The Endgame: Love Beyond Death

Willa pushed her key into the lock of her apartment on Mercer Street. The metal clicked and she pushed the heavy oak door open. She had left her shift at the publishing firm three hours early because a massive power outage had shut down the city grid. She dropped her keys on the console table and set her leather bag on the floor.

A muffled thump echoed from the back hallway. Willa stopped taking off her trench coat. The apartment should have been empty. Ethan had told her he had a job interview downtown. A soft groan drifted from the master bedroom. Willa walked down the hall in her bare feet. The bedroom door stood cracked open. She pushed the wood with her fingertips. The door swung wide and hit the drywall.

Ethan was tangled in the white sheets with her younger sister. They froze in place.

"Ethan?" Willa asked.

"Willa wait," Ethan stammered. He scrambled backward against the headboard and pulled a sheet over his waist. "I can explain this."

"Explain what?" Willa asked. "Explain why my sister is in the bed I bought?"

"It is not what it looks like," Ethan said.

"You are naked," Willa said. "She is naked. You are in my bed."

"We just got carried away," her sister Chloe said. She grabbed a pillow and covered her chest. "It just happened today. We did not plan this."

"Shut up Chloe," Willa said. "You have my spare keys. You eat my food. Now you sleep with my boyfriend."

"I still love you," Ethan said. "Please just listen to me for one minute."

"Love me?" Willa laughed. "You love my bank account. You love the rent I pay."

"That is unfair," Ethan said. "You always hold your money over my head. You make me feel inadequate."

"I literally pay for the food in your stomach," Willa said. "I bought the clothes on your floor."

"See?" Ethan said. "You are doing it right now. You treat me like a charity case."

"You are insane," Willa said.

"Ethan is right," Chloe said. She lifted her chin and glared at Willa. "A man needs to feel respected. You work all night. You never have time for him. You just throw money at your problems."

"You are disrespecting me in my own house," Willa said. "I work all night to pay his rent while he sits on the couch playing video games."

"We were going to tell you," Ethan said.

"When?" Willa asked. "After I paid next month lease? After I bought your sister her birthday gift on Friday?"

"We did not want to hurt you," Chloe said.

"Get out," Willa said. "Both of you. Get your things and get out of my house."

"You cannot kick us out in the rain," Chloe said. "A massive storm just started outside."

"Watch me," Willa said.

"This is my home too," Ethan said. "My name is on the utility bills."

"I pay the bills," Willa said.

"We are not leaving right now," Ethan said. He crossed his arms over his chest. "You need to calm down. We can talk about this like adults in the morning."

A cold sickness coiled in her stomach. Willa looked at the man she had planned to marry. She looked at the sister she had protected since childhood. They had no remorse. They felt entitled to her space and her money. The injustice suffocated her. She felt like she was going to vomit right there on the hardwood floor.

"Fine," Willa said.

She backed out of the room. She turned and sprinted for the front door. She did not grab her coat or her bag. She burst out of the building lobby and hit the pavement.

Rain poured down on Mercer Street in sheets. The cold water soaked her thin blouse in seconds. Willa sprinted down the sidewalk and ignored the puddles splashing against her bare feet.

"Watch where you are going," a man holding an umbrella yelled as she bumped his shoulder.

"Sorry," Willa said.

"Crazy lady," the man muttered.

Willa kept running. She reached the intersection at Fifth Avenue and stopped at the curb.

"I pay the lease," Willa said to the empty air. "I bought the furniture. Why am I the one running away?"

"Because you are a coward," she whispered to herself.

She wiped rainwater from her eyes. She stepped off the curb without checking the traffic lane. Tires screeched against wet asphalt. Headlights flared to her left and blinded her. The metal grill of a heavy delivery truck slammed into her side.

There was no crushing impact. The loud noise of the city vanished in an instant. The rain stopped falling. Willa tumbled through an empty void. Gravity grabbed her and slammed her hard onto solid concrete.

Willa gasped for air and rolled onto her hands and knees. Dry dust coated her palms. A thick fog blanketed the ground. She stood in front of an old transit station. Rusted metal benches sat under a collapsed concrete canopy.

"Where am I?" Willa asked the empty air.

A rusted bus wiggled out of the thick fog. The vehicle stopped right in front of her with a heavy hiss of air brakes. The folding doors groaned and parted. Willa peered inside the bus but saw only shadows.

"A girl is at the station," a voice echoed from the dark interior.

"What is she doing?" another voice asked with a rough grunt.

"Being a scared newbie," the first voice laughed.

"Who is in there?" Willa asked. "Step out right now."

"She has a loud voice," the second voice said.

"Grab her," the first voice said.

An arm ripped through the darkness and grabbed her wrist. Fingers dug into her skin with iron strength. The arm yanked her forward with brutal force. Willa stumbled up the metal steps and crashed into a solid chest. She looked up and met a pair of cold eyes set in a sharp face. The bus doors slammed shut behind her and sealed them inside.

"Let go of me," Willa yelled.

"Stop fighting," the man said. His voice was deep and calm.

"Get your hands off my wrist," Willa said.

"Sit down and shut up," the man said. He released her arm and pointed to an empty seat.

"I will break your jaw," Willa said.

"You can try," the man said. "But you will just embarrass yourself."

Static shrieked from the speakers above their heads.

[Welcome to THE Survival Game]

The mechanical voice bounced off the metal walls. Willa looked down the narrow aisle. Dozens of passengers sat in the rows. None of them moved or spoke. Their skin was pale and their eyes stared blankly at the front window.

[Congratulations you are all dead. But considering the greenhouse effect, hell is in recycle mode right now. You are being sent to dead worlds as entertainment. Please provide the fanciest death you can for the audience.]