Forsaken Squid Games

by twoofspades

Summary:

(TITLE AND TAGS WILL LIKELY BE CHANGED LATER)

Basically I've shoved a bunch of Forsaken characters into Squid Games to see who comes out on top.

This is a silly goofy project I'm doing alone so will have VERY irregular uploads sorry yall.

All art in this is by me

hope you enjoy watching the gays kill each other I sure do

Chapter 1: Luck Runs Out

Chance was in deep shit.

 

Less than a day ago he had gambled away all of his life savings and then some, and made a deal with a man dressed all in black (albeit with adorable bunny ears) to get more money.

 

Then guess what he did with that money.

 

Go on. Guess.

 

He gambled it all away again.

 

Man, what an idiot he was - and still is. An idiot for gambling and even more of an idiot for taking a business card from some sketchy salesman in a much nicer suit than his.

 

An idiot for having any hope left in his body while dialing that number and an idiot for getting in that car.

 

Look where that got him. Stuck in a stack of uncomfortable beds, in a place he doesn’t know, in some weird tracksuit that does him zero favours in the looks department.

 

At least they let him keep the sunglasses; everything else he had on is gone with the winds now. Including his gun, which would’ve been really nice to have just in case.

 

Oh well, now’s not the time for wallowing in self-pity, especially when he’s pretty much just been kidnapped and dragged off to who-knows-where.

 

He sits up and slides out of the bed, walking down some rather convenient metal stairs to join a crowd of similarly dressed people with the same confused expression on their faces. Okay, so he’s not alone here. That’s good. Maybe they can all help each other.

 

The room is absolutely massive and the edges are stacked with uniform bunk-beds that reach almost to the ceiling. In the middle of the beds, a pool of people all in the same green uniform are standing there looking lost. 

 

Strangely, he notices that everyone has a different number on both the front and back of the tracksuits, as well as on the shirt underneath. He looks down at his own.

 

077

 

Oh! His lucky number. It’s a shame it wasn’t 777, but it really doesn’t seem like the space they’re all in could fit that many people. Anyway, he already knows how many people there are here, what with the massive screen above them showing a large, glowing 456.

 

He scans the crowd and notices a few people who stick out: a tall man with electric blue hair bearing the number 137 and a slightly shorter man with shoulder-length brown hair and purple glasses with the number 007 printed on his back.

 

Before he can question anything else, the doors underneath the screen open and a few people in hot pink uniforms and masks with circles painted on them step out, accompanied by one with a square mask.

 

Instantly, an uproar begins; people are screaming at the masked people to let them go home and asking why they’re all numbered as if they are cattle.

 

The noise refuses to stop, and even without seeing their face, Chance can tell that the square mask is getting annoyed at the crowd.

 

The guard raises his hand for silence, and it is only granted when the screen above flashes into a reel of videos.

 

Videos of every last participant getting the shit beaten out of them for being terrible at ddakji - the very same game Chance played with a salesman before being given this place’s business card.

 

It looks like every last person here is struggling, and he knows that’s bad news. He’s lived near dangerous people all his life - he practically lives in the casino - and he knows firsthand that cooping up a bunch of desperate, indebted people together will never end well.

 

The video reel stops on a few, singling out some of the loudest objectors. The square guard’s voice carries across the room effortlessly now as he names every single one of them along with how much they owe.

 

Gods, and Chance thought his debt was bad. Some of these people have double that, if not triple.

 

Desperate.

 

One short clip catches everyone’s attention, however. It’s of the same man he saw earlier - the one with the number 007. Strangely, he isn’t in a train station, or even inside for that matter.

 

He’s standing outside in the dark with strong wind blowing through his hair and a tear-streaked face, clearly on one of the tall bridges scattering the city and holding a small bottle like a lifeline.

 

The reel ends with the man warily taking a business card, then the screen turns back to the number of players. Chance looks over and notices player 007 looking down in embarrassment and shame.

 

Poor guy; he should talk to him later.

 

The square guard’s voice carries through the room effortlessly now that the uproar has been subdued.

 

“All of you here will participate in a series of six games to earn money. Before we begin with the first game, you will each have to sign a contract stating that you agree to play.”

Okay, not so bad then. Chance steps into one of four lines that have formed around stands at the front of the room.

As he approaches the front, he sees a neat contract along with a pen perched on a lectern, waiting for him to sign. Because he isn’t that stupid, he skims through the contract before signing.

 

CLAUSE 1: Every player agrees to play a series of six games. A player is not allowed to stop playing at any point.

 

CLAUSE 2: If a player refuses to take part in the games, they will be eliminated.

 

CLAUSE 3: If the majority of players agree, the games will be terminated and everyone will be sent home.

 

Eliminated, huh? Do they mean sent back home? They do, surely. Chance takes the pen and signs along the line with a flick of his wrist before rejoining the crowd forming at the back of the hall.

 

The doors at the end of the room open and guards lead the players into a huge open space. Chance looks up and... oh god, this place is massive. There are at least 4 floors above him and there’s most likely more below.

 

They each take turns taking their photo, for which Chance flashes one of his award-winning smiles. They file through a colourful corridor and up some stairs, then meet three doors.

 

Everyone sort of splits up to examine the doors before they finally open. They’re about twice the height of Chance and at the top have three shapes carved into the deep green metal in a pattern.

 

Eventually, they open and Chance steps out with the crowd into blinding sunlight. With the sunglasses on, he adjusts to the light in half the time of everybody else and scans the arena.

 

Sand. Sand blocked off in a rectangle by fake walls painted to depict outside scenery. There’s a red line painted into the dirt a few feet from where he’s standing and on the opposite side of the court there’s a similar red line, along with a tree, some guards and-

 

Is that a doll?

 

Okay, that thing is seriously creepy.

 

Suddenly, a voice blasts from some hidden speakers around the arena,

 

“In this first game, you will be playing Red Light, Green Light. You may move when it shouts out Green Light, and must stop when it shouts Red Light. If your movement is detected after a Red Light, you will be eliminated.”

 

They have got to be joking. Chance has played this game since he was a kid and he’s not half bad if he does say so himself. With this many people, how are they even going to tell if he does move, though?

 

The doll turns around and a large digital clock above it shows 5 minutes. To cover that much ground? They’d have to all move fast.

 

The timer starts ticking down, and Chance - along with a couple others - take the opportunity and dash forwards, covering a bit of ground before the music stops and ‘Red Light’ reverberates through the field.

Luckily, Chance is able to stop and stay steady on his feet. However, one of the other first runners wasn’t so lucky and slips over onto his face.

 

The guy - donning the number 042 - stands up and laughs at who seems to be his friend, who also relaxes and steps forward to greet him.

 

Chance is about to do the same thing when a loud gunshot cuts off the guy’s tinny laugh and he falls to the floor, a steady stream of blood gushing from his head.

 

Oh.

 

Oh no.

 

The guy’s friend yells and turns to run but isn’t fast enough and takes a bullet to the chest, spraying Chance’s face with a stream of blood before the guy falls at his feet.

 

Don’t move.

 

Don’t move.

 

Don’t move .

 

Poker face, Chance. Stay silent. Stay still. Ignore the screams behind you. Ignore the gunshots and the sound of bodies falling.

 

Close your eyes until-

 

“Green Light!”

Chance shakily steps forward, settling into a steady speedwalk. He can’t afford to look behind him to assess the extent of the damage the initial panic caused, but the eerie silence clearly isn’t a good sign.

 

At the next red light, there are only a couple sounds of a gun being fired and he can’t help but wonder if that’s due to people realising what this ‘game’ truly is and standing still.

 

Or if there just aren’t any people left to shoot.

 

This time, he sacrifices precious movement time to look behind him and survey the scene.

 

Many people are still upright and moving, evidently terrified. So, so many lie unmoving behind them, clearly having been ‘eliminated’.

 

Chance is still one of the ones in the front, but with the rate everyone else is moving he may not be for much longer. Too quickly, he turns around and slips over just as the doll turns around again.

 

Unluckily for him, however, he catches himself. Now instead of being face-down in the sand, he’s in a press-up position and has to hold that for who knows how long.

 

His arms are beginning to tremble slightly and for a split second, for the first time in his life, he feels as if his luck has run out.

 

“Green Light!”

This is the point where he falls down face-first into the sand. He shakily gets to his feet but is suddenly roughly pulled up and half-dragged a couple of paces. He shakes off the hand and jogs beside the person on his own.

 

“What was that for?” Chance asks, clearly annoyed at the gesture.

 

“Saving your life. You might not have, Mr ‘I ran first and asked questions later’, but I had to watch at least a hundred people die there and from your reaction back then, you’re too valuable to let die.”

 

His question is answered by a man around his height with yellow skin and golden curls that seem to have frizzed slightly from the earlier panic. On his uniform is the number 317. He notices the small smirk Chance now has on his face and scoffs another response,

“Don’t get too full of yourself, pretty boy, I just didn’t want your blood on my shoes.”

“Awwww, you saved me because I’m pretty?”

“Shut up and move.”

They continue like that for around two minutes of the remaining time, running alongside each other and grabbing each other’s arms so neither fall during a red light.

 

At one point, a larger man ends up in front of the two, but stops in an unsteady position at the red light. Him overtaking them tripped up Chance a bit, and he ended up moving slightly to catch himself.

 

He stops and braces for the inevitable shot, but it never comes. He warily opens his eyes and sees that the guy is blocking the doll’s view of both him and part of his friend.

 

Speaking of the friend, he looks pissed that some rando just almost accidentally murdered his new ally. So much so that he reaches a hand forward and twists his fingers tightly into the man’s hair, causing him to look backwards and move his arm to dislodge him.

 

317 only grins as a loud gunshot rings out and the guy falls down onto the sand, staining it crimson.

 

At the next green light, Chance is about to ask him what the hell that was for, but instead looks up at the clock which now displays a very scary 10 seconds remaining.

 

They share a look of ‘Oh shit’ and both grab each other and sprint towards the finish line where many other contestants are also waiting for the game to end.

 

They pass it just as the final ‘Red Light!’ is announced and collapse on the sand, laughing like schoolchildren.

 

They lie there for a couple seconds before the adrenaline of their near-death experience wears off and the minor aches start settling into their legs from the running.

 

“Damn.” 317 breathes, “We are covered in blood.”

He looks down to their sides.

 

“And holding hands.”

 

Chance quickly sits up and pulls his hand back, nervous that he might have made his new friend uncomfortable at the accidental gesture. The other man just laughs and helps them both to their feet.

 

He stands about an inch shorter than Chance and has dark brown eyes. Slightly closer now, his hair appears slightly frizzier and in bigger curly coils than previously.

 

“My name’s Elliot, by the way. What’s yours? I mean- I assume we’re going to team up now and I’d rather not just call you 077 the entire time.”

“Chance.”

“You here because you gambled all your money away?”

“I- yeah.”

 

“Ironic.”

 

A flurry of loud gunshots interrupts their short conversation. The timer on the game has ended and everyone left in the area has been killed for failing to make it across.

 

Everyone left is either shaking and crying or swaggering their way between the guards leading them out; Chance and Elliot are definitely the latter, laughing and chatting their entire way back to the main rooms.

