It's quiet when the guards are done.I watch with a mixture of frustration and detachment as the guards swiftly but carefully package the bodies of the destitute children, needless forms now mere specimens to be disposed of.I can practically smell the metallic stench of blood, the once clear floor now splattered with crimson stains.My jaw tightens as I observe the grim scene unfolding before me on the security monitors. This was not how things were supposed to go. We had carefully monitored their reactions, and yet somehow, the etc – the failures- had slipped through our fingers.I lean forward in my chair, my brow furrowing as I study the gruesome tableau. The guards move with practised efficiency, their movements clinical and detached as they zip the bodies into the black body bags. I can't help but notice the way the fabric clings to the contours of their small, fragile frames.A muscle in my jaw twitches as I recall the hours of planning, the meticulous data collection, and t
I quietly close the door, nodding to the students waiting outside before making my way down the dimly lit hallway. My mind is still reeling from the conversation I just had with Everett. I can't believe she was so forthcoming with the answers I needed. But it's all so….. convenient. Everything about this situation makes me feel... suspicious. Something doesn't feel right.As I approach my room, I see Chris leaning against the door, waiting for me with a laid-back expression on his face. He straightens when he sees me, shoving his hands in his pockets casually.''So…, How did it go?" he asks, his tone passive.Walking past him, I grimace, unlocking the door and stepping inside. "It was... something," I murmur, collapsing onto my bed. Chris follows me in, sitting in the chair by my desk."Are you sure going to see her again is a good idea?" he asks, his voice laced with uncertainty. I don't even know how he knew where I was going.I shrug, pinning him with a hard stare. "It doesn'
I recoil from her, a chill winding down my spine.How could she?I grit my teeth, my resolve hardening as I glare at the girl."We'll see about that," I hiss before turning and striding out of the room, my mind racing.As I make my way back to my room, I can't help but feel a sense of dread. Everett's words have only deepened my suspicions, and I know I'm over my head. But I'm not going to let them win. I'll do anything to stop them, even if it means facing my father.When I reach my room, Chris is waiting for me, his expression tense. "Well?" he asks, his voice laced with concern.I collapse onto my bed, running a hand through my hair. "It's worse than I thought," I murmur. "Everett told me everything."Chris's eyes widen, and he leans forward in his chair. "What did she say?"I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I will tell him. "It's my father," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "He's the one who sent the signals, and they've been using me as a pawn in their game a
The world around me warps and distorts, the training room melting away as I'm plunged into a vivid hallucination. Suddenly, I find myself on a sprawling battlefield, the air thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder and the cries of wounded soldiers.Before me stands a Destitute, his features blurred and indistinct. But there's something familiar about him, something that tugs at the back of my mind. I don't hesitate, my training kicking in as I charge forward, my fists clenched and ready to strike.The Destitute raises his hand, his eyes wild with fear. "Ande, it's me!" he shouts, his voice desperate. Ande? My name echoes in my mind, but in this haze of battle, I can't place its significance. All I know is that I've been trained to destroy the Destitutes, to eliminate them at all costs.I tackle the Destitute to the ground, my blows raining down with a primal fury. I feel his bones crack beneath my knuckles, his cries of pain fueling my onslaught. This is what I was made for, what
I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest. "Who's there?" I murmur, my voice barely above a breath.The whisper grows more vigorous, more insistent. "Ande, you must listen. The coordinates... you must find them."I glance over my shoulder, but the guards remain oblivious, their attention focused elsewhere. Turning back to the mirror, I stare into my own eyes, searching for the source of the voice."The coordinates?" I whisper, my brow furrowed. "What do they mean?""They are your way out, Ande," the voice responds, its tone urgent. "You must find it! Before it's too late!."I hesitate, my mind racing. Could this be the same voice, the same man from my dream? The one who spoke of freedom, of a chance to break free from the school's control?Without hesitation, I reached out and clenched my fist against the mirror, the glass shattering into a thousand glittering shards. The students outside immediately spring into action, pounding on the door and shouting for me to open up."Ande!" one of
As the game is about to begin, I glance around the room, searching for a familiar face. But Chris isn't here.I scan the crowd again, searching for any sign of the other boy. But he's nowhere to be seen, and a pang of guilt twists in my gut. I pull a nearby student aside, and my grip was tight on their arm."Where's Chris?" I demand, my voice low and menacing.The student's eyes widen, and they stammer, "H-he's still in the hospital. He couldn't play today."I feel a surge of relief and regret. Relief that Chris is safe, for now, but regret that I was the one who put him there in the first place. Without him here, I don't know how much he has in points, and I can't risk him being eliminated. I can't just let that happen.Steeling my resolve, I approach the instructor, the chip still hidden under my tongue. "I want to use some of my points to help Chris pass this round without being eliminated."The instructor raises an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flickering across his face. "Are you
The boy steps forward, blocking my path. "I saw it first. Now give it back."I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins as I stare him down. "I'm not giving it to you. It's mine now."The boy's eyes narrow, and he plants his feet, nose flaring. "I don't care. I need those points, so back off." He growls.I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I weigh my options. This flag could be the difference between passing and failing, and I'm not about to let it slip through my fingers.But the student in front of me is easily twice my size, and I can see the desperation in his eyes. Suddenly, movement catches my eye, and I glance over his shoulder and see a group of students approaching, their faces twisted with fury."Hey, that's our flag!" one of them shouts, his voice thick with rage.The teen in front of me whirls around, his eyes widening as he takes in the sight of the approaching mob. I can see the fear in his expression, and for a moment, I almost feel sorry for him.B
I need to get out of here.Quickly, I crouch low, using the lush foliage and scattered debris as cover.Absentmindedly, I can't help but notice the area. There are clear signs of activity in the clearing- a tattered backpack, crumpled energy bar wrappers, and a discarded water bottle.This has become a temporary base of operations for a group of the students, likely hunting for flags, returning and regrouping. It's unsettlingly organised.Swallowing hard, I tighten my grip on the wooden stake concealed in my jacket pocket. I need to be extra vigilant; these students have been working together, which means they pose a severe threat.Silently, I inch towards the flag lying on the ground, my eyes darting from one student to the next, watching as they converse animatedly. I need to get that flag and escape before they notice me. Seven against one is not a fight I'm eager to engage in.With each cautious step, I keep my movements fluid and silent, my senses heightened as I navigate the u