Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You’ve never been a fan of winter. Maybe you could’ve liked it, had the circumstances of your life been a little different. Maybe if all the homes you lived in had been a little warmer, then you might have labelled yourself as a ‘winter person’. But, alas, they were not. It seems none of your foster parents were interested in spending more than the bare minimum on heating. A bit selfish on their parts, but it’s never been your place to complain.

This house is even worse than the last one. The walls are too thin, and the windows rattle impatiently whenever the wind picks up. You flinch at every noise, unable to fully relax. The blanket you’ve pulled up to your chin helps against the cold, but isn’t much comfort other than that. Like most things here, there isn’t much sentimental value tied to the object.

This room isn’t yours, despite what they said when you first arrived. It’s theirs. Everything is theirs- including you, in a way. That is, until they grow tired of you, and then you’ll be someone else’s. 

You aren’t sure how to feel about your current foster parents. They don’t pay you much attention, unlike the last ones, who had been far too involved in everything you did. It’s peaceful, you suppose, though you can’t help but feel a little neglected sometimes. It would be nice for them to check in every once in a while to make sure you haven’t killed yourself. Not that you would, or, not here at least. You wouldn’t want any of the younger kids coming into your room and finding a dead body.

You try to focus on something else, feeling uncomfortable with the dark turn your thoughts have taken, but your mind can’t seem to let go of the image. The way their little faces would twist in horror at the sight of you, and how they’d tug on your clothes, begging you to wake up. What would grief look like on them? Would they cry? Lash out? 

Would they hurt themselves?

You squeeze your eyes tightly shut and try to do one of those exercises your therapist suggested. Focus on the present- experience things with your body, not your mind. Use your five senses.

At first, all you can hear is the wind, but then you notice the distinct sounds of bowls and glasses being placed on the kitchen table. You’ve always had sharp hearing, so it’s not difficult to work out what’s going on in the room below. There’s talking now too, but you can’t quite make out the words. Perhaps someone is being asked to tell you that dinner is ready. You listen carefully for the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, but they never come.

Wow. They aren’t even inviting me down for dinner.

You tell yourself that you don’t care. It’s not like you wanted to sit down for another awkward meal with those people. In fact, they’re doing you a favour, choosing not to subject you to that. You don’t even like eating in front of others.

How thoughtful of them.

Your phone lights up in your hand, stealing your attention away from what’s going on downstairs. One new notification. You already know who it’s from, after all there aren’t many people who’d be trying to speak to you this late into the evening.

Can you meet at the park? I need to ask you smth.

The message hovers at the bottom of your lockscreen, vague and intrusive. You swipe it away with a huff, irritated by the request. It’s dark outside, and cold too. There’s no way in hell you’re leaving your nest of blankets to go hang out in a dingy park with a twenty year old who’s probably drunk off her ass.

Plz it’s really important.

Your jaw clenches ever so slightly as the second message pops up. 

It’s not that you have anything against Da-hye, in fact, she’s the only adult you actually do get along with. Still, you'd much rather stay here than risk going out at night. 

Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be an option. Your phone begins vibrating, loud and angry as if you’ve offended it by not opening the text messages. Da-hye’s name flashes across your screen in bold, white letters, practically begging you to pick up. 

Well, I guess I don’t really have a choice, seeing as there’s no fucking decline button.

“Is everything ok?” You ask, trying to sound like you actually care. 

There’s a huff on the other end, “So you were ignoring me.”

You quickly shake your head, despite your camera not being on. “Sorry, I was drawing something. My phone was on the bed.” 

There’s a brief second of silence before she replies, “Ok, you’re not busy then?”

You hesitate, trying to come up with an excuse to stay inside. Not that you really need one, since Da-hye knows that you don’t like the dark.

“Can’t you just tell me what’s going on over the phone?”

She sighs, “No. It’ll be easier to explain in person, and I need to give you something.”

You hum in response, trying to figure out what it could be. If she’s going to give you something, then it’s likely a bribe. She needs a favour done. 

Da-hye impatiently breaks the silence, “So are you gonna come or not?”

You glance over at your window in contemplation. Even just looking at the darkness outside makes you uncomfortable. How can she expect you to willingly leave the safety of your room?

“Can’t you just meet me here, and then we can walk to the park together?”

You wince as Da-hye groans at your request. If it were anyone else, you wouldn’t care about pissing them off. In fact, you’d take pleasure in it. Better to disappoint them before they can disappoint you. Not Da-hye though. No, you can’t risk her abandoning you.

“That’ll take too long.” She pauses, before sighing dramatically and adding, “I’ll walk you home after. We can stop by the shop and I’ll buy you something.”

Ok, well now you definitely have to go.

“Fine, but this better be important.”

“I wouldn’t make you come if it wasn’t.”

Not trusting yourself to reply politely, you hang up the phone and slip it into your pocket without a goodbye. Da-hye won’t care, she knows that you’ll get over your pettiness sooner or later. 

You jump up from the bed and glance down at your outfit. Loose joggers and an oversized t-shirt; not the worst thing to be seen in, yet you still might get a few odd looks. Of course, that’s if there’s anyone else out at this time of night. It’s probably too late for most people. 

You step towards your door and pull your coat off its hanger. Like most of the clothes in your wardrobe, it’s black. A little depressing, sure, but at least it’s easy to blend in with everyone else. You pull your arms through the sleeves and shove your hands into the pockets, hoping to check the time. Empty. Right, of course, your phone is in your joggers. You mentally facepalm and pull the device out, squinting as the screen suddenly turns on. 

Fucking hell, why is my brightness so high? 

You blink a few times until you’re finally able to read the time displayed.

19:43

Not as late as you’d initially thought. That’s good then, hopefully it’ll be a little safer out. Less creeps. You shove your phone into your pocket and glance over at the chest of drawers in the far right corner of the room. A familiar longing begins to emerge as you consider all the things you’ve hidden inside it.

I don’t need any of that crap right now. Da-hye is waiting for me, this is a waste of time.

Despite telling yourself that, you still find yourself walking towards it. You tread carefully, intent on staying completely silent. Not that it really matters- they wouldn’t hear you from downstairs anyway. Still, you glance back at the closed door to double check that it actually is closed, before tugging open the bottom drawer. 

Inside, there’s a few pairs of shorts that you’ve tucked away for the summer. You pull them away to reveal four bottles of soju and a cherry vape. My stash. You grab the vape and take a long pull as you consider the alcohol. Should you have some? Drinking usually helps calm you down, but then again, it’s probably not the best idea to go out at night if you aren’t sober. That’d be like announcing to the world that you’d make an easy target for kidnappers.

Might as well save it for another time. I wouldn’t wanna get murdered on my way to the park. 

You try to play off your anxiety with humour, but it doesn’t quite land, considering you genuinely are afraid of getting murdered. It’s stupid, being this afraid of the dark. You feel like a child. A child who needs a nightlight to fall asleep. Jesus, I really am pathetic. 

You take a second hit from the vape, trying to ignore the guilt that comes with the nicotine rush. It’s embarrassing really, being so dependent on stuff like this at only sixteen, but you’re desperate. Desperate to prove that you’ve grown past your trauma. That you aren’t just a traumatised little girl unable to let go of what happened. 

You put the vape into the same pocket as your phone and haphazardly shove your shorts back into the drawer. Da-hye is probably getting impatient by now. You stand back up and close the drawer with your foot, suddenly feeling very faint. Some dinner would be great right about now.

Maybe they’ve saved some food for me. If not, I’ll just get Da-hye to buy me some buldak ramen on the way back.

Once the dizziness has subsided, you grab your keys and make your way through the house to the front door. You hesitate a moment before unlocking it, distracted by the sounds coming from the kitchen. 

Laughter. They’re laughing. 

You glare in the direction of the noise. It’s hard to decide whether you want to burst in and scream at them or just disappear forever. Maybe both, in that order.

