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ShadowPhantom

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  1. Hey everyone, this isn't a post sadly but I do want to say that I didnt forget about this! The past few months have given me very little time, but Ill likely be back to writing sometime next month.
  2. Chapter 4 Finally with a moment of calm, Robert took the chance to look down, thinking how close he was to being eliminated. He pulled his pants back just enough to see through a crack, and inspected the damage. The pad was noticeably dilated, but the edges were still dry by a wide margin. Still, he doubted the pad would survive another such encounter. Thankfully, they were now each equipped with ranged weaponry, so any opponent would think twice before engaging them. He turned to Amy, “You almost lost as well?” Amy nodded, “Yeah, I’m telling you, those pads were a blessing.” “I’m sorry for being so hesitant, I thought we were done for,” Mark added. Amy looked at him, a mischievous smile spreading across her face, “That tackle was insane, I’m surprised they didn’t flag you for rule breaking, but I suppose it was meant to disturb her aim and not to hurt her.” Robert glanced at his watch. It was 45 minutes until the next quota, which meant only an hour and fifteen minutes had passed since the competition started. To him, it seemed much longer. He wasn’t used to his bladder filling up so quickly. Usually it would be hours before he felt anything, but the pain had already arrived, complaining from below like an annoying tenant, to the point where he couldn’t ignore it. Someone lasted into the next day, he recalled. That seemed even more impossible to him now than it did when he first heard it. Reaching the next door in the hallway, Robert took the lead of the operation. Although Amy knew way more than any of them about the competition, Robert’s skill with guns was undeniable. He motioned for Amy to take care of opening the door while he took aim with the rifle, ready to send a shocking surprise to anyone lurking on the other side. He told Mark to join Amy, so that like last time, their number wasn’t immediately obvious. Amy ripped open the door with excessive vigor, revealing a much smaller chamber than the psych ward room they previously visited. No one was inside. In fact, the room was once again mostly empty just like before, except the thin marble pillar was replaced by a fat armchair, equipped with straps and devices that gave it the menacing appearance of a medieval torture device. Robert entered quickly and silently, rapidly turning his head in every direction that he wasn’t able scan from outside, his rifle following his gaze in perfect synchrony. The room was clear. He whispered for Mark and Amy to join him. Now with the tactical portion done, Robert looked to Amy once more for answers. It wasn’t very obvious what they were supposed to do, but Robert knew one thing for certain: that chair was not their friend. “Interesting, I’ve never seen such a room before,” Amy confessed, mostly to herself. Robert’s heart sank a few inches. He had grown used to the comfort of having an expert around who would give him an answer to every unknown, like a parent’s hand giving calm to a frightened child. But this time, all of them were in the dark, treading new territory for the first time. “Mark, watch the door,” Robert instructed, realizing that all three of them were busy trying to deduce the room with their backs turned to the entrance. Knowing that there was a possibility of being stalked, from former experience, he didn’t want to take any chances. Looking around, the room was quite different from the blindly bright ward. The walls were made of brown-painted cinder blocks, just like the backstage area he had to cross to get to the waiting room earlier. The floor was the same gray carpet they saw in the hidden compartment where they’d found the rifle. Gray carpets just like their gray clothes… Robert wondered how many times this floor drank up the failures of prior contestants. He only hoped that neither of them would add to that statistic. In truth, the armchair looked rather comfortable if you overlooked the ominous devices attached to it, with dark blue cloth pillows to relaxedly sink into. Robert guessed that whatever questions this room withheld would be answered once one of them accepted the chair’s intimidating invitation. As if reading his mind, Amy spoke up. “Well, all the more fun if it’s a surprise, anyone want the honor?” she asked, looking at the two of them in turn, a devious smile on her face. “You hold the second place world record in this competition, the honor is all yours,” Robert quickly replied, chuckling nervously. “Yeah yeah, I always gotta do everything,” she grumbled, not losing her smile. She approached the chair and inspected it, separating the main set of straps and observing how to secure them. Robert came a bit closer as well so he could see. He was expecting to engage in a precautionary speculation regarding the inner workings of the chair, but Amy did not entertain the dull idea. Instead, without hesitation, she turned around and sat down. As soon as she did, many things cleared up. The straps were located right over the abdomen, exactly where Robert wouldn’t want any pressure to be applied, especially now. Feeling the whining ache of his bladder, he was even more grateful now that Amy was the one to do it, and not him. Amy grabbed the two sides of each strap and buckled them together one by one. As soon as the last one was connected, the chair’s machinery whirred to life. He heard her gasp, not noticing the cause right away. Then he saw it. The straps were tightening, retracting by some mechanism to apply more and more pressure. Amy shifted in her seat, pushing herself further back into the soft cushions to escape the grip of the belts. Robert panicked for an instant, not sure how he could rescue her, but then understood that very likely, the chair would release her after some period of time. That was the test, one of endurance. “Guys, something is happening,” Mark called from behind, drawing Robert’s attention Momentarily conflicted, he decided to leave Amy to see what was happening. There was nothing he could do for her anyway; it was up to her to weather the storm. He ran up to Mark’s side, following his handgun aim through the gaping doorway and into the hall. Immediately he noticed it: the bright red arrows glowing on the wall. They formed a line coming in from out of view, leading to a large red glowing ‘X’ right across from their door. Assuming his mind connected the dot correctly, everyone in the area would be led right to their location. It was a path notifying the contestants that someone was bound to a chair, subject to their mercy – a cruel twist. “Okay, Mark, we need to defend Amy. Let’s close the door. You will keep your ear to it and listen for footsteps. I will be aiming. If you hear someone close by, you will open the door and I will shoot. They won’t expect us to be on the offensive,” Robert explained, before turning his head over his shoulder, “Amy, how are we doing?” “Fine so far, the belt stopped getting tighter, but it’s pretty bad. It also bound my hands and legs,” she replied. He could tell without looking that she wasn’t smiling anymore. Her voice had a quiver to it, one that she tried to conceal but failed. Raising his rifle, he got down on one knee and stabilized his aim to where the door would open. Mark did as instructed and kept an ear to the door. Robert’s heart was back to beating double, keeping his mind and senses sharper than usual. With it came the noticeable increase in his awareness of how full his bladder was becoming. He glanced at his watch every few seconds, watching the numbers go by. One minute, two, five, then eight. Amy’s struggle was getting worse; he could tell by the occasional groan she made in contrast to her former silence. How long did they have to wait? The answer to that question came sooner than expected. Two more minutes passed and a loud click sounded through the room, consumed without echo by the cold cinder walls. The belts had disengaged, or so Robert guessed. He glimpsed a wincing Amy slipping off the chair behind him, crumpling to the floor like a deflated paper bag, hands buried between her legs. She wasn’t able to use them for help the entire time the belts pushed on her abdomen. He imagined she was barely holding back. He wanted to say something, ask how she was doing, but they had been silent for the past ten minutes, and now he was afraid to break it. What if someone had snuck up to them, followed the arrows to their door, and was waiting outside for them to make a sound to confirm their whereabouts. Perhaps he was just paranoid, but something kept him from uttering a word. He made eye contact with Mark and pointed a finger gun at the door, indicating that he should take over watch. Not waiting for his reply, he hopped tip toed up to Amy. She had recovered a weak smile, and her hands were freed back at her sides. “I’m good,” she whispered, getting the memo on maintaining the quiet, and carefully stood up, using Robert’s hand for support. “It was bad for a moment, but I put it back on a leash” Thankful that she was still with them, he looked past her, eying for any sign of a reward. He spotted it right away, a gap in the wall. One of the cinder blocks had retreated back revealing a small compartment. He couldn’t see what was inside from where he was standing, but judging by the size, it didn’t have another rifle inside. Still, he learned quickly that unlike most cases, this was one of the exceptions where size didn’t matter. A small pad had saved him where a whole firearm couldn’t. “Well, I’ll let you have the fruits of your labor… or I guess suffering is a more accurate term,” he said, seeing that Amy had also noticed the change in the wall. Her smile widened. After fumbling in the newly uncovered cavity, Amy returned with 3 keys in hand. Robert still didn’t know what all the colors meant, but judging by their experience in the past hour, and the ornate pattern on the heads of two of the keys, he knew they had struck a decent win. One of the keys was red, another magenta, and the last one purple. Excitement rose within him momentarily as he realized they had three chests waiting for them throughout the hallway maze, but just as quickly as it came, it was stamped out by the boot of stress. Once again they were trapped in a room with potential opponents outside slithering like snakes out of sight. Last time, the pads had saved them, but they could no longer rely on that. What use were three keys if they could be eliminated before they’d even be able to use them? He shook himself free of the thought. If he let himself linger on the fear for too long, opponents would be the least of his trouble. His real opponent was down below. Recognizing this, he thought about last night, and the resolve he had. He had agreed that win or lose, he was winning something. He had convinced himself that the stakes were not as high as they seemed, that he need not worry. Clasping this spark of courage in his mind, he kindled it, striding confidently to level beside Mark. “Three keys, Red, Purple, and Magenta,” he told him, and without waiting for a reply, “Open the door for me, I’ll fire a few rounds through it. Better be quick than let our opponents prepare if they’re out there” Nodding, Mark moved to the door and pulled back the handle. The door swung back into the room revealing a now arrow-free hallway; the glowing path on the wall had extinguished itself. Before Robert could register if anyone was out there, he fired a burst of five darts in a horizontal fan-like formation, covering every angle in view. If anyone was standing there, they would most certainly be hit. But a moment later, he heard five thuds as rubber hit wallpaper. No one was there. Still not dropping his caution, he silently made a few hand signals to Mark, hopefully communicating that they should simultaneously jump out and face opposite directions. Last time, their opponent was not immediately visible from inside the room. They wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. The two of them rushed out into the open, Mark turning left, and Robert facing right. Amy stayed behind as their reserve. An empty hallway segment extended out in front of Robert. The girl they’d eliminated was gone, the soaked stain in the carpet the only evidence that she was ever there. Hearing no sound from Mark’s gun, Robert figured the same empty scene was behind him as well. A deep breath filled his lungs at that revelation, and he let himself relax a bit, noticing that his eyebrows had been pinned down like menacing overhangs above his eyes. He let them float back up to their natural position. Hearing no commotion, Amy joined them outside. Having completely recovered herself after the chair’s intense grasp, she took the lead once more, moving ahead towards the unexplored end of the hallway segment. Robert and Mark followed close behind. Their adventure continued. They still needed to move carefully. A smart opponent would be waiting for them to let their guard down before striking. Robert made the good habit of expecting enemies around every bend. They turned the corner, entering new territory, guns held out in front of them and eyes down the sights. It was all clear. Or so Robert thought. Mark suddenly fired off a round, making him jump, startled. The dart bounded off of a chest in the center of the hallway. Squinting to see if maybe he missed something, Robert saw nothing but the brown box, sitting peacefully, likely insulted by Mark’s impoliteness “What did the chest do to you, huh?” he commented with a laugh. Mark didn’t reply. Perhaps his tensions were up. Indeed, despite having calmed down, Robert felt the weightless gaze of invisible eyes bearing down on him. The hallway they entered this time was almost three times as long as any segment they had seen previously. It had two doorways, one much closer than the other, and a dresser with two drawers near the far end. From where they stood, it seemed they were alone, but who knew? Part of him wished that they were attacked immediately. At least then they wouldn’t fear someone prowling in the shadows. Now thinking, it did seem a bit eerie that everything was so silent. Surely they would hear the commotion from one of the other players. There were nine others who started out with them. Could they all have been eliminated? He