I know 109 outside of here. I think he’d be a good addition. He’s strong, athletic, and loyal to a fault.” He explained, looking more towards 89 than the other two as if running the decision by him. “Issue is, he’s not a big fan of me. We got into a little of a fight. But if we could send someone not so intimidating…” He started, his eyes trailing towards 124. “Like you. Then we might get him on our side.”

Consider doing the kid a favor and he’d die alone. He hated to see the kid sulk like that, and besides the betrayal the two did have six years of history prior to this.

“You can’t just send her out to run your errands. We don’t know that guy. Or you.” Brad interjected.

“How about you let your woman speak for herself? I’m not trying to break you two up, he’s gay. You have nothing to worry about.”

“What? That doesn’t matter. We don’t know if he’s dangerous.” Brad explained.

“We have other people we can consider joining us, honestly the groups are getting a little crowded. What do you think?” He asked, his attention flickering to 124.

----

Sophie was already thinking about what Sato had suggested. Things were going to get unruly, and to be fair...their group wasn’t the strongest. She was more agile than strong herself, and she couldn’t really speak for the other’s levels of fitness. But in way of muscle, compared to some other groups she observed forming, they were rather petite.

Not that she would abandon the group in favor of a stronger team, but when a duo approached them with another man who at least had height for his advantage-she didn’t see a reason to turn them down.

“I’m okay with it.” She stated, maybe a little too abruptly.

She turned her attention to Anne. “None of us want to be here, but we have to be. We need to put survival at the forefront right now. We aren’t going to hurt anyone unless they try to hurt us first. We just gotta watch each other's backs…and be prepared for any possibility.”

Isaac sighed. Although not as shocked as Anne about the possibility, he didn’t like to think about it. He made his way over to the two strangers.

“Hey, I’m Isaac.” He said, offering out his hand for them to shake. He’d already accepted them into the group at that point. He held himself back from introducing the other members, because he didn’t want to reveal their identity if they wanted to be protective of it.

“I think we should get in line to get food. I...know no one’s hungry but things are crazy and we have to eat.” He stated. “We can eat together...and I don’t think the beds are assigned so we can bunk close to one another. If we really think people are going to be out here murdering, maybe we can take shifts when it comes to the whole sleeping thing?”

“I also think...it wouldn’t hurt getting to know each other a bit better. Obviously we all want everyone in this group to make it...but not to be a downer…” He took a breath. “Some of us might not. And it’d be good for us to know...like each other's stories. See if there’s anyone that the survivors can reach out to, family wise. For the ones who don’t.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Maybe it was too soon to talk about the possibility of death.

"Plus it could be nice. For trust. And team building."

Sophie stared at Isaac long and hard. She didn’t like to even consider the idea that not all of them were going to make it.

 

[Lucyfer]

Another man stepped in, 212, and seemed opposed to the idea of having a group of too many more women. Katya’s eyes narrowed. Protection. Would things really go so far as to need that? ‘You saw how many voted to stay….’ And there was evident unrest. There was strength in numbers. It wasn’t a bad idea, though Katya wished there was a woman there built like an amazon.

Then the men could shove it.

As it was, it seemed she was going to be the one recruiting. “Hey—” well, Katya didn’t really want to argue – she didn’t want to seem too intimidating, it was more the implications that followed. She wasn’t with Brad. Not that the idea was ridiculous, he was handsome, but she’d barely had time to consider such a thing with everything else going on.

Oh god, was that why he came up to her?

‘You are as naïve as ever.’

She had been accused several times of that.

89 interjected, “You two want on the team, and honestly, I’m still miffed at the way you treated me, hotshot. I was just trying to look out for your girl earlier,” he went along with it, “might as well do something to get into the group, right?”

“I’m not an extension of him!” Katya said, irritated.

“Well if you want in, and not him, that’s fine – but we still need 109 over here, or some other guy. Don’t really care who.”

