Fate of deception

Chapter 38 - Amir's POV

The hostess's voice cut through the dimmed room, smooth and unwavering, wrapping around us like a noose we didn't realize was tightening. I felt the words seep into my skin, heavy, unsettling, as if they were meant for me alone. My gaze drifted toward Umaizah; she stood a few feet away, shadowed yet sharp, her expression unreadable. I wanted to reach for her, to ground myself in her steadiness, but in this place, any attachment felt like a weakness. I could sense the walls watching, as if they, too, were waiting to see who would falter first.

The lights above flickered with an uneasy glow, stretching shadows across the room like claws reaching to claim us. Around me, people's faces looked like masks, frozen in expressions that no longer seemed their own. The very air felt alive, pulsing with tension, as if the room itself was holding its breath. My chest felt tight, like a stone was lodged there, heavy and cold.

The hostess's words lingered, hanging in the silence like smoke, filling every crevice of my mind. "Some of you know why you're here, and some of you... have yet to discover it," she had said. The implication clawed at me, twisting my thoughts into questions I didn't want to ask. Why was I here? For a moment, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were all part of something far darker than we'd been led to believe, an elaborate trap disguised in elegance and mystery.

The guests shifted uneasily, glancing at one another, casting veiled looks across the dimmed room. Each person seemed like an actor caught off-script, struggling to keep up with a play that had veered into strange, uncharted territory. To my left, a man whispered something to his companion, his voice barely audible, his words fractured like glass shards. Behind me, a woman clutched her drink tightly, her knuckles pale as she stared into the middle distance, perhaps replaying the scenes in her mind, wondering if she, too, would end up like Miss Eleanor and Mr. Black.

And then, a realization struck me like a knife to the gut: None of us were safe. The whole room could see it, though we all pretended otherwise. Each smile, every slight nod or sidelong glance—these were gestures of survival. We were mice caught in a cage, with the faint smell of something far worse than blood hanging in the air. A glance at Umaizah showed she sensed it, too. Her eyes met mine, a fleeting connection that said more than words could. I wanted to tell her I'd protect her, that I'd see her through this. But what good were promises in a game that shifted every second?

Something in me hardened. Whatever this was—this game, this test, this nightmare—it wasn't going to devour me, or her. I felt a resolve crystallize, turning cold and sharp within. My father had once told me that when faced with wolves, a man has only two choices: to stand his ground or be torn apart. I'd spent my life trying to keep my head down, to avoid making waves. But here, now, that wasn't an option. If they wanted a game, I'd learn the rules. And if they wanted fear, they wouldn't find it in me.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, dimming even further, and a faint hum of machinery filled the silence. A hologram began to take shape at the far end of the room, casting a pale blue light that painted the faces around me with an eerie glow. Slowly, names scrolled across the screen, followed by vague images and symbols I couldn't decipher. The room grew colder as the hologram pulsed, and I realized with a sickening certainty that it wasn't just listing names—it was ranking us.

Next to each name was a marker, some in green, others in a dull red. My own name, "Amir," glowed faintly in yellow, neither safe nor condemned, but somehow even more precarious for it. I felt my heart rate spike, my mind racing. Was this another warning? Or an invitation?

"Observe," the hostess's voice commanded through the room once more, her tone devoid of any warmth. "The stakes have risen. The choices you make from this moment forward will shape more than just your future—they will determine it."

Beside me, Umaizah's face was drawn tight, her eyes locked on the hologram. For a moment, I could see her fear, raw and unguarded. But beneath it, there was something else—a steely resolve, mirroring my own. I reached for her hand, a brief, grounding touch. She didn't pull away. In that instant, I felt our fates intertwine, our unspoken alliance against whatever darkness lay ahead.

As the hologram faded and the lights returned to their dim glow, the room seemed to exhale, releasing us from its immediate grip. But I knew the reprieve was temporary. The game had shifted, its stakes higher, its players stripped of their illusions. And though I couldn't see the whole board, one thing was clear: we were being hunted. And in the end, only one of us could survive.