All Chapters of All Of Us Are Dead: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

“Seriously,” I snarled, my voice sharper this time. “How the hell do you know my name?” He blinked slowly. Then smiled wider, his teeth showing. “Lucky guess?” I didn’t buy it for a second. My palms were starting to sweat. My mind went into overdrive, replaying every moment since we’d met — the bus, the game, the safe room. Had I said my name out loud? Had someone else called me that? I couldn’t remember. No. I knew I hadn’t. I hadn’t told anyone my name. Not once. So how did he— “Relax,” he said softly, holding his hands up like I was the one overreacting. “It’s not a big deal.” “Not a big deal?” I spat. “You just called me by my name — the name I Never Told You. How is that not a big deal?” He didn’t respond right away. Just looked at me with this weird, knowing expression. Like he was enjoying watching me squirm. Then, after what felt like forever, he said quietly, “You talk in your sleep.” I blinked. “What?” He leaned back, resting one arm on the bedframe. “Yeah. Mumb

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ The sound of boots against the floor was the only thing echoing in that silence. The Game Master didn’t give us time to process what had just happened. It just turned, gestured with one elegant, polished hand toward the massive metal doors, and started walking. The guards followed, their rifles raised in perfect rhythm, and like sheep to a slaughterhouse, we followed. I didn’t even realize how tightly I was holding my breath until my lungs burned. The person walking behind me kept brushing against my shoulder, and every time, I flinched. I glanced sideways and saw Hoodie Guy a few paces behind me, hands shoved into his pockets, looking way too calm for someone trapped in a death maze. He caught my gaze and smiled. We turned a corner, and then another, the corridor stretching long and wide with gray steel walls lined with blinking red lights that pulsed like heartbeats. The floor vibrated faintly under my boots, as if something massive was moving deep under us. I cou

We walked for what felt like forever. Then, finally, a corridor opened.And what we saw next made my brain short-circuit.The new room was… bright.Like, actually bright.Not sterile-bright like the halls, but blinding in color. The floor was painted in huge, messy splashes of red, yellow, and blue like a giant had dumped buckets of paint and decided to call it art. Neon lights lined the ceiling, blinking between rainbow hues.And in the middle of it all was a massive playground.I’m not joking. A playground.Swings, slides, monkey bars, even a roundabout in the corner, all rusted and oversized. And right in front of us, drawn perfectly on the glossy floor in thick white lines, was a hopscotch grid.The sight hit me like a slap.“Welcome, contestants!” The Game Master’s voice boomed cheerfully. “To your next challenge: Hopscotch!”It spun once, its cloak flaring, like it was presenting something magnificent.“Rules are simple,” it continued, “as always. Each of you will take turns ju

“Hello, beloved players!” The Game Master stepped forward, gliding through the center of the hall as the heavy doors sealed shut behind it. The lights blinked on cue, almost like they were bowing to its presence. Its steps echoed softly against the floor. Its grin—if you could even call that curved distortion of a mouth a grin—spread wide as it scanned the room. “Oh,” it said suddenly, tilting its head when the only response it got was quiet weeping. “That’s sad.” “You bunch don’t look happy to see me,” it went on, hands on its chest in mock offense. “But don’t you worry. I’m happy for both of us.” The laughter that followed wasn’t loud—it was soft, like a whisper brushing down your spine—but it still made the weeping get even louder somewhere near the back of the hall. I didn’t even know who was crying anymore. It could’ve been me. The Game Master tilted its head again, pretending to think. “But if this would offer any consolation,” it said smoothly, “I’m not here to announce a

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 It was kind of poetic, in a depressing way — watching people form teams in a place like this. Like watching ants gather after their hill’s been kicked down. Everyone scurrying, clinging to whoever’s closest, hoping being together means surviving a little longer. It was pathetic, but also… human. The need to belong, to have someone beside you when the walls start closing in. That was what everyone was doing now. The dorm that had been half-dead silent a couple of hours ago was suddenly humming with voices, laughter, and nervous energy. People were pairing up, some in groups of three, others in bigger cliques that felt too loud and desperate. It reminded me of high school. The first day. Everyone pretending to be confident while secretly panicking about where they fit in. Except this time, instead of worrying about cafeteria seating, they were worrying about not getting shot, burned, crushed, or whatever other creative death this place had planned next.