I bet most of the players who saw the announcement felt their blood pumping, enough to make them jump straight into the madness—killing, looting, chasing that first big score.
They’re not thinking about survival anymore. Not really. They’re thinking about the payout, the riches the game promised. All we have to do is stay alive, climb to the top, and freedom is ours. But then—just like that—they’re deciding our freedom for us? We didn’t even realize we signed up to be guinea pigs. And now we’re trapped in this twisted world where the only rule is to fight or die.
Still, part of me isn’t complaining. I don’t have anyone waiting for me back on Earth—except Mike. No family to miss. And honestly, gaming has always been my thing. Way better than grinding two jobs just to scrape by. Not that I had a choice. Rent kept climbing, groceries cost a fortune, and every paycheck felt smaller than the last. Then I got fired.
I don’t even know how I was supposed to bounce back from that. Couldn’t afford a meal, let alone the bills. My biggest regret? Wasting money on games instead of saving it. Yeah, I fucked up. Mike was the only one who stuck by me after that. Shared his food, treated me like family when I didn’t have one.
Thinking about all that now, I’m not sure I even had the will to survive before this. But there’s this little voice in my head, whispering, You love games, don’t you? This is just another game—and this time, you can make real money. It’s like my brain and body are both on autopilot, agreeing to keep me alive.
“This is chaos,” Naomi muttered, staring out the window. Her face was tense, her eyes darting like she was trying to predict the storm before it hit. She looked worried, but I didn’t say anything about it.
She’s right. It is chaos. The announcement lit a fire under everyone, made them greedy as hell. Greedy to survive, to get rich, to avoid being the next one killed. Greed’s got plenty of reasons to take over, but fighting it? That takes control. And that’s not something you learn overnight.
I wasn’t so much worried about the chaos that was about to hit. What really had me curious was what we’d have to do to survive it. “Got any plans?” I asked, genuinely wanting to know.
She turned and looked at me, her expression unreadable. “Plans?” She smirked. “I’m not really into planning. I just go with the flow. If I survive, I survive.” She turned her gaze back to the window, like she was already lost in thought. “What about you? Got any plans?”
She wasn’t into planning, and I was. I liked to think ahead before jumping into anything. Not having a plan felt like a death wish. But my plan? It was basic. Obvious, really, for a world like this. Prioritize looting, focus on the essentials that’ll be hard to find later, conserve ammo, optimize resources, and stay adaptable.
“I’ve got a few,” I said, watching her stare outside, her back to me. “But they’re just the basics. Looting, finding a base. When the game starts, we’ve gotta focus on earning points.” I wasn’t trying to sound greedy, but that’s how it was. We had to prioritize getting points, but not at the cost of pushing ourselves too hard. We had to work smarter, not just harder.
She turned and headed toward the bathroom. I couldn’t read her, couldn’t tell what she was thinking or what she was about to say. “You don’t look like someone who thinks too much,” she said. That threw me off. Did my black hair, red eyes, and whole vibe really make me seem like I wasn’t thinking? Like who wouldn’t think in a world like this? It’d force anyone to.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“I’m just—” I started, but she cut me off before I could finish.
She stood in front of the bathroom door, hand on the knob. “My turn to shower,” she said, pointing inside.
[GAME STARTING IN 50 MINUTES]
I stared out the window. If the game was starting in 50 minutes, it’d be full night by then. Glancing at the game screen, I noticed a time display.
6:00 PM.
The game would start at exactly 6:50 PM.
Next to it was a logo of the map—basically, the game’s layout.
----------------------------------------
Cities:
• Oakfield (Current Location)
• Lakeside Haven
• New Haven City
• Greenway City
• Pinecrest City
Forests:
• Maple Ridge Wilderness
• Redleaf Forest
• Wolfsbane Woods
Beaches:
• Coral Bay
• Crystal Shore
Mountains:
• The Decaying Highlands
• Latchbo Pinnacle
Islands:
• La Péninsule Perdue
• The Light Archipelago
• The Deep Isles
• Munwaki Haven
Deserts:
• Solara Flats
• Sunset Mesa
----------------------------------------
This map felt way bigger than the one I saw during the selection process. The locations were more specific, more intense. It added a lot more pressure. We were in Oakfield city, a ruined city, or at least that’s what the sign said. At first, I thought it was abandoned, that no one was around. But what we saw earlier proved there were players here already, looting the place.
Shhhhhhhh.
Even outside, I could hear the faint sound of water dripping from the shower. It wasn’t loud enough to be heard from outside, though, so we were safe for now. Keeping things quiet, lowkey, was one of my main goals. We had to avoid drawing attention before the game even started. If we made too much noise, we’d attract other players, especially groups. Facing a group with just the two of us? That’d be suicide.
But just as I started to relax on the couch, I heard footsteps. Not Naomi’s—these were coming from outside. I quickly peeked out the window and saw a shadow moving. A player?
Tap-tap.
Shhhhhh.
Tap-tap.
The sound of the shower and the footsteps mixed together, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the shadow outside. It was getting closer, moving toward the door. I grabbed my pistol, silently slipping into a hidden spot where I could aim without being seen.
Chk-chk.
I cracked the window open just enough to see, and what I thought was a player turned out to be just a walker—a zombie, stumbling along. Did it smell us? No way. Zombies in this game rely more on sight and sound than smell, so it hadn’t detected us. And thank god for that, because dealing with a higher-level zombie would’ve been a nightmare.
“Great,” I whispered, unloading my pistol.
I was relieved. No need to waste ammo or make a noise that would draw more zombies in.
But then—BANG!
A gunshot rang out, the sound of blood and brains splattering across the ground. I saw it through the shadow outside. Someone had shot the walker. Someone with a gun.
Creak.
The bathroom door opened. Naomi stepped out, wearing a white tank top and grabbing her jacket off the table, she probably heard the sound.
“Was that a gunshot?” she asked, clearly not hearing it too well from inside.
I nodded and motioned for her to stay quiet. “Lay down,” I said, grabbing my gun again. The walker was already down, its body out of sight, probably lying in the ground. But then, a shadow approached. This guy had something like a stick on his back and a gun in his hand, raised like he was proud of it.
“Just a walker?” he said, his voice dripping with disappointment. “What a waste of a bullet.”
His voice was deep, raspy. Naomi, though, had already moved, sliding across the floor to grab her revolver from the couch. Her expression was focused—she was ready to shoot.
The silence continues, but the guy was still standing out front. Then he muttered, “This will do,” and started walking toward the door, opening it slowly.
Creak.
He stepped inside, and we quickly ducked into the kitchen, staying low. I could see him now—medium-length red hair, piercings in his lips, a katana slung across his back, and a pistol in his hand.
He scanned the room, his eyes darting around, making my heart race. He was getting closer, and it felt like he was onto us. Then, out of nowhere, he shouted, “OH GOD, I’M GONNA BLOW MY ASS UP!” He ran toward the bathroom like a maniac, arms flailing like he was about to explode.
I was shocked. I thought he’d found us, but it turns out he was just taking a shit.
Plop!
I stood up. “He’s definitely shitting right now,” I said, glancing at Naomi, who was also standing.
He was lucky to find a working bathroom this time tho, but shitting on the street is also an option tho in this post apocalyptic world, i guess he just preferred a nice comfortable feeling, naomi and I positioned ourselves beside each other, im on the other side and she is on the other side as we aimed the gun towards the bathroom.
It will be a checkmate.