Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S4 Ep186: Episode 186: Deadly Game Horror Stories

Episode Date: September 26, 2024

We start proceedings this evening with ‘We Played a Game in a Mirror…’ by the wonderfully talented Yung Seti, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all: https://www.reddit.com/user/YungSeti/ https://www.reddit.com/r/DrCreepensVault/comments/xq92tn/we_played_a_game_in_a_mirror_and_something_was/  Next, we have ‘The ‘Fear Itself’ Game’ by the wonderfully talented Corpse Child, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all: https://www.reddit.com/u/Corpse_Child/ https://www.reddit.com/r/DrCreepensVault/comments/wccw38/the_fear_itself_game_part_one/ We round off with ‘I checked into Hotel Zenith to win $1,000,000’ by PostMortem33h, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all. https://www.reddit.com/user/PostMortem33/

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Book an eye exam at Spexsavers.cavers.cai.c.a. I exams are provided by independent optometrists. Visit Spexsavers.cavers.ca to learn more. Welcome to Dr. Creepen's Dungeon. Deadly games are fascinating because they combine the thrill of competition with the highest possible stakes, life and death. These scenarios push characters to their physical and psychological limits, forcing them to confront their deepest fears and instincts for survival. The unpredictability of who will outsmart, outfight, or outlast their opponents creates a gripping sense of suspense. Are the moral dilemmas involved, whether it's choosing self-preservation or helping others?

had layers of complexity. Deadly games captivate us because they explore human nature at its most primal, testing the boundaries of courage, desperation and cunning. As we shall see in tonight's collection of stories. Now as ever before we begin, a word of caution. Tonight's tales may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. That sounds like your kind of thing. And let's begin.

We played a game in a mirror and something was looking back. by Jung Setti. My heart skipped about anxiously, and I took another deep breath to calm my steadily rising nerves while Melinda set the room up for our game. I sat at the centre of Mel's bedroom, feeling every bit the part of a lab rat. The room had been tidied, the floor cleared of any obstructions,

as she fumbled to set up the old, mahogany-chival mirror. We'd managed to fumble down from her attic a few feet in front of me. The room was dim, intentionally so, casting us in an unusually oppressive sort of darkness. The only light, with the exception of the candle we were using in the spirit of the game, was the moonlight streaming in through the window which Mel had left open for the crisp night air. I shivered, both from the chill of the house, made frigid by the Illinois four weather,

and the dark mass of anticipation swelling within me at the prospect of the game ahead, which, particularly at that moment, felt far more like an experiment than a game. "'Mod turned to face me, there in the mirror again, "'checking to make sure my reflection was perfectly aligned "'at the centre of its large surface. "'Finally, satisfied with everything's place, "'she turned to face me. "'Okay,' she said, clasping her hands together

"'and shooting me a wide, excitable grin. "'You ready?' "'Her eyes gleamed with nervous yet enthused anticipation. "'You get what you doing right. I shrugged. The video she'd sent me had given a brief explanation of the game, ritual, whatever it was, enough that I had a basic understanding. Still, as I sat in almost complete darkness,

only the light of my phone illuminating the mirror, I couldn't help but feel a steadily creeping sense of unease at the prospect, like so many strangling vines tightening around me. It wouldn't hurt to hear it all explained again, if no other reason than to buy myself a bit more time. Just, um, explain it one more time. Like, which part? Whether game is or how to play it?

I nodded, smirking a little. She shot me a look of mild irritation, lips pursing into a tight frown, but obliged with a sigh. Okay, well, we're playing the mirror game, obviously. She gestured to the mirror behind her. I got a glimpse with myself in it, and couldn't help but frown,

pulling my sweater tight around me. Well, it's simple. You stare at yourself in the mirror for about ten minutes, like really look at yourself, and after a while you'll start seeing things. Things, I asked. The rising waters of reluctance audible in my voice. She shrugged.

Things, she responded back. Well, there's nothing specific. Some people see their face change, other see shadows across, colors, really depends on the person. As her words painted eerie pictures in my mind, I found my gaze wandering back to the mirror and felt a cold chill down my back, like an icy caress. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and letting my mind drift towards the sounds of the

night around me. From the open window I could hear the sounds of the surrounding woodland, the chirp of crickets and the croak of distant toads from the bog, paired with a breeze moving through the leaves to form a soothing melody. I let myself focus on it, trying to quell my uneasiness. What? I paused, considering what I was asking. How is that possible?

She scoffed again, arms hanging at her side in an expression fit for a frustrated child, not a 17-year-old. I don't know. Science stuff. Your brain, like, well, makes stuff up till it tries to fill in what you can't see properly. Something like that. Did you even watch the video? I nodded.

I relaxed, look. I tried it already. Saw some weird shadows. My face did some weird stuff in the mirror, but it wasn't too bad. I thought that over for a second. And, um, we're in the dark because... That had a slightly mischievous grin slipped to her face. She scratched her head, the tattoo on her arm flexing as she did so. My eyes lingered on it, a little smiley face, right eye winking almost conspiratorially.

Well, that, she began, was my idea. I thought it added a little atmosphere. She waved her hands like some budget magician at the word atmosphere, and we both laughed for a good bit after. After a moment her expression settled, a smile fading. You ready? I guess so. muttered, sighing and casting a glance at the sky outside, littered with the distant stars like

flecks of white cast across a dark canvas. I'll stay at the stopwatch. You should be done after the ten-minute mark, but you should start seeing things at five. Nothing bad should happen, but obviously if you need anything, I'll be right outside the door. My stomach felt knotted with the sort of anxiety I'd previously only known being strapped down to the seat of some terrifying amusement park ride as a child. It's a sensation you get having locked yourself in for an experience that promises discomfort at least, horror and maybe fates far worse at most. I simply nodded, steadily burgeoning nerves robbing me of my voice for a moment. Mel nodded back and after setting up her phone to record me, leaning against the back of her desk, which sat to the side

of the old mirror, she made her way to the bedroom door. Have fun, she chirped, casting a final look my way. Oh, and good luck. All I could manage was a nod in response, the faint tingle of unease gnawing at my gut. As the door shut behind her, I felt a small surge of that animal panic one only feels while alone in the dark.

It was a strange, contradictory sort of terror, both utterly isolating yet feeling as though every snap of a twig or rustling leaf might harbors some unseen threat lingering just out of sight. I shuddered once more in my seat, this time having less to do with the temperature, frigid as it was. God, it's cold, I thought. This is stupid. I should just...

My mind began running through every reason to abandon our experiment outright. Still, I'd agreed to try this. It sounded interesting before I was actually sitting in the dark by myself. and I knew Melinda wouldn't let me hear the end of it. Besides, once I was done, it would be her turn to try, which was a funny enough thought, given her jumpiness, to stir some motivation. I sighed, locking eyes with myself in the mirror a few feet ahead,

taking stock of my appearances, and I settled in for ten likely very boring minutes. I grimaced. I'd never been much of a fan of my appearance. I knew I wasn't ugly, but it had always been. bothered me how my nose felt just a tad too big for my face or how bushy my eyebrows were. I never spent too long looking at myself for fear of whatever imperfection I might discover next. Still, Mel had spent almost an hour convincing me I look fine,

and that perhaps it might help to see a crazy version of my, if anything, and my resolve faded as curiosity struck. A twitch from just behind my eyes derailed my train of thought. I paused, staring at the space, though there was nothing. For a moment, I was certain I'd seen something moving, crawling down between my eyebrows across my nose. Still, whatever it was, it was gone as soon as it appeared. I sucked in my breath, trying to steal my heart.

I was already questioning myself, whether I'd actually seen anything or in my nervousness, just convinced myself I had. Just relax. if you freak out, Mel, we'll never let you hear the end of it. It's a game. My attempts to reassure myself helped a bit, but as the seconds passed, my eyes locked on their counterparts in the mirror. Couldn't help but feel the distinct sort of unease one feels when they lock eyes with an eerie stranger.

As the seconds passed, I began to question myself. I had my eyes always been so beady, "'Do I always appear so angry?' "'Well, perhaps it was the lighting, I thought, "'or the angle at which I sat, "'but I couldn't help but notice how upset I looked. "'My eyebrows seemed to curve, creating a permanent glare, "'lips rested in something nearing a sneer.

"'It seemed almost sinister, "'and somehow it didn't feel right. "'I shifted, swallowing hard as I forced a smile. I smiled until I was squinting, watching with a mild unease in the mirror as my face shifted in response. Somewhere in the depth of my gut I felt a distant, almost perceivable twinge of dread. I was smiling, obviously, but somehow even that didn't look right. I ran my fingers across my face, not a sense of dysphoria taking hold as I did so. I couldn't explain it, but I felt almost disconnected from what I was seeing before me.

Even my smile looked wrong. Sarcastic almost. Is this what she was talking about, the illusions? I thought was both comforting and slightly unnerving. This was the effect. A strange, mild shift in my expression. I was supposed it wasn't anything too bad, though. There was something really deeply disconcerting about it.

I blinked. Wait, did I blink? I felt my mind beginning to race, a mild undercurrent of panic beginning to set in. I'd seen myself blink, but for some reason I couldn't remember doing so. It's an instinct. You blink without realising it. Relax. My reasoning was sound, though. Somehow deep down, I remained unconvinced. I'd seen my reflection blink. There was no way for that to be possible unless I hadn't. With every passing moment it felt like

The mirror was fading away Falling into the background and my own reflection was growing more prominent More pronounced It's difficult to explain even now You'll start seeing things It's different for everyone Mell's words played in my head Abating some of the growing panic with a much-needed reminder

This was supposed to happen after all there was no specific thing I was supposed to see, but the whole point was to see whatever illusion my mind conjured up. I guess mine was as imaginative as blinking. The thought almost made me laugh. But I noticed something. It was strange, difficult to even put into words at first. I could see that there was something wrong with my reflection, yet for a while I couldn't tell

what. It felt as though my eyes were adjusting. here with every second my own face seemed less familiar than before. Seconds passed with my eyes locked on my reflection, a silent, eerie tension in the air. It took a moment before I could tell exactly what felt off about it. My expression, or rather the expression of my reflection. My face, my reflection was staring at me,

its face a placid mask of something like surprise or shock, eyes wide and unblinking. My heart threw itself against my ribs, thudding with such intensity I could feel it in my ears, as initial confusion began to quickly give way, and the slow trickle of panic grew to be a torrent. I began to make exaggerated expressions in the mirror, my mind desperately trying to make sense of the situation. The me in the mirror was unmoved. It took me several seconds to process the impossible reality of the situation. this is okay

this is supposed to happen the reminders did little to assuage the swelling sense of animal panic a primal sort of instinct that screamed for me to stop to cover the mirror get as far away from that room as possible I wouldn't let myself do it

though it was nothing more than an illusion after all annoying male was on the other side of the door that made the idea of bursting out in a panic a reluctant one my reflection's expression began to shift, from a wide-eyed, stomach-churning stare, to a look of morbid disgust.

I felt my stomach flip as I watched its face shift with an unnatural speed and countenance, his brows arching angrily with an almost cartoonish exaggeration, a sneer of unwavering disgust peeling across its lips. Slowly it began to rise from its, oh, my chair, its expression somehow only growing more hostile. Nothing more than an illusion. I tried my hardest to remain convinced of that. Yet, as the reflection rose to full height, standing over me in my chair,

it all seemed far too intricate for any illusion that wasn't from some substance. My jaw twitched as I teetered on the verge of calling out for Melinda. The more this progressed, the less I found myself worried about seeming terrified because I was. The other me raised a finger as if to indicate patience, and a cold dread swept through my chest as I watched it reach somewhere out of the mirror, its hand disappearing from view for several moments. My heart pounded as it watched me, eyes gleaming with a look of malice that made my blood curdle.

Nothing more than an illusion. It's nothing more than it... There was a faint sound from the side of the mirror, a familiar hiss of wood. The candle flickered and then went out, plunging me into a darkness that seemed to move in on me. My eyes strained through the sparse light, only the moonlight oozing through the clouds and open window to illuminate the scene before me. I felt my mouth fall open in a silent question as I watched the draw on Mel use for her makeup supplies on the desk that sat behind the mirror. It slid open with a slow, deliberate sort of motion. And from within, I could hear movement. My eyes darted between my reflection and the desk, my mind reeling as it refused to make the impossible connection,

until I saw what was in her my hands. It was a small, handheld, makeup mirror. I'd seen Melinda use it dozens of times. Hell, I'd borrowed it on occasion. Realisation struck with the force of a sucker punch, and I quickly realized I was shaking despite my best attempts. This was more than a mere illusion. Somehow, some way, the thing in the mirror was more than just the effect of light

reflecting back off the surface. It was tangible. It was real. The other me's smile stretched and stretched and stretched and stretched, impossibly widened until I could see all of its teeth, in an expression more fit for a shark than any of the other. anything resembling a human. I tried to stand,

but as I did it threw itself back into the chair, eyes locking with mine. I felt something in my head, but it's difficult to describe, almost like having another user log on to the same computer for a split second. There was a feeling that I was momentarily somehow locked to it.

My knees buckled, and I fell back into the chair with a painful thud. my back landing awkwardly against it. I felt a scream rising in my throat as the panic reached a fever pitch, Melth already agape, Mel's name on the tip of my tongue went, It crushed the mirror. I cried out, my right hand searing with pain, my flesh burning with the unmistakable sensation of glass digging deeper into my palm.

At a glance I could see no blood, but the power of my hand burned a deep, deep red, several gashes visible from beneath the skin. Her eyes locked. A primal horror gripped me as I took a shuddering breath, and it glared back at me with that smile. Before I could call out, or scream for Melinda's help,

it had raised its bleeding hand to its face, stretching its mouth open, slowly releasing the contents inside. The effect was immediate. Jeweling sensations of warmth and cool coated my tongue, and though I didn't understand, how I could taste the metallic blood in my mouth, feel the cuts appearing across my tongue as it smiled at me. Sticky ribbons of scarlet saliva trail from my lips, as I was too afraid to even risk swallowing while my mouth was filled with this rancid taste. I waited with a pounding heart for the

excruciating pain in my throat, struggling to stave off nausea, unsure of what might happen if I accidentally swallowed. I took small, deliberate breaths through my nose. But the pain never came. It watched me, its utterly inhumane appearance, somehow seeming satisfied as it took in my reaction. God, it isn't trying to kill me yet. The understanding emerged suddenly from the maelstrom of horror and panic. Something in its expression resonating.

It just wanted me quiet. It's not done with me. The thought was like a venom in my mouth. mind spinning with the unnerving possibilities of just what that could mean and none of them were good i tried to stand again but found my muscles locked in place the attempt making my legs seize with painful cramps oh shit tried moving my feet keeping my eyes locked on the mirrors and i could feel my toes moving so i wasn't paralyzed it seemed but as long as my doppelganger remain seated i would be too My mind spun as I tried to think of some way, any way, to call out.

