Everyone in the room froze the moment the coffin opened. The air felt heavy, their feet refused to move, and even if they could, there was no way out.
Silva looked at that coffin. He could sense there was something inside, but he couldn't tell what it was or its strength, it was beyond him. The only thing he felt was fear, fear, fear.
"Peter... we have to run... we are going to die if we stay," Silva said.
"I... can't move," Peter muttered. Beads of sweat formed on his face.
They all watched against their will, and then a hand came out of the coffin. It was black and shriveled, with inch-long claws.
Finally, the creature came out of the coffin headfirst into a sitting pose. It was a humanoid creature with black shriveled skin that clung to its bones. It had curved horns on its head.
Its eyes were closed, but the moment it opened them, their purple shine reached everyone's eyes.
Bam.
Everyone felt a terrible force slam into them when the eyes opened. They collapsed to their knees and began vomiting huge amounts of blood.
The creature stretched its mouth open, its jawbones popping as it did.
"Arghhhhhh, finally." A dry and raspy voice came from its mouth. "I finally get to eat," it said. A smile formed on its face, a smile that made everyone shudder.
It pushed itself up to its feet. There was a pair of dried wings on its back. It stretched them out; it sounded like fabric ripping and bones grinding against each other.
"It feels good to finally be back," it muttered, then looked around.
"Now, this is pathetic. These creatures are already on the floor from my presence alone. I despise that.
Every creature should be given the chance to fight for their lives, hahahahaha, so I'll make you all fight for your lives, and the losers will be my food today." He then looked around.
"I want your world to know about my arrival, so I'll allow two of you to escape," he said and raised his finger.
He stretched his legs out of the coffin and walked out, showing his true size, standing at a staggering seven feet. His entire body was skin and bones, nothing else.
He walked away from the coffin in slow, paced steps, then stopped. "First game," he muttered and raised his hands into the air. A dark purple ball of energy immediately formed over his palm.
"Survive the rain," he said, and then fired the ball into the air. It went up and exploded into small balls, shooting down at the ground like rain.
He waited until the rain started shooting down before he released the pressure on them, and immediately everyone moved. They got up and scattered as fast as they could.
The rain penetrated the legs of some, ripping through their flesh, causing pain they had never felt before. Some were penetrated through the chest and killed instantly.
Silva used his sensing to the max, dodging as fast as his bones could allow him, but his body couldn't keep up with his senses. One hit his leg, passing through the thigh, the pain was immense, so bad he couldn't shout.
He started blanking out immediately as more came toward him. Then, all of a sudden, Peter dived, pushing Silva out of the way, and one struck the side of his abdomen. The pain was crazy, but he clenched his teeth and made sure that he pushed Silva away and got clear himself.
They slammed into the ground and rolled until they hit the wall, both groaning in pain. Luckily, the rain had ended, but more than half of the twenty that were here had died, two from their party as well, the blonde-haired woman and the archer.
Silva looked up in pain. He saw the bodies on the floor, his eyes widened. This was the first time he had seen so much death. His heart rate increased, pounding harder until it felt painful.
"Ohhh? Ten dead, ten for me to eat," the man said and stretched out his hands. A black liquid dropped from them and spread out in all directions. It went under the bodies of those that had died and then created a pool of darkness that they sank into.
The moment they sank into the darkness, the creature suddenly got better, his skin got fuller and muscles returned. He looked healthier.
"Ahhhh, nice," he muttered, smiling. His body vibrated, the sound resonating inside the hall.
"Wasn't that better? You all had the chance to fight, and you did. Now let's finally end this — your final chance to survive," he said.
"Fuck you." Suddenly, a middle-aged man yelled, "I have a family at home, I don't want to die here, I can't die here!" He ran toward a door, doing everything he could to pull it open.
"So loud, I don't like that," the creature said and pointed his finger at the man.
Pop. Splash. Splatter.
The man's head exploded into bits of blood and flesh, splattering on the door and ground.
Fear gripped everyone even more, but they didn't move.
"I wanted to make the next game simple, but no more, as that man has spoiled it for you all. The next game is, escape. Only two of you can escape, but only two people can move at the same time.
It is simple: if one person moves alone, he'll die; if three people move, they all die. And if two people move, the first person to leave survives, while the second person dies." He explained it to them, and then the doors opened.
Yet everyone was scared to move, what if they moved and the second person didn't, and what if the second person got there before them?
The ifs and buts were too much. Peter looked at Silva. "Bro, we'll go," he said.
"But if we do, one of us will die," Silva said.
"Yeah, and we know that's for sure because this creature just killed more than half. So you'll be the first to touch the door, bro," Peter said.
"What the hell are you talking about? There is no way I'm leaving without you," Silva said.
"Now is not the fucking time for this, bro! Do you think I want to die? Do you think the thought does not scare me? I'm going to fucking die, so don't make it harder for me," Peter yelled, tears falling down his face.
"You have your sister to take care of, she needs you, so you need to stay alive. Do you understand me?" Peter said.