Morning came too bright, too soon. Harsh fluorescent lights blinked on without warning, dragging the room from uneasy half-sleep into raw awareness. No one had heard the doors open, but the corpse was gone. They must have taken it while the dorms slept. In its place lay nothing but a faint smear on the floor, scrubbed clean, clinical.
Lucia sat up immediately, black curls wild around her face. She rubbed her eyes, then glanced across the room. Aaron was already awake, perched on the edge of his bed with his glasses in hand, cleaning them methodically with the corner of his shirt. His face was unreadable.
"They took him," Aaron said simply.
"No shit," Valerio muttered from the bunk above, his deep voice still gravelly from sleep. "Question is, where?"
"Not like it matters." Cheryl stretched lazily, her bleached hair catching the light, eyes narrowing with something like amusement. "He's not coming back."
A low murmur filled the room as the others stirred. Hunger made itself known in growling stomachs, and the heavy air of dread carried into every movement. No one had forgotten the gunshot.
The door hissed open, startling them all. A guard in black armor stood framed in the doorway, faceless behind a mirrored visor.
"Breakfast. Follow."
The group hesitated until another figure appeared this one carrying a shock baton, tapping it once against the doorframe. The sound was enough. Slowly, reluctantly, they filed out.
The hallways stretched in sterile white, screens embedded along the walls. They flickered with static, then rolled through names, numbers, and faceless silhouettes. No ranks yet. No instructions. Just the subtle hum of surveillance wrapping around them.
As they walked, Lucia leaned toward Aaron. "Two days, maybe three, before they tell us the rules," she whispered.
He adjusted his glasses. "And by then, half of these kids will already be losing their minds."
Valerio overheard and chuckled darkly. "Good. Makes it easier."
Cheryl's lips curved into that strange smirk again. "Or harder. Depends what side you're on."
The group emerged into a cavernous dining hall with long metal tables, cameras fixed in every corner, and guards standing stiff at each exit. The food was already laid out in neat trays. Real food, steaming hot. Too real.
For a second, hunger drowned out fear. Trays clattered. Voices rose. Teenagers clustered into groups, sizing each other up, whispering deals, cracking jokes too loud and too brittle.
Somewhere in the far corner, laughter erupted a sharp, hysterical sound that didn't stop, even after a guard's baton struck the table to silence it.
Aaron frowned, lowering his tray. "This is all part of it," he said quietly.
Lucia's smirk returned. "Of course it is."
The cafeteria eventually thinned, kids shuffling back toward the dorms under the watchful eyes of guards. The steel corridors funneled them like cattle, footsteps echoing against the walls.
Inside their room, the tension was thicker. Five bunks lined the walls, thin mattresses and metal frames groaning under the weight of restless bodies. A single dim bulb swayed from the ceiling, casting restless shadows.
Lucia sprawled on her bunk like she owned it, black curls fanned across the pillow, one boot dangling off the side. Aaron sat cross-legged on his mattress, polishing his glasses with his shirt, eyes distant.
Valerio leaned against the wall, arms folded, tattoos shifting with the flex of his muscles. His smirk hadn't left since the cafeteria, like he was already ten steps ahead of everyone else.
Cheryl sat at the edge of her bed, swinging one leg idly, gaze sharp even when she looked bored.
Rome, who'd been steady the night before, now sat rigid, jaw tight. Even his calm had limits.
The silence stretched until Lucia broke it.
"Well," she drawled, "that was cheery. Contestants. Kinda has a ring to it, don't you think?"
"Has a noose to it," Aaron muttered.
Valerio chuckled. "Doesn't matter what they call it. The only thing that counts is surviving." His eyes flicked toward Cheryl, who met his gaze without flinching.
"Surviving," she repeated softly, her lips curving not quite a smile, not quite a threat.
Rome finally spoke, his voice low, gravelly. "Some of you talk too much. Talking won't save you."
Lucia sat up, grin sharp. "And what will? Punching your way out of here? Good luck with that, big guy."
For a moment, the tension sparked like flint against steel Lucia's smirk against Rome's glare, Valerio watching like it was a show worth betting on.
Aaron sighed, rubbing his temple. "This is exactly what they want."
"What do you mean?" Cheryl asked.