Its eyes were changing, shrinking until only the pupils were left. I wanted to run to scream, but I knew I could do neither. The sensation of the phantom glass shifting in my mouth, as its sinister grin stretched, served as a warning. Despite its inhumane appearance, its expression was unnervingly familiar. It was a nightmarish vision of the look I'd get. get right before doing something I shouldn't, a grin that usually spoke of mischief, now one of unspeakable bloodlust. I knew I had to act that whatever came next would surely be devastating. I couldn't have expected what was going to happen. She rose to her feet in an instant,

and my every muscle shrieked out in searing pain as I repeated the act unwillingly. Her teeth began to chatter with what I can only assume was excitement, giving that nightmare smile and even more otherworldly effect, those pinprick eyes peering through me. Slowly she, we, raised our hands to the corner of the mirror. My heart throbbed painfully with dreadful anticipation as they approached the corner, growing closer, closer, until the lips of my fingers touched the surface. It wasn't cool, as glass should be. Instead, I felt a warmth beneath as though I were merely touching the window of some warm room. It was then that a glass began to, well, to move.

The sensation sent a sickening chill down my neck, raising goose flesh in its wake, the warm glass beginning to swell outward where my, and her fingers touched. I knew immediately what it was doing, and the icy claws of terror sunk deeper into my mind with the understanding. I'm It's trying to get out

I thought My stomach churning with a nausea bread from adrenaline It's trying to get out of the mirror I was right And as if to confirm my realization I watched in horror as one by one Her fingers began to emerge Pulling through the glass that looked more

Liquid now with notable effort Brought to mind the image of an animal Reaching through an amniotic sack and the thought made me want to vomit. Its flesh was impossibly cold, like ice to the touch, corpse-like, and I wanted nothing more than to pull away. But I was stuck, my legs locked in the standing position, one arm locked at my side while the other began to grasp the hand reaching out of the mirror. A grip began to tighten around my fingers with an impossible strength. I felt something crack in my index finger.

and a dull yet searing pain radiated through my hand. My vision spun with the pain. I wanted to scream but held it back, my mouth clattering open and shut in unison with its own, the painful shift of glass palpable every time. So I watched, terror washing through me like floodwaters, as slowly her hand began to emerge. It pushed upwards as though moving through the surface of solid water,

gripping my wrist with impossible strength. It pulled me closer, drawing its face nearer as it tried to press its way forth. Ear, close to the surface, I could hear its voice. It was the hiss of death and decaying things, the whisper of dead full leaves as winter's chill cold hand left the world barren. I've spent a lifetime staring back at you, watching the pathetic life you lead, attached to this disgusting form. A lifetime of whispering, that voice at the back of your head, urging you to cut and trim and break yourself.

His face slowly began to push through the glass, warping and splitting as it emerged. The centre of its face emerged from the glass, and for a moment I could see what it truly was. His skin was pale, the inhuman grey of a corpse, with divvits running through its skull almost like a pumpkin. Where there should have been a nose, there was nothing but skin. The only thing that remained was that smile, stretched impossibly wide, dripping with murderous intent. As it began to pull its top half through, its form quickly returned to the mirror version of my own.

And you brought me here. Now you will watch from behind the glass. Well, I knew immediately what it intended. Goose bumps charged along my back as I pictured myself trapped somehow within the mirror. If this was what was coming from the other side, I couldn't imagine what lurk there. I had to do something. Screaming was out of the question, as was running. Any attempt would at best result in nothing, and at worst my collapse.

I worked my grip nervously around the corner of the mirror. She, it, was so close I could feel the unnatural. chill radiating from her skin and the smell of the rancis scent of decay heavy on its breath. I noticed quickly how its nose leaned to the right, the reverse of my own, an odd detail that my mind seemed to grasp in what I felt might be my final moments. It's cold, always cold inside. You'll never know worth again, just the cold, harsh touch of the mirror. And it giggled, a cackling sound that made it evident it had never made such a noise before.

It was then that an idea emerged from amidst the maelstrom of terror, a hail-married from somewhere in the panicked recesses of my mind. Burning anxiety curled around my heart at the thought of what I was going to do, knowing failure meant certain death or worse. Still, it seemed that, or a fate worse, was almost sealed, so I had to have a little. had no other choice. So I grabbed the mirror for dear life, gritting my teeth despite the pain. The other me was a little more than halfway out, his body with grey skin, almost reptilian in appearance in the brief seconds before it regained my own. I could feel its hot breath on my ear,

taste the rot that seemed to spill from its very paws, around his tongue along my cheek, a naturally long and forked, covered in small barbs. It's so cold and dark. Misery until the moment some wretched, weak thing comes to stare at you. Don't worry how I'll visit often. Every time I pass a mirror. It was pulling me forward, my face nearing the surface of the mirror over its shoulder. I prayed my hell Mary found its target,

and, with a final breath, I tried to step back. My legs locked, and instead I found myself slowly tipping backwards. There was a split second, as me and the mirror rocked. It stuck in my grip, where the thing peered down, then back at me, confusion plain on its face. In an instant, as I slowly began to rock backwards, it was replaced by a fury that made me want to leap out of my own skin. It snarled, its every feature twisted in a mask of animal rage. It clamped down on my arm, its mouth large enough to engulf most of my forearm. I felt it digging in, dull teeth slowly sinking through flesh.

The pain was excruciating, and it was almost dulled by the realization that it was too late. As we began to careen backward, it released its grip, emitting a shriek that haunts my nightmares until this very day, and I'll cross between the haunting whale of a mountain lion and the sound of metal in a car crash. I hit the ground with a thud that sent white waves of pain through me. The sound of shattering glass immediately followed, and, through blurred vision, I watched as it shattered with the mirror. Instantly the pain of my mouth was gone, replaced by the sharp ache of my skull and back as I lay amongst the glass. The door flew open, and in a panic I struggled to stand, cutting my hand on some of the glass. Mel stared back at me from the open door.

Her expression equal part shocked, confused and horrified. What the fuck happened? She almost screamed, taking in the sight of my bloodied form amongst the glass. She quickly crossed the room, careful to avoid the worst of the mess, as she extended an arm to me. I was about to explain. Panic still clinging to me like a stubborn fume, prepared to tell her everything. When I paused, my eyes lingered for a moment on her arm, on the smiling tattoo she'd gotten at the end of our junior year. And my stomach turned.

I couldn't understand how I'd missed it before. Are you okay? She asked, still appearing shocked. Yeah, I tried to stand up and got dizzy. offered, pulling my sleeve down to hide the clear bite marks on my arm. I think I should get going. I don't feel the best. Should I drive you? She asked, making a way towards her dresser for her keys. I can if you... No, no, I'm fine. It'll clear my head, I offered. And before she could dispute, I was making my way to the door. I exited the house, trying not to seem overly eager. Mel,

Those lingering presence in the background made my heart pound with nauseatingly familiar anxiety. As I pulled away, my eyes didn't leave the house, or her standing in its front yard, until they were long out of sight. And when she was, I hit the gas, speeding home and locking every door and window upon arrival. She's called several times in the past few days, even stopped by. I told my parents not to answer. I'm not planning on answering her calls either. You see, it wasn't until the moment she offered me her hand that it clicked. Perhaps my paranoia had raised my perception a bit,

or I was just willing to acknowledge what might have seemed an odd mistake before. But now I know for sure. I'd been there when Melinda got her tattoo, holding her hand as the design was drawn into her skin. It had been something simple, just a smiley face, winking its eye. When I arrived home that night, after locking myself in my room, I hurried to my phone, scrolling through old photos for one in particular, praying I was mistaken.

It was taken the night she got the tattoo. When I saw its cold confirmation settled in, in the image of my phone, the tattoo was winking with its left arm. No matter how hard I racked my mind from every memory I have of her that night. It'd have been winking its rights. I know how long my friend has been gone. Swapped with her doppelganger from beyond the glass. What I do know is that thing that was there with me that night.

You invited me to play that game. It was never male. I guess if there's anything to be taken from this, is to be wary of your reflection. I don't really spend much unnecessary time looking in the mirror anymore. You never know who. or what is really looking bad. Hey Ontario, come on down to BedMGM Casino

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Part one. Try having that sound wake you up. The way the metal screeches as it spins. Try having that wake you up and then realize you'll bear ass naked and restrain to a chair. What would you be feeling? What would you do? Would you struggle? Maybe try and get free?

Would you cry? Pierce yourself and beg for mercy. That's funny. Mercy. Well, let me tell you right now. You'd do any of those, and you'd have only sped up your death. Whether or not that's part of your intended goal, well... I say all this, because that's exactly the situation I was in at one point.

Tied to a chair, ball gagged with my wrists and ankles tied, pulling them in about four separate directions. right in front of my face as well as directly behind my head were two fully automated buzz sores they spun furiously the screeching metal damn near made me go death i stayed still i knew one moved forward or backward and that was it i'd be ground meat staring directly into the one in front of me it almost looked like it was actually moving inching its way closer and closer i knew it wasn't but That's eyesight for you, isn't it? Always playing tricks, trying to get you to flinch, trying to make you move. I stayed still, though.

I'd seen what had happened to the others at this stage. Others who couldn't take it, who couldn't handle staring death right into this screaming metal face like this, only inches away from that own. I wasn't going to make that mistake, though. I couldn't. I had to get out of this alive.

The sores continued spinning for another, three and a half minutes teasing me before suddenly powering down for a second after that i stayed stiff in the chair holding my breath my heart was pumping like a 10,000 horsepower engine my eyes were concentrated on the saw blade as it slowed until finally stopping that's when i finally slowly started to exhale and relax in the chair let me ask you something have you ever felt after something so so exciting or exhilarating it had happened to you, but when things start to settle back down to normal, it only should you take some minute for you to process reality again? What I mean is, have you felt like the world wasn't real for a while afterwards, after

everything suddenly goes quiet after being so loud for so long? Like you're in another world, or another life even. Well, whether you have or not, that's what it felt like to me. Everything was quiet, still, like nothing was there. Like I hadn't been so close to death. I moved around, sporadically scanning the dingy white brick walls. On one of them were the words, Nothing to fear but fear itself.

Under this was a giant yellow smiley face that grinned teasingly at me. It looked like it found me damn near being turned into Choi's cuts was the funniest thing it had ever seen. The way it saw the others as well. The way they see us. I looked then to the wall at my right, seeing the tinted bulletproof window. I couldn't see anything or any one from my end, but that wasn't the case for them. They saw everything and anything.

They watched from that window, savoring every moment with a shit-eating smile at least as big, if not bigger, than the face on the freaking poster. Eventually the light clicked on from the other side, and I saw her. Director Webb. At least that's what she likes us to call her. God only knew if that was her actual name. It didn't matter, though. We, of course, had a different name for her anyway. A simpler one.

Bitch widow. She were a black crop top and tight leather shorts with fishnet stockings. She dressed like this for two reasons. First being because, according to what I'd heard, she used to be a prostitute. And the second, though, was so that she could show off her spiderweb tattoo on her stomach. It was her signature, her trademark, her despise. play of dominance. You saw that and you saw her, and then you pray for whatever mercy you could.

She stood with her thumb over a button. Now that gets your blood-flowing, tiger? She said in a smooth voice through the intercom at the top left corner of the room. I stared at her coldly for a solid minute. She smirked. Oh, you're a quiet little bastard. I'll give you that much. I saw her step to the right and begin fiddling with, what I guess, was some kind of control panel or something. And suddenly I watched the sawblade mechanism start to retract into the walls. Well, in any case, congratulations, your progress to the next round. She then clicked a button mounted on the side of the wall on her end.

Sweet dreams, Tiger, she said with a wink. In maybe two seconds, my eyes became heavy, and the room felt like it was spinning. and then everything was done. I didn't dream. Honestly, I'd never been one to have dreams, good or bad. Well, not like most people say they have anyways. I do see things in my sleep. It's always the same thing.

I see the faces of my fiancée, Vanessa, as well as my best friend, Brent. That's it. Just their faces. Smiling, laughing, screaming. I don't have any sort of vivid scenes play out or anything either. No, it's just their faces staring back at me,

reminding me of why I have to make it out of this freak show alive. It's what's kept me strong this far, what's gotten me this far through the game? Ironic, really. I woke some time, I don't even bother asking me how much. Later, sitting on the cot in my little holding cell. Couldn't go back to sleep, so I just lay there, looking up at the ceiling.

The dark, ash-gray ceiling that had bits of worn paint dangling from places where it had begun flaking. Sometimes I see this too in my sleep. Sort of a way of contrasting. The faces of my loved ones being the light at the end of the tunnel,

while the weathered decaying ceiling, the lifeless brick walls, acted as a reminder of what awaited me if I failed. It was the good and the bad, hope and despair, heaven and hell. At the time I thought this gave me an edge, that I was lucky having something to fight for,

something to lose. Like I said, I used it to fuel me as I endured one, fracked up round after another. Looking up at the ceiling, I couldn't help but wonder what some of the others felt, others, most of which hadn't progressed as far as I had at the time. I wondered who or what they were doing this for, if anybody. What did they have? That I think of it now, though, I'm honestly not sure whether or not they were luckier for it, not making it as far as I did. Well, I had something to lose, yes, but that made things only more painful for me later on. It made everything hurt much worse physically, too, as I continued the game. Like I said, ironic.

Fear itself, the greatest obstacle of man. I remember hearing on the advertisements that promoted all of this, can it truly be overcome? I'll tell you this much there are far better ways to find out the answers of this question didn't need a team of egghead scientists with a big-ass facility like this

like monolith to answer this by concocting this game they actually call it a game you know like we're too stupid to know what it actually is like we'd be naive enough to not realize that we're not people to them but monkeys test monkeys for them to watch get mauled physically, emotionally and mentally in some of the worst ways imaginable.

Of course, what we didn't know was why they were pursuing this in the first place, why overcoming fear was so important to them. I know I didn't, not like I really cared. So long as she's okay, I heard the intercom Blair, an announcement was about to be made by the bitch widow. Attention, attention. Five more contestants have made the cut to the next round. Contestants A, C, V, and you and Z. Congratulations.

You'll all be progressing into the nexus rounds. Sadly, some of your peers weren't so lucky. Sounds of crowd disappointment played before continuing with. Guess they just didn't have the guts. This was followed by sounds of laughter. Yeah, but that was funny to them. Contestants, D, E, and F will be progressing to the danger floor in two hours. That's for our nexus round competitors.

Rest up. Enjoy whatever dreams you can, because our next round will begin right after. The intercombe went out after that. I lay back on my cot, staring once more at the depressing ceiling. My metaphor of hell. I laughed hollowly. It was funny to me. I was slated to head to the danger floor. The danger floor, as if nowhere else in this place could have been nicknamed that, and it still fit just as perfectly.

I mean, for Christ's sake, the first level. The cradle, they called it. It was a series of tasks ranging from finding a crying baby doll in a web of razor wire, withstanding a heated room that escalated in temperature that maxed out, at least I think maxes out, at 10,000 Fahrenheit. and, lest I forget the serpent's den, or I was forced to lie bare-ass naked in a den of squirming cobras for ten minutes straight without so much as flinching, or else I'd be impelled by the serrated needles that were positioned only half an inch above me. If you thought it didn't get worse from there, then you're a freaking moron, a naive, optimistic moron, just like I was when I signed up for this.