“I want Brad in,” she murmured, sighed, “I’ll go talk to 109. It’s the least I can do,” and he should have safety of a group, too. No matter what beef he had with Luis, he shouldn’t be out there by his lonesome.

So, she trekked away from the group to where 109 was.

Leaving Ryan to comment, “So, she’s free then?” More of a tease, really, although he was here for 5 days, and anyone of them could be his last. He wondered how easy he might find some of the women if they wanted some safety in numbers, too. Or just some comfort before the end….

~***~

Katya went to the bed that 109 had claimed, as the scent of food began to permeate. It seemed they were going to be given a hot meal, though all Katya could smell was meat. ‘Please be something I can eat, please.’ Would she have to forgo her morals and eat meat? Would her stomach even tolerate it anymore?

Problems for later.

First problem: 109. “Hey, um. I’m Katya. I’m kind of acting as a messenger for 212, who said you two had some trouble. Given the circumstances…I think he’d like to…maybe not make amends, but stand on even ground?”

Katya didn’t know who was in the wrong.

Or why.

“We’d like you to join our group.” A smile flickered to her lips, and faltered. What was she really supposed to say? She didn’t know the issues with him and 212. “212 was the one to suggest, so I think he’s okay with you, now. Whatever happened before….”

~***~

Sato had been okay with it, and as Sophie spoke up, it seemed all but agreed upon. Anne hadn’t protested it, just been surprised to hear of more violence in the future. Isaac went one step further to introduce himself…and beyond that, to talk about the possibility of their dying, and the others picking up the pieces.

Michael nodded. “I’m Michael,” he took the hand, “This is my sister, Gabriella.” Gabriella also took the hand to shake. “I’m glad to hear someone speaking sense. It’s…unlikely all of us will make it, but there’s a lot we can do for each other if the worst comes to worst, if any of us win. Even if five of us perish….”

“Don’t say that,” Gabriella said, tearing her eyes away once more from 109 after he settled on a bed. Perhaps later she could approach him...this group didn't seem terrible, and she just had to convince Michael....

“Right. Still. I think that’s a good idea.”

Sato took a breath, “All right. We can…discuss a bit of that. I’m Sato,” he offered. He had plenty he'd like to protect. His son's future. His wife's...he was going to die, but he'd like them taken care of no matter what. He'd feel some relief to know, no matter what happened, some people would look after his interests.

“Anne,” no more ‘with an e’, in the moment. The levity was gone. “I’ll probably be hungry later, so…let’s at least get in line, and then find some place together to bunk up.” She said, and with an agreeable nod, Michael moved ahead as the food was being brought in, others still milling about or figuring things out.

He was right there before the food was uncovered.

It would be hot meals, it seemed.

Barbecued pork and chicken sandwiches. Fries. Good ol’ American fare. The stench of the sauce was enough to awaken plenty of appetites despite what happened. Perhaps that was the intent, as people began to line up quickly to be served.

Michael was able to get in and get out, and then went to find and reserve their beds.

 

[JayMessi]

Benni had caught 333’s glance once more before straying his attention once more. She either loathed him or longed to make amends, he couldn’t quite tell. Maybe he should apologize to her for the vote. She probably didn’t want to hear it, but it was the least he could do. He figured he’d have to wait to find a moment alone with her, without the protective blonde close by.

He was in the process of messing with the screw that reinforced the edge of the bed, in order to see if they could be taken out by hand. He didn’t want to chance going through the night empty handed. He was about to determine that his efforts were going to be to no avail when someone addressed him. A pink ombre headed woman. He had noticed her earlier hanging around a blonde man, but didn’t take much note of either of them.

129, Katya as she revealed.

Oh, Luis had sent her. Poor girl. This must be incredibly awkward for her, she must’ve only teamed up with him to ensure she would survive the night. This must be incredibly uncomfortable for her, Benni realized, but still he wasn’t making it much better for her; his eyes fixated on her a little too long without granting her a response.