He met her eyes, green behind the glass. "Conflict. Chaos. Us tearing each other apart before the game even starts. Makes it easier for them."
In the next bunk, someone muffled a quiet sob another kid from down the hall, not part of their group, curled into himself under the blanket.
Lucia glanced at him, then at Aaron, and whispered just loud enough for her twin to hear: "Told you. Game or not, we'll figure out how to play it."
Aaron didn't answer. But his silence said enough.
Around them, the cafeteria had slipped back into restless chatter, though the undercurrent of tension never quite left. Every laugh was too loud, every whisper too sharp. The guards leaned against the walls with rifles at their sides, watching without watching.
A wiry blond kid sat near the back, chewing something bitter, eyes flicking like they were never still. He didn't belong to any group yet , the sort who'd rather poke a viper than apologize for it. You'd notice him if you were looking for trouble.
When the call came to return to the dorm halls, trays clattered as kids reluctantly filed out. The groups scattered, some sticking close to the people they arrived with, others drifting alone in the crowd.
Lucia nudged Aaron with her elbow as they walked. "Shower?"
Aaron shot her a skeptical look. "With about a hundred strangers and maybe ten working taps? Sounds like paradise."
Cheryl, who'd been just a few steps behind, slid into pace with them, flipping her hair over one shoulder. "They said ten minutes of warm water. The rest's ice cold. First come, first served."
Lucia arched a brow. "Oh, so now you're our news source?"
Cheryl looked over. "Maybe I just pay attention."
Aaron muttered, "Or maybe you just like the sound of your own voice."
That earned a sharp laugh from Cheryl, but she didn't bite back. Instead, she glanced ahead to the door marked with the faded red stencil: FEMALE BATHROOMS. The boys split off toward their side, leaving the girls to push through a crush of voices and steam.
Inside, the air was thick with heat and chlorine, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. Cracked mirrors lined the walls above a row of sinks. The line for showers wound halfway out the door girls wrapped in towels, clutching soap, bickering over who would get the last of the warm water.
Lucia leaned against the tiled wall, arms crossed. "Communal bathrooms. Real classy."
Cheryl tossed her hair back, rolling her eyes. "What, not what you're used to?"
Lucia gave her a sidelong glance, lips twitching as if she had a comeback ready but the words died when a sharp choked sob echoed near the sinks.
Heads turned. A small girl, no older than fifteen, was crouched in the corner, her breaths shallow and frantic. Tears streamed down her face as her hands clawed at her knees. She was gasping like she couldn't get air, chest hitching.
The line faltered. Some girls exchanged nervous looks. One muttered, "Seriously? Drama already?" Another just sighed and shifted closer to the stalls.
But then, someone pushed through the crowd. Short brown hair, damp from a rinse, freckles across her nose and sharp blue eyes that cut through the haze of steam – Layla crouched low beside the trembling girl. She crouched low beside the trembling girl, her voice calm but firm.
"Hey. You're okay. Look at me." She pressed her hand gently against her own chest. "Breathe with me. In…" She inhaled slowly, exaggerated so it was impossible not to follow. "And out."
The panicking girl tried, choking on the breath, tears spilling. The stranger stayed with her, steady, unwavering. "Again. In. Out. You're safe. Right here, with me. You're safe."
Lucia tilted her head, watching, her smirk fading into something unreadable. Cheryl's lips parted slightly, her earlier sharpness gone.
It took minutes, but the sobs quieted, the breathing steadied. The younger girl sagged, exhausted but calmer.
"Good," the short-haired girl whispered, smiling faintly. "That's it. You did it." She helped her up, guiding her toward the showers. "Take the warm water first. You need it."
A few groans rippled through the line, but no one argued.
Lucia finally muttered under her breath, "Hero complex."
Cheryl, arms folded, smirked faintly but didn't look away. "Or maybe she's just not an asshole."
The walk back to the dorms was quieter than before. A few kids whispered about the scene in the bathroom, some scoffing, others impressed. The guards ushered them along with bored expressions, like it was all routine.
Lucia trailed behind Cheryl, towel slung over her shoulder, her curls still damp and frizzy. Aaron was already waiting at the stairwell, glasses fogged slightly from the steam.
