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Rated: E · Prose · Drama · #2310446
Squid game re-telling?
"Hey, Jack!!," I call out the landowner's name. Jack was the landowner of this town for the past couple years. He had had been sympathetic throughout the years of my mother's situation. Walking up to him, my flesh tightens the closer I get to him. The heart beats heighten from the vivid features in his face. More of angelic knight brought down on everyone here.



"I paid for this. Full amount!"



"Fatma, I have the payments from all these years, and not once have your full amount. I can't keep saying your ass, "Jack sighed almost sympathetic. However, in the underworld of business lies what one cannot understand, especially as a low class as me.



"Jack, I'm begging you, give me till the end of this month. I am trying. Every day," My lower lids swell up with tears. clearing the rats of this long street. I feel blood drip and drip slowly as I sniff. My teeth grit as I cannot scream. The hairs on my body stand up from the fear and worry. My chest tightens, for my heart has reached the entrance, waiting for the moment to burst.



Jack inhaled deeply. His shaky breath struck my face as the light of hope was cast on me. As he agreed to this final agreement, I had sprung to him joyfully. The raindrops finally reach the sewage and now the flows seem free again. The bright the sky has become clear of sun rays that gleam softly to our soft kissed cheeks. It indeed was my lucky day as the wheel struck on me.



I excused myself to the ringing of hell had called. Blood reached my forehead, leaving it nearly impossible to keep ground. The Grim Reaper had made its visit, and I had just gotten a chance for the final goodbye.



"Doctor Williams! Doctor!" My lungs no longer hold such polluted air. I reach for a handle to compose my peace. "Is my mother alright?! I came as soon as I heard."



"Your mother is fine, but she doesn't have enough time. We need the money, or else we won't be able to proceed with the surgery. I understand your condition, but I am giving my final offer. Last month. No more begging. Understand?" He spoke with sincerity. It put me on edge. Feeling the cracks of geo break beneath my feet, the weight of debt was now my life's purpose.



I thank him. I feel the tears pour once again. Had the wheel stopped, had the luck of mine spilled all its juice on nothing? I had worked hard enough yet its problem after problem. My throat had become sore from all the guilt and shame I swallowed. My mother had now been prepared for the corset of the casket. My rent had now scattered that my fingers go numb. That my mind goes blank. That my tears no longer flow for how much I have been exhausted.



I am tired. But how can I scream if im underwater?

Who is there to bring me up?

Should I swim through the empty miles to eternity.



Swimming through the endless rivers, I had found comfort in pain. I found myself through the reflections of my teardrops. From growing up tight, the rainfall doesn't stop its dance.



If I knew my actions lead to worse, I would've jumped off.



Many years ago, on September 30th, I would've faced death himself as I walked to its hands, The rim wide trail let my feet place perfectly as it waited for me. It heared my heart wrenching screams and let me be pleased through the small bites of the underground.



"FATMA! DON'T JUMP! PLEASE DEAR, DON'T!"



Who was the one screamed for me?

My mother.

Where is she?

In the grave that was sculptured for me.

Why?

Why, mother?



Oh, take me back to the night you saved me.



Back to reality, the radio plays my heart's melody as I drown in a sea of tears. My cries are a silent storm, thundering within the metal cocoon.





"Oh shi-" The brushstrokes against the window view my pain as I roll down the paper and end the story.



"Erm, how can I help you?" The older man stood before me, leaving the door between us. The chemical reaction weakly explodes as the opportunity is handed to me by hand.



"What is this? Who are you?" I ran my hands through the fine print of 'Hollows wishes" as the company provided me with a number. Its gold print confined me to call it. Ask it. Yearn for it.



He remains quiet and runs off into thin dust. The shadows are his getaway, as I cannot run after them.



Coward.



Through my wildest imagination, I punched in the number and waited for the rings to welcome me. No answer the first time. Another try. No answer again. At this point, the will of faith had left scars on my heart, and now I'm lost.



What should I do? I thought. I thought hard for the pain strokes to disappear. I suck in the thick air of leather and let time take me away slowly.



TICK-TOCK! The compelling clock ticks from the car had pulled into the world of nightmares like a ship caught in a rough current.



"Goodnight, Fatma," Sang the mind of a depressing song.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------





Ugh, where am I? Did I knock my head too hard?



How did I even get here?