tried to do some counting in his head. The girl they encountered undoubtedly took at least two others with her. If he assumed that others also had some fights of their own, they should be facing maybe three or four other players at this point. It would be naive to think that the girl they’d left behind was the last person they had to worry about in their hallway maze. Whatever the actual situation was, they had to keep moving forward. That truth was invariant. “I’ll watch ahead since I have the best weapon. Mark watch behind. Amy, you’ll take care of looting the boxes,” Robert ordered, getting ahead to sandwich Amy between them. They continued forward. The chest that Mark had shot turned out to have a magenta lock, the key for which they had just recently acquired. As Amy got to work, Robert kept his mind focused, watching the hall in front of them as it stretched out like an exaggerated perspective drawing. He was doing well resisting the urge to see inside the box, that is, until Amy let out a gasp of awe. He looked over. Amy grabbed a long weapon from inside and held it up to the light. “Yesss, I’ve always wanted one of these,” she cheered in a whisper. The long stick had no magazine. Instead, it had a grip at the front and a slot at the side for inserting slugs. It was a pump action shotgun. That would be invaluable when crossing close range corners. It fit Amy’s impulsive bubbly character quite well. She pocketed the handgun, enthralled by her new toy, and aimed it down the hall in an exaggerated manner. Robert couldn’t help but smile. “You’ll be peeking all the corners from now on,” he told her, turning his attention back to the box, which was still not empty. In addition to the new weapon, they also found a smaller 10-round magazine for the rifle, as well as a pack of beef jerky. Robert didn’t need to be told what that was for. With all the liquids he’d been drinking, he wasn’t aware how hungry he’d become. That is, until the snack bag turned to face him, with its picture of crispy meat being dipped into a cup of shiny sweet barbecue sauce, perfectly seasoned; the salt, the grains of pepper… “We’re sharing, yeah?” Mark’s concerned voice cut through his thoughts, seeing Robert’s primal glare at their newfound sustenance. “Yeah, of course,” Robert replied, smiling guiltily. They split the snack over the next few minutes, taking turns reaching into the bag, and keeping their weapons on the ready. It turned out that in addition to sating a bit of his hunger, it also made Robert quite thirsty. He didn’t doubt that the snacks provided throughout the maze were purposely made to be very salty. It provided a clear advantage to anyone who found them. He wished that they’d discovered one sooner. Being a preventative measure, it would be no use against all the liquids that already queued up for the exit. Slightly more energetic, the trio was ready to continue. Amy loaded her shotgun with slugs and got in line behind Robert. Having both a close range weapon as well as a long range one, they agreed it would be wise to switch who led the way based on how close they were to the next corner. With the hallway still extending far in front of them, Robert remained the head with Mark by his side, while Amy manned the flank. As they approached the first side door of the hall, a synchronized beep came from their watches. Glancing at the screen, Robert saw that they only had 10 minutes left to fulfill their quota. It would be a perfect follow up to their snack. Amy slid her hands into her pockets and brought out the two bottles she had found inside the couch cushions at the very beginning of the competition. “Don’t drink it all. There’s just over a cup in there. I still have that quota overflow from the psych ward room, but I’ll need a bit more to cover mine,” she said, handing the sprite bottle to Robert. They cautiously drank their amounts, sipping just enough to perfectly satisfy the numbers on their watches. Each wanting a bit of sweetness, they passed around the sprite bottle first, finishing it before starting on the water. After Amy and Mark finished their portions, Robert had the honor of the last sip. After this, they would have no more drinks and would need to find more if they hoped to avoid a shocking quota-evasion punishment. Tilting his head back, Robert was about to suck in the last few drops of water when Mark let out an abrupt yelp of pain. He swallowed the water whole, almost choking, and looked back down with a dreadful feeling twisting in his stomach. They had let their guard down for just a minute, and now they were facing the consequences. He glanced at Amy to see if maybe she did something to Mark as a joke, but she was spinning around in a similar manner of clueless panic, eyes darting in every direction. Mark collapsed to the ground, curling into a ball in the familiar reaction of being struck by a dart. Someone had them in their sights, but they had no idea who or where. There was no worse situation they could find themselves in. There was not a soul but them within view of both sides of the hallway. Robert’s feet froze to the ground like skin to an icy pole, his muscles petrified. He tried to move, but he couldn’t; his mind had disconnected him from his body. He had no idea where the dart came from, and the last piece of cover they could’ve hid behind was the chest, which was a ways behind them. Even if they had cover, he had no idea which way their enemy was. Which side do they hide from? He was thinking furiously, processing his situation, but each mental cycle was just as void as the next of any useful thoughts. Time sped up again, or so he realized when Amy grabbed him firmly by the wrist, bringing him back to reality. “In here!” she called, ungluing him from the floor and pulling him through the door next to them. He felt an invisible blade tickling the back of his neck as he heard another dart whiz past behind him, his mind conjuring sensations in preparation for a shock. He tried to determine which side it came from by the sound, but it was too difficult to tell. “What about Mark!” Robert exclaimed once they were inside. “He’s probably eliminated, we need to worry about ourselves. That’s likely a sniper. It has insane accuracy but can only fire one bullet at a time. I had my back to the long end of the hall. That’s probably where he shot us from,” Amy deduced, her voice fast and tense. She was right. There was no time to think about Mark when they were in the sights of a sniper. They were safe for now, but they needed a plan. The room they’d entered had the appearance of a three star hotel room, with a white-sheeted bed taking up most of the space, two nightstands on each side, and an out-of-place chest in the corner. The only thing missing was a bathroom. To their fortune, one of the night stands had a red-marked drawer on it. Amy quickly opened it with the red key they’d earned. Inside was a short wide magazine. It did not look as if it would fit any of their weapons. Amy laughed, “How convenient. A sniper mag. Perfect for whoever’s shooting us.” She shut the drawer in frustration, but not before pocketing their useless reward. Perhaps if they defeated their opponent, it might come in handy. The second nightstand was free of locks and held two large drinks, a coke and an orange juice, each twice the size of the bottles they’d just finished. Seeing the yellow liquid moving around inside the bottle, Robert couldn’t help but be reminded of a similar situation down below. How long until what came in would finally break out? As if hearing his thoughts, he felt his bladder pick up the fight, pushing harder on his muscles. He reached a hand down, wincing, pinning it into his pants to help. Seeing he still had defenses on his side, his bladder gave up moments later, but the ache was now constant. Now every time something reminded him of his need, he would have to really fight to prevent elimination. They each took one of the bottles and hid it into their pockets so the sight of liquid wouldn’t disturb them. The last thing in the room was the chest, and it was locked by a coded masterlock. They hadn’t had the luck of finding any code yet, and guessing the combination from the millions out there was not feasible. Amy’s face looked deflated, as if hope escaped her like air from a balloon. She turned to him. “Listen, I’m doing this competition for fun anyway. Jokes aside, I don’t care if I lose. I know you do though. I will take the lead and rush ahead with the shotgun. Chances are, I’ll get hit, but I’ll try not to. You should follow me close behind, and make sure I’m shielding you from the line of fire. Whoever is shooting at us, there’s no way they can nail the two of us if we peek them simultaneously, they can only shoot one bullet at a time.” Robert was taken aback. He knew she was helping him and Mark, but he never thought she’d offer to sacrifice herself for him. He felt a newfound respect for her blossoming within him, and suddenly, he didn’t want her to be eliminated. In just the past hour, she had gone from an odd new acquaintance to a good friend. “Why don’t we just sit here and wait. They can come to us,” Robert offered instead, though his voice gave away his true thoughts. How long would they be sitting ducks in that room? The sniper had them trapped. Whoever it was had no reason to make an offensive move. They were the ones with the ball in their court. Amy read his unconfident tone, and asserted her decision. “Nonsense, let’s go out with style!” she declared, smiling once again. Robert nodded. They left the room at a sprint, slamming open the door and flying forward into the hall. Robert caught sight of Mark, sitting on a large circular patch of darkened carpet. His pants were soaked completely above the knees and his face was soft, contented, free of strain. He made a salute towards Robert as they matched gazes. Robert envied him slightly as every forward leap he made shook his bursting bladder. Amy was weaving side to side and Robert tried his best to match her pattern. A face peeked out from the end of the hall just enough that Robert could see an optical scope mounted atop a long gun barrel. Their enemy was crouching behind the dresser at the very end of the hall, completely concealed when not peeking. A thworp echoed against the walls as a dart was sent in their direction. Amy jerked her body to the side, dodging the fast bullet, and returned fire from her own shotgun. With many slugs to spare, she pumped it over and over again, sending a barrage of darts towards their opponent. Mark’s elimination likely strengthened her desire for revenge, giving her the resolve to execute this bold plan. The sniper was not peeking a second time. Amy’s covering fire was blasting clumsy bullets left and right across the entire hall. Robert noticed that their opponent had placed the sniper rifle on the floor next to them, the orange barrel sticking out slightly from under the furniture piece. They were likely switching to a close range weapon as Amy and Robert closed in. Amy crossed the dresser first, to Robert’s surprise, climbing on top of it with speed he did not expect from her body. At this, the sniper revealed themselves for the first time: a thin boy with no facial hair to decorate his face, likely just starting his 20s. He staggered backwards out of cover, frantically pressing the trigger on his handgun as if his life depended on it. Every one of his shots missed. Amy pumped her shotgun once again and sent an explosion of darts in his direction, returning the favor. The boy managed to duck behind the edge of the hall, saving himself by only a few centimeters from the frenzied projectiles. Amy didn’t give him any rest. She jumped off the dresser and continued in pursuit, slipping out of Robert’s sight. Afraid to miss the action, Robert too rushed forward, revealing the next hallway segment. The boy had retreated further down the hall, fumbling with a new magazine that he was desperately trying to reload into the gun. Amy continued to blast away, darts flying everywhere, but the boy was too far for the slugs to hit accurately. A rush of adrenaline surged through Robert’s veins. If the boy had a chance to reload, Amy might be done for. Thinking quickly, he lifted his rifle and pinned the trigger with his finger. A laser of darts flew forth, a coordinated squad compared to the disorganized rabble of Amy’s shotgun. He did not make the same mistake as last time with his aim. The bullets hit true, and he watched the boy collapse to the ground, clutching his abdomen. Knowing they had him immobilized, they approached, Amy keeping her shotgun up on the ready. In the silence that ensued, Robert heard a faint sound coming from the boy, a trickling stream whispering defeat from between his legs. And yet, his gray pants did not darken. They remained as dry as they had been. Surely judging by the force of the sound, a cotton pad would not save him. And yet, maybe it did. After all, it did save Robert. Amy leaned down and took the boy’s handgun from the floor. The boy had dropped it when both of his hands were called to a more important duty. The buzz from his belt ceased moments later and he sat up, looking down at the floor to see if he’d been eliminated. Robert too was watching hopefully, realizing that under normal contexts, staring at the crotch of another stranger was an absurd notion. To his disappointment, it appeared the boy was spared. “Give me one reason not to fire a second dart at you right now,” Amy demanded. The boy looked up, unsure of how to reply. Robert was certain that the boy had accepted defeat and was just as surprised as they were that he remained un-eliminated. “I’ll give you everything I have,” he replied shakily. “How did you survive?” Amy continued interrogating, ignoring his offer. Her tone was even frightening to Robert; he’d never yet heard her be so commanding. He couldn’t help but feel a bit of deja vu. When the girl they’d fought earlier found him and Amy still in play after receiving a shock, she asked them the same thing. How did they survive? How did this boy survive now? “I found a diaper in one of the rooms, it was very small, I didn’t think it’d get me through, honestly,” he stammered. Robert turned to Amy, “Didn’t you say before that it would be too unfair to have diapers in the competition?” Amy furrowed her brows in concentration, “yeah I did. I guess they thought they’d finally add them. Ridiculous if you ask me. The previous mechanism had stakes attached, but this, this