━━━━༻ ♣ ༺━━━━ disconnect 00100000 ━━━━༻ ♣ ༺━━━━

It was strange how easily humans could break, in both body and mind. They ran from the creatures of their creations and demons born from their delusions, only to fall victim to the true monster they never saw hidden under human skin. Those monsters were what caused wars, created crime, plaguing mankind, and filling the eyes of grown men with stark terror and young boys with red poison. The notion was almost amusing, how men liked to blame each other without realizing they were the true monsters.

She felt numb. That was the only word that could describe how she felt. Her heart was devoid of anguish, regret, or anger—no emotion touched the girl as she gazed down at the body before her.

Nicholas' figure was decorated with the work of one of those so-called monsters. His dark arms were splayed across the pale tiled floor with an open cut circling his throat like a grotesque collar. Dark bruises and bloodless wounds peeked out from the collar of his uniform.

There was so much blood...it was everywhere. How did she not see it before? Splattered across the wall behind him, staining his white uniform red, and disguising his features. His hair clung damply to his face that showed an expression of wide-eyed terror. It reminded her of what she heard about Yvonne, (Y/n) realized. Killed by someone they knew.

She didn't see Reese's face and didn't bother to as he pulled her back into his chest. He didn't say anything as he hugged her. Her limbs felt frozen and refused to obey. Her eyes were dry and there was a bitter taste in her mouth, metallic and tangy.

(Y/n) barely felt it as the redhead wordlessly pulled her further away from the body. She felt out of touch with the wisp of a body she occupied as he sat them down against the wall furthest away from the table. She thought she had gotten used to seeing corpses; every day, week after week, year after year, she had faint recollections of seeing the battered bodies of tiny children being piled up in the corner of a cage. Only when it was full did the men in white bother to throw them out.

Broken, disfigured living beings and tattered, ruined corpses. It was nothing new to her. It should've just been another stain on her gray walls.

Only once she's seen it again did she realize; I still haven't stopped running.

Reese, as if picking up on her mental turmoil, stroked her hair softly. "It's okay," he whispered, his voice cracking. "It's a bad dream. It'll be over soon." He didn't sound like he believed it, but he did his best to keep the cheery undertone in his voice. She appreciated it. She appreciated him not asking her if she was okay.

Because she wouldn't know how to answer.

"C-card," (Y/n) managed to choke out. Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears. Dead, cold, and soulless. "Nick's...card." She started to stand up and move back towards the corpse, but Reese held her back.

"I'll do it," he said. "Stay here." The red-haired male slowly released her and stood up. His expression betrayed nothing as he bent over and began the gruesome work of moving Nicholas' body. The blood had yet to dry; he was recently killed, and the crimson liquid began creeping across the smooth floor at the disturbance.

He returned with a bloodstained card in his equally red hands. Number five, the Tower. "Should we...?" His voice trailed off.

(Y/n) somehow found it in her to nod her head, though slowly. "Yes. We'll take it. And his body..." She turned away as her head spun and her stomach heaved. "We need to bury it somehow. We can't outside but...not like this. This...this isn't right."

She couldn't look at her friend's corpse anymore. It felt too disrespectful. Resentment began to bleed onto her white canvas, her numbness slowly dissipating. Seeing Nicholas in that state, not only with his throat slit but with his body thrown hazardously behind the table like...garbage made her blood boil, her eyes sharpen.

She was never especially close to the male with ever-changing hairstyles. But he was nonetheless someone she'd call her friend.

"We shouldn't move it out of here," Reese said as he wiped his hands on a book. Where (Y/n) would've laughed at him for disrespecting Shakespeare, she didn't have the heart to. "Let's find a sheet and clean up this...blood."

(Y/n) nodded and curled from her spot huddling against the wall. She rose shakily to her feet. "You can find the sheet. There should be one in the closet. I'll...get the mop."

The two worked in heavy silence as they cleaned up the gore and rearranged Nicholas' body. They decided to keep it behind the table anyway so no one could accidentally damage it. Reese carefully rearranged the boy's limbs to a sleeping position while (Y/n) closed his eyes respectfully. They laid him over a white sheet and another on top.

Reese slipped the tarot card into a ziplock bag and sealed it. "Let's lock the door."

"Yeah. Let's."