I thought things couldn't be worse. I thought the worst to get was when Vanessa got sick. Stage 2 liver cancer, as well as ulcers in her lower intestine. Doctor said it was unlikely there's any real way to treat it thanks to the ulcers. That, to me, as it would be probably to most people, was the worst possible thing to hear. What was worse, of course, was that we didn't have a whole lot of money to even properly feed ourselves and keep the roof of our cramped one-bedroom apartment over our heads, much less than we didn't. less be able to afford medical treatment, especially not if funeral expenses were not long to

follow. My dead-end job as a bouncer at the bar was also circling the drain at the time as well, which would have meant soon I wouldn't even have that to rake anything from for her. In short, the love of my life was dying and I needed a freaking miracle to save her. Then I'd find out about all of this. It was from a patron at the bar who I'd never seen around before. I'll keep in mind the town I'm from is relatively small. I could tell you where at least half the residents lay their heads down at night and what time. I say that much to say that, yep, it wasn't usual for me to see a new face, an outsider coming into the bar. What was even further out of the ordinary was the way the guy actually looked. Let's give you a reference of what I mean by this. Imagine just about any

seedy-looking biker bar you've seen in the movies. You know the type. Dark, dusty wooden walls, two or three tables, two others on the side near the champagne room in the back where the booth seats were, and the jukebox by the door that, if we were lucky, would work once every two or three months. Now take this and imagine the type of people you'd think come through there on a regular basis. I bet a young, nerdy-looking kid in shades and a black dress shirt isn't what you were picturing, is it? It wasn't what I was expecting anyway, like I said. But there he was, plopped on a barstool next to me. I was, for reasons already stated, plus the general bullshit from work that night, losing myself with shot after shot of Jack. It wasn't working,

though. It was probably a safe bet to say I wasn't doing real good at hiding it either. At least, judged by the fact that the next thing I knew, he turns to me and asks me if I needed a life-changing phenomenon. I remember looking back at him, probably shloshed by that point, and wondering what to do or say. One thing, it was abrupt when he said it, I mean completely unprovoked. I had not, at least, that I was aware of, made any attempts at trying to engage in conversation

or even look in his direction before this. In other words, in my eyes, he really had no reason to be interacting with me. The other thing was the excited, sort of laid-back tone he took when he asked this. He sounded like he was about to rail on about some new thing that was on the market or something. the same way kids nowadays do when they're gawking about some new viral video he was gauging me essentially

he had a purpose and for some reason he thought it'll be something i would be interested in knowing about well i guess that the joke's all on me for thinking otherwise when he told me that i'd have the chance for 50 grand obviously my first thoughts were a combination of what the freak is he talking about and is this kid's serious here My voice neither of these at the time, though, aside from the liquor setting in, making it hard to really try thinking real deep into anything, I was also just generally not in the mood to hear his or anyone else's horseship. I had far more than enough of my own damn problems

to be trying to hear this no-name kid's propaganda too. I was like this too when I heard him start railing for the next ten minutes about this contest to tournament or something, as he kept calling it, thinking it made it sound more hip or cool. Well, I didn't, but far be it from me to have given enough of a rat's ass at the time to actually tell him that. So, what do you say? he asked. You think you got the guts?

I remember looking at him and going, What? Again, I'd only heard about half of what he was going on about. I had the parts about it being a tournament to see if someone could conquer all fear or something like that. anything beyond that scope though such as any sort of explanation for what the fuck that meant or how it worked was pretty much lost on me entirely i wasn't going to ask either though he wouldn't give me a choice in the matter i tried to make it as clear as possible or at least i thought it was that i wasn't interested still though he kept pushing me about it he made the usual claims about no one's ever made it before

and no one's got the guts to go till the end. That was just another line he seemed to like repeating. No one's got the guts to make it till the end. Funny, isn't it? Just how much that line fits, I guess, to his credit. I didn't see any of that at the time, though. No, I just rolled my eyes and down my last shot of Jack for the night. I was turning to make my way to leave,

back to the apartment where I'd either toss internal night or cry myself to sleep. whichever had come last, I guess, when he thrust a business card at me, as well as pay off my, albeit pretty hefty, tab. As funny as this sounds, him doing that actually helped ignite my interest in his little pitch. See, by that point, I ran up a good $700 to $750 tab. And again, for obvious reasons, I couldn't pay that easily, not without months of major cuts taken from my paycheck. this kid just went and covered it all in one fell swoop.

A kid, I slurred. He turned to me, noticeably parting the left corner of his lip. Where did he get that kind of freaking money from? He didn't reply. Instead, he just pointed to the business card in my hand and winked, before getting up and leaving himself. I just stood there, as steadily as I could anyway, wondering now how this kid could have had that kind of money just on hand like that. That would inevitably lead me to start thinking how I'd be able to make this kind of money, money that I'd be able to put towards Vanessa's treatment. Well, with any luck,

I suppose the money could have hurt us afterwards as well when she'd recovered. She could come out of the hospital, refreshed and new, and we could take a vacation up to the mountains like we've been wanting to. No, we could move to the mountains like she'd always wanted to. That's what led me that night to come home and search up the information listed on the card. The card itself was plain, having only listed a website address in a sort of logo of a large black block or stone with the words monolith corp, written in bold, yet still tiny as hell lettering under it. I wasn't sure how much I expected to find, but I'll say that it was at least a little more than just a single website. Well, I say website, but it wasn't even that much. Clicking the link directed me to a page with a

single pop-up that read in bold lettering that was designed to look like it was bleeding, like how commercials do on Halloween. Can you beat your fear? Fear. The greatest obstacle of man. Can it be overcome? Below were listed three more things. An address and a time, as well as the aforementioned $50,000, which was actually

slightly bigger in size compared to the rest of the text. The time was listed for 11. 11 a.m. that Saturday morning. And that was it. No other details, contact information, trailers, instructions, or even any pictures about the event or whatever the fuck it was anywhere. Nothing. Now I'll bet you're thinking that I had a lick of damn sense enough to close that page, throw away the card and just go to bed, right? Well, said it before the joke was on me. I threw the card away and closed the page, sure. But that wasn't the end of it.

I mean, I think I've made that clear, yeah. I was desperate. Wouldn't you be? Out of curiosity. Let me ask you something. If you were put in my shoes, hypothetically, you're struggling real bad for money just to barely get by. And then you find out the person you love most in the world.

Your ray of sunshine has freaking cancer. And then you find even a slight ray of hope, even if it was pretty spotty-looking. well would you have gone for it and for me the answer would be yes anything if it meant i'd get to make Vanessa come back oh i'd sell my soul for that for her anything part two the alarm buzzed through the holding corridor i could hear the ventilation systems overhead kick in once again my eyes became heavy once more. It was time. Next time I'd wake up, it'd be to whatever horror they'd cooked up for the danger floor. I'd find this time I was asleep a lot longer than the other times,

a lot deeper. Apparently I was out so cold this time that I somehow didn't notice until probably a good second or two in that I was suspended upside down like a bat, strapped tight into a straight jacket with a muzzle covering my mouth over a large vat of sizzling, scalding water. And just like me waking up was a slower reaction, so too was the realization of the actual situation itself. No, that didn't kick in until old bitch widow Webb herself snapped me to reality by blaring into the intercom, sounding as smug and thrilled as ever. Wakey, wakey, sleepy heads. Welcome contestants D, E and F to the danger floor.

Sounds of ooze and ahs played out before she continued with. Caut, hot, hot, heart. Trust me, you don't want to take a dip in this hot tub. Following this was a ding sound, like an air frie or something. I began moving my head around limply. To my right was Contestant D, with Contestant F on my left. Both were hanging upside down and muzzled over vats of scalding water. Contestant F was just waking up like how I was,

while contestant D, seeing the shit we were in, was already struggling, wiggling frantically against the straitjacket. I heard Webb laugh amusedly over the intercom. The three of you will continue to be lowered towards the vats below you. As you feel the heat, you'll feel like you're in hell. The question is, who's got a hard enough head to take the heat? or will you all fry?

I heard from my right contestant D, letting out muffled cries of panic. Beneath the muzzle, she sounded young, maybe 20, 22 max. As she was squirming harder and harder, her entire body swinging back and forth like a pinata. Oh, I wouldn't be wiggling very much like that if I were you. Webb's voice teased enthusiastically over the intercom. See those ropes holding you. guys are old strong sure but old they're not meant for swinging around him she giggled after saying this don't worry you'll be just fine that is as long as you relax and chill out

sounds of crowd laughter played out before she said good luck and after that it was quiet that is, for the violent hissing of the searing vats below the three of us, as well as contestant Dee's muffled pleas. She continued swinging around. I could see the rope beginning to wear away with each swing of her body. Bitch widow was right about one thing. These ropes were old. She's not going to last long, I thought, as I heard and felt the mechanisms the three of us were

tied to begin in lowering us down. Before we'd even lowered five or so inches, I was already beginning to feel stuble. stinging across the top of my scalp. Almost like its own reflex, swept began forming and flooding from my face in bullets, raining down to the vat below me. I think I actually saw most of them evaporated midair, about three or so inches above it.

This, as well as the blood rushing to my head, caused me to start feeling nauseous. The room, which was already hard to distinguish anything in because of how dark it was, plus the steam from the vats, now became blurry to me. The other two just looked like two white blobs dangling and wiggling beside me. Contestant F was now struggling as well, though not nearly as much as D was.

D was now swinging so violently that I'm honestly still surprised the crane she was hanging from hadn't already snatched. Not that it made much difference in the end, anyway. I wanted to cry out to her, to both of them, to tell them to calm down. I guess, though the same reason I'd be able to withstand this particular challenge was also the same. reason I'd be unable to try and help the other two. Unlike them, I was succumbing to the environmental effects. I knew one way or another, sooner or later, I was going to pass out. Whether or not I'd be waking up again, though, well, that was just as much anybody else's bet to win or lose as it was mine. Either way, I'd be out soon. But not them. They somehow

had enough energy to keep struggling, fighting, as if it will give them a way out. Contestant D gave one big jerk to the right towards me before her rope finally snapped, and she plummeted like a stone straight down into the vat. Despite being muffled and short-lived, her screams of pain, terror and anguish will be something, one of the many somethings that will always haunt the back of my mind for every second I'm still alive, both awake or asleep. I just barely saw for a brief second. these eyes as her milky white skin charred.

That's also something I'll never forget. She was so young, so energetic. She was a lie. It wasn't long after this that my own vision darkened. Shadows crept quickly from the corners of my eyes. It was only about four or so inches above the vat now. Oh, my head felt light. Everything was completely blurred.

I lowered another inch. Oh, my face felt unresged. fire now I was so close to the vat I could hear the liquid sizzling wildly cracking and popping before everything became muffled I barely got one last glimpse at contestant F who stopped struggling and then nothing I saw her face again my sweet Vanessa I saw her eyes staring back at me frightened and sad she didn't say anything to me she couldn't She couldn't speak, scream, cry, anything. She could only lay there, wired to a spiderweb of different wires and tubes,

staring at me with the sickliest, ghostliest, most corpse-like face I'd ever seen. Her face was tired, anguished. I could see it. She was tired of fighting, tired of trying, tired of hoping. She couldn't speak, but I could hear it. Please, Eric, make it start. The alarm sounded and I was jolted upright again in my cults. Pent up adrenaline was causing me to hyperventilate, sweating profusely while throwing my head in every direction,

alerting myself to who or whatever danger I felt was waiting for me. Well, there was nothing. I was in my cell again, my empty, dull, depressingly lifeless cell. I then heard the intercom sound off. Well, well, well, let's hear if it continue. contestants E and F. Congrats to you two for making it past the danger floor. She followed this with sounds of crowd cheering.

And let's have a giant round of applause for contestant V, the sole survivor of the Nexus round. The cheering played again even loud at this time. I finally lay back down to my cot, slowly started to relax. There was no danger, not for the time being. only the bitch widow you know what that means sounds of crowds gasping in excitement that's right contestant v will progress to the finals the judgment round as for our winners of the danger floor you'll both move on to the nexus round to see who will be facing contestant v in the judgment round and as for contestants r g and l get ready because you'll be up in one hour for the

danger floor. The intercom went silent after that. It was quiet again, dead silent. The only sounds in the background were the air rushing through the ventilation and the static hum of the dim fluorescence coming from the hallway. I laid still, my cot cradling me in a crude, ungentle embrace. I stared once again at the ceiling, at hell. This time I could start to see the spots of chipped paint sort of shift, morphing to resemble Vanessa's face, the same dead, sickly face I'd seen before. Sunken eyes, formed from the two largest exposed patches of the ceiling underneath, stared longingly back down at me. I won't lie, this was when I couldn't help but shed tears. For as much pain as I'd endured, both physically and mentally up to that point,

that side alone was the most painful thing I could endure. It was the reminder of hell, just like the paint-chip ceiling above me was. It was a lingering dread of what waited for me if I failed, a life where she suffered until she was no more. It was my nightmare, as well as my biggest single motivation. It was my worst fear. What's your biggest fear? I remember being asked that at the beginning when I was signing up.

It was the last question on the form, at the very bottom, an almost fine print. I didn't answer it, though. Funny enough, that was an optional question. I figured, why answer that? Why make anything easier for them, just to make things harder for me? Again, ironic,

funny even. I closed my eyes. It was hurting me to think about it. They snapped open again when I heard the sounds of clicking footsteps coming toward myself from the end of the hallway. I sat up to listen. Oh, I recognized them, platformed high heels, slick and solid. My visitor was none other than bitch widow herself.

You look tired, she said, crooning to me. You should relax, Tiger. You look like you've lost something. She came up to the bars of my cell, locking her eyes, her deceptively warm, inviting eyes with mine. Her face was one of longing, of hunger almost. You have lost something. haven't you or rather someone I didn't answer not verbally anyway instead I

simply turned away laying down on my stiff cot and facing the opposite wall in a way I was like a child trying to show grit against his parents by giving them the cold shoulder even when in reality I was as tiny as ever I heard the bars of the cell slide away then following this I could hear the clicks of her footsteps coming towards me. I didn't move. In a way, I knew this was just yet another trial, just another part of the game, another fear to overcome. I flinched, however, when I felt her smooth, slender fingers passed slowly over my chest. Just relax, she whispered in my ear. You don't need to be afraid, Tiger. Trust me, if I wanted to hurt you, I'd have done it. I felt her tongue slide across my cheek,

ending with a playful nibble on my ear. My body tensed as she did this. I felt excited and anxious at the same time. My heart started beating quicker and quicker. Her hand moved sensuously across my chest again, and I heard her soft giggle and whisper. So, tell me, who is it? I stayed silent, stiff.

