The Survival Games

Chapter four- The Time

The sun shined above up for another hour—or whatever passed for it in this dome—hung high in the still sky when we made our move.

We didn't speak. I knew the right time is going to arrive soon.

#5 and I exchanged a glance. Her hands were shaking. Mine too.

But we both moved from behind.

#22 was ahead, leaning against a tree, drinking from our water bottle. He didn't even see it coming.

#5 grabbed one of his arms. He growled and turned, furious.

I lunged on #22.

He pulled #5 hair and shoved her away, hard. She fell and rolled into the dirt with a gasp. He turned to me with a snarl.

I knew I couldn't overpower him physically. So I didn't try.

Instead, I grabbed the jagged rock I'd picked up back in the forest and I stabbed him on the eye.

Once. Twice.

He let out a horrible, animal sound, fists flailing. I ducked, stepped back. Blood gushed down his side.

He tried to come after me, but his legs tripped him.

He collapsed, face down.

We didn't wait. We both knew that if he were to chase up we could not escape. So both #5 and I grabbed anything in the area and hit the #22 hard as as we could.

We grabbed the food and water and ran—blindly, breathlessly—through the twisted trees. We didn't stop until our lungs gave out and our legs buckled. 

We collapsed against a boulder, gasping. My hands were slick with blood. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

I had never killed anyone before.

Then… the system crackled to life.

"Participant #17 — Role Update: CAT.Number of Eliminations: 3Status: Active."

My stomach dropped.

Three? But we only—

I looked at #5. She looked back, her face pale and drenched in sweat.

"The others we saw die... that must've counted," I muttered. "It's how the system assigns the role."

I looked down at the blood drying on my hands. "Killing a mouse makes you the cat."

But then... a chill ran down my spine.

"Why didn't it list #22?"

#5 blinked. "What?"

I looked around slowly, eyes darting through the trees. "It listed three players eliminated. But not him."

Her expression cracked. "No. He's dead. You stabbed him. I saw it."

"Then why wasn't he named?" I said. "Everyone else is. The system announced each one before. But not him."

Her hands clutched at her sides. "Stop it. Stop it. He's dead."

I stared at her. My voice was calm. Too calm. "Then why are you so scared?"

Silence.

Then I said, "Now that you know the rules... what do you want to do next?"

She didn't answer.

I smiled faintly. "The easiest way to win now is to kill me. I'm the nearest player. I'm not strong. And if you kill a me you can turn into a cat…"

After listening to me she calmly said. "Let's separate."

I blinked.

That was not the answer I was expecting.

My hand had been quietly reaching into my pocket to grab the sharp rock again, just in case.

She turned and walked away, her back straight, shoulders stiff.

I stared at her until she disappeared into the woods.

Then I turned and walked the other way.

But fate doesn't let things go that easily.

Less than an hour later, I stumbled upon a new group.

Two players.

A tall, wide-chested man with dark hair and cold eyes—#13—and a girl with braided hair and a delicate build, marked as #11. They were standing near a dried-up stream, checking their map interface.

They looked up, alarmed the moment they saw me.

#13's eyes narrowed when he spotted the dried blood crusted along my arms and shirt.

"You're a killer," he said. "I'm going to kill you."

He charged.

I ran.

He was fast—much faster than I expected—but I was smarter. I ducked through twisted roots, leapt over collapsed branches, and finally, after a few laps around a clearing, managed to use a thick vine to trip him.

He crashed to the ground.

Before he could rise, I tied his wrists with more vines and shoved him against a rock. He thrashed, cursed, but couldn't break free.

I fell to my knees, panting.

That's when I saw her.

A flicker of movement near the tree line. Fabric, familiar.

It's #5.

"Come out," I said loudly.

She stepped out, laughing awkwardly, brushing twigs from her hair. "Do you… need help?"

I didn't answer.

I knew what had happened.

She had followed me. If #13 had gotten the upper hand, she would've finished me off.

#13 was still writhing and curse at #5 and I when I turned back to him. We were protecting ourselves. If we were killers, why didn't we kill you when we had the chance?"

He paused.

Silence ticked by.

Eventually, he relaxed slightly.

#11 stepped forward slowly. Her eyes were unreadable. "Then how do you explain the fact you have the role of Cat?"

She pointed at me. "And the large amounts of dried blood on you?"

#13 turned to me, warily. His gaze shifted between me and #5.

#5 panicked. "It was a mistake! We were just defending ourselves! We—we had no choice!"

She kept talking. Too much. Too fast. Trying too hard. The more she tried to proof herself that more she seemed to be making excuses.

I watched her dig her slowly falling into #11's trap.

Instead of explaining, she should've been doubting #13. She should've turned it around and questioned #11.

I stepped in.

"What about you?" I said to #11. "Why are you so clean? Why are you not stained in blood, dirt, or even sweat? Looks to me like you're manipulating him so he can make your first kill for you… so you can get the Cat role next."

Her eyes widened. Just for a second.

But it was enough.

#13 slowly looked over at her.

"Is that true?" he asked, his voice suddenly flat.

#11's eyes flickered. Her lips trembled—but then her posture changed. She adjusted her stance, cool and sharp again.

She squeaked something in her hand. A small, button-like object embedded into her hand.

I narrowed my eyes and frowned.

She had panicked. Then recovered too fast.

What calmed her?

What secret did she carry?

It didn't matter now.

#13's face hardened.

"I'm done with you," he said to her. "I'll go with them."

#11 opened her mouth to argue, but closed it.

She knew that being alone in this game was a death sentence.

So she followed us—silently, a few steps behind. But we could all feel the tension coiled around her like a wire.

She was dangerous. Not just because she had something hidden. But because I wasn't sure what she had.

 To be continued....