CHAPTER 2 - FREEZE TAG

  In the background, Lilly's ramblings continued, trying to grab True's attention, but to no avail. The only thing True could hear was a ringing in his ears, the fast pace of his heartbeat, and the echoing loudness of his thoughts: How could this happen to me? Out of all people to be picked... that stupid old man, that old turtle shell of a man. I hate it here, and if I freeze anyone, what would they say about me? Murderer. Traitor. Loser. Drew might even say...

  But just as True was about to mutter the words, his memories pulled him back. He was at the same dinner table, in the same blurry room, hearing the words "I HATE YOU."

  Lilly's voice cut through his thoughts. "Listen, True, don’t worry about us. Me and Drew can protect ourselves."

  Drew quickly muttered in his thick country accent, "We can."

  Lilly gave him a "are you serious?" look before replying, "YES, we can! I know it’s scary, True, but you were picked for the first game. Go out there and survive. Me and Drew will head farther into town, near the forest. That way, if we get chased, we’ll have the forest and the city to run into. It’s only 30 minutes."

  True, still in disbelief of being picked, nodded with a gulp. Lilly, serious as ever, said with more passion than before, but still caring and calm—almost like a mother telling you to come home before the streetlights turned on—"I’m serious, True. You better not die. You better not lose your soul in this Freeze Tag game."

  True smiled and said, "Me? Never. I’m more athletic than LeBron James in 2018."

  Drew, looking bewildered by that name, uttered the words, "Nah, who dat be?"

  Just as True was about to answer, God's voice boomed in their minds: "Now, taggers head to the center of town. The game begins in 40 seconds."

  True quickly nodded his head. "Guess it’s time for me to go now. You two remember what I said. This game isn’t just tag; it’s mental warfare. I don’t know who you’ll meet out there, but please, be smart and help each other. I know we just met, but I don’t want to lose either of you."

  Lilly nodded, and Drew—well, he kicked a pebble and shrugged, saying with a smile, "Okay, buddy."

  Lilly and Drew ran off towards the edge of the town, and True, still deep in thought, walked toward the center of town.

  As he walked, he glanced up at the singular skyscraper in the city, wondering if anyone would be stupid enough to run all the way up there and hide. As he got closer to the center, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Lincoln—a tall figure with a commanding demeanor, wearing a worn-out military top. He stood there, chest high, with a crazy smile on his face.

  True, still lost in thought and observing his surroundings, didn’t pay much attention to Lincoln’s taunts. But Lincoln’s words were said with a deep, confident, mocking tone, as if speaking to an army general himself. His words went something like:

  "Oh, look, if it isn’t the private runt. You know, when I saw you step to the center and introduce yourself, I smiled. You look just like the type of guy who would die first on the front lines, or worse—clean the bathrooms while the real men fight."

  Unbothered, True kept staring at the ground with a straight face. This infuriated Lincoln even more, not liking the fact that this runt of a private wouldn’t respond to him. But it wasn’t that True wasn’t listening—it was that the words "I hate you" kept echoing in his head, causing him to sit in a trance while his heartbeat drummed louder.

  Fed up, Lincoln spoke again: "HEY, Private. Be ready to kill people. It’s the only way we’ll win this war. I have no time for weak men on my team. I’m here to win this thing and take as many down as I can. Runt, do you understand me?"

  True, who was much smaller than Lincoln, looked up at him, and Lincoln seemed as tall as the skyscraper in the center of town. In his head, True thought, Yeah, then what’s next, Captain? Want me to go put some fries in a bag for you?

  But the only thing that came out of his mouth was a soft, almost defeated, "I... I don’t want to kill anyone."

  The moment the words left his mouth, Lincoln's smile immediately faded. His eyes went cold, his pupils wide. You could see his breath in the cold city air. It was as if Lincoln was a completely different person now.

  Almost too fast to even recognize, Lincoln grabbed True and put him in a tight headlock, lifting him off the ground. True kicked, but Lincoln’s grip was tight. Lincoln’s first words, shouted so close to True’s ears, were:

  "LISTEN TO ME NOW, YOU RUNT! I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU DON’T WANT TO DO! This is war. Matter of fact, I love war. There’s no time to think here. No time to feel. Just do. I’m getting excited just thinking about the frozen bodies of some of the people I’ve seen. Oh, that Nadia girl would look even better frozen... or wait... I know, runt, how about your comrades? That little soldier Drew? Maybe I won’t even freeze him—I’ll just snap his neck. Or even better, that nice-looking one in the pink turtleneck. Her frozen would really make this game amazing."

  Tired of being handled like a child, True pulled his head forward and headbutted Lincoln. Usually, Lincoln would dodge and be aware of someone trying to hurt him, but this caught him by surprise. He didn’t think True had it in him.

  After True said, "Listen, I’m not going to kill anyone in this game, and I won’t let Lilly and Drew get hurt either, so leave them alone," Lincoln, his nose bleeding from the headbutt, didn’t even move from his spot. After letting True go, he just snapped his nose back into place and let out a little laugh.

  "That’s the spirit, kid," Lincoln said with a grin. "But I wouldn’t talk all that talk. You’ll have to get to them first to protect them. And don’t forget—just because the others aren’t taggers doesn’t mean they won’t kill. There’s all types of monsters out in that city and forest."

  Just as True was about to speak, God’s voice boomed: "THE GAME NOW BEGINS."

  With those words, Lincoln’s face straightened, and his bright, giant smile returned as he laughed and ran off.

  True’s first and only goal now was to find Lilly and Drew and protect them. But what he didn’t know was that in these 30 minutes, it wasn’t just Lilly and Drew who would need protection—but he himself as well.

  As soon as True stepped off his spot, he heard the sound of running—crunching leaves. True, hearing the footsteps, thought only one thing: Flight. Without hesitation, he started running as if he were the one being hunted. The only thing he could think while running was, Are you serious? How am I the one running to start the game off? This just isn’t fair. Maybe if I yell "time out," whoever it is will give me a break.

