User blog:LightStone123/The Black Games

Hello everyone and welcome to another Games created by me. These Games will not be apart of my main series and will take place in an entirely different universe then them. These will, however, take place in the same universe as The White Games, which you can read more about at the following link: http://thehungergames.wikia.com/wiki/User_blog:LightStone123/The_White_Games.

Now, with that out of the way, I shall explain these Games more thoroughly.

Introduction
The Black Games will be taking place in the modern-day world. The tributes competing will be 30 ordinary people from the regular world between the ages of 12-22. These young people have been kidnapped by unknown forces and deposited into an arena located in a mysterious and unknown location. Once there, they will be informed by a strange individual known only as "Dr. Black" that they are now competing in his "games" (more on that below).

The Black Games
The rules for the Black Games are relatively simple.

-There are 30 tributes, or as Dr. Black calls them, Challengers. There will be fifteen females and fifteen males.

-Each of the Challengers will be randomly sorted into a team of three. There will be a total of ten teams.

-The Challengers will be forced to play Dr. Black's bizarre and increasingly complicated games until only one team remains.

-To make certain that the Challengers follow the rules and play the Games, each Challenger has been outfitted with an attached bracelet, called a datapad. This bracelet is capable of injecting the Challengers with a deadly poison and, if a Challenger attempts to remove it or otherwise break the rules, will administer said poison to the offending Challenger.

-The datapad also serves two other functions: The first is that this device has a built-in touchscreen that allows Dr. Black to communicate with the Challengers. It also shows a list of the other Challengers and Teams, yet only if they have already been personally encountered. When a Challenger dies, his or her name will be blacked out and each datapad will give off a loud ringing noise to signify a death has occurred.

-The second function of the datapad is that it will also show a map of the Playing Field, but majority of this is covered in the fog of war until a Challenger has explored the area themselves.

-There is no cornucopia. Supplies and weapons will be hidden around the island in various places. Also, at random times air drops containing precious items will take place.

-Outside of the normal Playing Field, where Challengers will spend majority of their time, there are also Event Hubs. Event Hubs are dotted across the Playing Field and are normally locked. Periodically one will open up and Dr. Black will instruct all teams to converge on the Hub. Only a limited amount of Teams are permitted inside. Once a sufficient amount of Teams have arrived, the Hub will close and the lucky team or teams will be required to play one of Dr. Black "games".

Rules
1) There will be thirty Challengers (tributes).

2) Instead of reapings, the Challengers have been kidnapped. Therefore, there is no volunteering. There won't be any reapings, training scores, interviews, etc. for this same reason.

3) As these Games take place in the modern world with no Hunger Games, there are no Careers. You can still submit Career-like tributes, just don’t designate them as such.

4) Each user can submit up to two Challengers (number subject to change)

5) I will not accept any Tributes that have been in my previous Games.

6) The Challengers may be from any country or region of the world.

7) Advice will be included in these Games, though there will also be user interaction that is sufficiently different from past Games of mine. During Dr. Black's Games, the Challengers will be presented with decisions. It will be up to the creator's of the Challengers to help them make said decisions.

8) Tribute Form:

Name:

Gender:

Age:

Home City & Country:

Personality:

Backstory: (Remember that these Games take place in modern times. There is no Panem, no Districts. Instead it's the current-day world. Make sure your backstory fits in with this theme.)

Height:

Appearance:

Weapon(s):

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Fear(s):

The Teams
Alpha Team: Jackson, Boone, & Ophyra

Beta Team: Hayle, Vika, and Arlyssa

Gamma Team: Timothy, Mike, and Nathaniel

Delta Team: Ryder, Shinji, and Vjena

Epsilon Team: Hayden, Junie, and Milan

Zeta Team: Hannah, Sofia, and Francesca

Kappa Team: Satoshi, Zantae, and Nailah

Lambda Team: Shintaro, Fernanda, and Harry

Sigma Team: ???, ???, and ???

Omega Team: Karne, Evie, and Nari

Arena
The Playing Field can be divided into four separate quadrants; north, west, south, and east. The northernmost border of the Playing Field is a range of mountains, which offers many hilltracks and pathes for the Challengers to explore. The mountains lead down to a evergreen forest, thick with pines, firs, spruces, and many other species of coniferous trees. This place is good for those looking for a place to remain hidden; the thick needles of these trees provide excellent means of concealment. Several smaller shacks and houses can also be found here, amongst which supplies may be scavenged. The northern quadrant also contains several large buildings, including a shooting range, abandoned supermarket, and a cemetery.

The easternmost border of the Playing Field is a coastline that stretches down to the south. Notable landmarks here include a small town situated on the coast, complete with docks and warehouses. This quadrant is also host to an abandoned vineyard, multitude of farmland, and, hidden in the fields, a cavern. Dark, dank, and dreary, unless they have proper light, Challengers won’t even be able to see their hand in front of their face, let alone what surrounds them.

The westernmost border of the Playing Field is a large concrete wall. Massively tall and almost impossible to climb, its construction is a mystery. Most of this quadrant consists of moorland, which offers very little in the way of shelter or camouflage, leaving the Challengers vulnerable to vigilant eyes. There is also a dead forest in the southern part of the quadrant. The entire area reeks of decay and anything that may once have been edible has long since disintegrated beyond safety. Detritus floats in the streams, tainting the water.

The southernmost border of the Playing Field is also coastline, yet not as big or with as many beaches. There is a small island just offshore, connected to the mainland only by a large suspension bridge. An abandoned carnival takes up most of this small island, with many different attractions and rides. Back on the mainland, the quadrant is host to an apartment complex, abandoned prison, and a swamp. Much of the water in this area is about knee-height, the bottom coated with a thick mud that could very easily swallow a Challenger.

Prologue
I wake up in a cold sweat. Fear spiking my heart as the dark memories of my dream swirl in my mind. I was in that forest again. I was being chased by that giant, metallic creature, as usual, through the same pale, lifeless forest. I have never been in a forest in real life. Never even seen a tree without any leaves. But it always shows up in my dreams. I do not understand.

I never do.

Despite my best efforts, the images of my dream soon begin to fade away. I try to grasp them, hold on to them, but it is like trying to catch mist with just your bare hand. It always manages to slip through the cracks of your fingers and disappear.

Then it is gone forever.

I lay my head back on the pillow, feeling the cold sweat of my shirt against my back. I've been having these dreams for almost a year now, but recently they have picked up in intensity, have become more vivid and detailed. Why? A logical reason would be because of the stress I'm under, trying to apply for a good college. But there must be more to it then that. There must.

Suddenly I sit up, no longer wishing to just lie here and think about it. I peel the sweat-stained shirt from my back and toss it off my bed. Today is a Saturday, so I don't have to go to school. I wanted to use that to catch up on my sleep, but the nightmare ruined that. And I'm not willing to try to sleep now. I have no desire to return to that hellish nightmare.

I run a hand through my unruly, dark brown hair as I rise from my bed, bare feet touching the old, wooden floor. My hair never seems to get in order, no matter how hard I try. And I've long since given up on trying.

I drop down and begin doing push-ups to drive the fog of sleep away from my mind. I do ten and then sigh loudly when I finish. I can do much better than that. Still, it worked. I don't feel very tired anymore. I stand up, ready to head downstairs to see if Mom has started on breakfast yet when I notice something that sends a chill down my spine.

I'm not in my room.

It's a surprisingly large room with irregular angles, pale blue walls, and hardwood floor. That itself isn't unusual, but the fact remained that this is not my bedroom. My room doesn't have blue walls; they're white. And I have carpet, not wood flooring. This is wrong. All wrong.

Heartbeat increasing rapidly, I spin around and take in the furnishings. There's a single bed, nightstand, and a sturdy desk with a futuristic mesh-work chair. There's a simple black phone on the desk. The old-timey type with a cord and everything. That alone confirms it. My family hasn't had a phone like that ever. The only time I've even seen one before was at my Grandma's house.

What the hell is going on?

There's a door, positioned between the desk and bed. I rush towards it, eager to escape this place and find my parents so that I can get some answers. But the door is locked. I try everything I can think of. I shake the knob, slam my shoulder against it, even look for the keyhole to see if I can pick the lock. Nothing works. There's not even a keyhole. It's just a plain, metallic knob attached to a metal slate.

I back away from the door until I hit the far wall, where I slump to my knees.

What is happening? How did this happen? My chest feels like it is in a vise. Panic is constricting my airways, so I take a deep breath and try to calm down, lest I start hyperventilating. Think logically! There has to be a reason for this! People don't just magically appear in strange rooms!

I try to summon all the facts I know. I was in my room last night, playing video games and eating snacks. Nothing was out of the ordinary then. I've done the same thing every Friday night for as long as I can remember. So that's not the cause. But what happened after?

I rack my brain, but can only come up with simple things. I brushed my teeth. Checked my phone. Dad had just gotten back from a business trip, so he was home. But I can't see how that matters. How any of this matters. The fact is that I went to sleep in my own room and woke up in this new, frightening locked room.

How could that happen? Things like this don't happen in real life. They only happen in movies and video games, books and...

...and dreams.

Of course. I am dreaming! That explains everything! After all, I do remember having that terrifying dream about the metal creature. And whose to say that dream ever ended? I may still be in it. Lucid dreaming is a thing, after all. Of course, I've never had a lucid dream myself, but there's a first time for everything.

Suddenly feeling much better, I raise a hand to wipe my sweat away. And pause as I see something strange. It's metallic, silver and clamped firmly on my wrist. It's some kind of bracelet-like thing that seems to hold an opaque empty screen in the center of it. What the hell is it?

"My imagination is a strange place," I mutter, reaching out and tapping the screen with my fingers. Nothing happens. I try touching every part of the strange device but no matter what I do it does not react. Finally I just try ripping the thing off my wrist but I find that it's impossible. For some inexplicable reason it refuses to get off my arm.

Eventually I'm forced to give up. It's not like it matters anyway. Everything will be back to normal when I wake up. A lot less panicked now that I understand what is happening, I wander around the room, wondering what exactly is its purpose. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't just dream up a useless room. Probably.

A phone rings.

I freeze in place, then slowly crane my neck around to look at the black phone. It continues to ring, vibrating atop the table. Curious, I cross the room and pick it up. "Hello?" I ask, placing the receiver against my ear. "Who is this?"

"You're not dreaming, Hayle."

My breath catches in my throat. "Wh-who is this? How do you know my name?"

"Don't let yourself be deceived. Everything that is happening to you is real. Very real." It's a feminine voice speaking. Not one I've ever heard before. "You have to escape. But it won't be easy."

"What are you—"

"Listen closely," The voice rolls on, not letting me get more than a few words in. "Do what they say for now. Go along with the game. But don't tell anyone you've spoken with me. That last part is crucial. Do not tell anyone. Do you understand?"

"Listen, I don't know what—"

"Do you understand?"

I'm shaken now. Any peace that I gained by deluding myself into thinking this was a dream has long evaporated. I have no idea what the hell is happening, but it's frightening me beyond belief. "S-sure. Yeah, whatever."

"Good. Remember that. I'll keep in touch."

The phone clicks off.

With trembling hands, I set it back down. Deep breaths. I need to take deep breaths. This is real. That much is clear. I'm not dreaming, nor am I imagining this. That means...what does that mean? The only logical explanation would be that I was kidnapped, but that itself isn't even logical! Why would anyone kidnap me and stick me in a room? What could possibly be achieved by doing that?

And the voice on the phone. I don't understand a thing she said, beyond telling me that this is all real.

Why doesn't she want me telling anyone? And who could I possibly tell? I'm alone here in this small room. I couldn't tell anyone if I wanted to! I stroke my fingers along my head, trying to soothe the massive headache I feel coming on. I sit back down on the bed and stare at the blank wall.

What am I supposed to do now?

With a deep sigh, I realize that there's only one thing I can do. Search for a way out. So I do my best. Minutes pass, maybe even an hour. I lose track of time soon after triple-checking all the drawers. But there's nothing. No hidden mechanism, no secret passage, nothing. I even check under the bed and feel around on the floor for hidden panels. I come up empty every time.

On the verge of utter despair, I punch the wall beside the door and let out an exasperated scream.

To my total shock, a portion of the wall slides open, revealing a small number pad.

"How...What..." I stare at it for several long seconds, wondering how long that has been hidden there and what I did to trigger it. Then I come to my senses and try to input some numbers.

There's ten different buttons, each labeled one to nine; the tenth is the enter key. I can only input four numbers before having to hit the enter button. I try a random combination but nothing happens. Frowning, I enter several more to the same result. What am I supposed to do?

That's when I get my second shock. The screen on the device strapped to my wrist, the one I briefly fiddled with before ignoring, suddenly flickers on.

A humanoid figure is on screen. Standing in a circle of light in an otherwise darkened room, it's one of the most bizarre sights I've ever seen. The figure is dressed in heavy black robes and wears some sort of wide-rimmed black leather hat. But the most startling feature of all is the mask. It's pure white, with two frosted glass eyeholes and a long, curved, beak-like nose. It takes me only a moment to recognize it as a plague doctor's costume.

"Hello, Hayle. I'd like to take this opportunity to extend my greetings to you," The figure speaks with a highly-synthesized voice, like someone using a voice modulator. "There won't be much time for pleasantries once the game is afoot, so I believe that now is the proper time to make do with our introductions."

You'd think that I'd be surprised, shocked even. But after everything I've already been through, I take this new development in stride. It's not like things can get any weirder.

"I don't know who you are," I say lamely.

"I do not expect you to," The figure bows his head and gestures with a cane that I had somehow overlooked. "But that does not matter. My identity has no effect on what is about to happen."

"And what is about to happen?" I ask, trying my best to keep my voice level. How many stupid twists am I going to face?

"You, Hayle Saraceno, are here to play a game."

There's a long pause as I stop to take in his words. It's certainly not what I was expecting. In fact, it's so extraordinary out of place that I'm certain I misheard him. "I'm...going to play a game?"

The figure nods his head, the masked beak bobbing up and down. "Oh, yes. It is a very important game, one that has the power to change the fate of the world, but a game nonetheless."

I may not be dreaming, but I'm definitely crazy. This doesn't make sense. None of this makes any sense! The figure, uncaring to my disbelief, continues on. "The goal of the game is very simple. You, Hayle, must work alongside your teammates to survive until the end of game."

Teammates? That's odd, considering that I'm the only person in this room. Who could I possibly team with? And why is that the thing I'm pondering, out of everything that was just said? And why am I just accepting what he says?

"You kidnapped me!" I scream into the screen, my confusion boiling over into rage. "You stole me from my home! From my parents! Why the hell should I listen to anything you have to say?"

"Because you have no choice." The figure says it so calmly, so matter-of-factly, that I freeze in place. A cold sense of dread slithers up my spine as I realize that he's right. I'm trapped in a room with no way out. This person, whoever they are, could just leave me here until I die of dehydration or starvation.

The only way out is to do as he says.

"I see that you have come to the only logical conclusion," The figure strokes his mask with a gloved hand. "That is well. It would not do for you to dwell on the possibility of escape, for there is only one way that is possible." He pauses, as if for dramatic effect.

"And what is that?" I ask warily.

"You must win the game."

So there it is. For me to get home, for me to escape this warped, twisted place, I'm going to have to play some crazy game cooked up by a guy dressed like a plague doctor. What could possibly go wrong?

"What is the game?" I finally ask. "And how do I win it?"

"As I said before, the goal is very simple. All you have to do is survive."

I frown. Something has been bugging me this entire conversation. Well, something other than the complete and utter lack of sense or reason. "You keep saying I have to "survive". What does that mean?"

"You do not know?" The figure gives a little chuckle. "And here I thought it was obvious. Very well. I shall explain. You see, to survive the game you merely have to outlast the other competitors."

"Other competitors?" He did mention that I would be teamed with other people. "How many others are in this "game"?"

The figure waves a hand. "That is irrelevant at the moment. For your team to win, you will need to avoid losing, naturally. However, there is only one way to lose this game. One simple but concise way."

"Which is...?" I'm getting really sick of these dramatic pauses!

The figure spreads his hands. "You die."

There's a long silence as the gravity of these words begin to sink again. Die? You lose the game by dying? How...why...my mind cannot form words. It seems too unbelievable. But there is no doubt about it. This man, this crazy, unhinged lunatic of a man is going to make me play a game where the cost of losing is death.

I almost puke.

"I see that you've realized the gravity of your situation." The figure nods its head. "That is good. There is little point to you trying to deny the facts, so it is pleasant to see you accept the truth of the matter."

No. No, I don't accept anything about this! But...he's right all the same. There isn't anything I can do. I don't know where I am, how he got me here, or how I could even begin to escape. This man, for all extents and purposes, has me in the palm of his hand.

When I speak, my voice is emotionless. "What do you want me to do?"

"I will give you the code to your room. Pay attention now, for I shan't repeat this," The figure takes a small pause, then continues, "2-0-5-2. Once you exit your bedroom you will meet with your fellow teammates. I will be in touch after those introductions. Farewell."

The screen clicks off. I stare at the empty screen for several long seconds. Did all of that really just happen? Am I truly stuck here, forced to play some madmans "game"? It seems impossible. This kind of stuff just doesn't happen in real life. But there's no denying what I just witnessed. No ignoring the truth.

Still, it is a lot to take in. I find myself shaking as I turn toward the number pad. How did this man kidnap me? Have my parents noticed? Surely they have. They must've contacted the police, and a search is already under way. I'm certain that they'll be arriving anytime now. I don't even need to play this game!

But...maybe I should. Just in case the police are delayed.

I focus on the number pad, inputting the code that the man gave me. 2052. There's a soft beeping sound and I hear a click. Is that the door unlocking? I put my hand on the knob and turn slightly. The knob moves. Yes, it has been unlocked.

A chill runs down my spine and I find myself sweating. What awaits me beyond this door? The man said that I would meet my teammates, but who are they? Have they been kidnapped like me? Or is it possible that he is lying? Well, I'll never find out my standing here.

Taking a deep breath, I push the door open.

I don't know what I expected to find on the other side of this door, but it definitely wasn't this.

I step into a large octagonal central space, punched with wide ceiling lights that cheerfully brighten the room. Clusters of simple couches and small chairs of muted colors fill the room, softening the sharp architectural lines.

What is this? I step further into the room, marvelling at the overwhelming sense of ordinary. It looks like some sort of communal living space or something. Kinda like how I imagined college would look.

That thought stops me cold. In the days prior to this occurrence, I had been thinking deeply about college and how it would change my life. And now I find myself here, in this place. That has to be a coincidence, right?

