"The game of truth, Have you played it, Anthani? A remaster from the same person who made the old one." The boy with strips of white and black hair showed his phone to Anthani; the blazing screen in full brightness had a game poster on display.
"Naught special there; the greed has taken the company, and they only make remastered versions of games to take the money." Anthani said, sitting beside the window. He was in his uniform, a silver shirt and silver pants, blazing when sunlight hit them.
"At least once, say you like it." The boy grumbled, weary of his friend's strange expression.
In the past few days, the boy had rarely spoken to his friends; he said things or reverted to questions with a poker face. Solemn and dull his tone would be, and sometimes his eyes would be gloomy. This fretted peer of his, but only answer they got was this: "Nought to worry about me."
"Fine as usual."
"Just a headache lately, will go away with time."
[What did You say?] The inner voice blustered out in anger. [Fool, the game is amazing. I loathe you for this. How can you say dull, pointless words? I like the game, and so should you.]
It wasn't just one voice but many; Anthani had been hearing these voices for many years. They had become a part of him. Each is different from the other. He didn't dare tell anyone; a fool he would be considered.
Anthani ignored the voice and stared at his friend. Nothing sparkling in those eyes but dreadful loneliness; even though he talked to people, there was no blissfulness. He shut his mouth and listened like a good pup.
"Outrageous!" Jari bellowed, "How am I supposed to know which one is the right option?" He cursed his phone after, wanting to hit it on the desk, but realized there was no phone if he broke this one. He cursed in his murmurs.
Wolten glanced at him in dismay. "Must be playing the game of truth, the old version, Jari!" He called out to him, "Stuck at the daughter and the possibility?"
The boy curtly nodded and went back to completing the challenge. Only to curse and try to smash the phone on the desk.
The game of Truth was the most popular game of the year; people were often playing it on their phones, desktops, and any device they could find. An addiction the game gave them, a dreadful addiction.
It was the hardest and the easiest game; it remained an outmatch even till this day. Funny enough, those who tried to make a copy of it disappeared or died. Frankly, the government itself couldn't shut the game.
A lie, the boy said inwardly. How can there be a game that can't be shut down and banned? Anthani was always dubious of the government; he knew something was up, something frightening.
The class teacher entered the class, calling them to their seats.
When it was time to go home, Anthani packed his stuff and headed off first before seven of his other friends caught up to him. On their way home, they encountered an old man begging in tattered raiment, his hands cupped and his voice desperate.
Anthani handed over a coin that he had, a coin with a man's image embellished on it. Yomi did the same, but the others cared not a bit. One of them, thinking it was fun, shoved the old man and cursed.
Anthani gave him a frown. [The b**t**ds are growing arrogant just by having a few coins in hand. Don't ya think so, Anthani?]
[Yeah, I'll be bashing him for this. Alas, Anthani is too feeble-boy to do that.]
[Bash, subsequently, get bashed too.]
The old man teared up, and the transparent liquid trickled down his cheek, dropping on the ground. He said succinct words, "The god will give you a lesson and a game you will play. Not a single one of you escapes till you know the truth." The old man walked away.
"A curse, I thought, he will spew. This is new and unexpected." Jari said.
"Shouldn't have done that; it's not good manners." Yomi said, "God be good and teach you a lesson."
"Yeah, yeah, religious boy. Those are false words; do you really believe the old man's words mean anything?" Sam said, bold and cocky. Always boasted about how loaded his parents are.
Athani was quietly looking away towards the old man; he felt pity and was somewhat uneasy.
When the boy reached home, he entered the living room. On the table were the plates, placed gingerly and swaddled in plastic wrappers. A note was attached to a plate.
[Father is late for work; If not today than morrow I'll be home and we'll eat between together.]
Lie, you aren't going to be home morrow too. He had his meal and went straight to his room, snapped on the computer, and opened it, the game of truth.
He liked it too but never showed it. His own life had become too strange for him; to keep himself soothed, he stayed mostly on his computer. This led to him speaking less to his friends or people about him.
When he was shagged of playing the game, Anthani peered outside; the sun had gone down to the horizon. The houses and the far mountains had been bathed in reddish and orange color, and the clouds about the mountain made it look as if the mountain was aflame.
When night had come and the shadows had encroached closer to his window and surroundings. Anthani thought to take a sleep when he went abed, his eyelids went shut, and he was in a slumber from which he was not to arouse again.
After a while, Anthani dreamt a dream so black and warm. His heels felt hot, and his skin felt as if it were melting. He mustered the strength to open his eyelids, only to see a tall man with a tungsten-made helm on his head, looming over Anthani.
"A half-ass soul, what a present for my lord."