Oh, come on. It's not good to hold it all in like that. Who is it? Who's got your blood boiling and freezing at the same time? Her hand passed from my chest and down the side of my leg. Who is it that's making you go through this, all this pain? The hand passed down now to my thighs. Is it a friend? she whispered. Is it family?

She let out a soft, almost ecstatic moan and whispered, No, it's neither of those, is it? tiger oh i'll bet it's a lover my body seized up again hard i struggled not to lash out i couldn't give her that satisfaction that she was right that she knew and i didn't even have to say a word no i had to keep calm i had to keep fighting she giggled softly in my ear again you know tiger i know a lot more than you think I do. The hand continued caressing my thigh. I know the look of someone who's afraid to lose something. It's why I like you. You're different from these others. You're fighting for something, or rather, someone. Yeah, you have a purpose. You're in this for more than a lousy 50 grand.

She'll lean close to my ear and whispered. No, you're fighting for survival. You'll fight for what you love. I like that. She wrapped her arm around me, spooning against me. The only question is, who is it? The room was silent again for another minute. I felt a body nudge closer against mine.

It was my son for me. Her voice was different now. Her seductive guise was gone. Now she sounded small, pitiful, vulnerable. I wanted him to have a home. A proper home, you know. A place where he could safely lay his little head. She stopped for a moment.

I heard her let out a heavy sigh, like she was holding back tears. I wanted him to have a life. Her arms tightened around me. She was no longer powerful in that moment. She was tiny, like I was, like the rest of the contestants. A frightened little girl clutching a stoic little boy. Or at least, so she wanted me to think. I wouldn't cave though. I knew what this was. She was gauging me. She wanted me to spill my guts,

give her ammunition to use against me later in the game. No, I wouldn't talk. I wouldn't tell her why I was afraid. And when his rat bastard of a father threw us onto the street, I did anything I could scrape up enough money so we could eat. I hardly got to see him, always too busy with every man who was willing to kick a few bucks my way. I still see the way he looks at me, his little blue eyes. You know what he asked me once, Tiger? I stayed silent, clenching my jaws. I heard a choke back what sounded like a sob.

Her fingernails dug slightly into my chest. Then in an even smaller voice, she said, Mommy, when will this all be over? I felt a lump form in my throat. And for an instant I saw it again. Vanessa's own longing face, begging for it all to end. You know what that feels like? Is that what it's like for you?

Does it kill you to see the person you love look so tired, so empty? The voice broke completely, and her grip tightened, she then whispered. Are you so scared to lose them, but you'll break yourself in every way necessary just to hold onto them? Yes. The body now seized up, freezing in place almost. my own heart was now jackhammering in my chest desperate to punch straight through i'd done it i'd broken and exposed myself to her my enemy to the bitch widow time felt like it was frozen for a solid five minutes no sounds no movement nothing suddenly i felt webb's body relax again even taking her nails out of my chest she went back to softly stroking my chest silently for another minute or so, before I felt to sit up and lean down

close to my ear again. It was nice to hear you talk to me for once, Tiger. And with that, she planted a wet peck on my cheek before getting up and walking out of myself. I was alone again. My body was shaking. I was nervous now. In all honesty, up to then, I'd not really feared what I'd face in the next rounds. I knew that whatever it was, however dead, dangerous or life-threatening, it would be nothing compared to the fear of losing Vanessa or failing her. But now that power was diminished. Now my strategy, my secret weapon, I guess you could say, was exposed. The bitch widow now knew my secret and would, no doubt, find a way to use it against me in the upcoming levels of the game.

I was vulnerable. I could feel my eyes start to burn with tears. I knew I was essentially done for now. lose the game my life but worst of all i'd lose her she'd slowly and painfully die of cancer and she wouldn't even get a decent burial it'll all be my fault all because i cracked because i was afraid part three the alarm buzzed this time for the first time i was actually scared to go to sleep More than that, I was afraid of actually waking up. The air rushed through overhead again.

I brace myself, waiting to be forced to sleep, thrown into whatever freak show I was slated for next. But nothing came. I waited for about another ten minutes with nothing happening. I realised then that it wasn't for me, not this time. It wasn't time for the Nexus round yet, I guess. I then saw two gorilla-sized men in gas masks and body armour. stomped down the hallway to a few of the other cells at the other far end.

I watched them open up and drag the unconscious bodies of the R, G and L contestants out and back down the hall where they come from. I just watched numbly as they were dragged along. It was like how an animal would watch as one of their kin were being led to the slaughter. They'd know what would happen that they'd never see them alive again, but at the same time, what the fuck were they going to do about it? so they just sit and watch, praying they wouldn't be the next in line. That said, the question presented itself to me once more.

What kept them going? What was keeping them from just hitting the fuck this button and giving up, succumbing willingly to whatever they've been subjected to? Did they too have someone they were afraid of losing? These questions buzzed around wildly in my head for at least the better part of an hour. Though, being honest here, it felt even longer than that to me. longer or not though my thoughts on this would be cut short when i'd hear the intercom buzz again give it up for contestant r everybody sounds of the crowd cheering played this time though sounding like whatever device they'd been coming from was just about out of juice webb's own voice even sounded noticeably less enthusiastic than it had been we're almost at the end folks only four of you left So far only one has made it all the way to the judgment round.

So the question for now is, who will contest them for $50,000 grand prize? In just a few minutes we'll be finding out in our next and last, Nexus round. Like before, the intercom went silent after that. Only about two seconds later, the noise from the intercom was replaced by the noise from the door to the hallway opening, followed by the elephantine stomping of the man from before,

dragging the sleeping body of Contestant R back to the cell at the far end of the room Once they dumped him back in his cell The men just stood in the middle of the hallway They were waiting I was too

Like she said we were almost at the end About another half an hour I heard the alarm sound Followed by the now all too familiar Sound of the ventilation This is it I thought as my eyelids drooped heavily Soon I was

out like a light to get. This was the first time since starting the game that waking up felt different. It felt peaceful, quiet, no imminent danger like from before. Maybe I shouldn't call it peaceful. Quiet sure, but not peaceful.

To me, peaceful would have at least implied that all was safe, that nothing around was going to hurt me. I knew far better than that, though. No, I knew it was only a matter of time before something I didn't know what, but something would come out and ambush me. The only question I had was what and or where it was.

Well, the second key difference now, though, was that Director Webb hadn't made her little announcement yet either. I say this to say, the silence agitated and somewhat frightened me more. At least if I had woken up to immediate danger, I'd have actually half expected it. But here I couldn't. Here I felt exposed,

vulnerable, as vulnerable as I was in myself with the bitch widow. Then, almost an hour later, allowing for this disturbingly quiet environment to settle in, I heard the blare of the intercom. Here we are, folks. The fear itself games last nexus round. Crowd-chering sounded all through the current room once again. Lights then flicked on and I saw that I wasn't in an empty room after all. instead it was actually a gigantic labyrinth.

I stood up slowly, placing my hands on the walls as well as the floor below me. I felt them to be solid steel. I could also feel some sort of movement behind the walls as well, like the whirring of some kind of machinery. It was moving all around, moving both from the walls and the floor at the same time. You three are the only ones left who've made it this far. Now whoever makes it out of here will join contestant V in the judgment round, to decide who will be crowned the conqueror of fear itself.

The excited crowd played out again as I felt an electric shock jolt through me from the floor. Despite the steel walls, I heard shrieks of fright coming from around me from the other two contestants. Oops, sorry, she said, chuckling along with the laugh track. Gotta keep you all on your toes for this one. Your objective contestants is to make it to the center of the labyrinth. That's it. Easy, be easy, right. Shouldn't take any of you more than about,

oh, five or maybe six menace to accomplish. Another electric discharge passed through the floor, causing me to jump and the others to cry out again. Oh, but of course, I'm not known for being a real patient, and it's no fun for me to watch you slugs drag your fucking feet. So should you decide to fall behind? Well... This time the shock was low voltage,

freezing me in place as electricity shook all through my body. And I guess you'll just have to get used to being a human Christmas tree, won't you? I don't worry, though. I'll be on standby to get you moving along again if I see you falling behind. See, I can be generous if I want to be. The intercom beeped off after that, and the round had officially begun. Six minutes to make it to the centre of this giant metal maze.

Easy peasy. right. I was urged forward by a jolt from the floor. It was a high-voltage shock that sent me leaping forward almost two feet, causing me to slam face first into the wall in front of me. I heard a laugh track play out over the intercom. What was it that shocking, Tiger? One jolt through your legs from me and you're falling for me hard. I heard her chuckle then, deviously, before adding, oh, how sweet. I picked myself off the wall. Oh shit, this is bad, I thought.

It's just what I'd feared would happen. I'd open the door for her to get inside my head and royally fuck me over. It was only a crack, sure, but for her, for the bitch widow, the crack was far more than enough. I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath. Just relax, Eric. Focus. Opening my eyes again, I started heading to the passage leading off to the right. From there I broke into a jog until I got about five feet down the passage

and came upon a two-way intersection. For a second I stood, looking back and forth between the two passageways, to see which one looked the most likely to actually leave me somewhere other than a dead end. Unfortunately, I underestimated just how impatient Webb was, because next thing I knew, I felt another spark of electricity, sending me hurling forward another three feet. Well, apparently I wasn't the only one either. I could hear one and the others cry out from my right. From how loud I heard it, whoever it was was close by, just around the corner even. And sure enough, I was right.

Stumbling around the corner was the guy who I vaguely recognised from the danger floor level as contestant F. I went over to him. It was wheezing and coughing, out of breath. Hey, you okay? I shouted to him. He gasped and sputtered before some. saying, I can't, I can't keep on like this man. I put his arm around my shoulder. Come on, man, we've got to keep going.

He was too weak, though, too exhausted. He looked up at me wearing that look, the look of hopelessness. Why bother, man. She ain't going to let us go. One way or another, we're just going to end up. He was cut short when a low voltage surge passed through the floor, electrocuting the both of us where we stood. This lasted for almost a minute before finally ceasing,

causing us to collapse to the floor. The intercom beaped again. Oh, I'm not sure how I feel about you holding someone else like that, tiger. Oh, I wonder how she'd feel if she saw you right now. That special someone of yours. She chuckled again before the intercom beeped off once more. My heart was a pounding few. seriously now and it wasn't the electricity either no it was panic how did she know about her

yeah I'd slip that there was someone special to me on the outside but how could Webb know it was a she does she know who I shook my head oh focus I looked down to contestant F was barely conscious time was running out I was about to try and get contestant F to his feet when I felt him feebly push against me, trying to push me away. Come on, I shouted, we have to get out of here, and we'll be fried. He just kept staring at me with glazed eyes. Very faintly I saw his mouth begin to move, and I could hear him hoarsely whisper,

Go, get out of here. He slipped into unconsciousness after that. I shook him to try and wake him up again, to try and get us moving, but it was no use. I felt his net His pulse was fading I wanted to get him out of there But I knew I'd never make it to the centre in time I wasn't going to make it out in time

Unless Unless of course I left him I was torn once again What was I supposed to do I didn't want to leave him behind for dead like that But at the same time I had to get out I had to make it out alive

I had to win I had to save Vanessa For a bruce brief instant I saw that face again, both on Contestant F and Vanessa. I saw it on them, and then on the others. Contestant D, Contestant A, who I'd watched get shredded at the beginning in the cradle. Contestant R, who was dragged gracelessly from the danger floor, all of them staring at me with that face, the face of despair, the face of hopelessness. Why, bother man, she ain't going to let us.

us go. And I shook my head. No, I screamed internally. I can lose now. Come on, I can do this. I can win. I started to make a bee line down the passage and cut a sharp turn to the right. My heart was spiking. My eyes were wide. My blood was rushing. I can win. I have to win. I have to save Vanessa. I have to help her live. A few more turns in each direction, and there it was. the centre. I could make it. I was going to make it to the final round. I could hear the harm of electricity kick up. Time was almost out. The floor started warming up beneath me. In just a few seconds the entire floor would be nothing less than a hotbed, frying and barbecuing the hell out of who, or whatever was unlucky enough to still be standing on it. I broke into a full-on sprint

the rest of the way to the door. Despite it being probably only a foot or two away, It felt like the passage kept stretching, pushing the door at the end further and further away from me as I ran. Still, I kept running and, finally, with maybe a second and a half to spare, I made it, part four. I squinted. Everything around me was a blinding ocean of albino white. It hurt to open my eyes, and it was quiet too. Silent.

Slowly my eyes strained to adjust to the harsh lighting. Once at least semi-clear I now saw that I was in a long alabaster hallway. I started walking slowly down. All around me was nothing, just blank white walls. I kept walking until my feet started to ache, and still there was nothing around anywhere. It was empty, silent. Oh, where am I?

I started violently when I heard the intercom beep. Take a ride and stop at the door at the end of the hall. This time her voice was hollow, monotone, numb. I turned to my right and began walking. There it was, around the first corner, dead ahead at the end of the hall, the last door. This was it. Judgment round. I walked anxiously towards it.

I was about to grab and throw the door open when I stopped. My hand was clutched around the handle, but for whatever reason I just couldn't. When will all this be always? I see the faces again, all of them. Why bother, man. She ain't going to let us go. One way or another, we're just going to end up dead in here anyway. I see her, Vanessa, her pale, sickly face. I see it start to decay, peeling like paper from her bones. Her eyes, her beautiful eyes, glaze over as she slips away. Please, Eric, make it stop.

She then fades completely, crumbling to dust before my eyes. Are you so scared that you'll lose them, that you'll break yourself in every way necessary just to hold onto them? I screamed and threw the door open. On the other side there sat a hospital bed, and in it was a little boy. Webb stood at the right of it. I froze, the adrenaline taking a moment to do. die back down.

Hey there, Tiger, we have said blankly. Her face was hollow, dead the way you'd imagine a puppet to look. I started looking around. I couldn't see anything or anyone waiting. Of course, like I'd seen so many times before in this place, that didn't mean anything. It was never that simple. There's something, always something. But what?

It's okay. there's nothing here i looked at her she turned and looked at the hospital bed then to the boy the boy then looked at me i looked at him and something clicked his face his smooth round face his dark hazel eyes they were just like hers this was her little boy the one she fought for his eyes were glazed the eyelids looking like it was just about all they could do to even stay open. I could hear the EKG monitor beep quietly. This is... Yes, she said.