Why didn’t they call me down to join them? Am I not good enough? Fuck, they already hate me. I’ll be with a new family by next week. 

A million scenarios suddenly rush through your head. You’re already picturing the dreaded conversation with your social worker- the patronising look in her eyes as she gently breaks the news. They don’t want you anymore. You’re too difficult.

What if I have to move away from Da-hye?

Thinking about Da-hye reminds you of the task at hand. You take a deep breath to calm yourself before pushing the key into the lock and twisting it once before pulling open the door and stepping outside. 

It’s cold tonight. Not freezing, but also not nearly warm enough to be comfortable. You shiver once, and then pull the door shut behind you. Ok, you’ll be fine, this is totally normal. Only a seven minute walk to the park, and then you’ll be safe. Da-hye won’t let anything happen to you once you’re there. 

After taking a couple more deep breaths, you begin walking down the street. There doesn’t seem to be anyone else out, which makes you nervous. It feels eery, though that could just be because you aren’t used to seeing this place so empty.

Despite the streetlights being on, it’s still very dark. Shadows stretch across the lengths of buildings, making it difficult to pinpoint exactly where you are. You know the general direction of the park, but it’s not like you go there on a regular basis. Dead leaves scrape across the pavement every time the wind picks up, and occasionally you hear the rumble of a distant car. Nothing out of the ordinary.

That is, until you reach the alleyway. Technically you don’t have to walk down it. There’s other routes you could take instead, but that’ll double the time it takes to reach the park, and you’re already running late. Looks like you don’t really have a choice.

There’s no lights down this path- just the mournful glow of the moon peaking through the clouds. Thankfully that’s enough for you to make out where the walls are, so you don’t end up with a face full of bricks. 

Everything seems unnaturally still. The wind is quieter than before, and there’s no wildlife rustling off to the side. It’s just you and your breathing, which is becoming noticeably heavier than normal. 

Every few seconds your head jerks around to check for anyone following behind. Sometimes you’ll catch a dark blur from the corner of your eye, other times it’ll be the sound of heavy footsteps too close behind. Through all of that though, there’s a constant deep voice murmuring in Korean. Words that sound vaguely familiar, yet you can’t quite place meaning to them. They’re only a distant echo of the past, from before you had learnt the language here. You were too young to understand what had been said that night. It doesn’t matter anymore though, that was a long time ago.

You finally reach the end of the alleyway, visibly relaxing as you are greeted by a streetlight. The park lies across a narrow road, which is deserted, save for a couple of parked cars. You quickly make your way across it and push open the chipped yellow gate. It groans loudly with age, making you cringe a little.

At least Da-hye will know I’m here now. 

You squint and scan the area, trying to find your friend. There doesn’t seem to be anyone here, so you go to pull out your phone, only for a small flicker of light to catch your eye. 

Ah, there she is. 

You walk towards one of the benches by the metal fence, recognising the slouched figure as Da-hye. She’s lounging across the wood like it’s her own personal couch, a cigarette hanging from her lips as she attempts to light it. 

“Too windy?” You ask dryly, sitting down beside her.

She side-eyes you and continues fiddling with the lighter. “I can handle a bit of wind, just give me a second.” 

Damn, I was only trying to make conversation.

You watch in silence as she attempts to light the cigarette again. After two more failed attempts, she finally succeeds. 

“See- told you I could do it.” Da-hye grumbles before taking a long drag. You watch the smoke spill from her lips into the cool night air, transfixed by the way it twists and curls. She glances back over at you and frowns slightly, “What, you want a hit?”

“Nah, I’m good.” You reply quickly, feeling slightly flustered by the fact that you’ve been caught staring. Is she annoyed? Did she want me to have some? No, probably not. She wouldn’t be bothered by something so trivial.

“I guess I should explain why I made you come meet up with me,” Da-hye says, her voice sounding flat and a little bored. 

You shrug in response, trying not to appear too eager. She doesn’t need to know the extent that you’d go to ensure your friendship doesn’t fall apart. 

“This guy came up to me a while ago and offered to play ddakji. Every time I won, he gave me some money.”

You scoff and interrupt before she can continue, “Well that guy’s clearly a scammer. Let me guess- while you were playing his buddy stole your purse and now you’re even more broke than before?”

Da-hye glares at you, “Shut up and let me finish.” She takes another drag to collect herself before continuing. “After we played, he gave me a card and told me to call the number if I’m interested in playing more games. I rang up, and the guy on the phone gave me a time and place to meet up. I was gonna go but then this thing came up minute…”

You already know exactly where this is going. A favour, just as you’d predicted.

“I was hoping you’d be able to take my place.” Yep, there it is. 

“How much money is it?” You counter, trying to avoid giving her a direct answer.

From the corner of your eye, you see her turn to look at you, trying to read your face. She can’t though, not with the way you refuse to meet her gaze, keeping yourself hidden under a mask of shadows. It’ll be easier for her to make you say yes if she can see every thought and emotion scribbled across your features. Da-hye is frustratingly good at figuring out exactly how you feel, and then responding in a way that doesn’t make you feel patronised. It’s helpful when you’re upset, but not so great when you’re trying to manipulate her. Or when she’s trying to manipulate you.

“He didn’t give an exact number- just said it was enough to turn my life around. He knew my name, knew I was in debt. Said this was an opportunity to make my life worth living.”

You chew your lower lip in contemplation, still ignoring the pair of eyes burning into the side of your face. This whole thing sounds like a giant scam. Da-hye isn’t an idiot, and neither are you. If something sounds too good to be true, then it most certainly is. “What makes you think this guy is legit?”

She sighs, suddenly sounding very tired. “I don't know, maybe he was a scammer. I just- I really need this money, [Name]. I’m running out of options here, and if these games are legit then we can split it.”

In all honesty, you couldn’t care less about the money. At sixteen years old, there isn’t much to spend it on other than clothes and substances. Da-hye needs it a lot more than you do, what with all the debt she’s somehow managed to rack up. A small part of you is seriously considering going along with it though. You can’t stand the thought of letting your only friend down and risk her growing to resent you.

“What kind of games would I be playing?” You murmur, finally turning to look at Da-hye properly. Her face lights up at your apparent interest, relief tugging her lips into a small smile.

“The guy didn’t say. I tried asking, but he just told me that it would be unfair to disclose any details until I’m actually there.” She sounds frustrated. Not with you, but with her own lack of knowledge. Probably because it’ll be harder to convince you to say yes.

You shrug, feigning indifference. “I guess that makes sense.”

The two of you fall into an uncomfortable silence. This whole conversation has had you tiptoeing round each other, avoiding the real issue here: if you refuse to play, Da-hye won't be able to pay off her debts. Maybe in the beginning she’ll play it cool and say that it’s not a big deal, but you know that she’ll secretly harbour a grudge. A grudge that could mutate into something worse. A sickness that’ll eat away at your friendship until one of you inevitably snaps, and then you’ll be left with no one. She might as well be dead to you by that point.

“Fine, I’ll do it. Where is this place and when do I have to go?”

As soon as the words leave your lips, Da-hye’s posture visibly slackens. She leans back against the bench and tilts her head towards the sky, laughing lightly. “I knew you’d come around. Fuck, I owe you big time.” 

Her voice is soft, which makes you question whether she’s talking to you or herself. Either way, it doesn’t really matter. What’s done is done- the decision has been made. You force a smile and remain silent, watching as her hand slips into the pocket of her jacket. 

“I wrote it down on a sticky note. I think there’s a password you’ll need to know- don’t worry, I wrote that down too.” She pulls out a small piece of paper, taking a second to smooth out the creases before handing it over to you. It’s difficult to read under such limited light, and Da-hye’s horrific handwriting doesn’t make it any easier. You squint at the words intensely, trying to piece together what she’s written.

“Can you just read this out to me? I don’t understand what it says.”

