Player 001 X Player 456 Novels & Stories

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So, I click it open, narrowing my eyes. 'Hayden — 1, Dylan — 0' The fuck?

Just as I was drifting off, the system broadcast suddenly rang out. "Players 22, 37, 48, 55, and 63 have been eliminated. They now have a one-million-dollar debt!" I jolted wide awake, no longer feeling drowsy. I remembered that the scarred man was Player 22. Five people were all eliminated! What the hell had happened?

Cold bit into my skin as it snapped the band on. It seated itself flush just above my Regret Mark, a strip of something between metal and rubber, edges seamless with my flesh. LEDs chased themselves along its surface, then settled into a slow pulse. The display on it flickered to life. \[ID: W.R. ROANE\] \[STATUS: ACTIVE PLAYER\] \[SCORE: 0000\] Beneath that, a set of category headers blinked into existence: KILLS: 0000 ASSISTS: 0000

“I don’t think I have met you two.” He indicated to the other players at the table. “I already said I am Adrea,” Adrea said as she checked her cards. She had a pair of nines — one of spades and the other of diamonds. “I am Laurence,” the player next to Moreau said. “Francis Sutton,” the player after Laurence said. “You can call me Frank.” Frank then looked at Adrea and said, “I detect a similarity in your accent and Moreau’s.” Adrea smiled and said, “We play for the same sponsor. And flew here from the same city.”

He looked scared, and I'd never seen Damien Cross scared of anything. Good. Let him be scared for once. A giant screen flickered to life above us, showing our faces in small boxes like a video game character selection screen. Next to each face was a number. The number and faces kept increasing till it reached 4000. Mine said "Player 7." Damien was "Player 13." We were a diverse group of 4,000 people in the middle of nowhere. "Welcome to THE SURVIVAL GAME! You are four thousand strong! Well, for now anyway." the cheerful robotic voice came again.

Even though no one is allowed to shift we tend to play in a half wolf half human state because we become way faster and play better. The game continues with a fierce intensity, as I leap and sprint across the field trying to take the ball from their defender. His claws and teeth flash as we battle for possession of the ball. The crowd watches in amazement and screams when I deftly dribble and pass the ball to Matty without even making sure he’s open. But of course he is open because we’ve practiced this play a few times and when the ball lands on his feet he scores a clean goal. The fans start screaming again when we do our celebratory dance which is silly and childish I can’t stop smiling.

He's a freakn' beast. Naomi watched in rapt fascination as player number forty-four scored yet another goal. Like an implacable freight train, he plowed through the opposition's defense as if they didn't exist, using his size, and surprising speed, to bowl them over. At the end of his shift, he went to sit his turn on the bench, but her fascination in the game didn't waver. Her attention ended up snagged by player sixty-nine. Smaller in stature than the behemoth, he absorbed her just as completely with his feline grace as he twisted and moved around the floor. He almost danced as he ran, his stick held high and usually cradling the ball.

If people want to really get away from the game there are two ways first is to die and another is to- [ Ding! Welcome player no.35089 to 'Halloween's Party'] But why am I selected? [Transferring to the first copy in 3…2…1… Reminder: Players, Don’t die!] Hey! Wait…you have got the wrong person!

Something to clear my head. Somehow, that walk led me here. And somehow, my eyes found him. Alistair Morano, number 7, black jersey clinging to his frame, hair slicked back with sweat. He looked like sin dipped in sunlight, sharp jaw set in frustration as he screams something I couldn't even hear through the loud boos to his teammates. I watch as a guy from the Veritas team strikes the ball toward Aurum goalpost, the ball slipping past the keeper and into the net.