The Great Game (2019)

3

The Medium's dark. With a cloak of nothingness thrown over a lay of land, the thin strands of wavering lights attached to the little infrastructure developed wink out of existence. I shiver and draw one arm over my chest, letting the other free hand rest along the linen of my jean pocket. Where the flat cut end of the envelope protrudes is a think wrinkle, fleshed out in a white bump. My touch feels almost too careless for something that will weigh in on my life and the iciness grows, with the merciless wind slashing at my face.

Maybe there's a way to escape. Maybe I don't have to be subjected to becoming a factor of live entertainment. My heart beat speeds up at this thought and my head turns almost involuntarily, as if understanding the shaky thrill in my words.

"I know what you're thinking."

The scream is inevitable. It rips through my throat, a noise of pure terror that pierces the surroundings and flare out, sharper than the diluted yellow rays that emerge through the midnight darkness.

"Goodness, anyone ever told you that you scream like the Medium's house pet?"

Annoyance tunnels through my veins as I raise one foot and bring it down, hard. The impact sends a jolt of electricity through my heel and leaves a burning sensation but it's nothing compared to the humiliation burning my face.

"Death, you freaking stalker! Show your cowardly face!"

A moment of silence ensues and I bring my arms across my chest, letting my feet lapse into a steady movement of rapid taps.

"... I wouldn't call myself a stalker, per se. I'm more of... an active spectator."

"Do I honestly look as if I care?" I demand.

Continued silence.

Finally, where the pale illumination of distant lights glow, a faint outline starts to thicken. There is a hint of a shimmer as the thin contour lines become more defined and within seconds, Death stands before me.

"Did you like my little message?" Death asks.

I roll my eyes and draw out the envelope from my pocket. "You mean the bet, right?"

"No. I'm talking about the payment for electricity bills that you have yet to settle. Did you not see it? It was marked in red."

"Funny, Death. It's not like there's much electricity around here."

"I know you're trying to have a go at me but my feelings aren't hurt." Death and I fall into a steady saunter and my accommodation lies just within plain sight.

A small grey building docked with fences that run through the length of the infrastructure embeds itself in the middle of barren land. The fences are docked with razor sharp arrows and wires that loop in a snaking green, silently trailing after each person's move.

"What are you even doing here, anyway? Didn't we just talk?" I ask.

Death nods. "Sure, we did. But after the games and the participants have been announced to the public, people are going to want to take a look at your life- not just anything that they can catch from watching you participate but an insider's view."

"So..." I let my words trail, unable to connect the dots. The thin lines flicker in my mind but the fibres are weakly threaded and the concepts laid out seem foreign to me.

"So I'm collecting footage." Death beams at me as if the answer's more than an answer- it's a joke wrapped up in enigma that she would love for me to solve. I stare at her, at a loss for words.

"You're kidding, right? There are ten other contestants and you just have choose me." My words drip with sarcasm as I shove the envelope back into my pocket. Even though the movement is nothing more than a flippant brush, it feels like the paper is being shredded by my touch.