Suddenly weak in the knees, I stumble towards a oval table that sits right outside a small kitchen nook. I plop myself down onto a chair and try to control my breathing. Just what is going on? I want answers, dammit!

Unfortunately I know that none will be forthcoming.

Trying to take my mind off the despair, I turn my attention to my surroundings. Three doors lead off from the room proper, including the one I just came from. Each one has a number written on it in big, black print, from one to three. Mine has a "2". Why is that?

Bookshelves line the walls. A pair of steps lead down into the heart of the room, where large pillows and rugs surround a round rock fireplace. Like in the bedroom, there is no television or computer in sight. I bite my lip. I'd been hoping I'd be able to try and call for help through any such thing.

Click!

I spin around in my chair, nearly toppling out of it. That noise. I recognize it. It's the same as when my door unlocked! A door, the one labelled with a "3" slowly begins to swing open. I hold my breath, wondering what I'm about to see.

A girl steps out. She has a shock of red hair that tumbles past her shoulders and the most vivid blue eyes I've ever seen. She wears jean shorts, black boots, and a red shirt that leaves one of her shoulders bare.

Who is she?

"Um. Hello?" I rise from my chair, slowly crossing the room. Is this one of my "teammates" that the figure mentioned?

The girl is silent, staring at me with an unreadable expression. She must be terribly confused. Well, she's not the only one. I take a few more steps and then the unthinkable happens.

The girl darts forward, quicker than I thought possible, and grips me by the arm. I let out a shout of alarm as the girl hauls me forward. The next thing I know, I'm flipping through the air.

My back slams against the ground and a rush of air escapes my lips. But I don't have time to recover before the girl's forearm slams into my throat, cutting off my breath. Her face appears above mine, twisted into an angry snarl. "Who are you? Why did you kidnap me!"

I can't answer. I can't even breathe. I try to struggle free, but the girl has my body pinned down tight. My hands try to pry her forearm away, but I already feel myself weakening. Black spots appear on the edge of my vision, slowly encroaching...

The girl pulls her arm away. I cough and gag, taking grateful gulps of fresh, precious air. The girl steps off me, and I scramble into a sitting position. "What the hell!" I scream at her. "You could have killed me!"

She punches me in the face.

My vision explodes with light and, when I come back to my senses, I find myself lying face first on the ground. Something grips me by the collar and hauls me to my feet. I find myself staring into the girl's bright blue eyes.

"What are you planning?" She demands, shaking me, "why do you need me?"

"I-I don't know what the hell you're talking about!" It's hard to think. Everything is still kinda blurry.

"Oh? So do you want another punch?" She pulls back her fist.

"No! No, please, no!" I hold my hands up in submittal. I don't care that she's a girl; her punches hurt.

"Then start talking!"

"I don't know anything! Some man kidnapped me! I don't even know where I am!"

The girl suddenly lets go of my collar and I slump to the floor. I don't try to get up; I don't trust that my legs are steady enough. Instead, I stare up at the girl, blinking through tears I didn't know I had. "I don't know what's happening! I just woke up in some room and...and everything has gone crazy!"

"Huh." The girl turns to examine the room. "Guess you're not behind this after all." I don't know why she thought that in the first place, but I don't say anything. At least she's not punching me.

"So...what's your story?" I ask, massaging my throat. Damn, it hurts! This girl really did a number on me.

Ignoring my question, she crosses the room towards Door 2 and swings it open, peeking inside. "It's identical," She says softly. I raise an eyebrow. Did her room look just like mine? I'm about to ask when she turns around and glares at me. "You!"

"Me?"

"Yes, you." She crosses her arms over her chest. "Are you my teammate that figure was speaking of?"

"Uh...I guess so?" Honestly, I don't know. I'd assume so, but I've learned that assuming anything here can be a really bad idea. I push myself to my feet, glad to find that I'm steady on them. "I already told you that I don't know what the hell is going on."

The girl scoffs. Now that we're standing face to face, I take this time to examine her more thoroughly. Her long red hair goes down to her shoulders and frames her face nicely. She has porcelain skin and black arched brows that rest over almond shaped eyes. And what a pair of eyes! They're a dazzling blue that I've never seen anywhere except in pictures of tropical waters.

She's lean but fit, with a slender figure that hides the strength she showed when fighting me. She's not conventionally beautiful. In fact, there's nothing conventional about her at all. She's odd, mystical, an anomaly.

She's also strangely alluring.

"It appears," She says, tapping one finger against her chin, "that you and I have arrived here with the same experience. That suggests that we've both been kidnapped. Do you have any idea why that would be?"

"No clue." I've already tried thinking about this and haven't come up with a single logical reason for why this would be happening.

"A pity."

She goes back to investigating the room. I watch her as she rummages through the cupboards, feeling completely and utterly confused. Who is this girl? My "teammate"? If so, what kind of game are we about to play? I remember the figure and his strange threats of death.

"Hey," I call out to the girl as she is dumping pots and pans out onto the floor, "what's your name?"

No answer.

I think that maybe she didn't hear me, so I repeat the question. Still no response. Ticked off, I try a different tactic. "I'm Hayle," I say, "Hayle Saraceno. I'm from Texas. Coleman, to be exact."

The girl gives up on the cupboards and crosses the room, brushing past me to to reach the couches. She proceeds to rip the cushions off and look underneath them. I watch her, dismayed. Is she purposely ignoring me?

"Are you going to speak to me or not?"

"Shouldn't you be more concerned about escaping?" The girl spins to face me so fast that I instinctively take a step back. "We have been kidnapped, in case you haven't noticed! A psychopath has just told us that he wants us to play his "game" where the losers die! And here you are, shooting the breeze and asking for names!"

God, her eyes are unnerving. They seem to stare right through me, into my soul itself. I shuffle my feet awkwardly. "What's the point? There's no secret escape route. The man wouldn't let us get away that easy."

The girl's eyes flash dangerously. For a moment I think I'm about to get punched. But then she sighs, flinging a cushion to the ground and collapsing onto it. "Unfortunately you are right. Searching for an exit is stupid."

"So...are you going to tell me your name?"

The girl snatches up a pillow and flings it at my chest. It bounces off harmlessly. "I take it that's a no?"

The girl glares at me.

"Okay, okay!" I hold my hands up in surrender. "But I have to call you something. How about Red?"

The girl opens her mouth to respond, but something happens before she can. Something that has us both spinning around to stare.

A door clicks open.

"Oh my! Isn't this quite the sight!" A girl steps out from the Number 3 door. Her hair is golden, descending down her back in ringlets, and she's dressed in powder blue from head to toe; a tight skirt, leggings, and a turtleneck sweater.

For a moment I just stare, completely stunned by this unexpected sight. The girl stares back, then suddenly looks away, her cheeks burning a bright red. I'm confused by the sudden bout of shyness but don't have any time to think about it before I'm being shoved aside.

"Looks like you're our third teammate!" The first girl, the redhead, plants herself right in front of the newcomer. Without a name for either girl, I instantly know that this is going to get confusing.

"I, um, I-I suppose so..." Blondie blushes a deeper red, clutching something to her chest. A sketchbook?

"Don't worry!" I push my way past Red—my nickname idea is suddenly looking very clever—so that I can get a closer look at the girl. "We're just as confused as you are!"

Red snorts. "Is that suppose to comfort her?"

I ignore her and focus on the new girl. "We should share stories," I tell her, "see if we had the same experience and whatnot."

"O-okay..." The girl seems a little hesitant, but she launches into a full explanation anyway. Apparently she woke up in her room with no idea how she got there, just like Red and I did. It's not a very enlightening tale and by the time she's done, I've learned nothing new.

"So we still don't know a thing!" Red grumbles as the girl finishes.

She blushes. "I-I'm sorry!"

"Don't be. It's not your fault!" A thought strikes me. "Oh, yeah. What's your name? I'm Hayle."

"Vika. I'm Vika!" We shake hands, then she turns towards Red, expectant. But the aggressive girl makes no move to introduce herself. Seriously, what's her problem? I know that the situation we're in is deeply troubling and more than a little unsettling, but I don't think unadulterated rudeness is the proper course of action here.

"Well, what now?" I ask the question that's on all of our minds. There are only three numbered doors in this room, and they've all been opened. There's no exits, no clues. I have no idea what to do from here.

Red snorts derisively. "We wait for our mysterious benefactor to give us further instructions, obviously."

For some reason that plan sounds...lacking. But I don't really have any ideas of my own, and I can't see a way out of this situation. I'm having a hard enough time just keeping myself from collapsing with despair. What if the man just leaves us here for the rest of our lives?

"When does the game start?"

I pause, surprised to hear Vika speaking. I had almost forgotten that she was even here. She's so frail and delicate looking that I never expected her to take the lead in a conversation. "What do you mean?" I ask.

"W-well, that is what he said," The girl blushes, her face turning a crimson red. "The masked man, I mean. He said we would play a game, did he not?"

"Yeah, you're right." He did say that. It's actually been on my mind this entire time. What kind of game does he expect us to play, exactly?

"He said that we could die in the game," Red has pulled away from us and is standing by the #2 door, her arms crossed. "So Russian Roulette, maybe?"

Vika gasps. "No! That would be horrid!"

"No," I shake my head.

She turns to me, aghast. "Do not tell me you don't think that game is horrid!"

"No, that's not what I meant. We won't be playing Russian Roulette."

Red frowns, raising an arched eyebrow. "And how, exactly, do you figure that?"

"We're a team, remember? You don't need teams in Russian Roulette." Admittedly, I know little about the game to begin with, but I do know that teams wouldn't make sense for it. "And besides, do you really think he kidnapped us all just so that we could play such a simple game?"

Red's lips twitch. Whether in a smile or a frown, I don't know. "No," she says. "I didn't think that would be the answer. I was merely thinking out loud." I don't know if I believe that, but I'm not about to put my doubts to words—my face still hurts from the first time she punched me.

With little else to do, the three of us continue brainstorming ideas. Vika suggests that the masked man might be holding us for ransom, but Red cuts that idea down right away. I find myself agreeing with her. What would anyone expect to gain from ransoming me? I mean, my family is pretty well off, but we're not rich or anything like that. I doubt we could even afford any ransom, even though I know that my parents would pay it in a heartbeat.

"Whyever are you so adamant we're not being held ransom?" Vika asks Red. She's truly caught up in her own idea.

"Because there's nobody out there who cares if I'm gone!" Red shoots back.

Everyone goes silent.

I don't know what to say. Nobody cares she's missing? What does that mean? I stare at Red, looking for answers, but she just glares at Vika and turns her back on us.

"I-I'm sorry!" Vika stutters. Once again, her face turns a bright shade of red. "I didn't mean to offend! Truly, I didn't!"

"Shut up."

"That's uncalled for! I was merely—"

"No, shut up! Don't you hear that?"

When we all go quiet, I do. It's a soft, musical sound with high, sweet notes. It reminds me of a music box my mom had back home. But where is it coming from? When I raise my hand to scratch my head, I see it.

The screen on my bracelet has turned back on. The mysterious figure is back.

"Hello, Beta Team!" The figure bows to us. He's still dressed in that plague doctor costume and is still in the same dark room. "I hope that the formalities have gone well?"

We all react differently. Red curses, telling him where he should stick those formalities. Vika looks troubled. I merely frown. I've already accepted that this is happening—the only thing left to do is figure exactly what is happening.

The figure claps his gloved hands together. "Excellent, excellent. I am sure you will all get along splendidly. But before we get any further, I believe that I should introduce myself. I am Dr. Black and I will be your host for this game."

Dr. Black. It's not as if I was expecting him to have a grand reveal of a secret identity or anything, but I still feel...let down, I guess you could say. I mean, Dr. Black? Did he even try to think of something original or cool?

"Please, sir!" Vika practically has tears in her eyes. "You must let us go! I am quite certain that my father would pay you handsomely if you were to return me unharmed."

"Money is irrelevant."

Vika gasps, deflating like a balloon. I didn't think that bribery would work, but it was definitely worth a shot. Red, however, begins to curse again.

"If you don't want money," I say, cutting her off, "then what do you want?"

"I believe I've already told you. I want you all to play my game."

A shiver runs down my spine. It's not new information, but the single track mind of this person is...frightening. How much resources did they expend kidnapping us? And what kind of payoff do they expect? I want to ask, but I know that I wouldn't get a straight answer.

"What is your game?"

Dr. Black spreads his hands, chuckling softly. "That is what I was about to tell you, before all these interruptions."

This time we all fall silent, even Red. Dr. Black waits a few seconds, then nods his beaked head. "Very good. You are learning. That is very good."

"Are you going to explain or not?"

"Patience, Hayle. Patience. Good things come to those who wait." Somehow I don't think any good things are coming my way. Dr. Black rubs a hand along the length of his mask, staring at us through the screen with those ghostly glass eyes. "My explanation, however, will most likely not meet your expectations."

"Try me."

"Very well. Now listen closely, for I shan't repeat myself. In this game there will be thirty players, Challengers, if you will. These Challengers will be divided into ten groups of three. It will be these teams that compete against one another for victory. You three, by the by, are Beta Team."

Thirty? There are thirty of us trapped here? I glance around the room, half-expecting to see twenty-seven other people hiding about. How in the world did Dr. Black manage this?

"What kind of game will we be playing?" Red demands. I sigh. As blunt as ever, I see.

"There will be many variations and rules to my game. Perhaps you could call them multiple games inside a game? Yes, games. I like the sound of that."

"Get to the point!"

"Patience, I am getting there. You see, the three of you will need to progress through a series of games to survive until the end. These games will vary wildly in rules and regulations. They will not all be the same and you will need different strategies to win each one."

I exchange a glance with Red. Judging by the look on her face she understands as little of this as I do. Vika rubs her head, looking absolutely lost.

Dr. Black sighs. "Yes, I thought that it would be too difficult for you to comprehend. I hoped otherwise but, well, hope is not reality."

"Are you calling us stupid?"

"I would never. However, I do believe that a hands-on experience is necessary. Observe."

The wall on the far side of the room, one of the two without a door, suddenly changes color. The tan flickers into a deep black, then slowly begins to fill with images. That's when it hits me. It's not a wall at all, it's a screen!

The screen transitions into a view of a room nearly identical to the one we're in. It has the same couches, the same chairs, and even the same fireplace. But most alarming is what sits in the center of the room, standing in nearly the exact spots we're in.

People. Three people.

"Wh-what are we looking at?" I gape at the screen. The trio of people don't seem to see us; they're currently in the midst of what looks like an argument.

"You are currently viewing Alpha Team," Dr. Black's voice says from my bracelet. "They can not yet see you, however."

"What are you planning?" Red demands. If I wasn't scared out of my mind I'd probably roll my eyes. Does she really think he'll answer that?

"In due time. All in due time. Now, if you excuse me, I must go speak with our guests."

The screens on our bracelets flick off. Dr. Black is gone. It doesn't take long, however, before I see where he has gone. Inside the screen the three people raise their arms and begin staring at their own bracelets. No doubt Dr. Black is speaking with them.

But who are they?

I take this opportunity to study them further. They seem to be around the same age as me, Red, and Vika. That would put them somewhere in their late teens. There's two guys and one girl. My eyes are naturally drawn to the girl. She is tall and athletic, with a muscular body type and long brown hair. Her face is drawn back into a glare as she looks at her bracelet. Clearly she does not like Dr. Black. Not that I can blame her.

As I move my attention to the two boys, I notice that they're almost complete opposites. One is short, with curly light brown hair and darkly tanned skin. The other is tall and blond, with the palest skin I've ever seen. The two of them stand side-by-side, watching the girl converse with Dr. Black.

"Who do you think they are?" I ask Vika and Red.

"Who cares?" Red doesn't take her eyes off the screen. No doubt she is still thinking about how to get information out of Dr. Black.

"W-well, I'd say that they've probably been kidnapped like us," Vika says, watching Red closely. Is she afraid that the girl will scold her?

I open my mouth to agree with her when the musical chimes begin and once again Dr. Black is on our bracelets. The man doesn't even give us time to process this sudden appearance. "I believe you wished to know what forms the games world take," He speaks briskly, barely pausing. "Well, here is your chance. The three of you are about to partake in the very first game of this program."

I exchange an uneasy glance with Vika. Red, however, only laughs. "Well?" She sneers into her screen. "Are you going to explain the rules of this "game" or are we just going to have to try and guess?"

"Patience, please," Dr. Black holds both hands up, as if trying to calm an angry dog. "If you would only remain quiet and listen, I will explain everything about this game. Now, do you believe you can do that?"

Red opens her mouth only to snap it shut, scowling. Dr. Black nods. "Very good, very good. It appears you are learning, that is good. Now, this particular game, which will hereby be called the Decision Game, is very simple. The three of you will merely have to make a decision."

I'm not going to lie. That does sound simple enough. But anything can be simple when stripped down to its barest essence. I'm more than certain that this "Decision Game" won't be nearly as simple as Dr. Black would have us believe.

"What decision will we be making, sir?" Vika asks. I frown. How can that girl stay so polite?

Dr. Black is silent for a moment, the frosted glass eyes of his mask twinkling ominously. "Your decision is simple. You will choose who dies."

Silence.

It feels like I've been punched in the gut. I reel backwards, heart throbbing with a fear more intense than any other I've ever felt. Surely I didn't hear him correctly. Surely he didn't just say that we would be deciding who dies.

"E-excuse me?" Vika stumbles, looking just as shocked as I feel. Red, however, merely throws her head back and laughs. I have no idea what she finds so funny; I'm having trouble merely breathing.

"I thought you said we were a team?" I finally say, my voice low and hoarse. "Now you want us to kill one another?"

On screen, Dr. Black tilts his head. "Hmm. I believe you misunderstand. In the Decision Game you will not be deciding who dies on your team. No, you will be deciding who dies on Alpha Team."

I blink twice, then lick my lips. "I...don't understand."

Dr. Black sighs. "The three of you will each have one vote. You will be presented with three options; each option being a member of Alpha Team. You will be given a period of time to think over and discuss your decision, after which you will then proceed to vote. Whichever member of Alpha Team that receives the most amount of votes will be killed. Tell me, Hayle, do you understand that?"

I do. It hurts me like a stab to the heart, but I do. I understand what he is asking of me. Asking of us all. He wants to kill someone, one of those three teenagers. He wants us to become murderers.

"How will they be killed?" Red asks quietly.

"Hmm?"

"How will the voted be killed?"

"Oh, they'll be injected with a lethal posion via their bracelets. It'll be quite painless, so you needn't worry about any undue suffering."

