by Dante Doom
Sang leaned forward and watched. "Hey, I think that's Morse code! It's spelling something, alright."
"Gee, because everyone knows Morse code," Sahara said. "That's kind of a crappy puzzle."
"There's a guidebook over here!" Fredlin said as he picked up a book. "Check it out, it's got the whole alphabet."
"Luckily, Sang can already read it!" Van said. "That'll save us time."
"That's good," Kylian said as he pointed to the ground, "because that's starting to rumble a little harder."
"I think we're making good time," Van said. "Well? What's it say?"
"From the looks of it, I believe it's telling us that the only way to escape this room is to flip all of the tables."
"Is that the exact wording?" Van asked.
"The exact wording is, 'To get ahead, you must turn the tables,'" Sang replied.
"Well, I guess we could flip the tables," Kylian said. "But that sounds too straight-forward."
"Yeah, because reading a message in a mirror on torches that are blinking in Morse code is straight-forward," Sang replied, her voice dripping with a venomous sarcasm.
"Let's just try it," Sahara said as she grabbed one of the tables and flipped it over. Kylian and Fredlin grabbed the other two and flipped them over, as well. They waited for a moment, but nothing happened.
"Clock is ticking," Fredlin said as the ground continued to rumble. The sound beneath them was growing more fierce and Van knew it was only a matter of time before something bad happened.
"Turn the tables, turn the tables."
"Wait!" Kylian said as he pointed to the place where the coin had been. There was a small hole where the coin would fit perfectly. "The coin was in the tails position when we pulled it out." He flipped the coin so that it was facing the heads position and placed it back in the hole.
There was another grinding noise, but this time it was the north wall, slowly shifting and transforming into a large lion's head.
"You may pass!" the lion statue said as it opened its mouth very wide. The mouth was wide enough for everyone to be able to crawl through.
"Quick!" Van said as he scrambled through the hole. "We gotta move."
He crawled for a few feet and then emerged from the other side of the hole to see that he was in some kind of a lobby. It looked like a waiting room – a few other players were sitting around, pouring orange juice from large carafes and talking amongst themselves.
"Move it!" Sang said as she climbed out of the hole and fell onto the ground. Kylian, Fredlin, and Sahara poured out on top of her.
"Man, I think we're in the waiting room for the next challenge," Van said as he helped Sang to her feet.
"That food smells good," Sang replied as she walked over to one of the tables and began to eat some of the bacon that had been piled up on a plate.
The rest of the team joined her, indulging in the virtual food. Sure, it served no nourishing purpose, but it was incredibly delicious. As Van munched on a virtual bagel, another player walked up to him. His name was Peterson and he was looking rather nervous.
"Hey," Peterson said.
"Hi," Van said.
"We lost one of ours to the fire. That riddle at the end was insane," Peterson said. "You guys doing okay?"
"We're doing fine," Van said, unsure what this guy was looking for.
"This next challenge is going to be crazy. It's some kind of survival contest. All of this food? It's meant to help fuel us up."
"Fuel us up for what?" Van asked.
"The Survival Quest! Apparently, they've got some kind of stats system rigged where it will track our hunger and our thirst in the game. We'll actually have to eat and drink in order to keep playing," Peterson said. "That's crazy, right? That is some hardcore survivalist stuff. I mean, I dig it, but I'm just interested in what it looks like."
"Sounds interesting," Van said. "Did I miss orientation?"
"Nah, some attendant comes in and reads the instructions for the next mission every twenty minutes. I'm assuming this will keep going until everyone finishes up in their escape rooms."
Van nodded at the guess in between bites.
"Hey, let me ask you something," Peterson said as he leaned in close to Van. "This next operation is a little… brutal sounding. The gist is that we're gonna be dropped into the woods, the remaining players. Now, every player still sticks with his team, but the fact is, our job is to eliminate every other team. Since the elements are gonna be extra harsh, we're fighting against our hunger, the land around us, and our foes. It's gonna be tough. You got five guys, and we got four. Only five will remain, so what do you say we make a little arrangement?"