“I’ll think about it.” He finally offered her something, but it wasn’t much in the way of an answer. His relationship with Luis had always been a complicated one simply for the fact that until the other came up to him spitting insults at him earlier that day, he’d never despised the other. When things had been good, he might’ve even considered Luis as an older brother or mentor. But he still recognized the man for what he was; selfish, manipulative, and cruel. He wouldn’t want Benni to join them unless he had something to gain, and somewhere inside him he still was hoping to be there for 333. Forming an alliance with Luis would make her an enemy.

He hesitated a moment before speaking again. What Katya did and who she decided to form a bond with throughout this game was her own business, but she might not be away from what she was getting into. Part of Benni knew he should let it slide. Not say anything on the matter at all, again it wasn’t his business. But he couldn’t help himself.

“Be careful with him.” He warned. “He’s not a good person.”

----

“You’re such a prick, man.” He stated, eyes narrowing to meet 89’s. “I don’t see a line of people waiting to join you? I call bull.”

Brad was a little late to catch on with exactly what was happening. By the time he realized what everyone was implying, and that Kat took offense to it he looked back towards her in order to clarify.

“Kat, wait, I--” He started, but she had already walked off to recruit 109. He let out a slight sigh, turning his attention on the red head who must’ve really been hungry for a knuckle sandwich.

“You really are a shit starter, aren’t ya, red?” Luis chuckled, shaking his head at the other’s statements. Something seemed to catch his attention momentarily, before he turned back to face the group. “I’m hungry. I’m gonna get some food before it runs out. Don’t run that mouth of yours so much that someone ends up mistaking to make that pretty mug of yours as a punching bag out of your face. Okay patrón?”

“Like she’d ever stoop that low.” He said. “She’s just doing her best to survive this crazy shit. We all are. Not all of us are total sociopaths like you. Can you lay off her?”

Brad sighed, eyes following Luis as he walked away.

“Look. I saw what you did to that guy during Simon Says. It was brutal, but it’s clear you’d do whatever it takes to win.” He explained. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get there with you. I...can...even come up with a few ideas of my own.”

Brad wanted to survive this. He needed to. He wasn’t ready to die and just like 89 he’d do whatever it takes to make it to the end.

----

Instead of going in the now-extending line to go get the food, like Luis had said he was going to, he instead made his way past the line in order to find 62. He had noticed that the man had separated from his group, and Luis had been keeping an eye on him since he had first noticed him. The man was tall, broad, and hardly wavered when the shots fired during the first game which Luis respected. Sure, he might’ve voted against staying but he was here now and seemed to have enough reason to live considering he had stayed so close to a strawberry blonde woman throughout this. Even protecting her from the grizzly sight of the bodies after the first game.

Luis had also noticed that he looked back up at the money before making his decision to leave.

“Hey, sixty-two.” He said, approaching the other. “Anyone ever told you, you kind of look like an off-brand version of the white man’s Jesus?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I’m going to cut to the chase because I don’t want to waste your time. The crew you’re running with right now?” Luis clicked his tongue while shaking his head. “They’re gonna get you killed. Don’t get me wrong, they seem nice. But at the end of the day nice is not going to ensure you and your lady friend’s survival. You’re practically the only muscle on that team.”

“How about you consider running with us? We’ll take care of both you and your friend, keep her from harm's way. I promise if you do you and your friend will be leaving in one piece with your fair share of the money.”

---

“I’m Sophie.” Sophie finally chimed, figuring if these people were those who she was going to spend her last days with they might as well be on a first name basis. She let out a breath. They should make arrangements. But she didn’t have any kids or much in the way of family, no one to mourn her if she didn’t make it out of here alive. She didn’t want them to know that. She didn’t want them to think that because of it, she deserved to live any less...especially if one of these games pitted them against each other.

She noticed the tears forming in Gabriella’s eyes once her brother mentioned the possibility that most of them might not make it. She couldn’t blame her, but had to try to keep herself from tearing up as well.

