“Fuck, why did it have to me this time...” Charles cursed.

                  It was that time again—when the government randomly selected ten contestants to participate in a ruthless game for their entertainment. Each participant had a price tag of $100,000,000 on his or her head. Usually they lasted a few days to months before being discovered and captured by civilians. The end result was not pretty. However, the government did promise that if the participants survived the 7-year time period, they would be rewarded for their efforts and everything they wanted granted to them. It was enough incentive to convince them to try, but after a few days on the run, they realized it was a futile effort and gave in.

A few hours ago, he was shopping at the mall, when the names and pictures of ten people—including his—flashed on every cell phone and television screen in the surrounding area followed by a line of text.

                  “Alert! These ten citizens are now participants in The Survival Game. Capture them and receive a cash prize. Nothing is illegal as long as the capture of these contestants is ensured.”

                  As he read the message, his jaw dropped and his arms hung limply at his side. He looked up, glanced quickly from side to side, and noticed that everybody around him had their phones out and pointed at him. Through his hardened childhood, he knew the best way to survive was to keep a low profile and disappear as fast as he can so he began walking to the nearest exit.

                  “Hey you, stop!” he heard a stranger cry out.

                  Charles picked up the pace and sprinted to the exit, not caring if he ran anyone over in the process. Upon making it out, he breathed a sigh of relief, reached into his bag, and put on the hat he had bought. He walked to the shadows, watched streams of shoppers run out of the mall, and waited for an opportunity to sneak away.

                  That opportunity came when a car pulled away from the parking lot—believing the driver was Charles, a majority of the crowd ran to their cars and followed it. The rest scouted around the mall in hopes of finding a clue to where Charles could’ve gone.

Bzzzz!

Charles tensed up and made to run before he realized his phone had been buzzing nonstop. His friends and distant family members had been calling and texting nonstop, pretending to be concerned. He knew they were after the money; they weren’t concerned about his well-being one bit.

Charles turned his phone off, took out the SIM card, and threw it away. He couldn’t risk being found. He still had too many things he wanted to do. He couldn’t die here for a miserable game the fucking government made up.

“There he is! Get him!” a voice cried out.

Charles came to his senses and flung his phone towards his pursuers, hoping their greed would allow him to buy some time, and he sprinted towards the nearby alley.

“We got him cornered! He has nowhere to go, boys! That alley is a dead end,” the same voice shouted out. “Whoever has a gun, now’s the time to bring them out. Shoot to kill! Remember we split the cash reward!”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Charles smiled; they didn’t know the streets and alleys as well as he did. He had grown up on these streets: searching for food, running from his abusive father, and even exploring when he got bored. It was by no coincidence that he headed straight for the secret room underneath the dumpster. It was his sanctuary, his hideout, the place he went to be alone. He found it accidentally when he was twelve and running away from police, who were after him because he stole from a store. He ran into the same exact alley and dove under the dumpster, hoping the police didn’t’ find him. He must’ve done something right in his past life because when he dove under, his hand touched a brick in the wall and triggered a switch. He had found himself in a secret room.

Charles headed straight for his hiding spot and rolled into it. He thanked the gods that he retrofitted the room with the latest technologies as well as stocked up on food and water. He was going to survive this madness, no matter what shitty odds he faced.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The sound of gunshots echoed through alley.

“Do you think we got him?” Charles heard someone ask.

“Don’t know, but the alley is a dead end. I’m going to throw a grenade in to be sure we got him.” someone replied. “Hahaha! Charles—if you are alive—I have no quarrel with you. I just want my family to live a life of luxury.”

Clink! Clink! Boom!

The grenade went off.

“YEEEAAAAAH! He couldn’t have survived that blast. Let’s go in and collect our earnings now!”

“YEEEAAAAH!” the mob shouted.

Charles heard his pursuers cautiously walked into the alley and began to search for his remains. He laughed when he heard some cursing when they didn’t discover his dead body.

“Serves the greedy bastards right!” Charles said to himself. “Even if they find my hiding spot, I still have an escape route.”

Charles sat on his couch, gun on his lap, and faced the entrance to his hideout from the alley and cautiously drifted to sleep.

He was rudely jolted awake by the sounds of hammering against the brick wall of his hideout. Cautiously, he made his way towards the other end of the room—ready to escape if needed.

It was one of the tensest times he ever encountered in his life.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The knocks were getting closer and closer to the secret entrance to his hideout. A drop of sweat slid down from his forehead and to the tip of his nose. Charles fought the urge to scratch, as it seemed that any movement by him would tip off his pursuers that he was hiding on the other side of the wall.

Suddenly a voice said, “James, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Seeing if there’s a hidden room on the other side of this wall. Maybe that’s how the dude escaped under our nose.”

“Idiot, it’s impossible. If there was a secret room on the other side of the wall, don’t you think the hobos would have found it by now?”

“But…”

“That dude could’ve climbed up that ladder on the side of the building and escaped from there.”

“Let’s search that building then.”

Charles breathed a sigh of relief as he heard his pursuers leave. He quickly moved to his computer and brought up security cameras to make sure the alley was clear.

“Damn, those idiots really did a number on the alley,” Charles said. “Good thing they left. Now I can probably sleep in peace.”

It was nighttime when Charles awoke once more. Wanting fresh air, he decided to leave the hideout for a quick walk. He checked his security cameras and made sure nobody was around lying in wait and walked outside. He pulled his hat down to cover a majority of his face and headed back to his apartment for some personal items.

Upon reaching the block his apartment was at, Charles stopped in his tracks. He noticed a mob outside the apartment building, lying in wait for his return. Charles coolly pulled up his collar, dipped his head down, and slinked away into the shadows.

Ring! Ring!

The sound of a payphone right next to him startled Charles. He looked up and down the street and observed that nobody was paying attention to him. He had a feeling that this phone call was for him.

He walked into the phone booth and picked up the phone.

“Hello?” He asked.

“Congratulations surviving the first day, Charles. You and seven other participants managed to survive day one,” a mechanical voice stated.

“What do you want from me?” Charles asked.

“I wanted to keep you updated on your progress and wish you luck.”

“I don’t need this. I want out of this game.”

“Sorry, we can’t allow this. Your being here makes the game so much more interesting for us.”

“Fucking sadistic bastard.”

“Good luck! We will be in contact soon.”

Click!