House of Trap

01 | Welcome To The House

The sky was painted in splashes of velvety golden red hues, expanding vastly from one side of the horizon all the way across. The deserted road stretched out into the unknown with bare trees in their late decomposing state accompanying the lonely stillness. Autumn was a time interpreted as the season of abandonment; the leaves withered, tragically detaching itself from its branch, left to suffer on the lonely cold ground. No one to remember its name. No one to remember its purpose. No one to remember what it possibly could have blossomed into.

Along these gloomy twilight embracing the firmament, a small bus strode its way towards a destination that would soon change the life of the chosen players. A chance to participate in an upcoming reality variety show was surprising. The top twelve students of their campus getting selected was uncanny. But a chance to win a billion dollar prize money, now that was spectacular.

The atmosphere in the bus itself was rather quiet with barely anyone chatting. They all recognized each other. In fact, their status as anything but mere strangers was what made the entire bus ride somewhat suffocating. Forget about the jolly school trips portrayed in movies, reality was much harsher.

"Yes! I won!" A guy with dark chestnut colored hair spoke. His hairline parted on the side, bangs falling lusciously above his right eye. His body started doing some celebratory dance from side to side.

"Jay Fowler, you cheated!" Natasha Heath proclaimed and took the phone from his hand to have a try at the game they were playing. Her silky dirty brown hair formed a curtain to cover half her face as she bend down to play. Her long fingers gracefully tapped on several keys on the screen, and even a movement as simple as that showcased her elegance as a theatre arts major focusing in contemporary dance.

"Hey, no need to use my full name. Sometimes, desperate situations call for desperate measures," Jay grinned at her.

The two of them were the only noisy ones among the twelve, constantly chatting to keep away the boredom.

"Yes, mom, I am fine. It will be alright." On the other side, Ginny Hale was busy reassuring her parents of her safety. She shut off her phone afterwards and tucked her semi wavy dark locks behind her ear, letting those golden highlights fall. She was a grown up, but her parents continued to treat her as a child due to her naivety. Choosing to major in music was perhaps the only time she was allowed to decide something for herself.

"They're just worried. We'll be here for more than two weeks I've heard," the girl beside her spoke. Shirley Gibson was her name, and she was notorious for siding with the parents or teachers whenever an important issue was brought up. Her hands gathered the long streaks of her dark ash brown hair and tied it into a high and neat ponytail.

"Two weeks?" The delightful girl from behind halted the munching of her chips, licked her fingers clean, and proceeded with her shock. Ashlyn Reed placed her abundant stash of snacks aside, swung her silky dark chocolate hair back, and leaned forward to the two. "I only brought one pair of jeans and three different tops."

"Worst comes to worst, you can walk around the place with no pants. We won't mind," Mark Pratt spoke with a grin creeping on his lips. With his blond hair and half shaved head from the side, the math genius resembled a complete pervert. The girls all threw him a dirty look.

"I second that," Oliver Collins raised his hand in the air and began to laugh. His dark bangs moving along to his spastic movements.

"Ollie!" Shirley was already using that strict tone and narrowed her eyes like a good parent. Being more than mere acquaintances suddenly had no perks. "This is going to be broadcasted, so they won't even allow that."

"Okay, I take it back then." Oliver was quick to change his mind. Indecisive.

As other girls whined out a protest, Bree Summers was the only one to remain calm in her seat, shaking her head out of shame. "At least have some decency," she muttered with a frown.