INVASION: Wildest Game

Ch, 4: Captive

Alexa's POV

Someone suddenly kicked my legs from behind, sending me crashing to my knees. Gritting my teeth, I lifted my gaze only to find a girl standing before me, flanked by a group of equally snooty-looking boys and girls.

She's Jessica, the meanest girl on campus. She'd held a grudge against me ever since I beat her in a literature competition five years ago.

Without warning, a splash of ice-cold water hit me, drenching my clothes and sending a shiver down my spine. Jessica smirked at me, her eyes gleaming with cruel delight as she watched me tremble.

She crouched down, leveling herself with me, then cupped my face in her hands, her nails digging slightly into my skin.

"I was just outside your classroom earlier," she sneered. "I heard you talking—disagreeing with the idea of technological advancement. Why do you always act like you're better than everyone else, huh?" Her glare bore into me, sharp and menacing.

A boy in her group chuckled. "How can you be so brave when you look no better than those droids?" Their laughter echoed around me, suffocating.

This is so embarrassing.

Jessica straightened, her smirk widening. "Let me teach you a lesson for always making me look like a fool."

She raised her hand, ready to strike. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the impact, automatically recite numbers in my head, my usual way of calming my nerves.

One... two... three... four... five...

But nothing came.

For a second, I wondered if I had simply gone numb. But then I opened my eyes and Jessica was no longer focused on me. Her wrist was caught in a firm grip.

Standing beside her was a guy—tall, sharp-featured, with jet-black hair, brown eyes, and a leather jacket that made him look like he had just stepped out of an action movie.

His voice was deep, unwavering. "Stay away from her, or I'll report every single one of you, not just to the higher council, but to the guidance office."

Jessica hesitated, her confidence faltering as the stranger's grip tightened ever so slightly before he released her.

"If I ever catch you pulling this stunt again," he continued, his tone laced with authority, "brace yourselves for the punishment you actually deserve. I'll make sure of it."

The group backed away immediately, their earlier arrogance crumbling.

Who is this guy?

Judging by their reactions, he isn't just some random student—he has influence. Maybe even power.

"Apologize to her first, then you can go back to your seats and eat peacefully." He added in a commanding tone.

Jessica gasped and clenched her fists, trying to hold back.

They all apologize, except for Jessica. I can tell from her reaction that she feels like this handsome guy is crushing her pride.

She took her ID out of her pants and placed it on the guy's chest.

"Report me all you want, but I will never apologize to that b*tch!" she spat, locking eyes with Davi, her pride burning brighter than reason. With a final glare of pure hatred in my direction, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the cafeteria, her minions trailing behind like shadows.

This mysterious hero of mine who saved me now stood beside me, letting out a sharp exhale before crouching down and extending a hand to help me stand. His voice was gentle, laced with concern. "Sorry I'm late. Are you hurt?" His words, along with his sudden familiar features, made it clear. He must be Cassandra's cousin.

I hesitated only for a moment before taking his hand, his grip firm yet careful as he helped me to my feet. "Bearable," I murmured, feeling the unmistakable heat rising to my cheeks.

Behave, Alexa. Don't blush!

"They won't stop, and you know that," he said, his tone laced with frustration. "Even if I report them, I have no proof. No one around here would dare speak up as a witness. But don't worry," his voice softened, "I'll be here for you from now on. I'm Davi Gonzales, the Student Council President. Can we be friends?"

I met his warm brown eyes and, despite everything, felt a flicker of reassurance settle in my chest. Shyly, I nodded and gave him a small smile.

But then—suddenly—my head spun. My vision blurred.

I tried to steady myself, but the world around me tilted.

Through the haze, I caught a glimpse of Davi. He was frozen—completely still. No movement, no reaction. The entire cafeteria seemed to have been suspended in time. A strange, suffocating stillness took over.

My knees buckled.

A sharp thud rang in my ears as I hit the floor, nausea washing over me in waves. My body felt weightless, unmoored, as if I had been thrust into a spiraling abyss. It was like a rollercoaster with no end.

And then I opened my eyes. I am standing again.

Is this a glitch in the matrix?

But this time, all I could see is darkness.

A void stretching endlessly.

I tried to move, but useless. My body refused to respond. Panic clawed at my chest as I struggled against the invisible chains holding me down. Even screaming was impossible. Cold sweat dripped down my forehead as terror sank its claws deep into me.

Then—memories flooded in.

Waking up. Going to school. Meeting Cassandra in the library. The argument with Keesha. The bullying. The moment I first met Davi.

It was real but it didn't happen real time.

It was all a memory from the past—one from three years ago. I was just dreaming my past memory.

This is just a dream. Nothing more.

And then it hit me. The crash. The pain. The fear.

The spaceship accident. The moment everything went dark. The loss of consciousness—it was still so vivid. Too real that I know just happened hours ago.

But before I could make sense of it, I felt it a sudden, gut-wrenching sensation of falling. Plummeting into nothingness.

And then I snapped awake.

Panting. Gasping. Clawing for breath.

It took me a few minutes to gather myself before slowly rising and surveying my surroundings. The stark whiteness of the walls, ceiling, and bed linens makes me wonder if I'm in a hospital. But the room is too small, too confined. The only ventilation comes from a narrow rectangular opening with three metal bars set into the iron door. This feels less like a hospital and more like a cell—an oddly pristine and well-maintained one.

I step off the bed and move toward the door, peering through the opening in search of any sign of life. Across from me, a row of identical cell-like doors stretches endlessly, each one mirroring the last.

I reach for the door handle and twist.

It's locked.

Frustration surges through me as I pound against the metal, the sharp bangs echoing down the corridor. "Hello! Is anyone out there?" My voice wavers between desperation and disbelief. "I need someone to tell me what the hell is going on!"

A voice, deep and familiar, responds from beyond the corridor. "No one's literally out here. We're prisoners."

Others stir at the sound of my voice, peeking out through their barred openings. Faces—some familiar, some unfamiliar—emerge from the shadows.

Then, one of them speaks again, his tone steady. "Looks like you were right, Ms. Stanfield. It's been three years, and I still remember what you said about them."

Recognition hits me like a shockwave. I know him. He's one of the few sane ones left I knew.