is just too much of a cheat” She paused for a second, leaving Robert to wonder what ‘previous mechanism’ she was referring to, but then added, “And I am against cheating” With that, she pulled the trigger on the handgun that she’d picked up. The boy’s eyes widened in surprise as his face turned a shade colder, a winter wind extinguishing his flame of hope. The dart collided with his chest before he could utter a plead, returning him to his convulsing state. As the boy lay curled up on his side, the trickling stream resumed its flow, this time, overcoming its former obstacle. Robert watched as his pants darkened, glistening golden drops escaping the fabric and spreading into a puddle under him, the carpet drinking it up quickly. The boy looked up, betrayal written plainly on his strained features, as he finished peeing. “I’m sorry, but you had to know that there was no way I could let you go. You eliminated our friend. Blood for blood,” Amy said. The boy didn’t reply. Without hesitating any longer, Amy turned around to go back, motioning for Robert to join her. They hadn’t said their parting words to Mark yet, and they didn’t want to miss the chance. Robert muttered an apology to the boy and let Amy drag him away from the scene. In truth, the lad deserved what he got. It was a game after all, and winning meant playing without mercy. The boy certainly was ready to eliminate all three of them just a minute earlier. He knew the consequences. “That was cruel,” Robert commented with a smile once they'd made it a distance away. “You like that? I had to put on my mean face,” Amy laughed. Robert joined in. Mark was fortunately still there. He had shifted himself slightly away from the puddle he made. It probably wasn’t comfortable sitting in the now-cold wetness. Soon he’d be extracted and given a warm shower to wash himself off, as well as 100 credits for his troubles. Meanwhile Robert and Amy would press on, perhaps to a bigger prize, or to simply prolong the same inevitable fate. “I didn’t even know where it came from. Next thing I knew I was uncontrollably pissing myself. I don’t know what I expected from the shock belt but I did think there would be at least some fighting chance. There was none at all,” Mark told them as they got closer. “Yeah, that thing pins your muscles. Nothing you can do if you need to go,” Amy agreed. “You two managed to avenge my very sad elimination?” Mark asked jokingly. Robert nodded, “Guy stood no chance. Amy brutally executed him.” “You know, I thought my life was over when I signed up for this competition, but you two changed my mind,” Mark admitted. “Things aren’t so bad. You two definitely deserve some drinks on me.” Amy chuckled, “I’m glad I could help, I will definitely take you up on that offer.” “But we will think about that later. For now, I need to avoid any thoughts of drinks,” Robert interjected, realizing that the pleasant image of the three of them relaxing in a bar was reminding his pesky bladder of the current circumstances. “Right, I forgot you two are still in pain. Well, alright then. Best of luck! I’ll see you on the other side.” Mark waved his farewell as Amy and Robert turned to continue down the hall. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Side Note: I should add that this latest post (Chapter 4) and all subsequent posts are newly written, that is, I ran out of pre-written material (which made up Chapters 1-3). I will try to incorporate any feedback into future chapters going forward
  3. Chapter 3 Amy instantly jumped from her chair, squeaking with excitement, and rushed to pull the handle, swinging the door open and running inside. She vanished before Mark and Robert had fully stood up. “Hey wait!” Robert shouted in panic, chasing after her, Mark right on his tail. The two of them practically squeezed each other through the doorway, like two children at the store afraid to lose their parents. Both of them knew that if they didn’t cling to Amy, they stood little chance. Amy was already busy fiddling with something as they entered. Robert took a moment to take in his surroundings. He was standing in a typical middle-class living room, with a cloth-cushioned blue sofa pushed against a wall, a dresser against the other, and a potted plant in the corner. An oval yellow carpet covered the center of the room, like the yolk of an egg surrounded by the egg white of pale wooden floor planks. Amy was kneeling on the couch, her hand elbow deep between the cushions, grunting as she strained and fished around. Robert had the funny thought that perhaps he wanted her to do that to him, before shaking himself back into the moment. “Get to work lads, one of you try the dresser, one of you look under the carpet!” she commanded. Robert and Mark looked at each other, eyebrows raised, slightly dumbfounded, but then got to work. “I’ll get the dresser,” Robert said after a pause, leaping over to the furniture piece before Mark could argue. It was definitely the more intriguing option of the two. The top 3 drawers turned out to be locked, one with a code, the second with a keyhole, and the 3rd with a masterlock. The bottom one however, was open. As he pulled back by the handle, something bright orange and rectangular caught his eye – a piece of plastic. Upon further inspection, he realized he was looking at some sort of toy gun magazine, like the one you would expect to see for a nerf gun, except the darts inside were much smaller, about two inches long and half an inch in diameter. Their tips were heavier than their bodies, rounded and made of rubber, for aerodynamic purposes. He instantly connected the dots, recalling the speech from the man on stage. It was ammo for one of the shock gun weapons they could find throughout the arena. The faster they found the counterpart to this magazine, the better. Robert pocketed it. Next to the magazine were two bottles, one with water, and the other with chocolate milk. At least they wouldn’t have to worry about fulfilling their first drink quota. “Hey guys, check this out,” he heard Mark say. Turning around, Robert found the yellow carpet peeled back into a corner revealing underneath a square piece of the floor misaligned from the rest, a black outline on the edges. Mark was bent over, growling furiously in an effort to pull a brass handle attached to the edge of the square. It was a hatch door of some sort, and judging by Mark’s failure to make it budge, it was locked. “There doesn’t appear to be a keyhole or anything, so it must be a remote mechanism that unlocks it,” Amy deduced, walking up to join them. “We’ll have to come back to it later. For now, cover it up.” Mark released the handle, letting it clack back down against the metal plate that secured it, and stood up, sucking in air. “You two had any luck?” he asked, eying their new possessions. Mark turned his hands to show what he found. Amy did as well, appearing to have another two bottles of drinks, a water and a sprite. Her face lit up when she spotted the orange magazine in Robert’s hand. “Woahh, that’s for a proper rifle!” she exclaimed. “Unfortunately they are quite rare, but there are always a few to be found around each starting region.” “I’m not very experienced at this holding contest business, but I can shoot a gun,” Robert proclaimed. “Good, and we will need one if we want to have any chance in the end game. Darts are easy enough to find, but that magazine is a savior. Here’s the plan, I think. The arenas are usually divided up into an open central area surrounded on the edge by hallway mazes on each floor. Each hallway maze is its own pocket, with four starting regions in it. “That means that there are nine other contestants in our maze. The only way to the center of our floor is through a single choke point door that is usually locked, requiring some challenge-solving to open it. The center is important later on, but it is best not to be the one to try to get there. Let the other teams do all the hard work and then we’ll sabotage them,” she explained. “Right now though, we need resources, and the best ones are found in challenge rooms. Let’s go find one, follow me.” She led them through the only other exit in the living room, a white-painted wooden door, the kind with four rectangles embedded into each quadrant. Outside the small living room, they found themselves at a three-directional hallway intersection. Each way shortly vanished behind a ninety degree turn, so it was hard to decide which one was more interesting. “This way,” Amy whispered, waving them towards her as she turned right. The three of them crept quietly down the empty carpeted hall, following Amy’s stealthy manner. Robert slid his fingers along the striped wallpaper as they moved, accidentally touching something tiny, smooth, and glass-like. He looked over; it was barely visible among the beige-brown patterns, but he spotted it nonetheless: a small camera embedded into the wall. That's how they were observing the contestants. He didn’t doubt that there were thousands of these hidden lenses all over the arena. Amy suddenly halted in front of them, whirling her head around and putting a finger to her lips. Robert felt his body inject a surge of adrenaline into his veins, a tingling sensation in his beating chest. There were voices coming from around the corner – a higher-pitched boyish sound, and another, much deeper, manly tone. Their conversation echoed from far away, sounding muffled through the walls it had to pass. Their words blended together incoherently, but Robert could tell by the volume of their speech, they were not immediately around the corner. Amy peeked one eye around the wall and observed. Robert tugged at his gray shirt collar, rubbing his fingers together nervously as he waited. “Anything?” he croaked in a whisper. Amy ducked back behind the wall. “I don’t see them, but the hallway turns again not too far ahead. There is a door though, most likely a challenge room. If we can slip in there without being seen that would be good.” “Great…” Mark muttered uneasily. Amy glimpsed the hallway once more, confirming that it was still clear, and motioned urgently for them to follow. Robert had hoped for a moment of mental preparation, but she gave him none. The three of them hopped lightly down the hall, reaching a door on the right. Amy wasn’t wrong; it was another very short segment of corridor. The door was the only thing there before the passage vanished behind another turn. She reached for the handle. Robert’s heart jumped for a moment, imagining the rattling sound of a secured lock, and the owners of the voices they’d heard emerging with dart guns pointed ready. But the door swung open freely, letting them inside. Amy carefully pulled the door back to a close once they had all slipped inside, ensuring that it made no sound. Robert watched the strip of golden hallway light become thinner and thinner, until it disappeared completely, submerging them in darkness. The room they had entered was entirely black, except for a mesmerizing array of lasers that danced in every direction. It was one of those laser room obstacle courses that Robert remembered trying as a kid, but it had been years since he’d done it, and this time, the stakes of touching a laser were likely much greater. “Doesn’t look too bad,” Mark remarked, though the quiver in his voice didn’t agree. The room consisted of two rows of horizontal green lasers, stacked vertically in a staggered formation, like bricks in a wall. The idea was to step over one, and duck under the next, repeating this pattern until the end of the room was reached. However, it wouldn’t be that simple. Between each horizontal green line, a wall of vertical blue lasers moved parallel along the ceiling in alternate directions, adding timing to the game of precision. “Since I’m the smallest, I should probably go,” Mark suggested, looking at both of them as if he hoped they would disagree. When neither spoke, he kept to his proposal and turned to face the lights. Amy and Robert watched as he began his journey across. Mark waited for the wall of blue lasers to pass and stepped behind the first green line. The upper green row came just above his chest, so Mark had no struggling ducking under the next one. “I’m curious what happens when you touch one. I guess it shocks you, but then why not just run through it at the beginning before getting shocked is a threat?” Robert wondered out loud. “It also adds some amount to your next drink quota if you touch it,” Amy clarified. “That… makes total sense,” Robert replied calmly, as Mark picked up the pace. Mark was moving so quickly that he was ahead of the blue laser pattern, having to wait at times for one to pass in front of him. Finally, he stepped over the last green line, making it to the other side. Robert squinted to see if there was anything there, any reward for Mark to come back with, but the bright lights made it hard to make out anything but Mark’s gray outfit. He hadn’t really looked earlier, but was there actually anything there at all? “There’s a key!” Mark exclaimed, answering the question, his voice surprisingly quiet from the short distance. The walls swallowed all the sound that would normally bounce around the room. “What color??” Amy yelled back in a whisper. “Red!” “That’s great news, that should be a tier 3 loot chest,” she told Robert quietly. As Mark began to make his way back through the lasers, Robert heard the handle on the door turn behind them. Both of them spun around with a gasp, fear surging in Robert’s chest like a stab in the heart. “Shit,” she hissed, grabbing Robert’s hand and pulling him to the side where the door would conceal them. Mark couldn’t do anything, he had to continue through the lasers. The door swung open and the two voices they heard earlier now clearly spoke in front of them. “Oh damn! someone’s here!” the boyish voice blurted out, then called out to Mark, “You friendly?” “Yeah, I’m friendly. Just trying to get through this,” Mark replied, keeping his voice calm. They hadn’t even noticed that Amy and Robert were right there behind them, giving them a major advantage. The two guys stood hesitant a few feet into the room, unsure of whether to trust Mark or not. They didn’t seem to be experienced, nor did they carry dart guns. Probably newbies just like Robert. Mark continued stepping through the lasers, getting inevitably closer to their newfound opponents. As Mark had only a few more steps left, Amy looked at him, raising her hand and swinging it back and forth frantically