Rules of the City

The train began to slow as they approached their destination.

Farrah felt the subtle shift beneath her feet as the sound of the moving train started softening into silence.

Soon, the lights on the train flashed a couple of times as if the surrounding space warped… It was a strange sensation, but Farrah couldn’t care less.

Outside the fogged windows, everyone was almost blinded by what they saw.

It was a city bathed in neon lights and steam coming off various buildings…

There were towers made of brass that were also filled with glowing signs, gears turning on rooftops, and alleyways with bright crimson light as the train entered the city…

It looked like something out of a fever dream. It was beautiful, seductive, and it felt as if something was wrong.

Farrah leaned closer to the window as she couldn’t believe it.

It was like a Steampunk City that could only be seen in the movies or read in the books.

Then, with a soft hiss, the train doors slid open.

A gust of warm, perfumed air swept inside…

It was sweet and metallic, like roses and rust mixed together…

As the passengers hesitated, a translucent screen shimmered into existence just outside the door. Letters scrolled across it in glowing script…

[ Welcome to the Trial of Lust. ]

[ You have arrived at the Crimson City. ]

Farrah’s breath caught.

Crimson City… So that was its name.

[ Rules of Survival:

- You may explore freely.

- You may seek shelter, food, or comfort.

- You may speak your truth.

- But beware: the city listens.

- Lies will weaken you.

- Indulgence will consume you.

- Temptation is not kindness. It is a trap.

[ You have 30 days.

At the end of the cycle, the Avarra Line will return.

Only those who remain whole may board.

Those who falter shall remain. Forever. ]

The screen flickered, then shifted to a new message:

[ Survival Credit Issued ]

[ Each participant has been granted 1,000 Credits.

[ Use them wisely.

The city offers comfort, but not mercy. ]

Farrah blinked as a soft glow pulsed from the emblem on her wrist.

The seven-petalled symbol on everyone’s list did something…

In a few moments, a thin, metallic card rose into view. It started hovering midair for a moment before gently dropping into their hands…

Farrah caught hers instinctively.

It was warm to the touch… Soon, he realized that her information was engraved on it…

[ Name: Farrah Vale

Citizen ID: 7A-1932

District Access: Tier 3

Credit Balance: 10,000 ]

Beneath the seemed to be the Crimson City’s emblem.

Farrah turned the card over. The back was blank, except for a single line etched in faint copper:

Glory to the Crimson City. Live well. Spend wisely.

Around her, the others examined their cards in silence. The boy in the hoodie clutched his like a lifeline. The woman with the rosary refused to touch hers, staring at it as if it were poison.

Shane flipped his card once, then tucked it into his coat pocket.

However, Farrah stared at hers a moment longer.

‘10,000 credits. Is this enough to live for a month? No… This trial will test us on our Lust. It’s probably more than enough to indulge for a month. Enough to fall.’ Farrah mused as she already understood the essence of this trial.

She then planned to keep the card in her bag and paused…

‘Right… I still have a bag?’

Farrah blinked down at the bag in her lap, and her fingers brushed the worn leather strap…

She hadn’t even noticed it until now. The familiar weight slung over her shoulder, the way the leather creaked just like it always had... It actually got transported with her to this ‘afterlife’ or cursed world!

Confused, she opened it, half-expecting to find her phone, her toilet kit, maybe her notes… but there was nothing.

Just the empty lining. No wallet. No keys. No pens. No charger. Not even lint.

Just the bag itself.

Shane must’ve noticed her expression, because he leaned in slightly and said, “It’s normal. Everyone gets one thing. Something important. Something personal.”

Farrah looked up. “What do you mean?”

“Before we’re brought here… we don’t come empty-handed. The Game… it lets you keep the thing that mattered most to you. Or maybe the thing you were holding when you died. I’m not sure.”

He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, worn Swiss knife, flipping it open with practiced ease. “This was mine. My dad gave it to me when I was thirteen. I had it in my pocket when I… when it happened.”

Farrah’s eyes turned to the woman with the rosary. She was still clutching it tightly, whispering prayers under her breath.

“That’s probably hers,” Shane added. “Whatever she was holding onto when she crossed over.”

Farrah looked back at her bag. It was old, scuffed at the corners, but still intact. Her parents had given it to her when she got into med school. She used to carry it everywhere… lectures, clinics, late-night study sessions.

“I guess this is mine…” she murmured. “Figures.”

She zipped it shut and stood up…

The others were already rising as they knew that they couldn’t stay here in the train car, or they might get killed.

The boy in the hoodie was the first to step off the train, and everyone watched him…

Step…

As soon as he got out, he immediately made a gurgling sound and held his neck as if he was being choked!

“Ughkk!”