  True looked back. It wasn’t someone who had introduced themselves earlier—this was a new person. True glanced around. The man was the same size as him, maybe his age, wearing a perfectly black buttoned-up shirt, gray slacks, and giant nerd glasses.

  Noticing that, True immediately stopped running and turned around. "Now listen," he said, "I know I look scrawny and weak, but I will not run from someone like you. Bring it on."

  But as soon as True stopped, so did the man. True looked at the man's name tag. It read Cassian. They stood there for a second, wind blowing, both just looking at each other's breath.

  Right as True was about to speak, Cassian held up a finger with a "one second" gesture and messed with his shirt sleeve. "One second, one second," he said with an elegant yet nerdy tone. "I must fix this awful sleeve before it messes up my perfect outfit."

  True stared, squinting his eyes. Are you serious? I’m out of breath, scared for my life, and this guy, Cassian, is trying to fix his sleeve?

  Cassian, after fixing his sleeve, said, "Now, my fine friend, your running form looked off. You have to run with your head perfectly upright to get maximum performance. Also, True, you really need more exercise, or you’ll just never survive these games. Hi, I’m Cassian, the perfect man, the perfect being."

  True, now more annoyed than anything, slapped his head. "Are you serious? This is a life-and-death game, and you're trying to give me pointers on how to run for my life?"

  Cassian nodded his head enthusiastically. "Why, yes, my dear friend. Us small fries—or what that Lincoln doofus called you, 'privates'—must stick together. See, I know you want to save your friends, and I, my friend, have the perfect strategy for you."

  True, even more weirded out by this man named Cassian, asked, "Okay, so what’s your bright plan, my dear Sir Cassian?" His tone was dripping with sarcasm.

  Cassian smiled, then refixed his sleeve again before replying, "Well, it’s simple. We’ll perfectly go straight through the middle of town and get to your friends at the top of the tower."

  True, facepalming, said, "Now, why in the world would we go through the most visible part of town and not the forest, where there’s cover?"

  Cassian wiped his glasses, then replied, "Do you really think the forest is safe? Why do you think that clown Carter went there? Or the twisted preacher? They all know where they’re going. Also, do you think God would give us a city just to roam the forest for thirty minutes? Look, my friend, at the forest walls. Don’t you notice something?"

  True, not really wanting to look away from Cassian, stared at the forest walls. His shock grew as he noticed something strange. The forest was shrinking, and something was collapsing outside of it.

  Cassian continued, "Yes, God isn’t stupid. He knew people would run to the forest, so he decided to cave it in slowly. In about 20 minutes, the only building left in this disgusting environment will be, well... the tallest one, of course—the skyscraper."

  True, now even more concerned, realized he didn’t have 30 minutes to find Lilly and Drew—he had about 20 minutes left. His determination intensified.

  Looking at Cassian, he said, "Okay, okay, but if you try anything, I will freeze you."

  Cassian, with a perfect smile after fidgeting with his sleeve again, replied, "Of course, my dear friend. Follow me. I’ve perfectly laid out the city with my perfectly organized memory."

  True, thinking He must be a perfect idiot. Also, if his memory was perfect, he wouldn’t need to play this stupid game, started following behind Cassian. He noticed that somehow, some way, Cassian smelled good. Man, this guy even smells good... but man, does he look like a dork.

  Cassian then said, "You don’t have to say my full name, actually. For some reason, I would prefer you call me Cass."

  True, curious, asked, "Why, Cass? Don’t you think your name is perfect?"

  Cassian paused for a second, then said, "For some reason, my heart tells me Cass is perfect, my dear friend."

  They continued walking for what seemed like forever, but as True was about to turn the corner to catch up to Cassian, he was grabbed and pulled into the nearest building. True was about to yell until he noticed it was Cassian who had grabbed him, putting his hand over True’s mouth.

  "Don’t touch me," Cassian whispered, "Remember, if you touch me with your filthy hands, my friend, I’ll freeze you. Also, remain quiet. People are here." True, eyes wide and back against the wall, couldn't see who it was, but he could tell by the low, calm demeanor of the voice saying, "God has blessed us with this game. May He bless all of you and cleanse your spirits, boys. I know you're near. Do you think it's holy to hide from an innocent priest?"

  With that, True knew it was Viktor. True thought, Why would we hide from him? He's a holy man; he wouldn’t hurt anyone. He thinks this game is a blessing by God.

  True looked up at Cass, his face serious, with a hint of shock. The cold floor of the empty, plain, gray house building was freezing to the touch. True wondered what was happening. Why was Cass so afraid of this old priest? But then, as soon as he wondered that, more footsteps were heard. True nudged Cass and whispered, “Move, let me see.”

  Cass moved without taking his eyes off the empty road where Viktor stood, but he wasn’t alone. He walked with two sticks from the forest, somehow tied together, holding them out in front of him like he was trying to exercise demons from the air. At the same time, he was looking up at the skyscraper. But True knew that wasn’t what was bothering Cass. No. When True noticed it, his eyes lit up with shock and disgust.

  Coming around the corner, shuffling her little feet, was a young girl about Drew's age, holding a teddy bear with a bright red button on it. The little girl was pale and skinny, wearing a pastel green dress with white frills, torn and covered in mud. You wouldn’t know if it was from before the game or from the forest, but that wasn’t the most shocking part. The preacher had taken what looked like his belt from around his pants and wrapped it around the little girl’s neck, holding it in his other hand as if she were a dog.

  True thought, What? Why would he? Should I even be shocked? I know what some priests in my world would be into, but even in this hellhole, this is too much.

  True looked at the girl’s tag—it read Emily. She was slowly walking behind the preacher, head down like a dog who had just gotten in trouble for using the bathroom in the house. Her dress clashed with the colors of the dark, plain, gray, cold, foggy city. As True and Cass watched her shuffle behind Viktor, they couldn’t help but feel sick.

