100 Lives Game Mga Nobela at Kwento

I don't play games. He shrugged. "GAMES, after all, are half the fun, aren't they? But if you must have it your way, I suppose I could extend them for a while yet. .. to spice things up, to provide an incentive, to keep everyone entertained." I narrowed my eyes. "Get to the point. Call the damn price." He grinned, refusing. "Nope. Not yet. A little while longer. They’re safe, don't worry… for now." I raised my hand, holding it near my gun. The crowd was shifting all around us. Venus’s soldiers, Marco’s soldiers.

I was determined to play with everything in me. The cash prize was just another motivator. I was certain that the other couples were motivated as well. I could see them doing some little jumps in preparation. I turned to Sawyer. “Look, we have to plan this right. We have three lives. If any of us get hit, let us get out of the game and let the other continue. If one person gets hit twice we’ve lost two lives and it's not good to lose two lives at the beginning of the game.” Sawyer nodded.

The air in the room shifted, growing heavier. “Ava,” Luna prompted, raising her eyebrow. Ava exhaled sharply, sitting up straighter. “Something’s off.” Luna looked at her in confusion, “What do you mean?” Ava pointed at the screen. “Look at his eyes.” Luna did. And then she saw it. There was no reflection in his pupils. No catchlight from the bright studio lights, no mirrored image of the set. Just a void, deep, endless, like looking into something that didn’t belong.

I silently thank the Goddess that I kept my thin shirt on last night, too exhausted to pull it off. I notice a scroll on the ground close to my feet. I pick it up, and unfold it carefully, revealing precise, looping penmanship: ‘Step into Trial number three, Where shadows dance and none are free. In forest depths, you now remain, Where strength and wit may bring you gain. The bands you seek are high and bold, Taken from hands now growing cold. Collect the most and rise with pride, Or leave with nothing, cast aside. The final game begins today— Only nine are left to play.

The game was simple but the nature of the game was extremely unfriendly and deathly. “The game…” Her lips moved with no sound, was utterly confused. “Yeah. It’s your game but I simplify it.” “With?” “There will be no passport nor healing potion.” “Ha. ha. Ha.” She laughed soullessly. “There are a total of five lives. Each death will be felt in the body regardless of the process. For example, if they died by plunging the knife into the heart, a similar pain will be transmitted into the body. And, they will have to wait for the next rebirth. Each scenario will end once there’s no survivor.”

Three lives. Three.

Let the game begin. --

I found myself in a stark white room packed with people. The system's robotic voice announced, "Welcome, all 100 players, to the Survival of the Poorest. Starting funds: 50 dollars. Objective: Survive 7 days inside the game. The winner gets 1 million dollars in prize money! Overspending, dying, or stepping outside the designated area will be treated as a forfeit, and you will carry one million dollars in debt." Then, with a sly tone, it continued, "Now then, do any cowards want to back out?"

The user at the top started typing. ‘The game is about to begin. For the first game, you’ll be given some set of riddles and you have just 6minutes as a deadline for you to answer. We will both play in turns and whoever wins the finals passes but if you fail, it will lead to the death of one of your loved ones.” The moment I finished reading it, it disappeared from my screen. Okay this is getting a bit creepy but can someone tell this dumbass to stop playing with the life of my loved ones? Can we just get the game started? Pfff!

I drift off to sleep on the plane on the way back to Texas, only to awaken after having a very vivid dream or maybe I should say fantasy of Drake. I pour myself a drink and try to relax. I decided to change clothes and freshen up, just in case Drake met me at the airfield. Silly how I have to remind myself this is all just a game. I catch myself wanting him, wanting to please him, wanting to give myself to him. I have to remember that I want to hurt him, make him regret how he treated me. Lila, my wolf also reacts to Drake so strongly I constantly have to reign in. I continue to sip the burning alcohol that I am drinking, my excitement continues to grow at the thought of seeing Drake. Noth