Suddenly, a square-shaped hole opened up on the floor.
What emerged was a gumball machine.
It rose from a platform inside the hole—overflowing with tiny balls that had been inscribed with numbers. Anyone could guess what its purpose was if they knew the next game.
I fought back bile rising in my throat at the situation that once made me giggle when I'd only read it as a line on a page. The real thing felt leagues more eerie and mocking than before I died.
"Please form a line and p-p-pick a number," came Brittle from the speakers.
Everyone begrudgingly formed a line with the threat of their head popping at any sign of disobedience. One by one we each turned the knob and received a random assigned number.
For this next part, I could do nothing but hope that I wasn't forced to fight a man. The worst case scenario would be one of the muscled giants that stood out from the line in sheer stature. I clearly wasn't the only one as the more frail players took worried glances at the same individuals.
When it was my turn, I sighed. Pressing my lips together in a tight line, I turned the knob. The machine clunked for a few beats as a numbered ball fell through its internal infrastructure.
I reached out and pulled out a number.
"…21" I breathed out, dazed. It meant nothing yet, but in the next hour, it would spell out the odds of my death.
I turned to join the already-assigned players lining the walls.
"May the odds be ever in my favor," I mumbled sardonically.
"Why thank you," Simon said, smirk in his voice.
I whipped around to see an amused Simon pointing his signature grin at me, only a few people down the line. Cursing myself for not simply ignoring him, I swiftly turned on my heel to join the others. I felt my body shiver in repulsion.
I could make an endless list of reasons to stay the fuck away from the bastard. I would never give him a reason to speak to me again.
As the last person was assigned a number multiple doors opened around the dome. They appeared under TV screens that displayed the range of numbers.
"Ple-ease enter the assigned door for your 1v1 matches," Brittle squeaked out, "Oh and please recycle the b-balls in the provided b-bins in the hall."
At the announcement of the game, the players again erupted in unease.
"One more thing! I-if you try to lie a-about your number, the c-camera's will know and you will be e-eliminated," Brittle warns, probably ruining a lot of people's plans.
I found the door along with a crowd that had the same range as the one plastered on the screen. Among them I saw a bald muscled giant walk through. I bit my lip as nerves racked through me at the possibility of being matched with him.
As more hallways appeared with narrowing ranges, the crowd widdled down but that man still continued on in my group. Being one of the last ones through, I didn't see most of the assigned numbers before they returned them.
A skinnier man started breathing heavy as the group continued to shrink down—to ten, to eight, to six and to just four. Him, me, a young skiddish woman, and the giant. I didn't blame him as I was having my own reckoning with what possible brutality awaited.
I began to pray to whatever entity sent me to hell, begging, pleading with them not to match me with the bald giant.
That motherfucker must really hate me.
The numbers above my final door were 21 and 19. I saw the young blonde lady rush through the opposite door, fists clenched.
"T-thank you god!" The skinny man screamed, rushing through he door labeled "22 and 20."
I was going to die.
Just like this.
I wanted to scream.
The door opened and the bald man ducked through into a glass box. Within the glass walls was a boxing ring with a crowd of masked spectators on the other side.
"O-okay all players! Each ma-match is a fight to the death! The winner is the survivor, t-there are no other rules," Brittle announced for each match.
Me and this muscled man took opposite sides on the ring, the door we came through slamming behind us.
I overheard the whispers of the audience.
"This is hilarious!"
"Should I bet on the girl for kicks?"
"She's gonna die from the first punch!"
My mind was blank as Brittle's voice came through a final time.
"P-lease begin!"