There's another long silence. I shift my feet, suddenly feeling like I'm being suffocated. How did I get trapped in this nightmare? Then, just as I am about to speak, the unexpected happens.

Vika lets out a loud, primal scream. She smashes a fist against her bracelet, punching it repeatedly."You're insane!" She howls at Dr. Black. "You are completely and utterly INSANE! I will not vote! I will not kill anyone! I refuse! Do you hear me? I REFUSE!"

She goes silent, swaying unsteadily, chest rising and falling with each laboured breath. I stare in stupified shock. I didn't think Vika capable of such tenacity. She seemed so quiet and soft-spoken that this outburst just...stunned me.

"Refusing to vote is a viable choice," Dr. Black continues to speak normally, not even changing his tone of voice. It's as if Vika's screaming never even happened. "However, that choice has its own drawbacks. If you neglect to vote, then you will be injected with poison. In short, refusal to vote is a vote against yourself."

So those are our options. Kill someone else or kill ourselves. I feel my mind locking up, seizing in place. None of this feels real. It's all so...otherworldly.

Vika lets out a quiet sob, sinking to the floor. Red stares at the wall in silence, apparently thinking. I can't even do that. I can only stand here doing...nothing. What's the point?

"Oh, one more thing."

In an instant my gaze snaps back to my bracelet, where Dr. Black waits. He holds up a single gloved finger. "I forgot to mention that, while you will be voting to kill a member of Alpha Team, they will also be voting to kill one of you."

For a long moment no one reacts. My mind can barely process the words. They...will vote to kill one of us? Kill...kill. Kill?

"You bastard!" Red snarls at her screen.

Dr. Black wags a finger. "That is patently false. My parents were married before I was conceived, let alone born."

Red lets loose with a litany of curses, screaming her defiance. Vika is still curled up on the floor. I, however, stand apart. I feel cold, empty. My life hinges on the prospect of three teenagers in the room across from us. Three people who are barely more than kids will decide which one of us will die.

Is life really so cheap?

"The Decision Game has begun. I will give you all time to discuss your impending decision. Until then, farewell."

The screen flicks off.

"Come back here, you bastard!" Red screams at the ceiling, to no avail. While my teammates rage and sob, I turn my attention to the far wall, the wall that lets us look in on Alpha Team.

The three of them seem to be handling things remarkably better than we are; the girl is pointing at her bracelet, waving animatedly and saying something I can't hear to the brown haired boy. The blond boy, meanwhile, stands off to the side looking...bored, of all things.

Which one of us will they choose? I find myself morbidly fascinated with the conundrum. How does one decide to kill one person out of a group of complete strangers? How am I supposed to decide?

"We mustn't play this game!"

I turn to see Vika on her feet, wiping away tears with her sleeve. "Dr. Black is bluffing. He wouldn't really kill all three of us. He wouldn't have a game then, would he?"

"He said that there were thirty of us here," I say numbly. "Pretty sure he can afford to kill three."

Vika sniffs, but to her credit she doesn't cry. "I...I don't know what to do then. Surely we can't vote to kill someone!"

"Why not?"

We both spin to see Red glaring at us, hands planted on her hips. She takes one hand and jerks a finger at the screen, at the other trio. "They're going to kill one of us, so why the hell shouldn't we kill one of them?"

"We don't know that..." Vika begins, only to be cut off by Red's mocking laugh.

"Oh, yes we do! Are you really dumb enough to believe that they'll throw their own lives away just so that they can continue to delude themselves into thinking they're "good" people?"

"So what do you suggest we do?" I ask, finding that I feel oddly detached from this whole situation. I should be just as concerned as Vika, but for some reason I feel...I don't know. I don't know how to explain it.

"We play the game, of course," Red says. "What else? I'm going to play the game and hope that those morons over there decide to off someone else."

"One of us, you mean."

Red scowls but says nothing more. The realization hits me like a stone. Even if that other team—Alpha Team, Dr. Black called them—decides to spare me, that just means that they've decided to kill Red or Vika instead.

I stare blankly at two girls. I barely know either of them, but the thought of them dying...

"There has to be another way!"

"There isn't. We play the game or we die. There's no middle ground."

She's right. I already knew that, of course, but hearing her say so aloud is just the final nail in the coffin. One of our coffins. Those three teenagers are going to kill one of us. I should feel enraged, but I can't muster the emotion. They have as little choice in the matter as we do.

"Wh-who are we going to choose?"

Vika's question snaps me out of my thoughts. I turn to face her. "What are you talking about?"

She gestures limply at Alpha Team. "If we absolutely have to choose, then, well, who do we choose?"

Before I can answer, our datapads begin to resonate with that familiar music. Surprised, I look down to see that Dr. Black has reappeared on our bracelet screens. "Greetings to one and all. I would like to inform you that it is now Decision Time. You will have ten minutes to lock in your choices. Remember, refusing to vote will result in your demise. Good luck."

Dr. Black blinks off screen. But instead of turning off, the screen instead switches to a new image. There's three pictures showing three teenagers, obviously Alpha Team, and above each picture is a small red button engraved with the word "Vote". Beneath each picture is a series of text.

"What is this?" Red demands, scowling at her bracelet.

I study the text underneath the pictures, surprised to find that it's basically a bio for each teenager. The girl is named Ophyra Grate, and she's a high school senior from San Diego, California. She's also apparently a champion martial artist which, looking at her muscular, toned body, I can believe.

The brown-haired boy is Jackson Sparks. He's a high school student from Stanford, California. The only other information about him is that his parents are elementary school teachers and that he's "lazy and dedicated to gaining vengeance on those who've wronged him." Which, admittedly, is creepy.

I finally turn my attention to the bio of the blond boy. But I frown when I see the information presented. Or, more accurately, the lack of information. His name is Boone Dixon and he hails from Montana. That's it. There's nothing else. It doesn't even say whether he goes to high school or not.

Frowning, I look up to see Red tapping away at her screen. Surely she's not already voting? I'm about to ask her when I remember how hard she punched me earlier.

"Do they have the same information on us?" I ask instead. "Like, are they reading our bios?"

"Look for yourself, stupid!" Red points at the wallscreen, where I can see Alpha Team intently studying their bracelets. Except for the blond boy, Boone. He's just leaning against the wall, casually examining his fingernails.

How can he be so calm?

"What did you guys vote?" Vika wraps her arms around herself, seemingly trembling with fear or anticipation. Probably both.

"Why the hell should I tell you?" Red snaps.

Vika is taken back. "W-well, why wouldn't you tell me? I mean, we're deciding on a person's life! If we coordinated we could—"

"We could what? Kill someone as a group?" Red sneers. "No thanks. I've already cast my vote and couldn't care less what you two dolts choose."

"Well, I voted Ophyra," Vika ignores the barbed insult, turning to face Alpha Team. "Something about her posture just...bothers me. It's almost as if this game excites her."

"Wait." I blink stupidly. "You've both already voted?"

Their only response is to give me blank looks. I'm stunned. I mean, I'm not surprised that Red was so casual and flippant about voting to kill someone, but I had expected more out of Vika. Wasn't she just talking about the sanctity of life?

"Five minutes remaining."

An automated voice beeps out of the bracelet. Red smirks at me. "Better get voting, Hayle. Don't want to die now, do you?"

I feel myself break out into a sweat. Oh, I am not good under pressure. I turn to my bracelet, stomach heaving. Vote to kill someone? How am I suppose to decide? I gaze at the three faces, feeling pity mixed with disgust at myself.

I can't pick Ophyra. Vika already chose her, so if I did the same that would mean she'd receive two of the three votes. Basically, if I vote her she dies. And I'm not about to be the deciding vote on who dies!

That leaves me with only two options; Jackson and Boone. Jackson and his whole revenge thing freaks me out, but Boone and his carefree demeanor is just as unsettling. I find myself unsure on how to decide. Which one did Red vote?

"Ten seconds."

Not good! Not enough time!

"Nine seconds."

I stare at the two faces, unable to make a choice.

"Eight seconds."

I don't want to kill anyone. I don't!

"Seven seconds."

Taking a deep breath, I reach out and hit a button. I only hope Red didn't make the same choice. Suddenly weak in the knees, I stumble towards one of the couches and drop myself onto it. I sink into the cushions, hiding my face behind my hands.

Did I really just do that? Did I really just vote to kill someone?

"Your vote has been registered. Thank you for playing!" A pleasant computerized, feminine voice chirps out of my datapad.

I feel the couch vibrate as someone sits next to me. I remove my hands and see Vika watching me, her blue eyes swimming with concern. "Who did you vote?" She asks softly.

My voice is little more than a rasp as I answer. "Boone."

Vika nods. She looks so understanding. Too understanding. Unable to look at her, I turn to face the wall that shows us Alpha Team. They're all standing in a line, staring at their bracelets. Maybe they're waiting for the results. The horrid, horrid results.

"The Decision Game has come to an end!" Dr. Black's voice blares out my bracelet, but when I look down all I see is the pictures of Alpha Team. "And, now that the game has concluded, I will show you the results!"

The screen transitions to show a sparkling silver font displaying the words "Alpha Team Results". Underneath the words the picture of Jackson appears. "Jackson Sparks," Dr. Black intones, "has received...zero votes."

A large white zero appears under his face. I feel my chest tighten as, beside me, Vika gasps. If Jackson didn't receive any votes, then that means Red voted for either Ophyra or Boone. Meaning...Vika or I just helped kill someone.

"Ophrya Grates..." Dr. Black continues on with that same lifeless tone as Ophyra's picture joins Jackson's. "Received a total of...two votes."

"No!" Vika leaps to her feet, eyes wide with horror. She wheels to face Red. "Why didn't you tell me who you voted? We could have avoided this!"

Red shrugs. "Avoided what? Someone was going to die either way!"

The two continue to bicker, but I'm no longer listening. My attention has honed in on Alpha Team and their own reactions to the results. Ophyra is staring blankly at her bracelet, seemingly stunned into silence. Jackson is screaming, his face red with anger. Boone...he's standing apart from the others, hands in his pockets as he watches with an indifferent expression.

"As Ophyra has received majority of the votes," Dr. Black is once again speaking, his voice still completely emotionless, "that means she will be executed. Immediately. Do you have any final words, Ophyra?"

The girl looks up. Her face is pallid, soaked with sweat. She opens her mouth, but before she can even speak her body begins to tremble. Her eyes roll into her head as her limbs begin to jerk rapidly. Then, in what feels like a matter of seconds, she collapses. She hits the hardwood floor with a thump, body now motionless.

She does not get back up.

"Oh, God!" Vika screams. "She's dead! No! Oh, God, no!"

I can only stare. Stare at the body of the girl who, only moments ago, was hale and healthy. Now she's dead. And for what? Why? What does Dr. Black get out of this? What could he possibly achieve?

"And now, it is time for Beta Team's results."

My brain stops working. Thoughts die before they even begin. What if...How...me? What if they voted me? I stare silently as, all at once, our pictures appear on screen. Then, under our faces and names, the numbers. The votes.

Hayle Saraceno 1

Arlyssa Valiante 1

Victoria Caprae 1

I have no words. No reaction. I stare at the results, dumbfounded and dismayed. We...we all received a vote? It's a tie? But that means...that means...

"We're all going to die..." Vika says softly. Her quiet, somber tone is contrasted by her previous frantic panic. She drops to her knees, eyes swimming with tears as she looks at the votes that sealed our fate.

Even Red doesn't have anything to say. She gapes at the screen, hands on her head and mouth hanging open, as if she was about to say something before seeing the results.

"It appears that it is a tie!" Dr. Black's voice comes through our bracelets. "A truly remarkable turn of events. Yes, I did not envision that such a thing would occur. Very well. Since it is a tie, that means...no one on Beta Team will be killed."

What?

Wait. What!

My head snaps up. Eyes swivel around to find Dr. Black, but he is not on screen. Did I hear him correctly? Have I gone insane with grief? Or did he really say it? Did he really say that no one will die?

"I see that you are all confused," My bracelet screen flickers to finally show Dr. Black. He is pacing around a dark room, hands clasped about his cane. "Allow me to clear up this...misunderstanding. You see, the rules were that the member of Beta Team who received the most votes would be executed. However, seeing as you each received one vote that, in effect, prevented any one of you from receiving the most votes."

I don't know if I completely understand what he's saying, but I don't care. I'm alive! I'm not going to be killed! Laughing with a sudden, insane glee, I leap from the couch and fist bump the air.

I'm so glad, in fact, that I'm utterly shocked when I see the look of pure horror on Vika's face. I halt my celebration and look around. The room is unchanged. "Uh, what's wrong?" I ask her.

"We could have saved her," She murmurs, "we could have saved her!"

"Um. Who are you..." I trail off as I follow her gaze and see Ophyra's body. Jackson is kneeling beside it while Boone watches from a distance. Saved her...it hits me like a punch in the gut. If we had all voted someone different, if we had all coordinated...

We could have prevented her death.

I feel insanely guilty, even though there is no reason for it. After all, I didn't vote for her. I was the only one on my team who didn't. But still...I could have done something. Couldn't I?

"There would have been no point!" Red scoffs. She seems to have recovered from her brief bout of shock and is now at the lone unmarked door, jiggering its knob.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Do you really think that this is the end of Dr. Black's "games", Hayle? Do you believe that, just because we survived this one, we're all in the clear?"

I have no answer for her. I just stare blankly ahead, blindsided by what should have been obvious from the start. Then, seemingly reading my thoughts, Dr. Black speaks from the bracelet. "Dear Arlyssa is quite right, you know. The games aren't over. Oh no. Far from it. In fact, they've just begun."

Hayle Saraceno (Beta Team)
This isn't happening. This can't be happening. I'm not trapped here by some crazy psycho, forced to play sick games for reasons unexplained. I'm not completely and utterly unaware of anything and everything that I could do to escape. I'm not...

I am.

I stare at the wall, feeling sick. My body trembles and my legs feel like jelly. How long will this continue? How long will we have to play?

"When does the next game begin?" Red—Arlyssa?—whirls to glare at the ceiling, hands on her hips.

Dr. Black chuckles. It's a creepy enough sound on its own, but its amplified a hundredfold by the fact that it echoes on all three of our bracelets. "My, aren't you eager? Unfortunately, dear Arlyssa, you will have to wait a bit for the next game. These things take time, you know."

Arlyssa scowls. "The hell with that! You expect us just to sit in this room and wait?"

"No. Of course not. You will be let out into...the Playing Field. There, you will wait. Of course, there will be plenty of danger and thrills out there for you. More than enough, I assure you."

Oh, I do not like the sound of that! I open my mouth to protest, but the glare Arlyssa sends my way has me snapping it shut again. "What will we be doing out there?" She demands.

Dr. Black's reply is the vocal equivalent of a shrug. "Whatever you wish. Until the next game begins, of course." Then, just like that, the screen flicks off.

Of course. That cryptic answer didn't explain anything! I turn to my two allies, not at all surprised by their demeanours. Arlyssa is scowling and punching the wall. Vika, however, is sitting on the couch, arms wrapped tightly around herself. "What are we going to do?" She speaks aloud, though it doesn't seem like her words are addressed to anyone. "Are we just supposed to sit around and...wait for us all to die?"

"We'll play his games," Arlyssa growls. "For now. But first chance I get, I'm blowing this joint."

Her words strike a chord in my memory. A voice...on the phone! I nearly gasp at my stupidity. How did I forget all about that? That voice, whoever it was, had warned me about this. Told me that I had to escape. Who were they and how did they know about Dr. Black and his games?

I'm about to turn and ask Arlyssa if she received a similar call when I remember more of the mysterious callers words. Do not tell anyone. I didn't understand it at first, because I was all alone, but now...

I watch Arlyssa as she futility tries to punch her way through the screen that used to show us Alpha Team but is now just blank. Why can't I tell my teammates? Is it because Dr. Black might overhear? Or is there a more nefarious reason?

Lost in these troubling thoughts, I barely notice the wall behind me as it slides open. "What the hell?"

Hearing my shout, Arlyssa spins around. Her eyes widen in surprise as she watches the wall, the entire wall, slide open like a screen door. Beyond it lies a dark tunnel, like the gaping maw of a sleeping monster.

For several long moments I just stand there, stunned. "Th-that must be the way we're supposed to go," I say, nervously scratching my head.

Arlyssa grunts. "Obviously."

Despite this, none of us make a move. I shift my weight from leg to leg, rooted to the spot. That tunnel is just so dark and ominous. Who knows what lies at the end? Knowing Dr. Black, it must be something horrible.

"Are...are we going to enter?" Vika steps up beside me, apparently recovered from her latest bout of melancholy. Before I can answer, Arlyssa pushes past us. The girl marches right up into the tunnel and disappears inside without even a glance backwards.

I exchange looks with Vika. "Well, I guess that answers it."

I force my body into motion, walking towards the tunnel. There's nothing to fear. Yes, Dr. Black has proven to be maniacal psychopath, but he also hasn't yet done anything that implies he would personally harm us. So far it seems like he'd rather us kill each other. Which is still troubling, true, but it makes me feel safer about traversing this tunnel.

At least, a little safer.

Vika follows me into the tunnel, staying close by my side. Every few feet there's an overhead fluorescent light. Each one offers only a meager, flickering light, but it's just enough to see by.

The walls seem to be made out of some sort of sheet metal, and the ground is very clearly sloping upwards. I can't help but wonder what that implies. Are we heading for the roof? Or have we been underground this whole time?

There is no sound but for our footsteps and Vika's soft breathing. There's also no sign of Arlyssa, but I'm not worried. The tunnel is completely straight, so she could only have gone one way.

Soon we're stepping out of the tunnel and into a spherical room. Arlyssa stands in the center, hands on her hips as she studies a pair of doublewide doors. To her side, set against the leftmost wall, is a small table that holds a trio of bags.

"What is this place?" Vika asks as I stop to take it all in. The austere severity is perhaps a bit too overwhelming. Besides for the aforementioned door and table, there is absolutely nothing in the room. The floor is concrete while the ceiling and walls are the same sheet metal as the tunnel.

"About time you arrived!" Arlyssa turns to glare at us.

I raise an eyebrow. "You couldn't possibly have been here for more than a few minutes!"

"More than enough time for me to get impatient!" She crosses over to the table and smacks her palm against it. "Now get over here, you dolts!"

Curious to what has her so riled up, I step up to the table. There's a small sheet of paper pinned to it that reads "Full Team Required". I frown. "What is this for?"

In answer, musical chimes sound out.

Instinctively I look to my bracelet, where Dr. Black has just reappeared on screen. He claps his gloved hands together. "Congratulations, Beta Team. It appears you have reached the Door of Beginnings."

