"E-excuse me everyone, the games have begun!" The same nervous male voice echoed loudly from the speakers.
A TV screen was slowly unveiled from a retracted part of the upper wall. It simply read,
[ Time Limit 1:00:00 ]
A frozen time reflected brightly on the black screen. They were preparing to give the instructions to the first game. I mentally steeled myself for what I knew was to come. Reading a story and seeing it play out in front of you are entirely different.
Countless people began formed groups where the players near by and talking amongst themselves. Overlapping voices filled the room, all utterly scared and trying to find a reason to the nonsensical situation.
Will's eyes were glued to the screen, his panic plainly displayed in his expression. His fear amplified my own as the words from the first chapter bubbled to the surface of my thoughts.
"Where are we?!" A tattooed man in a wife beater screamed towards the speakers.
The exclamation quieted the noisy room momentarily before more players chimed in to ask the similar questions.
"Why are we here!"
"Have you kidnapped us!"
"What do you want!"
The voices began muddling over one another in a steady stream with only silence as a response. The yelling continued for a while before the sound of the man cleaning his throat was heard through the speakers.
"I-I understand this is difficult for you all! But I must continue to tell you about the first gam—"
"We won't play whatever sick game you have planned! Let us out!" The tattooed man boldly interrupted.
A much calmer smooth voice echoed throughout the dome.
"I'm very sorry to hear that," said a man with a smile hinted in his tone.
That must be the game maker, I thought with dread. His apprentice, Brittle, was the voice we've been hearing. This was happening just how the story described in such abundant detail.
"Unfortunately, the games are mandatory," he continued in an ominously pleasant tone.
"I will now explain the rules! You all are now all players in the death game. One winner shall prevail with endless glory while the losers pay the ultimate price. The first game is simple, 50 of you must die."
The end of the sentence caused chaos to erupt in the crowd of people as denial quickly set in. The many players expressed their disbelief at the statement and others began to give in to panic.
"Now now, let me finish! It doesn't matter how they die, but if 50 are not dead by the time the timer runs out, you all will die!" The game maker finished with a cruel delight.
The crowd began screaming to the speakers—some pleading for mercy while others expressed their anger.
I saw the women, much more silent than the men, take in the reality of the situation. They knew that if what the announcer said was true, the weak would die. A sad and unfair realization hit them like cement.
Many players broke out sobbing, tried to climb back up the chutes, or talk about numerous ways to escape.
"We really have to...kill each other...?" Will turned to me, eyes wide with shock.
"This is insane...there's no way," I say back, my voice came out shaky and frightened.
The same tattooed man yelled again, "We're not playing to your sick fantasy! Let us the fuck out!"
"That's not very nice," the game maker said like an elementary scolding a young child.
Before he could say another word, his neck exploded.
Pieces of flesh and blood sprayed out onto the white floor and nearby players. Screaming rang throughout the crowd of people. Anyone near him rushed away desperately in a blind panic.
The shock was felt heavily by each and every person—except for one. While everyone was staring at the gory mess, my eyes somehow found their way to Simon. His expression remained calm as he gazed at the same disaster with no more interest than studying a line of ants on the sidewalk.
His eery calm sent shivers down my spine even more so than the most gruesome sight of my life. I felt dizzy and the strong urge to vomit like many others were doing at the deeply disturbing image.
The smell of blood and puke wafted strongly thought the room and made my grit my teeth in disgust.
Will looked as deeply disturbed as I felt with his hands clamped firmly over his mouth.
"That's the p-penalty for everyone here if you lose this game," came Brittle through the speaker.
[Time Limit 0:59:56]
The timer has started to count down. All I had to do was wait now for the right moment.
The room was once again filled with noise of people talking about what to do.
"Do we really have to kill fifty people...?" I overheard a man in the group next to us ask.
"It's either kill or explode to death!" A lean mousy brown-haired man responded. He wore a "Mad Max: Fury Road" T-shirt and was gripping his head anxiously.
I recognized the description of George in an instant. He was a light hearted character that slowly devolved to evil over the many games, becoming Simon's enemy. He turned out to be a smart strategist that excelled at charming those around him.
"Um, Will...I know this is a lot to ask, but could I stick by you for this game?" I ask, an implied request for his protection. I knew Will's nature—he was one the rare few who was still kind by the end of the novel.
Will seemed to be shaken out a of a stupor from the shocking earlier events.
"...Yes, I won't let you die."