Playmate

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 3: Tʀɪꜱᴛᴀɴ

    His voice deepened as he counted, "One."

Your heart leapt to your throat and your immediate response was to flee the scene. Blindly, you palmed for the walls, which weren't far from your reach. It was of texture wallpaper, forming patterns your brain didn't have time to process.

"Two."

Cursing quietly, you ran your fingers along as you walked by quickly until you felt the distinct change from wallpaper to wood. You were quick to locate the door handle that elongated downwards. Pushing it up to the side, you were able to pull the door inwards.

"Three," he had counted. "Four."

A streak of light flooded in, chasing away the gloom of darkness. Now that you could see, you rushed outside and desperately wished to lock it but there was no handle on this side of the door.

"I hear you," the stranger spoke aloud from inside with evident amusement. "Five! Quickly!"

You turned and ran, only to halt. Oh gosh. There were two pathways in the corridor, too much of a hassle to choose. To your right was another closed door.

"What're you still doing there?!" Hissed a voice from behind along with hurried footsteps towards you, causing you to turn to your left. He had come from around the corner and was now approaching with furrowed brows. Before you could say anything, he grabbed your forearm and dragged you with him at a quick pace.

"Who are you? Where are you taking me?" You questioned, scared. The situation was becoming confusing, fast. A young man claiming to be in a game with you and this one, who threw a glare your way. Just who were these people?!

"I don't know you just yet either but you shouldn't be near Aeron. You're supposed to be hiding already," he said with a frustrated tone as though you should have known earlier, but you were just tasked to get more plates in Persephone's room as far as you remember. 

You were about to respond but he shushed you quickly and began to jog quietly. The two of you turned the corner and were faced with a door ahead and two more east and westward. He kept going, so you followed, matching his rather extensive steps. Putting his arm in front of him, he pulled up the long handle and pulled you inside with a rough grip.

"Ouch, chill," you remarked, tugging your arm from him.

He closed the door slowly and stared at you. "You don't survive when you're chill, keep that in mind," he said and was already opening a nearby door to your right before you could assess where you are.

"No, I meant your grip. You're holding my arm too tight," you whined, and he gladly let go.

Upon opening the door, he pushed you inside impatiently. It was a corridor narrower than the previous one you were in. The wallpapers were velvet red, reaching up to the high ceiling that was of a lighter shade.

"Keep going," he muttered as you heard him closing the door behind you.

Ahead, there was another closed door. You quickly walked towards it, getting more frightened with each muted step over the carpeted floor. Your feet were dressed with fluffy inside sleepers, which dulled your footfalls even more.

The guy was by your side in an instant. His breathing was heavy, and so was his aura.

"Where are we anyway?" You asked nervously.

"Save your breath. The only thing you need to know is you have to play along," he answered. 

Not the friendliest guy around. Pursing your lips, you decided to mirror his behavior. Your eyes can't help but wander back up to his face. "But eventually, you have to answer my questions or I'll annoy you further."

"Later."

He stopped and turned to a door you didn't notice along the way. Upon opening it, he ushered you in and followed suit. The handle was inside, so he turned it down and secured the door.

You looked around curiously in the small space. The bathroom was fully designed. Everything was in place, with bottles on their compartments and even a white towel, probably unused, but the mirror was cracked. When you went to check, he beat you to it and bent down to the sink.

The water from the faucet gushed down strongly and he gathered them in his palms, then dipped his face low. It sounded too noisy to your ears. When he was done, his eyes jumped up to his reflection.

By the way he was ordering you to be quick and quiet earlier, you would have assumed he was older, but the young man looked to be in his early twenties, a rough guess on your part. His cautious gray eyes observed his solemn countenance as a few faded ash-blonde locks of wet hair framed his face.

"My name's Tristan," he spoke suddenly and wiped the droplets from his skin with his hands.

"My name's [F/n]," you answered, looking for a place to seat. The edge of the bathtub maybe, but you felt shy in a matter of seconds that you were alone with him. 

"First time I saw you here." He sat on the edge of the tub, much to your disappointment. With a serious look in his eye, he asked, "How did you die?"

"What? No. I didn't die," you denied his assumption, strongly shaking your head. Tristan's expression stayed stoic. "This may seem hard to believe, but I don't know, I just found myself here and met the guy who started counting, and then you found me. I don't understand what's going on."

"No living person arrives here."

Your blood turned cold, and your shoulders tensed. "There's no way that I died. That can't be." Thoughts fired quickly in your mind, a realization, an assumption, anything - was this supernatural? A dream? Or did you actually forget how you got here? 

"I'm messing with you," he said with no change or pitch in his face and voice.

Confused, you stared at him. "Can you please tell me what's happening?"

His eyes assessed you sharply, from head to foot. The silence was for a while before he replied. "Frankly, I think you'll do well not knowing for now. What's important is that we hide until he finds someone. What did he tell you by the way?"

Assuming he was referring to the first guy you met, you answered, "He just told me to hide, that's all. I don't even know him."

Tristan smirked. "You do. You just haven't figured it out yet."

In the distance, the strong ticking of a clock rung hauntingly to your ears.

"What was that?" You asked quietly, turning to him.

"It's the Grandfather's Clock." He stood up. "It means it's time. The game has begun."