"I'm listening," Van said.
"It's simple; your team and mine have a nonaggression pact until the remaining 16 are eliminated," Peterson said. "I'm not saying let's work together, because let's face it, neither of us are going to trust one another. So, if we see each other, we just go in different directions. In a scrap, maybe we help one another out. Here's the beauty of it, too: this is the final test, so only 5 survivors will win the tournament. So if your numbers drop below five and if we take some losses, both of us could win here. If not, and we get to the point where there are only us 9 left, I say we agree to meet up in the middle and just duke it out… no surprises, no sneaky raids. Just honorable fighting."
"How do I know you'll keep your end of the bargain?" Van asked.
"We have no way of knowing that," Peterson said with a chuckle, "but let's face it, it's not a bad idea. If you don't come at me, my team won't come at you."
"Have you made this arrangement with anyone else?" Van asked as he looked around at the lobby.
"Nah," Peterson said as he shook his head. "A lot of these other teams are looking pretty rough and tumble. You're the only group with a wizard and a ranger, so I figure your chances of survival are a little lower. No offense, but the more you lose, the better this arrangement becomes for you, and vice versa."
"No offense taken," Van said. "Alright, we've got a deal. We don't go near your team and you don't go near ours, but if I see you guys within 50 feet of us and your weapons are out, the deal is off."
"Good deal," Peterson said as he extended a hand. Van shook it, knowing the handshake was meaningless if the man had some kind of clever scheme planned. He had no way of knowing if this Peterson was trustworthy or not, but time would prove whether or not it would be a problem.
As Van and Peterson discussed their favorite parts of the game in idle small talk, a short man scuttled out from an ornate, golden door.
"Attention!" the man said as he opened up a long scroll. "For those who have just joined us, I implore you to listen."
This quieted down the entire room as everyone looked at the little man.
"You have made it to the final part of the tournament. You are one challenge away from becoming a professional Draco player, adorned with riches and splendor that will last you the rest of your life! Yet, Draco is only looking for the best of the best. Those of you here have displayed cunning, teamwork, martial prowess, intelligence, and problem solving, and these are all strong qualities. But there is only one thing we cannot prove in a simple simulation: true courage. If you wish to prove to us that you have true courage and strength of character, then you must be willing to face your greatest fears. Listen, then, as I warn you now, those who opt to remain in the next part of this tournament will have their biofeedback systems activated to a lethal mode.
"If your character suffers from a lethal blow, or if your character dies of dehydration or starvation, a powerful biofeedback force will end your actual life. This is not a joke, nor a reference; what I tell you is truth. If you enter this next part, you will be risking your life to become a Draco pro."
This caused a murmur amongst a few of the newer players who had emerged from various holes in the wall during Van's conversation.
The attendant continued. "We do not wish to have cowards in this team, so the door to exit is over there. You may choose
to walk away from this, to walk away from living life as a king, to be paid to play this game and live a life beyond your wildest dreams. If you fear committing to the murder of a fellow player, remember that they also will have agreed to this pronouncement. The rules are simple: you will all be dropped in the Woods of Terror and Haunted Dreams, armed with nothing but your wits. Weapons are scattered about the woods, but you will be low on health due to hunger and thirst. The last five players remaining in the game, the last surviving people, will go on to live a good life. The rest of you will be dead."
"Holy crap, this is some kind of a joke!" shouted a woman wearing golden armor.
"No, ma'am, it is not a joke," the man replied. "Draco is not interested in cowards. Should you wish to remain living, please, the door to exit this tournament is right there. Let no player believe he is forced to play this game. You may leave now, but if you do, you will be nothing more than a coward."
"Yeah, I'm not a coward," the woman replied as she stormed towards the door. "I'm just sane. See you jerks later – have fun dying over virtual internet points." She promptly vanished upon touching the door. A few other players made their way to the door, and Van counted afterward that there were only 27 players left in the room.
