Pain. That's the only thing Sylvia remembered as she woke up. It was the only thing she felt. "How...?" she asked, sitting up in bed. "I didn't get drunk again, did I?"
She realized this wasn't her room. "Wh-where am I?" her own voice made her wince. She struggled to get up and look around. There was the bed, a table, a chair, a phone, and a radio. A single set of fluorescent lights like you see in schools was hanging from the ceiling. The floor was tile. The walls, brick. There was a door. She tried it. Locked. "What's going on?" she muttered.
The phone on the table dinged. She opened it. It was locked to a group chat, with 9 people. Where am I? What's going on here? the texter asked.
Is someone there? I woke up in this room that I've never seen before!
You, too? I have no idea how I got here.
Sylvia picked up the phone. Hello, I'm police officer Sylvia Reagan. I woke up in a room I've never seen before. Do any of you know what's going on?
A tenth person entered the chat. Hello everyone. Nice to see you up.
A plethora of questions were hurled at the new person. Who are you? Why are we here? Are you the one who did this? What did you do to my family? Where are we?
The person said nothing until the questions stopped. I am O. I'm the reason you all are here. You will be playing my game.
And what game would that be? -Sylvia
Every hour, I will kill someone in these rooms. You must decide who I am going to kill. I will then play their death over the radio each of you have in your rooms.
The cacophony that came next was unbelievable. Everyone was exclaiming that this was insane, cursing, crying, or simply begging to be released. Sylvia sat there, numb. We have to decide who to kill -Sylvia
That's right -O
I vote for you. -Sylvia
The chat went silent. Do we...have to kill someone? one of the people asked. I mean, I'm all for getting out, but I don't want to kill anyone for it.
Sylvia curled her lip in distaste. How else are we going to get out? By praying?
Oi! I happen to be religious! one of the people texted.
That's sort of a rude thing to say another added.
I'm praying, and I'm not one to usually do that, a third said.
How do I know you all aren't the same person ganging up on me? -Sylvia
I'm religious. My name's Kyra, I'm 21, and I'm a college student.
I backed her up, my name is Taylor. He/him. 16.
I don't usually pray. I'd rather not say my name. I'll go by G.
Well then, Kyra, Taylor, G. Has praying helped us get out of here thus far? -Sylvia
9 people started arguing in the chat. A tenth person, one who hadn't spoken before, said a single word. Stop. -E793Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRD3myNDtoCns 220.127.116.11da2