I breathed slowly—a desperate attempt to calm the storm of fear raging inside me. The air felt heavier, as if every molecule was soaked in tension and dread. My heart pounded violently, like it was trying to break free from my chest.
I raised my head slightly and stared into the darkness surrounding us. Then I spoke, my voice hesitant, barely escaping from between my trembling lips:
"H-How… how exactly does the game work?"
Silence followed.
It felt like I'd asked a question I was never supposed to ask—like my voice had disturbed something that was sleeping in a dark corner of the room.
Then, her voice came.
Calm… yet carrying that tone—like a hand resting gently on your shoulder before shoving you into an abyss:
"As I told you…"
She paused for a moment, as if savoring the tension, then continued:
"After ten minutes of the game begin... one of the three of us must try to make the other laugh."
But she didn't give me time to process her words. She continued quickly, this time with a tone less gentle... and more cunning:
"But… since you two are friends..."
She went quiet, then let out a short laugh—more like a whistle.
"Maybe you will cooperate...laugh on purpose when it is one of your turns, right?"
I felt cold blood freeze in my veins.
She knew.
She knew we might plan that.
She even knew things we hadn't thought of yet.
She continued, and this time, her words cut through hope like knives:
"That is why... when it is one of your turns, you will have to make me laugh. Only me."
She paused—then whispered:
"Not the other person. Do you understand?"
And in that moment… something inside me broke.
The last thread.
The fragile plan that had just begun forming in my mind, like a lifeline—shattered before it could fully take shape.
She knows.
I mean—it knows.
I lowered my head and closed my eyes for a moment, then said, trying to sound composed, though my words stumbled out:
"Y-yes… w-we understand…"
Then I slowly turned toward the darkness beside me—toward where Cairo was standing… or where he should be standing—and said:
"…Right, Cairo?"
He didn't answer.
The silence that followed my question was worse than any scream.
Cairo's silence wasn't normal.
I felt alone… again.
I inhaled anxiously, staring into the emptiness beside me, and raised my voice slightly—trying to breathe life back into someone frozen by fear:
"Hey, Cairo… say something."
Silence ruled for one more second.
Then, finally, his voice came.
Weak. Stuttering. As if every letter had been dragged from him after an exhausting inner battle:
"Y-ye… y-yes… w-we… w-we understand…"
I closed my eyes again, breathing heavily.
Cairo was scared.
And so was I.
And the doll… she knew that.
But there was no turning back now.
The game had already begun…
And we were all in it—without exception.
---
I hesitated.
But something inside me kept pushing—urging me to ask. Something small, something like hope… or maybe the illusion of safety.
I overcame the tremble in my voice and said, slowly and uncertainly:
"A-and… one more question."
There was silence again.
Then her voice returned—oddly calm, as if she was trying to show us a little respect… or at least something that resembled it:
"Ask."
I swallowed hard, then said—trying to sound more confident than I felt:
"After the game ends… you'll let us go, like you said… right?"
I wasn't just asking—I was begging for confirmation. I needed any kind of assurance, even if it was a lie—something to cling to in this suffocating darkness.
Her reply came, surprisingly calm:
"Yes. But… that is only if you beat me."
She paused, then added in a neutral tone… though it carried a strange weight:
"I keep my promises."
Her words didn't comfort me. They made me even more uneasy.
I keep my promises—it sounded like the kind of thing a predator would say to its prey with a fake smile, knowing full well it would never let them go.
But before I could fully absorb her answer, she added—like someone casually mentioning a small rule change in a game:
"Oh, and... I did not tell you before, but I will now release some spiders and insects onto the ceiling... to make things more fun."
My breath froze.
She wanted to make it more fun?
She continued, as if she were just arranging toys in a child's playroom:
"The first person to have one of the bugs fall on them... will be the first to try to make the others laugh after the ten minutes pass. That is how we will decide the order each time."
I was listening… but the words didn't reach me right away.
Then, suddenly—
Bugs?!
No… no… not that… not insects…
I have a phobia—a real one! How… how am I going to survive this?
Sweat poured from my skin, like every bit of body heat had exploded outward. A cold, sticky sensation crept to my limbs. I trembled, looking toward Cairo, hoping to find comfort in his eyes…
But the darkness was thick. Heavy. Like a wall that even air couldn't pass through.
Nothing.
Suddenly, out of nowhere…
I felt something touch my hand.
Small… cold… its skin damp like wet wood…
I held my breath.
Everything stopped.
I couldn't tell if I was still alive.
A hand gripped mine… slowly, but firmly.
It was her.
The doll—no doubt.
I felt like my eyes would pop from their sockets. My heart pounded in my ears like a death drum that wouldn't stop.
I tried to calm myself…
Tried to tell myself: It's just a game.
But my mind didn't believe it.
Then, her voice came—soft, very close… so close I could feel her breath against my face:
"Since the light is gone..."
She paused, then added with a mischievous but clear tone:
"I held your hand...so you would know I am here... and that I will not cheat."
What?!
Cheat?
Does a doll… care about cheating?
She continued, her voice still close:
"The same goes for Cairo. I will keep holding both of your hands until the game ends...so you are sure I am being fair."
Her words felt like a slap—not painful, but cold… and full of malice.
So we can be sure she's not cheating?
This wasn't reassurance.
It was a veiled threat.
She was here—right next to us. Watching every breath, every nervous twitch… and there was no escaping her.
"Maybe I have a tiny chance to survive," I whispered in my mind. "A tiny, almost invisible chance…"
Maybe… 0.5%... if that.
Then, without warning, she spoke sharply, as if ringing the bell that starts a nightmare:
"So... since the questions are over..."
Time paused for a second.
Then her voice rose, full of excitement:
"Let the game begin!"
I gasped—instinctively.
"What? Now?!"
I wasn't ready. Not my body. Not my mind. Not my soul.
But she didn't wait.
She began counting, her tone lively and upbeat:
"After the count of three...the game will start!"
Then added:
"One…"
There was no time.
I looked toward the darkness around me—as if searching for salvation. A way out. A crack in the wall where hope could slip through.
Nothing.
I dropped to the ground quickly, next to Cairo—who I suddenly felt move.
"Two…"
My breath quickened. I adjusted my posture—if we could call anything "comfortable" in that moment.
I placed my hands on my knees, sitting up as straight as I could, though my back felt like it would snap under the weight of tension.
"Three…"
And the doll was still holding my hand.
Small… cold… unshaken.
She didn't need to look at me to scare me…
Her presence alone… was more than enough.
And so, the game began.
But…
What kind of game was this?
It was nothing more than a nightmare…
Wearing a smile.