Van glanced over at Peterson. "Are you really staying here?" he whispered. "You're really going to risk your life for this?"
"You don't know me and I don't know you," Peterson said, "but I have lost everything else in my life. This is the only thing I have going for me, so yeah, I'm gonna go for it. I'm gonna go big or die. Nothing else matters."
Van didn't like the sound of desperation in the man's voice, but before he could open his mouth, Peterson leaned over to him. "And before you start to wonder if my desperation makes me untrustworthy, you've got to ask, how desperate or deranged are the rest of these people here? I mean, I don't see you marching for the door. I just don't want anyone to die unnecessarily. So, we gotta be fair as hell towards each other, because it would suck to die from an arrow to the back of the head while bending down to get some water."
Peterson's plan suddenly made a whole lot more sense to Van. He nodded. "As long as you guys stay away from us," Van warned, "nothing changes."
"I figured you'd stick around," Peterson said. "But I'd make the wizard leave. He'll be the first to go."
Those words rang true to Van's ear. Van turned to face Fredlin, who was busy fighting with Sahara over the last piece of bacon.
"Fredlin, you should get out of here," Van said.
"Come again?" Fredlin asked as he let go of the bacon long enough for Sahara to snatch it and pop it into her mouth.
"Guys, we all knew it would take this turn at some point," Van said. "No one here signed up for this without knowing what the risk would be, right? But, Fredlin, your class isn't optimized for this kind of fighting."
"No one else has a spellcaster," Fredlin replied. "I'm gonna be the most valuable part of this team. I have spells that locate water. We'll be doing awesome in there!"
That did sound credible to Van, but the fleshy, spongy nature of wizards meant that it would take barely any damage at all to kill him.
"Sorry, man, but you came this far, and you really made a difference in this. But it would be idiotic for you to risk your life at this juncture."
Fredlin scowled. "Then consider me an idiot. I got word the other day that Savorn, my best friend, died from the attack in San Fran. Draco killed her in that explosion and I swore I'd get revenge." His face grew red now, and tears began to well up in his eyes. "I had so many things that I wanted to say to her, but I didn't get a chance to say any of them. I'm not leaving this place, Van. If you think I'd be better off sitting on the sidelines, hoping that you guys survive, then you're wrong. I want to be in the action."
"Let him stay," Kylian said. "He's got some useful spells that can really help us out here. That invisibility is priceless in this kind of tournament. I'm assuming you want to minimize the amount of people that we fight, right? Staying hidden and out of the way is a great way to do that."
"Good point," Sahara said, "although I'd side with Van here. Wizards are great, but I've played one forever and I can tell you that they do not live long in combat."
"It's not a vote," Fredlin said as he folded his arms. "There is nothing you can say to make me leave."
"Even if it were a direct order?" Van asked.
Fredlin shook his head. "I’m not in the military anymore, Van. I don't have to worry about direct orders. I've been a faithful part of this team for long enough for you to trust that I know what I'm doing. I have been willing to be there for your every single step of the way. Now? Now I need you to be there for me."
Van shrugged. "If you feel that strongly about it, fine, you can stay, but just know that you're probably not going to come back."
"Oh, I'm coming back," Fredlin said. "I've seen war before. Whether you come back or not is a choice. If you ever say to yourself, 'I'm not coming back', then you're gonna fulfill that prophecy; otherwise, you have a good chance." His eyes narrowed, a darkness having fallen across his face.
Sang put a hand on his shoulder. "Alright, well, we're counting on you then, so don't screw it up for us."
This elicited laughter from the rest of the group and drained the tension.. Van nervously glanced over at the rest of the people present. No one else was laughing
Chapter Nine
Van felt the wind whip past him as he dropped towards the earth. When the man had said they would be dropped into the woods, he hadn't expected the prediction to have been literal. Sang, Kylian, Sahara, and Fredlin were all falling alongside of him, a purple bubble of safe-landing magic engulfing them.