  True whispered to Cass, “Hey, we gotta get her away from him.”

  Cass just stared, an angry look on his face, right in the direction of the girl and the preacher. He then whispered back, “No. It’s none of our business. We have a perfect plan. We have to stick to it. No use in getting our hands dirty with those two.”

  True was about to reply when a sharp and gentle "Ow!" was heard coming out of Emily’s mouth. With a calm but booming accent, Viktor said, “Keep up now, devil. Soon you will be exercised, cleansed, and saved by mine and God’s hands. Your filthy soul will not rot this plain for much longer.”

  Emily, still looking at the ground, responded with a soft, “I’m sorry, Mr. Preacher. I won’t do it again. I’m just a little hungry, that’s all.”

  Viktor, with a quick motion, smacked the little girl right across the face with a force that knocked her teddy bear out of her hands and onto the cold sidewalk. Viktor then said, “Look at me when you talk, demon. You will see God soon. Your lies disgust me. Hiding behind such falsehoods should make you ashamed to even ask for food from the mighty God.”

  This made True even angrier, to the point where he clenched the window sill and almost stood up to confront Viktor. But as he stood, he felt a firm grip touch his shoulder—it was tough and rugged, almost perfect. It was Cass, holding True down while shaking his head in a "no" expression. This infuriated True.

  He whispered in an irritated tone, “Cass, if we don’t help her, she will die! This is wrong for so many reasons! I don’t care if this is a death game; it’s wrong to hit a defenseless little girl!”

  Cass replied, “Listen, don’t forget—who are we here to save, her or Drew? Think, my friend. He is still bigger than both of us. Let’s say you go out there, attack him, and save the little girl. But with that amount of noise, the whole game will hear you. The forest is almost gone, and we probably have 10 minutes left in the game. We have to reach the skyscraper before anyone else so we can save your friends. It’s the perfect plan.”

  True, clenching his teeth while Cass had his hands on his shoulder, moved his shoulder, knocking Cass's hand off and said, “I don’t care. As of this moment, that little girl needs help. I’m no pushover, no matter how sarcastic I look. Listen, we will be the first to the tower, but right now, she needs our help. Sometimes plans need a pivot, and right now, she needs me. Maybe I can scare him away since I’m a tagger.”

  Cass looked angry after hearing the word pivot. He was fidgeting with his sleeve again, staring at True, not in an understanding way, but as if he was calculating something in his head.

  As True waited, he glanced out the window again in shock to see the only thing outside the window was the little girl’s bear. Out of anger, True rushed outside, leaving Cass alone, and grabbed the little girl’s bear on the cold sidewalk. True vowed to himself, I don’t care how evil this game gets, I will not be a monster like the rest of these people. I won’t sit by and watch others get hurt.

  But as True thought that, he heard footsteps behind him. Calm and confident, True thought it was just Cass, so he said, “Cass, listen, we need to come up with—”

  But in a cold, calm reply, a voice unrecognizable, low and muffled as if it was behind a mask, with a thick German accent, said, “You really should be more careful. I could kill you and rid you of your plague now, but if you don’t make a sound, I shall not. Now listen, I’ve been watching you for a while now, from the shadows.”

  The presence of the man behind him—or whatever it was—was colder than the city and darker than the night. He spoke with a calmness even scarier than Lincoln’s. Just by this man’s words, True could tell he was not a normal man. No, scratch that—he was a monster.

  In his head, True thought, There’s no way out of this. How could I let my emotions put me in such a stupid position?

  The man spoke again, as if reading True’s mind. “This was a stupid move. You must be smarter, filth. That priest is a nasty man, but don’t let a small disease fool you into missing the bigger one. Just know you have no allies in this game, True. I’ll let you go now, but soon we will meet again. It is not your time to be cured. Return her the bear and save your friends. They’ve met someone of great danger to them. And do not turn around for 10 whole seconds. I’ll count.”

  True’s heart raced with every second that passed.

  “1... 2... 3...” all the way to 10.

  Then he turned around. The streets were clear. Nothing to be seen.

  True thought, Wow, this is crazy. Who was that, and "cured"? What was he talking about? Lilly and Drew have met someone dangerous? I hope they're okay.

  Then, out of nowhere, Cass popped up from the window of the building they were hiding in and said, “True, my friend, I’ve come up with the perfect plan to save that little girl from the priest.”

  True, still in shock, ran over to the building, not wanting to be caught outside again. Cass, noticing True’s shock, asked, “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

  True, in annoyance, said, “You didn’t see the man behind me outside? You didn’t notice how long I was out there?”

  Cass shook his head no, after fidgeting with his sleeve again. “No, my friend. All I know is that you said, ‘Let’s pivot the plan,’ and then you looked out the window, said the girl and the priest were gone, ran outside, and I stayed and came up with a plan on how to save her... Uh, what’s her name again? Emily?”

  True couldn’t believe it. Did Cass not remember that he froze for at least two minutes? Man, everyone in this game has to be insane.

  As True was about to tell Cass about the figure behind him with the ice-cold presence, God boomed, “And with that, 10 minutes remain. Oh, and I see you’ve all noticed—the forest is no more, and the city is now the only place left to hide. Hope you didn’t think the forest would be your safety. And with that said, let me speak to the leaders of this match. As of now, it is only one tagger winning—Lincoln, with one freeze.”

  As those words echoed in True’s mind, the worst thoughts played over. No, did Lincoln find Lilly and Drew? Was that who the man was?

  ” As God’s words echoed in True’s mind, the worst thoughts began to swirl. No, did Lincoln find Lilly and Drew? Was that who the man behind me was talking about? Are they already dead? But before True could spiral further, God spoke again, his voice as chilling as before.

  "That leaves 15 remaining."

  True quickly calmed himself, trying to push the panic aside. No, he would have killed both of them. I refuse to believe one died without the other.

  Cass’s voice broke through his thoughts. “True, I hope it wasn’t any of your comrades who passed.”