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” That was a stupid thing to say. But still she clasped her new allies shoulders and gave her an ingenuine reassuring smile. It might’ve not been that comforting. “Look, I’m going to see if there’s a bathroom in this place while people are too distracted by the food to think of shanking us in it.”

She regretted the joke as soon as she said it. She took a breath. “Anne. Gabriella. You are welcome to join me if you want.” She stated giving them a quick glance before finding one of those circle masked guys to ask. They wouldn’t shoot her for asking a simple question. Right?

---

Isaac stuck by Sato figuring they’d figure out their own bathroom situation either. The line for food was getting a bit long at this point, and it’d be best to secure a couple of plates while they could. Something about having bbq after what they’ve just been through. Still, his body betrayed him by allowing his stomach to growl once the scent of the food hit him. So he made his way in line, crossing his arms over his chest.

He only allowed the man a moment of silence before he started talking again. He didn’t know what was more uncomfortable, the silence between the two practical strangers or his attempt to fill the air.

“Hey, I have something to ask you. If it’s...alright with you.” He said, bright eyes meeting the others' darker hues. “Why did you end up coming here? I mean I know it might be a little personal, but you look like you have your shit together...I mean, I don’t know I just get that impression off of you. I mean, the other people in this group look that way too. I’m just curious. I mean...none of us could’ve expected this but you must’ve known it was a bit sketchy, right?”

 

[Lucyfer]

109 was quiet for a while, and Katya tried not to shift anxiously. She waited until he responded at last, with a consideration. She felt a bit deflated at that. Would they still let her and Brad in, or would they be tossed aside? Would it be pending the response? Should she try to find someone else?

She wrung the bottom of her shirt in her hands, a bit unaware of the nervous habit.

Usually, she’d have a necklace to fiddle with.

What 109 had to offer somehow didn’t surprise Katya. She had that sense from 89, and seeing he was with 212, it was obvious that some birds of a feather were flocking together. That didn’t make 62 bad, did it? Or her?

“It might be better to be with bad people in this game,” she murmured, more to convince herself than 109. “But thanks. I’ll try. You…do what you need to do, too. But this offer is open. I’m sure it’ll stay open.” And when it was all over, would survival and the money be enough to wash off what happened?

A hot shower might be.

“If—if you don’t mind me asking—since we’re all here trying to survive…what…what do you know? What makes you hesitate to join us?”

~***~

Red just smiled and shrugged his shoulders at Luis’s comment. Yeah, he was a shit-starter. He did a better job on the internet as a troll, of course. Real life always had that risk of getting punched. The scenario here, it somehow seemed less likely he would, at least immediately. Not while people were bowing and scraping to get onto teams.

Luis left, though, and Brad stepped up to talk to him about the situation in Simon Says. “Yeah? What ideas do you have in mind?”

Now Ryan was interested in him.

Sure, more muscle was good.

Ideas were better, in his book. They didn’t know what the next game was, so Ryan wasn’t sure how good these ideas could be…then again, they might not involve the next games at all. There was plenty of downtime, after all.

He glanced to the food. “Walk and talk,” he suggested, taking a languid pace towards the end of the line. This way they weren’t too suspicious, and would still eat. It’d be the luck of those behind not to have enough. Then again, they may have prepared enough for all the original 432.

~***~

Michael had secured the area for his new group, while some went to get food, and others seemed to go to harass the staff more. He wouldn’t intervene in either, he just took a seat on one of the beds, and was about to dig in when someone approached.

The one he’d seen who had beef with 109.

“Several times throughout the entirety of my life,” Michael answered flatly with that introduction, and waited for the pitch that was to come.

He arched a brow at the offer, “I don’t recall Simon Says needing any muscle,” that might change with future games, but Michael wondered how prevalent those would be, and if strategy couldn’t come into play.

The offer was there, though.

This group he was with now, was willing to take care of things if either of them died. That was likely more than he’d get from this stranger. “How about this, until we see how things unfold, we keep a truce. No sabotage, no foul play, and we protect each other outside of the games.” Inside the games, he knew, would be another story.

