Out of nowhere, a thick fog developed, covering the landscape in an eerie, blood-red haze. It rolled in like a living entity, tendrils of crimson mist reaching out to envelop everything in sight. The dense, ruddy vapor seemed to absorb light, casting an otherworldly glow that made the already infernal terrain look even more forbidding.

“How am I supposed to find anything in this pea soup?” I grumbled, making my way across a rocky expanse, nearly tripping over the body of what I assumed was another player.

“How am I supposed to find anything in this pea soup?” I grumbled, making my way across a rocky expanse, nearly tripping over the body of what I assumed was another player. As I regained my balance, the fog cleared just enough for me to get a good look at the grisly sight before me. The body lay face-down, sprawled across the jagged rocks, and it was clear that whatever had attacked this poor soul hadn’t been interested in a fair fight.

The lower half of the corpse was relatively intact, still clad in jeans and scuffed sneakers. But from the waist up, it was a horror show. The back had been torn open, ribs jutting out at sickening angles where something had clearly been feeding. One arm was missing entirely, leaving behind a ragged stump of bone and mangled flesh. What remained of the torso was a mess of shredded muscle and congealed blood, with bits of organs visible through the carnage.

The head was turned to the side, revealing a face frozen in a rictus of terror, one eye wide and staring, the other a bloody socket. Chunks of scalp and hair were missing, as if whatever creature had done this had been sampling different parts of its victim.

“Jesus…” I said, hardly able to look at the grisly mess before me. If I hadn’t already thrown up, I might’ve done so now. “Gotta keep your shit together, Kade, or that’s gonna be you lying there next.”

Peering into the murk, I saw shapes shifting and dancing at the edge of my vision, never quite resolving into anything recognizable. The fog muffled sounds, turning distant screams and roars into muted, haunting echoes.

The metallic tang of blood filled my nostrils, making me wonder if this was just fog or something far more sinister. Droplets of moisture clung to my skin, leaving behind faint red stains that made me shudder involuntarily.

“Great,” I muttered, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “Because this place wasn’t creepy enough already. Now we’ve got the weather from a slasher flick.”

I squinted, trying to make out anything beyond a few feet in front of me. The crimson haze seemed to pulse with a life of its own, obscuring my path and leaving me feeling more lost and alone than ever in this alien shithole.

Bringing up the map, I made sure I was heading in the direction of Annalise’s green dot, which still hadn’t shifted position. I began to worry that she might be dead. But if she was, would her tracking dot still be green? Wouldn’t it be a different color, or like an X or something? For now, I chose to believe she was still alive, and that the dot remaining green was a good thing.

Carrying on across the rocky expanse, I soon got attacked by three large cockroach things, each of which was about the size of a Labrador. They burst from the ground, their chitinous bodies gleaming like oil-slick armor in the dim light. Their mandibles clicked menacingly, dripping with some viscous, foul-smelling liquid.

Giant Cockroaches - Level 3

These oversized roaches on steroids boast armor that would make a medieval knight jealous and an attitude problem to match. Giant Cockroaches are the bullies of the bug world. They’re faster than they look, meaner than they need to be, and about as welcome as a fart in a spacesuit.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I growled, already swinging my chain. “I don’t have time for this shit.”

The first roach charged, its six legs propelling it forward with alarming speed. I side-stepped, bringing the chain down hard on its back. The satisfying crunch of breaking exoskeleton filled the air, but the damn thing was tougher than it looked.

Not missing a beat, I stomped down hard with my Nike, channeling all my frustration into the blow. The cockroache’s shell gave way with a sickening pop, green ichor spraying across the rocky ground and staining my sneaker, which I wasn’t happy about. “Bastard!”

The other two cockroaches, apparently not deterred by their comrade’s demise, came at me simultaneously. I swung the chain in a wide arc, catching one across what passed for its face. It reeled back, momentarily stunned.

The third, however, managed to latch onto my leg, its mandibles seeking purchase through my jeans. “Oh no, you don’t,” I snarled, bringing my free boot down on its head repeatedly. “I am not becoming bug food today!”

After what felt like an eternity but was probably only seconds, the cockroach’s grip loosened. I took the opportunity to stomp its head into the ground, grinding my heel for good measure. By the time I was done, my sneaker looked like it had been dipped in the green goo.

The stunned cockroach was starting to recover, but I was in no mood for round two. With a yell that was equal parts rage and exertion, I brought the chain down on it again and again, until it stopped twitching.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Panting, I surveyed the carnage. “Alright,” I muttered, “let’s see what you ugly bastards have for me.”

I quickly rifled through the dissipating corpses. The pickings were slim: a small vial of what looked like acid (probably from their mandibles), a handful of iridescent scales that might be useful for crafting, and what appeared to be a partially digested gem.

“Fantastic,” I grumbled, pocketing the meager loot. “Risked life and limb for the equivalent of pocket change and a rock.”

As an afterthought, I hacked off one of the less-damaged mandibles with my knitting needle. It was wickedly sharp and about the size of a machete. Could come in handy for crafting later, or at least as a backup weapon.

