All Chapters of Survive Me, Darling: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The air smelled of damp earth and smoke as I hurried out of the communal washroom—shivering. It was a large shed with multiple rustic shower heads nailed to the wall, located in the fenced-off zone closer to the edge of the wilderness. The water here ran for a set time, the liquid was ice, biting and enough to numb a person's bones. When I walked back into the tent zone everyone had already gathered like some announcement had gone off without me. The ground felt rough and grainy beneath my feet as I hadn't gotten any footwear yet. I blindly ran into an empty can lying idly on the ground. The metal clanked and heads turned towards my direction, lingering for far too long until I became self-aware of the black shirt on me, rolled at the sleeves, still damp at the hem from the bath, and the slim pants strapped on my legs. I moved stealthily despite their following gaze, my eyes scouring for Kim amidst the herd until I saw her—leaning slightly into Rick, hoodie strapped on with

“Group formation completed.” The girl now behind us slumped to the ground, relief white on her face. “Now players, there’s only thirty seconds to choose your dig leader and make your draw.” We all exchanged glances amongst ourselves. Kim had her exact twenty points intact, Lucan the same, and the girl had just ten. Only I was down to five. “Ophelia can’t do it,” Kim discouraged. Lucan stepped in as he jammed the shovel into the ground. “She doesn’t have to. I’ll take the fall.” “Will you?” I raised a brow at him. I think he was doing this to mock me and my incompetence—especially from that sharp, amusing glint dancing in his eyes while he trained his gaze on me. “Will you, then?” He straightened his poise, one hand propping on his waist as his forehead furrowed like he was tired of me already. “Trust me, Ophelia…” My heart did that stupid flip again as he drawled my name. I scowled even deeper. “There’s no true love’s kiss that will save you once you turn.” He kisse

The system never said there were weapons. I lifted the hairpin to my face, my mind a sea of wonder at how such an ancient artifact could be a weapon. Were we being messed with? And why the hell did we need weapons—except there were things the system wanted us to discover ourselves. Lucan took the pin from me and that drew me out of my reverie. I just stood there, rooted and unmoving, as he took his stand behind me and grabbed my messy hair in his hands. “W…what are you doing?” I stuttered, my heart thumping fast. “Relax.” He mumbled, his hands working on the hair I never let random people touch as he rolled it into a messy bun and hooked it in place with the pin. “You got the best one here. Safeguard it.” He said and took hold of the shovel again. I watched him. Stunned. Speechless. My hands moved to my hair to feel the pin tucked there. He strategically struck all four diagonal parts of the ground and soon he was hitting another metal. “We found something.” He applied

We ran. As fast as our legs could go, and with each move my breath knocked out of my lungs. Lucan was pulling me along. My head was a pool of dizziness as I could barely keep up with his pace, but I tried. Those parasites were relentlessly beelining their way to us. I thought they were slow, dumb things from the onset, but this just proved me wrong. Their low growls, bloodied fangs, and jaws ready to grind. Bile pulled with a sharp reflux to my throat. Just then, the arena terrain way out of the woods came into view. It was a separate land from where the woods stood, and there was a slight demarcation that demanded we jump. “Lucan?” I called, sudden apprehension overwhelming me. He sensed it. He knew. “Just jump,” he replied. “I don’t think I can…” “Follow my lead.” Kim, who was way ahead, jumped without hesitation, her frame leaping into the air. It amazed me. But then a liquid splashed into the air along with her, and in her attempt to dodge it, she twisted in

I ran a hand through my hair—tired, exhausted already. We all got to the bus station on Harcourt Street as the voice had ordered. The road was deserted, the street sign already crashed like a thick log of wood in our path as we all walked over it to the crooked bus, with its door already wide open like a welcome. Inside, the leather seats were damp and soaked with morning dew, torn at the sides, and the atmosphere swirled with fog. I’d never seen fogs as much as I’d seen in this world, each one always had an unpleasant smell, and at this point, it was safe to call it a fog city. We were about twenty standing in the bus—clueless. “Take your seat, players.” The voice announced. As everyone moved about, I found a lone seat in the middle, walked close to it, and slowly perched down on it. The damp wetness soaked into my pants with a sharp coolness, I couldn’t help but shiver. And then there was darkness. One so thick— I couldn’t see a soul on the bus, except for murmurs