She huffs and leans over so that her chin rests on your shoulder. You hold still as she inspects the note in your hand, feeling slightly startled by the sudden invasion of personal space. It takes Da-hye a couple seconds to read the information before she returns to her original position and tells you what it says.

“See that bus stop over there?” She asks, gesturing in the general direction of the road, “That’s where you’ll meet him. Be there at 11pm tomorrow, the password is red light green light.”

You shift uneasily, trying to ignore the nausea that’s beginning to settle in your gut. This is a bad idea. Not just bad, but outright dangerous. 

“You expect me to meet up with a complete stranger in the middle of the night? I’m sorry, I can’t. I mean, he could- what if he-” You can’t finish your sentences, thoughts racing too fast for your mouth to keep up. There’s a growing tightness in your throat that makes it difficult to breathe, which only adds to your panic.

A pair of hands grips your cheeks, firm but not painful. Da-hye’s face leans in close to yours as she speaks, “Hey, breathe. I need you to breathe for me, [Name]. You’re gonna be fine, nothing bad will happen. All you’ve got to do is play a couple games. Can you do that for me? It’s ok if you don’t win, I just want you to try. I need this. We need it.”

Your eyes burn with unshed tears. The way she speaks is so painfully similar to the way your mother used to. It reawakens an unbearable longing that you’ve had to train yourself to ignore in the years after their deaths. You choke out a wet sob. Da-hye immediately notices your distress, pulling you into a sideways hug and giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze. 

“I understand why you’re scared- if I’d been through the same shit as you I don’t think I’d be able to cope.” She hesitates, as if unsure of whether to continue, “Those men who killed your parents, they were sick in the head. Most people aren’t like that. The ddakji guy wasn’t like that, I think he genuinely wanted to help.”

You twist away from her, not wanting to expose the tears that have begun to slide down your cheeks. Why the fuck would she bring up the home invasion? Why now? 

Memories of that night come flooding to the forefront of your mind, just as vivid as the day it happened. Inky blood everywhere. A loud bang. White hot pain. Darkness. Your trauma isn’t fluid, it comes to you in snapshots- freeze frames of the most horrifying highlights. The parts that have twisted you into the broken person you are today, a waste of potential. A waste of life.

“Please, I don’t wanna talk about them. Ever.” Your voice cracks like glass, betraying your grief. 

Da-hye cautiously withdraws her hand from your shoulder. “Ok, I’m sorry… You’ll still do it though, won’t you? Those games could be my last chance to get out of this debt. That money could change both of our lives.” 

There it is again. A demand wrapped in tenderness, hiding behind words of comfort. Of course you’ll do it. She knows how much you value her. How far you’ll go, even when your instincts scream at you to do otherwise. This proposed game is clearly too good to be true, but that fact won’t stop you. The question isn’t will this be a mistake? But rather, will it be a mistake you can afford to make? 

“Yes. I’ll do it.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The walk to the park feels longer today than it had yesterday. Perhaps it’s the apprehension of knowing what’s to come that’s making time feel so slow. Or maybe you’re just not walking fast enough. It’s hard to move at a reasonable pace though, when you know that each step could be bringing you closer to a creep waiting to ambush you.

Or, you could be closer to winning a ridiculous amount of money. It’s all about perspective, you suppose- glass half full and all that.

You’re more prepared tonight, dressed in warmer clothes and armed with a small pocket knife that’s safely tucked into the sleeve of your hoodie. You run your thumb up and down the smooth handle in an attempt to calm your racing heart. No point tiring yourself out before you even make it to the bus stop. If this guy is planning on more rounds of ddakji, then you’ll need to save some energy. 

Deep breaths, now. Everything will be fine.

You aren’t sure what to expect when you get there. Da-hye had suggested that it might be the man from before, in which case you should be looking out for a ‘hot guy in a sexy suit’, as she had so helpfully described him. If not though, then you have no idea. That’s what’s making you so nervous about this- how vague the details are. Everything seems so suspiciously confidential, and the fact that you have to come to the bus stop at night is definitely not a good sign. It’s easier to get away with committing a crime if most people are at home asleep.

You know this, and yet here you are anyway, approaching the empty bus stop with nothing more than a cheap knife for protection. 

Survival instincts of a fart. At least I’m self aware I guess…

You reach the meet up spot and decide to sit down on the bench, adopting a slightly hunched posture that screams ‘I feel completely unsafe here and fully expect to be murdered’. 

Not as confident as you’d have liked to appear, but it’s not like there’s anyone else here to judge you. The most important thing is that you’ve stuck to your promise. It doesn’t matter how dignified you look doing it. 

You hear the vehicle before you see it. A mechanical purring that starts off quiet, but then quickly increases in volume as it drives closer. You turn in the direction of the noise just as two gleaming headlights swing round the corner and illuminate the road. The sudden brightness makes you squint and instinctively bring your hands up to shield your eyes. 

Jesus Christ. There’s absolutely no need for them to be that bright.

You peek through your fingers and realise that the driver has stopped directly in front of you. The vehicle, which you had initially assumed to be a car, looks to be a sort of van or minibus. A grey Hyundai with tinted windows, making it impossible to guess how many people might be in there. Yep, you’re definitely about to be abducted.

The window rolls down to reveal, well frankly, not much. The driver doesn’t turn to look at you, keeping their gaze fixed directly ahead. You can’t even tell if it’s a man or a woman because of the tightly fitted hood they're wearing. 

Well, this is weird as fuck. Is that a jumpsuit? You frown, trying to figure out what the hell this person is wearing. It might just be the darkness, but you’re pretty sure they’re dressed head to toe in hot pink. Perhaps it’s a Halloween thing. Da-hye hadn’t mentioned anything about dressing up though.

The driver still hasn’t moved, so you decide that you should probably go over and say something before they leave without you. Tightening your grip on the knife, you hesitantly stand up and take a couple steps towards the van. Just close enough to talk, whilst maintaining a safe distance from the door. Wouldn’t want anyone to grab you after all.

“Is this for the games?” You ask- voice sounding rougher than usual from a lack of use.

The person in the van still won’t turn their head. “Ms. Yeon Da-hye?”

You pause, and then nod in confirmation. “Uh- yes, I’m Yeon Da-hye.”

The man driving (at least, it sounds like a man), finally turns to look at you. His face is concealed by a strange black mask that’s had a circle painted on the top half. Maybe printed actually, it’s hard to tell from where you’re standing.

You aren’t sure whether to be frightened or amused. He looks like he’s cosplaying some niche character from a show you’ve never seen before. It's a little absurd, the thought of someone in full cosplay pulling up to kidnap you, but not entirely out of the realm of possibility. You should keep your guard up either way.

He’s almost like a soldier, precise and robotic. The two of you study each other in silence until it suddenly occurs to you why he’s staring. Yeon Da-hye is a Korean name, belonging to a Korean woman. You are clearly not Korean.

“Ah! I’m adopted. My parents wanted me to have a Korean name,” you explain, offering the masked stranger a strained smile. Not the most creative excuse, but it’s believable enough. Hopefully.

There’s another beat of silence before he finally speaks, “Password?”

Your mind goes blank. Shit, what was it Da-hye said yesterday? You stare at the mask dumbly, trying to remember what you’re supposed to say. Oh, right- it’s that kids game.

“Red light, green light.”

There’s a click, and then the door slides open. Your mind screams at you to run back home and never leave again. Lock yourself in your room where it’s safe. Da-hye would understand, wouldn’t she? Maybe if you explained to her how shady this van looks she’d forgive you for being such a coward. 

“Get in.” His abruptness surprises you. Not that you’d expect anything more from a guy covering his face, but some reassurance would’ve been nice. Clearly he’s on a tight schedule. You need to get in right now or he’ll leave, and then you’ll have to face Da-hye tomorrow. See the way her eyes harden with disappointment when you turn up empty handed. 

