Are You The Complete Player?

BAGEL OR BREADSTICK?

CHAPTER TWO: BAGEL OR BREADSTICK?

Carmella had a vivid dream about players jumping out of an aeroplane’s windows one by one, until there were only few of them left on the flight. The images she saw in the dream felt so real. She felt as if she was going to have a heart attack from watching people jump to their death.

Fortunately, screaming voices awoke her. She felt such a relief to realise it was only a dream. A horrifying dream at that, but at least it wasn’t real. Confusion hit her quickly upon realising she didn’t recognise where she was. She scanned her surroundings. It was clear she wasn’t on the flight anymore. But where was she?

She couldn’t understand how it was possible. She didn’t remember the flight ever landing. She couldn’t even remember falling asleep on the flight. She remembered a player dying of what seemed like a heart attack. She remembered two players jumping out of the aeroplane. She remembered the disembodied voice coming from the speakers. Did all those things really happen or were they all part of her disturbing dream?

She found herself on a bunk and noticed the sleeping guy beside her. He was the guy seated next to her on the flight. His name was Christopher something, if she remembered it correctly.

She tried to shake him awake. When he didn’t move, she had a horrifying thought that maybe he was dead. He suddenly grunted which startled her initially, before she realised maybe he was having a bad dream himself. She slapped him in the face hoping it would wake him.

“Ouch! What the hell!” he complained. Yup, it worked. He seemed very much awake now. “What did you do that for? Wait… did you change your shirt?”

Before Carmella could explain herself, she noticed he was now wearing a white shirt with a WIC logo printed on it. She vaguely remembered him wearing a Hollister T-shirt on the flight. “Did you?” she managed to ask him back. Shock registered on his face when he realised he was wearing a shirt identical to hers.

“How did this happen? Where the hell are we?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I just woke up to this. I don’t remember us arriving in Paris. Do you?” Carmella asked.

He eyed her suspiciously but didn’t say anything. The place they were in was like a players’ locker room, with hundreds of bunks lined up neatly next to each other. But there was no one else there except for the two of them.

“Where are the others?” he asked.

“I don’t know. But I heard screaming. Maybe we should go find out,” Carmella answered.

“This is so weird. The last thing I remember was being on a flight. You were the one sitting beside me, weren’t you, Carmella? Tell me I did not imagine it. Tell me I am not going nuts.”

She looked down to the ground, embarrassed that he addressed her by name, yet she couldn’t remember his.

“Yes, I was assigned a seat next to you,” she answered shortly. He got up from the bed and offered a hand to her to help her get out of bed, too. She felt her cheeks going pink. Brigitte was right. She needed to go out more. Even a guy being a gentleman made her feel awkward. He patiently waited for her to accept his hand. When she finally did, she prayed he wouldn’t notice her hand was ice cold with nerves.

“Where did you hear the screaming coming from?” he asked, but he was already heading to the door that was slightly ajar.

As soon as they got out of the room, they saw a hallway with everyone from the flight chattering nervously in groups. Some looked their way, but most just ignored them.

“Krys!” an Estonian player, Aimilie Tamm greeted him.

“Aimilie,” he said, nodding in acknowledgment. “What the hell is going on? Where are we?”

“Beats me,” Aimilie said, shrugging. She examined Carmella’s face carefully, trying to recall if she knew her from somewhere, but she decided the girl was unfamiliar to her. “How are you allowed to bring a girlfriend while the rest of us had to travel alone?”

Krystupas and Carmella exchanged glances.

“What do you mean? Carmella? She’s not my girlfriend. She’s playing in the tournament… right?” Krystupas asked Carmella. Before Carmella could answer, another player, Estere Kavace, interrupted the conversation.

“The guys have been trying every method in the book to break the steel gate, but it won’t budge. Some sicko trapped us all in here,” Estere said, worry written all over her face.

“What is this place?” Krystupas asked.

“No one knows. If we are in Paris, we might be somewhere underground. There is no signal in this place at all,” Estere answered.

“This is so sick,” Aimilie said. “Who would intercept our flight and take over to trap us all in here? Whatever this WIC is, they are evil. What the hell do they want to do with us?”

They joined the others to find out what was going on. But so far, no one could provide any helpful information. Miroslav, with the help of Marek and Mira, took it upon himself to temporarily act as the leader in the group. But he wasn’t doing well with leadership. Everyone wanted answers and he could barely keep the peace. Players threw accusations against one another, obviously frustrated with their situation.

“How are we going to prepare for the tournament trapped in here?” said Galyna Bondar, Artem’s wife. “I need to do my cardio exercises. Does anyone even know what time of the day is it now? This place gives me the creeps.”