 

When they return, they make their way over to one of the beds on the inner circle of the room, surveying the scene before them.

 

People are yelling and crying at the guards to release them and to let them go home. Everyone is yelling all at once, bloodstained bodies pushing against one another to be the first to complain.

 

However, everything falls silent when the room is bathed in gold and a large glass piggybank is hung from the ceiling. Every time the player count on the large screen drops by one, a stack of cash falls into the golden glass with a satisfying thud.

 

The number stops at an even 290 and another number appears below it on the screen.

 

£16,600,000

 

Holy shit. That’s enough to pay off Chance’s debt and leave enough for him to buy a mansion. If he got his hands on that money-

 

How are people still asking to be let go? He gets that they might, y’know, die , but that money would be enough to cover almost everyone’s debt. Wait- overall it is, but if it’s shared, then… that’s nowhere near enough.

 

Someone interrupts the commotion, addressing the guards in a deep, calm voice.

 

“The third clause on the contract stated that if the majority rules, we all get set free. Is that correct? Why don’t we all take a vote?”

The man who spoke stands quite a bit taller than the others surrounding him and he does seem to contrast them quite a bit. He has charcoal-black skin and his torso seems to be glowing a sickly shade of green underneath his shirt. Long white braids hang from his head in a high ponytail and the one eye visible underneath his hair is a deep red.

 

The guards along with the players agree to the idea of a vote, and soon a small table-esque structure stands in the front of the room, just below the staircase leading out.

 

The players all gather at the back, with Chance and Elliot somewhat near the front. Now that the space is cleared, Chance can see two lines glowing faintly on the floor in blue and red, and outlines of an O shape and an X shape on each respective side.

 

The guard calls out the numbers in ascending order - well, if they’re still alive - beginning with 001. The woman steps between the red and blue lines as she approaches the podium, and hesitantly presses a button that glows a bright blue.

 

On the screen above, a vote count begins. 0 for the Xs, 1 for the Os. She is handed a blue patch which she attaches to her tracksuit, pushing her magenta hair out of the way as she walks over to the blue side of the room. The order continues.

 

Chance turns to Elliot,

 

“What are you going to do? Stay or go?”

“Stay. I need that money and what they’re offering to split among us isn’t nearly enough for what I need to do.”

“Same. That isn’t enough to cover a third of what I need.”

 

Not long after, the guard at the front calls 077 and Chance walks forward, confidently pressing the blue button imprinted with a large O. He attaches a blue patch also bearing an O onto his uniform and walks over to the blue side, giving Elliot a thumbs up and a wave as he goes.

 

The vote takes a lot of time, and Chance is getting bored waiting for Elliot on the O side. They’re only into the 200s, and with Elliot’s number being nearer the end he has a lot more waiting to do.

 

Someone walks up and stands right next to him, snapping him out of his bored daze. It’s the same guy from the start of the day - with the blue hair - and he stands there in silence, seemingly waiting for something. It might be for the end of the vote; it might be for Chance to turn around and talk to him. He’ll take that risk.

 

“Uh, hi there. Do I know you?”

 

The man turns to him as if surprised by the question, but relieved he was spoken to.

 

“No, but I was wondering - since you also voted O and seem to have nobody around you - would you like to join my team? I saw you run out first in that game we just had, and I think it would help to have that bravery in our team.”

“Oh- I.. uhh. I would love to have a team, but I’d have to ask my buddy first. We’ve already grouped up. It’s 317 over there - his name is Elliot, and mine’s Chance. You don’t mind?”

 

“Of course not! Safety in numbers, right? My name is Guest 1337, and this-” He beckons over the other man from the start of the day, number 007, “is 007n7. The number’s ironic, I know, but he’s a good guy.”

Chance introduces himself to them some more and gets a steady conversation going when Elliot walks up and casually interrupts the conversation with his presence.

 

He ends up getting along really well with Guest after introducing himself, but as soon as he sees that 007n7 is also in their group he stops talking and pulls Chance aside.

 

“I don’t think grouping with them is a good idea.” Elliot whispers with a serious look on his face.

 

“Why not? They seem nice enough for now.”

“That n7 guy. He’s a hacker.” Elliot sighs and explains more after seeing the blank look on Chance’s face, “He practically destroyed the place I work at a few months ago with his son. That’s the whole reason I’m here; we need more money to rebuild properly and get the place out of debt. Not to mention my own.”

“Oh. That’s… not good. But are you sure he’s a real threat here? He doesn’t look scary, just kinda sad.”

They talk for a couple more minutes, Guest and n7 watching in confusion at the heated whispering. Eventually, Chance manages to convince Elliot to tolerate 007n7 being within two metres of him and they walk back to the other two.

 

Guest leads them both over to a corner where he’s already set up a sort of base with unused, upturned beds guarding an area that has its floor scattered with mattresses.

 

At least they’ll be safe.

 

They grab a small box of food from the line and spend the rest of their night in their corner of the O side of the room, chatting about their lives and what they think the next game will be.

 

“You know,” 007n7 says through a mouthful of rice, “That first game was one we all played as kids, right? What if they’re all like that?”

 

“Possibly.” Elliot, for once, agrees with him, “So what could they be?”

His question is meant with deafening silence. Nobody really has any idea of plausible children’s games, let alone games that could kill people. In the middle of their little thinking circle, the lights on the room suddenly shut off, plunging the hall into darkness save the light glowing from the X and O lines in the centre.

 

007n7 gasps slightly at the sudden light shut off and is met with an “Oh, shut up.” from Elliot. The group seems to take this as an invitation to go to sleep and each find a blanket. They lie down on one of the mattresses strewn over the floor and sit in silence for a while.

 

“Hey guys. Guess what.” Chance whispers suddenly, waking up half the group.

 

“What. And this better be important.” Guest responds, clearly annoyed at the lack of sleep.

 

“All of our numbers end in 7. Isn’t that cool?”

There’s a pause where everybody lies in silence once more.

 

“Go to sleep, Chance.” Guest sighs, sounding disappointed.

“Yep, alright. Sleeping now. Look how not-awake I am.”

“Chance.”

“Sorry.”

Chapter 2: Fragile

Noob can’t really remember how they even got here.

 

All they know is a whirl of mishaps and one incident that left them and their good friend in a lot of debt. It didn’t help at all that not long after, that friend disappeared, leaving all of the problems with Noob.

 

And now they’re stuck in some twisted ‘game’ where 166 people have already died.

 

Even though the whole ordeal isn’t really Noob’s fault, they still feel like it is.

 

They jolt awake at the sound of tinny music reverberating throughout the hall. Rubbing their eyes, they look to the small ‘team’ of people they were lucky enough to find.

 

Two of their teammates - 141 and 282 - were already arguing. Noob was never amazing with names, but could remember 1x1x1x1’s. He was the one to initiate the vote to leave, so Noob kind of clung to his side for his bravery and surprisingly, 1x let them.

 

Shedletsky was 282’s name, and he’s been nonstop arguing with 1x ever since they noticed each other in the game. Noob can’t help but wonder why they even teamed up, but they suppose it’s because it was too much work to make new ‘friends’.

 

Yeah, 1x definitely seems as if he’s waiting to use Shedletsky as a meat shield later.

 

Taph sits behind them, silently fiddling with a bit of string he likely pulled off a spare mattress, the number 404 partially obscured by a bandana tied around his head as a makeshift hood. He’s been very quiet, only communicating through sign language to Noob, but as long as they can understand him, they don’t mind how they speak. It’s not as if they’re the most talkative either.

 

The group stands around semi-awkwardly until the pink guards re-enter the room for the morning. Noob shudders at the prospect of another game and wonders how on earth people actually voted to stay in this thing - the vote is so close to an even 50/50.

 

They’d live a whole lifetime in crippling debt if it meant leaving this hellhole for good.

 

After a small breakfast, the guards announce that it’s time for the second game to begin, and lead the remaining players out of the doors and back into the colourful halls of the massive building.

 

Noob wonders if the entire place is actually really deep underground; they haven’t seen any windows yet while walking through this place.

 

Everyone left alive walks in a line through the pastel corridors of the building to reach the room many of them would never leave. Noob stays close to his groupmates, walking between Taph and 1x as they approach the doors.

 

When the doors eventually open, the players are let loose into what looks like a massive playground, with climbing equipment, swings and slides dotted around a large room with a sandy floor.

 

At the edge of the room are what looks like four doors with different shapes on them: a triangle, circle, star and umbrella.

 

The players are given about a minute to survey the area before the same voice comes back over the speakers to explain the rules of the game,

 

“Players. Please choose one of the four shapes on the wall. Once you have made your selection, please stand in front of it.”

 

Noob stands awkwardly with their group, wondering which shape to choose when nobody even knows what the game even is.

 

The triangle seems good- no, it looks too simple. The umbrella looks the most complicated, but what if it makes the game harder? It would be best to go somewhere in the middle, like the circle or the star.

 

They turn to their group, who seem to be looking at the shapes with the same expressions on their face, trying to figure out what they’re actually doing with them.

 

1x is the first to address the team, gravelly voice snapping everyone out of thought,

 

“Well, we’ve got two options here. Stay together or split up with one person going to each shape.”

“I think we should stay together,” Noob says quietly, “That way we can all use the same strategy.”

Shedletsky interrupts, “I disagree. Splitting up will guarantee we all do different things, but if we all pick one shape we could all die if whatever we're doing is too difficult.”

 

The discussion continues for a while longer, until the time limit is up. They agree on a mix of the ideas; they pick two shapes - star and triangle - and two people go to each.

 

Noob waits in line with Shedletsky in front of the star until the door eventually opens, revealing a circle-masked guard standing in front of a table stacked with small metal discs, most likely containers of some kind.

 

When Noob reaches the front of the line, they are given a small circle case, the metal cold against their already sweaty palm. They make their way underneath the slide in the middle of the room, lying down their jacket to sit on. The number 006 faces upwards for a moment before they lay the case on top of it.

 

“Players, please take a moment to open your containers and check the contents.”

Noob obliges, silently twisting open the lid that pops open with a little bit of force. Inside is a thin circle of brittle sugar candy marked with a star along with a needle.

A wave of memories crashes over them, bringing them back to a time where they would sit with their best friend in the grass as kids and crack apart these same sugar cookies, trying to break out the shape untouched.

 

Dalgona.

 

Noob drops the container, hands shaking and tears threatening to spill over. They always failed this game as a child. No matter how simple the shape, they somehow always managed to break it.

 

And now, with shaking hands, a timer and a gun practically pressed to their head, there’s practically zero chance of them surviving this.

 

“The second game is dalgona. You must remove the shape you have chosen entirely from the cookie. If you break or crack your shape, you will be eliminated. The time limit is ten minutes. Let the game begin.”

Noob lets out an audible sob this time, sitting down and trying not to look at the star shape that will get them killed. Even if they really tried their best, it would take far longer than ten minutes to get that shape out.

 

It would have been even worse had they gone for the umbrella.

 

Speaking of, they crane their head to look in the direction of a loud expletive yelled from another direction, only to see a man with grey skin, hair and black sunglasses with his hand over his face while his golden-haired friend laughs. Someone clearly got the umbrella, and while they do feel a little bad, Noob’s just glad it wasn’t them.