to stop his advance. Robert bit his lip, afraid that Mark might make eye contact with them, revealing their location, but he knew what he was doing; his eyes stayed glued on the two intruders, but he saw Amy’s command nonetheless, stopping his movement. He had to hop back and forth to avoid the blue laser walls as they slid side to side in alternation. “I’m not quite sure you two are friendly though,” Mark said, continuing the exchange. “We all gotta win, you know? No hard feelings. Give us what you found and we’ll let you pass,” the deep voice demanded. “Or what, you’ll beat me up? That would be a violation,” Mark refused. The two men gained a bit of confidence, seeing it was two against one, and edged further into the room. The one with the boyish voice slammed the door shut behind them, causing Robert’s stomach to drop into his toes, but to his relief, the guy didn’t turn around to look at them. “We won’t beat you up, but you won’t get out of here laser-free,” the man threatened. “So be it, I can stand here all day,” Mark persisted, his voice remaining steady. The two men stopped a few feet before the first laser, not taking their eyes off Mark. They were completely distracted, unaware of the threat lurking in their flank. “What do we do?” Robert shaped the words with his lips when Amy faced him. She placed her hand on his chest, telling him to stay, her face straight and certain, and then left him. Slowly, she inched deeper into the room step by step, crouching halfway to the floor. Mark got the memo and continued the conversation to mask any sound Amy might make. “Do you even know what it is I found back here?” The boyish voiced man laughed, “we’re not stupid, it’s a key to some loot.” Robert’s eyes widened at the reply. How did they know? Had they passed a similar room already, or were they veterans? Amy was now halfway between him and the men. Ditching her stealth strategy, Robert watched her stand up and close the distance in two giant leaps. Before either of their opponents could turn around, she pushed them both right into a blue laser wall. They yelped loudly, losing balance and collapsing onto the floor. Immediately, both of them jammed their hands towards their abdomen as their shock belts emitted an audible buzz. Mark took the opportunity to clear the final four jumps, meeting up with Robert and Amy, and the three of them darted from the room, shutting the door. “Get clear of the damn lasers!” they heard a muffled voice say as they left. “Holy shit that was intense! Wooh!” Mark cheered, lifting the red key into the air between his fingertips. “You think the two of them lost just now?” “Doubtful. No chance anyone needs to go yet, but I think their next quota will seal their fate,” Amy replied. She led them back the way they came, turning the corner where they were previously hiding, and into the living room door. Robert was surprised how easy it was to get lost. Had they made a few more turns, he might not have been able to tell which door led back to their starting position. The same wallpaper plastered every direction, and the doors were all identical white painted wood. It was like your typical suburban home, but from a nightmare. Mark knew why Amy had led them back. There was the dresser which still had a key lock on the first drawer. As they re-entered the room, Robert noticed a red dot above the ornate brass plate encasing the keyhole, indicating that the red key they found would be a match. He hadn’t paid it any heed when he first saw it, but Amy probably kept track of the colors – another perk of having previously participated in the competition Mark hopped excitedly up to the drawer, key in his hand at the ready. It slid inside with a satisfying click. He turned it once to the right and the drawer sprang open. The trio leaned in to get a closer look. As Mark pulled back by the brass handle, Robert’s face fell at the complete absence of anything resembling a firearm inside. Instead, they were met with 4 pristinely white rectangular pads, appearing as if someone cut a piece of paper into 4 pieces and glued cotton balls to each surface. Robert noticed from the corner of his eye Mark’s smile had been equally wiped from his face, his jaw hanging down slightly. “This is it? Four cotton strips is what I risked losing for? Damn!” he cursed. “Do you have any idea how awesome this is?” Amy exclaimed, positively beaming. Robert turned to face her, hope reigniting within him. He knew she knew something they didn’t, even though he struggled to imagine what possible explanation she could have for being so thrilled at the sign of cotton pads. Were they magically able to open doors if you rubbed the handle? Maybe they were sprayed with chloroform to make your opponents go unconscious. Each explanation sounded just as silly as the next. “These are like diaper pads, they hold liquids very well. This is a game changer,” she explained, though Robert remained just as confused. “Okay, but isn’t the whole idea that you will lose if you wet yourself? So what’s the point if you have a pad under there or not?” Mark asked, reading Robert’s thoughts exactly. “Were you listening to the presentation? you lose only if you wet yourself visibly. Anything that cannot be seen doesn’t count. That means that everything this pad can soak up is fair game. Of course, these aren’t full-on diapers – it would be unfair to give someone such an advantage – but they can hold maybe a cup of liquid a piece, though I wouldn’t risk that much. “Many actually tend to lose in the end game; they find these pads, and being totally desperate, lose control and let out too much, exceeding the capacity. The idea is to use them as soon as you start feeling you need to go a bit, this way you can keep everything under control,” she explained. “Seems kind of risky to me. How do you know when to stop?” Robert asked. “Yeah, so these guys are quite easy to gauge. You just gotta pull back your pants a bit when you do it, and keep watch. You’ll notice them gradually dilate as they soak up, and just before it gets to the edges, you stop,” she said “And what? you can just take them out and dispose of them after? Isn’t that considered to be visible?” Robert continued. He wanted to make sure he knew every detail. Even if Amy was here this time, it was good to get every clarification he could so that if he found himself alone next time, he would know his way around. “Oh no no, you don’t take them out. That would indeed count as a loss. You keep them in. As long as you didn’t overuse them, they won’t leak even if you’re moving around. That’s why I said to stop before it reaches the edges. Plus they usually dry up a bit by the end game and then if you really have no other choice, then you can try your best to use them again without overflowing, though that rarely works out. Anyway, we should get moving. There are plenty more rooms to explore. Let’s get these pads in and we’ll be off” Each of them took one pad, and Amy pocketed the spare. Once it was in his hands, Robert realized that the other side of the pad was a clear peelable film, like the back of a sticker. He pulled it off carefully, and affixed the strip to the inside of his pants. Amy and Mark did the same. “Before we go, any of you want to use yours?” she asked. Robert’s face reddened. That last time he was asked about needing the bathroom was when he was a little kid. Mark shook his head. Robert focused for a moment, pushing on his muscles slightly to see if anything was there. He could probably muster a few drops if he tried, but probably not worth it yet. “I’m good,” he replied. As the three of them stepped away from the drawer towards the door, Mark reached out to grab the key that they had left behind, expecting it to slide out with ease. To his dismay, however, it was completely stuck. He stopped and gave it a stronger tug, turning it left to reverse his opening motions, but to no avail. It was jammed. Amy glanced over her shoulder at Mark’s struggle. “They’re one use, it would be insane if you just got access to every single red tier loot chest in the arena with one key.” “Yeah, I figured that’s what it was, but worth a try,” Mark said, running up to level with them. Back in the hallway, Amy grew silent again, crouching slightly so her footsteps made no noise. Mark and Robert followed suit. This time, she chose to lead them straight. This hallway was no different, the visible portion void of anything but bare walls, the rest shrouded by the turn. The air around them remained eerily unperturbed, but Robert knew that there were only so many passageways a small maze could have before another one of the other nine participants crossed their path. They reached the edge and Amy once again peeked around the corner to check if it was clear. This time, she ducked back instantly. A thworp echoed from behind the turn and a small dart whizzed right past where Amy’s head just was, bouncing off the wall to their right. “Close! it’s just one girl, but she’s armed,” Amy reported calmly. “We should back off” Robert couldn’t agree more with the sentiment. Having seen their two previous encounters curling up on the floor, clutching their abdomen, he didn’t want to share the same fate. Thankfully, they heard their rival’s soft steps fading away into the distance. Amy risked another glimpse past the edge, but a second dart whizzed across, falling company to the first. Amy didn’t risk a third time; Whoever they were up against was probably behind cover, holding them in their sights. Though, it occurred to Robert that they should probably take the ammo. Two darts was still better than nothing. As Amy and Mark retreated, he quickly leapt to the ground and swiped up the two darts before joining them. The three of them retreated shock-free. “How many others do you think she has already eliminated?” Mark asked hopefully. “I don’t know, but if she doesn’t have any buddies, she either split from her starting group, or she took them out. Although, I can’t imagine anyone needing to go enough yet for those darts to have much effect,” she said. They returned to the intersection and turned to go down the only remaining unexplored direction. For the third time, they found their way concealed from view, Mark arriving first at the edge this time. Robert watched him get down on all fours and carefully peek forward, like a turtle stretching its head out of its shell. It was a clever idea; no one would expect a face to appear so close to the ground. Mark extended his head past the wall as Robert waited in anticipation. “Clear,” Mark whispered, scrambling back to his feet. The three of them revealed themselves to a fortunately empty segment of corridor. This one however, was much more interesting than the last, with two doors and two wooden chests scattered along the walls. The chests were large rectangular boxes of dark wood, with rounded edges, roughly five feet long and two feet tall and wide. Robert noticed a purple dot above the keyhole on the closer one; his experience from video games told him that red was probably the higher tier. Walking past it, they arrived at their first door. With how carefully they turned corners, Robert expected them to enter the room cautiously, first getting a glimpse through a small crack to confirm it was clear. but Amy, however, changed up the strategy. She pushed the door open, entering as if she was in her own house. Having no other choice, Robert shuffled in behind her, bracing himself for an onslaught of darts, but none came. He made sure to check behind the door for anyone hiding – if they had used that tactic, surely others could have a similar idea – but it appeared that they were entirely on their own. This challenge room was jarringly incongruent to the previous one, with padded white walls like those in a mental ward, and a blazing circular ceiling light dousing everything white. The space was slightly bigger than the living room they started in, except that it was filled with mostly empty space. A thin pedestal stood in the center, its marble surface blending in with the surrounding walls, the gray streaks in the material the only indication of its presence. On top of the pedestal stood a chalice so large that Robert reckoned he could probably bathe his entire hand inside of it. It was filled with a golden liquid, the color of champagne, with bubbles dancing on the walls of the glass. “Oh, one of these…” Amy groaned. Robert already guessed what they had to do. Whatever this room was hiding, they would only find out if they drank it all. The reward had to be something really good, or else why would someone sabotage themselves so greatly? But then something hit him. He checked his watch. They had 15 minutes left until their first quota had to be fulfilled. Had Amy not realized? This was their chance to satisfy their quota and get something on top of it. He repeated his thoughts out loud. “You’re a genius Robert, that’s perfect!” she complimented, leading them to the chalice. It looked like it held about a liter of the golden liquid, just a bit more than the one cup they each would have to drink. Robert took the first honor, lifting the oversized vessel to his chest. Jokingly, he whirled the beverage around in a circle, like he’d do with wine, before bringing it to his lips. The liquid reached his tongue with a burst of sweet and sour, exactly like what he expected it to taste like. It was indeed champagne, though not the best he ever had. It was clear now that liquid volume wasn’t the only issue. If they got drunk, then it would be much more difficult to compete in a holding contest. He watched in fascination as the number on his watch decreased with every sip he took. Somehow, it was detecting his exact intake from his wrist alone. Once the number reached 0, he handed the chalice to Mark, who did the same. Alice went last, gulping down the drink unceremoniously, sinful to any champagne enthusiast. Robert didn’t expect her to down the entire thing, but she finished it to the last drop, despite there being clearly more than a cup remaining when she took it. Though, catching a glimpse of her watch, Robert saw that it read a negative number. That answered another one of his lingering questions: the quotas did transfer into the next time frame. As soon as Amy set the glass back down, a creak resounded from the wall ahead of them. A hidden door had opened, an entire cushion square swinging aside to reveal an adjacent chamber. The trio raced eagerly towards the unlocked path. Robert’s long legs made him faster