"…Yes, I won't let you die."
I smiled.
I knew that his past would be of use to me. That strong desire to protect others was engraved in him from a young age.
The minutes began to ruthlessly fly by with many growing a sense of urgency.
[Time Limit 0:38:47]
Humans were not predisposed to wanting to kill one another. Everyone here seemed to be waiting selfishly and desperately for someone to take action. Whether it be a self-sacrifice or a murder, someone needed to do something.
At this desperate time, like a hero emerging to rescue them, Simon began a languid walk to the center of the circle.
"Hey!" He shouted loudly to the whole muttering scared masses.
A quiet ensued at the confident voice ringing through their ears like salvation.
"We need to make a decision! I say we have a vote and decide which group of people will have to die!" His voice filled the silence with a horrifying statement.
Many voiced their agreement with desperation thick in the air and self-preservation taking over.
"I vote that since there's only one winner, the weakest group and the least likely to win, should die," he said in that same loud confident voice.
Yes, he was the reason so many of the women died in the first game. Those with limps, delicate surgeries, or the old were also victims to Simon's speech. He was one to care only about himself and how to prove his worth to his father.
"...Will, if you say you'll protect me this time, could you do me a favor?" I asked, my eyes baring into his dark brown ones.
"...If I can help," he said unconfident but willing.
Simon continued, "It is unfortunate, but the reality is that the weak will not survive as long as the strong. A better chance of survival should guarantee that group through the first game!"
Many men were agreeing with his words as the woman started pleading and attempting to offer other options—anything that could save them.
"I disagree!" Shouted Will, turning many heads to his intimidating stature.
Simon looked at Will calmly, like the outburst was within his expectations. His attitude was grating my nerves after his words placed a direct target on me.
"Good people are the ones who should live! You obviously aren't one for even suggesting that the weak should be killed. I think you should be the one to die first!" Shouted Will, his eyes hardening with conviction.
Many began to become conflicted and asked how we could even measure who was a good person.
"There are many that I've heard plan to kill the others while we were all talking. I can point each out," said Will.
"Isn't that hypocritical?" Simon replied with a soft cackle, as on edge as I've seen him here.
"No, you suggested that the weak die and I suggest that the evil people like you should die," he said firmly, his voice carrying confidently to the crowd.
A few men were against Simon and took the chance to agree. Other men wanted to protect their self interest of survival so they stayed silent to avoid Will's righteous judgement.
"How can we trust this man isn't lying?" Simon stared into the eyes of the masses.
"I overheard that group saying they'd target that older man with a cane first!" Shouted a blonde woman from across the room.
More women and men started yelling who they allegedly overheard plotting murder.
The room became embroiled in chaos and Simon furrowed his brows in frustration. He was losing the advantage of avoiding an all out battle—hoping to have the players aim the target away from him onto a more precise group.
If he was caught in the battle, he was at a much greater risk of dying. I could see the cogs in his brain churning away at this unexpected failure. I knew his next words would be dangerous so I whispered to Will.
"Hey! Everyone, we know who has shown all of us his true colors first," Will shouted, pointed a damning finger a wide-eyed Simon.
Before long, a man came behind Simon and restrained him, pulling both of his arms behind his back tightly.
"No no...nononono," Simon muttered quietly with a crazy look in his eyes.
[Time Limit 0:21:13]
The man in a gray hoody holding onto Simon looked to the players nearby, "We need to start killing people or else we'll all die!"
They returned the desperate call to act with a numbed silence, unwilling to be the first to commit murder.
The man grunted in a panicked frustration before quickly re-placing his hands around Simon's throat.
My eyes were trained to the ominously expressionless Simon as his death seemed imminent. Any minute now, I would have a saving grace.
Simon began to gasp, no air entering his helpless lungs.
"Stop!" Brittle shouted through the speakers.
The noise caused an immediate silence of the players, the exploded man still lying in a pool of blood as a grim reminder.
The man holding Simon loosened his grip in shock, letting Simon gulp down greedy life-saving breaths.
"This game is o-over! We will play a new game momentarily," said Brittle to a shell-shocked audience.
The timer then promptly froze and the TV withdrew once again being covered by a white piece of the wall.
Simon was released quickly and the man that was choking him fell to his knees with a pained expression. The man looked severely troubled, but Simon somehow looked more disturbed—correction, he looked furious.
The game maker had helped him survive, his initial promise to be impartial clearly broken in the first game. This event wasn't supposed to happen until the 8th game, but I've accelerated the timeline.
When this incident occurred, the game that they prepared was a simple one that was used in a hurry. The masked audience would not be pleased with a delay in their oh so entertaining show.
Relief flooded my system as I somehow managed to survive. This victory was short-lived as I recounted my memories of this alternate game. My chances have increased but not much more than before.
I was about to enter a 1v1 private arena where a man or woman would be trying with everything they've got to kill me.