The fall
1223 Words
CELIA
My eyes snap open.
For a second, I can’t breathe. It's like I’m still falling. Like gravity’s still pulling me. Then air rushes back into my lungs, cold and sharp, carrying the scent of… metal? Rust?
I blink. Once. Twice.
And everything comes into sharp focus.
The city lights are gone. The balcony’s gone. The screaming, the wind, the pain—gone.
Instead, there’s… concrete, and endless gray walls. A flickering bulb swings overhead, throwing weak light across cracked tiles. It looks like a subway station — abandoned, empty, and dead quiet except for the steady drip of water somewhere in the dark.
“What the hell—”
I sit up too fast, dizzy. My hands tremble as I touch the ground — it’s cold and gritty. My brain’s still trying to catch up. Was it a dream? A nightmare? Did I hit my head?
Lauren. Kevin. The railing—
I squeeze my eyes shut. No way. No freaking way.
Did I imagine all that? Was it some horrible, twisted dream after I fell asleep waiting for him?
I exhale shakily, rubbing my temples. A chill run down my spine just thinking of the terror of the fall followed by relief.
“God, Lauren, you psychotic bratty b***h. I swear, if I ever—”
DING!
A sound slices through the air, sharp and mechanical.
My heart leaps from my throat, my brain starting to ask the prominent question it should have asked.
WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING IN A SUBWAY?
Then, a distorted voice crackles through the speakers, cheerful and way too loud.
[Congratulations! You are dead!]
I freeze.
[But considering the greenhouse effect, hell is currently on recycle mode. So, lucky you—you’re being sent to the underworld as entertainment. Please remain calm and wait for your ride.]
Hell. I already knew if hell was true, I'll be going there. But… I'm actually going there??
I stare at the ceiling. “W-what?”
My voice echoes, bouncing off the concrete. No answer. Just that steady drip… drip… drip.
Underworld? Entertainment?
I push myself to my feet, wobbling a little. My head’s spinning, but the pain I expect isn’t there. I glance down and my clothes are spotless. Not the bath robe I was wearing when I fell, but… something else entirely.
A white shirt. Gray slacks. Bare feet.
“What the actual hell is going on…”
The flickering bulb above me hums louder, like it’s reacting to my voice. A gust of air whistles through the tunnel, cold enough to make goosebumps prickle my skin.
Then, from the far end of the track, I hear it.
A rumble. Low at first. Then louder. Metal grinding against metal.
A light blinks on in the distance.
“Oh, no. No, no, no—”
The thing barreling down the tunnel isn’t a normal train. The front looks melted, edges twisted, glass shattered. It’s glowing a ghostly blue light as it screeches closer, sparks raining off its sides like fireworks.
When it finally halts in front of me, the doors slide open with a hiss.
I lean, peaking inside.
It's so dark that I can't see. So, I stagger back, my heart thumping painfully in my chest.
“Jesus Christ. I—”
[Now boarding. Please step in quickly. Delay will result in instant disintegration.]
My jaw drops. “Instant what?”
One. Two.
The ground beneath me trembles, faint cracks spidering along the tiles.
“Okay okay!” I raise my hands, heart hammering before stumbling into the train just as the doors slam shut behind me.
That's when I know that the inside is actually not that dark.
Because… I can see actual people in here. Or things. I don't know. But there are like six of them. Their heads are bowed, faces swallowed in shadows. They don't move. Not even when the door closes with that ugly hiss.
“Um…” I clear my throat. “Hi?”
Silence.
Then, the same cheerful mechanical voice crackles through the ceiling speakers again and my head snaps to its direction.
[Welcome, contenders! We are delighted to have you onboard]
My stomach sinks.
[You have officially entered the survival games. Each contenders will be given a chance to rewrite their fate if they complete their assigned tasks with the highest grade. Fail, and you may choose between disintegration… or your soul becoming food for hell hounds]
I stare at the speaker, mouth dry.
Rewrite my fate.
The phrase loops in my head like a broken record.
Rewrite my fate.
Rewrite my fate.
I grip one of the poles for balance as the train starts to move. And after what feels like minutes, the train stops and a ding comes from the speaker again.
[Arriving at world 07: Contestant 07, please prepare to disembark]
The door slides open with a hiss and a cold, damp, and metallic air spills in.
My head snaps to the other six just to see them unmoving.
Wait. Don't tell me I'm… contestant number 07?
My brain blanks, panic settling in.
“Wait–what? No, I'm not–” I step back, shaking my head. “I didn't sign up for any of this! I'm not getting off anywhere!”
I stare at the door. I can’t see beyond the threshold. Just… mist. Endless, black mist.
I stumble farther back, pressing my spine against the train wall. “No. No—”
The voice interrupts, still cheery.
[Failure to exit will result in disqualification]
“Disqual—?!”
The floor trembles beneath me. The faceless passengers finally turn their heads — all at once — in one slow, jerky motion. My breath catches. They don’t have faces. Just smooth skin stretched where eyes and mouths should be.
“What the hell—”
Then something cold brushes my ankle.
I look down.
Long skeletal shadowy hands are reaching through the open door. One, two, three, too many to count.
“NO—!”
They grab me — arms, legs, hair — yanking me out with inhuman strength. I claw at the doorframe, but my fingers slip through the metal like smoke.
The voice chirps again, unbothered.
[Thank you for your cooperation, Contestant 07. Enjoy your world]
And then—
I’m falling.
The world blurs. Air rushes past me, hot and cold all at once. My stomach lurches. My scream dies in my throat.
It’s that same feeling again.
The freefall. The helplessness. The way gravity owns you.
Until—
I jolt awake, gasping.
My heart’s slamming against my ribs, sweat clinging to my neck. My lungs burn like I’ve been running. For a moment, I don’t know where I am, only that I’m not falling anymore.
“My lady! My lady!”
The voice cuts through the haze — urgent, and desperate. A hand grips my shoulder.
“Please, wake up! You’re bleeding!”
I blink through the blur, the world slowly sharpening into color. A ceiling of carved stone. Faint sunlight seeping through silk curtains. And a cute woman in a maid’s uniform — her face pale, eyes wide with relief.
She’s kneeling beside me, trembling.
“Oh, thank the gods,” she breathes. “You’re alive.”
I stare at her, chest heaving, words barely a whisper.
“…What...?”
- Writer