The door could thankfully be locked from the inside. The redhead flicked the switch before using brute strength to pull the door shut. He jiggled the knob. "No one can get in now." He rested his forehead against the glass and took in a deep, shuddering breath. "Don't worry, bro. We'll come to get you once this is all over."

Only with Nicholas' death did they truly realize the severity of their situation and understand why Mrs. Richards looked terrified, and why the rest of their friends were so glum.

Humans were scary creatures, (Y/n) knew. But the paranoid ones like the headmaster were the true monsters. Just like Stalin, she thought dryly. Lenin always said to let anyone but Stalin become his successor. Paranoid people are the most dangerous people. Just look at the Salem Witch Trials.

Reese didn't want to, but he had to bring it up if they were going to get through his alive. "One of us killed him," he began. "A student or a teacher." Neither of them wanted to believe their classmates and teachers were capable of such a heinous act. "Let's make a list of who we know are in the game and the suspects...okay?"

She nodded in agreement and took his phone he offered her. She unlocked it—they knew each others' passwords—and opened his notes app.

~ ❀ ~

Current Players:

1. (Y/n)

2. Reese

3. Jas

4. Izzy

5. Lucy

6. Carrie

7. Nick (deceased)

~ ❀ ~

"There's twenty-six of us total," Reese mused thoughtfully. "And six of us are Faces. Nick isn't one."

"Really? How do you know?"

He reached over and opened his messages. Sure enough, there was a new one from the headmaster. First unlucky victim, it read. Nicholas Briar, a Number, killed by the Seeker. He was Number 6, the Tower. May Fortuna be with the rest of you.

"So there's twenty-five now...and we only know seven of them." (Y/n) sighed. I should've paid more attention to who was in there in Winter Hall before...

Suddenly Reese gripped her wrist and began pulling her into another hallway. She nearly dropped the phone at the sudden action. "H-hey!" She protested. "A warning?"

"Nonexistent." But his face was serious. "We gotta go, (N/n). Nick was clearly killed just now. The room was locked because whoever killed him was still there. That son of a b*tch managed to escape before I kicked the door in. That means they might still be in Spring Hall. So we better move. Like, now."

He was right; it was too dangerous right now to stick around grieving their losses and licking their wounds. (Y/n) forced her growing anger down and accustomed herself to Reese's long strides. "Where are we going?"

"I don't know, anywhere but here," the red-haired male said without looking back. "You still have that gun?"

"No...I gave it to you."

"Oh, right." He glanced at the bulge in his pocket. "Worst case scenario, we might have to use it on the Seeker if they come."

(Y/n) looked at her feet, her soles pounding into the polished floor as they ran. "What if..." she began, not wanting to say it. "What if the Seeker...what if they were someone we knew?"

"Then we'll—" He cut himself off.

Her (e/c) eyes flickered up to him. "Then we'll what?"

His step faltered and he slowly. They came to a stop, her hand still lost in his larger one. His grip tightened. Reese looked back, his resolve set.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

AUTUMN:HALL ━━━━━༻ ❀ ༺━━━━━ ѕtυdєηt ¢συη¢ιℓ яσσм

"I can't stay here anymore."

The silence broke into thousands of tiny fragments as a golden-haired boy ripped the canvas off the easel and threw it across the room. It crashed into the wall and clattered onto the floor in a paint-stained, ripped mess.

Tristan's hand on his teacup stilled, the only indication he gave of the disturbance. "Oh? Then what will you do?" Kieran looked up from his card game with Leon. He pulled a pair of cards from his deck and threw it onto the growing pile on the table.

Jaehyun turned around violently, his eyes blazing with anger. "I'm going in there," he said dangerously. "I'm not staying here when there's the possibility that she's chosen by the Seeker next!"

"As much as I hate to admit it, you can't do that," Kieran said. "None of us can. The headmaster will have our heads—"

"Since when were you a sucker for rules," the blond sneered. "The headmaster's making us stay put because he's afraid of us. Afraid of us ruining something he's believed in for decades. And he should be afraid."

The blue-haired male took a sip of his amber drink before setting the cup down. "You do realize that's my father you're insulting?"

"Like I care. You don't like him as much as I do." Jaehyun angrily kicked his easel over. "He expects me to obediently paint in this gilded cage he calls his perfect academy. I call bullsh*t."

Leon finally looked up. He frowned. "Don't curse."

"You're one to talk," Kieran snorted as he tossed another pair of cards onto the table. "Half your vocabulary is profanity."

