Trigger Warning:
This chapter contains themes of isolation, anxiety, psychological manipulation, and on-screen character death. Reader discretion is advised.
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Micquel's POV
Damn it!
This place is freaking cursed—where the hell am I?!
I've been walking around this house for hours—literally hours—and I think I've circled the entire place. Still, not a single person in sight. It's driving me crazy! How did I even end up in this hellhole? There's no door, no window, no way out of this damn house!
And when I say no doors, I mean it. Literally. Every room here has no doors.
"Damn it, let me out of here, you monsters!" I screamed, unable to hold back my frustration any longer.
I'd been trying to keep my cool earlier, staying quiet so I wouldn't start cursing nonstop. But now? Now I've had enough.
Then—noise. Behind me.
I jumped and spun around. A TV had turned on by itself.
What the hell? Is this place haunted?
On the screen, a man wearing a mask appeared.
"Good day, Micquel," he said.
What the hell? He knows my name?! I pointed at myself, confused. Well, of course he meant me—I'm alone here. And yeah, Micquel is my name.
Instinctively, I scanned the room, half-expecting hidden cameras, like I was being filmed for a prank. But I saw nothing.
"You are inside a game..." the masked man said again, pulling my eyes back to the screen. A game? Like hide-and-seek and I'm "it"? Oh—maybe that's why no one's here. They're all hiding?
"Look at your clothes," he continued.
I glanced down. Wait, I was wearing a maroon school uniform earlier, right? But now I had on a plain t-shirt and shorts.
What the hell? Did these sickos change my clothes? I was about to scream when the man on the TV kept talking.
"That's your team color. You need to protect them, and they will protect you."
What? What team? I'm seriously confused right now.
"Look at your wrist."
I looked. Nothing unusual.
"Your tattoo."
I glanced at the mark on my wrist.
"Touch it."
I obeyed—and it lit up.
Holy crap, it's glowing?! What the hell did they do to me?
"That's proof. You are your team's secret weapon."
What the—ME? A secret weapon? Is this guy serious? I didn't know whether to laugh or be mad. Because if this is a joke, it's working—I'm losing my mind.
"You need to win this game—for peace. Please... win this."
Then silence.
And just as I was trying to make sense of it all, something clicked in my head.
His voice... it sounded familiar. I feel like I've heard it before... somewhere.
I opened my mouth to ask—but before I could say anything...
Bang!
A gunshot. Loud and sharp. I gasped.
On the screen, the masked man fell—shot in the head.
Even with the mask on, I could tell. Blood splattered the wall behind him.
My hands flew to my mouth.
What is happening?
The TV went dark. I stared—and suddenly, I saw my own reflection.
And that's when I realized... I wasn't wearing any disguise.
My true face. The one I never wanted anyone to see again. I'd shown it once before and hated the outcome. That's why I always hid it.
Then—I heard a low mechanical hum.
I followed the sound, eyes scanning until I saw it: a wall slowly parting, revealing a hidden room or corridor.
What's in there?
Despite my fear, I walked toward it. And what I saw stunned me.
Weapons. Not just any weapons—dangerous ones. Guns lined the walls, knives, and even more tools I couldn't name.
It wasn't all deadly though. It looked like a supply room—fully stocked.
"This is a hideout," said a woman's voice in a monotone. It repeated a few times.
Then she added something that made me pause.
"But don't tell anyone this is a hideout. Only tell people you trust. To everyone else, say this is your team's main safe zone."
I glanced down at my clothes again.
I bit my lower lip.
What the hell is going on?
Honestly, I still hadn't recovered from seeing the masked man die on TV. I sank to the floor, overwhelmed.
This is insane.
If this is a dream, someone wake me up—please.
I sat there for hours. My mind wandered to a thousand places and then... blank.
What should I do? It was too quiet.
I was starting to lose it. And somehow, I could feel it—this house was empty. No one else was here.
Just me.
I wanted to leave. But what if there's a killer waiting outside, like the one from the TV?
I know I shouldn't let fear control me. I need to act.
But anxiety was rising again. I couldn't breathe. I didn't know what to do.
I tried to calm myself.
I sang.
Yes—I sang, even if my voice trembled. Because singing helped me when my anxiety hit hard. It made the silence bearable.
After a while, I started to feel better. I stood up.
And I walked into the room ahead.
I'm going out. Because if I stay in this house any longer, I'll die of insanity—not from anyone outside.
I don't think I can last ten more minutes here.
As I walked, I scanned the room.
Nothing here was for display. Everything had a purpose.
Whoever set this up wanted it used.
I won't be surprised if I run into killers outside. Just look at these clothes and weapons.
I may not know how to use all of them, but I need to be ready.
And maybe, just maybe, I'll find a teammate. Then I won't be alone anymore.
I spotted a jacket and put it on—chills had crept into my skin. I hate the cold. Always have.
I found a pair of glasses too—thankfully. At least they'd hide my eyes.
I tied up my long, falling hair with a handkerchief I found, then pocketed another just in case.
Then, I turned to face the weapons.
Deep breath. I need this.
I found a double-edged dagger—twelve pieces lined on a belt.
Perfect. I strapped it around my waist.
Then, something caught my eye—two swords crossed on the wall.
Katanas.
I reached out. It was light in my hands. A small smile formed.
This was deadly—but holding it made me feel... alive.
I found a sheath for it and slung it over my back.
I think I'm ready. I feel protected now.
I glanced at a nearby table full of guns. I picked up a handgun.
Exhaled slowly.
You can do this, Micquel.
Be brave—just for now. Once you find your team, everything will be okay.
I stepped out of the room.
The light outside had grown brighter.
And then—I saw it.
A door.
Finally!
I ran toward it, excited. My hand reached for the knob—
"The password is your birth."
The woman's monotone voice returned, twice.
Guess I better get used to that.
I turned the knob, and I opened the door—
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