The what? I blink stupidly, looking around to see if anyone else understood what he just said. But they both look just as confused as I do, so I turn back to the screen. "Past that door," Dr. Black continues, "you will find the Playing Field. That is where you will spend most of your time. That is also where you will most likely encounter the other teams for the first time."

I still have no idea what any of that means. But I do understand the part about the other teams. We've already seen one, Alpha. How many others are there?

"I do not wish to bog you down with long, meandering exposition, so I will keep this brief. As the goal of this game is to be the last team standing, outside in the Playing Field is where you will have one simple goal: Kill the other teams."

I nearly choke on my shock. Beside me, Vika gasps. "What! You can't be serious!" Kill the other teams? Did he seriously just say that? Images of Ophrya's body thumping to the ground flashes in my mind. Does he really want us to repeat that atrocious act?

"No!" Vika shakes her head, blonde curls bouncing. "No! I refuse! I won't kill anyone!"

Dr. Black chuckles. "You won't have to. You see, while it is perfectly fine to kill the other teams whilst out in the Playing Field, it is not required. You may, if you wish, simply try to carve out a living and wait for the next Event Hub to open."

I feel like he is intentionally trying to confuse us by throwing out such contradictory statements. I have no idea what he stands to gain from such a thing, but I can think of no other reason for his bizarre claims.

"So which is it?" Arlyssa demands. "Do we kill the other teams or not?"

"That decision, dear Arlyssa, is entirely up to you. Just keep in mind that, just because you will not try to kill the other teams, does not mean that they won't try to kill you." He's joking, right? No way that anyone would actually try and kill us. No way.

"Now, with that brief explanation out of the way, let us discuss the bags you see before you."

My eyes swivel up to the table, where three identical bags rest. Black, sturdy, and with a tactical look that reminds me of the military, they don't seem to be anything special. I cautiously poke one with a finger. "These bags?"

"Indeed. Those bags. Now, let me explain. Out in the Playing Field you will be required to scavenge for supplies. There will be no kitchens, no predetermined meal times. You will be subject to the weather and every other natural phenomena that nature throws at you. In short, you will be surviving in the wilderness."

Great. Just what I wanted. A camping trip where I may or may not have to worry about some psychopaths trying to kill me.

"I realize, however, that you all may not be accustomed to such endeavours. That is why I have prepared these bags, once for each of you. Inside you will find some supplies that will make your initial efforts to survive a little easier. I should warn you, however, that along with the standard rations, each bag contains different, unique items. Choose wisely."

There is a short pause. "Once you have chosen, the Door of Beginnings will open and you will be released into the Playing Field. There you will have to try and survive until my next announcement. Good luck."

The screen clicks off.

"Wait!" I shoot a hand out to try and flick it back on, even though I know that it is futile. ""You barely explained anything!"

"And he's gone," Arlyssa rubs her forehead. "What a confusing mess this is."

"I won't kill anyone!" Vika stamps her feet. "I will not!"

"Can it, Blondie. We need to think." As Vika gasps in shock, Arlyssa turns to me. "Looks like we're going to need to choose a bag. I get first pick." Then, before anyone can even respond, she reaches out and grabs the bag in the center. A moment later I grab the bag on the right. Vika, still sulky, takes the last bag.

"What is even in these?" She asks.

"Dunno." I set mine back on the table and unzip it. The first item I pull out is a canteen. Not surprising. If Dr. Black was being honest and we really are going to be surviving in the wilderness, then water is going to be at a premium.

Reaching deeper into the pack, I find several energy bars and a few bags of roasted nuts. Folded up beneath these is an item I recognize from late-night infomercials; a space blanket. Apparently it's a special blanket that helps you retain body heat or something like that.

"Looks like we have similar items," Vika says. I look up, surprised to find her next to me, going through her own bag. "Our food and water supply is the same, but instead of that blanket I have these." She deposits a small plastic bag on the table. I peer at, noticing the small cotton balls inside.

"What are those?"

"They're cotton balls," Arlyssa says from where she stands behind us. "Looks like they're covered in petroleum jelly, which makes me think they're meant for starting fires."

Vika and I turn to look at her.

"What?" She shrugs. "I'm not an idiot; I know things."

"That isn't the kind of thing most people know," I say. Then again, neither are space blankets.

"What do you have, Arlyssa?" Vika begins to question her as I return to checking my bag. I'm half-listening to the conversation, so I'm shocked when I see the next thing I pull out.

A knife.

"—same food as you and a poncho. I—Huh!" Arlyssa stares at the knife, eyes going wide. Vika, turning to see what got her attention, lets out a gasp when she spots it.

"No! Put it away! Put it away!"

"Relax, it's not a weapon." Arlyssa reaches out and yanks the knife from my hands. I think about complaining, but shut that idea down when I remember the punch. She spins it around, admiring the blade.

"How is a knife not a weapon?"

"Because it's not just meant for killing, you blonde bimbo!" Arlyssa gives the knife one last look over then hands it back to me. "It's a survival knife, and that means it's designed for work such as setting traps, cutting branches, carving wood, and skinning animals. Not killing people."

I study the blade, noticing its length is at least seven inches. I'm not an expert on weapons or things like that, but I'm pretty sure a knife this big could very easily be turned into a weapon.

Is that what Dr. Black intends? Does he want us to kill each other with weapons like this? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, I'm sure that this knife will come in handy, especially since I notice that there's a compass set in the cap of the handle.

"Did you two get anything like this?" I ask, storing the knife into a sheath I pull out of the bag.

Vika shakes her head. Arlyssa, however, grins and reaches into her own bag. "Behold! A true weapon!"

She pulls out a revolver.

Vika lets out a squeal, ducking behind me and clutching my arm. I simply gape as Arlyssa waves the gun around. "Watch where you're pointing that!"

"I'm not going to shoot you, moron!" Despite her remarks Arlyssa carefully lowers the revolver until it's pointed at the floor. I breath a silent sigh of relief. The last thing I want is to get accidentally shot by someone who is supposed to be my teammate.

"I-is that real?" Vika peeks out from behind my arm.

Arlyssa shrugs. "Only one way to find out." She raises the gun and turns to aim down the tunnel.

"Wait! Don't—"

Too late. Arlyssa pulls the trigger and there's an ear-splitting Crack! as a bullet explodes down the tunnel. Halfway down it slams into the wall and begins to ricochet back and forth.

Vika yelps and ducks under the table as I back off, cursing Arlyssa for her carelessness. She only laughs. "Yep, it's real alright. Looks like it only has six bullets, though. Maybe I should have saved that one."

The bullet finally loses momentum, dropping to the floor and skidding away somewhere in the darkness of the tunnel. Heart beating like a drum, I find myself glaring at Arlyssa. "Are you insane? You never shoot a gun indoors! Even I know that!"

Arlyssa opens her mouth, probably to snap off a retort, but before she can even form any words she's interrupted by a long, slow grinding sound. At first I fear that her reckless shot has somehow made the ceiling collapse, but then Vika points behind me. "Oh! The door is opening!"

The door, the one Dr. Black called the "Door of Beginnings" has begun to swing open. The wide doors take a ponderous amount of time, grating against the concrete floor as they do. I blink my eyes as a new source of light shines through the newly formed gap. Sunlight?

A minute later, the doors are fully open. A cool gust of wind blows in, rustling our clothes and bringing in the strong scent of pine. As we slowly approach, soft yellow light envelopes us.

"Trees!" Vika claps happily as I step outside.

Tall pine trees surround me on all sides. The ground is soft and covered with nettles and pinecones, a handful resting just beside my feet. Spinning around, I can see that I've just exited what looks like the mouth of a metal bunker, one that is completely built right into the side of a cliffside.

"We're on a mountain," Arlyssa says, stepping out beside me. She folds her arms across her chest and gazes out above us where, true to her words, I can see the knotted peaks of a mountain range.

"I think we're more of at the base of one."

"Whatever."

I look to the sky, where lances of sunlight shine through the gaps in the trees. This forest...it definitely doesn't look like anything in Texas, or at least the part where I live. The pine trees alone are a clear giveaway.

So if I'm not in Texas, where am I?

A question suddenly springs to mind and I turn to Vika and Arlyssa. "What states do you two live in?"

Vika frowns. "Connecticut, why?"

I nod and turn to Arlyssa. "You?"

She scowls at me. "I don't see why it matters."

"Just answer the question!"

"Fine. I'm from California. Happy now?"

Vika gasps, suddenly aware of what I've already discovered. "We're all from different states," I say, pacing. "States that are nowhere close to one another. Why then, has Dr. Black kidnapped us? Wouldn't it have been easier to kidnap three teenagers from the same state? Why go across the country to get us three in particular?"

"Maybe...maybe he wanted someone from every state?" Vika hugs her sketchbook to her chest. "That would make sense, wouldn't it?"

I shake my head. "It would, if he had fifty people here. But he explicitly mentioned that there were only around thirty of us."

Arlyssa, who doesn't seem to be as perturbed by this as I am, narrows her eyes at me. "Why does it matter? Dr. Black is obviously an insane psychopath. I doubt even he knows why he does what he does."

I don't respond, still lost in thought. Dr. Black is insane, that's true, but he seems to know exactly what he's doing. So far everything he's done has been meticulously planned. Nothing has been random or erratic. There has to be some reason why he chose us. But I have no way to figure out why. I simply don't have enough information.

"Anyways," Arlyssa turns away from me, obviously taking my silence as acquiescence. "We don't have time to be discussing this. Maybe you two have forgotten, but we're stuck out in the middle of nowhere with no shelter and a limited supply of food. Shouldn't that be our priority?"

That's...actually a really good point. I don't know anything about surviving in the wilderness. And one glance at Vika is enough to tell me that she's probably never even left the city once in her life. That means what little knowledge our team possesses belongs solely to Arlyssa.

"What do you suggest?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Hard to say anything, considering we know squat about this whole playing field. Best thing we can do is scout around and look for landmarks."

"Wh-what about the other teams?" Vika looks to the trees, as if she suspects we'll be jumped right here and now.

"What about them?" Arlyssa waves her revolver around. "If they come for us, I'll just show them a little gunpowder and lead."

Vika flinches back. I understand her reaction. Dr. Black has made it abundantly clear that he wants us to kill each other, and has even supplied us with weapons to do so. But does that mean we have to automatically assume the worst of any people we encounter?

"What if the other teams have their own guns?" Vika asks.

Arlyssa shrugs. "Guess we'll find out. Now, enough hand-wringing. Let's move out!"

Arlyssa sets off into the pines and we have little choice but to follow. I lag behind the others, self-consciously rubbing my knife. I didn't tell the others this, but I'm actually pretty proficient with knives. I did a lot of the cooking in my family, and that has given me skills that I doubt most others possess. I could kill someone, if I wanted.

That thought makes me cold. I don't want to kill anyone.

To clear my head of these dark thoughts, I belatedly turn my attention to the forest. The pine trees are supremely tall, the lowest branches themselves rise even higher than my head can lift. Though most of the ground is covered with nettles, there are the occasional patches of grass. Wood sorrel flecks these patches and I spot a pair of hares scampering away.

"How adorable!" Vika gasps, the first smile crossing her face in what feels like a very long time.

"We could hunt those," Arlyssa muses. Predictably, Vika begins to protest. I let my attention drift away from the conversation and to the sky, where a pair of jays are screeching high up in the canopy of the trees. I remember learning in school that Jays are the scavengers of the bird world. Their cruel, corvid eyes are always on the lookout for a feathered meal. In the winter, they raid squirrel stores for their nuts, often damning them to starvation.

As the birds drift away, I can't help but wonder if there is a similar situation between us and the other teams.

The forest continues on. I spot more signs of wildlife other than the hares and jays. Butterflies, squirrels, and what I think is a deer. I can't be sure, though, because I only see it from a distance and it bounds away immediately.

Yet I see no signs of other humans. Nothing. Where could they be? Surely this area isn't big enough to hide them all. But then, I don't really know how big this "playing field" really is. Does it stretch on for miles? Or is it just a small parcel of land? I don't have enough information; I don't have nearly enough.

"Oh! Look at that!"

I snap out of my thoughts at the sound of Vika's voice. I whirl around to follow her gaze and find, nestled between two particularly large pines, a small disheveled house. Well, calling it a house is generous. It doesn't look like anything more than a shack, and a poorly built one at that.

"Do you think the other teams are inside?" Vika steps closer to me, face paling with sudden fear.

"Only one way to find out!" Arlyssa says. Though she sounds carefree, I can't help but notice how her grip tightens on the gun. Nevertheless, she strides towards the shack without even a backward glance.

Vika and I follow after only a moment's hesitation. I don't think anyone is inside; if they were, they'd have come out by now, since we've been making way too much noise.

Arlyssa swings the door open and disappears inside. I follow suit and immediately blink as a cloud of dust swirls around my face. "Ugh! How old is this place?" I stumble forward and nearly collide with a wall until I catch myself on a small table.

Arlyssa gives me a withering glance. "Try not to break anything, Hayle."

I ignore her jibe and examine the room. True to its appearance, there's really not much to look at. Besides for the aforementioned table the only things of any note are a series of cabinets set against the far wall, a fireplace, and a sleek plastic box. I frown when I see the box. Unlike everything else, this isn't coated with a thin layer of dirt. In fact, it looks like it was placed here recently.

"What's up with this?" I tap its lid.

"Oh my!" Vika appears over my shoulder, peering down at the box. "It has a funny little logo on it!"

She's right. There's some kind of strange symbol engraved on the lid, with a word underneath. The symbol looks like an inverted cross set against a crescent moon and the word inscribed underneath is "Tarot". "What the hell does this mean?"

Ignoring us, Arlyssa reaches over and flips open the lid. There's a small note attached to the top part, which she immediately reads. "Congratulations, you have found a supply box. The items inside are now yours to do with as you please." She pauses, one hand on her hip. "Huh. Guess we got lucky."

"Still, what's with the symbol?" I find myself enthralled with the mystery. What could its purpose be? My allies, however, only care for what is inside the box.

"Bug spray?" Vika hesitantly pulls out a small canister. "Why would we need this?"

Arlyssa snags the rest of the items, which just seem to be a roll of bandages and a sewing kit. I turn away. None of this matters. Not to me. I only care about getting out of here, escaping this place before I have to play another one of those twisted games. The voice on the phone comes back to. Go along for now.

Why? What would be the purpose? And can I even trust that voice, or is it just another one of Dr. Black's games?

As Vika and Arlyssa discuss our next move, I turn to gaze out at the sky. I feel my panic beginning to abate...and in its place, my despair grows.

Hannah Jackson (Zeta Team)
''Water roared in my ears as the faint light of the surface disappeared from sight. The water dragged me down, down past the surfboard that was my only salvation. My lungs screamed for air and I resisted the urge to suck down water, clamping my jaws shut tight.''

I am going to die. The thought swept unbidden across my mind. I am going to drown here, in this ocean. Why didn't I listen? Mom, Dad, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything.

''My head swam and blackness pressed in on the edge of my consciousness. I frantically pushed upward, praying that I would find the surface. Too late. The darkness closed in, and I knew that my death had come.''

Except it hadn't.

Somehow I had survived. Eyes blinking open, body sore with exhaustion, I found myself lying on an unfamiliar bed. I thought that I was in a hospital, that someone had found and rescued me. Well, the found part was true.

But I wasn't rescued. Far from it.

Keep calm. Just keep calm, Hannah. Panicking will solve nothing. I need to stay calm and think about this rationally. My life is at stake. That, if nothing else, is absolutely certain.

Life has just been one bad mistake after another. I should have listened to my parents. I shouldn't have ran away. I shouldn't have gone out surfing. Not during the storm. If only I hadn't, then I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be trapped inside some bunker where a maniac makes people kill each other.

Perhaps surprisingly the emotion that I feel strongest is anger. How dare Dr. Black do this! What does he hope to gain from such pointless, obscene activities? Murder. I wouldn't have thought it possible. I would never have expected that his captives would turn on each other so quickly.

Through our bracelets, Dr. Black showed us the "game" that Alpha and Beta team played. He showed us just how quickly humans will turn on one another. They didn't even hesitate before deciding to kill someone.

Would I?

I have no answer as I sit here on a sofa, staring at a blank screen. Beside me stand two other girls--my fellow Zeta Team allies, Dr. Black called them--who seem equally as despondent. I don't know them very well; neither has said much so far.

One of them, a tan girl with long brown hair that cascades down to her waist in waves, taps her feet as she stares out at the newly opened tunnel. It opened several minutes ago, but we still have made no effort to explore it.

"Are we just going to wait around?" I finally break the long silence, standing up and moving towards the tunnel before stopping halfway. "I mean, there's no point just sitting here!"

My other teammate, a tall, athletic black girl named Francesca, steps forward. "You're right. We have to explore whether we want to or not." I nod encouragingly at the girl. Truth be told, I was initially frightened of her. Her being so tall was off-putting enough, but she also has these strange colorless patches on her skin. I figure she must have some sort of disease, but I don't think it would be very polite to ask. I just hope it isn't contagious.

"Exploring will just be playing right into Dr. Black's hands, you know." My first teammate scowls at the two of us. Though she has categorically refused to answer our questions about anything, she has told us that her name is Sofia.

"So what do you want us to do?" I ask. "Just sit here and wait? What will that accomplish?"

"Better that than die in one of his stupid games!" She retorts.

"It's not like staying here will prevent that," Francesca says, "after all, that Ophrya girl still died even though she never left her room." Smart. Despite my initial doubts, I think that I might grow to like Francesca.

That is if I don't die first.

Sofia stares silently at Francesca, eyes cold and hard. Francesca only smiles back. I fidget, unable to stand still. I do not like this. I don't trust either of these girls, but I'm supposed to work with them? How the hell am I going to do that?

"You know what?" I shake my head and turn to the tunnel. "Stay here if you want or come with me. It doesn't matter. I don't care what you do."

I head off, not waiting for an answer. I don't care what Dr. Black says, I'm not going to work with people who clearly want nothing to do with me. But then...

I don't care what you say! Words said to my parents flash through my mind. This is my life and I'll do what I want with it!

Mistake. That was a mistake. I always think that I know best, that I'll always come out unscathed. But that wasn't true with the surfing, and it doesn't seem like it'll be true here. I may not understand what this is all about or what Dr. Black hopes to achieve, but I don't like my odds of surviving this alone.

I'm halfway down the tunnel when I pull to a halt. Unsure, I'm about to turn around when Francesca steps past me. "Getting cold feet?" She grins at me.

I shake my head. "No, I was just..." Just what? Regretting my hotheaded actions?