You force yourself to climb into the vehicle, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor in an attempt to avoid eye contact with the other passengers. Luckily the seat closest to the door is free, so you sit down without having to worry about shuffling past anyone. The door slides shut as you settle down, but the van doesn’t immediately start moving. 

Does he expect me to put on my seatbelt? This is a joke.

You begin twisting to the side to try and buckle yourself in, only to stop as a sudden hissing cuts through the silence. 

What the fuck?

You lean back into an upright position and look around, trying to find the source of the noise. Something isn’t right here. The space around you is becoming hazy- you can’t quite make out the seat in front. Is there a fire? No, this isn’t smoke. Why is it so hard to breathe then? You try to stand up and open the door, but your limbs feel heavy and your mind can’t quite figure out what's going on. 

All you can manage to do is lurch forwards, and then fall back into the seat. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open. Each blink is slower than the last, until finally you submit to the overpowering fatigue that has taken hold of you.

Chapter Text

You awake to the sound of music- an obnoxiously cheerful tune that’s far too loud to be a phone alarm. That’s odd. You don’t move at first, not even to open your eyes. Instinctively, you know that something isn’t right, but there’s this fogginess to your thoughts that makes it difficult to place what’s wrong. It’s only when you blindly reach out for your phone and instead hit a metal beam that everything suddenly clicks. 

Oh shit.

You jolt upright as memories of the night before come rushing back. The van, the masked stranger, and then the gas. You were drugged. Drugged, and then kidnapped. 

It’s difficult to keep your eyes open under the harsh light, so you’re forced to squint as you take in the environment around you. From the size alone, it seems like you’ve been taken to a warehouse. Lining each wall, there’s towers of stacked bunk beds which make the space feel smaller than it is. On many of the beds, you notice people waking up, their faces twisting into expressions of confusion and fear.

At least I’m not the only one who doesn’t have a clue what’s going on.

Despite the terrifying reality of your predicament, you find yourself somewhat comforted by the presence of so many others. It shouldn’t be too hard to disappear in a place like this. If you can just make yourself invisible to your captors, then maybe you’ll have a chance at surviving. 

The matching tracksuits that everyone seems to be wearing should also help. You glance down at yourself and breathe a small sigh of relief. They changed your clothes too, so blending in will be easy. The thought of being drugged and then stripped naked is creepy as hell, sure, but you don’t have time to freak out about that. Right now, your only concern is survival.

There’s a clambering from the bunk above as someone moves around. After a few seconds, a green figure climbs down and lands on the step beside your bed. The sudden intrusion catches you off guard, but you’re quick to mask your discomfort with apathy. Don’t let anyone think you’re weak.

Fortunately, the person facing you is definitely not a threat. Her face is soft and youthful, framed by layers of dark hair that ends at her shoulders. She gives you a shy smile, which you quickly return.

“Hi.” Her voice is quiet, as if she’s unsure of whether she’s allowed to speak. 

You’re surprised that someone here is actually choosing to talk to you. People tend to stare a lot when you go out in public. They’ll assume you don’t speak Korean and whisper things about your appearance. Sometimes you call them out, but not often. It can get tiring after a while.

“Hey,” you pause, wondering if it would be worth asking her any questions about this place. She probably doesn’t know any more than you do, but it’s worth a shot. 

“Do you have any idea where we are?”

The girl shrugs, “No. I just signed up to play some games, and now I’m here.”

You frown, “Maybe this is an illegal underground casino or something.”

She doesn’t look convinced, and to be honest, neither are you. It wouldn’t make sense to strip a bunch of poor people of their belongings and then make them gamble. Hell, even if you did have your stuff, you wouldn’t have enough money to play.

“We’ve all got numbers, maybe they mean something,” the girl suggests as she tugs on her tracksuit, drawing your attention to the badge stitched to her chest. 222. That’s an angel number, right? Maybe she’ll be a good luck charm or something.

You glance down at your own jacket and see that it says 221. “Looks like they’ve arranged our beds in the order of our numbers.”

222 looks like she’s about to agree with you, but is abruptly cut off by a loud buzzer before she can speak. The two of you shift your attention over to the metal doors, which are sliding open to reveal what can only be described as a squadron of pink men. Or, more accurately, men dressed in pink.

You lean over to 222, “Looks like the taxi drivers are back.”

She shoots you a confused look, before murmuring, “Those guys drove us here? They were just driving around in public like that?”

You nod, keeping your eyes fixed ahead. 222 must not have seen her driver then, which isn’t too hard to believe. You probably wouldn’t have paid yours much attention either if you weren’t so scared of being abducted. And there’s the fact that he nearly didn’t let you in the van, which led to that awkward staring contest. Maybe I should’ve taken that as a sign not to come- this place seems shady as hell.

The pink men begin filing out across what looks like a stage. They’re all wearing the same masks as before, though the one in the middle has a white square rather than a circle. He must be in charge, seeing as the others hang back to let him stand at the front.

“I would like to extend a hearty welcome to you all. Everyone here will participate in six different games over six days.”

Your heart sinks. Six whole days. What will Da-hye think? And what about your foster parents- will they even realise you’re gone? They’ll probably just assume you’re staying at Da-hye’s house.

No one will bother looking for me.

That’s a good thing though, isn’t it? You won’t have to explain to anyone why you disappeared. It’s easier if they don’t care... Right?

“Those who win all six games will win a handsome cash prize.”

A heavy silence falls on the dormitory as the information sinks in. In all honesty, you had sort of forgotten about the money- that wasn’t why you came here after all. This is for Da-hye. 

You’re still skeptical about the legitimacy of this whole thing. The fact that they still haven’t disclosed the precise amount of money is a little concerning. A ‘handsome cash prize’ could mean anything, depending on the person speaking.

“Excuse me.” 

You turn in the direction of the voice, slightly surprised to find that it belongs to a woman rather than a man. The people around her shuffle out the way as she moves closer to the middle. From where you’re sat, you can only see the back of her hair, and the number on her tracksuit: 120. 

“You said I’d be playing games, but you practically kidnapped me. How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”

Nice to see someone’s finally addressing the elephant in the room.

“I apologise.” The man replies, not sounding apologetic in the least. “Please understand that it was necessary to maintain the game’s security.”

It’s almost funny how blatantly sketchy he’s making the games sound. Maybe you’d have laughed if you weren’t so scared. 

“What’s with the mask then?” Someone else calls out, almost immediately after the square mask finishes his sentence. “Is your face also a secret?”

“Yeah! Why are you hiding your face? Is this some kind of illegal gambling house?”

You glance back at 222 as if to say, ‘See? I’m not the only person who thought this was an underground casino.’ 

She shrugs in response to your pointed look, probably too invested in the commotion below to care about your childish competitiveness.

“Even the dealers don’t cover their faces in those places.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes as everyone begins murmuring in nervous agreement. They aren’t gonna get any answers if they talk over the guy giving them information. 

This is basic classroom etiquette guys.

Finally the man in charge interrupts them, his voice remaining flat and robotic, likely due to some sort of modulator. Extra anonymity, you suppose. “To ensure fairness and confidentiality during the games, it is our policy not to reveal the faces and identities of staff. We ask for your understanding.” 

Why the fuck is remaining confidential so important? And why are their identities protected but not ours?

The obvious power imbalance here is already making your skin crawl. Those blank masks make it too easy to forget that there’s an actual person standing there. Someone human, like you. 

God, you already hate this place.

“Did you people strip me and put me in this?”

Your eyes flicker towards a girl in the crowd. She’s holding up her tracksuit top as if to make a point to the staff. Not that any of them seem affected by her discomfort, but at least someone is speaking up about how weird it is for them to change everyone’s clothes. 

“What’s with these shoes?” Another guy jumps in from nearby. “My shoes are fucking limited edition- they’re hard to find! Are you going to replace them if they get ruined?”

