Serafina was observing the place until she heard footsteps and metal doors getting closer.
The door in front of her opened and a masked figure emerged from the shadows before her, voice distorted.
"Welcome," he said calmly. "You've been selected."
"For what?" she asked, her throat dry.
"A game," he replied.
Her pulse spiked. "I didn't agree to"
"No one does," he cuts in.
A screen flickered behind him.
Rows of faces appeared, men and women, some scared, some hardened, all stripped down to the same gray uniforms.
At the top of the screen, words appeared in red:
NO NAMES.
NO HISTORY.
NO MERCY.
The masked man continued.
"You will choose a codename. You will follow the rules. You will earn your survival."
"And if I don't want all this?" she asked.
The man tilted his head, pointing a gun at her head.
"Then you disappear this minute."
The screen shifted.
A countdown began.
00:10… 00:09…
Around her, strangers whispered their chosen names into the dark.
Those that chose not to participate were killed immediately on that spot.
She swallowed.
When it was her turn, she didn't choose something powerful.
She chose something true.
"Echo," she said with her fingers trembling.
Somewhere among the players, the man sent to kill her lifted his head for the first time, watching her.
The timer hit zero.
The doors opened.
The doors didn't open all the way.
They stopped halfway, just wide enough to remind everyone that escape was only an illusion.
Echo stood still, fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeves.
Around her, the others shifted, some pacing, some whispering, some already breaking under the weight of the room. Fear comes in different shapes.
She noticed that before anything else.
A voice echoed through hidden speakers.
"Before the game begins," they said calmly, "you will learn to wait."
The lights dimmed.
A murmur rippled through the group.
Waiting was worse than the rules.
Waiting lets the mind wander.
Echo's gaze drifted across the room.
No one met her eyes for long.
People looked past her and around her except one man standing several steps away, posture relaxed, his expression was unreadable beneath his mask.
She felt him watching.
Not openly but precisely.
A buzzer sounded in the room.
Metal lockers slid open along the walls.
"Collect your belongings," the voice instructed. "Everything you keep may be taken from you later."
Echo approached a locker. Inside were simple items:
A knife.
A thin blanket.
A water bottle.
A sealed envelope with her codename printed on it.
She hasn't opened the envelope yet.
Across the room, someone laughed nervously. "This is sick. Is this a joke?"
No one answered.
A man collapsed to his knees instead, hands shaking.
Echo hesitated then crossed the space and knelt beside him.
"Breathe," she said quietly. "Slow."
Cameras adjusted. Red lights blinked.
Touching wasn't allowed.
One of the subordinates frowned. "She broke protocol."
"Then why isn't the system flagging it?" another asked.
A pause.
Requiem watched through his own screen, jaw tightening.
That wasn't part of the plan.
She was supposed to stay isolated.
Unnoticed.
Easier to erase that way.
He turned away before the feeling settled too deeply.
The voice echoed through the hidden speakers.
"You are not equals," it said. "You never were."
The screens flickered to life, displaying blurred silhouettes, men seated at a long table, faces obscured by shadow.
Power without identity.
Mafia without names.
"These are the people watching you," the voice continued. "They are not interested in who you are. Only in who you will become."
Back in the hall, players were instructed to sit.
Chairs scraped against the floor.
Echo chose a seat near the edge, not hiding, not center.
A place to observe.
Requiem took a seat diagonally across from her.
Their eyes met for a fraction of a second.
No recognition.
Just awareness.
Then the screens went dark.
The voice spoke one last time, softer now.
"Rest while you can."
A countdown appeared again, but this time, it stopped before reaching zero.
00:01
Frozen.
Suspended.
Breath held across the room.
Echo's fingers finally opened the envelope in her lap.
Inside, words were printed in black:
KILL OR BE KILLED.
She didn't know why her throat tightened.
She only knew one thing,
Whatever this game was,
it had already begun watching her.
And it was waiting.
The Game is Starting…
There was a sudden gas leak in the hall where they were all gathered, causing them to fall asleep. Those who held their breath passed out slower.
30 mins later, the hall was silent.
Bodies are wrapped, loaded and shipped to one of the private islands owned by the mafia king.
Cold air. Sound of the ocean and armed guards everywhere.
The contestants were being taken to a massive arena that looked like a ruined city. Towers leaned like skeletons. Rusted cars lay overturned. Fires burned in barrels.
They had been scattered.
Deliberately.
One by one, the contestants woke up.
When the last groan faded, hidden speakers crackled to life.
"WELCOME TO THE FIRST ROUND OF THE MAFIA GAME." The voice was calm, cold and amused.
"This game is called THE BLOOD MARK."
A pause
"The rules are simple; you must kill at least one person with a blood-marked token. Failure to bring back a token before the given time results in execution," the voice added.