  The simple statement gave True a strange sense of comfort, but the weight of what was happening still hung heavy in the air. Then God spoke again, his tone still amused, almost playful.

  “Oh, and a non-tagger has one point as well.”

  Cass, sounding a little shocked, turned to True. “A non-tagger? Wow, they must truly be brave. I guess some people really value gaining their memories back—to unfreeze someone.”

  True nodded absently, focusing on God’s next words. He was still processing the weight of the game, but the mention of the tower made him feel uneasy.

  “Now,” God’s voice boomed, “the final stretch of the game begins. Good luck, and my advice is—get to that tower first and hold down a floor if you want to live.”

  Cass stood up with a confident smile, like he’d been waiting for these exact words. “That’s exactly what we needed to hear.”

  True stared at him, baffled. Why does he think this is good news?

  "Why do you say that?” True asked, his voice edged with confusion. “Isn’t everyone knowing that the tower is the last safe spot a bad idea?”

  Cass shook his head, eyes gleaming with a cold, calculated intensity. "No. It’s the perfect opportunity because I have a plan. And here’s what it is…”

  True tried to focus, but his mind was racing. He needed to listen. Cass had a knack for pulling off the impossible, and right now, they needed something bold, something that would work.

  Cass’s words were quick, precise, but they felt like an eternity in the silence. True nodded as Cass laid out the strategy, absorbing every detail, the weight of the decision hanging between them. After what felt like hours, they both agreed, sealing the plan with a firm nod and a simultaneous, "YEAH!"

  True gave Cass a grin, though his heart was hammering. "That plan is amazing, Cass. We can do this."

  But just as the words left his mouth, the ground beneath them trembled. The building next door buckled and collapsed with a deafening crash, a thunderous thud that shook the air and rattled his bones. It was as if the city itself had just decided to give up.

  True stood frozen for a moment, staring at the empty space where the building had once been. The grey, oppressive skyline behind them seemed to fade into nothingness. No noise. No movement. Just an eerie void that stretched for miles.

  True’s breath caught in his throat. That must be what it’s like to have your soul erased, he thought, the terrifying image of a blank, hollow existence creeping over him like a cold shadow. A deep, paralyzing fear crawled up his spine. The city wasn’t just dying—it was disappearing.

  Then, a scream—a young girl’s scream—shattered the silence. It was high-pitched, desperate, and full of terror.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Cass snapped back to reality with a shout. “It came from the sky scraper! It has to be the little girl!” He was already moving, but he turned back to True, urgency flashing in his eyes. “Remember, True—stick to the plan. My life’s still important to me. Don’t forget it.”

  True gave a sharp nod, still trying to shake the lingering dread from his bones. The scream echoed in his ears, sending a jolt through him. They couldn’t waste time. Not now.

  Without another word, he and Cass darted from the safety of the dilapidated building, their feet pounding against the cracked, uneven road as they rushed toward the tower.

  As soon as they cleared the building’s threshold, it crumbled behind them. The sudden implosion made a sound like a vacuum sucking up the last remnants of dust. The world around them felt as if it was collapsing, piece by piece.

  True’s chest burned, and the cold air stung his eyes, blurring his vision, but he kept running, pushing himself harder. His legs felt like lead, but his mind was fixed. The tower. Get to the tower.

  Cass's voice cut through the wind. “Yeah, now that’s the perfect form, True!” His breath was ragged, but there was a laugh in his voice despite it all. "You're getting faster."

  Their feet slapped against the asphalt with a rhythmic thud, each footfall matching the frantic pounding of their hearts. The noise was deafening in the stillness of the dying city. True’s focus was sharp—this was it. If we don’t make it to that tower first, we might as well call our lives gone.

  Cass’s voice came again, more urgent. “True, run faster! You hear that? They’re behind us!”

  True barely had time to respond before a faint sound reached him—footsteps, breaking glass, a series of thudding noises behind them. His heart skipped. He was too focused on his own labored breaths and the faint, tortured screams from inside the tower to hear them clearly at first. But now, with adrenaline flooding his veins, he turned his head, searching for the source of the sound.

  Footsteps.

  Cass was right—they were closing in.

  True’s stomach churned as he saw a shadow move in the distance, a figure he knew all too well. The manic, high-pitched laugh that followed made his blood run cold. Carter. It was Carter, and he wasn’t alone.

  True dodged a light pole, narrowly avoiding a nasty collision, and caught up with Cass. “We’re one street away!” he gasped, his voice rough with exhaustion.

  Cass, always the picture of control, didn’t slow down. His strides were steady, powerful, even as the sweat poured down his face. He nodded without saying a word, but his focus was unshakable.

  The tower was so close now. They couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when everything was at stake.

  True's heart was pounding, and every motion felt like it drained more energy from him. From his vantage point, the towering building swayed side to side. Every blink felt heavier, and each breath hurt. True knew he and Cass would make it, but what would they do if the tower door was locked by the priest? With that thought, True yelled to Cass, “Wait, Cass, what if the priest locked the tower door?”

  Cass, still focused and sweating, didn’t show it outwardly, but True could tell, even with his calm demeanor, that he was exhausted. Cass, holding his glasses with one hand, looked over and shrugged. “Well, my friend, I guess we'll find out.”

  True, now only a few strides away from the door, could hear the sound of the others' footsteps behind them. Nadia, running to their right, yelled with her thick accent, “Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Please don’t leave a lady like me alone!”

  As they got closer to the tower, the roads around them began to converge. Cass looked to the other side and saw Elliot and Theo running side by side, bumping into each other as they tried to outpace one another. Theo’s deep, smooth voice called out, “Hey, man, don’t hit the spiked fro!”

  Elliot, intense with his hoodie up, took a breath and yelled back with a calmer demeanor, “You’re bumping me, you idiot! I’ve been on this road. You decided to come down my path, and now, thanks to you, my cover’s blown! Those brats are gonna beat us to the tower and lock us both out!”

