Gasp!!
Dave sat bolt upright, a ragged breath tearing into his lungs. His hands flew to his chest, his back, patting himself down in a frantic search for the bloody wounds and shattered bones that should have been there. He felt only whole, unbroken skin beneath the fabric of his orange overalls.
I'm okay... The thought was a disbelieving whisper in his mind. The memory of the impact, the crack of his own body breaking, was so vivid it was a phantom pain. He looked around. He was no longer in the sterile white space. He was in a cave.
Wait... How did I win the game? The last thing he remembered was the timer hitting zero, the feel of something small and wriggling in his hand, and the timid girl's face...
"Uhm... Ar... Are you alright?"
A soft, hesitant voice, came from behind him. Dave spun around, his body tensing on instinct. There she was. The girl with the jet-black hair and the wide, timid blue eyes. She was standing a few feet away, holding two wooden bowls that carried the faint, savory scent of hot soup.
Why is she here? The question echoed in his head, a mix of suspicion and confusion. She had saved him, but in this place, nothing came without a price.
Seeing the intensity of his gaze, she froze. Clearly hesitant, though wanting to come closer, but she was still held back by the wariness on his face. She took a small, aborted step forward, offering one of the bowls, when Dave raised a hand to stop her.
The reaction was immediate. She flinched as if struck. "I.. I'm sorry," she blurted out, her voice trembling. "I didn't know you don't like soup. I'm sorry, I should have waited for you to wake up."
Dave felt guilty of his earlier reaction as he saw her expression. "No," he said, his voice softer than he intended. "It isn't that. You got the wrong idea... Sorry about that." He remembered it all clearly now, her frantic actions in the final seconds, the desperate squeeze of her hand that had forced a life into his grasp. She had pulled him back from the brink.
He watched as she gave a quick, nervous nod, but she still stood rooted to the spot, clutching the bowls like a shield. He needed to put her at ease. She had, after all, just saved his life.
"So," he began, forcing a slight, calm smile onto his face. "What soup did you make...? Smells delicious."
The effect was instant. He saw the tight line of her shoulders relax just a fraction. A quiet, almost inaudible sigh of relief escaped her lips. "Ugh.. it's locust soup," she explained, her words coming out in a relieved rush. "I found some locusts at the edges of the cave here, so I gathered some of them to make a soup. I didn't know if you would like it, sorry for not asking you first."
"It's alright," Dave replied. He reached out and accepted the offered bowl. "Thanks."
He stared into the murky broth for a moment, bringing it closer to his face and allowing the warm, earthy aroma to fill his senses. It was a precaution, a final check before consuming anything in this alien environment. But it smelled... good. Simple and nourishing. He took a tentative sip, then a deeper one. To his amazement, it was genuinely good, a burst of flavor that warmed him from the inside out.
"It's nice," he said, taking another deliberate sip.
A faint hint of a smile touched her lips. "Thank you," she whispered, before settling down on the cave floor a respectful distance away, sipping from her own bowl.
They drank in silence, the only sounds their gentle slurps in the cave.
When they were finished, the silence returned. Dave watched her as she sat, her gaze firmly averted, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She wasn't just scared, he realized. There was a deep-seated shyness there, a vulnerability that went beyond the immediate terror of the games.
He had questions. A lot of them. But he needed to approach this carefully, to not scare her off. The most basic question seemed like the best place to start.
"So..." he began.
Her blue eyes flicked up to meet his, wide and attentive.
"What's your name, if you don't mind me asking?"
She held his gaze for a second before looking down again, her voice barely a whisper.
"Violet."
"Violet," he repeated, testing the name on his tongue. "It's a pretty name you have there."
A flush of red instantly spread across Violet's cheeks. She ducked her head, her black hair falling like a curtain. "Thank you," she murmured, the words quick and flustered.
Dave noted her reaction but didn't understand it. It was just a simple compliment. Seeing her momentary ease, he decided to press forward with the questions burning in his mind. He needed to understand his situation.
"Violet," he said. "If you don't mind me asking, I'd like to know how you got the bug."
Violet paused, her gaze drifting to the crackling makeshift fire as if searching for the right words in the flames. "I began running when you told me to," she started, her voice soft. "While I was running… I accidentally crushed something under my foot. I didn't see it at first. It wasn't until the timer had only one minute left that it… became visible. A small outline appeared on the floor where I had stepped." She paused, gathering her thoughts before concluding, "So that was how I got the bug."
Dave nodded slowly, the pieces clicking into place. So the Game Maker left the bugs hidden, only making them visible in the final minute. Offering a last-second, desperate way out. It's a good thing she saw it early. If not… The thought trailed off, a reminder of how close he had been to oblivion. It also meant he hadn't properly thanked her.
"Oh, and…" he began, his tone shifting to one of genuine, calm appreciation. "Thanks for remembering about me."
Violet's face reddened again, a deeper crimson this time. She waved a hand dismissively, though her shoulders relaxed slightly. "No problem," she said, her voice a little stronger. "No problem at all…" Her words trailed off, and she looked down at her hands, her expression clouding with guilt. "I only wish I could have done better than to put someone in that state because of my… my anxiety sickness. I just freeze up with any little things... It's so stupid."
Her confession made Dave understand the depth of her fear. It wasn't just shyness; it was a paralyzing condition. And people like her make easy targets for people like Rex.
Dave didn't dwell on her confession, instead steering the conversation toward the present. "Do you know how we got here?" he asked, gesturing to the cave around them.
Violet shook her head. "Not exactly. All I remembered was after giving you the bug, my vision darkened, and I woke up here. In this cave…" She glanced at him briefly. "…with you."
Dave absorbed this, his eyes scanning the dark tunnel leading away from their small fire-lit chamber. "Have you, by any chance, walked forward to see where we are in this cave?"
Violet paused again, her body language shifting. She hugged her knees to her chest, her gaze fixed on the fire, a clear sign she was deciding what to say.