The place was huge but it looked like it came straight out of a Harry Potter novel, or maybe a wicked dragon’s lair, as some theorised. There was an enormous hallway and a main steel gate about twenty feet tall. There was a spacious room containing about a hundreds beds with white sheets and white pillows. But there was no food anywhere, nor a gym or a tennis court.

“I have a really bad feeling about this,” Artem said in agreement.

“What if we are all really dead and this is like hell or something?” Olga Smirnova asked. “You have to admit, it is possible. No one among you remembers us ever landing, right?”

Akira Tanaka couldn’t help but agree. His friend Zhizhen Chang died on flight and he couldn’t even do anything about it. He felt for Zhizhen’s family and loved ones. He wondered where his friend’s body was now and if it would ever be found.

He glanced at Krystupas Pavlis and the girl standing beside him. Was she a tennis player? She didn’t really look familiar to him.

“Are you suspecting the girl to be a mole, too, Tanaka? Because I also don’t recognise her by the face,” his friend, Marco Torres, said. Akira noticed he was smoking a cigarette.

“Maybe a qualifier or something. I’ll ask Krys later,” Akira replied. “Did anyone find our stuff? Where did you get the cigarette?”

“I always carry one in my pocket, my friend,” Marco winked. “I know, right? Role model of the year.”

Everyone seemed to have woken up in the place, wearing a white T-shirt with a WIC logo, and their luggage nowhere to be found.

Carmella walked around leaving Krystupas talking to his friends. She felt sick being questioned on the spot as if she was someone shady. She wasn’t a part of the tennis tournament, but would anyone believe her if she told them why she was on that flight?

One thing was for sure, she needed to find the toilet quick. She felt a knot on her stomach and she felt like throwing up any minute now.

She noticed a guy smoking a cigarette looking intently at her. Was he also suspicious of her?

“WELCOME TO OUR HUMBLE ABODE, EVERYONE!” A voice suddenly boomed that got everyone’s attention.

“I know you have a lot of questions. But I suggest all of you to be patient. I am only going to state every instruction once, so you all need to listen very, very carefully. This tournament is going to be the tournament of your life…”

Everyone held their breath and listened attentively. It was as if they could feel their lives hanging in the balance.

“Every player wins points from winning games and extra points, but only eight players with the highest accumulated points make it to the final round. If a player loses in a game, they will most likely be eliminated…”

There was a shudder from the players upon hearing the word ‘eliminated’. They seemed to have picked up what it really meant. A player that loses in a game would die.

“But there isn’t any tennis court anywhere! How are we going to play our matches?” an impatient Charlotte Adams asked.

“This tournament is bigger than tennis. It will test you physically, emotionally, and mentally. So, what do you think, dear players? Do you have what it takes to win? Ask yourself these questions: Are you the complete player? Are you the deserving winner? Don’t forget: a player that refuses to participate in any game will automatically be eliminated.”

“Really? How about you just open the gate and let us leave now?” Kathy Murray said. “I’ve had enough of this bullshit. If you think you can scare us – ”

But she was unable to finish her sentence anymore. An explosion reverberated all over the place and her head was blown off out of nowhere. Adam Evans, Kathy’s boyfriend, was so shocked to move. Kathy was dead, just like that, for refusing to play a game.

“Anyone else wanting to quit?” the robotic voice asked, matter-of-factly.

There was no answer from everyone. Some players started crying silent tears. What happened to Kathy Murray was pure evil.

“You get one meal a day, and a three-minute bathroom break once a day,” the voice continued.

“How about shower time?” Charlotte asked.

The voice didn’t answer. Carmella ran as far away from everyone as she could. She felt she was going to collapse any minute and she didn’t want to cause a scene.

“Carmella, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What do you think you’re doing? Don’t call any attention to yourself,” she heard a familiar voice talking behind her. Upon looking, she was right. It was Krys.

She stopped running upon realising he was right. “I don’t know who you are and why you’re here. But I don’t think you are involved in this. I can’t say the same for everyone, though. Just blend in, and you’ll be safe,” Krys continued.

“What would we get out of it if we win this stupid thing?” Astro Lindahl, dubbed as tennis bad boy, asked the disembodied voice.

“Well, for starters, you will be alive and free,” the voice replied. “And as your grand prize, you just have to make one wish and we guarantee you, it shall be granted. Now without further ado, let’s begin. We have a warm-up game in which some of you can win points.”

“Do you think it’s Satan talking?” Krystupas asked Carmella, who finally settled in standing beside him. Carmella couldn’t tell whether he just had a weird sense of humour or if he was serious about the question.

