Chapter 7 - The Game Changes
Rating:Â PG-13/MA
Genre:Â Fanfiction, YA Fiction, Horror, Survival, Video Games
Contains:Â Some scenes of violence and strong language
Summary:Â A year after the events of The Games took place, a new batch of YouTubers are faced with The Creators newest game, a game in which he promises no one will make it out alive.
Amidst some familiar faces that appear in The Games, and struggling for their own survival, do these new players have a chance of bringing down The Creator once and for all?
Wordcount: 2,110
Start at the beginning
Wattpad version here
The air inside the Game Room that morning was thick with anticipation. Thankfully, everyone had made it safely through the trials of the day before, but barely. Charlie had struggled through the maze and only figured out the answer to his riddle at the last second; racing towards the end while the time had counted down, drumming a lethal countdown in his ears.
Hart had only just managed to hold her breath long enough to make it through the water, and had to scramble to collect herself and run back to her room, her lungs screaming in protest the entire way.
The only two that had appeared unaffected that morning were Jordan and Emma. Castle eyed them with a sick curiosity, hopeful that he could act upon his theory today. He knew that Jordan was competition. He was far too strong for Castle to take on, and far too strategic to outnumber. If Jordan were going down in The Games, it would have to be an accident, or a mistake he made on his own.
Instead, Castle focused all his attention on Emma. The girl who was once one of his closest friends had turned into nothing short of a monster. She was ruthless when it came to getting her revenge, and he knew she would stop at nothing until she achieved her goal of killing The Creator.
The six remaining players braced themselves for the starting buzzer that was sure to go off any second. Charlie was in the first position today, followed by Hart and Phil, while Jordan, Emma and Castle made up the final three. Castle stared at the back of Emmaâs head, trying to read her thoughts. Was she nervous at all?
Her stance leads him to believe she isnât. She was motionless and rigid in front of him. Her small hands were gripping her weapon tightly in front of her, inches beneath her chest. Her breathing was steady and calm and her eyes gazed forward, seeing past everyone else to the spot where the invisible entrance lay.
He was so focused on the back of her head that he didnât spare any thoughts to what would happen inside the Games today. They had already been immersed inside of actual video games, then a maze, so there was no telling what would happen today.
The buzzer sounded and Charlie pushed his glasses down his face and disappeared. Hart bounced around on the balls of her feet, waiting for her turn. Her eyes were alight with nervous energy and anxiety, and she silently hoped that there would be no more riddles that tested her lung capacity. She didnât think she had it in her to go through that a second time.
One by one the players entered the game until only Emma and Castle were left waiting. Once Jordan had disappeared, Emma turned on her heels to face Castle. She looked him straight in the highs and spoke through gritted teeth, âWhatever you have planned wonât work.â
Before Castle could up with a response the buzzer sounded and she was gone. How had she known? He wondered to himself. He hadnât spoken to anyone, or given off any sort of clue that he had been planning anything. Maybe it was just a tactic to throw him off and make him lose his focus.
Without warning the buzzer sounded a final time and he stepped forward into the Game, shaking his head to clear his thoughts of Emmaâs words.
He let out an involuntary gasp as he crossed the invisible barrier into the playing field. He was back in Silent Hill. He tried to calm the growing panic inside of himself and cursed loudly at his lack of preparation that he would be back here.
He saw movement up ahead to his left and the determination to carry out his theory came flooding back, burning away the anxiety. It was common knowledge that he hates horror games. Thankfully, this game didnât have any spiders in it, at least none that he knew of. He followed the path in the direction he saw movement and aimed his weapon in front of him, prepared to take out whatever jumped in his path.
He rounded a corner and his vision went hazy. For a moment he thought there was a fault in the glasses, or a glitch in the game, until he realized what he was looking at was a thick bank of fog. He squinted his eyes against it and couldnât make out a single thing. He reached a shaky hand in front of him and watched as it disappeared into the thick substance, giving him the impression that his arm ended at his wrist.
He turned around, wondering if he should try a different path and saw the way he had come from was gone. The only way forward was through the fog. He removed his backpack hastily and rummaged through it, searching for a flashlight. The only things inside were a couple bottles of water, a warm jacket and a few packages of crackers. What had the Creator said? âIf youâre smart, you wonât need anything inside of itâŠâ He kicked the backpack and watched it skid across the ground out of sight. He had never thought to look in the small backpack before and with a realization that almost brought him to his knees, he suddenly remembered that everyone else hadnât been wearing their backpack since after the first day.
Maybe Emma was right. Maybe his plan wouldnât work. For all his intelligence, he was still the idiot standing at the edge of an impenetrable fog bank, cursing himself for his obliviousness to the obvious. Even Charlie and Phil, who fell apart over everything, had figured this out before he did. He cursed himself again for the thought. He wasnât better than them, if anything it was the other way around.
