Empty Chains ✔️ | #ONC2019

| Chapt. Three | Shadowcaster |

Weak links aren't found by leaving the chain alone to rust.

That look - so cold and menacing - haunts my vision even with eyes closed.

Able to dredge up a spare second and quick reflexes, I slip sideways as the dagger slices through air and hooks back towards the user. The dark haired boy is aware enough to stop himself as the point snags into cotton.

Without thinking, I ram him off the platform and use the spare seconds I have to note another route onto the chandelier. A bloody blonde and a psychotic knife-wielder are on my ass, leaving me few options but to risk a jump in the direction I'd once considered a trick.

The faint shimmer from before calls out to me again, hovering off the ground but still potentially offering a landing.

In an hour alone, I had been brought from a peaceful death into this madness. A game of life or death with a kill or be killed set of rules. If tables can grow and walls shift, anything is possible.

I launch myself off the table, flinging all of my weight in the direction of my faith.

Landing on a solid surface, I groan as the air pushes out of me. But this sensation isn't the marble floor. My eyes peek open to reveal a clear substance supporting all of my weight.

My jaw drops in pure astonishment.

In fact, I am higher off the ground than before with four other contestants watching. They're horrified by something, but it doesn't faze me.

Just like the tireless boy crumbled on the ground, I keep trying. Gathering my bearings, I steady myself with arms spread out and refuse to look down. Before me, the bound metal shivers slightly with differing wisps of shadow and gusts of wind. Thick and well crafted, it can surely support my weight.

I pretend I'm eight again, leaping like I did so many times in gymnastics and holding onto the swinging frame for dear life.

The reapers below seldom speak, let alone breathe. Death watches everyone with a calm, calculated eye.

Several others below are minutes away from grabbing their Crystals. Most of them weren't stupid enough to follow me and try to take away my thought process.

My arms shake and tremble under the strain of every eye, my body complaining horribly. I pull myself up just enough to grip the center chain in my fingers, throwing my free hand up as a last resort and claiming the highest gem.

Faint tingles like buzzing little atoms fizzle against my skin when I blink. The transition is instantaneous. One moment, I prepare for a fateful fall. The next, I'm swaying beside Demetri with a dark, pulsing stone nestled in my palm. It glints in the firelight as if it were a beacon.

He reaches out to balance me, resting a hand on my elbow to make sure I don't fall.

"Easy does it," he chuckles.

I glare up at him, his skin warm to the touch and strangely relaxing. "I'm fine."

Demetri nods, the sharp tone washing off as if I hadn't said anything to begin with. Regret sinks into my stomach when I remember how his previous charge only ever addressed him as Asshole. I didn't want to be that person, reaper or no.

A few others appear within the next few moments. The transition isn't as smooth for everyone. The bloody blonde is panting when she's thrust onto the floor with a gem in her fist and a man off the right lands on his head. The sobbing boy appears at Atticus' feet vomiting.

The sound alone makes me nauseous.

The reaper appears to agree, leaning away and grimacing. Everyone in the room is clearly disgusted.