“Maybe the grim reaper, athletes’ version,” Carmella quipped. He gave her a quick smile. Maybe she was right, he was trying to cr*ack a joke.

“ANNIKA GRABHER OF GERMANY, THIS QUESTION IS FOR YOU,” the voice said animatedly as if making an announcement about someone winning a million dollar prize money.

Annika Grabher clutched her fists nervously. There was no way she was going to answer whatever question it was. She could feel her death coming very soon.

“I’d like to remind everyone, you can steal the point from Annika. All you have to do is shout STEAL before she can give the correct answer within 60 seconds. But remember, if you can’t give the correct answer after choosing to steal, you will be eliminated. Now, for 100 big points, Annika Grabher, answer this question…”

“A container made of flexible material, used for carrying things. What is this? Your timer starts now…”

Annika could hear her heart pounding so hard that the question barely registered in her brain. She was going to die, as horribly as Kathy Murray did. Her fingers kept shaking as she stared at the giant timer. The time was ticking so fast. As fast as her heartbeat. She closed her eyes praying everything was just a dream and that she would wake up safely still on the flight.

“Annika, come on!” she heard Marek Cerny cheering her on. She had always admired him from afar, and now he would never know. She was going to die…

5, 4, 3, 2, 1…

Annika closed her eyes as tears trickled down her face. Her image was displayed on a giant flat screen TV for everyone to see. Another explosion was heard and she dropped dead – brains blown off.

There was so much blood but nobody dared come near her.

“I’M SORRY, ANNIKA. YOU ARE ELIMINATED. CARMELLA CORTEZ OF USA, ANSWER THE QUESTION.”

Carmella was startled upon hearing her name. She didn’t even remember the question anymore. Her lips quivered as she felt everyone’s attention onto her now. What was the question, Carmella? Try to remember, she thought to herself. If she died, she wouldn’t be able to make her ultimate wish: to have Will back alive and healthy. But the clock was ticking and still, she couldn’t remember the question.

Will would forgive her if she failed, right? And her parents might mourn her death greatly, but at least they still have each other. It wouldn’t be so bad…

There were 5 seconds left on the giant timer.

“STEAL!” shouted Krystupas. “Is it a bag? A container used for carrying things? A bag?”

Carmella closed her eyes. Everyone was holding their breath as the timer went to zero.

“YOU GOT IT CORRECTLY, KRYSTUPAS PAVLIS OF LITHUANIA,” the voice cheered. A collective sigh of relief was heard all over the place. “WHAT A STEAL! 100 POINTS FOR YOU. WELL DONE!”

Carmella glanced at him to thank him for saving her life, but he wasn’t looking anywhere near her. Some players were giving him congratulatory high fives for earning points for himself.

“MIRA IVANOVA OF BELARUS, YOU’RE NEXT. FOR 100 POINTS, ANSWER THIS QUESTION. WHICH LETTER IN THE ENGLISH ALPHABET ALSO MEANS “THE” IN SPANISH?” the voice asked again.

“It’s L. El,” Mira answered instinctively.

“100 POINTS FOR YOU, MIRA. THAT WAS IMPRESSIVE!”

Some players shot Mira an impressed look. She was so cool under pressure. Mira breathed a sigh of relief. This wasn’t the tournament that she signed up for, but she would do everything in her power to come back to her little boy alive.

Suddenly, an old song started playing on the speakers.

“For a love that wouldn’t bloom…” the singer crooned.

“Oh jeez, what kind of music is that? We are definitely in hell,” a player from Serbia said. “Whoever is running this stupid game has weird taste.”

“For the hearts that never played in tune,” the music continued playing. It was an old-sounding ballad.

“NEXT QUESTION IS FOR YOU. CHARLOTTE ADAMS OF CANADA,” the voice was suddenly back on the speakers.

“FOR 100 POINTS, LISTEN TO THE SONG CAREFULLY AND IDENTIFY THE ARTIST OF THE SONG. YOUR TIMER STARTS NOW!”

“What? Are you serious? It’s a song from, like the 1950’s, how would I know that?” Charlotte asked, annoyed.

“Like a lovely melody that everyone can sing. Take away the words that rhyme, it doesn’t mean a thing…” the song went on.

“Uh, hello, guys? I don’t want to die. Help!” Charlotte said. The clock was ticking and for the first time in her privileged life, she was truly scared.

“STEAL.”

Everyone was surprised when they saw who had spoken. It was Carmella Cortez, the girl no one seemed to know anything about. Was she even a professional tennis player?

“Bread, the artist who sang the song is called Bread,” Carmella said, panting hard from trying to enunciate every word carefully. She knew that song very well. It was her father’s favourite song. It was a song ‘Aubrey’ by Bread.