Francesca's eyes soften. "Look, I get it. None of us knows anything about each other. We've all just been thrown into a vicious, awful situation and emotions are bound to bubble over. I don't blame you for snapping at us."

A sense of guilt washes over me for my early thoughts about Francesca. "Thanks," I mutter.

"Stop this pity party; it's not helping anybody." Sofia brushes past us, not even slowing down on her way through the tunnel.

I pick up the pace and push ahead, quickly re-passing Sofia. She gives me a sideways glance but doesn't say anything. Smart. There's only so many cynical comments I can take before snapping.

But perhaps that's our problem, mine and hers. Despite being together for what has to have been hours, neither of us have really bothered to try and get to know the other. Francesca tried at the beginning, but I was too flustered and dismayed by our situation to respond. But now that I'm beginning to settle in...maybe we should try again?

As I'm thinking, the tunnel comes to an end, opening up into a wide, rectangular room. A pair of heavy-set doors lie directly across from me, while a narrow table is pressed against the left wall. The right wall is bare except for a more ordinary door.

Sofia steps into the room, eyes quickly scanning its contents. "What's with the doors?"

I shrug. "No idea." They seem to be very large. Why? What would be the purpose of such ridiculously sized doors?

"Those bags seem interesting!" Francesca walks over to the table and grabs what appears to be a note. "Huh. Apparently these contain supplies for us."

An awkward silence follows as we all share glances. Supplies? For what? I'm about to ask, but then remember my earlier thoughts. "We can't keep going like this!" Both girls turn to look at me, surprised. "We can't just keep walking on eggshells, acting like we don't need to talk to each other. We do. Dr. Black has made it very clear that this will be a team game."

"What do you expect from us?" Sofia glares at me. "I don't know anything about you! For all I know, you could be working for that bastardo!"

"Do you really think that?" Francesca sounds surprised. "Why would we do such a thing?"

Sofia throws her hands in the air. "I don't know! No sé nada de ustedes, estúpidos americanos!"

"Huh?" I blink, confused. "What was that last part?"

"She spoke Spanish," Francesca says. "I believe she called us "stupid Americans"."

I let out a low chuckle. "Joke's on her; I'm no American, I'm an Aussie."

"Interesting." Fransceca watches me closely, stroking her chin. I squirm, uncomfortable with her gaze. What's so interesting? Francesca shifts her eyes to our other teammate. "Do you mind if I ask where you're from, Sofia?"

The girl mutters something under her breath. "Mexico City," she says after a brief pause. "Why? It doesn't matter." Huh. I had assumed that she and Francesca were both Americans. Though the fact that she's not explains her accent; English is clearly not her first language.

"So we're all from different countries," Francesca continues, oblivious to Sofia's disdain. "And that is very interesting, because it implies that Dr. Black has the resources and manpower to kidnap people from totally different countries. Such an endeavor would require quite the operation. He is, in short, not acting alone."

I hadn't thought about that. If what Francesca says is true, then Dr. Black can't just be a lone psychopath. He has to have funding, resources, allies. Somebody, someone with money and influence, has to be helping him. But that...doesn't make any sense.

"That doesn't change our situation," Sofia says.

"No, it does not. But it is something worth thinking about." She pauses for a short moment, then turns to me. "Now, I believe Hannah's earlier suggestion has merit. We will never grow to trust one another if we don't know anything about each other. So, let me begin."

"I, as you can most likely see, suffer from Vitiligo. I don't blame you if you've never heard about it; it is woefully neglected by many people. Vitiligo is a long-term skin condition characterized by patches of the skin losing their pigment." She goes on to explain how she's been stigmatized and bullied for this condition, but has since grown to embrace it rather than hate it. Francesca tells us that, prior to her awakening here, she was living with her mother and carving out a living for herself by modelling as well as selling her own art.

It's a beautiful story, but unfortunately the biggest impact is that it just makes me feel even worse for unfairly judging her earlier. Still, it does the trick. I feel like I can relate to her better.

"I lived with my parents," I begin once Francesca finishes, "and I was a surfer..."

I tell the whole tale, not omitting anything. There's no point trying to hide my actions, even if they were reckless and irresponsible. No, especially because they were. These girls may need to put their lives in my hands; they deserve to know the truth.

When I finish, there is silence. Francesca and I turn to Sofia, expectant. But when she sees us watching she just laughs. "What? You think I will tell you my life story? No gracias, amigos. I will tell you nothing."

"Perhaps that is too much to ask," Francesca inclines her head. "But thank you for sharing, Hannah. You can only understand what you know, after all."

I nod, but don't take my eyes off Sofia. She's clearly not use to relying on other people, which I usually wouldn't mind. But in this situation? She better shape up fast, or I might just beat the hell out of her.

Francesca grabs one of the bags off the table and, hefting it over her shoulder, grunts. "This is surprisingly heavy. What's inside?"

I shrug. "Dunno. But what about that bag? There seems to be some sort of handle sticking out..." I trail off as I reach over and remove the object. I feel myself paling as I stare at it.

"What's wrong?" Francesca frowns at me. "It's just a baseball bat."

"He knows!" I whisper, gaze glued to the bat. "He knows!"

"Knows what?" Sofia narrows her eyes.

"I..." I set the bat down on the table, surprised to find myself trembling. "I used to play baseball. I was one of the best hitters on my team. Receiving this bat...no way is that a coincidence!" But that was years ago! Did he really dig up that much information about me? If knows this...

What else does Dr. Black know about us?

"Do you really think he purposely gave you that bat?" Francesca sounds doubtful as she picks the bat up. She runs one oddly-colored hand along its length. "What would be the point?"

"Because he wants us to know that he knows!" I should have realized this sooner. This wasn't some random kidnapping, Dr. Black didn't just choose us on a whim. I wouldn't have been chosen if it was random. I was drowning, dying, then...

Dr. Black captured me. He had to have been watching, had to have known. For how long? When did he start? Looking at my allies faces, I see that they too have begun to think this over.

"Más vale que ese bastardo no toque a mi madre!" Sofia shouts something in rapid Spanish.

Francesca sets a finger against her forehead, apparently deep in thought. For a long time she says nothing. Then she shakes her head. "This is deeply troubling, I admit. But we can't waste time worrying about it. What's done is done, and we only have time to focus on the present."

Yeah, no. I can't just forget about something because its not currently relevant. That's not how I work. I'm about to say as such when Francesca pulls something out of her bag. It's long, slender, and metal.

"A crowbar?" I frown as Francesca turns the item over in her hands. She gives it a test swing through the air.

"I believe...that Dr. Black intends for these to be our weapons..."

I stare blankly at the girl. "You mean...he wants us to bludgeon people to death?"

"I cannot be sure, but yes, I believe that is exactly what he wants us to do." If there was any doubt before, there's certainly none now. Dr. Black is insane. Completely and utterly insane.

"Zeta Team, may I have your attention please!"

I yelp as Dr. Black's voice emits from my bracelet. Francesca looks at me, raising an eyebrow. I feel myself flushing as I avert my gaze, turning to the bracelet screen. "What do you want?"

Dr. Black, still in the exact same room as before, chuckles softly. "My! What unwarranted aggression! Trust me, dear Hannah, when I tell you that I am not your enemy."

"An obvious lie!" Sofia huffs.

"Believe what you wish, Ms. Cortes. However, that is not why I have chosen to speak with you. No, I am here to tell you that the time has come for you three to play one of my games."

Everyone goes still. There's a sudden chill in the room as we all turn to look at one another. We all know what happened in the last "game" of his. Someone lost their life. Had it forcibly taken away from them by this heinous man.

Will one of us be next?

"What is this game?" Francesca is the first to speak, her composure recovered remarkably quickly. "And how do we play it?"

"You will find the answers you seek in the next room."

Then, as if on cue, the small door to our right slides open. I lean sideways, peering inside. The portion I can see is thin and narrow, with only two chairs inside. Past those, I can see what looks to be panes of glass. Encased behind these panes seem to be majority of the room.

Sofia and Francesca both enter without a word. Hands slick with sweat, I readjust my grip on the baseball bat, then grab my bag and sling it over my shoulder. Finally, I follow my teammates inside.

The door slides shut behind us.

"He has locked us inside," Francesca says calmly.

"Predictable," I mutter. I knew this would happen, but its not like I had a choice. We either follow Dr. Black's instructions or die.

Sofia taps the glass, looking inside. "Is that...a bomb?"

"What?" I spin around so fast that my head nearly falls off. Inside the glass, situated smack dab in the center of the room, is a large spherical object. Completely black and crisscrossed with wires, there's a few small dials that occasionally emit a blinking red light. True to what Sofia said, it looks dangerously similar to a bomb. "A bomb! What the hell are you playing at?"

"I am not playing anything," Dr. Black answers, taking me by surprise. "You, however, will soon be playing a game I like to call "Are You Smart Enough To Exist?"

"What kind of name is that!"

"I hardly think that is what we should be worried about here, Hannah." Francesca frowns, tapping her cheek. She's so calm that I just want to punch her. Doesn't she realize our lives are on the line?

"The rules for the game are simple," Dr. Black continues, ignoring us. "One of you will have to answer a series of multiple choice questions. Get them all correct and your team wins. Get one wrong..."

"What," I ask, "happens if you get one wrong?"

"The bomb will explode."

Well, crap. Beside me, Sofia growls in rage whilst Francesca stands stoically still. I can't believe this! A bomb? A freaking bomb? Where the hell did this lunatic even find a bomb?

"You will all not be in danger, however," Dr. Black says. "Only one of you must answer the questions. The other two will merely observe from behind the explosion-proof glass." What? Explosion-proof glass? That doesn't even sound like a real thing!

"How will we decide who answers the questions?" Sofia demands. I can't help but notice how she glares at us.

"That will be up to you to decide. Be wary, however, for if none of you choose to take the risk and answer the questions then you lose by default, and all three of you will be injected with poison via your bracelet."

"I will not answer the questions!" Sofia makes her declaration before Dr. Black is even finished. I sigh, exchanging a look with Francesca.

"That leaves us. Do you want to do it?" Despite appearing calm on the outside, I'm internally screaming. I don't want to risk my life! And I don't even know what those questions are about! But if Francesca chooses not to answer, then I won't have a choice. The possibility of death is still far better than certain death.

"I will answer the questions!" Francesca steps towards the door without the slightest hesitation. Sofia nods in appreciation, but I can't help but feel nervous. If Francesca fails, then she dies. I may not have known her long, but I really don't want to see anyone else die today, no matter who they are.

"Very good, very good. It is always promising to see a young person step up to face a challenge!" Dr. Black intones as Francesca enters the glass room. The door slides shut immediately.

"Do you think she'll explode?" Sofia asks me.

I turn to face her, mortified by the lack of emotion in the question. "Aren't you worried?"

"Why would I be? I will not explode." She says it so matter-of-factly that I can't even think of a proper response. Perhaps there will be people who want to play Dr. Black's Games after all.

"Francesca, are you ready to begin?" Dr. Black's voice buzzes over our bracelets, followed by an echoy response from Francesca herself.

"Ready."

She certainly looks ready. Her face has a determined cast to it as she stares at the bomb without even the slightest sign of worry. I wonder why she decided to answer the questions. Is she just that confident, or was she worried that I'd refuse and we'd all be killed? I hope she doesn't think so little of me, but I can't say I'm certain of that.

Inside the glass room, a holographic screen flickers into existence. There's some text followed by a series of options. The question and the choices. Breath shaky with nerves, I read the question.

What is 20% of 240?

A clock immediately begins to countdown from ten. I begin to sweat, eyes glossing over as I stare at the four possible answers. Panic is getting the best of me, I realize. I'm about to fail, the clock is nearly--

"Forty-eight," Francesca says, tapping a button on the bomb.

"That is...correct." Dr. Black says as the countdown dissipates. "Prepare yourself for question number two."

The questions continue at a rapid pace. I try my best to keep up, but I find myself failing more often than not. Francesca, however, gets each one right every time. What is the capital of Colorado? Denver. What white, fluffy clouds are known as Fair Weather Clouds? Cumulus.

I don't know how she does it. With only ten seconds for the question to sink in before an answer becomes necessary--and the threat of explosion hanging over her head--she somehow manages to stay calm and rational. It's truly impressive.

Yet the questions seem endless. Francesca answers seventeen in a role and there's still no sign of stopping. Is there even an end? What if the game can only result in the bomb exploding? Would Dr. Black really be that cruel?

If you are facing north and turn Ninety-Degrees to the right, what direction are you now facing?

"East," Francesca answers. She sounds as calm as ever, but I can see a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

"That is...correct. Prepare for question number nineteen."

By definition, a prism is a solid figure that has how many congruent bases?

Sofia mutters something in Spanish as Francesca nods. "Two."

"That is...correct. Prepare for the final question."

Yes! Only one more to go! I find myself suddenly jubilant, a wide grin breaking out on my face. These questions are no match for Francesca!

What is my middle name?

The grin slips off my face. What kind of question is that? I feel like I've been punched, the glee deflating out of me like air from popped balloon. After nineteen questions pertaining to general knowledge, Dr. Black throws this at us? Not fair!

"Who?" Francesca whirls around, eyes wide. For the first time emotion has crept into her words. "Whose middle name am I supposed to be guessing!"

"You have ten seconds."

Sofia curses loudly. I can't do anything but stare at the four possible options, completely bewildered by their absurdity. Bergstein, Marshall, Centrifuge, or Oddsworth. How is anyone supposed to guess with such a lack of information? Whose middle name? Dr. Black's? The computers? Hell, it could be anyone.

The seconds continue to tick away. Francesca's eyes dart between the questions, obvious panic crossing her face. Her fingers twitch towards one of the buttons but pull away at the last moment. My heart nearly explodes.

"Two seconds."

"Choose, Francesca! You have to choose something! Anything!" I scream.

Her hand darts forward and taps a button. The hologram dissipates immediately. Dr. Black's voice echoes from our bracelets. "That is...incorrect. Prepare for punishment."

Sofia gasps. I scream. Francesca just stands there, dumbfounded.

The bomb explodes.

Inside the glass there is an explosion of red. Thick, dark liquid slamming into the glass, covering every inch of the clear surface. It is impossible to see anything but red. Red...red liquid...blood.

Francesca's blood.

I gag, dropping to my knees. Sofia lets loose a series of unintelligible curses, then screams at Dr. Black. My heart beats like a hammer. That didn't just happen. It couldn't have. People don't just explode like that...they don't... How could he do this? Why would Dr. Black want this to happen? It doesn't make sense. Francesca was a good person...why would he want to...

The door slides open. A figure emerges from inside the glass room, gasping as they bend over for air. They're completely covered in blood, absolutely drenched in the stuff. But I recognize her. Her figure is unmistakable.

"Francesca!"

The girl who I saw die turns to flash a smile at me. "Thought I was a goner."

"How...why..." There's no way she survived that explosion. All that blood...

"Por qué no estás muerto! This makes no sense!" Sofia exclaims.

"It wasn't a bomb. Well, it was a bomb. Just not the kind we thought." Francesca tries to wipe the blood away, but all she succeeds at is smearing it across her face. She frowns at the result.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's not blood," Francesca accepts a handkerchief Sofia offers her, using it to wipe her face. "It's ketchup. The bomb was filled with ketchup."

That...I stare at the red substance more carefully, examining its texture. True, it doesn't really look like blood. Nor does it smell like blood...

"He lied?" Sofia is furious. "Dr. Black lied to us! I knew we couldn't trust him!"

"I did not lie," Dr. Black's voice flickers back into existence and I look to see him on my bracelet. "I told you that the bomb would explode, which was completely true. I do not believe I told you a falsehood of any sort."

"Semantics!" Sofia begins to rant, but Francesca cuts her off.

"What was the point of this game?"

"What indeed..." Dr. Black chuckles. "Unfortunately, that information is not relevant to you. For now, you'd best return to the room where you claimed your bags. The Door of Beginnings is now open and you are free to enter the Playing Field. Fare thee well."

The screen fades black. The three of us stand in silence. Confused. Angry. Afraid. Uncertain. Dozens of emotions rage inside me, threatening to boil over into an explosion of emotion. But the emotion that I feel strongest...is regret

I should have listened to my parents. Why didn't I listen?

I'm sorry.

Nathaniel Arvidsson (Gamma Team)
I feel uneasy as I follow behind Timothy and Mike. They lead the way down a wide thoroughfare that runs between a series of small, colourful booths. In the distance, looming over everything, stands an enormous ferris wheel.

I have to admit, when I emerged from the underground tunnel where I woke up, the last place I expected to find myself was in a carnival.

"This looks remarkably normal," Timothy stops beside one of the booths, running a hand along its side. "I wonder whether Dr. Black created this himself, or if he just found an abandoned carnival to squat in."

I watch the small, unremarkable boy as he studies the nearby booths. Well, boy isn't the right word. He can't be much more than a few years younger than I am, but he carries the confidence and bravado of someone much older. His neatly styled brown hair, serious eyes, and the elaborate suit he wears all work together to create the image of a commanding leader.

And he's filled that role from almost the second we woke up. He was the one who spoke with Dr. Black, questioned the man, and answered the man's questions. He's essentially been acting as our teams mouthpiece.

Not that I mind. The thought of having to speak with Dr. Black by myself makes me feel...uncomfortable.

"Dude, do you think these games still work?" Mike shoulders his way past me, marching up to a small booth that holds several crane machines.

If Timothy is elegant, articulate, and composed, then Mike is...none of those things. Standing at least half a foot taller than my own height, he completely dwarfs Timothy. Standing side by side, the two of them make for a comical sight.

"Those games are always rigged anyways," Timothy muses as Mike jabs a meaty finger at the glass case.

"What? No way! I can beat them easily!"

I watch the two as they argue over the fairness of crane machines, wondering if either of them know the easy trick to beating them. You just have to set the machine to maintenance mode and you'll pretty much automatically win. Though I'm not sure why that's important, considering everything that has happened...

Waking up in that bunker was a true shock. I don't know how I got there or why Dr. Black needs me here. I don't remember what I was doing before I got here. I don't know what I'm supposed to do now that I'm here. There's so much that I don't know...

I don't want to die. I know that much. Death is not something I ever want to experience. I'll do whatever is necessary to avoid it. Anything.

"Do you think Dr. Black is telling the truth?" Timothy sits down on a nearby bench, unslinging the bag from his shoulder and dropping it at his feet. "Will we truly need to kill the other teams?"

Mike scratches his head, face scrunching up into a peculiar expression. "Dunno. But we have weapons, don't we?"

