Don T Open Your Eyes Game Novels & Stories

The world before my eyes began to crumble. The Coronation Hall, the bloodstained throne, Killian’s cooling corpse... Everything shattered like a mirror struck by a heavy hammer, dissolving into countless motes of light. The System’s voice rang out in the void one last time, filled with arrogant charity: [Congratulations on clearing the game. Wish granted: Full Resurrection.] [Disconnecting...] [Game Over.] Route 66, The RV. A violent jolt. I snapped my eyes open.

Who would bother stealing from us? The sun started to rise in the distance, bathing me in warm sunlight. Hannah and Blake came back hand in hand. The moment they pushed the gate, their faces fell. "Why isn't the gate locked?" They rushed inside, breathing a sigh of relief when they saw Grandma was okay. Grandma woke up with a start and grabbed Hannah's hand. "Oliver… Oliver!" "Don't any of you try to stop me today. I need to make sure Oliver understands how serious this is! If he can't even handle something as easy as watching the house, he'll be useless!"

I close my eyes. The game is over. But the nightmare? The nightmare has only just begun.

His skin was glistening with a fresh sheen of feverish sweat, his dark jaw clenched as he stared at the flashing grid maps of the shipyard. "You're bleeding again," I said, my voice low and flat as the adrenaline of the fight began to recede, leaving behind a cold, sharp irritability. Malakai didn't look up immediately. His large right hand flew across the mechanical keyboard, entering a complex string of commands that closed out the hijacked security feeds before he finally turned his dark, bloodshot eyes toward me.

There were posters of old movies on the walls. And sitting in the computer chair, their face illuminated by the blue light of the monitor, was a teenager. They were wearing headphones, their mouth slightly open in surprise. On their screen, they were looking at a game called **"THE ORIGIN: REVOLUTION."** On the screen, two tiny characters—a girl in a hospital gown and a boy in a hoodie—were standing in a white void, looking directly at the camera. The teenager blinked. They reached for the mouse. "Whoa," the teenager whispered. "Is this a 'Fourth Wall' break? This game is deep."

The kind that says I see you and I am glad and this is everything and I will not make it weird. When she pulls back her eyes are doing something. "Do not," I say. "I am not doing anything," she says. "Your eyes are doing something," I say. "They are fine," she says, blinking rapidly. "Completely fine. Dust." "Hackney dust." "Notorious for it," she says.

"They will insist on playing loud music and games during the height of the zombie outbreak! And they won't stop even when you tell them to!" "They're also going to eat up all of your rations and then eat your pets too!" "Don't you ever open that door! It's your last line of defense against them!" The knocking on the other side of the door continued, and my vision somehow felt like it had just been attacked by a virus with how the live comments kept popping up non-stop. Yet, all of them warned me not to open the door at all costs. I carefully withdrew my hand, feeling my heart thumping loudly in my chest.

“Let’s finish the game.” “He better not start anything,” Declan muttered as we all moved back to our positions. “He won’t,” I cut in quickly. Jackson raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that?” “He just won’t, okay?” I insisted Or at least I hoped so. Jackson didn’t look convinced, but he dropped it. The game resumed, loud and chaotic, but my focus wasn’t really there anymore. Every serve, every laugh, every shout blurred at the edges. Because even when I wasn’t looking at him—I could feel him.

I attempted a light tone, but it came out embarrassingly breathy. His eyes flicked up. "Very f–" The abrupt break in his sentence charged the air, as sudden and devastating as a lightning strike. My steps faltered, then halted altogether. Every nerve ending sparked with awareness, sending goosebumps down my spine and oxygen out of my lungs as our gazes met. Dante didn't take his eyes off mine, but his attention somehow touched every inch of my body until it came alive, like a black and white film thrown into technicolor.

(HIS ONCE DREAD) “YOU need to wake up and open your eyes for the truth that is just behind the closed door JK. Open the door and see to yourself what you should do and not. In this grand game where every one of us is merely a tool, you need to know and choose who should you trust and gave your trust, and not.”