Chatters cover my ears with their cold hands. Allowing me to drift off into another adventure. The eyes of mine glue apart by the bright light. I sit up straight, looking around for whatsoever unusuality I may seek.



Into a room full of maggots, the cool air brushes my lashes up as the bedsheets sink into my body, letting me float on clouds 1,2,3. Sectioned at the top, my luck was on timeout. Clothes on, the rest of the hopes awaken within me.

I hop off my bed at 5a, last at the ceiling, straight for survival.



On the way to the seventh floor, I am welcomed with stares and grinned smiles. Their proud chatters play a soft melody, allowing to blend in smoothly. The ladders of beds align by side around us as we crown in the middle.



The opening to the pit of fire is blocked by hard metal. I run my fingers across it.



Fire resistance.



SCREEECH! The mic at the intercoms scratches my eardrums for blood--the groans of many along with me as the game of our lives begins.

"Hello, players. You have now participated in this activity of whether you survive out of here with 100 million yen in your bank accounts!! I know, sounds nearly impossible." A man's voice sounded mischievously evil. He was excited and aware. Was death coming for us? Or were we walking towards it?



"To not let you guys burst of eagerness, the rules of this game decide if you remain one of the players here. We will provide you with safety, food, and hygiene. However, must you all be dogs in debt and kiss the asses of the upper classes? HAHA! Anyway, I'm not the one dying; good luck everyone!!"



"HEY! Wait-" A tattooed man yells at the intercom as we have lost hope until we die for it.



"For your first round, you all will playing a game called 'Foxy's time to eat!' The rule is that each of you will be playing an ordinary game of hide and seek. However, if you are caught, you will be eliminated."



We all run to the gates of the inferno lighting inside of us of we have now become hungry dogs, killing for money. Greed has taken over us. Greed has now become the key to success in this world.



DING!! The sound of alarms alerts us of the start. The gates close and now we must eat the dirt of our graves to survive.



"AHH!"

"AHHHHH!"

"NO!!"



Hollowing misery is found everywhere.



Left, right, above, below.



In my right mind, those weren't happy screams. They had let their greediness into their hearts and now the blood spills painfully. Out of their ears, their eyes, their lips.





I peek out of the dark corner at the very end of this maze. Blood splatters on the wall and question me for a test I did not know. This let me imagine the possible interpretations for this. Reaped bodies place themselves as tombs around us. The second alarm goes off, and I run till the heart of mine explodes as it has for others.



Not looking back for anything or anyone.



Through the maze, the air hung heavy with an unsettling stillness, broken only by the distant echoes of my own rapid breaths. The rough walls pressed in on me from all sides, their uneven surfaces casting eerie shadows that danced menacingly in the low light.



As I stumbled through the convoluted corridors, the maze seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction, a puzzle designed to confound and entrap. It was as if the very walls of the maze were closing in, a sinister force conspiring to ensnare me within its inescapable clutches.



My pulse quickened, its erratic beats reverberating through my entire being, as a guttural growl echoed behind me. The unsettling sound sent shivers down my spine, and I instinctively quickened my pace, my footsteps now a frantic symphony of desperation. Panic gripped my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs, and beads of cold sweat formed on my forehead.



Glancing over my shoulder, I caught a glimpse of shadowy figures lurking in the corners of the labyrinth, their malevolent eyes fixated on me with an insatiable hunger. The oppressive atmosphere closed in like a vice, and every turn I took seemed to lead me deeper into the heart of my torment.

The walls became a blur as I navigated the maze's intricate twists and turns, my breaths ragged and laboured. Every dead end, every wrong choice, fueled the encroaching dread that I was running out of time. Each corner turned brought with it the haunting uncertainty of what lay beyond.



A victory I succeed. Rather than some alive, all catching their lunges as the intercom summons himself again. Shaking our souls to the very dark red, bathed in blood, has this become my new mono?


"Congratulations to all of you!! Now, that was one heck of a game, am I right?"



"Aye! You are killing us, man! My f---ing friends are dead because of you! I'm out of here." Another man, in his 40s, spoke his heart but was crushed with scoffs.



Now, we have become the jesters.



"You have all joined this game. Why are you turning the tables on me? I am not the one who would allow upper-class men to step on my face and beg them for more just for a promotion!! You all are desperate for this. It shows rom how you would sacrifice yourselves for some papers! I have said that twice now, and this is the last. You will all play the three rounds for precious money on your cards that are stuck to your asses for attention. God..." Stunned by his words, we must all hold on to the last breaths. I gaze around the room; everyone's head are down. Ashamed for disobeying their master.