 

They wipe the tears from their cheeks and go back to looking at their star, only to see 1x inches from their face, making them jump. They wordlessly slide their container containing a triangle cookie towards Noob, then take their star shape.

 

“Cmon. Don’t waste more time sulking and get going.” 1x says, picking up the case and scratching at the shape with his needle, “They’ll still kill you if time runs out.”

 

“Is that.. allowed? Swapping with me?”

 

“They never said it wasn’t, so they can’t kill me for it. Should've been more clear with the rules if it was a problem.”

That sounds fair. Noob sits next to him and starts scratching at the indents in the cookie, glad for the easier shape yet wondering why 1x even swapped with them. Probably because they were sitting under a slide and crying like a little bitch. Yeah, that sounds about right.

 

They sit there in silence for about a minute before a loud gunshot rings across the room, making Noob jump and almost break the triangle. They hear a loud crack from next to them and look nervously to their right, where 1x is effortlessly removing half of the cookie surrounding his star.

 

He makes it look easy, and Noob is stuck there wondering how he doesn’t seem scared of breaking the shape at all.

 

More gunshots interrupt the silence of the room, startling every player and even causing some to lose the game. However, at about the 4 minute mark, an announcement is called not signalling a death.

 

“Player 404: Pass.”

Noob and 1x turn their heads to where Taph is holding up a perfect triangle in front of a pink guard and is promptly led through the doors leading back to the main room. Lucky.

 

Quite a few other players pass in the time it takes Noob to almost finish the triangle, making sure to be extra careful in case they crack it in an unexpected place.

 

1x finishes the harder shape long before them, and stands up to present it to the triangle guard standing almost right next to the pair. As soon as the intercom buzzes with a loud “Player 141: Pass”, 1x then proceeds to snap the cookie clean in two and eat it, turning to Noob with a smirk and a thumbs up as he’s led away.

 

They’re alone.

 

With barely any time remaining, even the guy from the beginning with the umbrella has already left. And here Noob is, struggling with a triangle and most likely the only one left with the easiest shape in the game. There’s just one final bit left…

 

10,

 

9,

 

8,

 

They’ve almost done it. They reach up and put pressure on the corner, trying to pry off the excess sugar cookie.

 

7,

 

6,

 

5,

 

It snaps, and Noob closes their eyes for a second, terrified just in case they see it broken in two.

 

4,

 

3,

 

2,

 

They open their eyes. A perfect triangle shape is sitting in their outstretched hand and they hurriedly show it to a guard.

 

1,

 

0.

 

“Player 006: Pass.” The intercom buzzes with the final pass of the game, “Your time is now up. All players who failed to complete their cookie in time are now eliminated.”
Noob lets out a breath they didn’t know they were holding and retrieves their jacket from the ground, shaking the sand from it as they walk down the pastel halls to reach the main room.

 

It’s different walking back alone. Everything feels so surreal and this is where Noob really realises just how alone they are in the game. Sure, they have a team, but what’s stopping them from turning on them just for some extra cash? They silently walk through the door held open by a guard and find their way to their team.

 

The group sits haphazardly on the top of one of the stacks of beds, and as Noob approaches they see Taph tap 1x and Shedletsky on the shoulders and point to them.

 

As they come down from the beds, the room is once again bathed in gold light and a sound akin to the insides of a casino plays as the raised piggybank is filled with even more money than before.

 

The number on the screen drops to 192.

 

Noob thinks back to all the people they left in the dalgona room after they passed the game, including more that died before due to cracking the cookie. All those people reduced to nothing but numbers; nothing but a stack of cash dropped into a glass pig.

 

Noob spaces out as they wait for this night’s vote to end, the numbers being called in reverse order meaning they have to wait an extra long time before being able to hit X again.

 

One by one, their groupmates leave to cast their votes and once again Noob is left alone. They cast a glance up at the score of the vote and it seems very close to the Xs winning it. If just a few more people vote X, then it would be a secured victory.

 

Noob snaps out of their trance as their number is called, walking forward unsteadily before hesitantly pressing the X button, being met with boos from the O side.

 

With only one more player voting - that being 001 - and her choosing O, the vote is split at an even 50/50.

 

96 players on each side.

 

There’s assorted murmuring on each side, everyone wondering what is going to happen. Will the games keep going? Will they only let the Xs back home and keep the rest? Does everyone leave?

 

A guard with a square mask steps forward, addressing the restless crowd.

 

“As the vote has ended in a tie, we will keep you all here overnight and recast the vote in the morning, in case any of you change your minds.”

 

They then step back and out of the room, leaving only a few circle guards manning the lines for dinner. Luckily, Noob and their group are near the front of a line and grab a small foil bundle before leaving to climb the bunk beds again.

 

As they open the foil wrap, they reveal a roll of sushi evenly cut up and ready to eat. How lovely.

 

Shed is the first to notice that something is wrong with the food - or more accurately what came with the food.

 

“Hey, I’m not amazing with this stuff, but you don’t need a fork to eat sushi, right?”

 

“I don’t think so,” Noob replies, holding up their own fork, “Why do you think they gave these to us then? A mistake maybe?”

 

“Okay, think.” says 1x, clearly already knowing what's going on, “What could a fork be used for other than eating?”

 

He makes a disappointed face at the blank stares and silence and points to the board, showing the voting results.

 

“ What do they want us to use the forks for, guys? ” he says as if addressing a trio of five year olds.

 

Taph makes a slight gasping sound, grabbing everyone’s attention before making a stabbing motion with his arm. 1x nods, and Noob feels a sense of dread wash over them.

 

There’s no escaping danger this time; there’s most likely not going to be anyone to save them but themself. There’s going to be a fight tonight and they don’t want to find themself in one of the pretty black coffins tied with a pink bow at the end.

 

The vote will not be equal by morning.

 

 

 

The lights turn off.

Notes:

thank you all for the support in chapter 1!!
i am going to be switching povs every chapter from now on, but there may be repeats of characters as everyone starts to die.
there's no art for this chapter rn, but i'll upload it when it's done.
byeeeee

Chapter 3: Panic! At the lights out!

Two Time is here for a single purpose.

 

The Spawn has blessed them with a golden opportunity: to bring hundreds of people into their arms as sacrifices and convert many to their beloved faith.

 

They refuse to waste that chance.

 

And now, with a pitch black hall and a sharp fork gripped tightly in their hands, they are ready to do whatever it takes to please their Spawn.

 

They were brought here for a reason, and the games ending early will surely make the Spawn disappointed in them for failing their task.

 

It’s no sacrificial dagger, but the silver fork will suffice.

 

Sneaking silently through the darkness, Two Time manages to find a small huddle of people - around two curled up in a corner. Stepping closer, they see that they both have an X marked on their uniform. Perfect.

 

Unfortunately for them, their face is now slightly illuminated by the glowing red X marked on the floor, and one of the two bolts. At the same time, Two Time lunges for the remaining X, grabbing their collar and pulling them down roughly to the floor.

 

They raise the fork, pointing it downwards at the man’s throat, but…

 

It might’ve been something about the look in his eyes, or the way his hair fell over his face or the way he barely struggled, but it reminded Two Time too much of someone they had killed before.

 

Someone very, very important to them. Someone who-

 

Two Time is shoved harshly to the floor, forcing them to let go of the man and almost discard their fork. No! There’s no time to think about Azure now. They’re gone. They are with the Spawn now, to grant Two Time a second life.

 

Wallowing in grief and despair now will only displease the Spawn and cause them to let people go. To fail their Spawn again. They can’t do that or it will all have been for nothing!

 

In the corner of their eye, Two Time spots a small huddle of people far on the X side. Four of them, to be exact. The tallest of the four seems to say something to the others before running off to the other side, leaving the three defenceless. 

 

Another leaves for where the bathrooms are - Two Time will remember to check that later - and the two remaining look relatively weak. One has a bandana over his head as a makeshift hood, meaning Two Time can’t see his face to judge his expression. However, the other, a thin person with short-ish yellow hair, looks absolutely terrified.

 

Two Time wants to tell them that it will be okay in the end; they want to tell them that it will be over soon and they will see the Spawn in the afterlife.

 

Instead, they prowl over to where they are sure not to see them and sneak up behind them. They grab the person’s collar and yank at it, making them lose their balance. The person’s dark eyes shine with terror as they shake on the floor, and Two Time mutters a short prayer to the Spawn before raising the fork high in the air.

 

They would’ve brought it down quickly. Painlessly. Instead, their wrist is grasped firmly as they let their arm fall, making them miss the stab. It grazes their sacrifice’s cheek, drawing blood as the person cries.

 

Snapping their head back to see who stopped them, Two Time sees the hooded man from earlier who, surprisingly, is decently strong.

 

They wrench their arm from his grasp, forgetting about their previous victim for a split second. Which is all the person needs to run away. The loud sound of heavy breathing and rapid footsteps from behind them notifies Two Time that they are gone, leaving all of their attention on the hooded figure.

 

The man is distracted for a second, waving frantically to their tall teammate from earlier, and Two Time takes full advantage of their diversion, lunging forward and sinking the fork into the person’s chest.

 

He stumbles back, gasping as blood spurts from his chest. The taller man sees this and runs over, tackling Two Time to the ground.

 

A large, clawed hand pins Two Time’s hand above their head, stopping them from attempting another stab. They catch a glance of the player’s number - 141 - and mutter out a small curse before addressing him directly.

 

“Player 141, may the Spawn curse you for stopping Their divine will.”

“What in the world are you on about?”

 

Of course he responds with blasphemy. The Spawn will surely make him repent in the future. Fortunately, the hooded man from earlier whom Two Time noted as ‘Taph’ from the yellow-haired person’s shout, has collapsed on the floor. 141 has turned to look at his almost unmoving body and Two Time uses his distraction to squirm away from him and drive the fork into his shoulder.

 

They slide over to Taph, rolling him onto his back and placing one knee on his chest as he gasps, dark blood soaking Two Time’s trousers. They raise the fork high and thank Spawn for the wonderful sacrifice before letting their arms fall, the fork finding a home in Taph’s neck.

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

007n7 stands in the corner, shaking horrifically.

 

Oh god, why has he gotten himself into his mess? Blood has already been painted over the walls near him and all he hears are screams as people ruthlessly attack each other to clear the vote.

 

He takes a shaky breath to clear his mind. He’s doing this for his son. C00lkidd means everything to him and he needs this money if he has any chance of caring for him.

 

He almost gave up once. This is his second chance - his chance to prove that he deserves to have a son.

 

Someone grabs his shoulder firmly, snapping him out of his thoughts. Chance stands next to him, smirking as always. Elliot is next to him, haphazardly attempting to juggle both of their forks and failing miserably.

 

“What are you waiting for? Guest’s already gone off on his own and me and Elliot can’t leave ya here!”

 

“Why not?” 007n7 responds, clearly wanting to curl up in a corner and cry.

 

“‘Cause Guest will probably get mad at us if he comes back and you’re dead,” Elliot interjects, “Also, we need the extra O vote.”

