The Great Game (2019)

2

"This is more than just a competition, Woods. Ten deceased, remorseful and desperate to get their lives back battle it out in an epic series of games. The prize? Redemption. This is the competition of a lifetime- excuse the pun." Death arches her back forward, propping her elbow against the surface. As she speaks, her eyes shine with unmasked desire and excitement.

"I can't imagine," I drone sarcastically, sliding my arms against the top into two sloppy lines of laziness, "You act like it's so tough to allocate the funds where your boss wants them to go but when you start discussing the competition, you reveal your true maniac-self."

My retort prompts a smirk onto Death's lips. "Well, I must admit that the thought of risk makes me thrilled. It's an instinct that I was just born with, being Death and all."

"Risk?" I shake my head, trying to clear the fuzz of hazy thoughts drifting into my mind at her answer. "What do you mean, risk?"

"Forgive me, I keep forgetting that you aren't an all-knowing vessel of the Universe. What makes the competition so wonderful is how high-stakes it is. Let me explain- there are ten rounds to sum up the entire competition. Each round will have a winner and the winner of the games will get a say in factors of the next round."

The awkward rhythm that my fingers tap out along the wooden grains jerk to a halt as I oull my hands to my lap, struggling to balance comprehending Death's explanation and acting silly.

"I don't understand." I finally decide.

"Okay, here's an example. Person A who wins the first round will be able to affect the second round through his of her opinion- assigning certain weapons to certain participants or assembling the order in which participants will face a round."

My lips part, allowing a shaky breath of disbelief to evaporate against my mouth.

"Please tell me you're narrating your nightmare. What you just said- that's practically cheating. It's just covered up, made to look pretty." I argue.

"Are you scared by not being in control? Because that's just the tip of the iceberg. Being able to continue in the Medium isn't assured once you put yourself down for the games, Woods."

Horror scrapes against my chest, carving out notches of panic that tumbles through my lungs. The sensation makes my arms knock against the table and I can feel the particles of fear spinning through my blood.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you'll get as dead as you can get. You will no longer to exist in the spectrum which is the Medium. Memories and thoughts that you currently have will all disappear." Death replies swiftly, the faltering beam of yellow that slants against her throat winking weakly, as if it can hear her.

"I'll be nothing." Acknowledging the concept is a difficult pill to swallow, one that grates against my throat and solidifies into a lump.

"Exactly." Death beams as if the note of anxiety in my voice is tuneless to her. From the gapping crevices between her folder, she slides out a thin envelope and slides it towards me. The material is faded, a souring yellow that colours the edges. A splotch of blue seal rims the slanting slashes of black and intricately etched along the lapis paint is an animal.

The tidy imprints illustrates a giant bird with its wings spread in mid-soar. There is a steady determination that the elaborate strokes paint in the bird's eyes and as I gaze at the seal, I can't help but find myself in awe of the creature.

"The water phoenix. Your symbol if you choose to participate. All the information is inside. I want your answer by tomorrow, at dawn." Death flashes me a grin as she rises from the chair, preparing for her exit.

"Wait!" I call out, still hovering between the blurry lines of confusion and shock. The colour leaks from my skin when I catch the anticipation on Death's face- something more sinister than genuine and more disturbing than pure joy.

"Why are you giving me this? What makes you think I want to play your game of life?" I demand, a inkling of frustration beginning to thread through my veins.

An amused sigh is left stranded against Death's lower lips as she dips her body suggestively, allowing the shaft of light to bleed right off the curve of her chest. The accentuation of a less mortal feature the flickering yellow creates makes me shrink back.

"I don't just think that you will participate. I know you will. I know every detail about your death, Chase Woods. You can lie to everyone- even the workers here, but you can't fool me. And that's why I'll be receiving a positive answer from you at dawn."

Death's words drive a chill through my bones and a breath is trapped in my chest, suspended and held hostage by fear.

Still, I find the courage to summon the words in my head, to breathe life into the thoughts that criss-cross my brain.

"If I can trick your employees, I'm already one step ahead of you. Find a new thing instead of instilling fear and maybe you'll be more likeable around here." My sneer is an invisible slap that leaves an imprint of shock along Death's face. It contorts with rage and her hands shake by her sides, curling into fists.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Death spits, "That is, if you wake up alive."

"That's right. Because no one tells you that when you die, you don't really die." I manage to slip in just before Death throws the door back, the slam resounding in the room.

Soaking in the silence, I snatch the envelope off the table and tear it open, ripping the seal in two. A handwritten note tumbles out, darkened with a sprawling set of slanted letters and words.

Aw, did you honestly think that I would release such confidential information? I hope you don't go in to the games with that sort of mentality or you might just be the first to go!

Signed, Death.

P.S. Participants number 1, 3 and 10, one of you better win. I have got some serious money riding on the three of you!

Rolling my eyes, I flip the note over to check my number. Stamped in ink that has seeped through the thin material is a scrawny ten.

"Thanks a lot, Death." I mutter darkly just as my eyes met with the swiftly scribbled words below the number.

You're welcome!

Word Count: 1105

A/N: Thanks for reading this chapter. Feedback is encouraged and appreciated.