  True’s fear surged until he heard the little girl scream again, “No, please, no! Not again, not again, don’t do it!” Her scream pushed True into overdrive. With his heart racing, sweat pouring down his face, and dread flooding his mind, True found a second wind, racing ahead of Cass.

  "Please don’t be locked. Please don’t be locked," he thought as he reached for the handle. It was cold, shiny, and brand new. His reflection stared back at him in the glass. Cass, now just behind him, hand on his glasses, yelled, “Open it now!”

  True twisted the lock. The door creaked open. His heart dropped. He ran inside the building, Cass right behind him.

  The building was huge. Office desks cluttered the space, each holding computers and office supplies, but no cords, no lights—just darkness and stairs. No elevator in sight. Barely catching his breath, True heard Cass say, “There’s no lock. Help me push this desk in front of the door.”

  True hesitated. “Wait! I don’t want them to die out there. What if Lilly and Drew are still—”

  Cass quickly interrupted, “There’s almost a 100% chance, my friend. Every building has a back door, and God wouldn’t let there be only one entrance. I’m sure your friends will make it in if they’re still alive.”

  True thought, Great. What a way to calm my nerves, old pal.

  The sounds of everyone outside were growing closer. True quickly went over to the nearest office desk. He noticed Cass had already found a desk that appeared mostly made of metal. It wasn’t bolted down, and its sharp corners would be painful to bump into. Well, at least if you didn’t want to go home early, True thought as he pushed it.

  The desk was heavy—almost felt like a ton—heavier than the wooden dresser they’d pushed earlier. But they kept going, huffing and puffing. “Man, you’d think we were world-class athletes after this one,” True said, still pushing. “We better get a gold medal for this.”

  Cass didn’t even chuckle. He was pushing the desk in an odd form—his hands on the desk, but his head was pressed against it. True was confused. No way that’s the perfect form. The desk scraped against the marble floor with a screech that made True grit his teeth, worse than a teacher clapping to get the class's attention.

  As they neared the door, True saw Nadia waving her hands and yelling, “Please, my dear boys, don’t leave me out here with these beasts! Don’t lock the door!” True did feel bad for her, but he knew even a second of that door being open meant—

  Just then, the figure who was as close to the door as Nadia yelled with a loud laugh, “Yeah, boys, you wouldn’t lock the door on a lady... and your old pal Carter, here, would you?”

  This made True and Cass push harder, their muscles aching. Cass’s head was throbbing, but they didn’t stop. As they reached the door, so did Carter, Theo, Elliot, and Nadia, all yelling and banging at the door. Carter hit it the hardest, being the first to reach it. The force of his blow echoed through the room with a thundering crash, making True and Cass step back, catching their breath in shock.

  True looked around, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a faint light at the top of the tower. It was the only source of illumination in the entire building. He squinted, trying to make out the details, and saw it—a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling.

  That’s where we have to go, he thought. But without an elevator, this is going to suck. And who knows if anyone’s already up there?

  His gaze shifted to the spiral staircase, which wrapped around the room, rising floor after floor. The sound of heavy banging and knocking echoed from outside the building, adding to the mounting tension. He turned to Cass, who had his hands behind his head, breathing heavily.

  “Hey, Cass,” True called, his voice cutting through the noise. “We need to hit those stairs. I know our bodies feel like shit, but... like you always say, we have a plan.”

  Cass wiped dust from his face and adjusted his collar. “You’re right. A perfect plan,” he said, his laugh rich and confident despite their situation. His eyes scanned the building. “Okay, a lot of floors, but at least we’re safe from the collapsing—for now.”

  The banging outside began to quiet down, and True took a breath, wondering if the others had decided to look for another way in.

  “Hmm... maybe they figured it’s best to look for another option inside,” True mused.

  Cass, still catching his breath, glanced around thoughtfully. “You know, I’ve noticed something. We don’t need food or water, but we still get tired. I don’t know why, but I wonder... do you think we still bleed?”

  True’s mind flashed to Lincoln’s bloodied nose after their last encounter. He responded quietly, his voice cold. “Yeah. We bleed.”

  The echo of the empty tower answered him in silence. But then, without warning, a loud, thunderous crash broke the stillness, sending a wave of dread through the room.

  Cass pointed toward the window. “Look, True.”

  True turned, his head snapping with a thud as he followed Cass’s gaze. The sight that greeted him made his blood run cold.

  Carter, of all people, stood by the window, a brick in his hand. With each strike, the glass shattered more, and the sound made both True and Cass flinch, the dread in their chests growing heavier with every blow. Carter wasn’t tall, nor did he seem strong, but his energy, that unnerving, playful attitude, and his odd build—a shape that made him look almost like a bloated balloon—sent shivers down True’s spine.

  True’s voice was strained with the weight of his fear. “Do you think he could break through?”

  Cass shook his head slowly. “No. It’s too thick. The only way he could get through is if he hits it with double the force.”

  But as Cass spoke, they both realized something. What truly unnerved them wasn’t that Carter was crazy—it was what he was willing to do, with a smile on his face.

  Carter raised the brick again, this time slamming it against the wall with such force that blood began to trickle down his face. The glass caved in further, the sound echoing through the tower. Carter’s voice rang out, twisted and cheerful. “Hey, guys! I think you forgot about me. Don’t worry—I’ll bring a prize!”

  Cass’s voice snapped with urgency. “Come on, True! We have to run!”

  Without another word, they both bolted for the stairs, knowing each step would feel like razor blades, but knowing they had no choice but to climb.

  True’s legs burned as he pushed himself up each step, his body protesting with every movement. The stairwell was narrow, the walls closing in around him as the sound of pounding footsteps reverberated in the air. His breath came in ragged gasps, his heart hammering in his chest like a drumbeat, echoing through the tower. Sweat stung his eyes, but he didn’t dare pause to wipe it away. He couldn’t—he had to keep climbing, had to get higher, away from the madness below.