“I’m sure you have no reason to be concerned with one person like myself or consider my offer seriously, but you can see you have no reason to be worried about the other members of my team, so you have no reason to pick on us when there are others out there who look more than willing to do dirty shit to get through this. We won’t interfere with that, either.”

It would hurt. God would it hurt.

But they couldn’t go about fighting every battle, or protect everyone.

“Because if you choose to do anything to us outside of the game, you’ll be my only target.” Michael wasn’t in the market to make enemies – but 212 needed to know why he ought to consider the truce. He shouldn’t be in the business of making enemies, either. Even if it was just one person. One person that he wanted to poach for his own team. One person he thought could make a difference.

And 212 was likely the only person 212 really cared about. He might reconsider any threats to the harmless team who just wanted to go home and not interfere, at least for a bit.

~***~

Gabriella did appreciate the warmth here. The sincerity. The care. It made her feel okay about the decision to join with this group, and she tried to smile, to nod along with the hopeful tones. “I’m going to make sure I grab some food first,” tempting as a restroom was, Gabriella didn’t want to end up without any food.

Food was strength.

Anne nodded, “I’ll come with you now, I think I could use it.” A moment away from everyone else, and to splash some cold water on her face would be ideal. So, she would go along with Sophie to one of the masked people by the doors. Circle.

They just stared at them through the mask without saying a single thing. Waiting. “We were wondering – is there a restroom here we can use?”

Silently, Circle nodded, and gestured for them to follow, taking them to the door they had been standing near and opening it. There was another with a circle mask on, standing on the other side. They switched sides, as their Circle pointed down the hall the door.

~***~

Sato wasn’t surprised by Isaac’s topic. His considerations of death suggested he was starting to focus on his reason for being there…and the reasons he wanted to leave, too. Sato stared ahead, “I look like I have it together, don’t I?” He always gave that impression. He worked well under pressure.

“I’m dying.”

Wasn’t everyone?

“Terminal pancreatic cancer. It shouldn’t…it shouldn’t interfere much,” though he had pains that were severe, he got nauseous, and with it spreading, he knew new symptoms could show up at any time. “My student debt is ridiculous, and I’m still trying to build a business. But…I just had a kid,” he swallowed, “I don’t want Souta to struggle like I did. To worry about expenses. And I don’t want Lilly to suffer under the debts I’ve left. I know the only thing I have to live for is to make their lives easier before I…die. They don't even know.”

He felt like the most selfish in there.

He was already doomed to die. His life shouldn’t take priority over the others, but his son’s life did take priority. “I suppose that’s a bit heavy, but…I imagine everyone’s story here is that,” he cast his dark eyes around as they moved with the line, “like yours.”

It was an invitation to speak his peace.

 

[JayMessi]

Benni’s eyes flickered to her hands, noting her restlessness which was most likely a physical manifestation of her anxiousness in the moment. It only made him sympathize for her more, but he couldn’t blame her for her reaction. He was nervous too.

He shifted his position, meeting her eyes once more as she let him know the offer would still stand despite his nonresponse. “Thank you.” He nodded in acknowledgement, figuring that would be the extent of their interaction. He was honest about considering the offer, although he’d prefer not to resort to it. As long as he could hold his own outside of the games he’ll be fine. If one of the games required teams, then he’d have to be placed in some group. Although it was risky going through this alone, and his lack of a clear strategy made it riskier.

The follow up question caught him off guard, and he had to consider if he even wanted to answer it or how much he’d want to disclose to her. But he figured she deserved an answer, especially seeing as Luis must’ve been something over her head for her to agree to come over here in the first place.

“I’m not a good person either.” He answered earnestly. “But I want to be better. I won’t be able to do that with him.”

He figured if he formed an alliance with Luis and his group they would coax him into committing some sort of sabotage on opposing teams. It was to be expected. There was a lot on the line here, a lot of money, human lives, but those seemed to always be the stakes at hand. If he was going to make it to the final round, he wanted to do so fairly by his own merit. Although, it did seem a little late for redemption. Anyday he could be dead now, and despite the religious scripture he had embedded into his arms with ink, any good deeds done, or promises of confessions and penance he might find time to make during the time he had left he was fairly certain he wouldn’t get admittance into Heaven upon his death.

