The Mafia House

Chapter 1

Cold. It was very cold. As if I was laying on ice, yet the room was warm, cold. Only the left side of me was on a cold hard floor, which what I assumed was tile. I couldn't open my eyes. Each time I tried they just fell back down again. Like my eyes were tired, but my body was wide awake.
         Just then I hear a loud scream. "Haaaaaaaaaa huuuuu haaaaa" deep breathes were in between each scream. I could tell she was crying in the process. Now I really want to get up. Why is there a screaming woman, why can't I get off this fucking cold floor? What if someone is dead?What if I'm next? 
       Just then my eyes flash open. All I could see was white. My vision slowly started to become clear. I sit up and clench my head. It felt like someone hit me with a bat. "Shit,  where am I?" I ask breathing in through my teeth. Gaining consciousness, the pain starts to get worse. I open my eyes again, the sight almost killing me, for I am terrified.
       Twenty other either unconscious or dead people on the floor, except for the girl who is on her feet screaming. She's a light shade of brown and has dark iron curled hair. Seems to be either seventeen or eighteen.
        "You! Who are you? Where the fuck are we?" She starts screaming these questions at me like I could know anymore than she.
          " Look I don't know anything ok! I swear. I'm just as clueless as you." I say as calm as possible. She runs over and grabs my shoulders.Just then she starts screaming again. "What do we do? What the fuck are we supposed to do?" She screams at while shaking me.
        "Hey hey calm down. Let's just try and wake up more people." I suggest to her. Just then, another loud scream comes from behind me. "W-w-where am I? What the fuck? Who did this?"  Tears were welling up in his eyes. He was a  bit younger than the brown girl and I. Maybe about sixteen.
          " Shit shit shit!" He starts yelling, now actually crying. "I can't fucking see."He must be looking for his glasses, I thought. I stand up and look to my right to see a pair of thick black glasses. I pick them up and try to give them to the blind Asian boy. I put the glasses in his hands to make the situation easier. He fumbles with them for a minute because of how much he's shaking, then is finally able to put them on.
       "Are you okay?" I ask. "Yeah," he replies, " I just got a really big headache." He says rubbing his head violently. " Same," I reply, "I wonder if we all feel that way."
"What's your name?" I ask. " Oh it's, i-it's," he tried to reply, but it looked like he didn't remember. He slid a hand into his hair, like he was stressing to remember his name.
          Having his arm up made me notice something, writing. Like a tattoo on his arm.
         "Hey, aren't you a little young for a tattoo?" I ask. "W-what? I don't have a tattoo." He stuttered. He looked at his arm, like he was worried his mom would scold him about it. " D-David. It says David. Maybe that's my name. And below it it says, Vietnamese." He says standing up, adjusting his glasses. "You've got one too," he points out. I look at my arm.
          Noah. "Noah. American."  I say. "Well, h-hey Noah, I'm apparently David." He greets holding out his hand. Of course, I do the nice thing and shake it. He seems like a decent person. A little weak, but decent.
         "Hey fuckers, get over here!"  The brown girls calls to us. She woke up all the other people. Twenty scared or angry people are staring us down, like we could get them out of there.
         We walk over to the large group of people to see if everyone was okay. "Is everyone alright?" I ask. "Other than the bloody headache an' the fact that we ol are in a strange room wi' no doors or windows, yea'  oi think we're ol okay." A girl says with a strange accent. Sounds British to me.
        "Yeah, but none of us can remember our names." A small black boy points out. He looks very young, maybe thirteen or fourteen. "Everyone, look at your arm. There should be a name and a nationality." I pointed out. Everyone looks down at there arm to see their name.
         "Sweet, a tattoo!" A brown Asian boy smirks at his arm. "Also, what kind of a boring name is Boran? Why couldn't I be like, Jake or something?" He says disappointed.
           "Wait, does anyone remember their age?" David asked. Everyone nodded their head. "Yeah, I'm fourteen!" The black boy stated.
             "If everyo' can rememba' their age, can see their name, an' wot they are, why don' we introduce ourselves." The British girl suggests.
"What are we, in kindergarten?" A tan boy spits out at her. " Well, ifs the only thing we can do before we figure out what's going on." A tall girl with black hair explained. "Whoi don' we star' with you, you prick." The British girl spats back at the tan boy. "Fine," he gives in, "My name is," he takes a moment to look at his arm. "I'm Paul. I'm seventeen and I'm German."