  Behind him, Cass’s steps were steady, but True could hear the strain in his breathing, the quiet grunt as he fought to keep pace. Each footfall seemed to shake the stairs beneath them, the metal groaning under their weight, threatening to collapse with every movement. The walls felt like they were pressing closer, and the spiraling staircase only made it worse—twisting up endlessly, one turn after another, like a cruel mockery of escape.

  True’s legs felt like lead, but he pushed forward, his shoes slapping against the worn metal steps. His head was pounding now, and his throat burned from the effort. He didn’t know how much farther they had to go. The light above seemed to mock him, so far out of reach, but he couldn’t stop—he couldn’t afford to.

  “Come on!” Cass called, his voice cutting through the darkness ahead. He was gaining ground, his pace unbroken. “We’re almost there!”

  True gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the ache in his muscles, the weight of fear pressing on his chest. He could feel the echo of footsteps behind them, too close for comfort, but he dared not look back. Every breath felt like fire, each inhale more painful than the last, but the thought of Carter—of what might be waiting behind them—spurred him onward.

  The stairs seemed to stretch on forever, an unyielding spiral of metal and shadow. And still, the light above flickered like a distant star, taunting him with its unreachable glow. With every step, the world outside grew fainter, the sounds of banging and shouting growing quieter as they ascended into the silence of the tower.

  But the fear was still there, clawing at his insides, pushing him faster, faster, even as his body begged him to stop. He wouldn’t—he couldn’t stop now. True thought to himself, Where are Lilly and Drew? I hope they’re fine. The faint crunch of glass being stepped on downstairs made his stomach tighten. His eyes locked on the door to the second floor, marked with a giant white "2." It stood out starkly against the dull walls.

  Cass noticed it too and muttered, “What a nasty color for a number.”

  True smirked faintly, nodding in agreement as he reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

  The second floor was almost a carbon copy of the first, only without the front entrance. The desks were more widely spaced now, leaving an eerie emptiness that filled the air with unease. True paused to catch his breath, ready to make a remark to Cass, when a piercing scream rang out, freezing them both in place.

  Emily’s voice—it was unmistakable. And this time, it was closer. Much closer.

  True and Cass exchanged a tense glance, no words needed. They nodded in unison, their instincts aligned, and took off running down the main hallway, the echo of the scream driving them forward.

  As they rushed past the rows of desks, something caught True’s eye. Even in the chaos, he noticed a detail he had missed downstairs—all the desks were identical, neatly arranged with the same supplies. His mind snagged on the thought: “The desks are all standard, but that’s not the problem. It’s the supplies on them—sharp red scissors, pens, pencils. Even with five minutes left, that’s enough for Lincoln to tag someone—or worse, for someone to get killed. God really set this up perfectly, didn’t he?”

  The scream ahead snapped his focus back. Cass and True moved closer to the sound, their strides slowing as they noticed something strange. The desks here were shoved aside, scattered and overturned, as if someone had violently cleared a path. Cass, still catching his breath, slowed to a walk and muttered, “We’re getting close to the end of the game.”

  True matched his pace, his breathing heavy but controlled. “Yeah. Lucky we haven’t seen anyone die—or turn into a frozen popsicle.”

  Cass let out one of his rare, rich chuckles, and True grinned, despite himself. “See? I knew I could make you laugh, Mr. Perfect Humor.”

  Cass straightened his posture, adjusting his sleeve with his usual precision. “You wonder why God let us keep our names?”

  True glanced at him, puzzled, then shrugged while keeping his eyes forward. “Not really. Probably for some stupid roll call or something.”

  Cass smirked, gazing briefly at the faintly flickering light overhead. “Believe it or not, I think it’s perfect.”

  True rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’ll bite. Why?”

  Cass’s smirk widened, clearly pleased to share his theory. “Alright. Between you and me—two genius minds. Why are names so important? If we all just ran around named Jeff, there’d be no difference between us. We’d be the same. Who’d want that?”

  True frowned, considering this. “Okay, Mr. Perfect. What are you getting at?”

  Cass adjusted his glasses as he continued. “Our names aren’t just tags. I think they’re tied to our personalities. To our souls. Without my name, I’d probably lose my mind. It’s the only thing grounding me—the thing that makes me me. Think about it. Why do I hate dirty sleeves? Why do smudged glasses drive me insane? Without my name... none of it would matter. And that terrifies me.”

  True stared at him for a moment, unsure how to respond. “Maybe you’re onto something. But honestly, Carter? I think he’d still be crazy, name or not.”

  Cass laughed. “Can you blame him? With a name like Carter? I’d be mad too.”

  They both laughed, their shared moment of levity a brief reprieve. But as they passed an office door, True froze. His stomach twisted. On the door was a bloody handprint, streaked and smudged as if someone had dragged their fingers along the surface.

  “Cass,” True said, his voice low, “look. Blood. They’ve got to be this way.”

  Cass stopped, staring at the door with a mixture of shock and revulsion. His lips curled as if the very thought of touching the blood made him sick. Despite his usual composure, he wondered: “Why do I hate imperfection so much? Is it really my name tied to my soul?”

  True’s thoughts ran in a different direction: “Man, oh man. Names, souls, blood. This is way out of my pay grade. Even if I was getting paid.”

  Then, the sound of pounding footsteps echoed from the stairs behind them. It was like an army charging upward. Another scream came from beyond the bloody door, Emily’s voice piercing yet... off. This time, her childish tone was mixed with something deeper, almost inhuman:

  “Don’t touch me! DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME—or you’ll get what he got!”

  Heart racing, True didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the door handle and flung it open.

  True's heart raced as his eyes darted around the dark room, searching for the little girl in the green dress. The oppressive quiet seemed to amplify his own frantic breathing. Cass burst in right behind him, quickly shutting the door to keep anyone outside from following. As Cass turned back to face the room, he froze mid-step, his expression mirroring True’s as they both stared down a hallway that defied logic.

