No Way Out

Chapter 5: Bedroom

Chapter 5: Bedroom

Ally's P.O.V.

"French kill me!" Kazianna's voice, sharp and desperate, sliced through the air. It was a jagged, unexpected plea that sent a jolt of ice through my veins.

My eyes snapped to Kazianna. Was she insane? Delirious? But the unsettling truth was, if French failed to execute the order, the consequences would be dire. Punishment loomed, a dark cloud over us all. And in this place, "punishment" was synonymous with death.

French, seated just a few feet away, looked equally stunned. Her eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were wide with disbelief.

"That guy plays well," I murmured, more to myself than anyone else. It was a pathetic attempt to distract myself from the unfolding horror, a desperate cling to the illusion of normalcy. I was referring to the game master, Simon, whose voice dripped with a chillingly detached amusement.

"Ano?" French finally managed, her voice a strangled whisper.

Even French, hardened by whatever experiences had landed her in this nightmare, was visibly shaken. My anxiety escalated. I didn't know French. I knew no one particularly well in this ghastly game. But the thought of anyone being punished, of anyone's life being extinguished within these walls, choked me.

"I said kill me!" Kazianna screamed, her voice cracking with a volatile mix of fear and defiance. The sound reverberated through the room, silencing the hushed whispers that had been circulating. All eyes turned to the grim tableau playing out between Kazianna and French.

French remained frozen, rooted to her chair. The timer, projected onto the far wall, ticked down relentlessly, each second a hammer blow against my hope. She wasn't going to do it. I could see it in the rigid set of her jaw, the tremor in her hands. She wasn't going to kill Kazianna.

Tears streamed down Kazianna's face, blurring her features into a mask of raw despair. "Please," she choked out between sobs, "Just...get it over with."

"No," French finally said, her voice barely audible. "No, I won't."

We were powerless. French had made her choice. The silence returned, thick and suffocating. French stared at the timer, her gaze locked on the dwindling numbers. The digital display flashed red, then a final, decisive zero.

"Time's up," I whispered, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

My gaze remained glued on French, my heart a frantic drum against my ribs. What would happen now?

A moment later, Simon's voice, smooth and devoid of warmth, echoed through the room. "Sorry, player number 8, you've failed." A collective shudder ran through the assembled players. The air crackled with a palpable tension.

"Because you failed to do what Simon Says," Simon continued, his words like icy needles. "As your punishment, I will choose between you and player number 15 to take the punishment. And it's you, player number..."

The blood drained from my face. My heart leaped into my throat. One of them was going to pay the price for French's defiance. I could barely breathe.

"...Player number 15."

Kazianna. It was Kazianna who would face the consequences. My mouth fell open in a silent gasp. I looked over to Kazianna who was staring at French. There was no anger in her eyes, only sadness.

***

Honey's P.O.V.

I slowly pried my eyelids open.