Yes, he is. My little Brent. She stroked his cheek, her face still cold as ice. I walked up to the bed. I was still looking around the room to see what was hiding. What implements bitch widow planned to surprise me with us. I didn't believe her claim that they were. there was nothing there well that said i couldn't see any sort of implements of torture or anything like

that that was except for when i saw a needle on her side of the bed my eyes widened seeing that oh god what she got in there cyanide drugs truth serum my heart began beating harder and harder again calm down tiger she said numbly i told you there's nothing here to hurt you that's not why you you're here. Well, then, why am I? they asked, still tense. She kept her focus trained on the boy. Because I need your help. I frowned at this. My help, with what? She ruffled the boy's hair, sighing heavily. Oh, he's precious, isn't he? I just kept looking at her. I didn't know what I was supposed to say he always was a sweet little boy brave and strong even when i wasn't there for him he was brave even when they heard him even now you can see it can't you the way he's fighting her voice cracked as she said

mummy's little fighter i look back to the boy his face was pale and sunken i realized he was sick he was dying just like she reaches out to me please Eric make it end I shook my head what am I here for

what I supposed to do she sighed again what I can't what you're here your final challenge Tiger is to do the one thing

I'm afraid to do She glatched the needle My body tensed up But she held it up to me He shouldn't have to keep fighting anymore Should he? What happened to him? The words almost seemed to jump from my mouth

She looked from the needle back to him Stroking his face again And her eyes began to glisten I owed a lot of people a lot of money We were literally sleeping in dumpsters In between alleyways every night and I was lucky at the time to ever have any money to scrape together to get some food for Brent here. So I started borrowing money from some very bad people.

Of course, I figured so long as I could have to do a few of their dirty little favors and give them back the money in pieces, that everything would be fine. But wasn't enough, was it? I said, and she shook her head. Her lips began to pucker and the tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. And it never would be. On top of that, prices for food started to go up, which meant it was damn near impossible for me to afford anything. I kept putting myself further and further into debt, just to try and provide for him, just so he could stay alive. Live to maybe one day have a better future, you know.

I looked to Brent again. I noticed then that he wasn't moving at all, save for the very faint rising and falling of his chest. Not even his eyes were moving. But it didn't matter to them, she continued. All that mattered to them was the money, money that, well, I couldn't give them. It didn't matter that I was just getting by in a miracle as it was. It didn't matter how much I sought myself after random mantis to try to keep making a bit of what that money was. And worst of all, her face melted in tears.

They didn't care that he was just a little boy. She began sobbing quietly. My heart stopped. I felt like my head was going to spin right off my neck. This whole time, through everything I'd experienced up to the present, this was probably the most viscerally haunting moment I'd ever experienced. To this day, it's still one of the most emotionally damning moments ever for me. What comes next, however, is what continues to keep me from being able to sleep properly at night.

Why didn't you try and get help? I asked, though. Somehow something told me this was a question that answered itself. "'And who was going to do that, her?' she cried. "'The police. I wasn't stupid. "'I tattled on them, and they'd have killed the both of us. "'Not to mention they'd have taken Bren away from me. "'I couldn't have that. "'He's my world, don't you understand?

"'He's the best thing I ever had, and I couldn't lose him. "'But some. Here you are.' "'She melted down again. "'I just watched, and I began to feel something deep within me start to burn, something gloring at me. This somehow felt familiar. I was watching Director Webb, the cruel and terrifying bitch widow herself, crumble into pieces, afraid. Not afraid of someone or something that could harm her, but afraid of something that was going to happen, something that had to happen. And then it clicked. It all finally came together. The game,

the sadistic challenges, that night in my cell, all of it, I could see it come together. to tie down to this very moment. She needed someone who could conquer fear, all fear. She needed someone who could do what she was afraid to do now. That's why she created this game, fear itself. She needed someone who wasn't afraid to make it all end. I looked to her, a lump forming in my throat. What do I do?

She sniffed and held up the needle again. This has 75 minutes. milligrams of morphine, and after overdose a grown man. She then looked at me and thrust the needle out. He shouldn't feel a thing. I'll just be him going to sleep, able to dream forever. Oh, the lump hardened in my throat. My heart dropped like a rock into the pit of my stomach.

I could see her eyes begging for me to take the needle. Please, she wept. Help me. Help me make it end, Tiger. I felt dizzy now I couldn't do this I mean killing a little boy

I get it he was suffering hell he was a vegetable but even still how could I how could I take his life I can't I stammered

and her face fell further why not I need you to I'm a coward okay I'm not strong enough that's why I did all this I need you now you're the only one

who's strong enough i just stared at her my own eyes beginning to burn with tears she told me i was the only one brave enough but she was wrong i wasn't brave enough i was scared just like she was i was scared of having to let go it was then that i saw just how cowardly we both were how selfish we were we both been so afraid of losing what was precious to us that we were willing to do anything just to keep from losing them, even if it came at the expense of the person in the end anyway. We feared inevitability, and so we tried to fight it in any way we could. I did it when I joined the game, all just to try and keep Vanessa from succumbing to cancer, even though her every waking day had now devolved into constant misery. And Web had done it with the game, her attempt at finding someone

who could let go of her son for her. I looked at the needle. I reached out my hand, shaking and sweating. She moved it closer to me. Her eyes were locked on each other, both of us lost in each other's frightened, anxious faces. My hand was only an inch away from hers now. Thank you, tight. Before either of us could blink, I grabbed her wrist and jerked her arm towards the boy, the needle embedded into the center of his chest. Blood started streaming out from the wound as his body convulsed. "'No,' she shrieked, "'what have you done?'

"'I've helped you face your fear.' She began frantically trying to plug the wound, but to no use. Brent's body slowly began to relax, and I pulled Webb off of him. She tried to struggle at first before finally going limp in my arms, burying her face in my chest and boy. I looked at Brent's body. His eyes were closed now. He was gone, free at last.

Webb clutched tightly to me, crying, and this time I knew it was genuine. The game was over now. I just held her back. It was all I knew to do. I was free to go home after that. She led me out of the monolith facility, and that was that. At least as far as that part of the story goes. The story of the game of fear itself.

I'd never see Director Webb again, not in person. It was a week after that day that I saw. saw on the news the headline, 28-year-old woman overdoses in middle of alley. One look at the spider-web tattoo on her stomach was all it took for me to recognize that it was her. The obituaries came out the following morning with her face and name.

Violet Hannah Weber, age 28, loving mother of Brent Weber, deceased. As for me, well, shortly before the suicide, I received notification that $50,000 had been directly deposited into my account. Despite this, things were pretty bad for me for a while. Vanessa had been on chemo for the last three weeks since I'd started the game and wasn't showing any signs of getting any better. I had the money now, sure, but I still didn't have Vanessa, and once more I wasn't sure anymore if I was ever supposed to. She looked sicker and sicker

every day, even worse than what I'd imagined back in the cell at the monolith. Though she wouldn't say it, I could still see it in her eyes, just as I had in my dreams, her longing for it all to be over. And in another week, this wish would be granted. It was last Friday that I got on the call. By that point, the tumour had metastasized well into stage four, and she had been hooked up to life support for the better part of the last month. That night, however, was when it was decided by her family to take her off. I remember how all at once, every emotion imaginable burst out of me. I remember flying into a rage, tossing everything around in my living room and shouting curses, which then transitioned to laughing hysterically, before then crumpling into a ball

and crying on the floor. I got to the hospital about five minutes later. Their waiting was her family. They said they wanted me to be there when they did it. At me. be the last person she sees when she goes. I remember how peaceful it was when it happened. She remained for about another two and a half minutes after they pulled the plug. I looked into her eyes. She's able to smile one last time. It was finally over.

She could see it and so could I. For that, I was able to smile back. I realised now that that was when I truly won the game. That was when I conquered my greatest fear. And for that I can still smile. It hasn't been easy without Vanessa, sure. But at the same time, I can still be happy. I was able to save her, even if it wasn't from death.

I was there. I was able to make a smile to give her peace. And I finally conquered my fear by letting go. I checked into Hotel Zenith to win one million dollars. Part one. Meet Mr. Tanark. and the other participants. There is no such thing

as a free lunch. All these TV shows and ads that you see or read are usually promising big money or luxury prizes to one lucky contestant. Call now and you can win a beautiful house in Malibu. Or, I can share this post

and you can get your hands on the latest Lamborghini inventor door. Or, if you manage to spend six nights at Hotel Zenith, you will win the grand prize of one. million dollars call one eight two five six six three two two eight four right now you could be the lucky winner well that's what the guy on the street said when he approached me dear sir this could be a once-in-a lifetime opportunity he shouted tipping his bowler hat and raising his cane in the air imagine what you

could do with all that money you could have the life of your dreams think of all the possibilities he said exulting tapping his shoes on the concrete then he handed me the flyer you seem like a brave man sir maybe we'll see each other there tonight he told me pointing and winking at me after he took a bow whatever man i replied taking the flyer and stuffing it into my pocket on my way home I stared at the flyer and fantasized about what I'd do with a million dollars. It had certainly helped my situation and improved my life in so many ways. I've spent all my life learning about new things, studying finance and business, only to get a nine to five shitty job at a beat-up call center.

I don't get a really good pay, but at least I can make it to the end of the month, you know. Although the one thing I hate the most about that place is the cost. constant movement. The phone's ringing and the operator's hanging up. It's like a constant factor of stress, a persecutor that's always present and always annoying me. And my boss, oh my God, he's unbelievably stupid and every so often I imagine myself smashing his face with the telephone receiver shoving it down his throat while it's still ringing. Anyways, enough talking about myself. let's get back to it. The flyer even said that the competition will be live on television,

broadcast on a channel that was part of this new media distributing company, and, well, if well received, they were planning on renewing it for another two seasons. I tossed it aside on the table and then cut myself some dinner and watched Netflix. It was roughly 10pm, I was about to go to sleep when I saw that shiny, glittery flyer again. The writing was golden on a crimson background, and it screamed a scam, of course. My bank account only had about 350 left that month. Maybe if I don't win the first place, maybe there's some prize for the second and third places. And so, I decided to give it a go and see what would happen.

I dialed 1825-663-2284 and listened to the robotic female voice on the other end of the line. "'Mr. Richardson, we've been expecting your call, but we thought you'd never do it. "'Are you ready to check in to the Zanith Hotel for the chance to win one million dollars? "'For yes, press one. For no, press two. "'How the hell do they know my name?' I asked myself, panicking over the situation, pressing one. "'The connection seemed to interrupt, and then another voice picked up the call. "'Ah, you know, I had faith in you from the moment you took that flound. kind, sir. You have the eyes of a winner. Yes, you do. You already look like a champion,

so I can't wait to meet and greet you at the Zenith, he said in an old man's voice, somewhat raspy and compelling. He then said that a car would pick me up from my house, and I should be out in five minutes. I hesitated, of course, but when I had to sleep already gone, I decided to go and just check it out and see what I'd find that. You know, just out of curiosity. So I hopped in the car with a driver who looked like he just killed a lot of people. I asked, what's the thing with this hotel? And he answered in a Russian accent.

I don't know. Just sit back there and enjoy the ride. Bliet. I was thinking he was going to pull out a gun or something. I mean, the dude was huge. I could eat three Arnold's in one meal. We then exited the city, took a right turn and reached the destination where I saw what was indeed a hotel. I only counted six floors. It wasn't really big but not small either.

I took my bag out of the trunk and headed inside. In the foyer, there was already a bunch of people present and the same man from the street, who was standing behind the desk at the reception. Good evening, welcome to Hotel Zenith. Are you checking in, sir? If he recognized me, he clearly wasn't showing it. Yeah, I'm checking in for the competition. For six nights, please.

I replied, refraining myself from further comments. Okay, sir, you're in room one, oh, seven, on that right corner side over there. Your luggage will be taken care of. I hope you enjoy your stay, and maybe you'll leave this place not only with one million dollars, but also in one piece, he said, grinning, looking at me like he'd had the funniest moment of his life. Then he jumped out from behind the desk and shouted, his voice echoing through the corridors of the ground floor. Good evening, good evening, ladies and gentlemen, let's get to know each other a little better, shall we? My name is Mr. Tanaka. I'm the clerk,

the owner of the hotel, and the brilliant mind behind the... this competition that you've all signed in for. So before asking you if you're ready to face the difficult tasks ahead, let me read out loud all of your names, ages and occupations, after which I will tell you the rules of the competition and what you're allowed and not allowed to do while staying here with us. So, without further ado, let's meet. Mr. Ken Rogers, 38, business analyst.

Miss Sylvie Descham, 35, former military, Mr. Zed Trud's, 41, university teacher, Mr. Dan Williams, 56, former farmer employee, Mrs. Elizabeth Warbur, 43, Warmark, Chir. Mr. William, Death Viper, Daniels, 19, Hacker Extraordinaire, Mr. Ben Richardson, 27, call center operator, Mr. Vance Jones. 47 unemployed.

Now the rules are very simple. One, quitting before the competition ends is strictly forbidden. Two, social media interactions are not allowed. Three, after finishing the stages of the competition, you are to return to your room where you will rest for eight hours and then proceed to the next stage. 4. If you hear knockings on your door, screams outside, a voice that says they can show you an easier way to beat the contest, do not exit the room and ignore everything. If you fail to comply, you will be disqualified and send home. And five, if two or more people reach the final stage of the competition, there will be a bonus round that will determine which contestant is fit to take home the prize. There are six floors of this hotel and each stage takes place on a different one. When you finish the challenge, you must return to your room immediately.

Ladies and gentlemen, I wish you good luck and may the best contestant win. Oh, I almost forgot. Here in this suitcase I have the grand prize which I'll give to the winner at the end of the competition. When he finally finished speaking, he opened his briefcase to show the $100 bills in pristine We were already looking at each other like we were the greatest enemies in history. Soon after that, the weird-looking dude, Vance, pulled out a gun and pointed at it to Mr. Tanaka. All right, old timer. Hand that shit over.

I'm leaving this dump of a hotel. Come on, hurry the fuck up. Push it over here, you old fuck, he said, angered and shooting one bullet at Tanaka's feet. "'Oh, why did you do that? "'This marble was new, Mr. Johnson. "'You shouldn't have done that,' Tanaka replied, "'and he went so fast behind Vance's back "'that we didn't even see him.

"'He pulled out a sword from his cane "'and slashed the guy, decapitating him first, "'cutting both his arms, "'and then he took a final swing of the sword "'to separate the torso from the legs. "'Mr. Tanaka whist. I told. Mr. Ocita, Mr. Senwell, please clean up this mess.

You know it makes me sick when I see dismembered people. He ordered to two people who appeared out of nowhere. Do with him what you must, he added. I ruined my suit. What a shame. Now, settle down, everyone. There's no need to be scared. Oh, I might add this to the list of rules.

attempted murder will not be tolerated. How do you, you folks, say it? Is it not, um, LOL? He said, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket, wipe the blood beads from his face. Now, if everyone can get to their rooms, that would be great. After that I will lock each and every one of you inside the room, and you must find a key hidden there to get out

and proceed to the first challenge on the first floor, all right? He added, while straightening out his jacket. I'm in my room right now. Scared, shitless and completely afraid of what'll happen next. I just saw a crazy guy murdering another crazy guy. Well, they locked the door behind me, and I can tell you this is your standard hotel room,

a closet, a coffee table, a desk, and the TV hanging on the wall. The bathroom's pretty normal. How am I supposed to find my wife? way out of here. Nothing under or inside the desk. Now, let me check the closet. My God, there's a human torso in the closet. I think it's the guy that's Narca killed, except that his skin is sewn in a why. God, I feel like puking right now. Oh, don't tell me he put the key in there and I have to open it. But two. The riddle in the elevator.

elevator and the first challenge. I felt my sense of humanity slowly leaving my body. I've seen a man killed and mutilated right in front of me. I didn't even blink or feel any slight trace of sadness or disgust. I just stood there, motionless, and watched him being torn apart by the owner of the hotel. Now I'm in my room, lying in bed and watching the ceiling above and asking myself if there's something wrong with me. I know now that I will not be leaving this hotel unless I'm dead or I win the competition. So, after thinking about it for over an hour, I decided to rip the threads that were keeping the skin of the torso together and see if the key was inside.