"Well?" he asked. "Worth the ten minutes?"
Lucia shrugged. "Got a show."
Cheryl sneered faintly. "And a savior."
Aaron's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Before either could answer, the door to their dorm creaked open, and a figure slipped in ahead of them the same girl from the bathroom – Layla, she carried herself like she wasn't fazed by the stares following her.
She dropped onto an empty bed across from theirs, running a hand through her short brown hair. For a moment, silence. Then she glanced up at the roomful of eyes on her.
"What?" she asked plainly, almost amused. "Somebody had to help her."
The freckled boy from earlier the one still jittery about the guards snorted nervously. "Or you just painted a target on your back."
Layla leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "If keeping someone alive puts a target on me, so be it."
The room shifted at that half skeptical, half intrigued. Valerio, lounging shirtless on his bed with his tattoos sprawling across his arms, chuckled low. "Brave words for day one."
Cheryl's lips curled into something between a smirk and a challenge. "Or naïve."
Layla's eyes flicked toward her, cool but not combative. "Maybe. But I'd rather be naïve than watch someone choke to death and do nothing."
Aaron tapped the frame of his glasses, studying her. Lucia tilted her head, eyes narrowing not mocking this time, but measuring.
Finally, she let out a snicker as she curled her lips again. "Guess that makes you the hero then."
Layla shrugged, unbothered. "Hardly. Just human."
The tension broke with a few nervous laughs, a cough, the shuffle of bodies settling into beds. But the impression stuck Layla wasn't loud, wasn't flashy. Just steady. And somehow, that steadiness demanded attention.
Valerio swung his legs over the side of his bed, leaning forward with that half-lazy, half-predatory grin. "Human," he repeated, mocking Layla's words. "Cute. But being human won't keep you alive here. Might even get you killed faster."
Cheryl laughed softly, low and smoky. "He's not wrong. You'll learn." She tilted her head, blonde hair falling over one shoulder as she looked at Layla. "If you don't, well… less competition for the rest of us."
Layla didn't flinch. "So you'd rather compete against corpses?"
That actually pulled Valerio up short. He arched a brow, then grinned. "Better odds."
Cheryl's eyes glinted, enjoying the little exchange like a cat toying with a mouse. "You'll figure it out soon enough, sweetheart. All that soft-hearted stuff? People eat it alive."
Layla's jaw tightened. "Maybe. Or maybe you're just scared of someone not playing by your rules."
The room stirred some kids whispering, some outright watching.
Cheryl pushed off her bed, stepping closer until she loomed just enough to make it clear she wasn't backing down. "Scared?" Her voice dripped sarcasm. "I don't scare easy."
Valerio chuckled, watching the tension like it was entertainment. "Careful, blondie. She might bite."
Lucia stared from her corner, clearly enjoying the sparks but not stepping in. Aaron only shook his head, muttering something about people being idiots, though his eyes never left the exchange.
Layla, to her credit, didn't move. She just crossed her arms, blue eyes steady. "Good. Then you'll survive long enough to see I'm right."
The silence stretched until Cheryl scoffed, tossing her hair back, and retreated to her bed with exaggerated boredom. Valerio leaned back again, laughing under his breath.
"Not bad, new girl," he said. "You've got some teeth after all."
The tension bled out slowly, conversation shifting elsewhere. But the line had been drawn Layla wasn't going to slip quietly into the background, and Cheryl wasn't going to let her off easy.
The lights dimmed without warning, a harsh buzz echoing overhead before the room sank into a shadowy half-dark. A few kids cursed under their breath; others stiffened, glancing toward the cameras glowing faintly in the corners.
Lucia leaned back, folding her arms, a sharp grin tugging at her lips. "Guess that's bedtime."
Aaron slid his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Guess we don't get to decide that anymore."
Across the room, Valerio stretched out like a wolf in a den, still laughing softly to himself. Cheryl lay on her back, one arm draped over her stomach, eyes closed but alert. Layla remained seated for a long moment before finally curling onto her bed, her shoulders tense, jaw still set from the argument.
The hum of the cameras filled the silence until even that faded into the steady rhythm of uneasy breathing. For the first night, no one felt safe.
And somewhere, behind the walls, someone was watching.