Game of 7even

Chapter One: The Wage of Sin is Death

This had to be the most uncomfortable bed that Gyles had ever slept on. He had never been very picky when it came to where he slept, anywhere was acceptable for him as long as it was out of the way of potential dangers. But a literal metal table was pushing the line. He was cold. He was hungry. But most importantly - he was tired. He wasn't surprised at that, really. He imagined that if he ever actually collected the ambition to pick up a dictionary, the entry for the word 'tired' would be accompanied by his thin, freckled mug.

Nonetheless, he wasn't going to change anytime soon. The amount of sleep he got was insignificant to his ongoing fatigue. His diet didn't have any effect either, it seemed. It was almost as if he was genetically lazy. Not that he could be bothered to get it checked out by a doctor or anything. Laziness wasn't a disease, anyway. Plus, he hated the feeling of drugs in his system. Maybe that was just his rural lineage. The blood that lately he'd wanted to watch flow out of his wrists, but was too tired to care. It's not like he wanted to die, really. He just kind of hoped that maybe the threat of death might trigger some burst of adrenaline that would make his curse of laziness go away.

The cold, hard metal table would have been fine if that stupid light would stop flickering. One of those huge white ones, it made him think of a dentist's office. Or maybe an autopsy table. But he obviously wasn't dead, or injured in the slightest. Whoever brought him here probably drugged him in his sleep, which opened a wide range of opportunity as to when they actually did it. There wasn't really any sense of time in the blank room with the slate grey walls, the metal table, and the bright light. No color, no excitement. Just bland and monochrome, similar to Gyles himself. His whole life had been devoid of color, until recently. Murder was kind of a ridiculous charge for someone who was obviously incapable of doing such acts. He didn't try to plead his innocence - his reputation of being a chronic liar preceded him to the courtroom. The stricter international laws after the war spared nobody. And now he was - or at least he assumed he was - in prison, facing a death sentence.

The constant flickering of the light overhead pretty much guaranteed that he wasn't going to get back to sleep any time soon. Hauling himself into a sitting position, he squinted at the contents of the grey room. When he first woke up he had assumed that the metal table was the only piece of furniture, but after sitting up he noticed that there was a smaller metal table next to the heavy metal door. Sliding off the table, he trudged over to the door, peering out the small window set into it. He seemed to be in one of a series of rooms in a long hallway. Squinting, he could make out that on each of the doors, there was a strange symbol resembling some kind of animal, and each symbol was different. He counted seven rooms including his own, and one large door at the end of the hallway.

Turning away from the door, Gyles looked down at the table. Folded neatly there was a black jumpsuit and a pair of black tennis shoes. Upon further investigation, the jumpsuit had a symbol printed onto the back, and after a minute he realized it was a goat. Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, he put the jumpsuit back down. Whoever ran this place had to have looked through his file or something, because it wasn't just coincidence that his jumpsuit had a goat on it. Memories of the goat farm he lived on as a kid flooded his brain and made him wrinkle his nose. Trying to distract himself, he looked out into the hallway again, wondering what kind of prison they'd thrown him into.

The loud screech of an intercom invaded his ears, making him cringe. A smooth male voice with a heavy French accent boomed through the hallway.

"Welcome, my wonderful young criminals, and may I say, I am positively delighted to have you here. Before we get acquainted more, I'm going to need you all to change your clothes for health and safety reasons. I have provided you each with suitable garb for what is in store. Once you change, the cameras located in your rooms will notify the sensors in your doors to open. You will then proceed through the door to the meeting room. Make sure to be quick, it will benefit you later.~"

        With another screech, the intercom shut off. The silence that had earlier filled the hallway didn't have time to reappear before a loud male voice, accompanied by banging as if someone was ramming their shoulder into the door of their room.

"This is bullshit! Where the hell are we?"

       A squeaky female voice joined in.

"I hope they don't expect me to wear THIS! It's hideous!"

       Soon, everyone was yelling, some questions, some obscenities. Gyles knew that screaming was useless and tiresome. He might as well act like a good boy and play along until they decided when his execution date was. He changed into the jumpsuit and sneakers, and as promised the door swung open. He stepped out into the hallway, glancing left and right. Just a blank white hallway with metal doors. The door that led to the supposed meeting room was still closed. He assumed that everyone had to be out of their room before it opened. This might take a while, he thought.

(So that's the first chapter! Hope you enjoyed, and keep an eye out for new chapters!)