Dogs.



"The second round begins tomorrow, and I'd love to see all of you get what you all deserve. As for now, you all may rest. Sleep well." It goes off the speakers, so on the lights, and now, we stay by the shadows of us. Hiding. Surviving. Not trusting anyone.



My eyes glued apart, not letting me end this day yet. Was it warning me of something? Was someone about to detest in the dark? No, they are all asleep. Ever since I came here, I have been unable to speak or rest. The trauma had begun to grow. I sit up and walk down the stairs of section A to the centre of which lies the tremendous, large gate. No winds, no holes to see what lies there. Shivers run down my spine, a marathon that runs through my whole body, hair, and veins.



To the adventures I search for, a girl by 2b had told me to be quiet. I barely moved, but she must be a light sleeper.



"Sorry," my whispers echoed through this large hall. It was making me pale against its will. She had approached me from the corner of my eye, making me uneasy. Now, at the centre of this room stands two warriors. Facing the battle of the darkness, but would she betray me? Or would she stay by my side? Was she the one to play the tricks? Or was it someone else?



What a place not trustworthy enough.



"What do you want?" I murmured, feeling too much of suspicion.

"Nothing. Just a truce." She held her hand out, waiting for the shake of the world to crumble. It had been too sudden. Too casual.



"Seem suspicious right? I have a baby sister," she paused, smiling. "She is 10 years younger than me. Our parents barely managed to act as grown adults, so I had to take the position. Sacrificing my own life, with debt and her entering puberty, it's getting hard."



"I'm exhausted." She breathed in." Will I win this? Probably not. I am so terrified for what's to get me, but for her, I will sacrifice my own life."



I look at her. Speechless.



She began walking away, letting our agreement fade. "Don't let them get to your head. It's only getting crazier by the hour."



She left me off her hook. Leaving the gaze of hers, I maintained to quietly tippy toe to my mattress.



With all the betrayal and screams, would she do this?



I don't know.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------



"Good morning, 150 remaining players! I hope you all enjoy these festive days, so get out of bed and munch on the foodies we provided. The rounds start in an hour. Enjoy~" The intercom rises the roof gate above us. The smiling sunshine kisses us as we have turned pale, sucked out of all the juice from what was witnessed.



Gazing at the light before me, I smile for I can't waste a moment like this. I bring my head to eye level, 2b catches my attention. Seeing her down had brough my hand up, waving to her, she finds me through the tough crown.



Curles on the lips, so do I. Loud panics bring us to the second round.



Let the demon inside of us guide us.



--------------------------------------------------------------------------



"OH MY GOD! HOW THE HELL DID WE SURVIVE THAT?!" A woman in her 18s-19s had screamed to the top of her lungs with highlighted hair that ran down her shoulders. Long stripes enough to be hidden in camouflage.



That's an advantage.



"Ma'am, you have cheated," said a guard, masked with a numerical icon at his mask, dedicating his position here.



"Excuse me, I won this round fair and square."

"We know, but from the rules, all players, must end in an equal number. Which means that 51 is too much, so one player must die, and by the votes given by your friends, they have all picked you."



"WHAT?! ARE YOU GUY'S SERIOUS?!"



RA-TA-TA-TA! The gun hit aspects of her delicate body as she, indeed, cheated. She had lost the second round due to poor guessing; this may help her better in the afterlife.



"50 PLAYERS! What a strike! I am so proud of my little dogs. So obedient, except for player number 51. Anyhow, congratulations once again. May you all 'survive this final round tonight!" The intercom is interrupting our thoughts through his pleasurable death.



"Wait, it's tonight?!" One of the players said once again.



"Yes, tonight! Now get ready. The guards have prepared your suits."



Suits? Are we attending a funeral?



Oh, we are at the funeral.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------



As the ladies' finish showering, a fight occurs in the centre of where I stood last night. The sun's light beamed on the menu, glistening bodies that had ganged up on a man who seemed to be in his 20s-30s. He was handsome with his muscular body, which struck me, but why wasn't he fighting back?



He eyed me as if I was the one at fault. His eyes speak many emotions and words I can't put together. Those eyes tell me to solve a puzzle when the pieces are perfectly placed. I look away and walk up to my bed. His gaze burns into my skin as the stairs get longer and higher.



