Someone kicks me and I growl, forcing my eyes open. That did a lot. I think bitterly, slowly sitting up in the pitch blackness that surrounds me and whoever just fucking attacked me. "O-Oh." They say. I hear them shift as I drag my fingers along the ground, frowning at the prospect of us being outside. It feels like dirt. I yawn and sit on my shins for a moment, brushing my hands on my jeans before standing. Someone touches my face and throat with either hand, and I snap my jaw at them. Their thumb brushes my teeth and I'm beyond pissed now. "Holy shit!" I exclaim comically. "Why are your hands are so salty?!" Laughter. At least three other people, putting aside the stranger that had so rudely kicked me and myself. "So there's someone else, I guess." The person nearest mumbles. "Good! You're all mentally present!" A female voice suddenly calls, resonating through what sounds like a blown out speaker. Vermilion light floods the air and I blink rapidly to adjust. Then my heart swells and I clamp my hands over my mouth.
Rob Cantor, the man closest to me, frowns in concern and steps towards me. I'm assuming he had been the one to kick me. I practically buzz with excitement as I look around at the four other men. They're all here! I let out a sound between a moan and a squeal, beyond excited and maybe even happy about this. But they all look...scared? This makes me growl again, though in a more protective manner. They should be happy, dammit! Rob steps forward, idly wrapping his arms around me and shushing me soothingly as he rubs my back and looks around. I cling to him as well as fight the urge to push him away. Physical affection isn't my favorite. Hell, any affection irritates me, but I've been wanting to meet this asshole for years. I can't bring myself to shove and, possibly, hurt him. So I cling to his fancy undershirt and look around as well. The light seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, the air itself glowing crimson and what looks like flaming embers are dancing in nonexistent wind. I reach out to touch one and Rob grips my wrist, pulling it to his chest and sending me a stern look.
Huffing, I begin to writhe in his grasp. He releases me and the men all walk over, their respective colors on them in one way or another. Rob's leather belt is checkered in black and yellow, Ross dawns a necklace with a grey stone, Joe is wearing a ruby button-up, Andrew a grey and green hoodie, and Zubin's shoelaces and bracelets are a lovely shade of navy. At least, they would be, if not for the horrid coloring of the air. The female voice echoes again and I look around for the source. "Welcome! In this game, you must find your way out of this maze. You are at the center and must be the last one standing to win! The winner receives a grand prize and, as a little extra nudge to participate, gets to keep their entire mind! Good luck and have fun!" There's a brief static before everything becomes silent once more. Absently, I reach out for Rob and hold onto him, my fear bubbling in my chest. A bubble bursts and I wince. "What the Hell does that mean?" Zubin breathes, turning in a slow circle. The ground is indeed dirt, and Ten-foot-tall hedges form a square around us. There are Six archways in the thick plants, each one marked with a different flower color. Black, red, yellow, green, blue, and grey.
I'm more inclined to the black roses, so I walk towards them and pick one. I turn to see that the men have all followed me, looking intrigued and nervous. I hold out the flower for Joe and he takes it with a smile, clearly trying to ease himself by focusing entirely on the plant. But, even as we all watch, the petals wilt and begin to mold, soon fading to nothing but dust and dissolving entirely. My lips part and I shudder. The ground starts rumbling and the walls begin to move. The other five archways become obscured by quickly growing vines and my breath hitches. The men move past me, Ross anxiously tugging on my wrist until he gives up and picks me up. I'm too stunned to do much except hold onto him as he runs through the path marked by the noir roses. I watch in shock as the vines block the bath behind us and the flowers die. The green leaves rustle lightly as the rumbling stops. I'm set down and Ross takes my hand. He's treating me like a child, but I'm too anxious to notice much of anything. We look at each other, all at a complete loss as to what to do, before Joe takes the initiative and begins walking.
