JINX

EPISODE 31 [pt.2]

"Réveillez-Vous, enculés! J'espère que vous avez suffisamment dormi car ce soir est la nuit pour utiliser vos énergies!" [Wake up, motherf*ckers!  I hope you had enough sleep because tonight is the night to use your energies! ] All of their daydreams were like a balloon in collision with a needle as it pops them back to reality.

"Wha— what's happening? What's that?" Blake asks as his eyes aren't wide open, as well as his body is half asleep.

"I don't know either, dude, so doesn't ask," Chris mutters in disappointment that he didn't even get to finish his dreams. He's also half asleep, but as the man from the outside continues to hit the thick stick into the metal, they start to realize what is happening.

"Réveillez-vous, réveillez-vous, réveillez les filles et les gars! Ou voulez-vous que je me mette à l'intérieur et que je commence à vous frapper jusqu'à ce que vous réalisiez que vous ne RÊVEZ plus, hein? Ça a l'air amusant, hmm?" [Wake up, wale up, wake up girls and lads! Or do you want me to get myself inside and start hitting you all until you realize that you're NOT DREAMING anymore, huh? Sounds fun, hmm?] He asks in his thick accent, a bit annoyed that they weren't moving any faster. Miguel and Kitty then made their move as they were the ones who decided to shake the others to be awake already.

"Guys, wake up already if you don't want that sh*t he's holding, end up in swinging behind your head. You got me?" Miguel asks as, one by one, they all wake up and force themselves to stand up still in one line. When everyone's on their feet, they watch the man holding a big and thick wood unlock the door for them. As the door swings open, Miguel gulps just by seeing the evil grin he's got on his lips, even if the darkness almost covers his whole face.

"Nous sommes sur le point de jouer à un autre jeu, mes amis. . . Et je suppose que je n'ai pas dormi assez parce que si vous le faites, vous manquerez probablement le sentiment d'être en vie. . ." [We're about to play another game, my friends. . . And I guess you didn't have enough sleep because if you do, then you'll probably miss the feeling of being alive. . .]  As he says that, he turns to his shoulder, about to give the signal when Melissa speaks up.

"Attendre. . . Que veux-tu dire—" [Wait. . . What do you mean—]  but before she could even finish her sentence, the man nods his head, treating Melissa like a part of the win.

"Enveloppez leurs têtes avec le tissu maintenant." [Wrap their heads with the cloth now.]

The rest are now curious about what is about to happen.

"Melissa? Melissa, what the f*ck is going on!?" Kyle asks as the men with the same number as theirs come fast approaching with the same black bags used to cover their heads before.

"Someone's going to die tonight. . ." Melissa mumbles to herself as she stares in one direction, her head only thinking of that thought.

"Someone's what, miss? I can't f*cking hear you." Ion asks with a hint of frustration in his voice. But rather than entertaining his question, Melissa only mumbles to herself that makes Ion groan as he approaches Melissa, and pushes her from her left shoulder as if mocking her.

"Hey, what the f*ck are you mumbling—"

"Back off, newbie!" Chris immediately steps forward as he shields Melissa, who is starting to freak out again. But before the situation gets heated, those men holding bags took the opportunity to have them captive. They start to freak out as the three new guests try their best to break free while the others are still as if it's already part of their routine to experience the same situation. Chris shakes his head as the only noise surrounding them is their frustration and dedication to escape. Suddenly, a heavy material's swinging sound comes in contact with Ion, making him scream in pain.

"Aaahhhh! Son of a b*tch!" He yelps as the man holding him keeps him standing on both feet. And without any reply, the man gives them the signal as they start walking. When Miguel felt someone beside him who is mumbling in pain, he can already tell who it is.

"Want some advice, kid? That's the number one rule: Don't even try to fight it. It will only hurt your pride more." He says before turning his attention ahead, receiving no reply from the man beside him.

•••

"Miguel!" Carlo exclaims as he sits up from lying on the car seat.

"Mister Carlo, are you alright?" He almost flinches when he hears Ash talks behind him, who is also sleeping by the back seat.

"I'm, I'm fine. . . Don't worry about me." Be says as he massages the bridge of his nose, trying just to reduce the anxiety he's been feeling ever since.

"Well, you don't sound okay to me, mister Carlo. . . I know when a person is okay or trying to say okay. And I know you're behind from being okay." She says as she moves into the passenger seat. Carlo stares at her as he waits for her next move.

"Do you want to talk about your nightmare?"

"And why do you want to know about my dream?" Carlo asks as he averts his eyes away from her, now focusing on massaging the bridge of his nose again. Ash then leans her back on the chair, staring ahead.

"Because your nightmare sounded like you shouldn't keep it because your nightmare needs to be heard."

As soon as those words escape into Ash's mouth, it quickly caught Carlo's gaze that it made him stop and turn to her again. This time, as their eyes meet, he can see sincerity, not a hint of provoking or challenging him to spill it out. Carlo then rests his back as he tries to recall his nightmare.