-----

Brad followed Ryan into the line. It might’ve been ridiculous, but he was fairly sure it would be fairly effective if handled correctly.

“You and I both know you aren’t above sabotage. And although the other guy you have with you might be more willing to...bust some kneecaps in order to get ahead, I’m thinking of a more subtle approach.” He kept his voice low as he spoke, hoping no one will over hear them. There was no way Brad could anticipate what games would be played, but there’d be plenty of downtime in between the games if only one game were to take place a day. “Everyone is pretty much forming groups and connections, right? In order to survive. But any bond formed during this is going to be superficial at best. I wonder how fast the groups will turn on each other if some rumors enter the mix. I imagine just overhearing someone knowing something the others don’t will be enough to tear apart alliances.” It was rather a juvenile approach, and not guaranteed to work, but from what Brad experienced gossip could be an unexpectedly powerful force. But if they could get into their competitors minds it might affect their gameplay. Especially after the next game when the body count rose and people grew more anxious.

“Look, I think that me and Kat could pull something like that off. At least put a couple of groups off their balance. Obviously you can try to, but again you’re not the most charismatic and have been pretty outspoken. People already know you’re kind of an asshole. No offense. And do you think anyone is going to want to listen to the Karen? And your other friend is...kind of intimidating. Me and Kat haven’t left much of an impression yet. And Kat is sweet. People will more likely take her word for it.” It went without mentioning that Kat might not be okay with the plan. But she didn’t have to know about it. She seemed pretty gullible and as long as Brad could find reason to put her in the right direction he could probably fool her into participating.

------


Luis crossed his arms, hanging back as the other offered a work around. He had a point about the games, who knows what kind of skill they would require. The games were wild cards, factors he couldn’t control and whatever happened during them happened. He figured the formation of the groups would be more beneficial for down time. Rather than the one he wanted joining the group, the two groups would form a truce. What exactly would Luis get out of that arrangement? He wasn’t keen on the idea of looking after half a dozen people without anything in return. But it couldn’t hurt not to mess with them for now, as they really didn’t pose a threat and he wasn’t one to really sabotage just for the sake of sabotaging.

His demeanor seemed to shift in response to the not-so-outright threat the other offered him, causing him to lean in closer to the other crouching down to meet the other eye level while the other was seated.

“You seriously think I’m worried about having a target on my back from the likes of you?” He asked, offering him a grin that bared his teeth, the smile only to be contradicted by a trace amount of mania behind his eyes.. “You got me all wrong. I’m not scared of you. Far from it. I was just trying to offer you a bit of generosity. But maybe next time I shouldn’t offer you such kindness. I wasn’t even thinking about messing with that rag tag group of yours, but now maybe I should.”
After he said his peace he straightened himself out once more, offering the man a bit of distance.

“Fine, you can have your truce. For now. We won’t mess with you or your friends. Ya know, outside of the games.” He stated, turning away from the other in order to walk away.
---

Sophie followed the masked man to the door and moved where she was directed to the next, peering down the hallway in order to attempt to catch a glimpse of something that might be informative or useful, but to no avail. She made her way into the bathroom, her eyes traveling around the room. It was the standard public restroom with tile flooring, several stalls, sinks, but no mirrors. For obvious reasons, as they probably didn’t want the players to shatter the reflective glass for a chance to have a weapon just as Sophie was planning to. Still, she took the opportunity to look through the stalls for something that could be helpful. She considered that aside from Michael, the group didn’t have the physical strength of some others. If things did get heated she wanted to make sure she could do her part to protect the group. She especially wanted to protect Anne and Isaac who seemed a bit more frazzled than the rest of the group about the whole situation.