A digital clock ignited above the ruins.
01:00:00
One hour.
There were about 100 contestants in the game but only a few applied because they desired to work for the king, while the rest were kidnapped in order to fill the gaps needed to complete the game.
Some trembled.
Some whispered prayers.
Some smiled like they had been waiting for this.
Not all of them were here by choice.
Echo stayed still, tucked between the shadow of a collapsed wall and a rusted vehicle. She wasn't alone.
A man stood a few steps away.
He looked normal. Too normal.
His codename was drawn on the band around his wrist.
Ash.
His hands shook when he noticed Echo watching him, his grip tightened around the knife he held.
"I don't want to do this," he said with a trembling voice. "I swear I don't."
Echo didn't answer. She was already looking around counting exits.
"I was kidnapped," Ash continued, panic cracking his voice. "I didn't sign up for this. I don't want to kill anyone."
The timer ticked louder.
00:52:18
"But they'll kill me if I don't," he whispered.
Then he rushed her.
Echo moved by instinct.
She ran, not away, but sideways leading him into a narrow alley where the ground dipped sharply. Water pooled there, slick with oil. The air smelled like rusted metal.
Ash lunged towards her with force.
His foot slipped.
He crashed into a stack of unstable scaffolding rusted beams and loose chains holding a massive concrete slab upright like a failed barricade.
Echo shouted, "Stop!"
Too late.
Ash grabbed for balance but the chain snapped.
The slab fell.
It crushed him instantly.
No scream. No struggle.
Just a sickening thud.
Echo stood frozen, breath ripping through her chest.
She hadn't touched him.
But when she looked down, she saw it.
The blood-marked token, snapped loose from his wrist, now stained red from the blood pool spreading beneath him.
Her hands were shaking as she picked it up.
She acquired the blood-marked token.
She swallowed hard.
Around her, chaos bloomed.
Gunshots echoed in the distance. Screams cut short. Somewhere, someone laughed. It was a nightmare.
She moved.
As she navigated the ruins, she noticed other faces she hadn't seen before.
A tall girl with sharp eyes and braided hair, moving like a blade through crowds. Trying to stay alive until the countdown ends.
She had already acquired one token as she was a skilled fighter.
Codename: Nyx.
A short girl with trembling hands but fierce focus, hiding behind broken walls and watching everything. She was so scared. She didn't know how to fight and had no battle experience, she was hiding behind walls from being noticed and attacked.
She hadn't acquired any token and this made her tremble.
Codename: Viper.
And a man who didn't kill, who disarmed, distracted, and vanished before blood could spill. Found two players dead while fighting each other. Their blood mark was still on them.
He acquired it and owns 2 tokens.
Codename: Ghost.
They didn't speak.
Not yet.
But they noticed one another. They feared that the other would kill for their token so they circled around.
Looking at each other.
Nyx moved first not attacking, just shifting her weight, blade loose at her side, eyes sharp and calculating. She had already killed someone on her own. It showed in the way she breathed. Controlled. Ready.
Echo hadn't moved much either. But there was something steady about her that made the others hesitate without knowing why.
Viper stayed close to the wall, shoulders hunched, fingers white around nothing at all. Her eyes flicked between Nyx and Ghost like a trapped scared animal.
Ghost stood between them, empty hands raised just enough to be noticed. Calm. Too calm for this place.
"Let's not do this," he said quietly. "Not here."
Nyx's gaze flicked to Echo for a brief second. "You're too calm," she said. "Both of you."
Echo met her eyes. "Panicking gets you killed, so why don't you also calm down."
Viper swallowed. I didn't kill anyone. I couldn't." Her voice cracked. "I'm just trying to last until the timer ends."
The words came out broken.
Silence stretched.
The timer echoed overhead.
Nyx didn't move, but her grip tightened.
Ghost exhaled slowly, then reached into his pocket. Two blood-marked tokens rested in his palm, stained dark and sticky with blood.
Viper stiffened, fear flooding her face.
"If you're going to take mine" she startled.
"I'm not," Ghost said.
He stepped past Echo and gently pressed one token into Viper's shaking hand.
Viper gasped. "Why?"
Echo spoke before Ghost could answer. "Because you'll die otherwise."
Ghost looked at viper, "She's right."
Nyx scoffed. "You're insane."
"Maybe," Ghost replied. "But I still have one."
Viper clutched the token like it was oxygen. Tears escaped her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.
Echo rested a hand briefly on Viper's arm, not comfort, just grounding. "Hide until extraction," she murmured. "Don't run unless you have to. Got it?"
Viper nodded frantically.
Nyx slid her blade back just enough to signal restraint. "This doesn't make us friends."
The countdown grew louder.