The woods were dense, composed mainly of pine trees and oak trees. It was an odd combination to see, but Van tried to memorize as much of the landscape as he could as he fell to the ground. They all landed together at the same time then, their feet gingerly touching the ground as the spell softened their descent.
"Alright, we need to fan out and get some weapons!" Van said. He looked around and found a large rock on the ground.
"Here's a stick that we can whittle down," Kylian said as he picked up a stick. "Turn it into a spear of some sort?"
"I think we'd be better off scavenging," Sang said.
"We can do both," Sahara said as she grabbed a rock and began to clack it against another stone.
"What are you doing?" Van asked as he grabbed a rock from her. "Don't make too much noise. We have no idea who's out there right now."
"Oh, I was trying to sharpen one stone against another one. Then we can use vines to tie them up to make spears," Sahara said.
"That's not a bad idea," Van said, "but I don't think there are any vines around here."
"Moss is available," Fredlin said as he grabbed some moss and stuffed it into his pockets. "Come on, we need to start looking for some water. Water sources are where other players are going to be. If we find the water, we're guaranteed to find where others will be making camp. Then we can sneak in during the middle of the night to kill them."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Van hissed, "we aren't killing anyone."
"The hell we aren't," Fredlin replied. "We're in a deathmatch, Van. If we don't kill them, they will kill us."
Van shook his head, "No, that's too close to murder for me. We'll only fight when we're attacked."
"So your conscience can feel better?" Sang asked. "Van, I know you don't want to hurt innocent people, but let's face it – these people were told exactly what they'd be getting into. There are no surprises here. I'm in favor of Fredlin's plan. I say we try to take out as many as we can, and by surprise if we can."
"I know where you stand," Van said sharply, "but I'm not a fan of that plan. Besides, it's tactically weak. The attacker is always at a disadvantage. Let's find some weapons, figure out where the water is, and wait things out until the numbers drop off. If anyone tries to kill us, we'll fight back, but only when necessary."
"Van, this is
not the time to get into this kind of fight," Sang said as she crossed her arms. "We've got to—"
Her words were interrupted by the rustling of bushes. A large tattooed man with a sword emerged.
"Oh crap!" both he and the entire party shouted at once.
"Oh my, and no one has a sword," the tattooed soldier chuckled as he swung his sword around. "Looks like this will be an easy fight! You don't have to outrun me; you just have to outrun your slowest friend!"
"Outrun this!" Fredlin said as he chucked a stone right at the soldier, cracking him in the skull. The words 10 damage hovered above his head. The soldier stumbled and dropped to the ground, moaning.
"Was that really a lethal hit?" Van asked. He checked the man's hit points to see that he only had 11 hit points total.
"No, but this one is," Fredlin said as he walked up, grabbed the sword, and swiftly stabbed downwards, killing the man.
"Fredlin, are you crazy?" Van asked, but before he could walk up to the wizard and confront him, Sang leapt in front of him.
"What's done is done," she hissed. "If we fail, a lot more than 22 people are going to die." She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him in close. "We don't have time to be bitching about our feelings. Man up and let's get to work."
"Here," Fredlin said as he handed a sword to Sahara.
"Thanks," she said as she spun the sword around a little.
"We better move," Van said, trying not to think about the fate of the man they had just killed. He had no lies to tell himself, and no method of coping with what had happened, so instead, he chose to shove his emotions down and not think about what was unfolding around him. Things were going to be a lot more gruesome in a few hours.
You are thirsty! said Van's display. Health Regeneration is disabled until your thirst is quenched.
"Ah crap," Van said as he looked at his health bar to see that he only had 15 points, as well. His rage power would have been helpful in this situation; it would have given him the ability to stay alive for as long as the rage was activated… though he'd immediately die after it wore off.