“How are you holding up?” She halted her search momentarily, turning her head to glance towards Anne. Even if she wouldn’t be able to find anything of use, it was nice to have a sobering moment alone with her ally, as for the moment the restrooms were empty. Anne might even have a chance to wash some of the blood off of her shoes. Sophie took a moment to observe herself, wondering if any blood had splattered onto her without her knowledge.

How she wished for a moment where she could forget about their dire situation. About the carnage they witnessed, about the lives lost today, and the complete loss of her fleeting faith in humanity. Waiting for the next game was the worst part. Not knowing what these monsters would shove at them, or how it’ll all turn out in the end. Sophie figured she could handle any outcome, even one that might end up in her own demise. If only she could know beforehand, have the opportunity to plan.

But honestly, all she wanted right now was something to break the tension.


---

Isaac stalled momentarily when the other revealed he was terminally ill. Sure, most of them would be dead in a the matter of days and the pancreatic cancer would probably kill the man slower than the games actually would. But it didn’t mean Isaac didn’t feel bad for him. He should’ve been spending his final days with his wife, rather than worrying about finances for their future or playing these death games. Of course, that went without being said and the man was just trying to make sure his family was taken care of after his death. He hadn’t known the stakes of these games once he entered.

Isaac strayed his gaze towards the ground momentarily to process the information. He then looked back towards the other. “You’re a good person...doing all this for your family. I’m sorry about…” The words caught in his throat. If he lingered too much on it he might end up crying again. “I’m sorry you got such a bad hand.”

It took him a moment to muster up a response for Sato. He certainly wanted to say his peace, although he felt his reason for being here wasn’t as valid as the other’s.

“Uh, I just got out of prison...and I, uh…” He let out a breath. “I’ve had trouble with addiction in the past. I’m sober now, but, uh, prison...was the only thing keeping me sober, I think. I have a son...I haven’t really gotten to meet him outside of prison. But he was able to meet him. He has his mom’s eyes, and like the most amazing smile-always smells like cucumbers for some reason. And you can tell he’s just going to be, like, the coolest kid.” He said, reaching into his pants pocket as if to grab for something only to pull out lint. “Oh, yeah, I was going to show you a picture...but I don’t have my wallet.”

“Anyway, I love the kid. He’s great but the thing is his mom, she doesn’t really want me seeing him anymore now that I’m out. She’s afraid I’m going to relapse...and I’m afraid she might be right, because aside for my boy...it’s almost all I think about. But I want to be sober and in his life. That’s all I want to do, really, is be his Dad. So, I signed up for this. Because I figured...hey at least it’d keep me sober for six more days, right? And then after that maybe I could do it on my own. I also love playing games and it seemed fun. I never even really thought about the money. Not that I really have any myself, but I’d be fine without it. I’d figure it out. And Isiah’s step dad makes good money so he’ll be fine without it.”

He took another breath moving forward as the line did. Maybe he shared a little too much. “Hey, Sato. Do me a favor and don’t tell the others about me...drug problem. I saw the way they looked at me when I told them I’d gone to prison, and I don’t want them to get that impression of me.”

 

[Lucyfer]

Katya may have felt some need to protest that 109 wanting to be better was enough – but she didn’t. He hadn’t really answered her question, and he seemed full of quite a bit of doubt. Besides that, she saw some movement near one of the doors and saw two women go through the door. ‘Restroom?’ Her hope sung, and made her distraction completely.

“All right,” was all she could offer 109, glancing back at him briefly. “I hope…you can figure things out.” Would time with 212 in the games really be enough to corrupt him? She didn’t know, but she knew this was a dead end for now, “Good luck.”

With everything.

A bit awkwardly, she moved towards that door, and the staff now waiting. “Um, is this to a restroom? I could really use one….”

The staff seemed to sigh, but opened the door, and let her step through. The other one on the opposite side glanced at her, then pointed down the hall silently. She gave a quick, “Thank you!” and rushed on to the door.

