All Of Us Are Dead
I just stood there, frozen, staring at the number on the screen.
Two hundred and fourteen people.
Dead.
I felt something claw at the inside of my throat, but I swallowed it down. My hands were shaking, my nails biting into my palms.
The Game Master’s grin faltered for the first time. It looked… disappointed.
“Oh, come on now,” it said, voice softening to a mocking pout. “Where’s your enthusiasm? You’re still here! You’re the lucky ones!”
Lucky…
Lucky to be breathing in this godforsaken place, lucky to dance for our lives, lucky to watch people explode or crumble while something with glowing eyes clapped like it was watching a talent show?