Chapter 3- Run, Zamora
760 Words
PREDATOR HAS DETECTED PLAYER MOVEMENT.
The creature let out an ear-piercing scream. If anything, it sounded excited, which was somehow the worst part.
The entire prison shook as it launched itself upward, slamming into the grated floors below.
"MOVE!" Kate yelled, grabbing Zamora's arm.
The corridor erupted into chaos. Prisoners shoved and trampled each other toward the stairwells.
Others climbed broken ladders bolted to the walls.
A few simply stood there, unable to process any of it, which Zamora privately considered the worst option on the table.
An enormous arm burst through the floor grate. A sobbing prisoner screamed as clawed fingers closed around his leg. He didn't even get a chance to react before he was yanked down.
CRUNCH.
Blood splattered upward through the grate.
PLAYER GUEST773 HAS BEEN ELIMINATED — GAME OVER.
"Oh my god oh my god oh my god—"
"STOP PUSHING!"
"IT'S COMING UP!"
The lights flickered wildly, and for a split second Zamora saw it properly, long black limbs crawling across the walls, its body folding in directions bodies weren't supposed to fold, bones snapping and resetting beneath skin stretched too thin, and somehow still fast. Then the dark swallowed it again.
Several prisoners screamed. "What WAS THAT?!"
Nobody answered. Nobody wanted to be the one who knew.
She ran beside Kate as the crowd surged upward.
Then another announcement rang out.
WELCOME, NEW PLAYERS.
The corridor went quiet. Even the screaming dropped a register.
New players?
She nearly stumbled. "What?"
Kate looked just as lost. "New players?"
Then, from below, fresh voices. Terrified. Confused.
"WHERE AM I?!"
"LET ME OUT!"
"HOW DID I GET HERE?!"
The exact same words they'd all been screaming an hour ago.
A chill moved through the crowd as the realization landed, one person at a time: the prison wasn't emptying. It was refilling.
CURRENT ACTIVE PLAYERS: 1,842
CURRENT ELIMINATIONS: 317
CURRENT NEW ARRIVALS: 317
Nobody spoke. A man laughed, the kind of laugh that's really just panic looking for an exit.
"That's not funny."
Nobody disagreed.
The system continued, pleasant as ever.
WELCOME TO LEVEL ONE.
PLEASE TRY NOT TO DIE.
PROCESSING REPLACEMENTS…
A few prisoners stared upward, like the ceiling might explain itself.
"What kind of sick joke is this?"
The system declined to elaborate.
A metallic screech sounded behind them. Everyone turned.
The creature had stopped. Its glowing white eyes watched from the dark at the far end of the corridor. Waiting. Its head tilted, slow and curious, like it was deciding which of them looked best.
Then it smiled.
The crowd backed away as one. The smile widened, and the creature exploded forward.
"RUN!" the stranger shouted.
His voice cut through the panic, deep, sharp, the kind of voice that didn't ask twice. Everyone obeyed instantly, Zamora included, and she didn't have time to feel weird about that until later.
Behind them, the corridor erupted into screams. The creature dropped into the crowd, and blood sprayed across the walls.
PLAYER GUEST104 HAS BEEN ELIMINATED — GAME OVER.
PLAYER KALI HAS BEEN ELIMINATED — GAME OVER.
PLAYER VEX HAS BEEN ELIMINATED — GAME OVER.
The announcements came so fast they started overlapping, blurring into one long unbroken tone. The prison became a smear of running bodies, and she forced herself not to look back, every instinct screaming at her to keep moving and not one of them screaming louder than the rest.
Then—
Run, Zamora.
She froze.
The voice hadn't come from the crowd. Not Kate. Not the system.
It came from inside her own head.
Run.
The voice felt familiar in a way that made her chest hurt like she'd known it her whole life and simply forgotten, the way she'd apparently forgotten everything else. A headache split through her skull, and fragments flashed behind her eyes.
Fire. Blood. A collapsing skyline.
Then darkness. Gone again before she could hold onto any of it.
Ahead, a metal door burst open. A bleeding man stumbled into the corridor, clothes torn, one side of his face slick with blood, a jagged shard of sharpened metal clutched in his hand. His eyes went wide at the sight of hundreds of prisoners charging toward him.
"No…" he whispered.
Pure terror crossed his face.
Then he saw Zamora.
Not Kate. Not the stranger.
Her.
The colour drained out of him, and his whole body started to shake.
"You…"
The crowd surged past him, oblivious. The creature's screams tore through the prison behind them. The man stumbled forward, eyes locked on hers, and screamed.
"YOU NEED TO—"
- Writer
