Chapter Text
You heaved, eyes trained on the sandy dirt as bile forced its way from your mouth. Chunks of your last meal — if you could even call it that — splattered on the ground, blending into the dust and grime. Around you, muffled screams and the distant wails of others in the hall echoed through the tension-thick air. Your hands trembled, clutching your stomach as you tried your hardest to steady your breath.
“Player 444, eliminated,” the robotic voice echoed, but your mind was preoccupied with the slop of vomit in front of you.
Your mouth twitched as you brought a finger to your lips, wiping away the crusted remnants of your sickness. You dared not to wonder what plagued you, and could only surmise that it was the sickening sound of death overwhelming your senses.
It couldn’t be that your period was late, and just before the games had begun you threw up once again in the bathroom. It had to be some sick reaction to being kidnapped — perhaps the drug they used to knock you out? Your mind searched for explanations.
“Are you okay, Miss?” A masculine voice asked from behind you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.
You brushed it off quickly, shaking your head and standing up. Your eyes didn't meet his at first, dragging over his all too tidy jumpsuit.
“I’m fine,” you reassured the stranger, eyes flickering by his number — 001 — before meeting his gaze.
Your eyes lingered on his face, taking quick note of his beautiful complexion before drifting past him towards a small woman whose hand seemed to hover around her stomach instinctively. Your mind strayed from the stranger, back to where it was before — searching for answers. But no, that couldn’t be possible.
You grimaced, blinking back tears before shooting a fake smile towards the handsome player. Vision almost blurred, you hadn't noticed his questioning gaze.
“Thank you,” you bowed, taking a step away from the man.
You hadn’t come to terms with your reality yet, and it appeared nobody else had either. The reprieve of the open skies above seemed to be taken from you, a large automated roof coming to close you in the four-walled container like sardines.
Your eyes flickered over to player 456, the man who tried to warn you all, sat in complete devastation with blood splatters on his face. Too much was on your mind at once.
The noise of the game arena swallowed your thoughts whole. You couldn’t shake the sickening weight of the dead man’s bloodshot eyes as they glazed over in his final moments. Eliminated. A word that felt so sterile, so clean for something so horrifying.
You held back another gag, hand coming to your mouth. You wouldn't forget the sight of him dying any time soon.
The doors you had initially entered through had opened once again, and a few guards came to lead you from the battlefield. They took you over the corpses that had been living breathing humans 5-minutes prior.
You inhaled deeply, trying to relax yourself when the most haunting chain of thoughts plagued you. What had you gotten yourself into? What were these games? Were you going to die?
Death.
It didn’t seem a bad thought to you before, but you would never really follow through with it. Now, being put in the closest position you had ever been to death, you realised more than anything that you wanted to survive.
Reality came down hard once you re-entered the main hall of bunk-beds. You were surely going to die here, and even worse — You were pregnant.
You almost supposed it was a mercy for the child to be killed before it was ever truly alive. Maybe, in some twisted way, the universe was sparing the child from ever being in the clutches of its father — a man who showed you as a woman no compassion, and certainly wouldn't to a child.
You picked at your nails when you sat down, wanting to hit yourself for ever thinking coming here was a good idea. It seemed unavoidable. The charming man in the suit with whom you played a game of ddakji with, he seemed to carry an inviting essence. His words were like honey, and sounded not like an idea, but a promise.
You were presented an opportunity. You could escape the life you had been forced in. You had no debt like you were sure the others here did, but you had nothing to your name. No qualifications, no family, and nobody to help you leave that monster that shared your bed.
With the money, you could leave.
But games to the death were not what you had envisioned.
When the metal doors to the bed-hall opened, mostly everybody scrambled backwards once they saw the pink guards. Their only mark of identity that you could use to describe them was by the black mask and shape on their faces.
So far, triangles seemed to be henchmen, and squares seemed to be group leaders. Not that it would matter when they held up a gun to you.
Stuck so deeply in your mind, you forgot to react with fear, leaving you one of the only ones in clear view of the pink guards. When you realised your predicament, you didn’t cower, but instead, raised your head to study to the guards closer.
You thought it wouldn’t make sense for them to kill you here, and some deep part of you knew that you were safe from harm — at least in the current moment. You knew what provocation looked like. You knew when you were moments away from a hit. These... guards were of no threat to you. Yet.
“Congratulations for making it through the first game,” the square guard announced in a modulated voice. “Here are the results of the first game.”
Your eyes flickered upwards to see the large number 456 slowly flick down to 365. Your mind hadn't even comprehended that many bodies when you were all escorted out. You couldn’t envision the massacre clearly anymore, it being erased from your memory to protect your own sanity.
Maybe it was better that way.
“Out of 456 players, 91 players have been eliminated,” the square continued. “Three hundred sixty five players have completed the first game. Congratulations again for making it through the first game.”
91 people. Not players. Your chest ached.
Drawing your attention, an older lady and younger man pushed past the crowd and hobbled towards the guards.
“Sir! Please don’t kill us! Please don’t kill us. I beg you!” The old lady, player 149, cried, getting down to her knees. “As for my son’s debt, I will do whatever it takes to pay you back!”
“Please forgive us!” She cried out again, taking her son, player 007, by the arm. “Don’t just stand there. Beg for his forgiveness,” she told him sternly, her motherly tone coming out through her tears.