Even without being able to see through the sunglasses, 007n7 can tell that Chance just rolled his eyes. He swears under his breath as he hears a scream from across the room and starts to pull N7 with him and Elliot to the other side of the hall.

 

However, before they’re able to make it over, a stack of beds crashes down in front of them and a group of terrified Xs clamber over the wreckage, clearly just having escaped from a team of Os.

 

“Jackpot. C’mon!”

 

Chance grabs Elliot’s hand and the two rush after the escapees, leaving 007n7 alone in the middle of a pitch-black brawl armed with nothing but a fork.

 

He makes his way silently over to nearer the bathrooms, checking that he isn’t being followed before slipping inside, running through a narrow pastel hallway before diving into the men’s bathrooms.

 

And instantly wishes he didn’t.

 

At least three bodies lie on the floor, surrounded by pools of their own blood. One lies half face-down with a fork still buried in his throat. All around, people are fighting viciously, teeth to nails to neck to fork.

 

Guest is among them, attempting to drag a cat-like man with greasy hair off of him. 007n7 spots him and runs over as fast as he can without slipping in blood that has already saturated his shoes.

 

That is, he was running towards Guest. He was , until he found himself being smacked right in the face with a urinal divider. Hard.

 

It would be comical if it weren’t so painful.

 

He hits the ground as the wind is knocked out of him. Someone climbs on top of him, knee digging into his chest. He reaches to his side for his glasses which somehow found their way onto the floor in the commotion, pink edges making them easy to find.

 

The person raises their fork above their head with a sick grin, and 007n7 feels his stomach drop as he realises this is where he dies. In some random place with some random people. Insignificantly. And he’ll never see his son again.

 

He closes his eyes and tries not to cry right there. It seems to be taking a while before the impact, and he wonders if the guy is just hesitating or trying to toy with him.

 

The pressure lifts from his chest and a yelp comes from the guy previously pinning him down. 007n7 cautiously opens his eyes to see Guest 1337 holding the guy off the ground.

 

The other man manages to squirm out of his grasp and makes a feeble attempt to attack him before being roughly shoved against a wall. This continues for a few minutes more - the guy makes attempts to attack or escape and again, Guest throws him back.

 

It only ends when the guy steps too far, slipping in a pool of blood and pushing into Guest on his way down, leading to Guest shoving the man away and into one of the mirrors on the wall, shattering it.

 

The guy hits the edge of the sink as he falls to the floor, and as soon as he hits the slippery tiles N7 can see that he’s gone completely limp. With blood leaking from his head and evidently not breathing, it’s no surprise that he’s dead.

 

007n7’s hand is grabbed and he’s hoisted upright, coming face to face with a tired, bruised Guest. It doesn’t look like he’s had a good night. Dried blood spatters over his face and he seems as if he’s aged about a decade from the beginning of the night.

 

“Are you okay?”

Is the only thing 007n7 manages to hear through the ringing in his ears and his own heavy breathing. He shakily nods, still trembling from the ordeal.

 

Chance’s luck must be rubbing off on him though, as not 30 seconds later four pink guards storm the bathroom, guns pointed at every survivor of the fight.

They lead everyone out and into the now lit bed hall, where many of their teammates are waiting. The walk back seems to go by in a blur for N7 and he doesn’t register that he’s safe until he’s sitting on one of the beds. A square masked guard calls out that for the rest of the night, player violence is prohibited, leaving everyone to get some well-needed rest.

 

In the few minutes before the lights turn back out, 007n7 surveys the damage done in the hall.

 

Pools of blood with streaks across the floor clearly indicate where someone was killed, and many people - mostly from the O team - look annoyed and even disappointed that they aren’t allowed to fight anymore.

 

In one corner of the X side, a small trio huddle: one sitting down looking dejected while one comforts what looks like a small pile of tracksuit on the floor that upon further inspection is someone curled up in a ball crying. The taller one looks to have just laid his jacket over the crying figure in an attempt to make them feel better, most likely about a teammate’s death.

 

In a different area of the O side, a lone figure sits at the top of a stack of beds with their head down and hands clasped. They look to be praying to some deity, and their bony tail sways gently behind them, stilling as they end up falling asleep with their head between their knees.

 

Chance and Elliot sit side by side, muttering excitedly about the night and still breathing heavily from the adrenaline. They seem to be mostly unharmed; only Chance looks mildly hurt with a split lip and Elliot seems perfectly fine, if a little shaky.

 

The lights turn off once more, and even though he wasn’t expecting to, 007n7 finds himself drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

Notes:

well that went well

bit of a ramp up from the last chapters - sorry if the fight scenes seemed a bit off, I don't write them a whole lot.

sorry Taph fans

also first time with a dual pov, do you guys think it turned out better or worse than single povs?

Chapter 4: Ring Around The Rosie

Elliot wakes up to the sound of classical music and the smell of blood.

 

He sits up, stretching, then proceeds to not so gently shake Chance’s shoulder to wake him up. New day, new game, and he knows Chance shares his excitement about them.

 

He rolls his eyes at the ‘Five more minutes’ that Chance grumbles out and yanks him to his feet, smiling at his annoyed yet still pretty face.

 

As he drags the other man towards the breakfast line, he waves at Guest who already seems to be awake then pokes 007n7 between his ribs with his foot to get him up.

 

He grabs a small box containing breakfast and a glass bottle of bloxy cola before heading back to base to eat. On his way back, Chance taps his arm, diverting his attention to a yellow-haired person on the X team downing the cola like today is his last day alive. 

 

I mean, it could be.

 

After sitting down and chatting with his group - mostly Chance - many guards come through the main door. More than usual.

 

Understandable, since they probably witnessed everyone going after each other like rabid animals at a fresh bit of meat, including Elliot.

 

At least four players fell at his feet last night, and Chance managed to snag about the same amount. Their blood is still staining their shirts.

 

If there was any doubt about the voting before, there’s none now. The O team clearly outnumber the stragglers on the X side, and more of them will surely switch their votes purely out of fear.

 

The show must go on.

 

The guards announce a redo of the vote and the players begin, going in a backwards numerical order.

 

Out of the team, Elliot goes first, nonchalantly pressing the O button and retaking his place on the blue side as the high pitched beep rings through the hall.

 

Guest goes next, and he hesitates for a long moment before slowly pressing blue.

 

Chance is next to step up to the platform and like Elliot, he doesn’t pause for a second before slamming his fist down on the blue button, walking back over to the team and standing back beside Elliot, leaning slightly on the shorter man’s shoulder.

 

Right before 007n7 walks up, Elliot places his hand on his shoulder.

 

“Hey, if you go up there, press O, and keep doing what we want here, I might just forgive you for what you did.”

 

“Ya really gonna forgive him?” Chance leans in and whispers as N7 walks off, “I thought you hated the guy.”

“Oh, yeah. I lied.” Elliot replies with a scoff, “But it means that he stays here, right where I want him. Then, he can’t do anything-”

 

Elliot is interrupted by a loud, low pitched buzz. He glares at the voting platform as 007n7 replaces his blue patch with a red one and walks over to the red side.

 

That little shit.

 

He won’t forget that.

 

With only two more voters - 006 and 001 - the vote ends and the tally shows a clear O victory.

 

63 Xs, 87 Os.

 

Damn. Last night had more of an impact than Elliot expected, especially with quite a few people switching votes. Not that he’s complaining.

 

Soon after, the guards lead them out of the hall with the promise of a new game, and Elliot can’t help but feel the small buzz of excitement as he climbs the colourful stairs to the game room.

 

Chance grabs his hand from behind and leans as far forward as he can without falling.

 

“What do you think the game’s gonna be?”

“No idea,” Elliot whispers back, “But we’re gonna win.”

 

They laugh to themselves as they eventually make their way over to the large set of double doors, waiting expectantly for them to open.

 

When they slowly creak open, Elliot steps into a massive circular room with numbered doors evenly spaced out around the wall. 50 rooms.

 

In the centre of the room is what looks like a carousel, but if you took all the horses off the main bit and put them on the top. Three circling model horses adorn the top of a cylinder in the middle, and around it is a large orange platform, also circular.

 

“Players. The game you will be playing today is Mingle. Everyone please step onto the platform. When it stops spinning, a number will be called out. Get into groups of that number and enter a room within the time limit, or you will be eliminated.”

 

Elliot and Chance exchange glances, both clearly excited. He doesn’t know about Chance, but Elliot played this game all the time as a child. He was pretty sociable when he was smaller and would always find people willing to join his group.

“We stick together, ‘k?”

 

Chance nods and they both step onto the round platform along with Guest, who Elliot genuinely almost forgot about despite him being there the whole time.

 

Suddenly, the lights in the room are turned off save for the ones on the carousel floor, and it begins to slowly spin as an upbeat children's song plays.

 

It’s surprisingly catchy and repetitive, and soon Elliot finds himself humming along as Chance starts moving his head in time to the beat.

 

All good things must come to an end, however, and the platform stops suddenly, throwing them off balance. The voice comes back over the speakers, loudly announcing “4 players!” over the commotion.

 

Elliot quickly grabs Guest’s sleeve and throws his arm around Chance, starting to run towards an open room before the realisation hits him properly.

 

007n7 isn’t with them anymore.

 

“I-I’ll be right back!”

 

He hurriedly yells, pushing the two towards the room as he scans the room for any loners. Chance’s luck must be rubbing off on him, as he finds one almost immediately.

 

The person makes a startled yelping sound as Elliot grabs them and drags them towards the room, throwing them inside and slamming the door as the timer reaches zero.

 

A satisfying click sound signals the door locking and screaming from outside accompanied with gunshots.

 

The attention turns to the person in the middle, who is standing with their hands clasped, shaking slightly. Their hair is pitch black and messy, as if they had a bad haircut and nobody has dared to fix it - or wash it.

 

“Oh, praise the Spawn as They have granted me a saviour!” The person says, turning to Elliot, “May the Spawn bless you for saving my life - although I would have been granted another.”

 

Elliot nods awkwardly, thinking to himself that this person is a total weirdo and is almost definitely in a cult.

 

The door lock clicks open once more and everyone steps out, this time taking their places near the center of the platform. The music starts once more, and as the platform spins, Chance taps Elliot on the shoulder.

 

He looks over to see his outstretched hand and when he takes it, he slots his arm through Elliot’s and starts to spin slightly.

 

And when someone that Elliot trusts, and is smart, - and don’t tell him this, but he is rather pretty - offers to dance, who is he to refuse?

 

They start to spin about, waving their hands that aren’t lined together as if this truly was a children' s game and there isn’t blood on the floor. The absurdity and excitement of it all draws a borderline manic laugh from Elliot’s mouth that Chance joins him in.

 

Yeah. This is an ally - no, Friend - to keep.

 

The platform stutters to a stop and the voice comes over the intercom again.

 

“Eight players!”

 

Instant panic. Screaming fills the room as people scramble to find a group big enough. Guest has already managed to grab a lone player - player 001 - and Chance is yelling for a small trio of Xs to join them.

 

As they begin running, Elliot looks behind him and sees a familiar face also trying his best to get over to the near complete group.

 

007n7.

