GAME RULES ━ ATEEZ

03.

Thunder cracked outside. Jongho sat in the kitchen with the rest of his friends, staring at the floor blankly.

The seven boys had waited for hours in the little jacuzzi room, staring intently at the tub, waiting for it to spit their friend back out. But after it swallowed Yunho up in a haze of water it settled down just as quickly, leaving the seven of them to wait in vain. Eventually, Hongjoong and Seonghwa herded them out of the room, covering the jacuzzi with a tarp.

"I can't believe this," Jongho mumbled to himself more than anyone, breaking the long silence.

"This is a fucking joke." Yeosang sighed, pulling the blanket around his shoulders tighter and putting his head on the table.

Mingi scoffed. "Joke isn't the word I'd use. "

"We all thought this was a joke, Mingi. Even you." Yeosang responded.

Mingi turned, speaking pointedly. "So? Maybe we're all to blame. But some of us certainly did more than others."

"Mingi, stop."

"Yeosang and San did something—I don't fucking know what—they did something and now Yunho is gone. We can't get him back. This stupid fucking house took him away."

Yeosang opened his mouth to respond, but Jongho interrupted before he could. "Yunho is gone and you guys are fighting? We need to fix this."

"Fix what? What do we need to fix?" Yeosang questioned. "Let's just fucking leave. Let's leave before this house comes alive and swallows the rest of us whole."

"You want to leave without Yunho?"

"Mingi, you don't know what I saw down there. Yunho is gone. We aren't getting him back."

"What did you see down there? Enlighten us all." Mingi stood. "If it was anyone else, Yunho would be fighting to get them back. But we're just going to give up?"

"They look like demons." San looked up from where he had been focused on the table. He hadn't spoken since Yunho disappeared. "They're these faceless creatures with long, bony limbs. They look like demons. They were hanging onto my ankles, and no matter how hard I fought, they just brought me deeper, and deeper—"

Hongjoong put a hand on San's back. "It's okay."

"No. No, I could hear Yunho screaming my name, and I was trying to yell back, but everything was going dark. I got so tired." Jongho could tell San was trembling. "Then something started ringing. Like an alarm, or a telephone, or something. The demon things let go of my ankles and it felt like all the air had been yanked out of my lungs, and then I was back."

"San—"

"Wait," Mingi interrupted, grabbing the rulebook and flipping through. "A telephone?"

"Yeah, I heard it too. It sounded like a telephone ringing." Yeosang agreed.

"Here, rule #6. 'If the telephone rings at any time during the day, answer it. No one is calling. They are waking you up.' What does that mean?"

Hongjoong frowned. "Last night, I was trying to sleep when the old rotary phone rang. I picked up, but I only got static."

"Waking us up?" Jongho frowned. "I don't understand."

"I don't think any of us do." Mingi turned to Yeosang. "But we couldn't leave if we wanted to. Rule #2: do not leave the grounds once the game has begun.

Whatever game this is, it's started—and we need to figure out how to win."

——

Seonghwa sat in the living room with his head in his hands.

Yunho was gone. Seonghwa didn't know where, he just knew that Yunho had disappeared and this sick game had started and now they were seven.

How could they win? Could they win at all? Or were they destined to be stuck here forever, walking on eggshells around this stupid house to stay alive?

They weren't allowed to leave the estate, and Seonghwa didn't want to risk breaking another rule. All they could do was figure out how to play this game, or they'd all end up like Yunho.

"Seonghwa?"

He straightened. He knew that voice.

"Yunho?" He turned, peering into the kitchen. A figure stood in the doorway. Seonghwa stood up. "Yunho? Is that you?"

"Seonghwa."

"Yunho?" He crept closer. The kitchen was dark. Seonghwa could vaguely make out the line of Yunho's shoulders, the length of his legs. He reached out to turn on the light.

A hand closed over his wrist. Yunho was stopping him from turning on the light. Why?

"Seonghwa, don't turn on the light."

"What? Why?" The grip on Seonghwa's hand tightened. The fingers dug into his forearm uncomfortably. "Yunho, stop. You're hurting me."

"Seonghwa, don't turn on the light."

"You already said that." The grip tightened even further. Seonghwa tried to yank his arm away, but the hold was too strong. Seonghwa squinted his eyes against the dark, trying to make out Yunho's features.

Everything was right, but not exactly. The way this body worked together wasn't the way Yunho's did. The arms were a touch too long, the legs ending too high, the shoulders too broad. The hand gripping Seonghwa's wrist was too spindly, the fingers too thin.

"Seonghwa, rule #21."

Blindly, Seonghwa reached out his other hand. His fingers grazed over where Yunho's mouth should be. He was met with nothing. 

Faceless creatures. 

"You're not Yunho."

The telephone rang behind him.