"Well, I dream about Miguel that he. . . Erm— Miguel's with few more kids who are already dead and that, they are hunged up in the metal pipe. . . All eyes were already violet-ish as veins are already visible. All skin is as pale as snow white, all eyes are open, and mouth agape. It's too much to see in a dream, but I know it means something. . ." he explains as Ash notices how his hands tremble.

"Something like what, mister Carlo?" Ash asks as she wishes for more details. Carlo then sighs before looking at his wristwatch.

"Something like someone's going to die. . . I don't know for sure, but I have a big feeling that something bad is going to happen tonight because. . . Because that nightmare feels so real and it's bad. . . It's just so bad." Carlo explains before washing his face with his dry palms.

•••

Ion takes the advice into consideration as he remained quiet for the rest of their walk. They continue walking as they feel themselves stopping at a particular spot. But then, they still couldn't see anything, now that the room they're standing in has no light at all.

"Oh my goodness. . . Do you think we'll be having the same mission as the last time? Because it d*mn gives me the chills to be blind. . . And I don't love the feeling." Blake says as he still tries to see anything but failed.

"Then let's just wish we don't. . . Maybe pastor Roman and that Ruther guy aren't here yet, that's why. We all know that overthinking won't help us any good, especially in this situation that we are dealing with at the moment." Miguel says, trying to calm his friends, even though he's confident that he's having the same thought about the closed lights.

Suddenly, they hear someone yelling in pain as he continues to protest. They listen to them pull the chosen person away that makes Miguel and his friends start to panic, now that they couldn't hide the fear anymore.

"Who the heck is that?"

"Guys, what is happening?"

"What the f*ck is this trick again!?"

All of them start to scream their concerns, but the noise only bounces back and forth, as if noise doesn't have an escape to the four corners of the area.

"Sh*t! Now I'm getting more and more anxious about this f*cking—"

"Good evening, my little lambs."

They all stop almost in an instant after hearing the most irritating voice they've been dealing with for the past few days.

Nobody responds as they were aware of what's going to happen if they dare to interrupt. Pastor Roman then clears his throat before tucking a small strand of his hair, covering a small portion of his face.

"So, you must already know by then what you all are doing in here, am I right?" Pastor Roman asks as Ruther zip his shoulder bag. "And since I don't want to beat around the bush, how about we get down to business this instant. . . Well, are already?"

And then again, no one dared to answer, making Pastor Roman grin.

"Every game starts to a question, and you're all aware of this, right?" No response. "Are you all willing to surrender now? Or do we have to keep playing the hard side?" He asks, and yet, there's no reply from them.

"Hey, pastor Roman is asking you all a question! Do you want not to answer?" Ruther asks as his patience is running out. It made Blake scoffing before talking.

"Ay, yay, yay, mister Ruther. . . You still haven't realized your position when it comes to us, no?" He starts as he lifts his chin, predicting that Pastor Roman and Ruther are standing on a higher platform than theirs.

"And what is my role then, mister? Care to share with our new guest here? He asks, but when Blake is about to talk, Ruther decides to interrupt him immediately.

"You know what, mister? I don't care what my roles are when it comes to you and your group. . . Why? because you are all biased—"

"And your f*cking pastor don't?" This time, Miguel decided to join with the argument. Ruther throws his brows as Miguel felt that, even though he couldn't see his expression.

"What? Are you going to continue patronizing this psycho before you? Come on, Ruther, you're better than that." He continues as Ruther clenches his fist, feeling more worse.

"That's enough of the talks, shall we? Now, since no one responded, I guess you all agree not to. . .  So, let's play with the dark then, shall we?" He asks before signaling Ruther to hand him his black gloves. Sliding them fit on his hand, he then places both hands behind him and starts walking back and forth with poise and confidence.

"Tonight's game is all about trust. . . Well, the rules of this game is that, of course, no one is allowed to talk, or you can kiss goodbye to your tongue. . . Second is that, all you have to do is wait."

" I've chosen one of you to be the target, and whoever he doesn't touch and stick these sticky notepads on any body part of your rest, will, of course, have to die. . . And are you all ready to find out who's going to die now?"

"Then, f*ck you, Roman! You're corrupted! Your brain is tainted with a lot of things that you thought are still right! And clearly, you're too desperate even to devote yourself, and it's dragging you into the f*cking wrong way! This is not—"

"Two minutes, mister. . . You only have two minutes to live." Pastor Roman announces, making everyone panic more and more. But before they could even boycott, pastor Roman gives the signal as these men capture them by the hem of the plastic bag he's used and pulls them away from each other. Miguel and the others are screaming and fighting, but they're still continuously dragged away. When they stop at a particular spot, he feels a hook and a tube manipulatively attached to something behind the plastic bag that's covering his head.

"What the f—" and before he knows it, he's starting to suffocate.