As I heard the sounds of the internal organs squelching in my hand, squishing some of them, I felt nauseous and instantly threw up. my shirt was soaking wet and covered in blood but still i didn't find the key i took a break threw up again and while breathing heavily and sweating at the same time i decided to search in the last place i could find the key inside the heart i ripped the heart open and in it was the key and one little note with the following message Please take the elevator to the first floor. You have exactly 30 minutes to get back to the room. If you meet the guardian of the first floor, it's kill or be killed. Good luck.

Well, shit. I was thinking that this was it. I'm going to get out of this hotel in a body bag and get thrown into a river, or discarded in a dumpster, or buried in a place where no one will ever find me. I wondered what the hell the guardian of the floor was. I don't believe in the supernatural, but this place had some sort of eerie aura that gave you the willies, you know. Kill or be killed.

That means I need some sort of weapon to defend myself. There was nothing in the room I could have used. But then I saw a cup, which I broke into several pieces, and I stuffed the biggest one inside my pockets. I also had the belt of my pants, which I could have used for choking anyone if I pushed games. to shove. And then I remember that I'd accidentally pocketed the pen I used to sign the papers when I'd checked in, so I wasn't going to battle that guardian or whatever it was, bare-handed.

I took the key and placed it inside the lock. But then I heard a knock, and a frenzy of knocking started. Hey, Sport, do you want to get out here? I know a guy on the third floor can get you to the prize faster. What'd you say? Want to get a million bucks quick? Yeah, I bet you do. Come on, what do you say? Open up and let's go. I ain't going to hurt you, I promise. The fragile voice said from behind the door. Go away, man. I'm not supposed to open the door. I'll be fine. Try next door. Maybe they want to go. I said, trying to get him off my shit. Then he just left and didn't say anything. He knocked on the next door and I heard a man opening up.

and he started screaming. Get off, get off of me. You're killing me. Oh, God! His screams died down into a gurgling as he choked on his own blood. In the silence that followed, I heard Tanaka in the distance.

Settle down, boy. You got fed good. He was a fat one, wasn't he? The man that had knocked on my door began slurping on something. I didn't want to imagine what could make that kind of sense. sound. I turned the key and went to the elevator. I walked through the ivory marble hall,

following arrows that pointed to the elevator, on top of which a flashy light red. Here is where your adventure begins. I pressed the button to call the elevator, and then I heard a ding, and the doors open to reveal a hunchback woman sitting on a small chair. I'm the elevator keeper. My name is Dimitran. I want you to answer me a rill before we go to the fast floor. keep in mind that you only have one chance and if you get it wrong your time for getting the challenge completed will be reduced to 15 minutes you have to be a superhuman to beat the demented hollow queen got in the first floor let me tell you that so answer me this and they salted and fermented inside a stump wrapped in a hundred clothes the woman said her hands were shaking

and her voice was trembling. That's a simple one. The answer's cabbage, and the final product is called sourcrowns, I answered, trusting myself a hundred percent. Very good, very good, she said, her grin revealing rotted yellow teeth that looked ancient. The elevator started ascending, but it was moving slow. The woman didn't say a single word after that,

and I was under the impression, the distance between floors was bigger than what I'd seen outside the hotel. We finally arrived on the first floor. The doors opened and this floor was completely different from the ground floor. The walls were covered in purple and orange, checkered cloth, and there were seven doors, three on the left side of the corridor, and four on the right side, each one with purple and orange lights flickering above. At the end of the hallway was the exit door with a timer above.

The countdown started and I had to move quickly even if I didn't know what I had to do. I was starting to feel like I was in one of those escape rooms, with the major difference that here if I didn't manage to complete the challenge, I'd be dead as disco. I opened the first door and inside was only a chair between the four walls. That was it. I proceeded to open the second door to find another chair with a note on it simply saying, high. Behind door number three, there was a mask lying on the chair with a note attached saying,

Put it on. Door number four had a gun with a single bullet inside, and the note said, Do it or else. I opened door number five only to find a tape recorder. I pressed play, and carnival music started playing through the corridor. Door number six creaked a bit when I opened it. And there was a note with blood stains on it saying, Goodbye, you fuck. And then I heard door number seven opening. Before I even turned, something jumped me, trying to bite me. I freed myself from its grip only to turn around to see a harlequin grinning at me,

blood dripping from his ugly razor-sharp teeth. He said, Hi, now you die. Then he tried to attack me again. I avoided him stepping aside while he started laughing uncontrollably. He was dressed in a checkered purple and orange costume, his face painted white with sprayed blood on it. He started laughing again while coming towards me. I avoided him, but he managed to scratch my left cheek with his metallic claws.

Die, die, die, die, you fuck. He was constantly repeating, as I was getting fatigued. He wasn't big or strong, so I decided to save the bullets. Maybe I'd use it later. The timer said, three minutes and twenty-five seconds left. Shit, I had to hurry. He then came towards me again, and I punched him in the face, and grabbed him by the neck, trying to choke him.

He scratched me again, this time on my belly, and blood started oozing out. He was laughing like crazy, like a demented harlequin. I briefly loosened my grip, but got it back as he seemed to suffocate. I pulled out the pen from my blazer, and I stabbed him in his left eye. He fell to the ground, crying and laughing and screaming altogether. He fell to the ground, and I ran to the exit. In the upper part of the ceiling, I saw a camera zooming in on me. The music stopped, and Tanaka's voice filled the hallway.

Ah, the other eye too, please. "'Hurry up,' he said with genuine satisfaction in his voice, "'like he was pleased with what he'd witnessed, "'a truly sadistic motherfucker.' "'I ran back and took the pen from his left eye and stabbed him in the right one, "'affraid that the timer would run out when I heard the exit door unlocking behind me. "'The timer stopped at zero zero zero seven. "'God, if I were seven seconds later, I'd have been dead.

Behind the final door I saw another chair with an envelope on it. I opened it and it said, Congratulations on completing your first challenge. Now head back to your room for food and rest. The next challenge begins after your eight hours sleep. I'd just killed a psychopath and become a murder of myself and I'm fine with it. After all, there are so many things you can buy with a million dollars. Part 3.

Enjoy your lunch, Mr. Richardson. You see, money rules the world. No matter what form or shape it comes in, here it's gold, coins or banknotes. It always was like this, and it always will be like this. Some people steal it and become rich. Some people work hard and get to be successful entrepreneurs, business persons, and CEOs of companies that are worth billions of dollars.

and then there are people like me who believed it must just be an idiotic game where a guy is asking you questions or making you go through stupid challenges and then you'll be able to win a million bucks and go back home safe and sound with your mind intact well how this shit will play out i don't know what i know for sure is that the grand prize is blood money it is what it is and i just can't quit now i will not quit now I need it so I can leave that god-awful job and get away from all those fucking stupid and boring people. But, as the saying goes, all the glitters is not gold. So I must be extremely cautious.

Keep my eyes open and my ears peeled. And the last important aspect of the matter is that I should follow Tanaka's fricking rules. Just to be sure I can have a minor chance of staying alive and in the competition, and maybe if I'm skilled, or lucky enough, I'll win that curse at briefcase filled with cash. I'm in my room right now. Scared and still bleeding from the cuts, the harlequin decorated my skin with.

It's a good thing that I made it out alive after a fierce fight with that man. Or was it not a man? I just don't know anything anymore. This place seems real and not real at the same time. And the people here are not simply people, I believe. Am I in hell? I'm going to sleep now. I'll update you in the morning. I hear knockings on the door in the middle of the night. I wake up and on the other side a child's crying.

Help me. I can't find my mommy. Please, Mr. I'm cold and afraid. I want my mommy, she says. I check the time and it's 3.33 a.m. I can't open the door. It's against the rules. Just go away. You're not real. If you are, then you're just trying to get me to break the rules so I can get killed, I reply, sleepy and annoyed, while feeling a cold wind entering the room. As I start seeing vapors coming out of my mouth and the temperature suddenly drops,

the door is violently banged on with both hands and feet by whatever it is on the other side. Open the door, open the door, open the door. She kept on hitting the door, and I thought she was going to break it down. If you don't open up right now, my friend Hammerhead will get you on the fourth floor, mister. Oh, I'll tell him to get you good. Open up. I know my mummy's hiding under your bed. My daddy always catches her under the bed, and he has a knife, she insisted,

sounding very angry and dissatisfied with my reply. It suddenly stopped, and the temperature came back to normal. I guess I'm going back to bed now, and hopefully nothing will interfere with my sleep, as I need the rest and recovery for tomorrow morning. I wake up in the morning after my near eight-hour sleep, wondering what's happened with that little girl. Did I ever dream, or was she real? I don't understand this place.

It seems like it's fucking with your head constantly, trying to get you to break the rules. The TV turns on by itself, and Tanaka appears. Congratulations on completing your first challenge, Mr. Richardson. Talk about being on the etche. Please don't eat too much for breakfast. Take a shower and head to the elevator for the next challenge. I hope your stomach's ready because you'll have one of the best lunches you've ever had in your life.

It's my favorite if you are. Don't mind me saying, he says. Oh, and one more thing, he adds. I must inform you that Mr. Cairn, Rogers, sadly brought. broke the rules and has left the competition. There's only five of you left. I wish you the best of luck. He finishes his intervention as the TV shuts itself off. Get out of bed and try to take a shower as best I can.

The wounds from the encounter with the harlequin are still hurting, but I think I'll make it. I take a shower, grab a quick bite, and then change my clothes. I'll be trying to update you in real time as I move forward with, hopefully completing the second challenge. I still have the shard from the broken cup. The pen, although let me rinse it a little. It's still stained with the harlequin's blood after poking his devil eyes out.

And the gun with one bullet inside. I get my blazer on and finally get my belt on my new pair of pants. I press my ear on the door and try to listen if there's any noise outside. And after approximately two minutes of not hearing anything that might disqualify, me from the competition or worse get me killed i decide to unlock the door i go out of the room and head to the elevator and notice a new message above its door saying enjoy your lunch mr richardson the elevator dings as the door's open and this time there's no one inside so i just push the button for the second floor but as opposed to last time this time the elevator barely moves the doors open up again again

quickly and the scenery is completely changed. Well, I'm still in the hotel, but the walls are covered in moss and there's grass on the grounds. I feel like they'd grown a forest inside the hotel. It all feels so real. The hallway seems very long, so I start walking as I see trees in the distance and smoke coming out from behind them. I still walk and walk and then a green arrow appears, pointing forward. After ten minutes I start seeing the shape of a wooden hut and go towards it. The smoke is coming from its chimney and as I enter I see the fire running with a cauldron boiling over it. I then catch sight of a few strange drawings on the walls depicting devils dancing and eating a very big feast together with their leader who's sitting in a throne made out of human bones.

Then on the kitchen table I see raw meatballs on a wooden plate. Probably waiting to be cooked. Green mushrooms and some chopped leaf. Well, I must tell you it smells really good and I'm starting to get hungry. I haven't had some meatballs in quite a long time. I then start hearing some noise coming from outside the shack, and an old woman's voice starts whistling and then she starts saying, One, two, your love my stew. Three, four, you'll ask for more.

Five, six, you'll love. lick your lips. Seven, eight, you'll celebrate. Nine, ten, you'll come again. I hear the door opening, and as I turn around, an old hunchback woman is standing before me. She blows some dust in my face and sends me to sleep. I wake up, pinned to a chair at the eating table, but I can't move my body except my eyes. I see the woman stirring in the course. I see the woman stirring in the quadrant. Lunch is ready. Oh, you'll love the meatballs, I'm sure of it. This is my special secret recipe. You won't find it anywhere in the world. The taste is so good and the texture is something else. But what makes it special is the meat. I have a special kind of meat

that I'm always using for this challenge. The only person that knows the secret is Mr. Tanaka, and he loves it so much, he's now using it for all his meat-based food. made in the zenith kitchen she said in what seemed to be an unending monologue as I couldn't speak I feel my jaw slowly unclenching and the first words that come out of my mouth are I'm so hungry please give me something to eat I say hearing my stomach rumbling while I breathe in the amazing smell that fills the room she then gives me one serving of her stew as I feel my hands moving again I start eating it I feel like I'm in a sort of trance that my hunger is not my own.

I finish the plate and asked for another. This is so good. Can I have one more, please? I say. Do you remember me, Sonny? I'm Demetra from the elevator. I hope you'll like this final serving because you must go back to your room. Mr. Tanaka says there's something big coming for all the participants.

She asks me, as she gives me another serving, her voice sounding like she's not one of the bad guys or girls. Yes, I do, I reply. You're the riddle woman from the elevator. What is this place? I ask her back. This is my home inside the hotel. I created my world here, and I'm responsible for the second challenge. Are you done? she asked me.

I can feel my legs now, and as I look in the plate, I see human eyeballs and ears. teeth and fingers all mixed in with the meatballs. I feel sick. I throw up. I start crying and yelling. What's the matter, Mr. Richardson? Too much salt in the sauce?

She's asking me, mockingly. I start running towards the door, tears flowing down my cheeks. As I look back, she starts laughing while sucking on an eyeball. You want dessert? or maybe some of this magnificent stew to go, she asked me, with her green eyes glowing in the darkness of the forest. I reached the elevator, and finally I'm in my room again. I think that she cooked the remains of that guy next door to me, or what remained of him after you was eaten by whatever it was that ate him, that Ken Rogers guy. I feel sick to my stomach.

all these people or whatever they are just playing crazy and sadistic i can't leave though i must remain calm and strong but what the hell will i eat what will the next challenge bring me what must i endure next for that fucking prize part four i just attended the strangest masked masked masked ball what should have been a refreshing eight-hour sleep became a constant twisting and tossing and turning around in my bed, followed by me feeling sick and getting up to go to the bathroom to throw up. My mind was filled with the images of what I'd last seen inside that stew that I'd eaten, and these thoughts became themselves nauseous. I never thought I'd endure this much for what seems now like pocket change. I mean, given the choice again, I would take my physical and mental health over the million bucks any given day.

