Chapter 3
1237 Words
“What do we do now... Are we going to be stuck here forever?”
“Maybe... cough, cough maybe we should split up,” the frail girl suggested between wheezing breaths.
“We each go in a different direction. If even one of us makes it out, they can contact the outside world and send help for the rest.”
The others frowned at her suggestion, heads shaking one after another.
Splitting up in a place like this was far too dangerous.
No one wanted to be alone.
Sticking together felt like the only way to stay alive.
The sickly girl seemed to sense their hesitation. She bit her lip, then offered a compromise:
“We don’t have to go off alone. We can divide into small groups. That way, if we run into the cat, we might stand a chance.”
“There are ten of us. If we divide into three groups, each group will still have at least three people.”
“That way, we increase our odds of survival and keep enough numbers to defend ourselves.”
Her logic made sense.
Eyes lit up around the group. It was a plan that balanced safety and strategy—no one had to be alone, and there was still hope for escape.
Then someone asked, hesitantly, “So… how do we split the groups?”
The question killed the mood instantly.
The group fell into silence again.
Ten people, men and women, all with varying levels of strength.
Everyone knew that if the groups were unbalanced, some would be left more vulnerable than others.
And then there was Raine.
The outlier.
No one wanted to end up in a group with her.
In a place where survival was uncertain, no one wanted to take the risk.
The tension thickened.
After a long, awkward pause, someone finally suggested the only fair solution:
Rock-paper-scissors.
No more debating.
They played quickly and efficiently.
No time to waste.
When the results came in, the tattooed man’s face darkened instantly.
He had ended up in the same group as Raine.
His displeasure was written all over his face.
He shot Raine a look of open disgust.
“Ugh, just my damn luck,” he muttered under his breath.
But he didn’t argue.
The groups had been drawn fairly. He had no excuse.
Still, he seethed with resentment as he stomped off, leading his group forward.
Their team had three members: the tattooed man, Raine, and a woman.
They hadn’t gone far when the man began barking orders, his voice sharp with irritation.
“You! Keep your damn mouth shut and do as you’re told. Or I’ll throw you out of the group.”
He glared at Raine, spitting to the side with exaggerated disgust.
“Freakin’ cursed…”
His voice was loud on purpose—meant for her to hear.
Raine kept her eyes down, pretending not to notice.
The man was already on edge; there was no point provoking him further.
But even her silence annoyed him.
He wasn’t done with her yet.
He narrowed his eyes, paused for a beat, then pointed at her.
“You. Take the lead.”
Raine stiffened.
In a place like this, going first meant more danger.
Whoever walked ahead was the most likely to trigger a trap—or run into something deadly.
Earlier, the tattooed man had walked in front, only because all the other teams had their strongest take the lead.
He didn’t want to look like a coward.
But now that the other teams were gone and out of sight, his true colors showed.
His eyes bored into Raine, a silent threat behind them.
Raine didn’t argue.
It was normal to take turns leading. She had no reason to refuse.
She nodded calmly and stepped to the front, slipping her hand into her pocket.
Inside, her fingers closed around the sharp stone she’d picked up earlier.
She gripped it tightly. Just in case.
Neither of the other two noticed her movements.
The man was already busy chatting with the third member of their group.
“What’s your player number?” he asked, striding up beside the woman.
She looked startled by the sudden question but answered truthfully:
“Player Two.”
He nodded.
“Alright. You’re on rearguard duty.”
The woman’s eyes widened in disbelief.
She hadn’t expected the man to be this shameless.
The front and rear positions were equally dangerous.
She had no intention of accepting.
“I… um…”
She faltered, trying to come up with an excuse.
But the man cut her off, scowling.
“What do you mean ‘um’? I’ve been leading this whole time. You can’t take the rear for a bit?”
He shoved her backward.
“Just stay back there. Don’t try anything funny.”
Without another glance at her, he took the safest spot—right in the middle of the formation.
The woman clenched her fists, furious.
But she had no choice.
She fell into line at the back, eyes locked on the man’s back like she wanted to drive a knife into it.
The man, oblivious to the hatred aimed his way, simply raised his chin.
“The formation’s good. Let’s move.”
Raine said nothing.
She simply tightened her grip on the rock and scanned the woods ahead.
No one spoke after that.
Only the sounds of their own breathing and the eerie calls of birds and insects filled the air.
The oppressive atmosphere of the game loomed large once more.
But the longer they walked, the more troubled Raine became.
Something wasn’t right.
There was something wrong with this forest.
What was it?
...
They walked until the sun began to dip behind the trees, and the forest grew darker with each step.
And then—Raine stopped dead in her tracks.
The man behind her halted as well, immediately looking around in alarm.
“What is it?”
Player Two hurried closer, shrinking toward the center of the group with wide, fearful eyes.
Raine’s expression was strange—uneasy, thoughtful.
“Can you hear the birds and bugs?” she asked quietly.
“The hell kind of question is that?” the man snapped. “We’re in the woods! Of course there’s noise!”
But Raine ignored him, her voice tightening.
“Then have you seen any animals?”
The question made them both freeze.
They thought back.
No birds. No squirrels. Not even a single bug on the bark of a tree.
Nothing.
They’d heard plenty of sounds—but not once had they actually seen anything.
And as if the game itself had heard Raine’s words, the forest reacted.
Everything went silent.
The chirping of insects. The calling of birds.
Gone.
Like someone had hit mute on a soundtrack.
The stillness was deafening.
And then they saw it—the sky above them looked… fake. Like a badly rendered texture with colors too bright, too flat.
The trees were even worse.
Every trunk and branch seemed identical, copied and pasted like low-effort assets in a cheap game.
Some even clipped into one another—merged awkwardly like corrupted data.
The illusion was breaking.
It felt as though the game had detected a bug… and decided to stop pretending.
The three of them stood frozen, every hair on their bodies standing on end.
And then—
something worse happened.
- Writer