Weapons. Inside our supply bags, alongside the expected supplies, we also received one weapon each. In my own bag was an icepick. I feel nauseated when I think about how it's meant to be used, but...

I won't die.

"Yes, we do have weapons..." Timothy falls silent, hand twitching towards his jacket pocket, where I know he keeps his own weapon. It's a gun of some sort, something that I haven't really seen before. Timothy said that it was called a Desert Eagle, but didn't tell us anything more than that. I suppose it doesn't matter. A gun is deadly no matter what name it has.

"I could totally knock a guy unconscious with my weapon!" Mike, excited as he seems to always be, pulls up his own "weapon". It's some kind of strange, egg shaped ball. Mike said that it was a football, but it doesn't look anything like the footballs I've seen. It wasn't until Timothy explained that it was from American Football did I understand.

Not that I really understood at all. Mike was super eager to explain his sport to me, talking nonstop about how he plays it collegiately and was soon to head to the pros. Still, despite his explanations, the game doesn't make any sense to me. Apparently you barely kick the ball at all; instead you spend majority of the time throwing it around.

"Why do you call it football?" I asked Mike. "Why not handegg?"

His only response was to offer me a blank stare.

"I'd prefer if we didn't get into any fights," Timothy speaks, pulling me out of my thoughts. "We still need to get a lay of the land and understand exactly where we are before we do anything rash."

Mike shrugs his broad shoulders. "Whatever you say, bro. But if anyone attacks us I'm chucking this ball into their faces."

Suddenly nervous, I spin around to take in my surroundings. The ferris wheel still lurks in the distance, its bright, garish lights visible even in the early afternoon light. Popcorn is scattered across the thoroughfare, placed so evenly that I'm almost convinced someone purposely threw it down. The booths and tents that surround us are clustered close together, creating many tiny alleys and narrow passages. It wouldn't be too hard for someone to hide there. While we wouldn't be able to see them, they would be more than capable of seeing us.

I rub at my beard, wondering if I should tell the others about this possible danger. But I decide against it. Surely Timothy has already thought this very thing. And if he's not worried, why should I be?

"We'll need to find some food," Timothy says after a long period of silence. "And a source of fresh, clean water."

Mike frowns. "Why? Dr. Black gave us both of those things."

"That's true. But our supplies won't last forever, and I'd rather we find a a source of replenishment before we run out. It'd be too late by that point."

I find myself nodding along in agreement. Everything he said is completely true. Who knows how long we'll have to stay here? If we're not rescued soon, we could...will we even be rescued? Why would we? No one knows where we are or what happened to us. Where would they even begin looking? I don't even know what's happening!

"There seems to be plenty of food around," I'm ripped out of my depressing thoughts by Timothy's voice. The slight boy is walking towards a small square building. A sign above the doorway reads "Carnival Cafe".

"Why would there be food?" Mike asks. "This carnival is abandoned."

"Is it?"

Both of them turn to look at me. Suddenly nervous, I find myself staring at my shoes, averting their gaze.

"What do you mean, Nathaniel?" Timothy sounds genuinely curious.

"It's just that, well, this place is so..." I wave my arms around, searching for the right word. "Maintained! This place is too maintained!"

There's a long pause. Feeling like an idiot, I look up to take in their expressions. To my surprise they both seem to be examining their surroundings quite intently. "You're right..." Timothy says slowly, rotating in place. "Nothing is broken down, or even dirty. All the booths appear to be in pristine condition, and the Ferris wheel is still working. Odd. Very, very odd."

Mike scratches his head. "I, uh, don't understand. Are you guys saying it's not abandoned?"

Timothy shakes his head. "No, it's definitely abandoned. But the abandonment had to have happened recently. As Nathaniel said, this place is too well maintained. The popcorn on the ground hasn't even rotted yet."

I nod. That fact alone is very telling. I'm not an expert on the decomposition of food or anything, but it can't be too long before food that is exposed to the elements begins to rot. So the abandonment had to have happened in the last few days.

But the logic behind that doesn't quite add up. Why and when would this carnival be abandoned? How did Dr. Black get access to it? Why is there an underground bunker beneath it?

My team is uncharacteristically quiet as we try to think this over. Timothy stands very still, steepled hands pressed together and eyes shut tight. If anyone is to think up the answer, it's going to be him. I'm not good with these kinds of puzzles, and Mike...well, judging by the constipated look on his face, thinking probably isn't his strong point.

My eyes wander away from my teammates. I take in the ballon filled carnival, the colorful cotton candy stands, the Merry-Go-Round, and the signs pointing towards a House of Mirrors. This place is filled with games and treats, but danger seems to lurk in the shadows...

Is that supposed to be symbolic?

"Am I the only one who feels like we're being watched?"

Surprised by his voice, I whirl around to face Mike. His eyes are narrowed as he stares out at the space between two tents. "What do you mean?" I ask, despite knowing full well what he means.

"I...don't know. Just feels like I'm being watched." He shrugs his broad shoulders, turning away from the tents. I fidget uncomfortably. It does feel like we're being watched. But who would be watching us?

"Dr. Black undoubtedly has cameras watching our every move," Timothy says. He looks remarkably unaffected by the current circumstances. "So it is only natural that we would feel that way."

That answer is logical, but it somehow doesn't feel right. Yes, Dr. Black is watching us. But this sensation...it doesn't feel like him. It almost feels as if someone is here, inside the carnival, watching us from the shadows.

Another team? Or something even more sinister?

"Come along now," Timothy says, pushing the door of the cafe open and stepping inside. "We have to continue our search for food."

Mike and I follow him inside. But, as I step into the cafe, I cannot shake the feeling that someone is watching me. Watching...and waiting.

Junie Harlow (Epsilon Team)
I shade my eyes as the sun shines through the tree branches, the warm rays tingling on my skin. When we first emerged from the underground bunker the sky was dotted with a thin layer of clouds, but the sun has long since burned through that. Now we walk through the sunny forest, listening to the rustling of animals rooting in the underbrush, the crunching leaves underfoot, and groaning of the trees as mild wind blows through them.

This is far from my usual scene.

It feels like a lifetime ago that I was only hours away from the debut of my newest set. Now I'm stuck in some sort of forest with a pair of people I know nothing about. Lucky me.

"We seem to be heading west," I glance at the guy beside me as he stops to wipe the sweat from his bald head. Tall, muscular, and rather handsome, he's been an enigma since I first stepped out of my room. Though he was quick to challenge Dr. Black and demand our release, he's also been prone to bouts of inactivity. Several times he's simply stopped moving and stared off into the distance.

"We "seem" to be heading west?" I turn the other way to where my other "teammate", a girl named Milan, is giving Hayden a scathing look. "Are you sure or not? I don't want to follow someone who can't lead us straight."

I can't say I like Milan very much. She's tall and lean, with long black hair that hangs past her shoulders and eyes that shine with a hidden light. A light that seems to say "I wanna punch you in the face", yes, but a light all the same.

Looks aside, it's her personality that gets under my skin. She rarely speaks unless it's to correct one of us, and she seems more than willing to play Dr. Black's Games, even going as far as to ask Dr. Black for a better weapon, because she wouldn't be able to kill anyone with the chloroform she received.

Maybe playing the game is the smart thing to do, and sure, I myself will do whatever I need to do to stay alive, but the fact that she's so completely accepting of that fact is a little chilling.

Milan suddenly pulls to a halt, a frown etched on her face. Confused, I turn and follow her gaze to Hayden, whose once again stopped moving. His face is completely blank as he stares out at the line of trees that surround us on all sides.

"Are you alright?" I ask. Great. Both of these people are slightly unhinged. Whoopee.

Hayden doesn't answer. Perturbed, I reach a hand out to poke his shoulder.

His reaction is instantaneous. He grabs my wrist, twisting it savagely as he pins my arm up against my back. I yelp in pain, trying to jerk free. But he's so strong! Fear and anger race through me as I try to angle my leg to kick him between the legs.

"Hayden!"

The pressure on my wrist releases and I find myself stumbling forward. Furious, I spin around to scream at the bull-headed idiot when I see something that stops me cold.

Hayden is crying.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you!" He mumbles, wiping at his eyes. "You just surprised me. I...I thought I was being attacked..."

I stare at him, completely lost for words. He's already cracked? I know that the pressure of this situation is extreme, but for him to fall to the stress this early...I have some serious misgivings about our teams chances of surviving this game.

"It's fine," Milan says, "Junie forgives you. Don't you, Junie?"

What's happened with her? A moment ago she was all ice and scowls, now she's watching Hayden with what can only be sympathy. What gives?

"I'm sorry, Junie," Hayden takes a deep breath, composure seemingly returned. "It won't happen again. You have my word."

"Uh...okay?"

He nods at me, then turns away, mumbling to himself. "This is punishment...the torture...I knew it was wrong..."

"I have seen men like him," Milan is whispering into my ear. "Men who have seen or done things that affect them so profoundly that they do not always act as they should. He means you no ill will. Do not hold it against him."

Then she's gone, striding off into the forest like she actually knows where she's going. I just find myself rooted to the spot. In the last few minutes alone everything I thought I knew about Hayden and Milan got turned on its head. Understanding people is hard.

DJing is so much frickin' simpler.

Our journey through the forest continues in silence. As we go I catch Milan watching me. That unsettles me. Her gaze penetrates too deep, her eyes too knowing. Just what is she? Why is she so...accustomed to the inanity of this whole situation? She doesn't seem frightened or worried about being attacked at all. But...

The forest clearly does unsettle her. Every now and then, when she is not watching me or Hayden, I find her staring at the trees and animals. She acts as if she's never been in a forest before. Which isn't too odd, because it's not like I've been in a forest before either. I'm not worried about that, though. I'm too busy being worried about the other teams and their weapons.

I glance over my shoulder at my bag, where I have stored the hand axe I received with my supplies. An axe. That psycho Dr. Black wants me to hack people to death with an axe. You'd think that if he really wanted us to kill each other he'd have given us more effective weapons.

I eye Hayden and the crossbow he has strapped over his shoulder. Sleek, with a modern design, I suppose that the weapon seems more than capable of ending somebody's life with one well placed shot. Especially with Hayden as its wielder.

Which is why I'm so worried about his mental stability. What would stop him from killing me? Whose to say that Dr. Black would care if a team turned on itself? He never said there were any rules against it.

"Hold!" Milan comes to a sudden halt, throwing a hand back to stop Hayden. As he begins to protest, she points through the thick bracken. "There! Something metallic!"

I edge up beside them, peering through at the object. Rotund, with a wide base and a long, narrow section attached to the top, it looks like a....

"A gun turret..." Hayden's voice is barely more than a whisper.

"You recognize that thing?" I've already let my attention drift past to what lies behind the object; a series of long, wide buildings. Warehouses?

"Yeah. I saw a few before--"

"I smell the sea!" Milan cuts Hayden off mid-sentence. The girl throws her head around, seemingly searching for the ocean in the middle of the forest.

"You think we're on an island?" I ask.

"If we're in the Philippines, then everywhere is an island," Milan answers. I frown. Philippines? Why would we be in the Philippines? I figured we'd be in England, or at least somewhere nearby. But that might just be my bias. After all, Dr. Black spoke without an English accent. He sounded more American than anything else.

"Guys!"

I blink, surprised to hear the urgency in Hayden's voice. "What's up?" I ask him. He's still staring out at the gun turret.

"Shouldn't we be more worried about that?"

"I don't know. Should we?" I'm not an expert on guns or anything remotely similar, but I do know that there's no reason to be worried about a single stationery gun. They can't shoot themselves, after all.

"It could be an automatic drone," Hayden continues, eyes still fixated on the turret. "Dr. Black might be able to remotely control it, or it could just operate on its own."

"Wait, really?"

"Yes. I saw a few during...during my time in the army." Hayden goes silent. I wait for him to say more, but it soon becomes clear that he's not going to speak any further. I turn to ask Milan when I realize that she's no longer beside me.

"There are docks over there!" Milan has pushed into the clearing, walking towards the warehouses and the turrets. "It looks like a little harbor. No boats, though..."

"Wait!" Hayden shoves his way past me, heading for Milan. "Don't go any further!"

There's a whirring, buzzing sound and I spin around to see the turret moving, the nose of its gun rotating 360 degrees to face Milan and Hayden. I see what's happening. I react instantly.

I break into a sprint, not to help Milan, like Hayden is doing, but to cover. To protection. The warehouses.

Gunfire breaks the quiet peace of the forest. Smoke billows from the turret as it works. Hayden tackles Milan to the ground a moment before the first bullets slice through the air they were standing only seconds ago.

I'm already halfway across the clearing to the warehouses. The cargo bay door is open. But why did I run this way? A small part of my mind berates me for not running deeper into the forest when I hear Milan scream.

I throw a glance over my shoulder. Has she been hit? No. She's unharmed as Hayden drags her towards the warehouse. But her gaze is frozen on me.

Why me?

The gun turret has stopped firing. As I watch, it rotates away from Milan and Hayden. Its barrel doesn't come to a halt until it's turned halfway around.

To focus on me.

My breath rasps. My heart rattles against my chest. For some reason I feel myself slowing down instead of speeding up. Panic clutches at my brain, freezing all thoughts. I lurch myself forward and dive for the warehouse doors.

The gun fires.

Then there's burning pain.

I slam shoulder first into hard cement floor. Scream as I feel my shoulder dislocate. But the worst pain is in my leg. As I roll across the ground of the warehouse, out of the turrets reach, I look down to see my bloodied left leg. I've been shot!

I'm hyperventilating when Hayden emerges from deeper inside the warehouse, depositing Milan on a nearby crate. Where did he come from?

"Let me look at that!" He drops beside me, deft hands already opening the bag at his side. "I know how to treat this. I know...I know.." His eyes squeeze shut. His arms tremble. What the hell is he doing? What...

"No! I need to focus!" Hayden shakes his head. "Let me look at that." He studies my leg. "Okay. That's fine. It doesn't look so bad. The bullet passed all the way through. I can treat this..."

Hayden takes out the medkit that had been included in our supplies, sorting the objects into neat piles. Milan watches from the shadows, impassive. I'm just surprised that I now feel so numb. Have I gone into shock?

The gunfire has stopped. At first I don't understand, but then I realize it's because the turret cannot shoot at us while we're inside. Or maybe it just doesn't want to. Either way, it doesn't matter. We're...safe.

For now.

Karne Osmont (Omega Team)
My footsteps echo along the desolate hallways of the school. Yes, it is a school that I find myself in. A primal and run down version of a school, but a school all the same.

Most of the lockers that line the hallway walls are dented, and a few are just barely hanging on by their hinges. Each one looks seconds away from clattering to the cracked linoleum floor. Trash is littered all over said floor, while the walls are covered in graffiti. The very air itself is not exempt from this pervasive rot; a strong, musty scent lingers in the air, burning my nostrils.

"What is the purpose of this place?" I ask no-one in particular as I walk. I pass by a faded banner. Suppose that it must once have proclaimed the school's name. Now it's just trash. "Is this supposed to be our arena?"

"I won't die!" A shrill shriek escapes the lips of the girl to my right. I barely pay her any attention; she's been spewing that same nonsense from the moment this game started. "I won't, I won't, I won't! I'll kill them if I have to! I swear I will!"

Slim, with long brown hair and a pair of thick eyebrows, the girl isn't much to look at. She called herself Evie, but I really couldn't care less what her name is. Not when she keeps acting like a total idiot.

Is she really supposed to be my teammate? She's such a fragile thing. Already her mind has begun to slip and the game has barely even begun. But perhaps that itself is part of the game. Maybe my "teammates" are actually working against me. Deathbattles have never had such twists before, but then again, this Deathbattle is obviously different from all the rest. There's no crowd, for one thing. And the rules are clearly more elaborate...

Who is Dr. Black? Is he associated with Dustin? Is he Dustin himself? God, I hope so. The thought of snapping that snakes neck is the only thing that keeps me going. I'll win this game, then come and find him. I'll murder that punk and all his friends. I'll end Deathbattle once and for all! I'll...

How many times have I told myself this? How many times have I gone through these thoughts? A crippling wave of unease washes over me. Despite my bravado, I know that I am far from my goal.

Deathbattle is not so easily dismantled.

"Is this punishment? It must be punishment. But it was an accident! I didn't mean to!" Evie is still babbling, hands cradling the AK-47 she received as a weapon close to her chest. "He attacked me anyway! He deserved to die! I only did what was right!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I whirl around to face the girl. She yelps, shrinking away and hiding behind her gun. Sheesh. What a weakling. "What about you?" I glance at Nari, my other teammate. "Do you have any idea what she's going on about?"

Nari, a small asian girl with long black hair, only shakes her head. Figures. That girl hasn't said a word this whole time. It's annoying, but at least she's not screaming nonsense like Evie.

"He attacked me when I was coming home," Evie begins quietly. "I didn't know what to do. I had a knife, I panicked. I...killed him. I didn't mean to, but I did! I was only trying to defend myself!"

"Is that what's bothering you?" I chuckle softly, then continue my way down the hallway. No matter how far I go, the place looks the same; broken and rundown. "You shouldn't let that bother you," I add when I notice that both Evie and Nari are following me, "that bastard clearly deserved it. Why should you feel sorry for killing someone as awful as him?"

The images of the men I've killed flash through my head. There are dozens of them. All victims of Deathbattle. None of them deserved their death nearly as much as the man Evie killed did. But I still don't feel the slightest bit of regret at having killed them. It was them or me. And when my life is at stake, I'll kill whoever the hell I have to.

There's a long period of silence after that. Just the three of us walking. Occasionally I'll open a door and peek inside, but there's nothing to see but empty classrooms. This whole school is completely abandoned.

"I...I shouldn't feel bad about killing terrible people?" Evie speaks up just as I finish checking one such room.

I nod. "Why would you? Terrible people do terrible things. Killing them is just doing the world a favor." Dustin. The whole world will be better off when I end his miserable little life.

"But...what about the...other teams?"

"What about them?"

"Dr. Black said that...he said that they have to die for us to win. That we need to kill them. But what if they're not terrible people? How could we--"

"They're terrible people," I growl. No one who participates in a Deathbattle stays innocent. They might start out that way, but they don't stay innocent for long if they want to live. "Everyone here is a terrible person."

"Even you?" Evie's voice quavers. I stop and turn to look at her, eyes narrowed.

"Especially me."

I remember a time long ago. A small lonely boy sitting in a solitary room. He was a good person, he kept telling himself, a good person who was just trapped in a terrible situation and forced to do horrible deeds. But then the man came. He knelt beside the boy, laid a hand atop his head, and smiled. "You're not a good person, Karne," The man had told the boy. "A good person wouldn't have won that Deathbattle. A good person would have let the other boy kill him, so that he wouldn't have to bloody his own hands."