We’ve been abducted and this guy’s main worry is his shoes? Some people here need to get their priorities straight.

“They don’t fit and the colour sucks.” The girl from before adds. Her constant whining is beginning to piss you off. Yes, these outfits are an eyesore, but that’s a pretty minor issue compared to everything else going on.

“Can I just have what you’re wearing instead? I like pink.” And here you were thinking she couldn’t get any more annoying. 

The staff member doesn’t immediately respond. You almost feel pity for him, having to put up with so many idiots. It’s no wonder these people are broke- they’re probably too stupid to find a job.

“I’m sorry, but that won’t be possible. You must wear your uniforms for the games.” Somehow he sounds exasperated even through the voice modulator. 

“What about my phone? Why’d you take my phone and wallet? I want them back.” Someone else demands, shoving his way closer to the stage.

Clearly they’ve robbed us. What part of that is so hard to understand? 

“We’re keeping your belongings safe. They will be returned to you once the games are over.”

This guy is so full of shit. None of us are ever seeing our belongings again.

“At least give me my phone- I need to check the crypto market. If I lose money, will you compensate me?” 

The square mask sounds bored, as if he’s had this exact conversation a hundred times before. “We will return it to you once the games are over.”

“I need to monitor the real time prices. Do you know how much I’ve invested?” 

For the love of God, please shut up already.

“Player 333, Lee Myung-gi.” 

Lee Myung-gi finally stops arguing at the mention of his name. He, as well as everyone else, watches as the man on stage pulls out a remote. There’s a quiet beep, and then a large screen on the wall behind him turns on. All murmuring from the crowd stops as a video of him being slapped in the face plays for everyone to see. Well, that’s one way to shut him up.

“Age 30, used to run a YouTube channel called MG Coin. After convincing subscribers to invest in a new crypto coin called Dalmatian, causing losses of approximately 15.2 billion won, you shut down and disappeared.”

Oh shit, this guy isn’t holding back. 

From the corner of your eye, you notice 222 leaning forwards to peer at 333. Her fingers tug anxiously at the bedsheet as a look of apprehension crosses her face. Do they know each other?

You don’t say anything. It’s not your business, and frankly, you don’t really care. This girl isn’t a friend, you remind yourself firmly, she’s just here so you look a little less vulnerable. There’s safety in numbers, after all.

“You’re wanted for fraud and for violating telecom and financial investment laws. Current debt levels: 1.8 billion won.” 

You idly wonder how much enjoyment the square mask is getting out of humiliating 333. It’s hard to tell from just his tone, but the way he keeps rubbing salt into the wound? Yeah, this guy is definitely some kind of verbal sadist. 

The video switches to the girl who had been complaining about her clothes. Just like before, the man name-drops her in front of everyone and announces how much debt she’s in. You can’t help but feel a slither of satisfaction watching her get slapped by the guy behind the camera. Damn, maybe I’m a sadist too.

The humiliation continues as more and more players are called out. Initially, it’s only those who had spoken out against the games, but they soon run out and switch to people who had stayed silent.

“Player 221, Yeon Da-hye. 150 million won in debt.” A video of your friend flashes up on the screen. Just like all the others, she gets absolutely bitchslapped and nearly falls into a nearby bench. 

Holy shit. How did Da-hye manage to wrack up that much debt? And why didn’t she tell you about it? What else is she hiding from me?

You pretend not to notice 222’s questioning stare. It isn’t hard to guess what she must be thinking- what she so desperately wants to ask. You don’t offer up any explanation though, seeing as she hadn’t explained what her deal is with Player 333.

The montage ends with Player 100. “Im Jeong-dae… ten billion won in debt.”

You let out a small huff of disbelief, that makes Da-hye’s 150 million sound like nothing. Clearly everyone else is just as shocked as you are. Heads begin to turn in search for Player 100, and a chorus or murmuring starts to rise.

“What are you looking at?” He snaps at the players around him. “Do you think it’s easy to get a ten-billion-won loan? They don’t lend that kind of money to just anyone- only to those capable of paying it back!”

You glare down at him from your bunk. “Dunno why he’s so mad at us, it’s his own fault for getting into that much debt.” 

Player 222 nods in silent agreement. You’d sort of hoped she’d say something back, but then again, she doesn’t exactly seem like the chatty type. Not like Da-hye. 

She doesn’t need to be like Da-hye, you tell yourself. 222 isn’t your friend, she’s just some stranger you happen to be sharing a bunk with. You don’t need her approval, and you certainly don’t need her to like you. That would be nice, sure, but it’s definitely not a necessity. I just need to focus on winning that money. That’s what matters.

The staff member begins to speak again, pulling you from your thoughts. “All of you in this room have crippling debts, and are now on a cliff-edge.” 

Well, I for one don’t have crippling debts, but go on.

“When we first came to you, you did not trust us either. But as you know, we played a game and gave you money as promised. And so you trusted us and volunteered to participate according to your own free will. You have one last chance to decide. Do you want to live like a piece of trash, running from creditors? Or will you seize the last opportunity we are offering?”

Did he just compare you all to a piece of trash? Yep he did, wow, ok. These people are rude as fuck for no reason. Definitely sensing a lot of hatred towards poor people from that guy. Sure, the majority of people here seem to be losers with absolutely no hope whatsoever, but that can’t be everyone. 

I mean, I’m not like that, right? 

No, of course not. You’re not even in debt. Not yet at least.

The main lights suddenly cut out, and a giant gold piggy bank begins descending from a hatch in the ceiling. The guy on stage must’ve clicked a button on his remote whilst you weren’t paying attention. This seems very dramatic, having an actual piggy bank for the prize money. There's also absolutely nothing in it. Are they gonna fill it up later?

“What you see now,” the staff says in his monotone voice, “is the piggy bank where your valuable prize money will be stored. After each of the six games you will play, the prize money will accumulate in this piggy bank.” 

Called it.

Of course, some of the players immediately start asking questions. “How much is the prize money?”

“The prize money for the games is 45.6 billion won in total,” the pink guy answers robotically.

Your heart nearly skips a beat. 45.6 billion won? That would easily pay off Da-hye’s debts. Even with the two of you splitting it, you’d have enough money to buy, well pretty much anything. 

But what about everyone else? You can’t all get the money. There must be hundreds of people squashed together in the crowd below, all practically drooling over the prize money. How much would each person get? You look around for some sort of clue, before quickly realising that the answer is on the giant screen. 456- right, of course. That makes sense.

“And one of us will get it?” The same player from before demands.

“We will give you the details about the distribution of the prize money after the first game. For these games, we are introducing a special new advantage.” The man replies unhelpfully.

The old guy with the monstrous debt immediately pipes up, “What is it?” 

“After each game, you will be given a chance to vote on whether to continue the games or not. If the majority votes to stop the games, you can leave with the prize money accumulated up to that point.”

I doubt anyone here is gonna want to do that. Especially not Mr. 10-billion-won-in-debt.

“Are you saying we’ll still receive the money, even if we leave after the first game?” A man asks from the far end of the room. He sounds like he’s in complete disbelief at the new information. Is that guy mentally challenged? What part of this is so hard for him to understand?

The square mask pauses, “That is correct.”

You frown. Surely there must be a catch then, because why would anyone want to quit? 

“Good heavens. Excuse me!” There’s a commotion somewhere in the crowd. It’s hard to see exactly who’s talking, but from the voice alone, you assume it’s an elderly woman. 

“You idiot!” She cries, shoving one of the other players.

He stumbles back in shock. “Mum! What- what are you doing here?” 

You recognise this man as one of the players that had spoken up before. How unfortunate that he and his mum are both broke enough to end up here. It’s a bit embarrassing, really. 

“That’s what I wanted to ask you!” The old lady retaliates hotly, “What are you doing here?”