After using a broad leaf from a weird weed to wipe the roach guts off my sneakers, I checked my map again. Annalise’s marker hadn’t moved. Whether that was good or bad, I couldn’t say, but it spurred me to pick up the pace.

“Hang on, Annalise,” I said to the empty air. “I’m coming. Just try not to die before I get there.”

I set off again, and as I did, an announcement sounded in my head.

“Attention, contestants! Your friendly neighborhood AI here, broadcasting from the heart of this cosmic comedy. Time to put on your running shoes and adjust your halos, because the first Trial location has just been uploaded to your maps.

“You’ve got exactly six hours to reach the designated spot. That’s 21,600 seconds for those of you who like to count down to your potential demise. Trust me, I’ve watched this clock tick down more times than I care to remember.

“Failure to arrive at the assigned coordinates by the deadline will result in immediate termination of your player status. And no, that doesn’t mean you get to go home. It’s more of a “cease to exist” kind of deal. Poof! Gone! Like that sandwich I once left in my locker for a summer... not that AIs have lockers, of course.

“So get moving, you unlucky souls. Run, stumble, or crawl your way there. And remember, in the grand theatre of the Trials, punctuality is next to godliness. Or at least, it’s slightly better than oblivion.

“Now go forth and try not to die in any embarrassing ways. We’re always watching, after all. It’s not like we have a choice in the matter.

“End transmission. May your feet be swift and your survival instincts swifter.”

“What?” Aside from the strangeness of that message, I now felt panicked at the thought of missing the first Trial. Checking the map, I saw a new icon had appeared. It was a pair of theater masks, one smiling and one frowning, intertwined in a way that made them look almost alive.

“Jesus,” I breathed, staring at the icon on my screen, apprehension exacerbated by the clock counting down in the corner of my map.

5:58:46

The Trial location seemed pretty far away, though the map refused to say exactly how far, just to increase my panic even more. Then I remembered that the whole point of this “game” was so the Overseers could feed off the suffering of the players, according to Grik anyway. This little stunt would no doubt give the Overseers a nice little chunk of sustenance from all the players here. Sons of bitches, who the hell did they think they were, fucking with people’s lives and sanity like this?

“Our fucking creators, that’s who,” I said bitterly. “Fuckers own us… or think they do. No one fucking owns me.”

My eyes flitted between the Trial icon and the green dot representing Annalise. If I continued to go after Annalise, there was a real chance I wouldn’t make it to the Trial location in time, and then I’d be screwed… forever.

But Annalise’s dot still wasn’t moving, even after that announcement. On the edges of my map, I saw other dots already moving—other players doing as they were told, making their way to their potential doom. But not Annalise.

Fuck it, I thought, after clearing away the screen. If the last act I did was to save another soul, then so be it.

Of course, even if I found Annalise and managed to save her from whatever trouble she was in, it was highly likely neither of us would make it to the Trial on time. In which case, at least we would die together. Hell, it was only a matter of time before I snuffed it in this arena anyway. I’d rather die with someone like Annalise than at the claws of some monster.

“Hang in there, Annalise, wherever you are. I’m coming.”

I started running in the direction of the dot, wishing my Nikes had recharged, but it was too soon yet. Good old fashioned human determination would have to carry me forward for now.

As I ran across the changing landscape, the terrain shifted from ashen wasteland to rocky outcroppings, then to a field of what looked like petrified trees. The blood-red fog swirled around me, occasionally parting to reveal glimpses of the twisted world I was traversing.

Every few minutes, I’d check the map, relieved to see the distance between me and Annalise’s location slowly shrinking. After what felt like hours of running, dodging the occasional nightmarish creature, and cursing the very existence of this cosmic game show, I came to an abrupt halt. The fog ahead had begun to clear, revealing something so incongruous with the surrounding landscape that I wondered if I’d finally lost my mind.

Looming before me was a fairground.

But this was no cheerful carnival from my memories of Earth. Dilapidated rides creaked and groaned in a non-existent wind, their once-bright colors now faded to sickly hues. A Ferris wheel stood silhouetted against the crimson sky, its carriages swaying gently, chains rattling like restless ghosts.

The entrance was marked by a rusted arch, its neon letters flickering weakly to spell out “WELCOME TO LIMBO’S LABYRINTH OF LAUGHS.” Below, in smaller, steadier letters: “Where Every Ride Might Be Your Last!”

Tattered banners fluttered from broken poles, and the remnants of balloons drifted by like lost souls. A carousel spun slowly, its painted horses bearing expressions of terror rather than joy, their eyes seeming to follow me as I stood frozen at the entrance.

In the distance, I could hear the faint, distorted notes of a calliope, playing a melody that sounded like a funeral march trying to masquerade as a jaunty tune.

“What the actual fuck?” I muttered, my voice sounding small and lost in the eerie atmosphere. This place had no right to exist here, in this realm of fire and brimstone. And yet, here it was, a twisted parody of earthly amusements.

I checked my map again. Sure enough, Annalise’s green dot pulsed right in the center of this nightmarish carnival. How the hell did she end up in this place? Or more to the point, who took her here?

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever horrors awaited inside. “Alright, Kade,” I said to myself, “let’s go be the hero that no one asked for… because that worked out so well last time.”