His thoughts kept spinning and he was running out of time. He stared straight ahead at the fog and slowly stepped forward into it. A low siren sounded out about the eerie silence and sent a shiver up his spine. Goosebumps rose on his exposed arms and he cursed himself again for kicking his backpack, and the warm jacket inside of it, away from him.
He continued to make small steps forward, completely disoriented inside the grey haze. He had no concept of what direction he was going in and with one hand still trained on his weapon, he reached his other hand out in front of him to guide him and help stop him from running face first into anything.
His knee suddenly collided painfully and he looked down to see what he had run into. He could barely make out what seemed to be the bumper of a car and as he trailed his hand alongside it, his suspicion was confirmed.
The sound of movement up ahead started him and he backed up a few paces until his back was pressed up against the side of the car as far as he could go. He heard the metallic scraping of a rusted, bent in car door opening and jumped away from the car, spinning to face it.
His weapon was in front of him, shaking in his hands. The thought of something or someone being inside the car had never crossed his mind. Again, he head movement through the fog, this time behind him and swiveled towards it, searching for the source. He spun back towards the car, waiting. All his nerves seemed to have collected inside of his throat and he stubbornly wished the Game would just end. A thin, distorted figure rose out of the car, barely visible to him and without thinking he fired. He kept firing until the figure slumped on the ground and stopped moving.
He quickly turned, not wanting to look at what it was and moved forward at a faster pace, determined to get through into clear air. He could hear swift movements all around him and pushed them out of his head as best he could. If he stopped and surrendered now, he would surely never make it out of here.
He was on the verge of giving up and resigning himself to the fact that the fog would never end when he suddenly burst into a patch of clear open space.
The street around him was deserted, except for a lone figure standing in the middle of the road before him. The figure was tall, his face covered in a bloody, rusted headpiece.
Pyramidhead. The thought came to his mind unbidden and he raised his weapon towards the figure and fired. Pyramidhead seemed unaffected and walked closer, raising his own weapon high over his head, preparing to strike down a deathblow. Castle squeezed his eyes shut tightly and hammered his finger repeatedly against the trigger until his hand started to burn and ache from strain.
He slowly opened one eye and let out a sigh of relief. The street before him was once again deserted and he was completely alone.
FIVE MINUTES REMAINING
The voice made him jump, but he was grateful that it was almost over, at least for today. He ripped his glasses off and bolted for the double doors, longing for the safety of his locked room. He made it inside and slammed the door shut, using his back to hold it closed until it locked. His breath came out ragged and his chest heaved up and down from the adrenaline coursing through his system. He knew he had taken down at least one creature today, possibly two, but was his theory correct? Were the creatures actually his teammates?
The thought horrified him and thrilled him at the same time. If it was true, he had used one of his companions as a guinea pig and killed them mercilessly to prove it to himself. On the other hand, it would also mean that he had figured out a secret about the Games that was certain no one else had. If anyone else had known, he was certain there wouldnât be so many of them left.
A pounding on his door startled him out of his thoughts. Emma.
âOpen the fucking door!â She screamed, while her fists beat against the barrier between them, âI know what you fucking did, Castle! I know it was you, now open the fucking door!â What was she talking about?
THIRTY SECONDS REMAINING.
He heard her huff from the other side of the door as she slammed her fist into it once and muttered, âThis isnât over.â
Castle let out another sigh of relief as the locks on his door clicked into place, sealing him inside for the night. He stepped slowly over to his waiting bed and threw himself on top of it, tossing and turning while his thoughts ran rampant until sleep finally took him.
~
All too soon it was time to wake up. Castle reluctantly pulled himself from bed and quickly changed his shirt. He threaded his fingers through his unruly tangle of curls, trying to push them out of his face as much as possible. He grabbed the weapon off the small desk and steeled himself with reassuring breaths. He knew Emma would be waiting for him, preparing herself to launch an assault on him for something he was unsure about.
Today would be the day he found out if his theory was correct. Today would change everything and he subconsciously knew that whatever had happened yesterday, had brought them one step closer to the end.
With one final deep breath he reached forward and gripped the doorknob in his hand, turning it slowly before opening his door wide.
Three sets of eyes met his and he faltered back a few steps. Charlie and Jordan werenât amongst them and panic surged through Castleâs body. Was this what Emma meant? He wondered to himself.
âLooking for someone?â Emma said.
âIâŠuhâŠâ Castle cursed himself for his lack of confidence. Under the steady gaze of the three people in front of him, he couldnât even speak a proper sentence.
âTheyâre gone, Castle. Charlie and Jordan are gone,â Phil said without emotion, answering the question inside his head.
Castle stepped back a few more steps as his brain tried to process the information. He had hoped he was right, but he didnât think it would feel like this. Guilt and horror at what he had done washed over him. His body continued walking backwards until his legs met the edge of his bed and he sat down.
Charlie and Jordan are gone, and they all know why.Â