"I'll tear your vocal cords out, you f*cker—"

"You see?"

Jaehyun ignored the two. "Tristan," he said, his tone almost pleading. "You said you'd do something. You said you'd get her out. You promised."

"And then what?" Tristan arched a perfect eyebrow. "Will you kill her? Like what you did to him five years ago—"

"Shut UP! I told you to shut up! Don't talk about him!"

"And you blame me every time he gets like that," Kieran muttered bitterly. "What did lil ol' me ever do?"

The blue-haired male sighed and leaned back into the armchair, his stance filled with aristocratic grace. "Indeed, I did agree to take action," he confirmed. "That does not mean stopping the Game. It is not something I have the power to do. I prefer my father to stay mentally sound until I graduate, after all."

"Tristan, you—"

"Think about it this way." Tristan uncrossed and recrossed his legs. He folded his hands on his knee and fixed a piercing gaze at the blond male across from him. "Don't you think this is a good opportunity, Kim? A killing game where you can kill anyone and be above the law? What will everyone start doing in that situation?"

Jaehyun bristled. He looked wary, but not as unstable as before. "Get rid of the eyesores."

"Exactly. Between the four of us, aren't there quite a few eyesores that need...taking care of, per se?"

Leon's hand froze, hovering over the pile of cards he had made a move to grab. His silver eyes snapped up in interest. Kieran made a purring sound of satisfaction in the back of his throat as he smirked darkly, his long fingers caressing the side of his cards.

Jaehyun looked at his feet, his eyes shadowed by his long bangs. When he looked up, his bright crimson eyes were dark.

"What do you want me to do?"

Tristan smiled.

"Go wild."

SUMMER:HALL ━━━━━༻ ❀ ༺━━━━━ ℓαtєя

Bloodstained sleeves and an equally bloody card in her pocket—not her best accessory.

For one, it didn't go with the whole posh white-collared good student facade Fortuna Institute was going for when designing the uniforms. Even worse, the fabric has yet to dry when they washed it in the bathroom so (Y/n) had to roll up her sleeves, making the rest of her uniform sleeve wet.

She was still better off than Reese, who had done most of the dirty work without gloves since he didn't have any luck in finding them. Nevermind, that makes it sound like we did something bad when we didn't.

They had ventured deep into Summer Hall. Where Spring was pastel-themed with soft pinks and blues depending on the hallway and its corresponding teacher, Summer Hall was bold and ostentatious, filled with dented graffiti-stained lockers the janitor long given up on cleaning, and vulgar drawings and profanity in the bathroom stalls.

There were certificates lining the walls and trophies displayed proudly in the glass cases that were surprisingly left untouched. Autographed baseballs, soccer balls, basketballs—the display cases held more than just trophies, and they were all things the (h/c)-haired girl would never be able to touch in her life.

She smelled the faint scent of cologne in the air, probably from last week. The air conditioner was on, blowing cold drafts through the hallways, making her shiver. Reese somehow noticed the slight action and stopped walking. He released her hand and peeled off the outer layer of his uniform, a white jacket, and put it on her shoulders.

"I'm fine," she tried to say. "You should keep it—"

But he shook his head, even going as far as slipping her arms through the sleeves that were too big for her. "You're cold," he said. "How could I let you freeze?" The redhead buttoned up the jacket and took her hand again, entwining his long fingers with hers. "L-let's go."

If she didn't know any better, she'd think the slightly pink tips of his ears were suspicious. He must be cold, (Y/n) reasoned. "I'm sorry...and thank you."

His emerald eyes flickered back, two twin orbs of viridescent flames. He smiled. "It's no problem. Can't say I'm not a gentleman now, aye?"

"Haha, very funny," she rolled her eyes. "Where are we going now?"

A slight upturn at the corners of his mouth that wasn't a smile but instead something of adamant determination flitted over his face, gone as fast as it came. "I think we should put finding the others away for later. Maybe it seems safer to travel in a big group but to me, that just makes it easier for them to pick us off if we're all together. It's safer to split up."

His hand tightened on hers. "O-of course, only if that's okay with you, (N/n)."

Her (e/c) eyes dropped. "Yeah...I'm fine with that."

What he said made sense; although it was basic human and animal instinct to stay together—safety in numbers—in this situation, that may do more harm than good. After all, she did see that large minigun propped up in the corner of the commons room back in Spring Hall. Who's to say some psychopath might not pick that up and turn it on all of them if they got together?