 

Oh hell no. Elliot’s not going to save this guy’s life, especially after he not only burned his workplace to the ground, but betrayed his team within the game.

 

Most of the people are already in the room and Elliot desperately looks for someone, anyone else to take 007n7’s place.

 

The cultist stands temptingly close, staring into space.

 

Adrenaline pulses through Elliot’s body as he sprints forward, grabbing the person’s arm and dragging them over.

 

“C’mon! We need one more!”

 

He pulls the person into the open door, not so subtly pushing 007n7 out of the way as they both barrel inside. N7 pounds on the door, pleading as the timer finally hits zero.

 

The door locks shut.

Notes:

Shorter chapter this time!

Do you guys like the long chapters or two-parters like this one?

7's getting his unnie moment trust

Chapter 5: Pocket Full of Posies

Shedletsky is roughly pushed into a corner as everyone tries to regain their personal space.

 

He looks past the pile of bodies in front of him to see a pair of eyes looking desperately through the door, glasses fogged with tears.

 

He recognises the guy - 007n7, some hacker he almost banned back in the day. Doesn’t he have a kid now? Why’s he here?

 

“Please! Please do something, I don’t want to die like this!”

7’s openly sobbing and Shed looks around the room for anyone taking pity. In the corner stands the yellow-haired man who dragged in their last player, looking at the door with a cold stare.

 

Did he… push him out?

 

Surprisingly, 1x1x1x1 is the one to step in front of the door to talk to the guy. Strange. Shedletsky was convinced the man couldn’t feel sympathy.

 

“Hey, listen. It’s gonna be okay.”

“No! It isn’t! I have- I have to get back to my son! He’ll- what’s going to happen to him if I die?”

 

“Look, who’s your son? If… when I get outta here, I’ll make sure he’s okay. Good?”

007n7 nods, sniffling. It’s strange just how much emotion he’s showing through just his eyes. Shed can’t help but feel awful for the man. He has someone back home as well.

 

His wife…

 

Brighteyes, along with multiple other admins - even Builderman himself - had completely disappeared a week before the games. Shedletsky took the risk to come here on the chance that he would find them. Unfortunately, he was almost definitely wrong about where they were.

 

Even worse, 1x seems to have followed him here. He swears that if they didn’t have Noob in their team for 1x to focus on, Shed would be long gone.

 

Shedletsky zones back in to hear 007n7 frantically apologising from outside the door as if that will change his fate. 1x stands slightly to the side now, repeating that he’ll take care of his son - C00lkidd. Shed knew he was familiar - when he escapes.

 

If.

 

If they all get out.

 

One gunshot rings out louder than the rest, and a choked gasp escapes 007n7’s throat. The light from his eyes seems to die along with him as he slowly falls, the quiet sound of shattering glasses prominent in the silent room.

He swears he sees the yellow haired man smirk.

 

After a few moments, the door opens again and the scene before them is even more brutal than the first round.

 

Blood stains everywhere. The air tastes and smells metallic and Noob looks like they’re about to throw up.

 

The group splits up silently, but the trio lags behind as 1x stoops down to collect the dead man’s glasses. The pink-rimmed glasses are almost completely covered in blood and shattered beyond belief; wiping them clean seems like it would be a nightmare.

 

They take their places on the platform again as it starts to spin, the song sounding less cheerful even though it’s the same track. Less like a children’s song and more like a taunt.

 

Look what we did. We’ve killed innocent people and we’re going to sing about it.

 

It stops sooner than usual this time, and the struggle to find a group starts even before the intercom calls out “2 players!”.

 

Immediately, Shedletsky is shoved aside by 1x as he grabs Noob and dashes towards an empty room.

 

Great.

 

Not wanting to end up like 007n7, Shedletsky looks around desperately for anyone who doesn’t have a team.

 

Luckily, he spots the blue-haired man from the group of eight, whose other teammates seem to have split off without him.

 

Shed runs up to him and grabs his arm. Getting the message instantly, the other man runs alongside him and manages to push someone aside to get in the room.

 

Shed holds the door shut as the woman bangs on the door, trying to pry it open. That’s weird… why would someone want to get in a room alone?

 

The sound of a struggle behind him answers the question, and he turns his head to see the blue haired man fighting someone else who had managed to get in.

 

The timer ticks down dangerously low, and Shed screws his eyes shut in preparation for the timer to end and for them all to be killed.

 

There’s a snapping sound right before the lock clicks shut.

 

The gunshots never come.

 

Shed opens his eyes cautiously to see the person who snuck in on the floor. Dead.

 

The blue haired man extends a shaking hand to him,

 

“I’m Guest, by the way. My group was in the room with you last time. The guy with the sunglasses is Chance, the shorter one is Elliot.”

“My name’s Shedletsky.”

The conversation doesn’t get further than that before the door opens again and a guard enters, pushing the two out to join the crowd of survivors.

 

Exactly 100 players survived.

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

Guest rejoins his group as everyone emerges into the main hall, unsurprised to find them happily chatting as if almost 100 people hadn’t just died in front of them.

 

He stays silent as he sits next to them, still reeling from the last grouping.

 

Had he really done that?

 

It wasn’t even thought out. It just happened . The guy tried to kill him and Guest only eliminated him in self defense. Right?

 

It wasn’t done just to make sure he and Shedletsky weren’t killed there.

 

It wasn’t.

 

Was it?

 

Chance looks over to him with a smirk,

 

“You good? You’re lookin’ a little… spacey.”

 

There’s a long pause as Guest figures out what to say.

 

“I killed someone in there. I had to.”

He says quietly, not wanting to believe it himself. Instead of responding to what he said, however, Elliot looks past him at something.

 

Someone?

 

“You, uh, got a shadow there. Two shadows, I think.”

 

Guest turns around to see both Shedletsky and 001 standing awkwardly behind him like little kids telling their mum they threw up.

 

Shed is the first to speak,

 

“Hey, we were wondering if we could maybe join you guys? One of my groupmates has wanted me dead from the beginning and I don’t think Jane has had a group at all.”

The trio looks at each other for a moment before beckoning over the two. Sure, they did lose a teammate - ex teammate - in Mingle, but two more would be better. Guest figures that Chance and Elliot are going to pressure Shedletsky to change his vote, though.

 

They go through basic introductions - names, why they’re here - but Jane seems hesitant to explain her reason for being here.

 

Eventually, she speaks up.

 

“Well, it’s going to sound weird when I tell you this, but let me explain why I’m even here.”

 

“Go on then!” Elliot interrupts, “It can’t be that bad, right?”

 

“The truth is…”

 

Jane takes a deep breath.

 

“I’ve played these games before.”

Notes:

how we feeling

also SHE'S PLAYED THESE GAMES BEFORE

so n7's dead yay ig if ur elliot

Chapter 6: Ashes, Ashes

Jane’s been here before.

 

The first time she played was last year. She and her husband, John Doe, had entered the game to try and pay off their mountain of debt gained from rumours about John and him hacking.

 

001 and 002. Even their numbers matched.

 

However, the games went sour when they managed to convince the majority of their X side to ‘rebel’ and take over the games from the inside.

 

They failed.

 

So, so many people died. Died because of her.

 

And John…

 

She remembers being shot in the side and collapsing to the floor, watching helplessly as a man dressed in all black took her husband away.

 

When she returned to the main hall injured, he was nowhere to be seen.

 

The games continued after that, the fifth game being a horrific version of jumprope. Not many survived, only three players making it to the final round.

 

She remembers going back to the Red Light, Green Light arena in a suit, squid game symbols drawn into the sand in crude chalk.

 

It was her against two people. Two people who genuinely wanted the game to continue. Who wanted to win .

 

And with shaking, sweaty hands and a steak knife, she killed them both.

 

She won, but at what cost?

 

The only reason she’s back is to learn where and why they took her husband. Why didn't they just kill him in front of her like they did everyone else in their rebellion?

 

It feels wrong to have voted O this entire time when last time they were both dead set on leaving. It feels wrong to disregard the lives of every other player just to find out what happened to her husband.

 

However, it would be too risky to vote X, especially with the bloodbath that happened last night. Hell, two of her new teammates were some of the ones going on a killing spree. What if one of their targets had been her?

 

She’ll never find John again if everyone leaves now.

 

It’s fruitless, really. Even though it’s likely that he’s already dead, or worse, being made to work for the games, there’s a tiny sliver of hope left in Jane’s heart that if she just keeps playing, she’ll find him.

 

Then they’ll leave this hellhole for good and return to their normal lives. Plus, her winnings from the last game will be enough to keep them going for most of the rest of their lives.

 

They can be happy again.

 

And if these people need to die for her to keep going, for her to find him , then so be it.

 

She’s going to see him again.

 

No matter the cost.

Notes:

very short but the doe needs a backstory

a lot of you aren't very happy with elliot rn

he and chance are gonna have a lot of fun next game tho :)

would you rather they go on a killing spree or make out in one of the random rooms /j

Chapter 7: They All Fall Down

1x1x1x1 lies awake in his bed, barely having slept.

 

Loud classical music plays from speakers overridden with static, waking the majority of the remaining players.

 

He looks to his side where Noob is still curled up next to him, holding onto him like a lifeline, and wonders how on earth they can sleep through all that.

 

1x starts to look over to his other side, before realising that Shedletsky had abandoned the group. Most likely for the better.

 

Oh well, it’s not like he liked the guy anyway. If he dies in the next game he really wouldn’t care - in fact, he’d celebrate. What’s worrying him is that Noob might.

 

They seem to actually care about everyone here, despite the rest of the players actively trying to murder them.

 

Why? 1x would mow down the opposition in a heartbeat to save himself and Noob, while they would try their best to talk it out. They’d be hopeless in a fight.

 

Guards filter out of the elevator and into the main room, bringing breakfast with them. 1x sits up and goes to leave, stirring Noob awake who follows slowly after him.

 

Unfortunately for them both, Shedletsky ends up in the same line as them. Right in front of them, in fact. Before he can walk up to collect his food, 1x grabs his shoulder roughly, digging his claws into his shoulder. He pulls Shed out of the line, gesturing to Noob to stay where they are.

 

“What the hell are you thinking?” 1x practically growls, grabbing the O patch on Shed’s tracksuit, “I thought you wanted to leave this shithole, not stay .”

 

“Well, I don’t have a death wish, for one. If I keep voting X, I’m gonna get stabbed in my sleep. Plus, I’ve found a new team that doesn’t want me dead, unlike you. The only reason you came here in the first place is to kill me, isn’t it?”

 

“Fine. Yes. I followed you here for that. But now, my priority is getting out . I refuse to die because of a stupid children’s game.”

 

Shed pushes 1x off of him and walks to the opposite line, trying to avoid him. 1x rejoins Noob, who managed to grab two of whatever they served and hands a portion to him with a smile.

 

The kind gesture makes a dent in 1x’s souring mood, and he sits in silence with Noob until a different set of guards come through the doors to lead them all to the next game.

 

It’s most likely going to be a team game, 1x theorises, as there are 100 players left and this is game four out of six, the last is probably going to be a finale with barely any people and game five is most likely going to be the most deadly of the main games.

 

With that many still alive, it makes sense that at least half would die in the next game.