He wanted me to solve the puzzle, but was it the puzzle that needed to be solved, or was it me to rearrange the story?



After the fighting, the men had calmed down. Letting the handsome man alone, he had been badly bruised and bleeding through his lips.



Within seconds, he had appeared in front of my bed. The stairs connected to my bed had been the seat for him, his throne to claim me.



But what if I want him to? Sure, in this world of chaos and insanity, he had been the prince charming for me.



Bruised and blood everywhere, he pleaded softly from his eyes. His eyebrows scrunched together to pain the free away from my touch.



"What's your name?"

"Micheal. Micheal waters."

"Well, how can I help you, Michael?" The shivers have returned like the night before. Was it he who stared at me? Was it him that made me tense and crumble?



"I want us to team up."



"Why does everyone want to team up with me suddenly?!"



"Because you are special. You may not know it, but you are a saint protecting us under your will."



"What? I had done nothing for the past 2 days but save my own life here. The ego inside of me is wearing out and you think I can manage all of you?"



"It's your choice, Fatma,"

"Why me?"

"What?"

"Why me?"

"Well, because you have met my sister. Jessy? From 2b?" He spoke softly.



I sigh out in agreement. Her name was Jessy.



"Yeah her. So, she asked me to come up to you and convince you for the three of us in a trio. So would you agree on those terms" That painful cracked voice of his sent me to rest on cloud 9.



The question hovered above me as the dark, rainy cloud that would always follow the miserable ones. I had never spoken a simple cough to anyone here.



I nod. Micheal nods.



Shall the best get to us.



"Wow, wow, wow!! You all look fabulous. Shall we continue?" the man in disguise brought me out of the dark shell. Protecting myself with the arms that go numb, with knees that crumble from the overpowering circulation.



The yes's of many sent an erratic shake to these fragile walls.



"As for the rules, you must be in a group of four players. The game is called "Hearts with Stabs." It is logical just from the name. Now, Let the absolute round begin!!!"



The gates of the final hell opened. The atrocity was now the enemy of mine. I face with pure dismay, yet I do not show it.



Micheal and Jessy had followed me to the centre of the fire. With a random man that I suppose is at 4e, he had joined us, completing the requirements of 4. I glare at my boots, nervous and confident. Guards paced by ass as they hand us each a knife, needing clarification about why they were sharp.



"Wait, these are really steel..." I look at them, confused.



"Hello again, players. Now, you may all wonder why you have real steel knives. Well, I did tell you that the name was logical."



What...?



"To win, you must stab your friends in the heart and let them off to the pit of fire."



With the intercom ratting about how we look pathetic, Micheal stabs 4e in the heart continuously as his agitating screams fill the room. Shockwaves of horror rippled through the onlookers, freezing them in a collective gasp. The vibrant hues of the scene muted tones, as if the universe itself mourned the invasion of violence.



In the aftermath, chaos unfolded--scattered belongings, and the anguished cries of empathy. The injured figure, now a tragic story, laying on the unforgiving pavement, their vulnerability laid for the world to witness.



Others around us started going on like wild animals, some having no winners in each group. The terror and insanity had reached our max in here.



Through the blood splatters and sanity gone, I analyse the blood bath around us, soaking our leather boots. It's left of the three of us.



Three left from 150 players.



As Micheal approached Jessy, he left her heart miserably painful. I watch, unable to speak of the family games they joined



She lands on her knees and so on to her face. The blood pours and pours too much that now, it sizzles. With rage and... victory?



I look at Micheal. Words unspoken.



Everyone laughs.



Laughter? Do I hear laughter? Was it from the speakers?



No.



They were the corpses.

The corpse's soul returns, and the devil awakens.



The dead citizens carried their blood in their hands and laughed, along with Jessy and Micheal.



I stand, looking around at Jessy, laughing at the trap of greed I have fallen in. Hand covering my mouth, betrayal and friendships taste bitter. The taste turns gushy and burns. With faces I entered with; I am now the in punishment.



"Wait, Micheal. No, Micheal!!"



"Come on, Fatma. You knew it was me since the car! Since the ticking clocks. You thought that that man was your hero getting out of debt?" He laughs, more so that he approaches me. The horns of his turn red, the tails of his wages around in success.



" I was the man, Fatma. I was the one who told Jack to give you a month. I was the one who spoke to the doctors to keep a month for your mother.



This has become hell on earth.



"Everyone is always connected, Fatma."


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