You can see him shushing her, lowering his voice to avoid being overheard by everyone else in the dormitory. It works on you, but that’s probably because you’re still sitting far away on your bed. It's hard to hear much from back here. 

“Embarrassing? If you knew what was embarrassing, you wouldn’t be here!” 

Listening to those two argue is what’s embarrassing, and you’re not even involved in their drama. You can’t imagine how humiliating this must be for the son- he looks like he wants to melt into the floor.

“Stop it. We’ll talk about this later.” He pleads, tugging on her arm.

“No, we won’t. Come on, you’re leaving.”

The way she drags him through the crowd is almost comical. Such a tiny woman practically manhandling a grown man. Is this what modern day feminism is supposed to look like?

“Mum, why did you come here?” The man, 007, asks. They’re both much closer to your bed now, so it’s easier to see their faces. “Do you realise where you are? This is no place for an old lady!”

“Why did I come here?” The mum repeats incredulously, “To pay off your debt, of course! What a stupid question.”

You can’t help but cringe at that. This poor woman feels that it’s her responsibility to fix her son’s financial problems. At this age, it should be him looking after her, certainly not the other way round. How old is this guy anyway? You’re not sure. Definitely too old to have his mum running around after him. 

007 turns to address the staff. “Why would you bring a naive old woman here? Will you take responsibility if my mum collapses?” 

At least he cares about her well-being. That counts for something, you suppose.

“Yong-sik, I’ll stay and do this. You go home.” 149 pleads with her son, desperately gripping his arm. 

With the way this is going, you hope both of them will just leave. You’re getting a headache listening to them bicker.

“Stop it! I’m already here- I can’t just leave.”

You sneak a glance over at the square mask, hoping he’ll intervene. Unfortunately, that doesn't seem likely, judging by how intently he’s watching the two players. Damn, even the staff is invested in their fight. That’s not very professional of them.

“But you promised me. You promised never to gamble again!” 

Wow. She does not care about humiliating him at all. The second-hand embarrassment you’re feeling is almost becoming unbearable.

The son grabs 149 by her shoulders and leans in close. “No, this isn’t gambling. We’re just playing games here. I’ll just play one game and go.”

Famous last words…

The elderly woman immediately begins trying to fight her way out of his grip. “You idiot, it’s the same thing. Stop arguing with me!”

Finally, the square mask grows tired of their dispute and sternly interrupts them. “If you wish to participate in the games, please sign the player consent form. Those who do not wish to participate, please speak up now.” 

The main lights flicker back on, and the circle guards step down from the platform to set up their stations. Some of the players have already started forming lines, so you quickly climb down to join them. Wouldn’t want to end up at the back.

You file in behind 009, ignoring the odd looks some of the other players are giving you.

Someone from the line to your right even has the audacity to refer to you by your number. “That 221 seems a little young to be here. Do you think she even speaks Korean?” 

You turn around and glare at the man speaking. “My Korean is fine, thanks. And I’m old enough to look out for myself- I’m not a child.”

The stranger stutters out an apology, clearly very flustered. You scoff, before turning back ahead. The person in front finishes signing the form, and then moves away to allow you to take her place.

You quickly read the contents of the paper, surprised by how little text there is.

PLAYER CONSENT FORM

CLAUSE 1: Players are prohibited from voluntarily quitting the game.

CLAUSE 2: A player who refuses to play will be eliminated.

CLAUSE 3: The games may be terminated upon a majority vote. In case of a tie, the players will vote again.

CLAUSE 4: If the games are terminated, players will divide the prize equally.

Signature: _____________

You reread the sheet one more time to make sure you haven’t missed any information. Nope, you definitely read it all. There’s only four clauses, which makes it practically impossible to overlook anything.

This is your last chance to get out of this. If you refuse to sign, they’ll (hopefully) drop you back off at the bus station and you can return to the safety of your home. Or rather, your foster parents’ home. Still, anything would be better than here.

The majority of the players seem to trust the staff to some degree. Maybe it’s because they played ddakji and you didn’t. Or maybe they’re just desperate enough to ignore all of the glaring red flags. Is the money important enough for everyone to forget that these people basically kidnapped you all? Something shady is definitely going on, and yet you’re the only person who’s actually worried.

You’re about to tell the circle mask that you don’t want to play, when a sudden thought makes you stop. This money isn’t for me, it’s for Da-hye. I made a promise to help her. 

You refuse to admit to yourself that you’re also doing this out of fear. You’ve never coped well with rejection or abandonment. If Da-hye ever decides that you aren’t useful, or your friendship is becoming a burden, then she’ll leave. That fact has haunted you for a long time. Sometimes it’s just a hint of anxiety in the back of your mind, whilst other times it consumes your every thought. 

Right now, you know that you’re letting your fear of abandonment dictate your choices. That’s dangerous, especially in a place like this. The only problem is, you don’t know how dangerous it is. It’s impossible to properly weigh out your options, because both are uncertain. Da-hye might not leave you, and these games might not be shady at all. 

So, which will it be? You’re running out of time here. The people behind are becoming impatient. 

“Player 221, you must either sign the consent form now, or step aside if you do not wish to participate.”

Fuck, just sign it. You’ll be fine- there’s loads of other people here too.

You swallow down the lump in your throat and sign your name across the line. The staff member is holding out a hand ready for you to give him your form. You hastily shove it towards him and step away from the table.

I’m definitely gonna regret signing that later.

To make matters worse, the route to your bunk is blocked. Player 333 is standing with his back to you, facing off the guy who had been complaining about his shoes. There’s another player too- 124. He seems like a total suck-up for 230.

“I watched your content all day, every day. Now I even see you in my dreams, motherfucker.”

Uh oh, sounds like purple hair was a victim of MG Coin's crypto channel. This won’t end well. You shuffle closer to one of the bedframes, sensing that things might escalate. 

Purple hair leans against his friend slightly, “What was your name, Nam-su right?”

“It’s Nam-gyu,” The one with the bob replies, “from Club Pentagon.”

“Ahh right.” 230 doesn’t seem to be paying any attention to his friend. All his focus is on MG Coin, who is starting to look nervous. “Thanks to you, I bonded quickly with Nam-gyu here. Because we shared the same pain.”

Neither of them seem particularly pained right now. Especially not Nam-gyu, who looks like he’s trying not to laugh at everything his friend is saying.

There’s definitely some unrequited love going on between these two.

Having finished his mini monologue, 230 abruptly turns around and walks off, leaving 124 alone with 333. “I thought the sons of bitches who made that coin fled to the Philippines with the money. So why are you here? Did they cut you loose?” 

You aren’t sure whether to try and slip past now or just wait for this altercation to be over. Which choice would be safer?

“What do you want from me?” 

230 suddenly throws himself at 333, appearing from seemingly nowhere. He grabs the shorter man by the neck and leans in close, “What do you think? Give me my money.”

You press yourself further into the metal structure, glad that you decided not to try and sneak past. There’s a loud pounding in your chest, though you know you aren’t in any immediate danger. It’s not me they have a problem with. I’m innocent.

Just stay invisible. Stay out of their way.

“Did I force you to buy that coin?” 333 retorts, pulling himself free.

“You told us to get it all, you fucker. You swore it’d shoot up.” 230 looks deranged. His eyes are wide and his teeth are bared, like a feral animal. He doesn’t look human at all. “You said we’d be fucking idiots if we didn’t buy it!”

Somehow, MG Coin remains cool through it all. “You are responsible for the final decision on your investment. Didn’t you hear me say that at the end? You said you watched every day.”

For a moment, it seems as though 230 has calmed down. That is, until he launches himself at the other player only a second later. “You asshole!”

Nam-gyu immediately pulls him away from 333. “Hey, calm down. Stop it.” 

“Get off me.” 333 snarls at Nam-gyu’s buddy. “Get the fuck off me!” 

