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Elara pressed both of her palms on the hard surface of the ground and she cried aloud, her cries echoing off at a distance. The pains she had felt a while ago came rushing back and she brought one of her hands up to her chest, squeezing at it. The scene kept replaying in her head and she repulsed at the thought of it. How can she be working all day with little rest while chunking on cheap foods just to make sure everyone was fine and the only way they could repay her was to rub on each other in her absence? Her own boyfriend and her sister?! That was one hell of a betrayal, the definition of being stabbed right at the back.

She soon started to feel nauseous and she gulped before throwing up on the floor. She wiped her lips with the hand of her cloth and wondered why the angels had not yet spoken a word or come to take her. Didn’t she die a while ago and is now in the afterlife?

She raised her head for the first time and looked around the place. She slowly blinked and stood to her feet. She felt the whole world spin around her and the first question that popped up on her mind was;

“Where am I?”

The whole place felt wrong. The city looks completely abandoned. Cars sat empty with some doors ajar where some had weeds growing through their broken windows. There were litters everywhere which the wind dispersed around.

Was she in the middle of a ghost town?

Just a while ago, she remembered getting hit by a moving vehicle, then the sound of her bones crushing, then her head smashing on the ground. She had definitely died. But come to think of it, she hasn’t felt a bit of pain since she opened her eyes. Just the pain of being betrayed. Also, why was it morning now when it was obviously night a while ago?

Wait…what is really going on?

Elara has so many questions running through her mind. The thought of being alone in this abandoned city made her even more terrified. This was definitely not the afterlife. There are no angels here. It’s just her.

Then, the story about the afterlife…was it a lie?

She soon heard a low grinding sound and she turned to see a bus that was bent to one side, approaching. At least, she was not alone. There could be people in the bus. But what kind of people? She wondered.

With a hiss, the bus stopped directly in front of her and the doors creaked open to darkness. It waited, as if patiently and at the same time, hungry for its next victim.

Elara knew better. She couldn’t enter such a bus just because it was the only thing she could cling onto in a place like this. The first strange thing that appears could be her doom, and yet, the open doors were like a silent invitation to a darkness that smelled of stale oil and something metallic. Her instincts screamed at her to run. This was the typical opening scene of one of the horror stories she’d written. The one who gets on the creepy bus always dies first.

Then, she heard a voice. No, not one, but about two to three. She moved her feet closer to the bus and listened closely. She heard a rough and impatient voice ask;

“Why are we stopping?”

“Picking up a dead,” another voice answered with a bored amusement.

“Then what is the holdup?” the first voice grunted angrily.

“Looks like she’s having a scared-newbie moment.”

Elara stepped back immediately. This couldn’t be real. Those voices could be a distraction, a trap, anything to make her fall for a trick. What if those voices were the voices of the dead people that got on the bus to fulfil their curiosity? No! she definitely won’t enter such a—

An arm shot out from the darkness inside the bus and grabbed her. It was fast and she had no time to scream or resist. She was pulled into the darkness and she stumbled, falling against a hard cold seat.

The doors hissed shut and the bus lurched forward with a pained, wiggling motion.

Elara blinked immediately and her eyes adjusted. She looked at the people inside the bus, the other passengers. They weren’t…dead. They all now looked at her, some with irritation. The bus was lit up, not dark. It was only dark when you look at it from outside, but once you are inside, you can see everything. Had they been watching her then? How embarrassing! By the way, who pulled her in without her consent?

Her eyes moved a row ahead and she saw him, half-turned as if to observe the whole passengers. He was…well, beautiful. He looked too real to be a person. Sharp jawline, high cheekbones, dark hairs and stormy grey eyes. He was the kind of ‘perfect man’ she would have written in her stories. He fits every description.

He watched her with an intense focus and before she could catch her breath, a static voice crackled from a speaker, making everyone but the ‘perfect man’ flinch.

[Welcome to the Survival Game!]

Elara’s blood ran cold immediately. Survival…Game…what does it mean?

[Congratulations! You are all officially deceased. However, due to the ongoing greenhouse effect and systemic entropy, hell is currently over capacity and undergoing renovations. Until further notice, all damned souls will be processed through this temporary purgatorial system. Your new purpose is to provide premium entertainment for our subscribers! Your objective is to provide the fanciest death you can for the audience!]

Elara swallowed and it tasted like panic. She could hear someone let out a choked sob from behind.

“What audience?” she murmured. She looked behind her to see the faces masked with terror. Guess she wasn’t the only one terrified. Well, except for the ‘perfect man’ that was at the front. His eyes held no fear or confusion. Just a deep, unnerving calmness.

“What if I don’t want to be an entertainment?” she asked, directing her question to him as if he was the one behind the whole thing. He sure looks like he knows more than them.

For a moment, she could only hear the grinding of the bus engine, but then, he spoke in a low voice devoid of any emotion.

“Then,” he said, his stormy eyes locking with hers, “you die.”

Fear washed over Elara's face, but the perfect man offered a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Not by my hands," he clarified. "The dead worlds...they will consume you soon enough."

The bus soon began to slow down. Elara turned to the front window, but all she could see is the white fog.

She doesn't want to believe any of this but, what can she do than believe?

The speaker crackled back to life.

[Next Station: The Grand Hotel of Grandiose Demises. Good luck, and give them a show!]

The perfect man held her gaze as the fog swallowed the bus whole. “Welcome to the end of the world,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.