~***~

Subtle was good, subtle was very good, and Ryan listened with interest to Brad’s plans of spreading lies to disrupt group unity. That could be quite useful, and it would redirect hatred from their own group. He nodded along, too familiar with this kind of tactic from too much time as a troll online. “Yeah, yeah, I can see how that would work.” Would Kat go along with it?

Something told Ryan she wouldn’t know.

And she’d only find out if he wanted to fuck with her and Brad’s synergy.

Ryan kept his voice low, too. “All right, let me offer you some ideas. For anyone getting’ an advantage, look to those who might hang around staff a lil’ too much. Even just up front here with the food,” he tilted his chin forward. Most were just getting their food and going.

But there would be a couple other jokesters.

“And then see how well they do in the next game.” It couldn’t start well just yet…but it could be a good tactic.

~***~

Michael stayed seated. He met 212’s eyes as he crouched down, and didn’t flinch under his indication that the threat meant little – perhaps had the opposite effect. It didn’t – or so Luis claimed, of course. He seemed willing enough to leave Michael’s group alone for now, which was all Michael wanted.

So, he nodded at the end, when 212 got to that point and turned away. He kept his lips shut tight against further comment, especially as Gabriella came back, tossing a glance at 212 as he left, before sitting down besides Michael.

“What’s up?”

“Poacher,” Michael said with a shrug, “Also has some beef with 109.”

Gabriella just looked confused at that, before, “Why won’t you let 109 in with us?”

“He voted to stay.” Simple, apparently. “We can’t trust anyone who’s going to risk the lives of hundreds of people for even a billion dollars.”

Gabriella scowled at that. Apparently, Michael was going to be difficult to budge.

~***~

The restroom was fairly normal…minus the utter lack of mirrors. Then again, Anne probably didn’t really want to see herself. She still started to run the water in one of the sinks, and splashed it on her face, before she took off her shoes, thinking of cleaning them even before Sophie spoke.

Then Sophie did speak, just as she bent down.

She glanced back up, “I’m here,” that seemed to sum it up, really, before she laughed, not a pleasant laugh, but something to release the terrible energy within, “You know, if I had known this was going to happen, I would have at least gotten my kids those Nintendo Switches. Or whatever,” now she fucked that up.

Not that she had the money for that, but…well, she could have found it.

“They’re never going to know what happened to me.” She swallowed it down, rose, “Sorry, I know—I know we’re trying not to be downers.” She plunged her shoes under the sink, but of course, water wasn’t going to be enough to wash off blood that had already sunk into the fabric. Soap would help some, and she squirted plenty onto it.

“How are you….” She broke off as someone else entered, glancing to the stranger with the colorful hair, 124 on her shirt. She seemed caught like a deer in headlights. “We’re not going to bite.” Anne said, before she could consider running.

She almost looked like she would.

Instead, she relaxed and came forward to one of the further sinks, turned it on, and cupped her hands under it to get a hearty drink of water, before splashing it across her face.

~***~

‘Yeah. So am I.’

Sato couldn’t change it. The fact he was going to die, did give him a certain inferiority complex to being here. He was going to die. What reason did he have to outlive someone like Isaac, who didn’t have a chance at life? Who had a son he didn’t get to know outside of jail? Who deserved to get clean?

Jealousy was there. Sato wouldn’t deny that, but a deeper sorrow was present.

“I’m sure he’s amazing,” Sato said as no picture could be shown. Cucumbers was an odd scent, but it wasn’t a bad scent. Mild. Refreshing. “I won’t say a thing. But make a promise to me. You’re not going to go back to that. No matter what happens here, no matter what you see. Go get addicted to, I don’t know…binge watching TV shows or something.”

A poor suggestion, but he thought it might be just light enough, while still being serious about the need for a promise. Perhaps he couldn’t take the word of a former junkie…but then again, he was aware of how some people took promises. Especially to someone dying. “And make sure you tell them about your kid. They should know, so that if the worst happens….”

If the worst happened, they were looking out for each other.

His kid.

And, Sato hoped, his own family.