DEADLOCK [On Hold]

Chapter II

THE Ǝ⅄Ǝ ƎNO˥Ɔ⅄Ɔ
Chapter II.

The sound of people chattering filled the area, creating a seemingly normal atmosphere, but the sight was anything but typical: a crowd donned distinct eye masks that covered the upper half of their faces, leaving only their eyes and lips visible.

A hot topic among them was the arrival of six new people who had joined them. Some raised eyebrows, some laughed, some shrugged, and others simply didn't care.

"Oh, Mother Grims! They probably didn't see that coming, did they?" a masculine voice chimed in from the crowd, laced with playful disbelief.

"Quit it, Poker. I'm not in the mood to talk. Nakikisabay ka pa sa ingay," an exasperated voice responded. It was Jinx, a bicolor-haired, average-height woman, rolling her eyes at the man before her, the one whose name was apparently Poker-earning a pouty, dramatic whine from him.

"Ehh, come on, Jinx... can't you at least care for once? Para akong kumakausap ng dingding, eh!" Poker whined, lightly stomping his feet like a child throwing a mock tantrum on the gray pavement.

Having had enough of his antics, Jinx let out an exasperated scoff and walked past him, completely ignoring him and the crowd that continued chattering about the six newcomers. "People need to mind their own business sometimes," she muttered under her breath, her ears shutting out the whispers and laughter around her as she focused on putting distance between herself and the commotion.

Why should she care about those people, anyway? They were probably just like the rest-letting their curious minds get ahead of them. And where had that gotten them? Here, of all places. But whoever those six newcomers were, they were about to get their hands real dirty. Jinx shook her head lightly, dismissing those thoughts as she moved further away from the crowd.

People can either be logical and rational about anything and everything, or the complete opposite. It's a choice that determines how well you can survive life and whatever it brings.

It's a constant battle between the heart and the mind: does the heart control the mind, or does the mind control the heart? If you find yourself in a place like this, you'd be a fool not to think outside the box-locked up in your own doom, digging your own grave.

"Excuse me, hey, um... are we really supposed to wear these eye masks...?" a feminine voice asked, disrupting Jinx's thoughts. She jerked her head to look at the woman with unruly light pink hair. Jinx raised an eyebrow, tilting her head. New voice? Must be one of those six, she thought.

"Yeah. Unless you're eager for everyone to know your name on day one," Jinx answered, her tone as flat as the pavement beneath their feet. She shot a quick glance at the woman's eye mask-a soft pink with fine white lines, delicate but deceptive, like the girl who wore it. Something so polished didn't belong here, Jinx thought, moving past the stranger with little interest.

That wide-eyed look. She'd seen it all before. The newcomers always wore that expression, thinking they were different. Like the rules wouldn't apply to them.

Jinx couldn't help but feel a bitter sense of déjà vu. How many times had she seen this exact scene unfold? The same curiosity, the same nervous laughter, the same twisted hope that maybe-just maybe-things would turn out differently this time. But they never did.

It was always the same game. She had come to terms with what Deadlock really was: a slow, grueling spiral. And once you've been caught in its web, you either learn to cut the strings yourself, or you wait for someone else to do it for you. You either adapt, or you crumble. In a place like this, concern was a luxury for the naive, and she had no use for it.