I Want to Play a Game
(A/N: I cooked with the opening, but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy the fanfiction. I'll post the next chapter when I feel like it.)
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[Narrator's POV]
"Toya Setsuno, I want to play a game." The man jolted awake, sweat dripping down his face as his name was abruptly called. His eyes were bloodshot, as he looked around the dimly lit and dusty room, confused about where he was and how he got there.
The place appeared to be abandoned in nature with all the junk lying around, yet the organization of said junk, in tangent with the faint luminescent yellow glow of a singular light bulb seemed to indicate that the room was at least being used for some time.
Setsuno attempted to get off the metal chair he sat in out of pure confusion regarding the whole ordeal but was met with tight, metal restraints that covered both of his arms. Similarly, old metal restraints tightly held onto his stomach and thighs, making it so that any individual without a strength-related quirk couldn't escape.
But what could be argued as the most crucial detail was the simple contraption around his neck. Hovering only a few centimetres away from touching skin was a sharp silver blade that aimed directly at a major artery.
"What the fuck?!" Setsuno's eyes quickly fell onto the retro-styled TV that was roughly 5 metres away from him and was placed on a simple wooden stool for the sake of being eye-leveled.
Displayed on the grainy screen was a mechanical puppet that seemingly talked on its own. The thing was dressed in a tuxedo and had messy black hair, which served to contrast the puppet's pale white face. Along with having a protruding brow and cheeks, the latter had red spirals painted on them, which matched the red lips that formed a grin.
"For years you have lived a life without meaning, Toya Setsuno," the mechanical voice called out to the man strapped to the chair. "Betrayed by the one you loved the most, you fell into despair. Instead of rising from your pain, you chose a path of cowardice, attempting to end it all. But even in death, you found no solace, no reason, only further humiliation as a hero saved your life…"
Setsuno tensed at the horrid memory being brought up. But as equally as he was horrified, the blond-haired man was also shocked at how the puppet speaking to him knew such private information about himself.
"You squandered this second chance, turning your pain into a weapon to harm others. You became a thief, not out of necessity, but out of spite, stealing what you believed was owed to you. Your quirk, a gift that could have been used for good, became your curse, trapping you in a cycle of emptiness."
Setsuno gritted his teeth in anger before shouting profanities. "Let me the fuck go!" he yelled, his voice laced with spite and anger as he thrashed his bound hands, hoping for some miracle that could set him free.
"But today, Setsuno, you will be given another chance. A chance to redeem yourself, to find purpose, or to perish in your despair." Out of instinct, Setsuno tried to activate his quirk in the hopes that an object he was looking at would bash his restraints and somehow set him free.
Unfortunately for him, the objects in the broken-down room were too big. After all, the man was used to stealing wallets or jewellery from passing pedestrians or disarming opponents he was fighting, not large metal barrels or other miscellaneous junk of similar size.
The puppet continued to speak to the thief, his voice reverberating around the room. "As you have may noticed, your hands are securely fastened in metal gauntlets. Below your feet is a pedal, much like one you'd find in a car. But this is no ordinary pedal, Setsuno. If you press down hard enough, hidden blades within the gauntlets will sever your hands at the wrists."
The puppet's voice was steady, devoid of emotion, as it explained the gruesome mechanism in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Should you choose to do so, you will lose both hands, but the trap will release you, and you will be free to leave this place alive. However, if you hesitate, if you do nothing, the blade hovering over your neck will descend in exactly one minute, severing a major artery. You will die here, bleeding out in the dark. The only difference between now and before, is that no one will save you."
The sheer magnitude of the situation began to crush Setsuno. He could feel his heartbeat racing, almost ripping through his chest. The choice was horrifying — lose his hands and live, or cling to them and die. The puppet's voice cut through his thoughts once more.
"This is your final chance, Setsuno. Will you fight for your life, sacrificing your ability to use your quirk? Or, will you allow your past mistakes to claim you once again? The clock is ticking, Setsuno. Live or die, make your choice…"
Like that, the scene on the TV quickly flickered to a timer that lasted for 60 seconds as Setsuno was left to make the ultimate choice. "Help me," he muttered to himself in a low breath. "HELP ME, SOMEONE!!!" He screamed even louder, using all the oxygen in his lungs before having to gasp for more air.
55…
54…
The man was hyperventilating, each breath coming quicker as the pressure of the choice slowly crushed him. Setsuno's bloodshot eyes glanced at the restraints on his hands, his mind painting the idea of sharp, rotating blades that would sever them. The sheer thought of it made the man want to puke his innards.
45…
44…
Sweat dripped down his face, mixing with the tears that he refused to let fall. "I can't do it," he whispered to himself, his voice trembling. "I can't lose my hands… I need them… I NEED THEM!!!" But as the seconds ticked away, the fear of death clawed at him even more fiercely.
35…
34…
The room seemed to close in on him, the walls inching closer, suffocating him. He thrashed against the restraints in a last-ditch effort, pulling at the metal with all his might, but the binds only dug deeper into his flesh. "NO, NO, NO!!!" he screamed, the raw desperation in his voice reverberating off the cold walls. He glanced at the pedal beneath his feet, his foot twitching as if considering the action, but fear paralyzed him.
25…
24…
Tears streamed down Setsuno's face as he realized he was running out of time. He stared at his hands, his fingers trembling as he imagined them being sliced off. His quirk — his only means of survival in this brutal world — would be gone. "I can't," he choked out, his voice barely a whisper. "I can't do it. I need my hands… I need them to live…"
15…
14…
13…
Every fibre of Setsuno's being screamed at him to press the pedal, to do whatever it took to escape. His leg twitched violently, his heel hovering over the pedal, but his mind recoiled at the thought.
The ticking of the countdown displayed on the screen blended with the sound of his heartbeat, the two creating a deafening drum that drowned out all reason. "I don't want to die!" he cried out, his voice cracking under the weight of his terror. "Please… someone… SAVE ME!!!"
5…
4…
Setsuno's breath caught in his throat as he looked one last time at the pedal, his vision blurring from the tears. He could barely think, his mind overwhelmed by fear and regret. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry," he muttered, unsure of who the apology was for — himself, the life he wasted, or the ones he hurt. The blade above him glinted in the dim light, the final seconds of the countdown looming.
3…
2…
1…
The blade made contact with Setsuno's neck, easily cutting through the external carotid artery. Blood gushed out of his neck like a fountain, staining his shirt as it made contact with the floor and pooled under him. His eyes grew heavy and weak as he understood that he failed the ultimatum given to him by the puppet.
"Game over…"