I took a deep breath, trying to steady my footing despite the tremble rising through my body like a low electric current that wouldn't stop. The darkness was still king of the room, hiding everything and revealing only what we feared: ourselves, our fear, and the voice of the doll.
I whispered in a tone that barely made it out of my throat, a tone I tried to keep steady, though it was nothing more than a disguised tremble:
"S-So... will you let us go after we play with you?"
I fell silent after that, listening to the emptiness in front of me, waiting for her response like a man awaiting a verdict of pardon or execution.
Heavy seconds passed before her voice returned, laced with a sarcastic tone, as if mocking our naivety:
"Let you go?...Hmm, well, why not..."
She paused.
We waited for the rest of the sentence, but only silence answered first—and that silence alone was enough to make the heart quiver.
Then she continued, in a strange voice, where mad laughter danced on a bridge of threat:
"But... if you do not entertain me..."
Her voice stopped suddenly.
It wasn't a pause for breath—it was deliberate... like she was savoring our fear, enjoying our anxious wait for the sentence's end.
Then she continued, this time dripping with malice and menace:
"I will punish you...hyaahyaahee...heeheeheehee!"
I froze.
It felt like the air stopped in my lungs.
The word "punish" echoed in my ears like an eternal curse, spinning in my mind like a wicked spell I couldn't escape.
I swallowed hard, my thoughts stumbling chaotically in my head:
Punish us?!
What exactly does she mean?!
Is it a threat of death? Or something worse?! Torture? Mutilation?
No... I can't let fear paralyze me.
Pull yourself together... hold on.
But her voice returned, chasing every attempt I made to think clearly.
She spoke more clearly now, her words carrying an unavoidable decision:
"Since we are playing only one game...I will let you choose it."
My heart skipped a beat as I held my breath, not believing what I just heard.
But she wasn't done:
"You have three minutes...to decide which game we will play."
Then she added in a calm tone... but one that carried a monster behind it, waiting to pounce:
"And if the three minutes pass...without a decision..."
A short laugh, then a wicked whisper:
"Then I will choose the game."
A chill washed over me, one that had nothing to do with temperature.
Three minutes?!
Only three?!
How can we decide something like this when we don't even know what kind of games she's thinking about?!
I looked into the darkness toward Cairo.
Three minutes.
Three minutes to decide our fate.
If we chose the wrong game... punishment might mean more waiting, or a horror beyond imagination.
And if we didn't choose anything... the doll would choose.
And you can imagine what kind of game a deranged doll might pick after centuries in darkness.
My breath began to quicken again.
I had to think fast... but fear naturally freezes thought.
Time was passing.
The doll was watching.
And danger... was breathing with us in the room.
The countdown had started in my mind, even though I had no watch.
But every second felt like a nerve being ripped out.
The game... we had to choose it.
Now.
Before it was too late.
...
I looked into the darkness beside me, where Cairo was supposed to be standing, and a feeling of isolation began to suffocate me, even though I knew he was near. I reached out hesitantly, searching for anything, until my fingers brushed against his shirt. I grabbed it with a hint of desperation, as if clinging to a reality that was beginning to collapse.
I whispered, my voice barely melting into the gloom:
"Cairo... we have to choose a game quickly... do you have any ideas?"
I held my breath.
No response.
A few seconds passed, feeling like an eternity... no sound, no movement, just silence growing heavier, as if the room's walls were closing in.
I whispered again, this time with a bit of worry:
"Cairo? Hello? Can you hear me?"
But the darkness remained silent... and Cairo's face stayed hidden, no words, no signs of life.
And here... fear crept into my heart in a different way.
Not from the doll this time... but from Cairo himself.
Was he paralyzed by fear? Had his mind shut down? Had he given up?
Suddenly I felt alone, even though there were two of us.
Tension rose, my heart pounding, and I felt like I was facing this alone.
What if he didn't wake up? What if the decision was left to me alone? What if I picked the wrong game?!
The questions lashed me like whips:
Would I lead us to doom? Would we die? Is this the end? Did we come here... just to play... and die?!