You start trying to inch past the trio. Everyone nearby is watching now, which makes you slightly uncomfortable. Sure, you aren’t the main focus, but there’s definitely some players who are looking at you. Not just looking, but staring. They’re probably wondering how someone so young ended up in a place like this. You’re beginning to wonder that too.

Nam-gyu finally releases 230, who uses his newfound freedom to threaten MG Coin one last time. “You’d better win these fucking games, because I’m coming to get my money back.” 

Chills. Literal chills.

The two men abruptly turn around and leave 333 alone. You watch as they walk away, accidentally catching Nam-gyu’s eye as he passes by. His amusement briefly turns to curiosity as he takes in your appearance, though it doesn’t last long. Only a few seconds, and then he turns his attention back towards 230.

They’re too absorbed by their own lives to notice me. In fact, most people here probably are. If I can just fade into the background, then everything will be ok. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It takes a while, but eventually everyone finishes signing the forms. The staff directs everyone out of the dormitory and into an oddly designed hall. At least, that’s what you think it is. The walls are painted in an array of pastel pinks and yellows, with hints of sea green. It looks like a children’s play centre that’s been reconstructed from memory. Just slightly too eery to feel nostalgic. 

You step into the space and look up. The ceiling is unusually high, with unnecessarily complicated staircases twisting in and out of different rooms. No- not rooms. They look more like plastic houses made for kids. Pretty on the outside, but completely empty within.

There’s definitely something off about this place.

You fidget with the sleeve of your fleece and step into one of the lines. It seems that you’re all being made to take a picture. Maybe this is an ID thing? Crap, you hope not. They'll definitely realise you aren’t Da-hye if that’s the case.

There’s a small commotion off to the side. You glance over to find a swarm of players clinging onto 230. Wow, you really can’t avoid this guy. He’s popping up everywhere.

Unsurprisingly, Nam-gyu is there with him, speaking on his friend’s behalf. “Let’s make this easier on Thanos and take one picture together.”

Thanos? That name rings a bell. You stare at him intently, trying to figure out who he is. With the way everyone’s fawning over him, he must be famous. Not anyone you recognise though. Ah, maybe Da-hye’s mentioned him to you before. He’s probably some niche celebrity she’s obsessed with. 

Yeah, he seems like her type.

“Are you gonna go or not?” A voice from behind grumbles. You twist around to see a middle aged man staring down at you, his expression an ugly mix of irritation and disgust. Jeez, what’s his problem?

You scowl at him before turning back and stepping into the booth. There’s a screen on the wall displaying a giant smiley face with text in both Korean and English. Well, at least your abductors are inclusive.

An automated voice cheerily begins to instruct you on what to do, “Please look at the camera.”

You glance up at the camera unenthusiastically. 

“Smile!” Yeah, not a fucking chance. 

You stare ahead blankly as the camera flashes, and then walk away without bothering to look at the preview. You don’t need to see a photo to know that you look rough as hell. Most people here do, so at least you won’t stand out.

You make your way over to the stairs and follow the slow moving chain of people up to the top. 222 has seemingly vanished, which is slightly concerning. You’d almost forgotten about her after all the drama Thanos caused earlier, but now that he’s finally out of sight, her absence is more noticeable.

Whatever, I don’t even know her. It’s not like we’re gonna stay in touch after all this.

You finally finally reach the top. There’s a large crowd of players filing through a doorway that’s far too narrow considering how many of you there are. Your heartbeat quickens hopefully at the apparent sunlight on the other side. 

Thank God. Maybe I can try and figure out where we are.

You eagerly shove your way through the opening, only to find that your surroundings aren’t real. Is this some sick joke? You’re outside, yes, but surrounded by four towering walls painted to look like a field. They stretch high enough to obscure anything that isn’t the sky, making it impossible to decipher where you are. Is this what zoo animals feel like? Trapped in a box that’s made to look like freedom. It almost feels like they’re taunting you.

That same voice from before rings out from some hidden speaker. “Welcome to the first game. All players, please wait a moment on the field. Let me repeat. All players, please wait for a moment on the field.”

I’d hardly call this a field.

Despite your growing trepidation, you find yourself obeying the voice. Well, not that you have much of a choice, but it’s comforting to pretend for a moment that you have a shred of autonomy left. 

“Hey, you there- 221.”

You stop in your tracks and turn around at the mention of your number. Thanos is staring straight at you, with the annoying girl from earlier hovering beside him. She looks you up and down judgmentally, seemingly annoyed that you've somehow caught Thanos’s attention.

He takes a step forward, “How old are you? You’re a teenager right?”

You aren’t sure whether to lie or not. Are minors allowed in this place? Probably not. Then again, he doesn’t seem like the type to rat you out to the staff. “Yeah, I’m a teenager.”

His face lights up at the confirmation, and he slings an arm over your shoulder. God, this guy is weird. Maybe he’s on drugs or something. 

“Ahah! I knew you were a kid. You know who I am, right? You listen to any rap?”

Ah, he’s a rapper. That makes sense. He must be trying to show off his fans to try and impress the girl- player 196. I might as well just play along. Wouldn’t wanna piss him off or anything like that.

“Yeah, you’re Thanos. My friend and I listen to your music sometimes. She’s a big fan.” It’s technically not a lie. Da-hye has probably forced you to listen to him in the past, you just can’t remember. All those rappers she likes sound the same to you. 

Thanos playfully shakes you by your shoulder, before returning his attention to the girl. “See? I’m pretty well known. You should join us in the Thanos world.” 

Before 196 can reply, a loud clang cuts through the air. Everyone around you begins murmuring, and your two new acquaintances suddenly lose interest in their conversation. Just in time- you were beginning to grow bored of being their third wheel.

The automated voice begins to speak again. “The first game is Red Light, Green Light.”

What the fuck? You let out a small huff of disbelief. This might be easier than you had originally thought. Thanos’s arm falls from your shoulder as he listens to the information beside you.

“This’ll be easy,” he murmurs, before glancing over at you and 196, “you two can stay with me, Thanos won’t lose.” 

Sticking with him doesn’t sound particularly appealing, but seeing as 222 has disappeared, you don’t have much choice. Sure, you could just do it alone, but sticking with these two sounds marginally safer.

“Cross the finish line without getting caught in five minutes. If you succeed, you will pass.” The instructions seem a bit unnecessary, but maybe there’s some people here who have never played Red Light, Green Light before. Unlikely, but possible you suppose.

Before the voice can even finish, a man shoves his way to the front and begins yelling. “Everyone!” He shouts, “Everyone, listen up! Pay attention!”

The rest of the players fall silent. Probably more so out of curiosity than obedience. You shuffle to the side a little to try and get a better look at him. It’s player 456- a remarkably ordinary looking man. He must be somewhere in his 40s or 50s, with short, dark hair and tired brown eyes. His face looks gaunt, like his skin has begun to sink into his skull. This man definitely has a lot of unresolved issues.

“Listen carefully! This is not just a game. If you lose, you die!”

Everyone around you begins murmuring uncomfortably, some nervous, others annoyed. Thanos scoffs and exchanges a glance with 196, “This guy’s fucking crazy.”

You shift uneasily. He’s probably right, 456 doesn’t seem mentally stable at all, but you can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen. Things aren’t quite adding up. There’s got to be a catch here, death or not, the staff are definitely hiding something from you. 

“Hey! What are you talking about? We’re going to die playing Red Light, Green Light?” A woman calls from the crowd, her voice laced with skepticism.

456 is almost hysterical now, “Yes, that’s right! If they catch you moving, they will kill you! They will shoot you from somewhere!”

The girl beside Thanos sounds amused, “That guy must be drunk. He says they’ll shoot us if we lose.”

He leans over to reply, “He sounds like my old man when he gets home drunk and starts talking crazy. Says there’s a freaking bug in his head.”

You aren’t sure what’s more interesting: Thanos’s alcoholic dad, or 456’s paranoia. 