(Y/n) didn't care what happened to her, but that didn't mean she was some hero who wasn't afraid of dying. She was afraid of death, afraid of what came after. But if she could do something to help her friends...she'd do it.

Even if it meant jeopardizing the rest of the school. She'd do anything for her friends.

That thought in mind, her eyes slid to the tell-tale bulge in her companion's pants, outlining the shape of a gun barrel. How easy it would be, she mused, to pull it out and fire it at anyone who tried to harm the two of them. How easy it would be for her finger to "slip" and send a bullet spearing through the air towards an innocent passerby.

Taking a life was too easy; she knew it firsthand. All it took was a needle and some solitude.

No one can survive without the sun.

"...don't—"

Then they heard it, something that sounded too much like a scream. A feminine scream, at the likes of it. Reese quickly ducked behind a wall, pulling (Y/n) with him. "Shh," he whispered into her ear as the footsteps came closer. His hair tickled the back of her neck. He reached behind him. Then she felt something cold and hard press into her hand.

She looked down. It was the gun in all its silver glory. (Y/n) whipped her head towards the redhead, bewildered. "Wha—"

"It's fine," Reese smiled reassuringly. "I can handle myself in a fistfight. You'll need that more than me. But when push comes to shove"—he pulled her closer into an embrace—"Don't fire the gun. Give it to me. There's no way I'm letting you stain your hands with blood."

"B-but that would mean—"

"Shh," he released her and placed a finger on her lips. There was a strange emotion in his eyes that was uncharacteristic of him as he gazed down at her, his eyes flickering across her face. "I'll be fine. We'll be fine."

There was something in his voice she couldn't place her finger on as he uttered those last few words. He ruffled her hair and stepped back. Wait here, he mouthed. Then he took off, slowly and carefully, around the hallway and towards the sound.

(Y/n) was at a loss. She didn't know what to do. I should go help him, was her first instinct. If anything happens...Countless scenarios played through her head like an endless tape, all of them ending the same way. Reese dying, Reese getting hurt, Reese being targeted. None of them was a happy ending, and it only heightened her fears.

Maybe it was a bad decision to follow him. Maybe she should listen to him, but (Y/n) was never one for rules. Rules were meant to be broken; that's why they're put in place.

Here goes nothing. The pounding footsteps stopped growing louder, and she could hear the faint sound of scuffling. She feared it may be Reese. The (h/c)-haired girl began running in the direction of the sound while checking the barrel. As expected, it was loaded. Quickly, she took out the bullets and slipped them securely into her pocket. Then she flicked the safety. A resonating click confirmed her actions.

She turned into the hallway she was sure she saw Reese go into. Almost by pure instinct, her feet carried her closer and closer to the scuffling, until she could make out voices.

"Stop!" A girl screamed. There was the sound of something slamming into the wall. "Please...don't do this!"

"Shut up, b*tch," another voice sighed, exasperated. "My job's hard enough as it is. You didn't follow the rules, so I have to deal with you. Those are the rules. Got a problem with it?"

"Please, let me go! I promise I won't tell?"

The other girl scoffed. "Let you go? My job is to fix rulebreakers. So I'm sorry, honey, but you gotta go."

"No—please—don't—"

Her voice was cut off by a high-pitched gurgled scream, just as (Y/n) rounded the corner. Her eyes widened at what she saw.

A black-haired girl she's never seen before was kneeling before another girl whose back was turned to the (h/c)-haired girl. Her eyes were wide open, filled with shock and fear as she gapped and clawed at her neck, nothing coming out but choked gurgles.

And an ax—the silver blade, buried deep into the girl's neck. The familiar-looking blonde ripped the weapon out nonchalantly, splattering blood across the hallway walls as if it was nothing more than paint on her brush. The other girl swayed, once, twice, before toppling over in a flurry of cloth, her legs bent painfully under her.

(Y/n) took a step back. Then another. Her feet felt like stone and a part of the floor as the blonde yawned and turned to lean against the wall, revealing a beautiful face and cruel, pale eyes. She lit a cigarette and breathed it in, her eyes fluttering shut at the euphoria. (Y/n) could only watch as the girl breathed out, tendrils of smoke escaping her rosemary lips.