  The corridor stretched impossibly long—far longer than the layout of the building should allow. Above them, a single air vent ran along the ceiling, its grates caked with dust and grime. Further down the hall, one vent cover dangled loose, as if someone had crashed through it. A dark, crimson stain smeared the vent, and a steady drip of blood hit the floor below, pooling near the door at the hall’s end.

  But that wasn’t what made True’s stomach churn. Lying beneath the vent was a gruesome sight: the half-frozen body of Viktor, the preacher.

  True broke the silence first, his voice heavy. "So... this is what happens when I touch someone. They freeze to death."

  Cass adjusted his sleeve and shot a wary glance at him. "Just don’t touch me, Sir."

  Before either could say more, a weak, shivering grunt escaped Viktor’s blue-tinted lips. His voice, thick with his accent, came out slow and halting. “G...God, I know you will save my soul. Though I have failed… in exorcising the devil.”

  True stepped forward cautiously, his boots squelching in the trail of blood leading to the preacher. Each step made the dark liquid cling thicker to his soles. He glanced back briefly and noticed Cass sticking to the far side of the hall, careful to avoid the blood entirely.

  Now up close, True could see the preacher’s frozen face, pale and stiff, locked in an expression of pain. Ice encased his lower body, but the wound on his leg was still bleeding—a pair of sharp red scissors buried deep into his flesh. True's stomach turned at the sight, and for a fleeting moment, he felt pity for Viktor. Even if the preacher had hurt the little girl, this punishment seemed monstrous.

  In his head, True couldn’t help but think, This is what my power does? Lincoln’s even sicker than I thought—stabbing people like it’s nothing. He doesn’t care about anyone or anything.

  Cass broke the silence, his voice tight and hesitant. “Viktor… where’s the girl? We came here to save her.”

  Viktor’s frozen lips moved slowly, releasing a wheezing gasp of cold air. His thick accent and shivering tone made his words hard to decipher. “G… God… will bless me, child. But... I do not wish to die.”

  Cass, standing straighter now, took charge. “Listen, Viktor. There are only three minutes left. I can unfreeze you and help save your life, but only if you tell us where Emily is.”

  For a moment, Viktor fell silent, his face frozen both literally and figuratively. True, snapping out of his daze, stepped forward with anger tightening his voice. “If you really believe in God, then don’t let a little girl die. Lincoln’s a monster, and you know it. Tell us where she is.”

  Viktor’s cracked, frostbitten lips twisted into a faint, cold smile. “Ch… child? That is no child. Yes… Lincoln took her. Stabbed me, then dragged her away. But he was not alone.” His breath wheezed out in frozen clouds. “For God… gave him your two friends. The child… and the girl’s soul.”

  True and Cass froze in place, their eyes drawn to the dark corner of the room where something shifted in the shadows. Slowly, the figure emerged: a girl, her outline blending into the darkness. She wore a long, tattered purple coat, its sleeves stained with paint, and a faded scarf that covered her throat—where a jagged, bloody slit ran across her neck. In her hands was a pen, dripping crimson.

  True’s stomach churned, bile rising in his throat. He turned away, struggling not to retch. Cass staggered back, his breath quickening as he fought off a full-blown panic attack, his gaze fixed on the horrifying sight.

  Viktor coughed, breaking the awful moment. “Yes... your friends punished her for sins. Then Lincoln came. Tagged me. Forced them into that room.” He weakly gestured toward the door at the end of the hall. “May God… have their souls.”

  Another cough sent a mist of frozen air into the room.

  True clenched his fists and teeth, his voice steady but furious. “Cass, unfreeze him. Now. We’re finishing this damn game.”

  Cass hesitated, his face pale. Finally, he knelt beside Viktor, his hands trembling as he made contact. The ice melted instantly, leaving a thick, dark pool of blood beneath the preacher. Viktor groaned as he rolled onto his stomach, gritting his teeth. With one quick motion, he yanked the scissors from his leg, letting out a guttural scream as blood poured freely.

  Cass stepped back quickly, unable to look at the mess. True, however, didn’t flinch. His focus was locked on the door ahead.

  “Let’s go,” True said firmly.

  Cass nodded, adjusting his sleeve as he followed True. Together, they moved toward the door, ready to face Lincoln and whatever horrors waited beyond.

  True before opening the door stepped back making cass wonder when, true slowly walked back to near Viktor who was still laying face down praying for something, True eyes glanced around until it found the Scissors he reached for them and slowly walked back toward Cass and Said “were going to need these” Cass understood without saying a word and opened the door

  Inside, True’s eyes widened with fear, and relief tied to a chair in this glass room that allowed them to see nothing but the void around the building—something that caused deep panic in him, but he didn’t show it. In the chair, alive and still kicking, was Lilly in her same tethered pink turtleneck, and Drew, though bleeding from his leg, with Lilly covered in blood. But right next to them stood the giant of a man in his worn-out army clothes, hands behind his back, looking out the window. Right next to him, holding onto his pocket, was Emily, staring out the window.

  True looked at Cass and was about to speak when Lincoln’s voice boomed.

  “ONE MINUTE LEFT, PRIVATE. Don’t worry, I can’t freeze your runts just yet, though if you don’t drop the scissors, I’ll do something way worse.”

  True was about to speak, but then he looked into Lilly’s eyes, her mouth covered with office supply tape. She was shaking her head, not a single tear in her eyes. True thought, Wow, she won’t even cry in this situation. What a scary girl. But why is Emily just sitting next to this monster? And why are they covered in blood? No matter, I’ll just have to stick to the plan.

  Lincoln slowly turned around. As he did, it revealed a nasty, deep scratch mark across his eye, running deep and dripping blood. True thought, Man, that's too much blood, but I’d be lying if I said he didn’t look cool. Lilly or Drew must've done him in.

  Lincoln spoke this time, calm but still talking down to Cass and True.