“That dolls' eyes are motion detectors!” The old man continues, his voice raw with fear. “Stay on your toes!” 

Thanos snickers, “See? Talking about devices.” 

You snort softly, earning a surprised glance from the rapper. He must’ve forgotten you’re still here standing beside him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Someone yells back at 456.

Another player jumps in, “I think he’s trying to scare us so he can win the prize money.”

“Don’t pull any tricks, asshole!”

You may not trust him either, but it doesn’t seem like he’s doing this to scare you. That fear in his eyes is genuine, so either he’s telling the truth, or he’s completely delusional. For your own sake, you hope it’s the latter.

“You have to believe me!” 456 snarls back.

There’s a mechanical whirring from the far end of the ‘field’. You glance over and realise there’s been a giant doll over there this whole time that you failed to notice. It slowly turns around and moves a giant arm up to rest against a tree.

Ok. That’s not terrifying at all.

“Don’t be alarmed! No matter what happens, do not panic and start running!” 

The crowd remains silent this time. Even Thanos, who clearly isn’t taking this man seriously, doesn’t crack another joke.

The automated voice cuts through the air. “Let the game begin.” 

A five minute timer flickers on, and the doll begins to sing. Almost immediately, everyone starts urgently walking forwards. You stay in line with Thanos and 196, but keep your eyes fixed on 456, who seems to be directing the crowd.

“Freeze!” 

Why is he yelling so much? It’s pretty obvious that you’re all supposed to stop moving when the doll turns around.

“Well done! You just need to stay calm like this!” The man shouts. “We just have to move and stop at the right time.”

You aren’t sure whether to find his confidence admirable or irritating. He certainly has some nerve, shouting orders at everyone and then praising you all like school children.

The doll turns around, and the cycle repeats. The song plays, 456 screams, and no one gets eliminated. You keep following your new teammates, who aren’t paying you much attention. That’s probably for the better though, considering how vocal they had been earlier in the dormitory. 

“Freeze! Nobody move!”

“Is he high or what?” You hear 196 say to Thanos.

“Nope.” He replies in English, which catches you off guard. This guy’s bilingual? Wow, today really is full of surprises. “No one is like that when they’re high.” 

I bet you’d know all about that.

“You’ve been high?” 

Obviously. I’d be surprised if he hadn’t been high before.

Thanos pauses for a second, “You interested?”

196 doesn’t immediately reply. At first, you assume she hadn’t heard him, but then you notice the bee hovering by her neck, and it all clicks. Shit, this girl must be scared of bugs.

“What’s that?” Her voice is shaky. 

You pray silently that Thanos won’t say anything about it. It’s not that you particularly care whether she passes or not, but 456’s warnings are still fresh in your mind. He’s probably just a lunatic, but you can’t help but feel nervous. Ok, understatement of the year- you’re anxious as hell, but that’s probably because you’ve technically been abducted. 

“He knows you’re a flower.” Thanos whispers. “There’s a bee on you.”

“A bee?” 196 screams and stumbles to the side, desperately fanning the bug away from her neck. 

Your heart drops. She’s going to be eliminated.

It seems as though she's suddenly realised the same thing, because the panic abruptly stops after a couple of seconds. 

“Crap. I just moved.” 

As soon as she says that, a loud bang disrupts the silence, and 196 folds over, hitting the ground with a thud. Something warm and sticky sprays onto your face, but you don’t move. Not even to blink. You don't need to look at the body to know what just happened. 

Somehow, your mind feels numb- detached. You don’t feel any more scared than you did before. Just focused. This isn’t a difficult game, you can win. You will win. You’ve faced death before, watched people die, and yet you continue to live. This won’t be your downfall.

There’s a loud pounding in your chest that drowns out everything else. Even as the players around you begin to scream, and another wave of gunshots ripples through the air, you stay still, grounded by your heartbeat. As long as you can hear that pulse, you know you’ll be fine. They won’t kill you if you do as they say. Just like last time, you will survive. You always do.

The ugly chorus of death finally ceases, and the automated voice begins speaking again. Her words sound alien and hollow, like your brain is hearing Korean for the first time. Nothing sounds human anymore. Or is it you that isn’t human? Have you already reduced yourself to something lower? Perhaps. It’s easier to survive when you aren’t clinging to morals and expectations of how to react. Just breathe, and play the game.

The song plays again, but this time you don’t move. No one does. You’re all too keenly aware of the possibility of death. It’s strange how easy it is to ignore something so universally feared when you believe you have years of life left. The illusion of immortality- a delusion that most people suffer from. Not you though, not after that night. Any day could be your last, you’ve known that for a long time. Perhaps that’s why you’re able to stay focused despite your fear. Ignoring one’s own mortality is a learned skill that you happen to have a lot of practice in. 

The doll’s head swivels round to scan the crowd for a few seconds, and then abruptly turns back to the wall. 

The music begins, and still, everyone remains frozen. Everyone except 456, who’s darting between players like he’s been practicing for this very moment. You watch him for a moment before glancing back at Thanos. He’s fiddling with something, but from where you’re standing, it’s hard to tell what it is.

“You will also die if you don’t make it in time!” 456 shouts from the front. “That doll is a motion detector, but it can’t detect motion that’s not visible to it! Get behind someone bigger than you, like you’re playing follow the leader! We’re running out of time- we’ve got to move!”

As soon as the doll turns around, you start to run, making a conscious effort to stay as low as possible. The game continues with minimal gunshots for the next few rounds, until Thanos suddenly lurches forwards, and everyone in front falls to the ground.

Shit.

You freeze behind him, forced to watch as three more players are shot dead. Dark puddles begin to expand across the ground beneath them, staining the dirt red. 

The way it slowly crawls towards you is horrifyingly familiar, like spilled ink, staining its memory into your brain. Suddenly you're back in your childhood home, watching the same scene unfold on your living room floor. You can feel it sliding down your cheek from where you hurriedly smeared it across your face. Your limbs freeze in place, petrified, playing dead, praying that those men would believe that bullet to your shoulder had killed you. You didn't even dare to breathe then. You certainly don't breathe now.

Did Thanos fall? No, he can’t have- that wouldn’t have been possible from the way he was standing.

Your blood runs cold at the realisation. 

He pushed them.

Your instincts scream at you to get as far away from Thanos as possible, but you know you mustn’t move. It’ll be too risky trying to switch lines now. 

Just hide. As soon as this game ends don’t let him find you. He’ll kill you. He’s just like them.

The doll sings again, and you move.

Keep running, pretend not to notice all the people on the floor. Just make it to the end.

“Let’s go!” 456’s voice cuts through the air. 

You must be getting near the finish line now, though it’s hard to tell behind all these people. The lines are becoming less structured as players become braver. Thanos is practically skipping past everyone at this point, so you’re at a safer distance now. He must be on drugs or something, because no sane person would find joy in this much death. 

That must be what was in the cross.

Yeah, you should definitely avoid him at all costs.

Beep.

You stop just before the finish line. The doll turns around, and three more people die. Most players are on the other side now, including 456. You accidentally lock eyes with him, and his face drops. 

For a moment everything is silent, but then he begins to shout, still not breaking eye contact with you. “You can do this! You’re almost there!”

Is that aimed at just me or all of us? 

You don’t have time to dwell on it, because the music begins to play again. Your vision is beginning to blur at the edges, but you still manage to throw yourself across the painted line on the floor.

I did it.

A quiet, broken laugh slips through your lips. Your bones feel hollow, too light to hold you up, but that doesn’t matter anymore. You don’t fight as your knees buckle and give way- the ground feels more stable anyway. More safe. 

Though deep down, you know you aren’t in any less danger than before. There’s five more games to go, and you don’t trust a single person here not to throw you under the bus if it means they’ll have a better chance at winning. You’re completely alone now, and playing with your life for money you don’t even need. 

I am completely, utterly fucked.