The boy looked up at that man. He saw the truth in his cold, empty eyes. Good people didn't survive terrible situations. All the good people died. The only ones who survived were the monsters. The monsters, and those that abandoned their own humanity, abandoned it so that they could someday kill the monsters.

"To rend one's enemies," I speak aloud, not to Evie or Nari, but to myself, "you must think of them as objects; not people. Hollow of meaning and soul."

The two girls watch me with silent gazes. Evie seems about to burst into hysterics. Nari, however, seems to be nodding her head. Does she understand what I'm saying? I honestly couldn't care less. She's nothing but a piece in this game Dr. Black is playing. A piece that I will gladly remove, if I am ever forced to.

"Hello?"

The voice freezes us all in our tracks. My head pivots around, eyes darting to find the source. That wasn't Evie or even Nari. It was a male's voice. That means it can only be one thing.

A member of another team.

The voice speaks again, but this time the words are unintelligible. By now it has become obvious that the speaker is directly ahead of us, somewhere behind the curve in the hallway. They haven't seen us yet, but once they round the corner...

Evie's breaths are hard and heavy. I glance at her, surprised to find her pointing the barrel of her AK-47 straight down the hallway. What does she think she's doing?

Faint footsteps echo against the floor. Then he arrives. Appearing around the corner at a brisk walk, the boy comes to a sudden halt when he spots us. Dark haired, slender, and Asian, the boy is clearly no one I've ever seen before. Recovering from his shock, the boy steps forward, holding a hand up, mouth opening to speak.

Evie starts shooting.

I scream out a curse as the hallway explodes with noise. Bullets zip down the hall, most of them smashing into lockers as Evie can barely hold the gun straight. But a few make it far enough to streak over the boy's head. With a scream loud enough to be heard over the bullets, the boy darts back the way he came, disappearing from sight.

Evie slowly lowers her gun.

"He was going to kill us!" Her face glistens with sweat and her arms shake so badly that the gun is rattling in her hands. "He was going to throw a weapon!"

I have no idea what the hell she's talking about. That kid clearly didn't have a weapon, nor did he seem intent to do us any harm.

"But I won't let him kill us! No, I won't let him kill anyone!" Evie takes a few tentative steps then, before I can do anything but watch, she breaks into a full-on sprint. Completely bewildered, I stand helpless as she rounds the same corner as the boy and disappears from sight just as he did.

Several long seconds pass before I turn to Nari, whose expressionless face is a welcome sight from the bat-shit crazy I just experienced. "You going to follow her?" I ask.

Nari shakes her head.

"Smart girl. Now, let's get out of here before something else stupid happens."

Satoshi Nakazawa (Kappa Team)
Hell. What the hell just happened? That couldn't have happened, no way. Why would she shoot me? What the hell! What does she think she's doing, shooting at someone like that? I mean, what the hell!

My feet pound against the linoleum floor as I sprint through the halls of this desolate school, retracing my steps. I knew I heard someone. I knew it! I was doing just as we had agreed, scouting the area, when I heard their voices. I knew they were another team, but I thought that I could speak with them, try to understand what was happening to us all. No way did I expect them to shoot at me!

I whip around another corner, taking it so fast that I nearly smash into the opposite wall. But I don't dare stop. Who knows if that crazy girl is chasing me? I can't take any chances. She was trying to kill me!

It takes only moments before I'm barreling down familiar hallways. This was where me and my teammates, two black girls named Zantae and Nailah, agreed to split up and search the area. I would never have agreed if I'd known that there was a crazy girl on the loose.

"Zantae! Nailah!" I shout their names as I pull to a halt. My chest heaves with each breath and my side burns with exhaustion. "Help! There's a--"

A door to my left swings open. I yelp, spinning in fear. But I overreacted. Zantae steps out of the classroom, confusion spreading across her face. "Satoshi? What's wrong?"

Zantae is a young girl, probably about a year or two younger than myself. Despite this, she acts remarkably mature and is seemingly always calm. A little too calm, if you ask me.

"There's a girl with a gun!" I explode into explanation, waving my hands around for extra emphasis. "She tried to shoot me! We have to run! Now!" I expect Zantae to shout in alarm, or even just gasp. But she does none of that.

Instead she just stares at me.

"Aren't you worried?" I am bewildered by her lack of fear. "A girl is trying to kill us!"

Zantae sighs and shakes her head, long black braids rattling. "Satoshi, I don't speak Japanese."

Oh. Oh, right. In all my haste to warn my teammates I had completely forgotten that they didn't speak the same first language I did. Switching to English, Zantae's own language, I try again. "Dude! There's a girl with a gun! She shot at me and tried to kill me! We need to run. Now!"

This time Zantae reacts.

Her mouth drops open, her eyes widen, and she presses a hand to her forehead. "Oh my. That is...this is not good."

"That's the understatement of the century!" I can't help but think of how that girl might be getting closer and closer to us as we speak. We don't have time for this! "Where's Nailah?" I ask, looking around for my second teammate. That girl's like a ninja. If anyone can solve this situation, it's her.

"I don't know," Zantae glances over her shoulder, looking slightly worried. Still not worried enough, though. "I haven't seen her since we split up to scout."

Well, damn. I was really hoping that she'd get us out of this situation. After all, wasn't the weapon she was supplied with a gun? I wish I had one of those instead of a stupid grappling hook. What am I even supposed to do with that thing?

"We need to get moving," Zantae says suddenly. She takes off down the hallway at a brisk walk. "We need to get out of this school and away from that girl."

Now that's a plan I can get behind. Of course, it still has its flaws. Where is the exit? Does one even exist? Since waking up here we haven't seen a single glimpse of the outside. What if the school is all there is?

"You can't run from me! I won't let you harm anyone!"

A chill runs down my spine as that familiar voice echos down the hallway. Then she appears, rounding the corner. That girl. The one with the gun. Aw hell. She's still chasing me!

"Gotta go!" I break into a sprint, pushing past Zantae. The girl yelps in surprise but I don't look back. I have no desire to die. I'm halfway down the hall when the first bullet zips over my head. I yelp, diving sideways into an adjacent hall. A second later Zantae joins me.

"You weren't joking!" Her eyes are as wide as saucers. "She really is trying to kill us!"

"I told you!" I scramble to my feet and take off running. I'm fast. I know that much. I run faster than anyone I've ever met. But am I fast enough to outrun bullets? I'm going to guess no.

"Satoshi!" I've already gone through several hallways before I hear Zantae's scream. Crap! I had completely forgotten about her! I never even stopped to consider whether she'd be able to keep up with me.

I hover in place, mind torn. Do I go back and help her? Or do I keep running? Running is the safer choice, but I don't really like the thought of leaving Zantae to die. I don't know her, but still...What if she dies and I could have saved her?

Zantae's next words make up my mind for me. "Satoshi! I found the exit!"

I'm already running. Back the way I came, whipping past the broken lockers and abandoned posters. Where? Where is Zantae? I call out to her and she responds from somewhere down a hall to my left. I take the corner at full speed.

"Zantae!" I see her now. She's standing in a large empty lobby, back to me as she stares at a series of glass doors that look out into what seems to be a dilapidated courtyard.

"Satoshi!" She spins around. A wide smile begins to form on her face before morphing into a scream. "Behind you! Duck!"

I hit the floor just as I hear the crack of a gunshot. An agitated screech rises up behind me and I don't even need to turn around to know that the girl has returned. How the hell does she keep finding us? And why won't she give up!

"Quick! Satoshi, outside!" Zantae scrambles through the doors. I'm not far behind. The two of us nearly tumble down the cracked and battered stairs, bumbling downwards into the courtyard that is dominated by a statue of a man atop a horse.

"What now?" I scream, throwing my head around to examine my surroundings. Bizarrely enough, the school seems to be set smack dab in the center of a forest. Large, overgrown trees creep up to the edge of the courtyard, branches and vines snaking across the cobblestones. In a few years the forest will swallow the school as well.

Wait. Why am I thinking about this stupid forest when a crazy girl is hunting us down? I'm about to ask Zantae what we should do now when she grabs me by the arm and drags me towards the forest. We're about halfway to the treeline when gunshots crack the air.

"Stop running!" The girl has appeared on the courtyard stairs. Her hair is unbound and hanging wildly behind her head, looking like a demented halo. "The only reason to run is because you know you're evil!"

Yeah. Either that or we're afraid this nutjob will shoot us to death!

The girl fires several more shots, but we're so far away and she has such poor aim that I'm not even concerned about getting hit. I do, however, duck behind a tree as soon as possible. Better safe than dead.

Zantae tugs on my arm, trying to pull me deeper into the forest. But I see something that holds me in place. Emerging from the forest on the opposite side of the courtyard as us, a new figure joins the fray.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and bizarrely wearing what looks like a business suit, the newcomer marches straight towards the girl with the gun, seemingly unfazed by her weapon or demeanor. I can't make out much more from this distance, but I don't have to think hard about who he is; a member of another team.

I want to yell out at him, tell him to run away while he can. But then I see something that keeps me silent. In the newcomers right hand, just barely visible, is the unmistakable form of a handgun.

Aw, hell. Every team has guns but us!

The girl, the one who has been chasing Zantae and I this entire time, whips around to face the newcomer. No words are spoken. At least, none that I can hear. The girl raises her rifle, points it at the newcomer, then fires.

Nothing happens.

I gape in astonishment. Beside me, Zantae gasps. I don't understand what happened. Why isn't he dead? Apparently the girl herself is equally confused. She looks down at the gun, shakes it, and curses loudly.

The guy across from her shakes his head and says something I can't hear. Then he takes his handgun and aims it squarely at the girl's head.

A gunshot rings throughout the courtyard.

Shinji Nakazawa (Delta Team)
The bullet takes the girl between the forehead.

For several long seconds she remains standing upright, swaying back and forth. Then, with a suddeness that surprises me, she goes crashing to the ground.

Ryder lowers his gun, shaking his head. Beside me, Vjena swings her hunting rifle over her shoulder. "That was a nice shot," She mutters. "Wonder where he learned to shoot."

I feel sick. My stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. She died. I just saw someone die. No, even worse. I just let someone die. I knew what Ryder was planning on doing as he walked out into that courtyard. I knew what his goal was. But did I try to stop him? Did I do anything to try and save that girl?

No. I didn't.

Vjena stalks out towards Ryder, seemingly unconcerned about the girls death. Cold and cynical. That has been my assessment of her personality in the handful of hours I've known her, and nothing that has transpired in the last few moments has me questioning that assessment. In fact, she may be even more callous than I had thought.

Shaking my head, I step forward and try to follow her. My steps feel heavy and slow. My mind still doesn't feel like it's working properly; I'm not yet recovered from the shock of witnessing what I just did.

Vjena stops beside Ryder. His eyes are glazed over as he stares down at the girls corpse. "She was impure," His voice is soft and quiet, "so impure. She couldn't exist in this world. She didn't belong. I had to remove her. I had to."

Neither Vjena nor I respond. How could we? I try not to look at the girl, but I find myself unable to tear my gaze away. A small hole rests in the center of her forehead, blood seeping out and pooling on the cobblestone around her head. Already her hair is soaked in it.

"What happened to her teammates?" Vjena asks. Unlike Ryder and I, she isn't staring at the girl. She has her hunting rifle up as she scans the trees across from us.

Oh. Right. Her teammates. I force my eyes shut and take a deep breath. This girl...she was shooting at two people, wasn't she? And they ran out into the forest. Were they her teammates? Did she turn on her own allies?

"Should we hunt them down?"

My eyes snap open as I spin to stare at Vjena. "What!" My voice comes out as a strangled gasp. Did...did I hear her correctly? Hunt them down? To do what? Kill?

I find myself re-examining Vjena, wondering if my previous assessment holds any water. Appearance wise she is remarkable; long ebony hair, heart-shaped face, and uniquely dazzling blue eyes. There seems like there should be a softness to her, but it's hidden behind her severity and coldness.

"Why would we do that?" I finally force the words out.

"That is the point of this game, no?" She doesn't even glance at me as she responds. "Dr. Black made it very clear that the other teams must be eliminated for us to win. And I will win. There is no other acceptable result."

I understand the logic behind her words. Yes, Dr. Black is forcing us into a completely horrible situation that apparently only has one method of escaping, but to just do what he says without even trying to think of another avenue? Without thinking the situation over? We've barely had any time to comprehend our position. No more than a few hours have passed since we woke up in that bunker, but already Vjena and Ryder have full-heartedly committed themselves to this game. Ryder has even murdered someone. Just because a man dressed like a plague doctor told him to.

How messed up is that?

"We should try and think things through--" I begin but cut off when I notice Ryder walking over. He is a big guy, standing several inches over six feet and having a muscular physique to back it up. The well-tailored suit he wears only enhances the dangerous aura that hangs around him.

He stops a few feet from us, dark green eyes slowly taking us in. "Shinji," He says my name slowly, as if he's saying it for the first time and unsure if his pronunciation is correct. "Shinji. You care for those people?"

I feel uncomfortable under his gaze. As if his eyes are slowly dissecting me, learning my secrets. I watch his hands as they fiddle with the gun he used so readily to kill that girl. "Those people aren't your friends, Shinji." One finger strokes the barrel. "They're bad people. Scum. They pollute this world and harm those who wish to live peacefully. Do you know why they're in this game?"

I don't answer, because I don't know where he's going with this.

"Dr. Black knows what they are, Shinji. He knows what they really are. And so, he rounded them all up and put them here for one reason and one reason only." A small, sad smiles crosses his lips. "Do you know what that is?"

I shake my head.

"To be culled. Eliminated. Dr. Black knows that for a perfect, harmonious world to exist, the greedy and cruel need to be taken care of. And that is where I fit in. I will do what needs be done. I will eliminate the greedy, the corrupted, the evil. I will cleanse this world. I would like for you and Vjena to join me. Together...together we could alter the course of humanity."

Insane. This guy is completely and utterly insane. My skin crawls just listening to him. What kind of person thinks you can make the world a better place by killing everyone?

"It is an unfortunate task, to be sure," Ryder paces back and forth, seemingly unaware of my doubt, "but it is one that needs to be done regardless. You agree, don't you?"

It is clear that appeasing this man is in my best interests, so I merely nod. He in turn nods back and then steps forward until he is only a few inches from me. His eyes study my face. "Are you a good person, Shinji?"

I open my mouth, ready to tell him that of course I'm a good person. But then I catch myself. Something about his tone of voice, his posture, sends warning bells in my head. There's a catch to this question. A trick. But what is it?

Ryder's eyes narrow. Seconds tick away without any response from me. I feel my heart beat against my chest like a hammer. For a moment I think I am about to be shot. Then the answer pops into my mind.

"I don't know."

Ryder raises one eyebrow. "Oh? You don't?"

I shake my head. "No. I mean, I always strive to be a good person, but there's no way of knowing for sure. Not that it matters, not as long as I always do the right thing." I'm not nervous anymore. I know for a fact that I've answered correctly. When Ryder nods and backs off, it only reaffirms what I already knew.

A good person wouldn't say they were a good person. They would be too humble for that. But neither would they say they were bad. So the answer I gave, a non-answer, is the only acceptable solution. In fact, the more I think about it, I doubt that Ryder's question was even about me being a good person at all. No, it was a test meant to determine my interpolational intelligence.

And I passed.

"What about you, Vjena?" Ryder turns his attention to the dark-haired girl. "Are you a good person?"

"I honestly couldn't care less."

Before Ryder can respond a familiar noise cuts through the air. A faint, gentle chiming emits from the contraptions strapped to our wrists. I glance down to see a column of question marked covered faces next to a set of words, apparently team names. The screen automatically scrolls downwards, passing past mine, Vjena, and Ryder's faces. It stops near the bottom where, just above the crossed out face of the first dead girl, a new face receives a large red X.

"Ryder Locklear eliminated Evie Castillo with a pistol," A robotic voice chirps.

Evie. Her name was Evie. I have to force myself not to glance towards the girl's body. Somehow knowing her name makes everything ten times worse. I should never have stepped foot outside of that bunker. I should have stayed inside my room and hid under the bed. There's nothing out here but death.

"We should bury her," My own voice takes me by surprise. It sounds so hoarse and raw.

"Why waste the energy?" Ryder contemptuously nudges the girl with his foot.

"She'll soon rot," Vjena says.

"Good. That way her outside appearance will match her inner self."

"She'll smell too."

"Won't bother me. I don't intend to stick around here long enough for that."

I can't take this. The way these two can have such a calm conversation about another's death. Don't they care? Aren't they worried that the same thing could happen to them? Dr. Black said that there would be more games, games like the one that claimed the first girl, Ophrya's, life.

More death, then. But why? What is Dr. Black's purpose? What is the point of this sick, twisted experiment?

Ryder and Vjena are walking off towards the forest. I must have zoned out and missed the rest of their conversation. Though I do notice that Ryder has claimed Evie's bag and gun for himself.

Evie...

My eyes are drawn to the girl. Though she was shooting and trying to kill those other two people, I cannot feel anything but sympathy for her. In death she is so small and frail. "I'm sorry I can't bury you," I whisper into the air, "but I will at least try to ensure your death is avenged. Yours and Ophrya's."

Ophrya Grate and Evie Castillo. The first two deaths.

And surely not the last.

Fernanda Gutierrez (Lambda Team)
"Ryder Locklear eliminated Evie Castillo with a pistol."

The voice has me pulling to a sudden halt. A cold chill that has nothing to do with the weather runs down my spine. Someone...someone has killed another person? How...why...I shake my head, long dark curls bouncing against my shoulders. No, surely that is not what the voice meant. It must mean something else.

It must.

"What does that mean?" A small scared voice asks from my right. I don't have to turn around to know that it is Harry, the little blond boy whose been placed on my team. He is only twelve years old, proving that Dr. Black cares nothing for the concepts of mercy or restraint. "Did...did that girl...die?"

I don't know how to answer that. What am I supposed to tell this kid? I really don't care for trying to baby him, but admitting that people are running around murdering each other will probably do nothing but freak him out.

"Yes. She did."

I am saved from having to answer, it seems. My other teammate, lounging against a trellis and juggling three spherical objects, doesn't even bother looking at Harry as he speaks. Shintaro.

I don't know what to make of him. He has been nothing but aloof and uncaring this whole time. When I first stumbled out of that room I woke up in I found him calmly studying the books on a shelf. When I asked him what was going one he merely shrugged and told me that "We'll soon find out". Yes, he's an odd one.