  “Listen, private. The game has 20 seconds left. I want no more bloodshed. The war is done.”

  True spoke in the most serious tone, “Fine, I’ll drop the scissors. Just release my friends.”

  Lincoln took a deep breath and locked eyes with True, his cold stare sending chills. “Do you think I negotiate with terrorists, kid? I said—” With an even firmer grip, Lincoln grabbed the chair with Lilly and Drew. “Put the scissors down, runt.” He flashed a twisted smile.

  True, not wanting to, but knowing he had no choice, dropped the scissors. Cass then said, “Now, Lincoln, give us them—and the girl.”

  Lincoln laughed, pulling out a pair of scissors from his hand, shining even in the darkness of the void.

  True, angry, yelled, “Liar! You said no weapons!”

  Lincoln, laughing but in a serious tone, said, “Again, I’m in charge. You can’t have them, but you can have her.” He pointed to Emily across the room.

  Cass immediately ran her way, saying, “You disgusting dope. Don’t throw a little girl like that. True, throw me here, bear!”

  Emily, against the wall, was sobbing softly, her green dress even more beat up. Now not only mud but blood covered it. This made Cass hesitate from touching her, but True’s words echoed in his head: I don’t care what this game is, you can’t just let people die.

  With that, Cass grabbed the girl. Then True, without taking his eyes off Lincoln, threw the bear to Cass and said, “Thanks, Cass. I know it took a lot for you to grab her. Now, Lincoln, the game has 20 seconds left. No more need for death.”

  Lincoln laughed, grabbing Lilly’s hair, making her grip the seat tighter. But something was odd—she wasn’t looking at True. She was looking at Emily. True noticed this, too. Drew was staring, scared, at Emily as well.

  But before he could think on it further, Lincoln cut a piece of Lilly’s hair and smelled it.

  “Wow, so it is true. Some people do still smell good in here,” he said with a twisted grin.

  This made True angry, but his mind raced, flashing the words, I hate you. As those words hit his mind, True asked Lincoln, “Wait… something’s not adding up. Why didn’t you tie up Emily? Did you try to save her?”

  Lincoln laughed, a sickening smile curling on his lips. “Now you’re getting it, kid,” he said, snipping the scissors again.

  At that moment, Lilly and Drew started yelling through the tape, muffled, shaking in their office chairs.

  True, not taking his eyes off Lincoln, said, “And then why did the priest say she was the devil? Those screams, the cussing—it wasn’t at the priest. It wasn’t because of Viktor at all. This little girl…” His eyes widened in realization. “Wait… I have one last question.”

  Cass, picking up Emily and holding her in his arms with what he would dub the perfect pick-up, suddenly froze. Lincoln snipped the scissors above Lilly and Drew again, this time chopping a piece of Drew’s messy brown hair. But Drew’s eyes remained fixed on Cass and Lilly, his expression a mixture of anger and concern.

  Lincoln replied with a huge smirk, his teeth covered in blood from the deep wound in his eye. “Ask away, private.”

  True, voice trembling but firm, asked, “Who gave you that scar? Was it Drew or Lilly?”

  True’s tone betrayed a deep concern, as if he didn’t want to know the answer.

  Lincoln laughed, standing taller, his chest puffing out. He placed the scissors near Lilly’s eyes. This made both Cass and True ready themselves to charge, but they knew it’d be no use—he’d kill them the minute they moved.

  True could only watch as Lincoln, with his cold stare, slowly put the scissors near Lilly’s face and cut a small piece of hair, saying, “I like Lilly. This whole game—her and Drew gave me one hell of a fight, more than you ever could, private. So much so that this little runt earned my respect. I’ll do you one better. I’ll let her tell you.”

  True yelled, “Wait, don’t—”

  Then, before he could react, Lincoln didn’t cut Lilly’s hair. He ripped the tape off, and it was almost as if time slowed for True, as the words came out of Lilly’s mouth, tinged with guilt and fear.

  “True, it wasn’t us. No. Save your friend. The one who did it was… EMILY.”

  With that, True looked over and, as if in slow motion, saw the awful sight—Emily, with a smirk, holding a pair of scissors, stabbing Cass in the throat, causing him to fall to the ground, clutching his neck.

  Time sped up, and True screamed, “Cass! No! No, no, no!”

  Lilly cried, and Drew sobbed in the back. Lincoln laughed, holding his stomach.

  True ran over to Cass, but Emily was on top of him, stabbing and yelling in a grotesque, mixed voice of a grown man and little girl. “Don’t pick us up. We hate that. I hate you. I hate you. I hate…”

  Those words almost made True hesitate, but when he saw the pain in Cass’s eyes, he had no choice. He grabbed Emily’s throat, squeezed, and because she was so fragile, she fell over—frozen and dead.

  Blood now on True’s hands as he held Cass’s neck, Lilly crying and yelling, “I’m sorry, True. I’m so sorry!”

  Lincoln’s laughter stopped. He walked up to True, patted him on the back, and said, “Congrats, private. You’re now a coddete.”

  True, tears streaming down his face, thought of the words of his past and Emily’s voice, “I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”

  Cass, no longer fighting, grabbed True’s hand. His glasses were covered in blood, his suit ruined, but he didn’t care. Cass moved his lips, trying to utter one final word to True. This made True’s eyes ball, but he wondered—How did he care so much for a person he just met?

  True looked at Cass and read his lips. “The only words he is saying are… Name.”

  With that, Cass passed, and True heard God boom the words, “And with that, the game is done.”

  True, still not done holding onto Cass, felt something happen. As he held Cass’s shirt, Cass’s eyes turned to pure light. His body shook, and before True knew it, he heard God say, “Wow, you’re the first to do this, True.”

  True, with tears streaming down his face and his nose running, thought, What… What now?

  God replied, “You’re the first to see another person’s memories. I hope you enjoy the ride you’re about to go on. You’ll need it.”

  With that, True was engulfed by light. He only had time to say one word: “What?”