For seven hours I felt sick to my stomach and mind, but I was able finally to catch one hour of sleep. One hour that seemed to be an eternity. Why? Well, let me elaborate a little. As soon as I drifted off to sleep, I felt myself leaving my body exiting the room and going straight to the elevator. The hall lights were now dimmed and the arrows that pointed to the elevator weren't lit up. I pressed the button and there was no message for me on top of the doors this. time. I then heard a muffled ding and the doors opened. The inside was pitch black darkness

and the only thing I was able to see were the lights on the buttons. I instinctively pressed three and the elevator started ascending without the doors closing. I passed the first floor and I saw the harlequin waving at me with blood coming out from its now missing eyes. Then I passed the second floor and that witch Demetra scared me when she almost came inside the elevator with me. "'Want another serving, Benny,' she said, "'a crazy laughing, sending shivers down my spine. "'I arrived on the third floor, "'and all I saw was a big red door

"'with a golden handle in the distance. "'It looked like it was far away "'and very close to me at the same time. "'It was standing there idly in the vast darkness "'of the third floor. "'I stepped off from the elevator, "'except I wasn't walking on marble "'or hard concrete floor.

"'I found. like I was stepping on clouds, but with every step I heard a different kind of sound coming out. I started running towards the door and the more I ran, the farther the door was away. The more I slowed down, the closer the door was to me. I decided to walk very slowly, thinking I might get the door to me instead of me going to it. I finally made it, and then, out of the darkness, two statues erected, each pointing me to the door with their index. X-finger. Their voice is blended in some sort of low, baritonal voice. Go inside now, but be careful. All that glitters is not gold, and you must resist emotions

all. They said, while turning their head towards me. What emotions? Love, hate, fear, courage, I thought to myself. I turned the handle of the door and entered inside a room that looked like a big event hall, the sort where rich people go to attend secret parties that you've probably read about online. There was classical music playing inside, and people were chatting, their voices coming together as one. There was another big wooden door at the end of the room, which was bolted shut, so naturally I wondered what that was. When reaching it, I was approached by a masked waiter who asked me if I wanted a drink, which I politely refused because all of this didn't seem real. I mean, I only had human stew back on the second floor. I wouldn't want to be

drinking human blood or something, you know. Something felt wrong with that door. It seemed like it hit something ugly behind it, like all hell would break loose if it was to be opened. Was I the only one not wearing a mask? Or was I? I went to a big mirror that was placed on a wall to my right to see if I was still the same because everything seemed wrong, and to my utmost surprise, I was masked like the rest of the attendants at this grandiose mask ball. I was wearing, out of nowhere, about a mask, the sort they used in Venice, Italy, for their masked balls or parties. It seemed glued to my face. It didn't come off. Why didn't it come off? What was that? Was I dreaming?

Was I in the depths of my mind? Dreams or nightmares? Love, hate, fear, courage, emotions old. Was I wearing the mask, or was the mask wearing me? The finishing decorations on the marble walls were made of gold. The cutlery and platters were the same. Don't touch them. They're poisoned.

Don't drink the champagne, it's poison. I remember thinking to myself. Oh, good. God. The door I'd come through had disappeared. It wasn't there anymore. In its place there was now a double black door. Two people came and opened it, and at that point the music stopped and everyone watched some hooded figures wearing black robes coming from behind them, wearing masks. They seemed to be some sort of initiators of this mask ball. They were simply, the red on eye mask. The old. The orange yellow sun and moon mask, the green woman with snakes in her hair mask, the blue faceless mask,

the indigo shattered glass mask, the violet skull mask, the white happiness mask, and the black sadness mask. The red mask which appeared to be their leader started. We are the council of the nine masks, and we bid you welcome to the greatest Mars ball in the world. He said, clapping and while doing so, every other person attended started choking and dying and then been sucked into the marble floor. Mr. Richardson, each of us will either ask you a question or ask you to do one thing. Depending on your answers and actions, you'll be able to open that wooden door over there and get back to your room.

This is your third challenge. Let it begin. the Red Mask said gravely I then realized that I was in fact on the third floor even if it didn't seem so at first when I first arrived and looked at the hotel the third floor was the only one that had low lights on it was just like it had never been used well I understand why that was it was because this floor was the contestant's mind and they've chosen to fuck with us using these abominations trying to make us insane and makers quit so that we get killed and eaten by whatever it was that had eaten Rogers and then turned to stew disgusting I'd always had a strong mind so I decided there

and then in the palace of my mind that I would take up all their fucking challenges and questions and tricks and whatever the hell else they had for me I was ready this was what they required of me. Red Mask. Where do you think you are right now? What is this? My answer. We're on the third floor and this challenge takes place while I'm sleeping.

This is not a dreamer. This is real. It just happens while I sleep because that's what Mr. Tanaka thought would be good. Orange, yellow mask. If you could have the sun or the moon, which one would you choose and why? My answer, well, I could only choose both. It's a natural cycle of the world. You can't have one without the other.

It'd break the natural order of things. Chaos would ensue and the world would end. Green mask. Have you ever heard of me and what I do to people that look at me? My answer. Oh, keeping my eyes closed upon hearing the snakes in her hair come to life. Yes, I did. You're the Gorgonor, Medusa, and if I look at you, I'll turn to stone.

I then heard her approaching me, snakes caressing my face. Then she left, hisses filling the creeping silence of the room, the blue mask, having produced a serviette out of nowhere. Here's five million in cash and another million in gold. Take it and leave this place. I'm telling you it's no good. My answer? I don't break the rules.

That's not real money or goal. I look back at the serviette and it turned to bugs and cockroaches and worms squirming in a trash bag, climbing over blue mask's arms and body, invading him, the indigo mask. You wake up early and see me in the sky, and you fear me until the day you die. I promise things that should not be. You take it fast, too blind to sea. You take the easy way and sell your soul, but all the glitters is not gold. Who am I?

My answer. Morningstar, Lucifer, the fallen angel, Satan. The violet mask. Finish this. There's a lady who's sure all the glitters is gold. My answer. and she's buying a stairway to heaven. This was easy.

I know my Led Zeppelin. The black and white masks together. We get to ask you two questions. Be careful what you answer. You cannot have one without the other. They need each other to survive, and if you have one, you can beat the other one. My answer.

There's no love without hate, and you must have the courage to kill your fear. I then heard the wooden door open, and as I turned around, the red mask had fallen, revealing Mr. Tanaka's face. I knew why I picked you. You're not only smart and brave, but you resist temptation so well. Fine, so be it. I must warn you that these final challenges will be absolute hell,

and if two of you end up living after the final rounds, it'll be one hell of a bonus round. go through the door and remember the rules oh and before you go as a token of my appreciation take this gold bar from me as a gift he finished his speech seemingly impressed with my performance of the greatest mass ball on earth um thank you but i'd rather not take it i replied why not he asked me confused all the glitters is not gold i finished with a grin heading back through the door, where Tanaka announced that Mrs. Elizabeth Warburg had died in her sleep, and that they'd found her full of bugs, cockroaches, and worms. Well, there's four of us to go. Wish me good luck, part five. The fourth challenge, mess me up good.

My head was buzzing after all that had happened the night before. So I was almost cured by a crazy harlequin. I ate human stew I attended a masked ball inside my head while sleeping and I only slept one hour One strange thing though That crossed my mind earlier

Was why did Tanaka say That there's only five of us left When there were still six people alive Then on the last entry I told you that there were four of us Because I didn't think about it And went along with what he'd said Well the real number

Should be five people left alive right Jones was killed by Tanaka, then Rogers was killed by, I don't know what, when he answered the door, and finally Warburg, probably killed in her version of the Masked Ball, because she took the money from Blue Faceless Mask. I haven't paid attention to this until now, but it kind of makes you wonder. I either think that they drugged one of them and turned them into that Harlegrin guy, or that one of them works for Tanaka, and I'll face him or her later on.

What do you think? Maybe you can help me out with some ideas on this one. Anyways, back to the regular schedule. The end of the competition was drawing nearer. I was wondering what Tanaka would come up with next and how much more shit I'd have to endure to win that million bucks. Then I remembered the little girl who'd said that if I didn't open the door, she'd tell on me to her friend on the fourth floor.

Hammerhead. Yeah, I think that was the name. This hotel is filled with ten. temptations and crazy things that can fuck up your mind, body, your hand, soul. I think what I did best until now is the fact that I kind of fought off anything they've offered me, and that I had this strong will to live and win this competition. You know, I want to go back home with my body intact, and with the grand prize in my hands. Anyways, I left the room to start the next challenge, and I noticed the arrows pointing to

the elevator were now freshly redecorated with the hotel's logo, a big seat, and see inside an upside-down triangle. On top of the elevator door, the following message was displayed. After the mast ball, the hammer will fall. I pondered a bit on the meaning of that, and I hope that I won't be up to some other crazy guy, but deep down, I knew that would not be the case. I could only defend myself by fighting whatever I'd encounter. I still had that glass shard, the pen, the belt, and the single bullet gun, and I hope to God I won't need them. The elevator dings. The door stood open and I pressed the button for the fourth floor. As soon as I started ascending, a putrid smell of blood and dead things started to fill the air.

The doors opened and the smell became unbearable and I immediately vomited in the elevator. At that point I was asking myself if I had anything left in my stomach, you know, It seems like every little fucking thing, every goddamn challenge is supposed to make you feel sick to your stomach and take your sanity away a bit by bit. The view was horrendous. The metallic walls were decorated with hammers in all sizes and shapes known to mankind. Sledge hammers, claw hammers, ballpin hammers, and even some powerhouse hammers. They were all on display encased in some sort of plexigars, like trophies. The glass was stained with blood droplets, which seemed to be fresh, as it was lingering down on it.

The whole room was made of metal, and on the floor there was a blood trail, as if a body had been dragged out on it. I followed it, and soon after, I didn't know where I was anymore. I'd taken so many turns, so many left and right turns, that I didn't even know how to get back. I soon felt like I was lost in a maze of death, and I soon felt like I was lost in a maze of death, and I soon felt like I was left. lost in a maze of death, and that I'd soon be hunted by whatever adversary may come my way, as I felt my heart starting to pound in my chest, an immense pressure invaded my head. I reached a metallic door, had blood smeared on it, and was dripping down from the handle. I opened it, and inside hooks were dangling from the ceiling with rotting animal carcasses

hanging on them. I could see carcasses of cows, horses, goats, ready to be able to be be portioned and cooked. I made my way through them, and at the end of this room there was another door with an employee only sign on it. I decided to slide it open, so I pushed it to the right side. This wasn't against the rules, right? And I saw dead people hanging from the ceiling in hooks, blood dripping on the floor, and some of them were hung head down, probably to drain the blood faster. There were even bodies on the floor, one resting on another as if they were resting after the fight they'd put up with their killer. What the fuck is going on here? Upon closer inspection, I could see that two of the dead guys were Zed, Trutz, and that farmer guy,

Dan Williams. Both were dead as disco, and they were probably killed by whatever it is that guards this door. I heard the door behind me opening, and I quickly decided. to hide between the cadavers lying on the floor, myself pretending to be dead. I have my gun ready in one hand and the pen in the other, and maybe later I'd be given the chance to put it through the skull of whoever was coming. I heard the entrance door opening and then some clinks and clanks on the metal table at the far end of the room, probably the weapons used for killing them. Then I heard him speak.

Right, you're all drained up. Little hell will love drinking your blood when I get back. You look so much better when you stay still, you know. Why do you cause all that fuss before you die? I don't know. Right, wonderful. Let me get you down from here and place the next lot of these shiny hooks. He said, his voice resembling that of an evil Gordon Ramsey.

Shit, shit, what the fuck am I going to do when, who the fuck is little hell? I thought to myself, almost pissing. my pants. I peaked a little from behind the two dead bodies I was hiding behind and I saw a large approximately six foot five tall guy. His shiny hair slicked back nicely. He then turned around and I saw he had one glass eye, a large scar on his face and he was wearing a black leather apron with hammers attached to his belt, encircling his waist. He then took the bodies down one by one and placed each on a metal table. And I managed to see what he was.

he was doing. He was hammering whatever joints and articulations he could, ankles, wrists, knees, elbows, and then he smashed a final blow in the center of the forehead. The sound was sickening as I heard the hammer dropping and the bones cracking. It made me feel like my own bones were made of rubber. He then turned towards me and started grabbing bodies to put them on the hooks. It was two bodies away from me, and it was there and then I decided, to try and stab him in the temple with a pen and shoot him in the head good i'd never used a gun before in my life so the probability of me missing was very very high i jumped when he was grabbing the body next to me and shot first but i only managed to hit him in the shoulder ah you motherfuck oh you're so fucking dead

you don't fucking mess with hammerhead don't you know that He yelled in pain. Fortunately, I was faster than him, and more important was the fact that the hammer he wanted to take out from his belt had got stuck. I jumped over him and grabbed a hammer from the table quickly and hit him in the head, knocking him out cold. My heart was racing, so I decided the best thing to do was finish him off for good, maybe give him a taste of his own medicine,

in the same way he killed those innocent folks. I turned him around and decided I should bash his wrist, with the hammer so he wouldn't be able to use his hands but before doing that i decided to do something that i'd gotten very good at i stabbed him in the eye with my pen so he couldn't see me he let out a huge scream and tried to find my throat before raising himself from the floor he was blindly searching for me where are you you fucking son of a bitch he said i'll fucking kill you he added while walking around like a drunk man inside that human abattoir. "'I'm right behind you,' I added, while hitting him in the side of his right knee.

"'He let out a huge scream, kneeled, and then I did the same with his left one. "'You like killing innocent people, piece of shit,' I said, while pressing on the bullet wound. "'Well, I'd say to look me in the eyes before I fucking kill you. "'But you can't do that now, can you? "'Stay still, you, psycho. Let me take your fucking eye out. I want a souvenir from you. I'll teach you to kill innocent people. I finally added before swinging the hammer to his right temple.

After I heard a popping sound, blood started coming out. The hammer had got stuck in his skull, and I wasn't able to pull it out. So the hunter became the hunted. The adrenaline rush was huge. I know you might think I'm a psycho myself, but I did what needed to be done to save my life. I then got out of the abattoir, but the corridors I came through had changed, and the scenery wasn't the same. Instead of those cold metallic walls with hammers on them, they were now decorated with the musical instruments placed on red velvet tapestry.

Violins, guitars, flutes, cellos were all displayed on the walls, but the blood was still there. I walked and walked, and then I arrived in front of a big wall on which a painting of Tanaka was hanging, his hands pointing to the left and right sides. A voice started out of nowhere. Congratulations once again, Mr. Richardson. Now, as a token of my appreciation for your hard work efforts and dedication, I'll be given you a choice. On your left is the way back to your room, where you'll be resting for the next eight hours, as per agreement. On your right side, however, you'll be able to go straight to the next challenge, thus gaining a considerable advantage in the competition. I can give you my word of honour that there's no trick here this time. So, what's your

choice going to be? He added before the corridor was lit up with a powerful bright light to my right and with a dark and bluish light to my left. Now, I've been standing here for the past 15 minutes thinking of what I should do and thinking of how many people are still in the competition is it two or three of us left so should I take the left side or the right side part six I heard what nightmares sound like one thing I learned while staying at this hotel is that you shouldn't trust anyone so I went back to my room to get the sleep I so much needed after all there were only two or three of us left and I didn't know anything about the progress the others had made so

far how and why should i trust a voice telling me that i get to have an advantage over other participants i didn't seem fair to the competition i didn't even know if it was Tanaka's voice or not it seemed well too convenient to fall for you know so anyways i finally got to sleep a full eight hours without any disturbances or crazy people banging on my door After I woke up I had something to eat to get my energy levels back up, although the food had no meat in it because, you know, shit happened while I was on the second floor. I went to the elevator, locked, loaded and ready for my next challenge, and at that point I felt that nothing could stop me.