than the other two, causing him to reach the entrance first. The secret entrance was more like a portal, leading from the bright psych ward into a suburban home’s basement broom closet. The arena kept up its reputation of stark disparity, presenting him with a tiny chamber enclosed by four red brick walls, and a gray carpet floor. Most of the cramped space was occupied by a wooden contraption: a tall but thin box reaching up to his chest, with clear plastic windows into its inner mechanism. There were many gears inside of different sizes, interlocking with each other and connecting to axles. It reminded Robert of a museum he once visited which showed the exposed machinery of steam engines and various other technologies from the industrial revolution. Upon closer look, some of the glass windows exposed small triangular levers the size of pinkie fingers that could be pulled into one of three corner positions. Amy and Mark caught up and joined Robert in the room, eying the puzzle in equal fascination. After a moment’s hesitation, Amy pointed at something in the top right window, “See the dot?” Robert squinted, leaning forward for a closer look. Indeed, behind the window beside all the gears was a teal-colored dot, the exact same size as the ones he saw on the chest and drawers. Scanning the other windows, he soon found two more, a red and a yellow. Somehow, this machine was related to the loot-quality tiers that other containers had around the arena, but Robert knew that this one wouldn’t give its contents up nearly as easily. “So we have to somehow choose a prize?” he finally asked after some thought. Amy nodded. “Yeah, it appears to be the case. Unfortunately, I have never seen anything like this before so I’m just as clueless as you.” “Well we definitely won’t solve it just by looking, let’s pull some of these things,” Mark suggested, approaching the mechanism. There were four total triangular levers, each with three positions, which meant 81 combinations, according to Robert’s mental math. However, there were also 3 possible prizes, some worse than others. They couldn’t brute force it without risking the worst outcome. Mark was already busy flipping levers, each change emitting a satisfying clunk as the mechanism adapted. Yet, nothing seemed to happen inside. The gears rested peacefully in their former positions, totally ignoring Mark’s eager attempts at unlocking their secret. Then Robert noticed it, a button on the side of the box blending in with the dark wooden color. He tapped Amy and walked over to read the engraved text above it. It read ‘start’. At least they could now be certain that nothing would happen if they just passively flipped the levers, however, Robert felt a sinking feeling at the new discovery. It meant they only had one shot to get it right. Once the button was pressed, he guessed there would be no second attempt. Was there a chance they could get no prize at all? With 81 combinations and 3 color stickers, it wasn’t entirely unlikely that some arrangements led to a fourth option, the one of complete failure. Robert stepped back to see the entire front view of the box, hoping for some big picture pattern to emerge. Mark also gave up on his lever flicking, noticing their button discovery. He sighed a frustrated breath. “They sure don’t make it easy…” “What fun would easy be?” Amy asked, shooting him a smile. Mark did not return the cheery mood. “Listen, I’m too old for this kind of thing. I’ll go guard the –” he froze mid speech as he turned to face the exit. Robert immediately spun around to see what had silenced him, swallowing a lump in his throat. The radiant padded room looked back at him with its blinding whiteness, but nothing unusual caught his attention. Mark still stood, his eyes fixed into the distance, a few shades of color having left his face. “Someone was there,” he mumbled quietly. “They ducked back as soon as they noticed me but they were there, out there in the corridor” Amy snorted, “you’re easily scared. Who was it?” “I didn’t see, I just saw movement is all” “Whoever it is won’t dare challenge the three of us. They don’t know what weapons we have, and if they try to cross the room, they are wide open with no cover except that stick of a pedestal. They’ll wait for us to come out.” Mark tilted his head down, glancing at Amy through furrowed brows. “I figured that much, I’m not stupid. But unless we have another exit to go through, we are going to have to face them. You know how terrifying that is, knowing someone is watching you but not knowing when or where they’ll jump you?” “Just don’t pee yourself when they do,” Amy joked, turning her attention back to the mechanism. “Anyway, I think I got it.” She leaned in and flicked some levers, and then immediately headed for the button, no hesitation. “Wait! Wait! explain your reasoning first,” Robert called, grabbing her shoulder. “So look, the button is right next to this window. Each triangle lever’s corner touches exactly one window square. I think the lever indicates the direction of the flow, so we want them to point down the path which ends in our desired loot tier, which is teal in this case,” she explained. Robert scanned the front of the box once more, seeing her arrangement. It appeared plausible, although he had a few doubts. With an assassin waiting for them on the exit, however, he wasn’t about to waste time. The more they spent in that cramped room, the more stressed Robert was getting. “Alright, press it,” he approved. Amy did. Instantly, a large number of gears started up, spinning in a long snaking sequence from the button down the exact path that Amy had marked with the levers. A short but wide drawer began to emerge near the bottom of the box, sliding lethargically along its axis. Robert caught sight of a flicker of orange and white plastic in the shadows, the form of what appeared to be a long gun. He held back his excitement for a moment, fearing that like always, he would celebrate a bit too early only to face disappointment. Not this time, however. The drawer stopped fully open, revealing a plastic toy-looking rifle on the red velvet interior. Robert jumped into the air, fists raised, cheering in a whisper. Amy joined him in unison, shaking her hands in the air. Picking up the rifle, he took out the magazine they had found earlier and slid it into the empty slow. It fit perfectly. Now they were armed. Mark was still a statue, solidified in his previous form like a guard on duty. Robert tapped his shoulder. “We’re armed, let’s go” The three of them advanced into the padded room, Robert leading, Amy in the middle, and Mark cowering in the back. For this first time, Robert became aware of the liquids he had been consuming. Even with a rifle in hand, darts ready to shock anyone who jumped out at him, he felt the familiar shivers all over his body, like little spiders crawling through his insides. His bladder joined the alarmed response, beginning to fill much faster than it had previously. If he didn’t find a way to calm his fear, their opponent would need to do nothing to make him lose. “Amy, I’m scared and it isn’t helping my competition prospects,” he whispered over his shoulder. She breathed a laugh, slipping in front of him and taking the gun for herself. Mark and Robert exchanged looks, agreeing how embarrassing it was for two men to be hiding behind a girl. They didn’t complain however. The doorway was fast approaching. Robert managed to subdue his fear slightly, convincing himself that he knew exactly who was watching them. It was probably those two guys they threw into the lasers, two newbies who were likely seeking revenge against their own better judgment. Amy stopped a few feet away from the exit, looking over to make eye contact with Mark, motioning for him to approach. He leaned in and she whispered something in his ear. Mark pointed to the right, probably indicating where he saw the flicker of movement. Amy nodded, turning back to face the door and lifting her gun up to aim down the sights. Carefully, she shuffled left, gradually exposing more and more of the hallway beyond. So far Robert saw no reaction from her, lagging a few feet behind her motions. She moved forward, her legs at a slight bend to help with stealth, Robert and Mark close behind in single-file. Finally at the door, Amy made a daring leap to the side, jumping through the opening directly into the middle of the hall. She looked around frantically for their stalker, her finger on the trigger but not firing. Then, to Robert’s horror, he heard the familiar thworp, not from Amy’s gun, but from his left. Still concealed from view inside the padded room, he watched as a dart whizzed in front of him past the doorway gap, bouncing off the middle of Amy’s back. Their attacker must have moved to the other side somehow. Either Mark didn’t catch it, or he was mistaken about which direction they went in the first place. Amy shrieked as the dart hit her, immediately collapsing to the ground, dropping the rifle as both of her hands flew to her abdomen where the belt was emitting a quiet buzz. Mark stood frozen, as though trapped in ice, not daring to move. Robert hesitated for a split second, eyes widened staring at Amy, before snapping back into reality. Before his better judgment could tell him otherwise, he sprung forward into a sprint and dove through the open doorway, flying over Amy’s curled up body and entering a forward roll to disperse his momentum. As soon as he was upright again, he picked up their rifle off the floor where it lay beside Amy and aimed down the hall from where their attacker’s dart came from. He saw a girl with brown hair tied into a ponytail. She was wielding a dart pistol at her hip, walking quickly towards Amy, likely hoping to take away their rifle. Her aim was still down – clearly she hadn’t expected a wild Robert to appear flying out of the room – but Robert knew that he only had milliseconds. She was already lifting her arms up in his direction. He took aim and pulled the trigger. A barrage of angry darts hurtled out of his barrel, flying towards the girl, but she was too quick. In a motion that clearly indicated prior combat training, she jerked her torso to the side, dodging the dart laser. Robert adjusted his aim as she lifted her own weapon. Somehow, he was missing every shot. That was it. It was going to be over. He was nanoseconds away from finding out how the shock belt felt, and with all the nerves he went through in the past few minutes, his bladder would be unlikely to emerge on the other side of the experience with its contents intact. Then suddenly, out from the doorway came Mark, his body ahead of his legs, charging with all his force towards the girl. She yelped, recoiling as Mark collided into her. She fired a dart at the ceiling, her aim knocked off course, scrambling back on all fours to get away, her eyes wide in shock. Mark jumped to his feet, and pinned himself against the right wall to clear the line of fire for Robert. Robert took careful aim this time, making sure their enemy was directly in his sights. On all fours, there was no way she could escape quickly enough. He pulled the trigger and watched the darts eject once more. Though he was certain she couldn’t get away, to his terror, he realized he couldn’t either. Before his dart laser struck her, she managed to take aim as well and fire off a round, and it was flying true. Simultaneously, both him and his rival cried out and dropped their weapons. The sensation was like a horrible cramp happening in his bladder muscles, pinning them such that he was pushing out forcefully instead of holding back. He began to panic as he felt the liquids rushing to the exit, eager to break free from their imprisonment. The pad would not be enough to save him, it was over. He was jamming his hands as hard as he could into his crotch. It was his only hope, and it wasn’t much. But then, it all stopped, just as quickly as it had begun. The cramp subsided, and the buzzing stopped on his belt. He instantly flexed his muscles in the other direction with all the might he could muster, using every fiber to close the dam. A wave of pain erupted as the flow came to an abrupt halt. He felt a warm spurt escape, but everything else seemed under control. He looked down. Nothing was visible. The pad did its duty, saving him. He sat up, looking around. Amy had picked up the rifle and was holding it passively at her waist. Mark held out a hand, pulling Robert to his feet. Ahead of him down the hall, the pony tail lady was sitting on the floor, face buried in her hands, whimpering intermittently. Her legs were slightly spread apart, revealing a darkened patch between her legs, extending below her into a small puddle on the corridor carpet. She had been eliminated. Amy approached their fallen rival, her cheery demeanor replaced for the first time with saddened sympathy. “That was a good try, well fought. I wish you better luck next time,” Amy said The girl looked up, a weak smile breaking through her tear-reddened face. “How did you not lose?” she asked. “We found some pads. If not for those, both of us would be done for, maybe even all three,” Amy replied. “Were you the one shooting at us from the other hallway?” “Yeah. I followed you after you retreated, figured since you didn’t return fire, I could get some easy eliminations,” she explained. “But it seems you were armed after all” “Bad timing, truly. We weren’t armed until we got into that room,” Robert admitted. “Well, it was one versus three. I miscounted, thinking there were only two of you. Guess there’s always more to improve on,” she said. “Anyway, let me give you what I have as per the rules, and you can be on your way.” She emptied her pockets, handing them her possessions one by one. She had a pack of 10 darts, two two-cup water bottles, and surprisingly, another dart gun in addition to the one she used to shoot at them. Either she was very good at challenge rooms, or she had taken out a few other participants. With three weapons among them, Robert took the rifle while Amy and Mark were left with the handguns. As they turned to walk away, Amy glanced one last time over her shoulder. “You know, you should just let it all out now that you’ve lost anyway. It could earn you more credits given the new rule.” They heard the other girl chuckle, “The extra few credits aren’t worth ruining my image over, but thanks for the advice” And with that, the three of them continued towards the second door within the hallway segment.