"We're going to die... we're going to die!" — my mind screamed inside, repeating it like a child's cry in a moonless night.
But I refused to surrender to that dreadful echo.
And in a moment of rage, of wanting to break the paralysis... I raised my hand and slapped myself hard!
A real slap.
Not symbolic nor hesitant... but one that made my face burn in pain, my eyelid twitch.
But it woke me up.
Ah, it hurt... but it was real... and I needed something real.
I caught my breath, then looked again toward the emptiness beside me, and without hesitation, I raised my other hand and slapped Cairo's cheek with sudden force.
I heard a faint groan, then a hoarse voice trying to suppress a scream:
"Owwww! Why did you do that?!"
A strange relief washed over me.
He was back.
I whispered quickly, exhaling tension:
"You're finally awake... we don't have time for this now! We need to choose a game quickly!"
Cairo remained still for a moment, then whispered hesitantly, clear worry in his voice:
"B-But what if we choose the wrong game? What if the one we pick... is hard?!"
His whisper wasn't just fear, but a desperate clinging to any reason not to choose... hesitation when danger is real.
But I looked at him—or where he was—and said with quiet determination:
"But we haven't even tried yet... we don't know what awaits us, but we have to try at least."
He went silent.
I felt his hesitation as if I could see him in the dark.
He was thinking, battling himself, trying to find a way out... or courage.
Then, after a heavy silence, he said:
"O-Okay... it's not like we have better options."
His voice still trembled, but it held a seed of decision.
And in facing a mad doll... a seed of decision might be all we have.
---
And after Cairo regained some of his awareness, he remained silent for a while, breathing slowly, as if still trying to climb out of the cave of fear he'd fallen into moments ago. He seemed to be calming his heartbeat, gathering the shattered pieces of his thoughts.
As for me, I stood there, tense, watching him through the darkness, even though I couldn't see his features. I could only sense him... sense his hesitation, his internal stumbling, his fear that the next mistake might be the last.
I stepped closer to him, whispering in a voice I tried to keep calm despite its faint tremble:
"S-So... is there an easy game... we can play?"
Cairo was silent for a moment, as if weighing the matter in his mind, then replied softly, as if speaking itself was a burden:
"I think I have... an idea for an easy game."
A tiny spark of hope lit inside me. I clung to it immediately and whispered quickly:
"What is it?"
But he didn't answer right away.
I heard his voice dip again into caution and doubt, as if even voicing the idea was too heavy:
"But... I don't know if this game will be... a good one."
There was no time for this hesitation.
I whispered firmly, closer than before:
"Just... tell me the game. Now."
Cairo sighed slowly, then said, trying to sound rational:
"The game... is the Silence Game. For five minutes. Whoever moves, laughs, whispers, or does anything... loses."
The Silence Game...
The idea echoed in my head, and it seemed simple... frighteningly so.
We just... stay silent. No movement. No sound. No deep breaths. Not even a whisper.
But Cairo wasn't done.
He continued, his voice dropping lower, as if even thinking scared him:
"But... do you think... the doll will consider... blinking... a loss?"
My breath caught.
He continued, trying to convince me, or maybe himself:
"Maybe she will... but when we were kids, blinking was something exceptional. Something involuntary... like a heartbeat... or blood flow... right?"
I didn't answer.
I stayed silent.
I didn't know... what to say.
His idea... made sense.
And at the same time, it didn't.
Yes, blinking can't be stopped easily. It's a natural reflex. But we're not dealing with something natural here... but a being with unpredictable rules, and an unpredictable view of "fairness" or "loss."
She might see it as "cheating."
She might see it as "breaking the rules."
And simply... she might decide to kill us.
I swallowed hard, feeling my heart racing unnaturally. I looked into the void before me, into the darkness that held us all, as if the walls themselves were waiting for our decision.
I suddenly realized that the simplicity of this game might be deceptive.
We might think we'll survive by staying silent... but what if that silence is the trap?
I had no answer.
Only... my fear.
And Cairo's fear.
And an idea... that might be our salvation.
Or our end.