"See! Tha' wasn' so hard." The British girl said. "Oi'll go next. Oi'm Freya,Oi'm Twenty-one, an' Oi'm Bri'ish." She introduced. Then the brown girl stepped forward. "Hey, I'm Lola, I'm eighteen, and I'm Mexican." I look over to David as he stepped forward. "H-hey, I'm David, I'm fifteen, and I'm Vietnamese." He said shaking. I could tell he was still scared. Then the black boy began speaking. " Hey, I'm Anthony, I'm fourteen, and I'm African American." He said trying to look happy. It didn't show, but he made an effort. The brown Asian boy began speaking. " Hey guys. Um, I'm Boran, or whatever. I'm thirteen, and I'm Cambodian." He quickly stated. The black haired girl raised her hand, like we were in class or something. "I'm Andrea. I'm seventeen and I'm Romanian." She said very quiet. Everyone seemed very uncomfortable, so I decided to go next. "I'm Noah, I'm nineteen, and I'm American." Just then, a small Asian girl looked at me, like she was asking permission to speak. "Go ahead. It's okay." I cleared up for her. She began to speak. "H-hello, I'm Min-seo. I'm fifteen and I'm Korean." A tall brown Asian boy then took the stage. " Hey, I'm Zach, I'm nineteen and I'm Filipino." Then the names started coming faster. "I'm Inza, I'm sixteen, and I'm Indian." "I'm Leo, I'm twenty, and I'm Chinese." "I'm Luna,  I'm fifteen, and I'm Samoan." " I'm Robert, I'm nineteen, and I'm Puerto Rican." "Oi'm Macy, Oi'm seventeen, an' Oi'm sco'ish." "I'm Abram, I'm Russian, and twenty." " I'm Emilka, I'm fifteen, and I'm Polish." "I'm Enzo, I'm twenty-one, and I'm French." " I'm Rebecca, I'm fourteen, and I'm Scandinavian." " I'm Femi, I'm eighteen, and I'm Egyptian." That was everyone. It was oddly quiet. It was too awkward to say anything. " So now what?" Anthony asked. "I don't know," I replied.
         BOOM! The lights went out. It was completely dark. There were a few screams. Then silence.
        There was a big light that came from behind me. It was a screen. We all walked toward it. It was counting down from three, like an old film. Then twenty people in old clothes were smiling at the screen. "Welcome to Mafia," a woman said. " You may be wondering why you're here. Well, I can tell you that." We all look to each other confused. "All of you have been selected to play a game of Mafia. The game will take as long as you make it. The rules are, follow your roles, and don't get caught murdering. Now time to explain the roles. As soon as you go through this door, you will see three words in front of you. The first one, everyone can see it. The second and third words, you keep to yourself. Trust me, you don't want anyone seeing them." Everyone turned to here a loud noise coming from behind the screen, the door was opening. "There are two serial killers, and one hitman. You all are put into three teams. You will either be in the Mafia, Cult, or as a townsfolk. Which ever team wins, gets to go home. If you team does not win, that means that your whole team is, hahaha, dead." Suddenly I hear Anthony make a whimper noise. "Noah, I don't wanna die." He cried. " Don't worry, I'm sure we'll be on the same team. Then we can win." I reassured. "Hold on! There's one catch," the lady on the screen directed. "Anyone can kill, but the serial killers have to kill. If you do not stick to your role, then you will die. After the murder is committed, then the cops can investigate and let the people vote for who they think is the killer. Whoever gets the most votes,  is executed. Even if their not the killer. If the killer is not caught, then the game still goes on. If your not sure what your role is, don't worry. We will explain once you get that role."
              "Wot a fuckn' load a' bullshi'!" Freya yells. The lady on the screen began to speak again.
               "Alright, stay safe! And welcome to Mafia!" She exclaimed. The screen went up, and a big white light, was shining behind it. Open doors. We all cautiously, walked through,  we all knew what would happen if we played. But what choice did we have.
              That's just it.  We don't have one.
————————————————————————
Hey guys, I'm really excited to get you angry. Be ready because a lot of people die. I don't care if their your favorite, I'll kill them. Anyway. I can't wait to go through an emotional rollercoaster with you guys. Don't worry, I'll be crying with you. Also I drew a picture of Freya so you guys know what she looks like.