 

The players are led through an ominous knife-shaped walkway - that can’t be good - and into a decently sized room with what looks like an oversized gumball machine in the centre.

 

Inside the gumball machine are what looks like 100 coloured balls, either red or blue with what looks like an even ratio between them.

 

As the players survey the room and many find a seat along dents in the wall, the uncannily cheerful voice echoes through the room once more.

 

“Players. Please form a line and take a ball from the machine, then take your place with your assigned team. The rules will be explained more thoroughly afterwards.”

 

Simple. A 50/50 chance of being in the blue or red team. If only 1x knew what they were for…

 

He gently holds onto Noob’s shoulder to lead them towards the front of the line, where they watch as about a quarter of the players take their assigned colours and split into two groups: red on the left, blue on the right.

 

1x approaches the machine first, turning the crank on the gumball machine and a bright blue ball rolling out. He takes it and walks over to the blue team, watching Noob as they do the same thing.

 

Red.

 

Oh no. Oh, that’s really, really not good. If this game is one where all of one team dies then there’s no way he can protect Noob.

 

He’s snapped out of feeling sorry for himself when the last player turns the crank and a red ball falls out. The voice crackles back over the intercom, upbeat as ever.

 

“Players. The next game is Hide and Seek. The blue team is being tasked to either escape the arena, or survive for one hour. They will each be given something to assist them.”

As that’s being said, a circle guard wheels over a trolley stacked to the brim with blue boxes. 1x takes one and opens it, being met with a small, shining key along with a blue vest.

 

Simple, he thinks. The blues get a key to open doors with and hide from something. But then, what do the reds do?

 

“Each player on the red team must find and eliminate at least one player from the blue team in the time allotted. Failure to do so will result in elimination. You will each be given something to assist in that also.”

 

Well shit.

 

1x watches Noob’s shaking hands as they open their red box and pulls out a lethal looking knife.

 

 

“You will be given ten minutes to swap teams with another player if you wish. After this time, you will not be allowed to swap teams for the rest of the game.”

 

Yes! He has a chance!

 

As soon as the announcement ends, 1x rushes over to Noob, ushering them both over to the wall.

 

“Swap with me. I know you can’t kill anyone and I know I can. Look, I’ll find you in there and make sure nobody else can get to you, then I’ll get someone. You’ll be fine.”

 

It looks as if Noob had made up their mind before 1x even spoke to them though, and they instantly give their box to him while desperately tugging off the red vest they were given.

 

They swap, then examine who ended up where.

 

Luckily, Shedletsky ended up on the blue team, so 1x already has his target for the game. Shed catches his eye and quickly looks away at any reds willing to swap with him. Death stares must not be his thing.

 

The cultist from Mingle ended up on the blue team - most likely for the best - and is sitting in a corner surrounded by three or four acolytes they managed to accumulate, all also blue.

 

The blue-haired man from Mingle seemed to be on the blue team until he swapped with 001, now being a red. Fair; he does seem like the type to be able to kill.

 

Shed’s other new teammates seem overly happy with their team, twirling their knives while chatting a bit too close to one another. 1x wouldn’t be surprised if they got their kills then spent the remaining time making out in a corner.

 

The ten minute timer ends, and the blue team lines up and is led through the other door, then being given five minutes headstart to hide.

 

1x hopes he finds Noob before anyone else does.

 

After a few minutes of waiting in silence, the red team grabs their knives and heads in a pack through the door, instantly in awe at the place.

 

It seems like a maze, with a cyan ceiling adorned with softly glowing white stars. There are multiple hallways and staircases leading off from the main room, and the reds take a moment to process the arena before realising the timer has already started.

 

This is what 1x has been waiting for. He’s done this before - hunting people down. It’s pleasantly familiar and he feels the adrenaline already beginning to seep into his system. Fear seems to radiate off the walls and he wastes no time ascending two staircases, knowing the blue team would try to get as far away from the starting zone as possible.

 

Almost immediately he sees a flash of blue retreating into a corridor and gives chase, both of their quick footsteps echoing through the narrow hallways.

 

The blue ends up cornered at a dead end, fumbling with their key in a door that doesn’t seem to like them for some reason. They turn around to see 1x walking slowly towards them, savouring the moment.

 

He steps forward, pressing the tip of the sharp blade against the person’s trembling throat before lunging forward and driving the knife through their neck in one swift move. They fall to the floor as blood spurts from the wound, staining the floor and 1x’s clothes as they go down.

 

“Player 354: eliminated. Player 141: pass.”

 

This is going to be fun.

 

The rules said at least one blue player. This means that 1x can still go after Shedletsky while looking for Noob.

 

He takes the key from around the corpse’s bloody neck and examines it, noting the square shape at the and not matching the triangle keyhole on the door.

 

Interesting. This likely means that each blue player got a different shape and they’ll have to group up to properly explore the place.

 

He slips the necklace the key is attached to around his neck and continues exploring the upper levels, eventually making it to a locked door with a square keyhole. He unlocks it and is just about to step through when he stops himself, almost falling down a very deep pit.

 

At the bottom is the same star pattern as the ceiling, and there seem to be other doors lining the walls of the drop, most likely leading to other floors or areas of the arena.

 

One of the doors is open, and 1x hears a gasp from it as the lone person standing in the doorway spots him.

 

It’s Shedletsky.

Notes:

1x be giving Shed gi-hun typa death stares

chance/elliot pov next chapter will they kiss?? tune in next week on saygex.fm to find out

im so sleep deprived yall

Chapter 8: The Hunt

Oh yes .

 

One floor below 1x1x1x1 is the person he intended to kill to pass the game. Well, it’s within  the rules to eliminate more than one blue player, so why not have some fun with Shedletsky.

 

He’s got almost an hour.

 

Shedletsky bolts away from the doorway at the same time as 1x and both of them sprint through the halls on their floor, passing multiple people on their way. 1x reaches the stairs first and almost falls down them but makes it to the bottom unscathed.

 

Shed’s been going in one big circle and he didn’t notice.

 

1x scours the lower floor, knowing that Shedletsky is hiding here somewhere. It won’t matter if he runs. With this much time, 1x is sure to catch up. Even if he doesn’t he’s already got his kill for the game; as soon as they shut the lights off in the main hall he’s going right back to stalking Shed.

 

It seems as if every corner Shedletsky takes, he sees 1x out of the corner of his eye. Behind that door. In that staircase. Behind him .

 

There’s no choice but to keep running. If he stops he’s dead and there’s no denying it.

 

He fumbles with his key at every door he finds, the triangle shape not matching any keyhole he finds. Luck is not on his side when he needs it most.

 

Fortunately, he hasn’t run into any other red players that would join in on the chase, but that’s irrelevant as long as he has 1x on his tail.

 

He’s seen what that man can do and it is not pretty.

 

 

1x turns every corner as quickly as he can, all previous goals obsolete as he follows this one trail.

 

He’s there.

 

Right in front of him. Unlocking a staircase door.

 

Silently, he creeps up behind Shed as he finally pries open the door and goes to run down the stairs.

 

A knife between the shoulderblades would be too easy.

 

Instead, he plants his hands firmly on Shed’s back and pushes as hard as he can, earning a scream from the man as he falls down the stairs, reaching the bottom in a crumpled, bloody heap.

 

He staggers to his feet, wiping the blood from his nose as 1x slowly descends the stairs, twirling his knife around his claw-like fingers as if this is all a game to him.

 

A twisted game of cat and mouse.

 

As much as he doesn’t want to, he has to give 1x what he wants. A chase.

 

He limps as fast as he can out of the door and through winding hallways, banging on every door he finds as 1x follows behind him, barely jogging and cackling maniacally.

 

After five minutes of Shedletsky’s futile attempts at an escape, he makes it to another one of the doors connecting to the drop.

 

Maybe… just maybe… he could push 1x in.

 

He stands with his back to the corner and raises his shaking fists into a defensive position. An admin - and a master swordfighter, no less - will not go down without a fight.

 

If only he had one of those knives.

 

1x lunges forward with a lethal stab, but Shed ducks and manages to land a brutal punch to his jaw, sending him staggering backwards, seething. 1x swipes at him with the knife again but the sloppy swings are easily dodged.

 

Shed is able to grab 1x’s hand that’s holding the knife and tugs downwards, sending them both crashing to the ground and battling for the knife in a pile reminiscent of fighting cats.

 

He manages to grab the knife and land a lucky shot above 1x’s eye, blood flowing into it and obscuring his vision. In a half-blind rage, 1x manages to grab Shed’s throat and pin him to the floor, wrenching the knife from his grip and pinning his arms down with his knees.

 

“ Fucker. ” He spits, “I’m going to enjoy this.”

 

He drags the tip of the blade over Shed’s neck, leaving a thin trail of blood behind him all while keeping a firm grip. The other man coughs, making 1x slip and nick the side of his neck slightly deeper.

 

Suddenly, Shed raises his arms and knees as high as he can with 1x’s weight on top of him, throwing him off balance. Catching his breath, Shed drags himself backwards and kicks as hard as he can, sending the other man dangerously close to the edge of the pit.

 

1x grabs the doorframe to steady himself and stop himself from falling, then claws at the end of Shed’s trousers to drag him closer, planting his knee on his chest and clawed hand underneath his chin, forcing him to look him in the eye.

 

Throughout this, Shedletsky tries his hardest to squirm out of his grasp, failing miserably but digging his nails into 1x’s wrists just enough to pis him off even more than he already was.

 

He’s had enough of this.

 

1x raises the knife high into the air with a steady hand and drives it down towards the shaking mess Shedletsky has been reduced to.

 

Right in the eye.

 

He barely registers the shaky sobs from behind him as he yanks the knife out, silently reveling in the gory sight. It’s only when he slips the knife back into his pocket and wipes some of the blood of his hands on his vest that he turns around.

 

The adrenaline leaves his body and he tenses up, wounds beginning to hurt . He raises his gore-stained hands shakily and breathes out a soft greeting.

 

Barely two metres in front of him is Noob, holding the end of their vest with trembling hands and tears pouring down their face. Every few seconds a quiet sob leaves their lips as they stare at the horrific mess in front of them.

 

1x tries to take a step forward but stops as soon as he sees Noob flinch backwards with a cry.

 

He takes a look behind him at Shedletsky’s body, all the glory seeping out of the bloody sight as he sees exactly what just happened. Wasn’t killing Shed meant to feel good? It’s what he’s wanted for ages, and now he’s finally done it. So why does he feel guilty? 

 

Noob sobs again, making him look back in front of him to see the one person who trusted him practically cowering away from him. Scared of him.

 

Oh, god.

 

What has he done?

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Chance rounds another corner, trying to keep up with the blue vest running for their life.

 

He’s closely tailed by Elliot, who somehow hasn’t broken a sweat after 15 minutes of running.

 

Finally, the blue ducks into a corridor that ends up being a dead end, and they can do nothing but plead for the two to not kill them. Both step forward and raise their knives before looking at each other, realising that one person dead means only one of them passes.

 

“Well, this is an… issue,” Chance eventually gets out, “We could - uh - rock, paper, scissors for it?”