A hand clasped down on her mouth before she could react. (Y/n)'s eyes flew open and adrenaline coursed through her veins as she readied her gun, ready to fire a few warning shots and then kick her attacker in where the sun doesn't shine.

"Wait, it's me, (N/n)!" A hushed whisper made her calm down. Reese pulled them into a spare classroom before the blonde killer in the hallway could notice. He didn't bother to close the door since that would garner more suspicion before letting go of her mouth. "S-sorry, but I didn't want you alerting that girl we're here."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, it's...not fine. What was that?"

The redhead glanced grimly at the half-opened door. "That was the Fixer, I guess. Mackenzie Taylor, in charge of punishing all rulebreakers. I guess we have eight names now. Nine, if you count the dead girl."

Twenty-four people left already, and in the span of one hour. (Y/n) echoed his words silently in her head. "Hey," Reese interrupted her thoughts, placing a hand on her shoulder, squeezing its reassurance. She looked up, startled, into the wide, kind eyes that smiled kindly at her. "We're going to be fine. We're going to get outta here with the others, yeah?"

She dubiously nodded. "Yeah."

Reese grinned and pulled away. He fisted his hands and brandished them proudly. "C'mon, (N/n). We're Reese and (N/n), the iconic duo! What can't we do? Go on, name a few. Yeah, exactly"—he didn't bother to wait for her to respond—"We can do everything. Mainly because of me, of course, 'cause I'm so awesome. Aw, thanks, you think so too? I know right."

(Y/n) rolled her eyes and had to laugh at his antics. "Well then, Captain Big Ego, where do you say we go next? Spring has the Seeker and Summer has the Fixer. They'll be moving around soon anyway. Should we stay here?"

"...Let's go to Autumn," he answered after a moment of hesitation. "Even though it's safer to double back to Spring since the Seeker will probably be on their way through all the four Halls right now, we really need to get more cards. Especially another Hanged Man. I don't know about you, but these fists would really use some decor. Like in heh, iron knuckles."

"You and your manga-obsessed brain..."

"Hey! Iron knuckles are cool, okay? Even though that sword I saw back there was way cooler, I still like them!"

"I always thought you were a bomb sort of guy but okay. Then let's go!"

SUMMER:HALL ━━━━━༻ ❀ ༺━━━━━ ℓαtєя

"London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down~" A golden-haired boy sang as he walked, a slight skip in his seats. "London Bridge is falling down..."

He was in a good mood, especially after Tristan granted him permission to infiltrate the Game, as long as no other participants other than she realized. Where are you? He peeked into a hallway. Not here...He went to another one. Not here either...where could you be?

Then he spied her, a flash of (h/c) hair around the corner. His eyes lit up. "My fair lady~"

Jaehyun hummed happily in tune to his steps as he rounded the corner, his mouth opening to greet the (h/c)-haired girl, only to close. He quickly ducked into the nearest locker.

Reese turned back, confused. "Did you hear that?" (Y/n) looked around for the source of the sound. Then she shrugged.

"Probably imagined it."

He didn't notice me, right? Jaehyun peeked out from his hiding spot. Their backs were turned to him as they walked. I would hate it if Tristan pulled me out so soon...His face soured at the sight of the red-haired male and his close proximity to his friend. Who is he?

Oh right...A dark smile graced his lips. The Grayson kid, youngest son of vice headmaster Grayson. (Y/n) did say they were friends...but she only needs me as a friend right?

Guns, poison, and ropes—Jaehyun grinned as he played with the handle that protruded out of his back pocket. He was never one for those kinds of things; they made too much sound, it was unpleasant. He was always more of a knife person. It reminded him of his favorite artist's knife he used to paint.

He loved painting. He particularly loved it when he dashed them in red, red, and red.

Besides, Tristan said we could go wild. So here I go!

━━━━━༻ ❀ ༺━━━━━

A/N: I changed my cover because the old one gave me heartburn. It reminded me too much of cotton candy :/

Second, sorry for the confusion about the special chapters if any. Some of you guys are new readers (welcome to this super cringy book btw) and maybe didn't see entry #9. There are two special chapters currently. Special chapters are not related to the main plot. They are there for me to get my creative juices flowing, and maybe for you guys to take a breather? I don't know lol. Feel free to ask any more questions you might have here. I usually respond pretty quickly because of *COUGH* online classes *COUGH*

reesespieces: ha, online classes. what a joke. i have a flipping dEaTh gaMe :v