“I’m sorry. Please forgive me,” 007 cried out alongside his mother, falling to his knees.
“I promise I’ll pay it back!”
The square guard seemed to hesitate before speaking. “There seems to be a misunderstanding,” they said. “We are not trying to harm you.”
“We are presenting you with an opportunity.”
You frowned, subconsciously taking a step back when a booming voice echoed across the room.
“Clause three of the consent form,” 456’s voice called out as he stood, stepping through the crowd of people with a brave face. People parted way for him, like he was a natural leader.
You think back to how he guided you all through the first game, and curiosity weighed heavily upon you. What did this man know?
“The games may be terminated upon a majority vote,” he continued, eyes firmly placed on the guard despite all other eyes on him. “Correct?”
The masked manager nodded. “That is correct.”
“Then let us take a vote right now,” 456 suggested, and it was hard for you to miss the stiffness of the square guard.
“Of course,” they nodded. “We respect your right to freedom of choice.”
The others around you sighed in relief, but something deep within you churned anxiously. You were suspecting some type of catch.
“But first,” the masked manager began, making you inhale sharply. “Let me announce the prize amount that’s been accumulated.”
Dangling in the centre of the room, a large translucent piggy bank descended the ceiling, beginning to fill with stacks of won. The people around you began to mutter, and any pleas for mercy seemed completely disregarded. Cries became murmurs of awe, and you had to force yourself to look away.
For a moment you almost found yourself swayed, but the soft churning in your stomach reminded you that you were not only making decisions for yourself.
“The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91. Therefore, a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated,” the masked square explained. “If you quit the games now, the 365 of you can equally divide the 9.1 billion won and leave with your share.”
You seemed to somewhat accept this outcome. Leaving with something was better than nothing at all — or, being dead.
“Each person’s share would be 24,931,500 won.”
Some younger men beside you seemed to dislike this. “Fuck. We almost died, and they’re giving us 24 million?”
“That’s fucking bullshit.”
“Twenty million?” Another echoed disgustedly.
“You said 45.6 billion!”
You, however, had no complaints. That amount of won would serve you well enough to leave the city. You could get to Busan, but the rest of your plan hadn't come to you yet. You were an idealist — or, painfully naive.
“The rule is that a hundred million won will be accumulated for each eliminated player. If you choose to play the next game and more players get eliminated, the prize amount will increase accordingly,” the square leader continued to explain, but it didn’t seem to go into others' heads.
“How much will it be if you survive until the end?”
You could almost hear the masked manager sigh. “As I already told you, the total amount of prize money for all 456 players is 45.6 billion won. Those who make it through all six games will equally divide the 45.6 billion won.”
“So if you’re the only one to survive, you get 45.6 billion?”
“That’s correct,” they replied. The room then fell into contemplative silence.
You felt stunned into silence, your eyes flickering around you to those who would seemingly have no issue killing you for that money. You didn’t know now if being pregnant would serve to protect you, or have you thrown to the dogs.
Hopefully, after voting, you’d have no need to concern yourself with it.
The process was explained simply, starting with the highest number 456 who voted to end the games. You never doubted for a moment that that would be your vote as well.
“Yo, thirteen, after this what say you and I get to know each other a little better?” The purple-haired man, number 230, asked you as you waited in the crowd.
Your face crinkled up, not expecting to be hit on at all in your current situation.
“You don’t need to concern yourself with her, bro. She threw up all over the ground after the first game like a pussy,” the longer haired man, 124, commented with a laugh.
230 seemed to find this entertaining. “What, are you pregnant?” He joked, and although he wasn’t serious, it almost stunned you to hear out loud.
You opened your mouth to retort when the purple-haired man was called to make his vote. You sighed lightly in relief, stepping back into player 222, the pregnant woman from earlier. She seemed to be trying to hide it, but after catching her earlier, there was no changing that you knew.
“I’m so sorry Miss,” you bowed in politeness.
She stared at you blankly for a moment, face pale and eyes glossed over like she was somewhere else.
You frowned. “Are you okay?”
The young lady straightened up, eyes focussing on you. She nodded affirmatively.
”Yes, yes,” she bowed slightly. “My apologies.”
Your eyes flickered down to her stomach. Lips parted, you were about to ask her a question when a loud voice interrupted you both.
Player 456, who seemed to be fed up with the amount of people voting to keep the games going, stepped out into the aisle with his arms out.
“Wait a minute, everyone!”
“You can’t do this. Come to your senses! Don’t you see? These aren’t just any games. We will all die if we keep playing!”
You placed your head in your hands when you heard people beginning to argue, and for a moment you were worried that his intentions had the opposite effect. Player 456 was forced back onto the X’s side with a gun to his back, yet that did little to deter others from voting to continue. After they heard he had played the games before, that seemed to egg them on even more.
Once you took your vote, you quietly made your way to the X’s side, face becoming more gaunt as you grew hungrier. You threw up your last meal, and there was no telling when your next one would be.
When it came down to Player 001, the man that had spoken to you earlier, the people from both sides began to shout at him to vote. The votes were tied at 182-182, and you really didn’t want to watch as your fate would be decided.
But the cheers from the O’s indicated a grim fate for you.