 

“Nah, you take him.” Elliot responds with a shrug, “We’ll get another one for me to chase, plus, we’ve got tons of time.”

 

That’s fair. Chance steps forward, raising his knife and sinking it into the centre of the small man’s chest, blood staining his sleeve and part of his shirt as he collapses. He turns back to Elliot as the intercom announces “Player 212: eliminated. Player 077: pass.” and they walk past the body and back into the maze as if nothing happened.

 

Elliot suddenly stops in his tracks and runs back to the dead end, returning quickly with a bloodstained key in his hand. It has a circle shape on the end, so will be able to unlock about a third of the doors they’ve come across.

 

“Can’t have the hiders being the only ones with an advantage, can we?”

“We literally have knives.”

“I- yeah fair point.”

 

They trudge on for a little while with no luck finding blue players. They check every room with a circle lock and nobody seems to be hiding in them, so how come so few people are in the corridors?

 

They find their way to an unlocked door and slam it open to reveal a staircase. Ah. The blues are all on one of the higher levels of the maze. They go up the stairs and instantly run into a blue trying to run down the stairs. Elliot takes the lead and slashes at the woman’s legs as she turns and runs back up the stairs.

 

Chance follows behind him as he almost effortlessly catches up to the limping woman - damn, he’s fast - and stabs her. They’ve both passed the game.

 

They high-five and relax; now they have 40 minutes to explore the arena without worrying about being shot at the end. That is, until a scream echoes through the halls nearby. They don’t even have to discuss whether to go after it - they both just grab each other and run.

 

They end up face to face with Two Time - the cultist from Mingle had introduced themself while trying to convince them to swap teams - and three of their acolytes. Two Time gives them one glance before grabbing a follower and bolting with a muttered prayer, leaving two of them.

 

Elliot taps Chance of the shoulder and gestures to the left survivor before heading over to the right. There’s a moment of hesitation before Chance lunges for the person as they shout for Two Time to come back. It’s a little sad, to be honest, but why would you trust a literal cultist in a death game?

 

After wiping the blood from their knives and checking the timer - 20 minutes remaining - Elliot grabs his arm and half drags him through the halls, using the three keys they now have to open every door they find and check for other players.

 

So far, they’ve only run into red players mid panic attack as they can’t find any blues to eliminate.

Except for one room.

 

Jane stands backed into a corner, yelling at the two to stay back before they even open the door. She’s covered in blood that’s evidently not hers and is holding a knife she somehow got off a red player. As the two open the door, she relaxes but firmly tells them to “Go the hell away or other reds will find me.”

 

Safe to say they left her alone.

 

With only a few minutes left, the two duck inside a small room and Elliot kicks the door shut. It’s rather pretty to be honest, and Chance regrets not looking at the decorations before. The walls are painted to resemble the ocean and paper jellyfish and turtles are stuck to the walls along with chalk drawings and random words.

 

“Hey, random, but…” Elliot breaks the silence, “What colour are your eyes? You’ve always got those stupid sunglasses on; I don’t know how you even see through those things.”

“Oh- uh, they’re kinda light sensitive so…” Chance replies awkwardly, “The glasses also make me look cooler. I just keep ‘em out of habit.”

 

Elliot doesn’t seem satisfied with that answer, instead walking right up to Chance until they’re inches away from each other. He reaches a hand up and slips off the sunglasses with practically zero resistance from the other man.

 

Chance blinks, eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. Elliot struggles for a moment to make out the specks of gold hidden behind silver eyelashes, but when Chance’s eyes finally open properly he sits and stares for a moment in silent awe.

 

Pretty .

 

Elliot leans forward slightly closer, trying not to smile as he sees Chance’s face go noticeably redder than before. He’s kind of pressed up against the wall so there’s really not much room for him to move at all.

 

Why not? They’ll most likely die in these games anyway. What’s there to lose?

 

Elliot holds Chance’s face still in one hand, giving him practically no time to react or question anything before pulling him down for a quick kiss. It’s short but sweet, and is only interrupted when the game timer reaches zero and a triangle guard kicks open the door to the room.

 

After an incredibly embarrassing five seconds of Chance pushing Elliot off of him and Elliot fumbling to push the sunglasses back onto Chance’s face (both with their faces very red), they’re led out of the maze and back down the staircases to the main hall. 

 

It wasn’t planned at all, but it felt nice. They don’t talk at all until it’s time for food to be given out and another vote to be held, but there’s an unspoken agreement to stick together until the end, especially with them both voting O again and the total once more letting the O team win the vote.

 

And especially since not one, but two of their teammates didn’t return.

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Guest 1337 knows he’s going to die.

 

Why? Simple. It’s because he didn’t - couldn’t - kill another player in the game.

 

Surely he could’ve. Surely if he really tried, he could overpower almost anyone and win easily.

 

He did try.

 

Barely 20 minutes into the game, he already had someone cornered. He raised his knife, but hesitated. The woman he backed into a dead end was sobbing and quietly pleading for him to spare her. And he listened .

 

He shouldn’t have, but he let her go. She thanked him and promised to be careful, to not get caught again. And he stood there and let her walk away.

 

Switching teams with Jane at the beginning was a mistake. It’s just- he thought he could do it, and she said she would rather hide than kill more people. He should’ve teamed up with Chance and Elliot; they definitely would’ve convinced him to kill someone to pass.

 

The only reason he let that person go was because in that moment he thought of his wife. Daisy. What she would think if she saw him hurt someone innocent. What if she had been here with him? He very nearly told her to join the games too, before he knew what was going on. She wouldn’t have been a red, that’s for sure.

 

Guest’s time for hindsight is cut short, however, when the door to the room is kicked open by a triangle guard who looks as if they’ve had a bad day. Their uniform is slightly torn and bloodstained, and they take a second to tuck a strand of purple back inside their hood before raising their gun.

 

It only takes a second for the bullet to pierce through his chest, but a second is all he needs to regret every stupid decision that led him here.

 

“Player 137: eliminated.”

Notes:

so the only people who had a good time there was paycheck

but they KISSED! and it only took me 4 days to write it ik it's only 2 lines don't cook me T.T

and yeah shed and guest are dead now

what would the 1xnoob ship name actually be i haven't found one yet (cries in rarepair)

Chapter 9: V.I.P.

Brighteyes pushes a sobbing red vest off of her and shoots them between the eyes.

 

She straightens her mask and hood, then turns to the glitching mess of a guard next to her: Noli.

 

His hands are shaking violently while holding his gun and Bright genuinely can’t believe that he’s one of the best shots among them.

 

“That appears to be the last of the losing players.”

 

Dusekkar glides around the corner, adjusting his square mask that never really perfectly fits his pumpkin head. He leads both guards along with a few others sent to eliminate the failing players out of the arena, passing multiple corpses of blue vests that the circles haven’t cleared up yet.

 

She dreads the sight, even though she knows that Shedletsky is already dead. Bright can’t help but feel guilty for his death, even though she didn’t kill him. He only came to the games to find her, and now he’s gone. Forever.

 

The walk to the elevator is silent and grim, bloodied stones making the guards’ shoes squeak on the ruined floor.

 

They pile into the tiny room as it slowly ascends, leading them straight to the locker rooms and in Brighteyes, Noli and Dusekkar’s cases, to the Frontman’s office.

 

She never expected to be given this job, no less from an admin - The admin, even.

 

The elevator dings and the door opens, leading the three into a pristine black room. It’s surprisingly empty, and Bright looks to Dusekkar who presses a button, opening the far wall into a secret door to reveal a gorgeous monitoring room.

 

Five pristine velvet seats with their own themed decor surrounding them surround a stage. The wall above the stage is entirely made of glass and looks into the next game room. The Frontman himself sits to the side of the glass next to a control panel.

 

“Ah. I was wondering when you four would arrive.” The Frontman says, putting down his drink, “The V.I.P .s are arriving today and I wanted you all to be their escorts.”

 

As they’re wondering what he means by ‘four’, the secret door opens again and another square guard walks in awkwardly, looking like he doesn’t want to exist.

 

Some of the ‘decorations’ walk forward, and Brighteyes realises that they weren’t statues at all but masked people in black suits. They draw the curtains tightly over the massive glass wall, hiding the game room from view. The V.I.P.s want a surprise, most likely.

 

Dusekkar leads the two triangle guards out, leaving just the late square guard and the Frontman in the room alone.

 

“You should go with them.” says the Frontman, “Being constantly late to everything won’t do you much good.”

 

“I just want to know though,” the guard says, looking around before removing his mask and adjusting pink-rimmed glasses, “Why let me in as a guard? Why not just throw me into the games like you did my-”

 

“It creates interest , and some of the people coming here today need that. I’ve given you a chance to change; a chance to prove to me that you aren’t who you were before. You do want to still be there for your son, right?”

 

There’s a brief pause.

 

“Seven? Don’t tell me you want yourself and your kid to be banned?”

 

“I don’t. I’m only here because if I didn’t take up your offer, that’s what would happen. We’re different now. I’m different now. I don’t want him to be hurt because of who I was before."

“I suggest you keep doing as you’re told then.”

 

With that, 007n7 puts his mask back on and follows the other three guards out of the room. He’s lucky that he was given the position he requested - he’d never forgive himself for killing more people and being a circle guard meant endless abuse from the superiors.

 

He quickly catches up to the other three, only using a slight speed boost from the copy of the c00lGUI he got in here. His argument was that he couldn’t properly control the clone without it, but he really just wants to check up on the outside world.

 

He had left C00lkidd with his cousin, 118o8, and he had promised to be back in a week. As much as N7 doesn’t want to, he has to keep playing the admins’ game to make sure he doesn’t get his ass sent to the Banlands, same day delivery.

 

The tunnel to the V.I.P.s’ room is long and stifling and everyone walking through it is overheating horrifically, even more so for 007n7 as Noli insists on walking right beside him and is practically hanging onto his arm. Multi-million budget and they can’t invest in AC for their secret tunnels.

Eventually, they make it to the lavish room that the V.I.Ps are residing in for the moment and the temperature in the air drops ten degrees.

 

Five people sit around a table, each with golden animal masks hiding their features. A few stand out, such as a massive dark fur-clad figure with a bunny mask that looks tiny in comparison to his own long rabbit ears protruding from a black pinstriped fedora. His skin is mostly yellow, but fades to black as it reaches his claw-like fingers. A fox mask hides the face of the source of the cold air, frost crawling up the sides of the gold plates. A sharp crown made of unmelting ice sits atop his head, long golden hair falling below his shoulders. 

 

Another is extremely familiar to most of the group of guards, that being the large man in the corner with the same golden doe mask covering his face as the last few games. He was an… impromptu introduction to the cast of V.I.Ps after a particularly rebellious game last year. The Frontman never truly explained why he kept coming back, but they’re not here to question his motives. He’s always silent and polite and he’s never much of a bother.

 

The other two seem relatively… human, with a bird and lion mask respectively.

 

They rise from their seats as the guards enter the room, clearly having expected their arrival. A couple of them greet the guards but many stay silent as they follow the four back through the tunnel and into the Frontman’s office.

 

Once again, Dusekkar opens the secret door and the V.I.P.s make a comment on the ‘unique’ design of the viewing room. 

