Game One

Haisley

Then, a countdown begins—one minute.

"Do it!" I shout, desperation seeping into my voice. "The only way to survive is to do what it asks! Anything it asks, you have to do!" My eyes lock onto hers, pleading. We've seen enough to know there's no choice in this twisted game.

Olivia's entire body shakes as she forces herself forward, each step agonizingly slow. She sits on the chair, right in front of the portal—its edges swirling with darkness.

"I—I see another woman," she whispers, her voice trembling with fear. We all lean forward instinctively, wanting to see, but a red line has appeared on the ground between us and the portal, a clear warning to stay back. Crossing it feels like tempting death.

The portal opens wider, swallowing the chair. Olivia remains visible, but only her back is facing us now, her form slowly fading into the eerie glow of the portal.

"I'm in a circle... with four others," she cries out, her voice shaking, filled with terror.

The screen flashes again.

Truth - The game you play will determine if you survive. You will each be asked a question. You must answer truthfully to stay alive. Want to win faster? Lie. If no one notices, you're safe. If someone catches your lie, you die.

My stomach twists violently. Lie to win faster? Who the hell would risk that? Surely telling the truth is the safest option, right?

Before we can process it, the screen flickers once more.

Dark - Your truth won't be easy to share. It will be your deepest, darkest secret—the one you swore never to repeat. Good luck.

The words hang in the air like a curse. My mind reels, spinning with terror at the thought. What will my question be? I don't want to think about it. I can't.

I glance back at Olivia. She's trembling, her voice barely audible now. I can hear the low hum of conversation coming from within the portal, but it's muffled, indistinct. I can't make out what's happening to her, but I know this is far from over.

I try to imagine what secret they'll drag out of me, what truth I'll be forced to spill. My heart races, pounding in my chest, but there's nothing I can do. All I know is, there's no winning this. Not really.

We're all just waiting to be broken.

Olivia returns to us, but she's not the same. Her eyes are hollow, her body trembling as she wraps her arms around her legs, rocking back and forth like she's trying to keep herself from falling apart. I want to comfort her, to reach out and hug her, but before I can move, the screens flash again.

And there, glowing in harsh, unforgiving letters, is my name.

Shit.

I told her she had to face it, and now it's my turn. My legs feel like lead as I force myself to stand. My body is screaming at me to stop, to run, but there's nowhere to go. With every step toward the chair, it feels like the ground is falling away beneath me. I sit down, and before I can react, cold metal clamps snap around my wrists and ankles, locking me in place.

The portal around me swirls, the air distorting, growing thick with an unnatural energy. My breath comes in shallow gasps as the swirling stops, revealing four other women sitting in a twisted circle.

These have to be the women I'm up against. The ones under Zyraxial, like me.

Suddenly, he appears. The demon—the demon. The one I saw in the mirrors, in the cursed depths of my laptop screen. His form is massive, shadowy, with burning red eyes that seem to bore straight into my soul. His gaze flickers between us before locking onto one woman.

"Samantha," the demon rasps, its voice low and grinding, like bones being dragged across stone. "Two years ago, you did something out of selfishness. What was it?"

The air in the room thickens with tension, every pair of eyes turning to Samantha. Tears well up in her eyes, her entire body trembles as her head begins to shake, silently refusing. But it doesn't matter. The ticking begins—an ominous countdown—and the demon waits.

"Please!" she begs, but the demon doesn't flinch. It only watches, waiting for her confession, as the countdown ticks away.

Ten seconds. Nine. Eight.

"I left my baby on the doorstep of a stranger!" she finally screams, her words crashing out of her like a dam breaking. My stomach drops, and I can't believe what I've just heard. Left her baby? To a stranger?

I want to ask her questions. Is the baby okay? Where is it now? But there's no time for that. The demon's eyes narrow, and a screen flickers to life, showing the moment—Samantha, carrying a crying infant, placing it on a stranger's doorstep before walking away.

"Watch," the demon demands, its voice thick with malice. Samantha's head snaps up, her sobs growing louder as the other0 screens turn on and begin to play back her darkest moment. It's not just forcing her to confess—it's replaying the worst moment of her life. This isn't a game, this is torture.

And then, those burning eyes turn to me.

"Haisley," the demon growls, its gaze locking onto me like a predator cornering its prey. "At the age of eight, what happened, and what did you do?"

No. No.

My eyes widen, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it's going to explode. I glance around, desperate for an escape, but there is none. The ticking begins again, and I fight back the rising tide of tears. This is fucking twisted.

"I—" The words die in my throat, choking me. The demon steps forward, and I see the timer hit five seconds.

"I watched my father murder my mother and never spoke of it," I blurt out, my voice cracking as the confession rips itself from my soul. My head drops in shame, the memory tearing through me.

Screams fill the air—her screams. My mother's. And there it is, playing out on the screen. The memory I've spent my whole life trying to bury, now laid bare for all to see.

Fear had silenced me as a child, and by the time I was ready to speak, it was too late. He was already dead, and it haunts me to this day. Tears blur my vision as I wish I could wipe them away, forcing myself to stay focused, knowing that this is far from over.