I got up at dawn. I left the hut. I heard footsteps, and hid in the brushes, clutching the wooden dagger. It was A and D, looking tired, heading back from the river. They'd been out all night. I kept hidden and continued.
I foraged. I hunted. I thought I saw something moving behind me. It got dark. I went back to the hut at midnight.
Same routine every day. I got to be productive and avoid everyone. It was great. I loved it.
I'm being sarcastic in case you couldn't tell.
But I was surviving, and survival was important to me. If survival meant isolation and living in fear, so be it.
I wonder why I bothered returning to the hut, I guess I thought A and C needed me, and needed the food I was bringing. But I wasn't afraid to disappear, I'd done it before, I'd have done it again.
C didn't love me. A was being taken away. Everyone was against me and I had reason to be afraid, I think. I'm not sure what's real anymore.
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(WIP 1ST DRAFT) Welcome To The Mind Games
Science Fiction"26 players, 1 survivor, Welcome To The Mind Games, Player A." A and 25 others must work together, or against each other to survive. With little memory of their old life, A is desperate for answers. Especially when it seems A is the only player who...