  4. Chapter 2: He didn’t quite remember when he fell asleep, but the next thing he knew, his nightmare was cut short by the jingling tune of the alarm singing loudly near his ear. He slammed a button he hadn’t known previously existed and the sound ceased. He let out a relieved breath, chuckling quietly, as his mind returned to reality. He had dreamt of himself running through the jungle, naked, barefoot, stepping on sharp branches, as a gang of men much stronger than him gave chase not far behind. He was the last one alive against their alliance of four, and they were going to spear him to death. That is, until he escaped back into the real world, where they most certainly couldn’t reach him. Thankfully, the competition ahead of him completely lacked murderous spearmen. He threw his blanket off and the outside air immediately stung as it enveloped him with cold. He quickly stood up and stretched, knowing he had to get his blood flowing for warmth or he wouldn’t be able to resist going back to sleep. Despite the nightmare, he was right about the bed: it was the best sleep he had had in his life. The room was thankfully well-heated, and a short exercise session later, the cold vanished, giving him the motivation to make his way into the bathroom. Inside was another impressive sight – a shiny marble floor, gray streaks atop a white canvas, with a galaxy of embedded shiny specks. The shower could host a fully attended meeting from his recent company job, and the toilet could probably accommodate two. He grabbed the toothbrush he was provided and took his time brushing his teeth. He wouldn’t get to enjoy such a bathroom for another while, at least not until next month if he signed up for the competition again. He turned on the water as he brushed, habit of having to wait for the warm water to start flowing, but wasn’t surprised to find it immediately scalding hot. He played with both handles until it was just warm enough. Then, cupping some water, he dipped his face into it, clearing any last remnants of sleep, before turning his attention to the shower. It hit him that he should probably check the time. They had to congregate in the theater by 9 and knowing himself, he should make sure to have at least an hour reserves before stepping into the huge shower room. He peeked his head back out into the bedroom and glimpsed 7:45 on the clock. Plenty of time. He slipped back inside, and just as he was about to pull down his pair of yesterday’s jeans that he fell asleep in, he paused. It suddenly occurred to him to question, what would it feel like to wet himself right then? After all, he was about to compete in a game where all but one person would be forced to make this fundamental violation, and to do it in front of hundreds of cameras. Surely he had to be able to do it in the complete privacy of this bathroom. And yet, he found his mind rejecting even the thought of it, a brick wall in the way, solidified through years and years of habit ingrained from childhood. He hadn’t noticed this barrier before, perhaps because he never bothered to approach it, but now seeing it loom over him, he wondered how it had built up to be so strong. Surely if he wanted to, he was free to just go past it; it’s not like it was there during the first few years of his life. He stepped back from the shower to the center of the bathroom and tried to relax his bladder muscles, just like he would normally do when standing in front of the toilet. And yet, the action didn’t make it past his mind. He knew what he wanted to do, but it was as if the connection to his muscles was severed. It reminded him of the time he stood on the edge of a cliff after a long hike, wondering what it would be like to jump off and fall through the air. His imagination would play out the exact course of action – he would bend his legs, and push forward, leaping into open air – but his body wouldn’t move an inch. But what he was doing now wasn’t a matter of life or death. The consequence would only result in a minor mess… and social rejection. What would people think if they found evidence of what he had done? A grown man, in the bathroom, choosing his jeans over the toilet. Deviant… pervert… Wow, the conditioning is strong, he laughed to himself in exasperation. He tried to convince himself that nothing bad would come of this, absolutely nothing at all. Undoubtedly, they expected hosting such a competition that some contestants might choose to experiment ahead of time. No one would think anything of it. Holding onto that thought, he tried once more to relax his muscles. By now, he had gotten quite desperate, so it didn’t take long for him to sense the familiar feeling of liquid making its way to the exit. But just as it approached the very end, his muscles abruptly engaged, forcing the flow to a painful stop, as if not by his own will. It was going to be harder than he thought. Even needing to go this badly, he couldn’t bring himself to let go. He focused again, but this time, after he relaxed his muscles completely, he also gave a little push. The liquid rushed forward again much faster than last time, and once again, his instincts pulled back at the last moment, but as he had hoped, it wasn’t enough. A long spurt escaped into his pants, forming a two-inch diameter dark spot on his blue jeans. He looked down at it in fascination. His mind echoed with angry voices, scolding him for what he had done, but he ignored them, prioritizing the one other voice right beside him. That felt good, that felt free, it said. He let go completely, imagining himself standing unclothed in the shower where he would not face any barriers, and felt the stream start up again. It quickly expanded the dark patch, and ran down his thighs, forming tree-like branch patterns on his pants which eventually converged to one long glistening strip. It felt like taking a hot shower, except only below his waist. He observed that jeans were quite absorbent. He had to go quite a bit, and he was already going for quite a bit, but there was yet to be a puddle at his feet. Only as he felt the flow dying down into the final few drops did it begin to drip out from the bottom of his pants leg. Before it could go all over the place, he jumped into the shower and turned it on, soaking his shirt and the remainder of his jeans, hiding the obvious evidence. His whole life he found it incredibly weird that the wealthy class enjoyed doing this, or watching others do it. He couldn’t find a single reason for it. Wet clothes to wash afterwards and a puddle to clean up didn’t seem to define a pleasant experience, and yet, now that he’d finally done it, he saw something fun about it, something liberating. And the sensation wasn’t entirely unpleasant either, as long as he could wash up right after. The hot water beat onto his back like the strong fingers of a seasoned masseuse. He took off his clothes and wrung them out a bit before tossing this outside onto the bathroom floor. He lost track of time slightly with his experiment, so he wasn’t sure he could stay long. To be safe, he didn’t linger longer than he needed, washing himself and exiting the meeting room-sized shower right after. He changed into the uniform they provided him for the competition, which was completely gray. Gray underwear, with gray cargo pants on top, and a gray shirt, with gray socks. He didn’t have to guess why they chose that color. It must have a good contrast when wet. He left his room with 15 minutes left, closing the door, and joining the flow of participants walking down the hallway. Everyone wore the same gray uniform, both men and women. Robert was almost convinced he was a prison inmate, with everyone dressed in the same monotone shade. The theater was halfway full, with more and more participants filing into the seats like sand in an hourglass. He scanned around for Jessica, realizing that last night in the darkness he only remembered her by her clothes rather than her face. He spotted a few ladies with black hair, none of them looking in his direction. He wanted to see her again before they started the competition. As he walked up the aisle, he kept looking around, making sure to look at everyone who could be Jessica in case they were looking back. It didn’t take long for him to make eye contact with a woman in the far back, who was also scanning around, looking for him. It was definitely her, he was certain. He pushed through the congestion of people, squeezing in between seats, and climbed over a row to sit down next to her. She was grinning broadly, a stark contrast to her attitude the last time they spoke. “Tell me you didn’t just have the best sleep ever,” she exclaimed. “It’s all just a ploy to make us submit to the competition more easily, and damn did it work on me,” he agreed. “Did you do what the note said?” she asked, her voice slightly lowered. His heart dropped a few inches. Had he missed something? “What note?” “Dude, the note on the bedside table, you couldn’t’ve missed it,” she said. He thought for a second. Looking back, there was indeed some piece of paper that he unintentionally ignored. “I fell asleep super early, around 8 PM I think, and the next morning I just didn’t pay attention,” he admitted, a bit disappointed in himself. “So what was it?” “Oh well, it just pointed out that the minifridge had many different drinks to choose from, and that if I wanted to, I could take the time to practice for tomorrow, so I did,” she revealed. Brilliant idea, how could he have let it slip past him. “I tried so many new sodas I never knew existed, it’s fascinating. Anyway, I wasn’t exactly tracking how much I was drinking, but I did manage to last like 3 hours. Granted, we won’t be drinking nearly as much throughout this competition. Still, that gives me hope. So anyway, it was getting quite painful to hold after that. I probably could have done another 30 minutes if I really tried, but it was getting late so I decided to call it. So then, I figured with how rich these people are, something wild got into me. I peed on their carpet,” she recounted, whispering the last part all while giggling. He let out a snort, “maybe you were part of the wealthy class in your past life with how exciting you make it sound. Damn how did I miss that note! At least I got the chance to try out wetting myself this morning, get an idea of what it would feel like to lose,” he confessed, adding, “I wonder how many people also did the same thing” “Oh I’m sure most of them did. It only makes sense, especially with the suggestion on the note,” she said. Before he could say another word, the lights dimmed and the spotlight turned on, illuminating the same man from last night. “So, I trust all of you slept well! We have the best rooms you can get in the area, and entirely free of credit charge. Still, nothing is truly free, especially something so luxurious, so I must apologize that we did have cameras filming you in there. I didn’t say this last night because I wanted you to relax, but in the agreement, you did sign up to be filmed live throughout the duration of your presence. “For those of you who are horrified about what you’ve done thinking you were in private, rest assured, you weren’t alone. 78 percent of you chose to avoid the toilet entirely during the stay, and 87 percent of you avoided it at least once. That's almost a record! If it makes you feel any better, I am part of the 78 percent squad, no shame,” he laughed jovially. “Alright, so, that out of the way, it’s time for the game!” he paused, jokingly expecting cheers. A few brave whoops erupted from around the theater, but most kept silent. “Fair, fair, most of you are mortified, I mean, how could we be so evil to film you in a private space. Truly, sorry, but most of you would agree that the quality of your stay was worth the price. “So, now let me explain what will happen next. In a moment, all of you will be called row by row to come forth onto the stage to put on your equipment. Then you will be led backstage where the entrance to the arena is. There are 600 of you here. The arena has 10 floors, each with many rooms and corridors to explore. There are 200 starting points, so everyone will immediately go up against two others in a resource grab. The rules of the game are as follows “Intentional violence is not allowed. Punching, kicking, and other forms of physical fighting is strictly prohibited. Pushing your opponents with the intent of physically hurting them is not allowed, however, pushing as a means to another goal is allowed, such as while running to a resource, or knocking your opponent’s aim off course if they have a weapon. Likewise, tickling or other pain-free contact is allowed. Everyone will drink 4 cups of a refreshment of choice prior to entering the arena. “Afterwards, everyone must keep up with their quota of 1 cup per hour, more or less depending on game circumstances. You will have a watch on your wrist which will tell you how much you need to drink and how much time you have left until a penalty. The penalty comes in the form of a well-placed shock from your shock belt which will cause you to completely relax your bladder muscles. Usually after the first two hours, such a penalty guarantees a loss. “Of course, failing to fulfill the drinking quota isn’t the only thing that could trigger the shock belt. Players can find guns around the arena which fire soft foam darts. If the dart makes contact with any part of you, the belt will administer the shock. The wonders of technology, I know. “Drinks to satisfy your quota are not provided in advance. They must be found throughout the arena, and same with various snacks. The last person to remain with their pants visibly dry wins the game. Of course, I omitted the many different other gadgets you can find throughout the arena, I leave those as a surprise. “Lastly, I would also like to mention that in this competition we introduce a new system where the participant bonus of a hundred credits is now slightly modified. We still give 100 credits to all participants, but those who get eliminated in the more entertaining ways have potential to earn more, determined by votes of those viewing the event. With that, row one may come up to the stage!” The theater burst into loud discussion, a drunk tavern compared to the evening cafe that it was last night. Now that the start of the game drew alarmingly close, everyone was energized and nervous. Robert had to really raise his voice to be heard over the cacophony. “It’s unlikely we’ll be placed into the same starting point, so let’s try to gather resources as best we could, and then an hour in, let’s meet on the 8th floor,” he suggested. “Sounds good to me, the 8th floor could be large, how will we find each other?” she asked. “If we can, we should try to find some way to leave markers, even better if they were numbers in increasing order. This way, one of us could follow the other person’s trail. I say if we find a writing utensil, we draw numbers on the walls. Otherwise, drop something on the floor, leave a trail,” he explained. “That should work,” she agreed. “Row 9, come up to the stage,” the microphone voice boomed again. It was their row. They stood up and followed the train of people up to the stage. The line moved very quickly. Once it was his turn, an assistant staff member motioned for him to turn around and wrapped the shock belt around his waist. Then he secured the watch onto his wrist and patted him to move along. Robert looked down at his new device. The belt was a thin black strip all around with two protruding metal devices at the front. It wasn’t heavy at all, but that didn’t discount its potential. Robert was perfectly content with never finding out what it could do. Backstage, all the decoration and glamor fell away into an industrial-looking space, with crudely painted pipes running along the ceiling, and fluorescent lights blazing white splotches onto a green tiled floor. There were 9 doors, he counted, evenly spaced in the wall in front of him, each with a line of people slowly filing through it. A staff member greeted him upon entry. He was handed a card with a series of numbers on it. “Follow the doors in sequence by the numbers,” the man mumbled, repeating the phrase for the millionth time probably. This is where he and Jessica were likely going to part ways. She walked up beside him, glancing at his card. His read 5, and hers 6. “This is it then, good luck! See you soon” she said. “You too, try not to get eliminated,” he replied, waving as they got in line behind their respective doors. The trip to his starting position felt like one of those weird dreams, where he would find himself walking through doors repeatedly only to arrive at more doors – a never-ending infinite loop. It was like traversing some giant maze. He was thankful they at least had the courtesy to number all those doors, though the numbers repeated, so he wasn’t sure how helpful they would be without his card in hand. He clutched it tightly. 5, 10, 3, 14, 9, was his entire sequence. Finally, after going through the last white door, he entered a waiting room with three empty chairs. There was one other door there, a bright red one, likely the entrance to the arena. He was the first one there, so he sat in one of the chairs and waited. So far he had somehow managed to avoid letting it sink in, that the competition was about to start. Now, there was no more avoiding it. His heart was beating noticeably faster, and the familiar wrenching feeling in his chest came back, the same feeling he felt every time he would remember the rent he couldn’t pay, the landlord he’d have to face, or the deadline he dreaded to make. Who would he be up against? Would they be better than him? He never excelled under pressure. Whenever he found himself competing in a race back in school, he rarely won. This time, the race could determine whether he’d be able to turn his life around, or whether he’d have to partake again next month. Though he was seduced by the soft bed and warm shower, he would rather be on his feet, making his own money. His breathing quickened as the white door swung open. Some tall track athlete was surely about to enter and seal his fate. To his relief however, the newcomer greeting him was a girl, with straight brown hair hanging just above her shoulders, green eyes behind a pair of square glasses, and a white-toothed grin spread across her face. She wasn’t the skinniest woman, but she had weight in just the right places to accentuate her curves. Against himself, he felt a guilty relief, knowing that winning the resource frenzy was now one opponent easier. “Heyo, I’m Amy,” she chirped, taking the seat beside him. “You ready?” “As ready as I can be I suppose,” Robert replied, slightly taken aback by her ebullient attitude. “This one is going to be fun as hell, I can feel it. I got my tactic dialed in,” she asserted. She knows what she’s doing, I’m screwed, he thought, starting to play with his thumb. “You new?” she asked, glancing in his direction, and then back at the wall. He hesitated for a moment, not sure what to say. “I mean, yeah? You say that as if this competition has regular participants. I was under the impression that most come here to get some money in desperate times and go on with their lives.” “Oh well yeah, that’s most of 'em, but then there’s the niche group of veterans who enjoy this kinda thing. It’s honestly a blessing for us that the wealthy class somehow caught onto this perversion. Before, we used to be a kind of small community spread across the world, not much chance for interaction. You know the guy who set that holding record, lasting into the next day, well I know him, I was the runner up that round, giving out right before him,” she explained. Robert’s jaw went slack. What chance did he have against these people, who have been doing this for years? He was stupid enough to think winning first place was possible, but now even top three seemed like a stretch. “But don’t worry, given our numbers, we are usually so spread out across the beginner rounds there aren’t more than one or two of us. You’ll still have a good chance to win, I’ll even help you. We’ll have some fun,” she said. Just then the door swung open for a second time, letting in a short man roughly in his early 30s, a mop of messy blonde curls draping over his head. He was biting his lip and trembling slightly as he made his way to the last chair. “Hey,” he said – a short murmur that came out more like a croak. He clearly hadn’t spoken to anyone since he signed up yesterday evening, so his voice wasn’t warmed up. Robert sighed internally, glad that neither of his two opponents seemed to be a great threat. Amy offered to help him – a conversation which he was eager to get back to – and the short nervous guy still looked to be in denial of his situation to focus properly. Amy turned her attention to the man. “You okay, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, what’s your name?” she asked, chuckling. The man exhaled a laugh, smiling briefly. “I find it crazy how you can have a positive attitude right now,” he remarked. “Oh, you shouldn’t base your judgment off her. She’s here entirely by her own will, she enjoys this,” Robert clarified. The man shook his head, “I wish I could say the same. No, I’m about to embarrass myself in front of my kids, my wife, and worse, my employer,” he complained. “Employer? If you have a job then why do this?” Amy asked in surprise, her foot finally stopping its rapid assault of the floor. The man groaned in frustration, tilting his head to face the ceiling. “I was so stupid, I don’t know why I did it. I wanted to renovate the house a bit, but I didn’t have the money at the time. My job pays, yeah, but not nearly enough. I took one of those rapid loans, the kind you really shouldn’t take unless you know you can pay it back practically right away. I’m sure you can guess the rest” “Rapid loan, yeah, rookie mistake,” Amy agreed, earning the betrayed look from the man. “But don’t worry, you guys have me to help you. I always do this as a challenge, to try to get my two spawn partners to the final three.” The man’s face lit up slightly, but he didn’t say anything. Robert’s mind immediately jumped to Jessica. He couldn’t betray her, not after he had brought her hopes up, but what use would he be to her? Amy was the one with all the expertise. For now, he had no choice but to play along with the flow. They agreed to meet on the 8th floor, but that was not going to be anytime soon. His thoughts were cut short as a crackle sounded from a concealed speaker. A muffled voice echoed into the room. “Contestants, the game will commence shortly. All of you are now going to consume your first quota. The door from which you entered your intermission area is now locked, and the red door will open as soon as everyone has finished their drinks. Good luck!” A compartment on the wall across from them slid open revealing a screen filled with colorful icons of various sodas, like one of those vending machines Robert often used at the diner. The three of them walked up, forming into a line. Amy picked first, choosing iced tea. As soon as she pressed ‘confirm’, a mechanism began whirring within the walls, and soon, a liter-sized iced tea bottle emerged. She took it and returned to her seat. Robert couldn’t help but feel impressed. He had never seen such an unconventionally large container before. Next, the curly haired guy chose Pepsi, and finally, Robert selected orange juice. “I never got your name,” Amy asked the 3rd guy once they returned to their seats. “Mark,” he replied, taking a deep sip from his bottle. “Oh cool, I have a friend named Mark,” Amy commented. Silence blanketed them as they slowly sipped their drinks at a pace slightly faster than what Robert would find enjoyable. 10 minutes later, they tossed their empty bottles and eyed each other, each looking for words to say but not finding anything. It was another 5 minutes before the long-awaited metal clang echoed from the red door, signaling that the lock was now disengaged. The competition had officially begun.