“WELL DONE, CARMELLA CORTEZ OF USA. YOU WON 100 POINTS!”

“More like, Carmella whatshername of Planet Venus,” Charlotte remarked sarcastically. “Who the hell even are you?”

“I think Barbie meant to say thank you for saving her life,” Marco Torres said to Carmella. Carmella’s face went red, embarrassed by all the attention.

“AND FOR OUR FINAL WARM UP QUESTION, THIS IS FOR YOU, ADAM EVANS OF UK. WE ALSO OFFER OUR HEARTFELT CONDOLENCES FOR YOUR GIRLFRIEND KATHY MURRAY’S TRAGIC DEMISE.”

“Go to hell!” Adam spat. He had been crying since witnessing Kathy’s horrible death firsthand and whoever was controlling the game seemed to find everything so amusing.

“FOR 100 POINTS, THIS IS YOUR QUESTION: IT IS A THIN PIECE OF WOOD FROM A TREE. THIS WORD CAN ALSO BE USED AS A VERB. WHAT IS IT, ADAM?

Adam remained quiet as the time rolled on. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to join Kathy in death instead of staying in this hell.

“It’s stick, I think,” Krystupas whispered. He was back beside Carmella. She thought of that same answer, too, but wasn’t sure.

“But don’t answer it. I’m not sure it is correct. It’s better to be safe than – ” Krystupas began, but Carmella wasn’t listening anymore. Her gut was telling her stick was the correct answer. She also couldn’t let Adam Evans die, after what had just happened to his girlfriend.

“STEAL,” she blurted out loud. Everyone glanced at her in surprise. “It’s stick. The answer is stick.”

It felt like the longest five seconds of her life as she waited for the verdict.

“ANOTHER 100 POINTS FOR YOU, CARMELLA CORTEZ OF USA. WOW! WE HAVE A FRONTRUNNER SO FAR, FOLKS!”

She could feel some players glaring at her, but she ignored them. She was just relieved to be alive and that she didn’t have to witness another player dying brutally.

“Someone is definitely on a roll,” Astro teased.

“That was…” Krystupas said, pausing to think of the appropriate word to say.

“Stupid?” Carmella finished for him.

“Brave,” he said at the same time.

“NOW FOR THE FIRST OFFICIAL GAME. BRACE YOURSELVES, EVERYONE. GO TO THE KITCHEN TABLE NOW. BAGELS AND BREADSTICKS ARE PROVIDED FOR YOU. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS PICK ONE EACH.”

Everyone was confused with the instruction, and started asking one another about the bizarre instruction, but no one knew for sure what the challenge was about. Were some of the foods provided laced with poison? No one knew for sure. But the clock was ticking. They had to make a choice.

“Maybe this is a game of chance. Maybe some of these bagels and breadsticks are deadly,” Aimilie said, as she offered breadsticks for Estere and Krystupas. Carmella didn’t know which to pick. She watched quietly as everyone started picking their food of choice. She picked a bagel absentmindedly.

As the timer ticked, Krystupas finally rejoined her. “Get yourself a breadstick instead,” he said with urgency, upon noticing she had chosen a bagel.

“What do you mean?” Carmella asked, horrified by the tone in his voice. Without answering, Krystupas grabbed the bagel she was holding and handed her the breadstick he had in his hand.

She watched in confusion as Krystupas put back the bagel on the table and get a breadstick for himself as the timer buzzed to zero.

Within the next few minutes, a handful of players started dropping to the ground one by one, brains blown off, like the other players eliminated before them.

“WELL DONE, PLAYERS. THOSE OF YOU WHO CHOSE A BREADSTICK OVER A BAGEL, YOU CHOSE WISELY,” the voice boomed, as the last player holding a bagel dropped to the ground, dead.

“How – how did you know which to pick?” Carmella asked Krystupas, still stunned by the turn of events.

“The warm up questions. Bag, El, Bread, Stick. Bagel, breadstick. These are tennis slang terms for 1 and 0. Breadstick means one, bagel means zero. I just figured breadstick has an advantage because you have one point compared to a bagel.”

“Thank you… for saving my life,” Carmella said, impressed by how Krystupas’ brain works. If Will were alive, they would have gotten along well.

“I hope that means I earned your trust now. Who are you and why were you on the flight with us?” Krystupas asked.

“I’ll tell you everything, but only if you promise you’ll help me with tennis-related clues in this… tournament,” she answered softly.

“It’s an honour to be your ally,” Krystupas said, giving her a warm smile. She returned it. If she was going to survive in this hell, she needed an alliance with someone like Krystupas Pavlis.