 

The masked servants take over from the guards, leading the V.I.P.s to their seats as they chatter on about which players they bet on and other rich people things.

 

The Frontman beckons over the guards, dismissing every one except Dusekkar, whom he pulls into a small side room. Dusekkar removes his mask but the other man stays covered.

 

“We have an issue.” The Frontman starts, “We made the wrong decision in not telling Shedletsky about these games.”

 

“Would it not have led to more strife? You must understand that he would have disagreed with the prospect of death for entertainment.”

 

“Even if he hadn’t joined us, it would’ve been better for him to know. The only reason he joined the games is because he was worried about us and now he’s dead. Because of us, Dusekkar.”

 

The mage falls silent as the Frontman sighs. He shouldn’t be blaming another person for the ordeal. Really, it was all his own fault for putting these damned games together.

 

He tells himself that it’s for safety.

 

If he and his crew were able to round up desperate people - hackers, exploiters, criminals, anyone - and get rid of them easily, the entire platform would be safer and one lucky person would have their life changed for the better. Not to mention the sponsors from the V.I.P.s and the profit the admins made to be able to put money towards the prize pool and paying every guard.

 

But now they had caught someone they trusted in their perfectly programmed trap and they had paid dearly.

 

With one final sigh, the Frontman removed his mask and hood, letting his grey hair fall to his shoulders and gesturing for Dusekkar to leave the room.

 

“I’m sorry, Builderman.” The mage says before stepping out, “We all could have done better.”

 

He’s met with silence as Builderman stands in the middle of the room for a while longer, collecting himself before going to face the V.I.P.s again.

Notes:

okay just saying because there was a comment lowkey predicting 007n7 returning: I planned every chapter out before starting to write ch1 I did not take ur idea.

I did have to pace around my room for a bit after reading it dw tho ily psychic commenter

so here we have lore before the next game (bc I don't want to write noob being sad)

byebye

Chapter 10: Don't Look Down!

Jane flinches awake at the sound of tinny music being blasted through speakers.

 

She takes another look around the much emptier room, heart sinking as she truly sees how few players survived Hide and Seek. She didn’t want to believe it when they announced the eliminations last night. She told herself that when she woke up, they would be back.

 

She was wrong.

 

Out of 100 players that went into the last game, only 21 remained.

 

Seventy-nine deaths - an odd number, which was surprising for Jane. What she thought would happen is however many blue players remained, the same amount of red players would die. Unfortunately, some red players - she glanced at Chance and Elliot, still curled up next to each other near her - decided to go on a whole killing spree, murdering more than one blue player therefore also other red players, not to mention red players not being able to find anyone to kill.

 

There’s no point in thinking about yesterday’s bloodbath; she had the next game to worry about, after all. She had already stopped hoping that she’d be playing a game she was already familiar with, instead just praying that it’s something somewhat survivable. 

 

She looks back to her considerably smaller group, forgetting for a second that they had lost Guest 1337 and Shedletsky during hide and seek. Elliot is still trying and failing to wake Chance up, so Jane decides to go up to the front and grab breakfast for all three of them. The guards never stopped them from taking more than their share, after all.

 

On the way, Jane sees one of the blue players from the last game that she thought would almost certainly die. Player 006. A decently young person no more than 5’3” with yellow skin and dyed streaks in their equally yellow hair. They look like they’ve been crying - maybe they lost someone during the last game.

 

It’s probably best not to bother them.

 

Jane collects the food and returns to an annoyed Elliot and a barely awake Chance, who both eat like they haven’t seen food in decades.

 

She looks over to the X side while eating, trying to spot the player from earlier. Eventually, she finds them perched at the top of one of the bunk beds, shakily eating while casting glances towards the corner of the room, where a dark figure with white hair sits in a corner, seemingly disassociating.

 

Maybe they were chased by him?

 

“Hey, guys?” Jane catches the attention of Chance and Elliot, “Do you think that person could be a new team member?”

She points to the scared player.

 

“Them? For what, cannon fodder?”

 

“Chance. Don’t be rude.” Elliot flicks his ear, “I’m sure we could take them on. Looks like they fell out with their old teammate too. Even better. They’re gonna be desperate for people to help them - I mean, do they seem like a fighter to you?”

 

“Ohhhhhh, you’re so smart, Elli! Jane, can you go grab them? You suggested it, after all.”

 

Jane nods and starts towards the other side of the room when the annoyingly cheery voice comes over the speakers again, telling the players to assemble for the next game.

 

Oh well. At least it saves her from walking the extra twenty steps.

 

She taps them on the shoulder as they go for the door, giving them a smile to show she isn’t trying to hurt them.

 

“Hey there, we saw that you were kind of alone after the last game. What’s your name?”

They look taken aback by the question, as if they weren’t expecting anyone with good intentions to talk to them.

 

“I-I’m Noob. Are you… asking if I want to join your team?”

The response is so quiet that Jane hardly hears it. She nods and Chance and Elliot appear from behind her on cue, flashing innocent smiles and waving. Noob takes a second, looking behind the trio at the figure approaching the opposite staircase before focusing on their new team again.

 

They follow the three up the stairs, having to stop a few times to catch their breath as the staircase seems to go on forever.

 

Eventually, the group joins the rest of the other players huddled in a pure white room with a dark, ornate door on one side.

 

Two guards flank the group, pushing them towards the game room as another two pull the doors open, revealing a very large red room.

 

The first thing people notice isn’t the scale of the room, but what reaches across the centre - well, where the centre would be if it wasn’t a massive, gaping hole in the floor.

 

Two rows of fragile-looking glass panels stretch over the pit. Sixteen per column.

 

The glass is obviously the main event, but what draws people to the inside of the room isn’t to look at the tiles as they reflect the multicoloured lighting, but to observe the deep pit.

 

A fall from that height would mean almost instant death, no doubt about it. A shudder runs through Jane as she imagines falling down there herself.

 

As soon as the last person steps into the room - the dark figure from earlier, who takes one look at the drop and nopes straight into a corner, staring at the wall - the doors slam shut and the speakers blare.

 

“Players. The game you will be playing today is Glass Bridge. You will have twenty minutes to cross the bridge to the other side. On every row, there is one tempered glass plate that can hold the weight of two people. The other plate is regular glass that will break immediately. Good luck.”

 

And with that, the digital timer on the far side of the room starts, slowly ticking down the seconds to who knows what.

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Oh absolutely not.

 

There is no way in hell that 1x is moving off of the main platform and risking that fall. He thought he escaped being this high up for the rest of his life, and even though the Heights were taller than this drop by a long shot, he still feels something almost entirely foreign stirring within him.

 

Fear.

 

He has barely felt this in years. Decades. Centuries, even.

 

Why now?

 

Why when his life is at stake? Why when the one person he had any trust in has left, probably for good? He’s already seen Noob’s new team and can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy that even though that annoying couple went on a massacre in the previous game, they somehow deserve Noob’s trust more than him.

 

He convinces himself to stand up again to take another peek over the edge.

 

Instant regret hits him, along with a wave of nausea and fear. That’s… a long way down. The checkerboard pattern on the floor only accentuates how high up it looks. Really, someone needs to fall down so he can use the body as an accurate scale.

 

The last time he’d been this high up…

 

He remembers it vividly. He was centuries younger than he is now, when his eye wasn’t scarred and his wings were still attached to his back. He had taken two painful hits from Telamon’s sword during ‘practice’, pathetically stumbling backwards and nearly falling over the too-high edge of the Heights. The only thing keeping him from falling to his death was one of Telamon’s talons piercing his collar, holding him up by a literal thread.

 

“You’ll need to be stronger than that worthless display if you want to survive up here. Next time, I won’t catch you.”

 

The worst part is that he still believes Telamon’s words: that he needs to be stronger so as to not be seen as worthless. He can’t be worthless. Practically the only thing he’s good at is fighting, and if he isn’t good at that, then what use is he?

 

He needs to stop feeling sorry for himself. It’s weak.

 

Muttering from his left makes him whip his head to the right, seeing the cultist - Two Time, he overhears - speaking in hushed tones to their newfound acolytes. They seem to be telling one of the followers to take the first step onto the bridge and to follow the “Spawn’s guidance”, whatever that is.

 

Miraculously, the follower falls for it, walking shakily up to the edge of the platform and removing their shoes. They clasp their hands together in silent prayer as everyone else falls silent, watching. Waiting for the inevitable shattering of glass and the accompanying screams.

 

Screams that never come.

 

The acolyte lands safely on the left panel, sighing in relief as the platform cheers. 1x knows better than to assume the cheers were out of genuine want for the person to succeed; they only gave that reaction now that they know this game could be possible to beat with the right amount of luck.

 

However, when Two Time nods to them and they leap for the left panel yet again, they don’t land safely.

 

For a split second, they land on the glass. They are safe.

 

But only for a second.

 

Without warning, the glass panel shatters into hundreds of sharp shards, slicing tiny, shallow cuts into the acolyte’s skin as they plummet to the checkered floor with a blood-curdling scream that’s cut short by the muffled crunching sound of a body hitting the floor.

 

“Player 067: eliminated.”

 

Gasps of horror and surprise ripple through the crowd along with a quiet sob as the stakes of the game are officially revealed. One unlucky mistake means instant death.

 

If there was little to no chance 1x was taking one foot off of the starting platform before, he sure as hell isn’t leaving it now.

 

That is, until other players notice the ticking timer and decide to take a literal leap of faith, guessing platforms left and right. Soon, a short path is formed, with four panels revealed as safe one way or another.

 

Maybe…

 

1x is snapped out of his thoughts by a far too gentle touch to his hand, recoiling and glaring daggers at the offender, only to immediately soften his gaze and relax a bit.

 

Noob stands beside him with their hand still outstretched and that kicked puppy look in their eyes that makes 1x want to do whatever they ask him to. Why are they here? He thought they didn’t want anything to do with him after they watched him maul Shedletsky.

 

“You look… scared. Is it the height?”

 

No. 1x was absolutely not scared of heights. They just so happen to bring back bad memories which make him want to avoid being near any drop he can’t safely jump from. It’s not really fear. Just extreme anxiety and discomfort. No way.

 

“No.” He answers far too quickly, “Pfft, I’m not scared, why- why would you think that?”

 

Noob almost instantly catches the obvious lie and takes 1x’s hand back into their own.

“I don’t like it either. I don’t want to fall down there.” They tighten their grip slightly, “We can go together.”

 

“I told you, I’m not scared-”

“For me, then. I’m scared.”

 

Ignoring the teasing “Oooooh!” from the annoying grey one, 1x sighs and agrees to go together. The announcer did say that the glass can take two people, after all.

Together, they step on the first safe panel.

Notes:

I'm so sorry this took so long!
School recently started so new updates might take longer but I'm still working on this! Also I wanted to get this chapter out before ao3 shuts down tomorrow (D:)
Anyway...
Thank you for almost 2k reads!
I'll be sure to thank you all with more paycheck yaoi with sprinkles of 1xnoob (still don't have a name for these guys)
We're almost at the finale though, so don't get too comfortable with your favourites still being alive - or not. Sorry Taph fans.