  5. Preface I haven't written anything in almost 2 years, but I got the sudden urge to get back to it. If I ever write, it usually ends up being something omo-related for some reason. I began this story a few weeks back and haven't posted it because I didn't think it was going to be very good; I was kind of hoping I would shake off my rust in the process. I have decided now that it probably is worth posting it, just to get some feedback and share it in case someone might enjoy it. I didn't take much time to do any world building or planning, so I kind of jumped into writing without knowing where it will go. Expect plot holes and other such issues. The story is sort of inspired by the hunger games, depicting a semi-dystopian world where it is standard for those who lack money or have debt to be forced into participating in a large-scale holding contest funded by the wealthy class. I will post the story chapter by chapter. I already have a lot written so the first few posts are already set in stone (except for minor editing), but once that gets exhausted, I will start posting as I write. I am very much looking for feedback on how I can improve. Please do not hesitate to tell me what I am missing. Enjoy! Chapter 1 He stood staring transfixed at the tablet screen, his finger trembling slightly above the agreement button, hoping for something to happen, some miracle that would give him another choice. If he pressed the button, there would be no going back. Sharp words suddenly cut through his thoughts, waking him from the trance. “There’s a whole line of people waiting, hurry up lad, we need to get through everyone today,” the man demanded, his eyebrows meeting in collective irritation. As if the decision wasn’t hard enough as it was… His heart began to beat faster, knowing the person behind him would soon start hurrying him as well, but the pressure only blurred his certainty. He closed his eyes, thinking back to how he got here in the first place. Little money, an apartment he would soon no longer be able to pay for, and out of a job. He only had his dignity to sell, and there was one place where such a thing could be sold: where he stood now. He would find some way to recover from this, he had to. He wasn’t the only one in line out of necessity. Yes, that was it. Surely others would understand why he had to do it. Clinging on to this newfound clarity, he pressed the green “agree” button on the tablet. The man behind the desk nodded to the left, telling him where to go. He turned without a word and walked past the desk through a doorway, entering a dimly lit theater cramped with crimson velvet seats. It was sparsely filled – he was one of the first in line to sign up – but in the next hour, there would not be a vacant spot left. He entered one of the few non-empty rows and sat down next to a black haired lady. She looked to be about his age, early 20s, but she was leaned over, her face buried in her hands as if she were crying, so he couldn’t tell for sure. “So, what made you sign up?” he asked, not looking at her. She lifted her head, slightly startled. He caught an irritated look from her in his peripheral vision. “No other open seats?” she muttered back. “Not talkative I see, I just wanted to make a friend. If you’re here for the same reason I am, to win and get some money, then you should be wanting the same,” he said. “It’s a game of endurance, and only one person truly wins, there is no point in allies,” she replied dismissively. “There are runner-ups, and everyone gets paid for participation either way. But also, you’d be naive to say that allies aren’t needed. It isn’t only endurance, there is potential for sabotaging other teams, or finding ways to increase your chances. In that case, allies could be very helpful,” he persisted. Something shifted in her eyes at that, some tension left her muscles. “You want to win, go find someone else to ally with. I can’t help you,” she mumbled quietly, looking away now, not at all the tone she had a moment ago. “Hey hey, don’t you give up. We can win this, we can make the top 2 and we’ll figure it out from there,” he continued, risking to rest his hand atop hers. He felt her twitch subtly, but then she relaxed. “The whole world is going to see me, laugh at me. You try so hard to build an impression, an image of yourself, and then this…” she cried. “Yes, but let’s show them that we can persevere, show them that their stupid games don’t affect us,” he said. In truth, he felt exactly like she did, and like everyone else who slowly filled the room probably did as well, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “I hope you won’t be devastated if your hopes collapse, usually people with your kind of energy take it the worst. I have the advantage, I am expecting to lose, as much as I don’t want to,” she said. He hesitated for an instant, his stomach dropping out from under him at the thought of failure, the scenario he had been avoiding imagining. But then he shoved that truth off the table, and turned back to the page of perhaps irrational but much more comforting optimism. “I’m prepared to lose,” he lied, “but it doesn’t mean I won’t try my hardest to win, and it doesn’t mean I won’t believe in the unlikely until the very end.” She exhaled a dry laugh, “I wish I had your attitude. Either way, you are right about one thing, I do need to try to win this thing, and you aren’t giving up on me, so, I’ll bite. I’m Jessica.” She shifted in her seat to face him, and he did the same. “Robert, pleasure,” he replied, a smile forcing itself across his face. “So, what brought you here, you never said?” Jessica sighed – a sound he was quite familiar with. “I fell for the whole student business. I knew some friends who went to pursue university, saw them succeed from it, figured it was the way. I realize now that it was a scam. It works for those who already have it good, those who simply enjoy learning more. Not those who are going there to make it. Anyway, I'm stuck with debt I cannot repay, and those assholes at the financial department didn’t even bother being subtle, they just straight advertised signing up for this competition, telling me it was the only way out if I couldn’t pull the money out soon.” She paused, looking at the floor. Robert let out an appalled laugh, “Wow... Yeah, they aren’t even hiding it anymore. The company that owns my apartment complex at least had the decency to apologize after suggesting it.” “But that's alright, we’ll show them, we’ll play in their little show, and we’ll take their money for it,” she declared half-jokingly, though with a newfound energy she certainly did not have at the beginning of the conversation. Robert thought that even if they didn't win, at least he succeeded in lifting her spirits. He took a moment to look around the theater and noticed that it was full now, as he expected, not a single vacant seat in sight. The lights dimmed, and the stage curtains opened. The rumble of chatter died away, and a spotlight illuminated a well-dressed man on the stage. He certainly didn’t waste a chance to show off what he could buy with the money their organization made. His suit was gray silk, lined with undoubtedly real gold plating. The man tapped his ear to activate the small microphone chip in his mouth and began to speak. “Welcome contestants, I hope the wait was not too long. We will begin right away, though I would like to thank you for choosing to participate in this round. As you know, the funding we get from viewership drives our forward advancement; it is this fortunate balance that we struck that has brought us the prosperity of the past 50 years. That said, I know many of you are here because of challenging times. It is difficult to make the decision to sell yourself in this manner to the public, but I hope it gives you some reassurance to know that just those same 50 years ago, challenging times could have meant starvation, homelessness, or worse. Now, there is another path to choose from. “Tomorrow, we will begin the game. One victor will emerge with their dignity unbesmirched, while the rest will unfortunately suffer embarrassment. This is the first round of the tournament, awarding ten thousand credits to the victor, five thousand to second place, one thousand to third, and one hundred to everyone for participation. The top five placements will have the choice to proceed to the next round, or walk away. Though some of you likely already know the game, I will explain it now in detail, including the changes from the last tournament. After that, all of you will be shown your rooms and given the remainder of the day to yourselves. Tomorrow, everyone is to return to this theater at 9:00 AM on the dot. On with the rules now.” Robert listened for the next hour, noticing somewhere in the middle that the roles had flipped and Jessica’s hand was now atop his. The speech was mostly what he expected, but it filled in the many details he did not know. The game was effectively a holding contest, but played in a large arena where players would have access to many means of sabotaging each other. It would last until the last person standing, which typically didn’t exceed past the same day, though the world record was known to have gone until 7 AM into the following morning. Robert had no idea how such a feat was humanly possible, but after the speaker shared this fact, he could only pray no one even close to that skill level would be in the arena the next day. After the speech finished, the room instantly erupted back into conversation, with a sliver of panic added to the jumbled words from before. Staff members in fine suits directed the audience down each of the four exits leading to their designated rooms. “Hopefully we can meet up quickly tomorrow, try not to worry too much, get some sleep,” Robert told Jessica. “Thank you,” she replied, releasing his hand after they’d stood up. She lingered for a moment, looking at him as if she had more on her mind to say, but then simply added, “good night,” before walking off. Robert was led down the exit labeled with a number 3, though he doubted there was much difference between each of the four wings. His room, number 321, turned out to be unexpectedly luxurious, with a bed softer than anything he’d ever slept on. His body sank into it as if the mattress was one giant pillow. It was still 6 PM, leaving him with 4 hours to contemplate his predicament, and to say goodbye to his self-respect. He very much doubted that it would stick around after tomorrow. He lay staring at the ceiling, looking for patterns in the paint to analyze, but there were none. It was the same shade of white everywhere, not a single imperfection showing in the light. It looked almost unnatural, no shadow patterns to indicate texture or depth. For all he knew, he could have been staring into an open abyss, extending beyond into infinity. He wondered what tool could so flawlessly apply color on a wall, and why anyone cared to invent something like that in the first place. He knew he probably should be thinking about something more important, like his tactics for the game tomorrow. And yet, the bed was so soft, the ceiling so perfect, the furniture smelling like a pine forest in the break of spring. It was the best night's sleep he would get in the next many years, or perhaps ever. And all he had to do was risk a bit of embarrassment, potentially wetting himself on camera? Maybe he had it all wrong, looking at this as some bad outcome. The speaker on the stage had a point… tough times used to mean cold winters outside, freezing in the snow, losing fingers one by one to frostbite. He shuddered at the thought, pulling the thick blankets over himself. they were so cozy… so warm… he almost wanted to giggle, the primitive pleasure overwhelming him. Something clicked in him then, a realization. What was it that he was so afraid of? The wealthy were practically giving away their money with these competitions, running them every month. Was it the social rejection he thought he might face after the footage was published? Who would pay attention to him among thousands of other participants, and moreover, who would dare reject him after he made enough money from this? Who would question how he made his success once he had it? Win or lose, he was still winning something: a luxurious evening and one hundred credits. He beamed to himself, a rippling wave of calm spreading through him, purging all the stress he had no too long ago.