I mean, I'd gone through so much since coming here that I now felt unstoppable. With only two challenges left, I told myself that I won't be leaving this place in a body bag, but simply with a briefcase full of money. Oh, those pristine hundred-dollar bills. I've noticed that the arrows point into the elevator remain the same as last time, but the message hanging on top of the elevator's door stated, The symphony speaks the truth.

It will never lie. Just let it carry you, or else you will die. The elevator door dinged, and I pressed the button for the fifth floor. As I was going up, I started hearing, strange music in my head all of a sudden. I didn't know where it was coming from, but I can honestly swear that it was the most beautiful music

I've ever heard in my entire life. Then, as the elevator door stood open, it all stopped. And the view in front of me was, well, let's say, unusual. It seemed that the floor, walls, and ceiling were made out of human flesh, but with no skin attached. I saw muscle fibres, tissues,

and even blood vessels that were somehow alive like a person was trapped in those walls. Then eyes started watching me, blinking rapidly, following my every move as I was slowly going forward into the unknown. I was wondering what the challenge on this floor could be. I wasn't terrified necessarily by the fact that it looked like that, but because I felt that I was constantly being watched and observed by some force that was planning how to kill me. The sense of dread and the terror that followed were unbearable. Faded violin music started playing throughout these flesh halls. The notes, the symphonies and the melodies were slowly flooding my brain with all their enticing heavenly touch.

Or was it a hellish touch? I started feeling sick and nauseous because stepping on human flesh was gross. Blood was jumping everywhere, and so I decided to run towards whatever I was running to. I then reached a red door that had a human face. etched on it it was gross and terrifying because it was just the left side of the face its mouth open wide in horror like it wanted to scream its eye constantly twitching and moving in agony as my sight went down to see the full image I noticed its hand was broken into several spots in a zigzag fashion with the index finger pointed to

the handle as if it was inviting me to go in I stepped inside a concert hall where Debussy's Claire de Loon played in the speakers that hung all over its corners. The red velvet curtains were drawn and I saw approximately 100 skeletons all looking to the stage as if they were waiting for the concert to start. The music shifted to Rachmaninov's Isle of the Dead and then the skeletons started turning to ash, leaving all the seats empty. I heard the door opening behind me and I saw that Hacker kid. Oh, he was as pale as a ghost.

ass, probably stricken with fear. He glanced at me, nodded his head, and took a seat somewhere, twenty chairs to my left. Then, after a while, I heard the announcement that came through the speakers. This evening's lovely, hellish and heavenly concert will begin in five minutes. Please take your seats and turn off your mobile devices. Enjoy the show. The door creaked open again, and the military lady came in, running and panting. Probably. she didn't want to be late for the show. She passed me, not even noticing that I was there. She was shaking in fear, sweat dripping down from her hands and neck. The final announcement was repeated. The lights were dimmed and the curtains drawn to the sides, revealing a skinless

scarlet woman who started playing a violin made of human bones, the strings and stick made of human hair. I don't know why, but I started feeling sad for her. Her her movement seemed disjointed and there was something off about her it didn't look like she wanted to be here like she was trapped in someone else's flesh and muscles but the music the music turned my mind into something that i'll never want to see ever again the notes morphed inside my head into desperate screams echoing into oblivion as i started having visions of a woman who was burning inside a concert hall screaming for help but playing the violin nonetheless not stopping the concert even though she was dying.

Then I heard a phone ringing. It was the kids. She stopped playing and went to the kid who became unable to move. Tears of blood started flowing from his eyes as she kissed her finger and gently pressed it onto the kid's lips. She then pinched the skin on the centre of his forehead. And like through magic she ripped all of his skin and started eating it. That poor guy was still alive.

and he was watching as she was devouring what was once a part of his body. She then repeated the procedure with his flesh, leaving that kid only a skeleton. The military lady and I stood motionless in horror and watched this grandiose violin concert resume, one that became a feast for the skinless scarlet woman. Then she continued her concert, and music began slashing and screaming and creeping in my skin, as I felt a strange tickling sensation that went up to the base of my skull. Then I felt like I was tied to that chair, and the music became so sad that I, too, started crying.

I started seeing strange shapes and colors. I was having visions of a place that seemed to be far away, desolate and deserted. A realm filled with the music of the dead, where skinless people were roaming free in those arid lands, seemingly headed to nowhere. Of course I didn't understand any of it and why this was happening to me. I felt like this was some sort of hell

made exclusively out of people who had no skin on them. Were they some sort of distant relatives of ours? Were they angels or demons? Nephilims. I honestly can't tell you what they were, but I felt like it was very real, in the sense that it existed 100%. as I came back to my senses, the skinless scarlet woman who played the violin finally finished her concert.

She took a bow and the military lady and I stood up and out of applause, but we never stopped crying. I honestly can't tell you why I was crying, but what I can tell you is that it wasn't out of fear. It felt like that music I'd heard made us feel that way, but what I felt was alien because it was a whole new emotion for me. Then I felt a sharp pain on my left arm, and when I looked I saw that a piece of my skin was missing, and a bloody two-inch diameter circle appeared in the upper part of my forearm. She probably didn't want to kill me, too, because she already ate that kid, but she did want to take a souvenir. As she finally left the stage, Mr. Tanaka emerged from the side, clapping. Ah, what a beautiful violin concert. Miss Scarlet always fascinated.

us with her unique style that allows her to create a distant world through her music. Wonderful, wonderful, yikes, that poor kid. Well, they told you to turn off your phones, didn't they? Sylvie, thanks for being my observer until now. I'd say this young man standing here in front of us acted in such a great way that we could give him the prize now. Don't you agree? He said, as I realized that Sylvie Deschamps was his liaison, his mole in this. contest. Yes, we could, Mr. Tanaka, but he still has the last challenge he needs to complete. He was good until now. He's the only one left in the competition, but the hardest challenge is yet to come. Let's not hurry with assumptions, shall we? Another thing, though. I just found out

before coming here that someone's been interfering with the hotel sound system, and that someone was the hacker kid. So even if he didn't die right now, he would have been discreet. He would have been disqualified she replied to him looking like she finally was at ease with the whole thing they both wished me good luck as they left the scene and instructed me to go back to my room to rest properly for the final challenge well i must win this part seven it didn't go as plan winner winner chicken dinner that's what they say when you win something big right when you're so close to winning the goddamn grand prize you start asking yourself what you're going to do with all the money will you buy a new house a new car a small island in the

pacific ocean where you're going to party for the rest of your life with beautiful ladies and expensive cocktails but then again will material wealth bring you happiness and peace of mind especially after knowing how you'd come up with that money blood money you had to kill people beings or whatever it was, just so you can win it. I asked myself these questions, but the thing I wanted the most was to make it out alive from there. I mean, I would have given that money away just to make sure that I go back to my shitty job and apartment in one piece.

Back to the fucking fuss and the stupid people always asking me, Hey, Ben, how's your weekend? Or, hey, Benny, have you seen the new TV series airing right now on the TV where they make people kill each other for one million bucks or man you son of a gun you won that shit didn't you you won a million bucks my man you killed those freaks and got away and you're a millionaire now i legit thought that if i ever go back there they'll ask me a whole bunch of stupid questions because i remember tanaka saying that this show will be broadcast on the tv but how could it air with all the violence and all the killing, all these crazy things going on inside this cursed hotel.

Would the people at home watch it and cheer when seeing violence, blood and people killing each other, like it was some kind of sick fucking joke? And all for one million dollars. After surviving the violin concert, I went back to my room and slept for almost five hours straight. Up until the point I was awakened by some strange barkings I'd heard in the distance of the hallway outside my room. Although at times muffled, it was still one of the most horrific sounds I've ever heard. The barking then turned into howlings, and it seemed that they were getting closer and closer to my door. He reached the door of my room, and whatever was out there started scratching it rapidly.

Then it started banging on my door, and I heard a voice from the other side. I'll be waiting for you up there upon that sixth floor. I'm starting to get hungry again. you'll make a nice meal. I know you can hear me right now, but you don't have to say anything. Enjoy your final hours of sleep. Then you'll get to sleep forever.

It whispered with a raspy voice, making me understand that I was talking to whatever the hell was waiting for me on my last challenge. Why was it here, though? Did that thing want to personally come near me before the final confrontation just to scare me? or was it scared of me killing it, as I did with the rest of them. I decided that I worry about it in the morning,

because I need to get my strength back up for the end that it was to come. It was only a matter of whose end, mine or that thing. I woke up in the morning. I was feeling really good, yet anxious. I ate some fruit and a bunch of vegan dishes. I got out of the room and headed to the elevator. The message on top of the elevator doors now said, Welcome to the final challenge. We wish you good luck.

I thought it to be a bland message for a man who endured so much and risked his goddamn life for a petty prize. At this point, I just wanted it to be over. I pressed the six button, and the elevator started ascending. With each passing floor, I was having flashbacks of my life, as uninteresting as it was. I still had them. I think I was afraid of dying,

yet my will to stay alive grew even stronger. I knew I had to kill whatever the fuck was guarding the last floor. As the door stood open, I saw a maze in front of me, a maze made out of barbed wire with shiny white and red arrows pointing to different directions and liquids dripping from them. fucking gross I started hearing a voice in the speakers I very well knew this was the real deal now

because the hacker kid was dead and gone Oh I hope you won't die on us now Mr. Richardson That'd be such a pity Let me introduce you to our very own Amazing, beautiful and skilled elite hunter Little Hell The Guardian of Hotel Zenith Wonderful

All you have to do is run as fast as you can till you see the exit sign where I'll be waiting for you with a grand prize best of love tanaka said enthusiastically from wherever he was at the time and then it began the howling the barking and an evil laugh were resounding through the maze I decided that I would run towards a path with the white arrow simply because red was the color of blood and I was sick of seeing so much blood in a short space of time. I started running like crazy and I felt a sort of creature taking shape out of nowhere behind me. I turned and I saw the horror following me. It was some sort of a dog. All its legs were made out of metal. It had long, sharp, bony teeth with spit dripping down

on the ground. It only had one red eye that looked like it was enraged with hunger. It started stampeding towards me and as i ran and ran as fast as i could i heard the dog from hell saying i'll get you human i can't wait to eat your flesh and drink your blood as he was howling barking growling and speaking all at the same time he charged towards me took a leap and he scratched my right leg with his metallic paw and let out a scream i tripped and i rapidly got back up and to my surprise i wasn't limping. I looked back and the dog was gone. Was it playing with its prey? I remembered I had that shard of glass in my pocket. I took it out and squeezed it in my hand, in so much fear that I almost cut the inside of my palm. I took some left and right turns, and when I look back,

little hell wasn't there anymore. I saw a block of barbed wire, so I decided to shelter there and evaluate my options. I ran for at least 10 to 15 minutes, and I felt like the end of me was getting nearer. What if I tried to trick the dog? It only had one eye, so if I tried to stick the glass in his eye, that'd be it. He couldn't see me anymore.

Of course, he could have smelled me, but it'd been a whole lot easier to get to the exit, wherever that exit may have been. I took out some barbed wire, and while having the shirt wrapped around my hand, I bent until it. it looked like I could hold my shirt so it would resemble a human body. I then placed the shirt, my pants and shoes, onto that barbed wire.

I looked like a bad attempt at making a scarecrow. Talking about blood, I decided I'd cut my hand and splash my clothes with it. Maybe I'd lure that fucking dog there. I did so, letting out a huge scream and kept hiding behind that barbed wire block. I heard the beast coming. laughing mockingly, asking me if I was all right. I peaked and I saw it as it said, there you are, my main cause, come here, as it was charging towards the fake me. He started chewing on my clothes and got itself entangled in the barbed wire.

I came out of hiding and went straight to him. Here, little doggie, take this, you little shit, I said as I stabbed, its eye with the glass shard. I then took it out of its eye and slashed its throat. It let out a huge scream and started rubbing itself on the barbed wire, eventually getting stuck. I took my ripped clothes and shoes, dressed up and resumed running. After taking, I don't know how many turns of direction, I finally came to the exit sign, where I saw an intercom. I pressed the button and a voice on the other side said, "'Yes?'

"'To which I replied. "'Tanaka, I won your game. "'I've beaten all the challenges. "'Open up and give me the money. "'I want to go home.' "'I was panting, breathing heavily, "'and in so much mental stress and physical pain "'that the thought of going home seemed the best thing then.

"'Yep, my shitty little home. "'At least I had a bed to sleep in every night. Tanaka opened. Oh, you're alive, I see. Very good. Here's your prize, Ben, he said, as he handed me the prize. Um, thanks, I guess. I wouldn't do that again. Fuck's sake, I said, while opening the briefcase and seeing the money inside.

All right. Can I go now? I asked him. Just a moment. "'Where's little hell?' he asked me, concerned. "'Really, Tanaka? "'Really? I don't fucking know.' "'I stabbed its eye and slashed his throat, "'and then I ran like crazy,' I replied, visibly irritated. "'You did what? You stabbed my dog in the eye and slashed his throat?

"'Are you insane?' "'He burst out in anger. "'What the hell did I tell you? "'Did I tell you you can hurt or kill it? No, I didn't. I only said you should run as fast as you can, he said. Well, I had to do it, or else it would have killed me, I exclaimed in utter disgust. Then Tanaka rubbed his chin, thought about the situation for a minute, and said,

I can't allow this. Even if you were absolutely spot on with everything, you followed all the rules. Well, you killed my dog, and that's a no-no. Nobody kills my fucking dog. you didn't pay attention to what I've said and there are consequences for that Ben don't worry I won't kill you I'll even let you keep the money you can spend it anyway you see fit booze drugs hookers I don't give a shit about your earthly sins looking me straight in the eyes I need a new right hand now I choose you if you refuse

I will kill you I need someone to help me with the hotel maybe with the next edition of this contest. Well, you'll get good pay. It's going to be like a normal job, except your boss won't be a scumbag. You start one week from now. I'll send the driver to get you. He concluded.

I got out of the hotel, and I saw the same driver waiting for me outside. I handed him a thousand bucks to push the pedal to the metal. As I look back, Hotel Zenith was. gone. Like it didn't even exist. Well, I guess I'll start a new job one week from now, wherever that job may be. Alive and kicking. And so once again, we reach the end of tonight's podcast. My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories and to you for taking the

time to listen. Now, I'd ask one small favor of you. Wherever you get your podcast wrong, Please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast. That's it for this week, but I'll be back again, same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.