"Oh." Harry goes uncharacteristically quiet. He too has been taking things remarkably well. In fact, up until this point he seems to have thought that this was all one big game.

"That's just life," Shintaro says. I glance at him. He's a young adult, standing somewhere at 5'8" when upright, with straight, dirty blonde hair, and mid-tone brown eyes, all complimenting a rather attractive face. Well, it would be attractive, if it wasn't attached to such an annoying person.

Fed up with these supposed "teammates" of mine, I turn my attention to the vineyard where we rest. Once, this must have been a beautiful place, well-loved by those who maintained it. Much like us however, it has clearly been abandoned to the wild. While most of the original vines seem to have flourished, growing so thick that they obscure the trellises entirely, sections of them have choked and died under the relentless advance of foreign plants and animals. Even so, this place remains a haven for grapes and whatever else grows here.

"What should we do?" I ask no one in particular. I feel so lost and forlorn. We've been here ever since those Doors of Beginnings opened. In fact, from where I stand I can still see the entrance to the bunker. We haven't gone more than a dozen paces from it.

Shintaro shrugs. "Don't know."

I stick my hands on my hips and fix him with my fiercest glare. I would scold him, but that would serve no purpose. No, it is clear that neither of my teammates possess any intelligence or initiative, so I will have to take the reins.

But before I can make any grand plans or sweeping proclamations I will have to understand our situation more thoroughly. Our location ia unknowable, so I can save that for later. But what about our supplies? Once more I peek into the bag I keep wrapped around my waist. First I note our provisions; several loafs of hardened bread, a few packets of dried fruit, and two canteens of water.

Not much. But I believe that Harry and Shintaro each have similar foodstuffs inside their own bags, so I don't have to worry about having to share with them. Our water situation, however, is worrisome. Two canteens won't last long, even if rationed. We'll need to find a sustainable source of replenishment if we hope to survive long.

I pause mid-inspection as a new thought occupies my mind. Just how long will we be here? Dr. Black has not set any sort of timetable or deadline. Will this last several days or just hours? And if it does last days, then certainly someone will have come to our rescue before the conclusion.

I force these thoughts away and go back to the matter at hand. Our supplies. I pick up the tiny vial I have hidden away inside a side pocket of my bag and stare at its yellow contents. The label on it simply reads "Poison". I do not know what it is for. There is certainly no way for me to actually get anyone to ingest this, so it is useless as a weapon. But I see no other purpose for it.

I tuck the vial away and rezip my bag. The only other item I received is no longer inside. Instead, it is firmly wrapped around my torso.

I was surprised when I first saw the black, utilitarian vest. I had thought it was merely some sort of fashion item, but then I saw the note attached. "Bulletproof Vest".

My first reaction was alarm. Why would we need a bulletproof vest? Were we going to be shot at? It was incredulous to think about, almost impossible. Dr. Black wouldn't allow us to have firearms; we would be too hard to control. At least, that is what I used to think.

Ryder Locklear eliminated Evie Castillo with a pistol

A pistol. That means people are running around with guns. Which means that this vest I had thought useless is actually invaluable.

The cry of a bird catches me by surprise. I look up, expecting to see some sort of attack, but all I see is Shintaro still lounging against that trellis juggling those balls. For some reason that annoys me.

"Can you stop that?" I snap at him. He looks up, surprised. Doesn't stop juggling, though. "Where did you even get the balls anyways? Your bag?"

"They're not balls."

"Then what, pray tell, are they?"

"Grenades."

I leap up with a squeal, feet scrabbling in the dirt as I throw myself away from Shintaro. As I stumble headfirst into a nearby vine patch, I hear him call to me. "They won't explode. Not unless I pull the pins."

Isn't that comforting? I resist the urge snark at him, however, and content myself with another glare. "Were they the weapon supplied in your bag?"

"Obviously."

I pull myself out of the vines and try to dust myself off as gracefully as I can. It's not an easy task, given the circumstances. "We'll need to make a plan of action," I say, ignoring his comment. "Food and water are a must, but water in particular will be crucial." Not that I have the faintest idea where we would begin our search. But I'm not about to admit that to Shintaro.

Shintaro doesn't look up from his juggling. "No need to worry. I can find us water."

"Oh, can you?" This time I cannot hold back the sarcasm. "Then please, just use your infinite wisdom and procure this water of yours!"

Shintaro nods, catches all three grenades with one hand and stuffs them into his bag before bounding to his feet. He gives me a quick glance before walking over to a nearby trellis, where he begins to feel at the vines.

"What are you doing?" I ask. He looks absolutely foolish, groping the plants like that. Just what does he think he'll accomplish?

"Patience." He continues along the trellis, hands following one vine in particular. Eventually he slips between a hedge, disappearing from sight. I follow him with an exasperated sigh.

"You know, I don't think you actually know what you're—" I cut off as I find Shintaro sitting cross-legged on a smooth stone. Behind him laps a bubbling creek filled with clear, fresh water.

"Done." Shintaro reaches back into his bag and retrieves the grenades. Within seconds he is juggling again.

Shintaro! That stupid, idiotic man! I find myself furious at him, though I am not certain why. His uncaring personality? His apparent skill? Neither of those should give me reason for anger; he is, after all, my ally. Shouldn't I be pleased he found us water?

No. He showed me up. He did what took me several dozen minutes to think up within seconds. Now he probably thinks he is better than I am. Probably thinks I am useless. Well, joke's on him! I'm the most useful member of this team! Infinitely more useful than him or Harry!

Wait. Harry!

I spin around, searching for the third member of our team. But I see him nowhere. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him since the death announcement. Where did he go? "Have you seen Harry?" I find myself asking Shintaro.

He nods. "Yes."

Irritation tugs at me. Why does he have to be so dense? "Where did you see him? And, more importantly, when did you last see him?"

"Not long after the announcement. He slipped away into the brush when you weren't looking."

"And you didn't say anything?"

He shrugs. "I didn't think it was important."

"Didn't think it was important? He's our teammate! What would we do if he died?"

Shinataro finally stops his juggling. He gives me a flat stare. "I don't know. What would we do? It's not like we know much about how this game is played. Dr. Black has explained remarkably little. I'm surprised that you have just accepted our situation so readily; I would've thought you'd panic."

Well, that shows what he knows! Why would I panic? This is certainly a stressful and unique situation, but panicking would do nothing but make things worse. No, I have to stay calm and analyze everything that happens. That way I'll know exactly what to do.

And what I should be doing is searching for Harry.

Without another word to Shintaro I stalk off into the brush. Vines tug at my arms as I go, but I shove my way through, calling out Harry's name. Where did he go? He can't have gone too far.

I spot a few greenhouses on my journey. Did Harry hide in one of those? I pause at the entrance to one and call inside. When I get no response I move on. Stupid boy. Who does he think he is, wandering off like this? Why did I get stuck with him and Shintaro as teammates? I don't know who else is here in this game, but they would certainly make for better teammates than the morons I received.

"Fern! Shintaro!"

Harry's shout takes me by surprise. For a moment I just stand still, startled. But then I take off at a sprint, following the sound of his voice. "Harry!" I shout as I run. "Where are you?"

"Here! I'm over here! Hurry! I found a big building!"

I'm more confused than worried now. A building? Here, inside the vineyard? I push my way through the last of a particularly overgrown patch of vines and stumble into a large meadow. The field is laden with goldenrod-yellow flowers and silver-washed fritillaries that carry their bushels of pollen carefully. A whirlwind of scents twirl above the petals and the pear sweet taste of the air hits me like an amvil. I pause, senses momentarily overwhelmed by the sudden beauty. Is that smell coming from those berries?

"Fern!" Harry's call snaps me back into my senses. I look around to see the small boy standing in the center of the meadow, waving vigorously at me. Behind him looms a large, circular building.

"What is that?" I ask, walking over. The building is slate gray and built like a dome. The material looks to be sheet metal but, unlike normal buildings, there is no visible seams or gaps. Just those smooth, interlocking plates, fitting together with intricate precision.

"Dunno. But it's cool, isn't?" Harry grins at me and I'm reminded of just how young he is.

"I suppose." I step up beside Harry, then gasp when I see what he is holding. A gun. A rifle, to be more precise. I stare at the weapon, astounded. Its receivers are apparently made of aluminum alloy, but its barrel, bolt, and its handguards, of plastics.

Harry notices my staring and his grin widens. "Awesome, isn't it? It's just like the Nerf gun my friend Tommy has. 'Course, his is much more colorful." When I don't respond his grin fades. "What's wrong? Oh, right. Girls don't like guns. My Mum hates them."

"Where did you get that?" I finally ask.

"My backpack."

Of course. This gun, much like my vial of poison and Shintaro's grenades, is Harry's assigned weapon. It was cruel luck that the weakest of us would wind up with the most valuable weapon.

"I can put it back, if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Yes. Do that." I'm already thinking of ways to get that gun away from him. A twelve year-old shouldn't possess such a weapon. And, more importantly, I don't trust anyone but myself with such a dangerous thing.

As Harry slips the rifle back into his bag, I return my focus to the building. Its presence is completely out of place here in this overgrown paradise. "What do you think it is?" I ask Harry.

"It's an Event Hub." I yelp as Shintaro appears behind me. He ignores my protestations, wide eyes focused solely on the building. "Dr. Black mentioned them earlier. It's where his games are played."

"How do you know?" Harry asks.

Shintaro points a slender finger at the base of the building where, when I look closer, I can just make out the form of a door. "There's words above it that say, "Event Hub". As for how I know what it is for...well, I already mentioned that Dr. Black spoke about their purpose."

"Did someone say my name?" I let out another yelp, this time much louder and more shrill, as the screen on my bracelet flickers to life. Dr. Black's masked face peers through it. "Yes. It does indeed appear that I was mentioned."

"Were you listening to us?" I demand.

"Why, yes, Ms. Gutierrez, I was. In fact, I can see and hear everything you do in the Playing Field."

Shintaro raises an eyebrow. "Everything?"

"I believe you heard me the first time, Sosune-san, so I will not repeat myself. Now, if you are quite done with the interruptions, I will give your team a little...let's say, early information." I don't point out how he was the one who interrupted us first.

"Are you all listening? Yes? Good. What you've found here is one of my Event Hubs. Event Hubs are dotted across the Playing Field and are normally locked. Periodically one will open up and I will instruct all teams to converge on the Hub. Only a limited amount of Teams are permitted inside. Once a sufficient amount of Teams have arrived, the Hub will close and the lucky team or teams will be required to play one of my games."

"You've said this before," Shintaro says. I frown. Has he?

"Very astute, Sosune-san. You will certainly be a Challenger to watch."

"Why would anyone want to play one of your games?" I interrupt. I'm thinking about the footage he showed us earlier, of Alpha and Beta team playing their game and what happened to that girl. "Someone wound up dead. Why the hell would we willingly sign up for that?"

"Because, if enough time passes without a team entering an open Event Hub, I will be forced to...take action." There's a brief pause as we all digest those ominous words. "I believe you all know what I refer to, but I will explain anyways to be thorough. If no one enters an Event Hub within the allotted time, I will kill each and every one of the Challengers."

I double over as if I've been punched. Kill everyone? I knew he was insane, knew that this was abnormal, but I never expected Dr. Black to go to such extremes. What would be the point of any of this if he just killed everyone?

"That is why it is in yours and every other teams best interest to access the Event Hubs when they are open. We would not want this game to end prematurely, would we?"

"You're insane!"

"The line between insanity and genius is very thin indeed. I cannot say which side I fall on, Ms. Gutierrez, but for the world's sake I hope it is the latter."

"Do we enter the Event Hub, then?" Shintaro is still calm, somehow. His demeanor hasn't even shifted an inch throughout this entire conversation. I don't know if that's amazing or terrifying.

"Oh, no. This Event Hub is still closed, you see. No, you will have to wait for a Hub to open before you can enter." There is silence as, on screen, Dr. Black turns away from the camera and begins to walk into the shadows. "Oh, one more thing before I go. The first Event Hub will open at midnight. I have not yet told the other teams this, so you have the advantage of information. What you do with it is up to you. Fare thee well, Lambda Team."

The screen clicks off.

Beside me, Shintaro closes his eyes. Harry lets out a strangled sob. "I don't think I like this game anymore!" His face has gone deathly pale and his eyes glisten with unshed tears.

"You and me both," I mutter. "You and me both."

Sofia Cortes (Zeta Team)
Hannah paces back and forth across the room, absentmindedly tapping her baseball bat against the floor as she goes. I do not trust her. I do not know her, so how could I trust her? What if she is in on this game? What if she is Dr. Black's acolyte? There is no way for me to know.

So I do not trust her.

The small room I currently occupy is just one of many. After making our way through Dr. Black's Door of Beginnings we found ourselves inside an old cellar. It did not take us long before we found our way out from there and into the building proper, which turned out be some sort of apartment complex. We have not done much exploring, despite being holed up here for hours. We are too worried about accidentally triggering another of Dr. Black's games.

I drum my fingers alongside the windowsill, staring out the large bay window at woods that lie in the distance. It is strange, this building. From what I can see through the windows, it appears to be set in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but wilderness. That is unnatural. Why would an apartment building be alone in the middle of nowhere?

I find myself drifting away from the window, unsettled by these thoughts. This room is almost identical to the others we've checked; light tan walls, dark hardwood floors, and furnished with a single bed, nightstand, and sturdy desk. A chest of drawers rest in an open closet, and another door leads into a white-tiled bathroom.

I set myself on the bed. Is this where I live now? I've faced this before; I'm used to starting over.

But can I do it again?

Now that the adrenaline and confusion has faded, the enormity of my loss threatens to crush me. I was on my way to the grocery store when I was kidnapped; I do not remember how it happened. The police will not know what has happened to me. Neither will Fernando. What will he think? That I ran away, abandoned him?

I take a shaky breath, trying to wrestle these emotions down before they overwhelm me. I will not grieve, will not give Dr. Black the satisfaction of knowing he has completely crushed me emotionally. I have to stay strong and keep fighting.

That is what Mother would have wanted.

The gun hidden in the holster strapped to my thigh suddenly weighs a ton. A Walther P99. I have not told Hannah or Francesca that I have it. They do not know that I have training in firearms, that I know how to shoot. What would they do if they found out? I do not know. So they mustn't find out.

"We should probably search the rest of the building," Francesca emerges from the bathroom. She has been busy washing the ketchup from her; the only trace left is the stains on her clothes. As usual, though, I cannot help but focus on her freakish height and unusual skin. Just because I know she has a disease doesn't mean I feel comfortable with her appearance.

Hannah stops her pacing and faces the other girl. "What's the point? What do you think we'll find?" Hannah is almost sculpted perfection, with her heart-shaped face, large, round blue eyes, and full lips expertly complementing her slim, toned body. I have never felt self-conscious about my own appearance, but Hannah makes me awfully close.

"The point is I don't know what we'll find," Francesca opens the door to the hallway and steps out, "so we need to go and see exactly what this "Playing Field" has in store for us."

I do not see why that is necessary. Dr. Black will come to us and give us directions whenever he feels like it. But Hannah heads off after her and I have little choice but to follow. Francesca leads us down the hallway where our rooms where located, back towards the central lobby full of bright and colorful couches. Corridors run down from the lobby like hours on a clock. Francesca swiftly goes down one of these and I follow, barely keeping my head straight.

This whole building looks the same to me. In the hours that we've been here, which cannot be more than three or four, we've checked several floors. Each one has been full of identical rooms and hallways, with nothing else inside. So what does Francesca hope to find?

After a few turns down some more similar looking corridors, Francesca leads us down a wider, more open hallway with stone floors and light pine woodwork. She stops beside a door at the end. "I believe this will take us outside."

"Outside? Why would we want to go outside?" I ask.

"Each floor in this building we've checked has been exactly the same, so it stands to reason that the whole building is identical. Thus, it would be worthless to individually check each room. However, we do not know what lies outside. Is it not worthwhile to check?"

No one has a response, so Francesca pushes the door open and steps outside. I follow, surprised to find myself in a courtyard of sorts. It's an enormous expanse, with paths set in stone that go through a grassy area in the center. Several small trees grow there, sitting alongside many topiaries cut into the shape of various animals. A large, elaborate fountain sits in the center of everything, gurgling softly as it spills its water out.

The large orange evening sun and glistening ivy gives the building that surrounds the courtyard a glossy glow. In the clipped hedges and pristine landscaping, not one blade of grass looks out of place.

"Dr. Black has a good gardener," Hannah quips.

I let my gaze drift past the building, towards the distance and what appears to be...the ocean? Yes, to the apartments south lies what can only be the ocean. Far out to sea and connected to our landmass by what appears to be a large bridge lies an island pulsing with garish lights.

I rotate in place, trying to see what else is around. As I noticed through the windows, a large forest grows in the west. But to the east lies barren moorland, occasionally dotted with a rolling hill.

"Huh." Francesca sets her hands on her hips as she surveys the area. "This...doesn't make sense. Any sense. At all."

"Yeah," Hannah scratches her head. "This is nuts. I mean, what's an apartment complex doing situated between a forest, an ocean, and some hills?"

"This is loco," I shake my head, dismayed. The temperate climate and the appearance of those trees is enough to tell me that this is not Mexico. But then where is it?

"Is that a carnival over there?" Hannah points out at the island. I squint, but cannot make out anything distinct. It's just a bunch of colors and lights.

"Looks like it," Franscesa frowns. I do not know what these two girls are thinking, but these current revelations do nothing but increase my fear. It has become more and more obvious that Dr. Black is stronger than we thought. The only reason he would let us out into such a wide open area is because he knows we cannot escape. Just what makes him so confident?

Lost in my thoughts, I don't notice that Francesca and Hannah have begun to approach the forest. Instantly I spring forward. "No! Are you two loco? Come back!"

"What is the matter?" The two seem confused as I approach, vigorously shaking my head.

"Where do you think you are going? It is almost night! Sun will set in a few hours, yes? No time for wandering." Once inside that forest we may never find our way back out. And I do not want to spend the night in the woods.

Hannah nods, seemingly seeing my reason. Francesca only frowns. "I have a tent, so we wouldn't be at too much a disadvantage..."

"No. I will not step foot into those woods. You two do as you please, but I will spend the night here." Here we have a roof and beds. Warmth and running water. Why throw that all away for a night in the woods?

Our conversation takes a few moments, but eventually they both agree that it would be better to spend the night at the apartments and save the exploring for tomorrow. By the time we head back inside, the sun is low in the sky. Nightfall cannot be more than an hour away.

And who knows what happens here after dark...