The Bites

Chapter 10

"No, Jack! Please!" Nick's pleas echoed through the room, his eyes wide with terror.

Jack, trembling with the weight of his decision, raised his weapon. "I'm sorry, but survival comes first."

"No-!"

Blake's voice joined Nick's in a desperate chorus of pleas as the first strike landed. Her tears streaming down her face clutched her wounded side. "This isn't right. We were supposed to survive together."

In the haunting silence of the forest room, the metallic echoes of Jack's weapon reverberated like a sombre drumbeat. The numbers on the wall dwindled, each blow bringing them closer to an uncertain fate.

Brea's consciousness snapped back into her body, and as the haze of her revival lifted, she felt a surge of energy coursing through her healed form. The hole in her forehead vanished, leaving no trace of the gunshot wound. Taking advantage of the moment, she rose to her feet silently.

Still grappling with the confusion of the door remaining sealed, Jack was caught off guard when Brea lunged at him.

"What the hell?" Jack exclaimed, attempting to elude Brea's sudden attack. "You were dead!"

Brea's movements, a dance of agility and determination, evaded Jack's counterattacks. "Not so easy to get rid of me," she retorted, her voice a mix of defiance and vengeance.

Their confrontation unfolded with the intensity of a showdown. Jack, once the victor, now faced an adversary who defied the rules he thought governed their fate. The forest room echoed with the clashing of their weapons, the simulated moonlight casting eerie shadows as they circled each other.

"You were supposed to be dead!" Jack's frustration fueled his strikes; each blow attempted to reconcile the inexplicable turn of events.

Brea's agility and self-healing ability, now fully unleashed, taunted him, "Looks like I'm more resilient than you thought."

The struggle intensified as they grappled, and the once-cohesive group was now reduced to a battle between former allies. The forest room, designed to test their limits, became a crucible for the surviving duo.

Amidst the chaos, the numbers on the wall continued their relentless countdown. The door remained sealed, indifferent to the internal strife in the room. Jack, driven by a desperate determination to escape, fought on despite Brea's inexplicable resurgence.

Their weapons clashed, a cacophony of desperation echoing through the simulated environment. Brea's movements, fueled by newfound strength, pressed Jack relentlessly. The dance of combat played out against the backdrop of their shattered alliance.

As they clashed, the forest room's illusions intensified, heightening their struggle's surreal nature. Shadows twisted and elongated, mirroring the internal turmoil that enveloped the combatants.

Grappling with physical and emotional exhaustion, Jack shouted, "This isn't possible!"

Her eyes reflecting the fire of resilience, Brea replied, "Survival has its own rules, Jack."

With a final, decisive move, Brea disarmed Jack and held him at bay. The numbers on the wall reached zero, and the door slowly creaked open. However, the victory was tainted by the heavy toll their conflict had exacted.

Brea stepped out of the forest room, the door closing behind her with a soft hiss. The transition was abrupt, the eerie calm of the small space contrasting sharply with the chaos she had just left. The walls, adorned with a dull metallic sheen, absorbed the dim light.

A strange calm settled over Brea, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she had entered another layer of this enigmatic experiment. The room lacked discernible features, giving it an otherworldly emptiness.