  6. It has been a super busy year for me, hence my lack of activity on omoorg entirely. Moreover, this particular interactive story started getting very hard to manage with all the numbers to keep track of. Thus, unfortunately, I will say that this thread is over, but that isn't to say that I won't start it over in a 2.0 version, possibly with all the hard-earned upgrades transferred! No promises though, it really depends on my time. Sorry if you thought that this was a continuation. Hope everything is well for all of you and maybe soon I will be active again!
  7. Target's Bladder Strength: 9 Target's Self Control: 3 Player's Influence Level: 35 Aura Level: 4 Target's Bladder: 89/100 > I need to get to the bathroom (35%) (+4.05% and x1.16 from Alex62) > I should just let go (40%) (+5.9% and x1.24 from LittleRaven556) > I should pee in the shower (25%) () + > Stub her toe (25%) (+4.05% and x1.16 from Alex62) > Sophie enters first (21%) (+4.02% from Babedut123) > Make her sleepy (25%) (+5.6% and x1.12 from GermanShepherd) > Bladder +5 (29%) (+5.9% and x1.24 from LittleRaven556) Randomizer winner: > I need to get to the bathroom + Make her sleepy [SUCCESS + SUCCESS] -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= It was much harder to get up than she had thought however. It felt as though weights were strung to her eyelids, weighing them to shut closed, but her bladder kept tapping her awake. The colder air outside her cozy blanket was washing her face into wakefulness, which made it easier. Maybe they could delay their plans slightly longer so she could return to the pleasure of her bed, but regardless of that decision, visiting the bathroom would be her first and foremost decision. She swung herself off the edge and onto her feet in one swift motion, and after wobbling for a moment on her sausage-like legs, she waddled to the bathroom. > Custom Dialogue/Action + > Custom Aura/Influence It was an unlucky roll of dice on the winning choices, so here's a LAST chance. 🙂 Also I know this was a very short response after a long time, but I was just busy and didn't check in here
  8. @LittleRaven556 The Aura to add to her bladder by 5 has a 70% success chance at our Aura level, so don't discard that idea @lethalty60 Shower will not render a loss, but you have the issue of bringing her so close to a bathroom that she might ignore your influence. Be careful
  9. Target's Bladder Strength: 9 Target's Self Control: 3 Player's Influence Level: 35 Aura Level: 4 Target's Bladder: 89/100 > Backtrack 2 stores, make loop (76%) > Meet at far store (24%) Randomizer winner: > Backtrack 2 stores, makes loop [SUCCESS] -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= A short exchange sent them to their final few shopping destinations. Alice and Emily together crossed a few more food, souvenir, and believe it or not, clothing stores before reuniting with the entire group. The 8 of them were exhausted having spent the past few hours touring the bustling city. Alice's head was dropping like a bobble head, and Mickey was leaning all her weight onto the nearby bus stop sign, her shadow from the descending sun casting across the concrete sidewalk. In the next few hours the sky would go dark, and no stars would be visible, but the power of electricity would keep the city illuminated like the bright Christmas lights on a snowy eve. Their hands were occupied with logo covered bags from almost every company that sold down their way making them walking advertisements. Enid drowsily slurred a suggestion of sleep, but Brenda complained that the city's best moments are during the night. Sophie acted as peacemaker and mediated their extremes to the decision of a short rest. They returned on foot to their room, a sleeping compartment which sat lodged between thousands of other rooms near the top of the building. The same man who had waved to them on their exit earlier in the morning now greeted them again as they reentered. There must have been some weight stringed to her eyelids because as soon as Emily entered her room and sank deep into the softness of her bed, she was quickly taken into sleep not bothering to take notice of her growing needs. The alarm rang in what seemed like minutes, but a glimpse at the bright squint-inducing screen led Emily to the slow realization that their collective nap lasted 2 hours. The sun had almost completed its journey across the sky leaving the horizon with a small strip of light like the crack of a door into a lit room. The city as expected held its brightness to an impressive standard, almost simulating the daytime. Alice was groggily groaning into her pillow and rolling around in the tangled mess of her blanket. Her smooth brushed hair had devolved into a mess of competing weeds growing on her head, some draping over her eyes. She managed to croak out a question about the time, to which Emily responded that it was 7 PM. She sat up in the bed, drawing away the thick blanket to reveal her smooth naked legs leading up to merge with her body where a small section gray of cloth concealed the groin region. An urge in the back of her throat invited her into a prolonged satisfying yawn which transitioned into a stretch, but as she lifted her hands as if to reach the ceiling, her skin pushed slightly against the growing bulge near her belly and she grew suddenly aware of her desperation. Her hands came to the rescue as the liquid contents threatened to escape and she felt lucky that the bathroom was right there a few steps away > Custom Dialogue/Action + > Custom Aura/Influence
  10. @lethalty60 Yellow is their line, Blue and Brown are the other groups. B means bathrooms but only for the ones that are already visited, not ones that haven't been found yet obviously. I kinda spoiled each store... but oh well too late now
  11. I would look back at the visual GermanShepherd made a few pages back, and then count which stores each group visited. I have an updated one but It would reveal some things that you guys can't know :P
  12. Target's Bladder Strength: 9 Target's Self Control: 3 Player's Influence Level: 35 Aura Level: 4 Target's Bladder: 50/100 > Head start (18%) () > Wash hands (27%) (+4.05% and x1.16 from Alex62) > Neither (55%) (+5.9% and x1.24 from LittleRaven556) + > No Influence (13%) () > Catch interest (87%) (+4.05% and x1.16 from Alex62, +5.9% and x1.24 from LittleRaven556) Randomizer winner: > Neither + Catch Interest [SUCCESS +SUCCESS] -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Alice caught sight of the sign and showed intent of going to it, but Emily held her back. "Hey, maybe we should finish shopping first. The other groups are counting on us to finish quickly," she suggested. Alice swung a confused look in Emily's direction. "Won't I shop faster if I don't have to pee so badly?" she asked. Emily had no thoughts against that argument. Besides, what would be so bad about her going to the bathroom? Emily parted ways with Alice and headed for the isles as usual, finding nothing that stood out to her. Alice found her shortly and they left the store with no purchases that time. Emily was beginning to get better at dodging other pedestrians and moving faster down the sidewalk. The surge of tourists had died down slightly for no discernible reason, but it was not something Emily wanted to question. All that mattered was that the congestion was dissolving slowly like salt in cold water left unstirred. Between the dissonant symphony of voices and car horns, Emily managed to recall her hunger. Alice was slightly farther ahead and if it wasn't for the volume of their surroundings, perhaps she would have called out, but at that moment, it would have been futile. Instead, Emily switched gears and swerved past the couple standing between her and Alice and caught up to her speedy companion. "Listen, those food stands look really good. Maybe we should grab something," she suggested rather loudly. "Didn't you have that pastry not too long ago?" Alice reminded, hoping to separate her from that thought. "And besides, I thought you wanted to move quickly," she added. "Yea, but that's different. If we are here in New York, it would be sinful not to try the street food," Emily persisted. Alice slowed her pace considerably, her eyes scanning between the crowd to find a desirable food stand. "Fine, you got me. That one over there, you see? Looks pretty good." They slipped between a fire hydrant and a pole passing carefully a few more people before reaching the food cart. The side of it was covered in a large image of juicy dripping chicken beside a mound of fried rice and vegetables. Emily's mouth was salivating like a faucet, and she couldn't help but reveal her hunger with her nervous and impatient tone of voice when ordering. The man smiled at them from behind the cart in response and gave them a 5 minute waiting estimate. Emily was tapping her foot rapidly against the concrete like a hammer. Alice appeared to have surrendered herself to the craving as well. Moments later, each of them received a plastic container containing what looked exactly like the picture. Emily had never seen an ad be that accurate, or maybe her hunger was clouding her vision. She opened the container and for a second, devolved into a starving savage who'd just hunted down a meal. Not too long after her attempt to drink the solid food like soup, she realized that Alice's fork approach was a more effective way of eating. They finished their meals outside their next store and disposed of the trash in the bin nearby before entering the refrigerated compartment that was the food store. Perhaps Emily recalled her hunger too soon because now, the aroma of fried meat didn't smell as much appealing as it would have before the rice and chicken. A familiar sign in the back met Emily's sight but knowing they wouldn't likely be buying anything there after having lunch, they left the store right away and skipped to the next one. Another souvenir store made their next acquaintance but the wares were the same as the last one only for higher prices. Just as they were about to leave for their next destination, a text message rang on both their phones. They found a spot to stand outside of the store and Alice took out her phone to read it. "Hows it going, we are finished with all our planned stores. You guys wanna decide how to go about this next?" Alice read aloud to Emily. > Choose the next 5 stores that Emily and Alice should go to + > Suggest 2 stores for each of the 2 other groups that they should visit
  13. Target's Bladder Strength: 9 Target's Self Control: 3 Player's Influence Level: 35 Aura Level: 4 Target's Bladder: 45/100 > Loop (100%) Randomizer winner: > Loop [SUCCESS] -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= After a short consideration, they decided to exchange their back and forth method of search for something more resembling a loop. It was certainly not the most efficient route given that they would need to backtrack a few steps, but perhaps it would give them a necessary break between shopping. Besides, the other groups would likely be returning for the further stores down the street anyway. Without any added delay, the 2 of them continued down the same street with the flow of the crowd and slipped out of the current when they reached the following store. The end of the clothing store streak was a relief, because Emily had begun thinking that they were cursed to only be able to shop for clothes, but thankfully that was not true. The next store on their shopping trip was a jewelry one. The strong sweet aroma of flowers that hit her nose as they entered that store indicated that perhaps jewels weren’t the only thing sold there, and that maybe they could afford something. Although the perfume section did not boast an impressive variety, it had all the right brands and both Emily and Alice found themselves attached to a product of choice. Unfortunately, New York prices were merciless, and they left a pretty penny behind for the scented liquid, but Emily managed to temporarily convince herself that it was worth it. Back into the bustling city they returned, merging like cars into dense traffic, travelling only until the next exit: a souvenir store. Surprisingly it was the first one they visited thus far. Emily expected that souvenir stores would beat clothing stores 5 to 1 but her assumptions were disproven, or perhaps their roll of dice led them into such a pattern. It did not matter how or why, because now that they were in the store, it was time to shop. Narrow passages were clotted by clumsy tourists struggling to wriggle between the glass shelves full of fragile sculptures resembling various memorable locations of the city. After their ascent to the top of tallest skyscraper in the city, Emily recognized one of statuettes that lined the edge of the eye-level shelf of one of the displays. It had an accurate form but was covered with a crude and uneven paint job, one that had a feeling of authenticity to it, as if it was crafted by hand and not by a factory. Though for most that would indicate that something was cheap, Emily noticed herself being more attached to the mini Empire State Building as a result of it. She took the rough carving into her hands, warming it’s cold surface with her palms, and went on to weave between the other visitors of the store in search of Alice, who somehow submerged herself past view into the depths of the crowded establishment. The congestion of the sidewalks outside almost seemed like a breath of fresh air after the cramped experience of that store. Alice sighed wearily as they found a little opening to stand in without getting in the way of others. Emily felt the outside of the bag she was holding, making sure that her hand-sized building was safely wrapped, along with Alice’s mug purchase. “I might need to pee soon,” Alice notified. “Yeah me too probably, but I don’t doubt that we will come by a store with a bathroom soon,” Emily responded, closing the conversation. Alice nodded in agreement. After a short break, the two of them crossed the street back to the other side and entered yet another clothing store. Perhaps the curse was still unbroken, or so Emily thought at that point. Luckily for them however, a distant sign peeked halfway over the shelves from the back of the store labelled with the familiar symbols of a man and a woman. > Alice could go use the bathroom while I get a head start on shopping > I should go with Alice to the bathroom. I’ve been wanting to wash my hands > Neither of us should go to the bathroom because we must finish shopping quickly. The rest of the group is counting on us! > Custom Dialogue > Don’t Intervene + > Aura: Make the bathroom have a long line [Rec.Lvl 20] > Aura: Make the bathroom out of order [Rec.Lvl 10] > Aura: Cause somebody to approach them [Rec.Lvl 10] > Influence: Cause something to catch Emily’s interest > Custom Aura/Influence > Don’t Intervene
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