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Take And Draw

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Blurb

No one announces the lottery.

No one advertises the prize.

And no one ever explains the costs.

Raka Aditya lives an ordinary life unremarkable, quiet, and carefully planned. He is a content creator, routines that keep him grounded, and a future he assumes will unfold slowly, one year at a time. Until people around him begin to die without reason.

Healthy people collapse in kitchens. Friends disappear overnight. Strangers lose decades of their lives in an instant. There are no patterns, no warnings, only the unbearable feeling that something invisible is taking time away… and giving it to someone else.

The Draw.

A cycle where time is transferred, not created.

A system that chooses one recipient and grants them years of life, taken evenly from others.

A game where no participant is allowed to speak its name.

At first, Raka is only an observer. Then a witness.

And finally, a Curator.

As a Curator, he can see the remaining lifespan of every human being, a number no one else is meant to know. But the rules are absolute: he cannot reveal the system, cannot reveal himself, and cannot interfere. Every violation is paid for in death.

With each cycle, Raka watches people lose time they never agreed to give. He watches winners live longer without knowing why. He watches families mourn deaths with no medical explanation. And slowly, he begins to understand the cruel truth of the system:

Luck does not save you.

Silence keeps it alive.

And every choice, whether made or not

still costs time.

Take And Draw is a dark, philosophical thriller about fate, consequence, and the quiet horror of a world where life can be taken without warning, and where the most dangerous role is not being a participant, but a witness who must never speak.

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Prolog
Sunlight filtered through the blinds of the Bennett family apartment, casting warm stripes across the slightly worn wooden floor. The smell of toasted bread and freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of potted plants on the windowsill. Outside, the city was already awake—cars rushing past, people walking to work, distant sirens echoing faintly. "Clara, breakfast is ready!" Maggie, Clara's mother, called warmly from the kitchen. "Thanks, Mom! I'm coming!" Clara replied, brushing back her hair and adjusting her school backpack on her shoulder. She walked to the dining table, where her older sister Emily was scrolling on her phone while tying her hair, and her younger brother Alex was eating breakfast while watching cartoons on his tablet. Maggie placed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Clara. "Don't forget your snack for school. I put your favorite granola bar in your bag." "Got it, Mom. Thanks," Clara said with a smile, spreading butter on her toast as she glanced at her family. Her father, Jonathan, sipped his coffee while leaning against the kitchen counter. "Are you all ready to go?" he asked, observing Emily tying her hair and Alex spilling a little cereal. "Almost," Emily muttered without looking up. Alex only shrugged, eyes glued to the tablet. Clara laughed softly. "Don't worry, Mom, Dad. I'm ready." She sipped her coffee and looked out the window. The city below was alive: people walking quickly, buses rumbling past, a dog walker rounding a corner. Everything seemed ordinary, normal. Their small orange cat, Marmalade, jumped onto Clara's lap. She giggled, stroking its fur. "Easy there, buddy. Don't make a mess before school." Maggie smiled, brushing Clara's hair gently. "You always know how to make the little things feel important, Clara." Clara leaned slightly, gazing out the window. "Sometimes… it's the little things that matter the most, Mom." Emily sighed from across the table. "Can we finish breakfast before you start philosophizing, Clara?" She smiled faintly, her eyes warm as they watched her sister. Alex, still watching cartoons, glanced at Clara and then returned his attention to the screen. Jonathan checked his watch. "Clara, time to go if you don't want to be late. And don't forget your math homework." "I will, Dad," Clara said, adjusting her backpack. She hugged Marmalade once more before standing. Emily set her phone down. "I'll grab my bag too. We can go together." Alex looked at the clock. "Can I go with Clara, Dad?" Jonathan smiled lightly. "Of course. But don't forget to finish your breakfast first, Alex." Clara opened the apartment door, glancing down the hallway briefly. Her steps were normal, her breath steady. Suddenly, her body froze. Her hand on the doorknob trembled. Her legs felt heavy, as if the floor had disappeared beneath her. She blinked once, then stiffened completely, eyes fixed on nothing. "Maggie…?" Jonathan's voice shook. "Clara… what's happening?" Clara didn't move. Emily stared at her sister, panic spreading across her face. "Mom! Dad! What's wrong with her?!" Jonathan knelt beside Clara, checking her pulse. His face turned pale. "No… she… there's no pulse. She isn't breathing." Maggie ran to her, gently shaking her. "Clara… wake up! Please… don't leave us!" Her cries broke, echoing throughout the apartment. Maggie screamed, tears streaming down her face. "This… this can't be real! She had just had breakfast… she was laughing…" She shook Clara frantically, panic overwhelming her. Alex crouched on the floor, clutching Marmalade tightly. His body shook violently, his cries breaking into small, fragmented sounds: "C-C-Clara…" He couldn't form complete words, only repeating her name over and over. Marmalade meowed softly, staring at Clara, as if sensing something was terribly wrong. Emily grabbed the phone, her hands trembling. "We have to call 911, now!" Jonathan took the phone, his voice tense, almost breaking. "911, we have an emergency! My daughter… she… we need an ambulance immediately!" "Okay sir, what's the address?" the operator asked clearly. Jonathan gave the apartment address, gasping for air. Maggie continued sobbing, calling Clara's name. Emily stood beside Alex, trying to calm him while he still clutched Marmalade, his eyes wide and filled with tears. The apartment was filled only with sobs and cries. Outside, the world went on, car horns, footsteps, birdsong—but inside, time seemed to stop. One life had vanished in an instant, without warning, without reason. Alex finally looked at his mother, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Clara… wake up…" he whispered. Marmalade leaped onto the sofa, meowing softly as if trying to offer comfort. The ambulance arrived minutes later, its sirens flashing through the apartment window. But Clara remained still. No movement, no sign of life. Jonathan held Maggie, trying to contain his own sobs. Emily stood frozen, helpless. Alex still clutched Marmalade, his body shaking as he sobbed. Somewhere unseen, the system continued to tick. Time, fate, and the inhuman game moved on. Clara was only a pawn in a cycle no one could understand, a step in an unfair pattern. The world kept moving, but in the Bennett apartment, one painful truth settled: life can be taken in an instant, no matter how young, healthy, or cheerful. And the game… goes on.

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