No Way Out

Chapter 7: Shortest

Chapter 7: Shortest

Marsha's P.O.V.

The musty smell of damp earth and old sweat stung my nostrils. "Where am I?" I whispered, the sound swallowed by the cavernous space. My head throbbed, a dull ache accompanying the disorientation. I pushed myself up, the familiar scratch of the Arshal p.e. uniform against my skin a small comfort in this bizarre place.

It was a gym, but not like any gym I'd ever seen. Instead of polished wood, soft, springy grass covered the floor, stretching to the high, vaulted ceiling. A massive clock, its hands frozen at an indiscernible time, hung precariously above a blinking timer on the stage. My eyes snagged on something pinned to my uniform – a plastic name tag. "Player number 01." A shiver crawled down my spine.

What game? What the hell was going on?

"Hello?!" I shouted, my voice echoing back, hollow and unanswered. Panic tightened its grip.

"Guys, gising," a voice, tinged with exhaustion, cut through the silence. I whirled around.

French. Her face, usually bright and bubbly, was creased with worry. She looked rumpled, as if she'd been sleeping rough. Relief flooded me, quickly followed by renewed confusion.

I stumbled towards her. "Marsha? Anong ginagawa mo rito?" French's surprise was evident, her eyes widening.

"Hindi ko rin alam. Pagising ko nandito na ako," I replied, my voice trembling. My eyes darted around, searching for any clue, any explanation.

"Hey guys, gising na," she said, gently shaking the shoulders of the girls sprawled on the grass beside her. They stirred, groaning and blinking against the dim light filtering through unseen windows.

"What's this place again?" a girl with sharp features and even sharper eyes asked, pushing herself up. Celestria. I recognized her from the name tag. They all had them, pinned to their identical uniforms.

"Ikaw pala 'yong bagong player?" Reixel's voice was flat, assessing. Yes, Reixel. Cool, collected, and always a little intimidating.

"Player? Teka lang, ano ba ang nangyayari?" I asked, my voice rising in pitch. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare.

"Hayst 'di mo nga pala alam kung ano ang nangyari rito," Celestria said, rubbing her temples. "You're in for a treat."

"Guys, this is Marsha, classmate ko," French announced, forcing a wan smile.

"Hi. Nice meeting you," a girl with a gentle face and kind eyes said, offering a small wave. Ally.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" I pleaded, my voice barely whispered. The five girls exchanged a look, a silent conversation passing between them.

"Nasa isang laro tayo, Marsh," French finally said, her voice low and serious.

I stared at her, trying to process the words. My eyes snagged on something else – bandages plastered behind her ear. It looked... raw. "French, anong nangyari sa diyan?" I asked, pointing gingerly.

"It's nothing," she snapped, her cheeks flushing. She quickly looked away, avoiding my gaze.

A low, crackling sound, like a broken radio tuning between stations, reverberated through the gym. We all jolted, turning towards the stage.