Two weeks had passed since I arrived at the estate. Each day, I struggled to adapt to this new reality as Simon had requested. But it was impossible. Too many questions swirled endlessly in my head, mysteries that this place seemed to hide in every corner. How could I hope to feel at home in such a suffocating and agonizing place?
We were all locked up and condemned to wait for divine clemency that we didn't deserve. Some of us belonged in prisons, mental asylums, reformatories, or specialized clinics. Instead, we were trapped in the clutches of a perfectionist society, like puppets in the hands of gods.
Leaning against the windowsill, I reflected on everything I had been through and what lay ahead. The psychologist's old office had become my refuge. It was the only place without surveillance cameras where I could isolate myself and catch my breath. Though imperfect, the calm of this space gave me a semblance of peace.
Paradoxically, sometimes I missed the solitude. I needed to rediscover the oppressive silence and heavy emptiness that exacerbated my anxieties but reminded me that I was still me. However, the more time I spent there, the more a feeling of imminent death crept up on me. Like a silent shadow, it lurked, ready to snatch me up at any moment.
"Are you in the middle of a conspiracy theory again?" Simon snapped as he abruptly entered the office.
"You can't blame me for that. I can't act like everything's normal like you do" I replied, my voice tinged with frustration.
"I'm sure you could adapt if you really wanted to," he retorted in an almost too serene tone. "You need to accept this place as your new home. This is our reality now."
"No, Simon, it's your reality, not mine," I retorted dryly. You're free to believe what you want, but don't impose your illusions on me. I refuse to reduce my existence to that grotesque scenario. I have a life to rebuild, and I won't let anyone get in my way. Not even you."
The air grew heavier, and each word sounded like an underlying threat.
Simon sighed, searching for his words.
"My goal was never to hold you here against your will. I just want to protect you. You could have a peaceful, sheltered life here with us. That's what's best for you."
"Oh, yeah?" I said, my fists clenching. "And who are you to decide what's good or bad for me? A deity, perhaps? Or are you one of the bastards who locked us in here?"
My voice rose to a near-scream. Simon shook his head vigorously.
"No, of course not! Don't talk nonsense. I have nothing to do with them!"
"Then why didn't you tell me that I was a resident of the restricted floors?"
Simon's silence spoke louder than any answer. I approached, glowering.
"Answer me, damn it!" I shouted.
Simon looked away before murmuring,
"I didn't want Hugo to poison your mind. He's obsessed with the idea of escaping. But I'm convinced everything will be fine as long as we don't try anything."
"Stop that! You can't force us to stay here or make us accept this place as a second home. I'd rather risk my life passing the tryout," I exclaimed, my voice trembling with anger.
Simon lowered his head for a moment, his eyes shining with emotion. Then, in a trembling voice, he replied.
"Finn, you don't understand. "All those who have been selected have been damned by the gods. This tryout is a one-way ticket to death, and if you ever displease the rulers, you risk paying for it with your life. Is that really what you want?"
His words chilled me, but I refused to be impressed.
"How do you know that?" I asked suspiciously.
Simon looked away slightly, hesitant.
"That's not important," he murmured. "What matters is that you understand that as long as you stay quiet, nothing will happen to you. Maybe one day you'll be able to get out of here."
"Maybe?" I repeated, a bitter laugh escaping me. "Do you really think I'm going to settle for maybe ? I've spent nine years waiting for my parents to set me free. And guess what? It never happened. I had to kill them before they killed me. Believe me, I'm ready to do the same with the bastards who kidnapped me."
Simon seemed to waver under the weight of my words. He looked at me in despair.
"Please, Finn. Don't do anything stupid. Don't destroy the stability we've spent years building here."
I stared at him, a cold smile on my lips.
"This isn't stability, Simon.It's an illusion. You hide behind these stories of gods to give yourself hope. No matter what you do for these gods or how wise or docile you are, the only reward waiting for you is death. It's time you accepted that."
"Sniff... Do you think you're the only one suffering here?" Simon said, his voice breaking. "We're all suffering, Fimn. But we chose not to spend our days crying and worrying. When we realized that we couldn't escape and that we were safe as long as we obeyed the rules, we decided to move on. We adapted. We helped each other. We protected each other. I'm not asking you to do the impossible. Just give this place a chance. Please."
"Sorry, but no " I replied coldly, leaving the room and leaving Simon devastated behind me.
I couldn't bring myself to sacrifice my life for the illusion of freedom. What they called security was just a mirage, a trap in disguise. I knew that no matter what choices I made, death would eventually catch up with me. So I might as well face it my way, with my eyes open. I preferred to fight rather than passively wait for death to take me by surprise. Death in the struggle was better than an existence in denial.
At precisely 10 p.m., the building fell silent. Automated systems locked off all floors. The room doors sealed with a muffled slam that echoed through the deserted corridor. It was going to be a long night, but I couldn't wait for daybreak, our escape plan was about to begin.
The emergency lights suddenly came on, flooding the space with a blood-red light that pulsed with every heartbeat. It was a rude awakening: a siren sounded loudly in every block, and the red lights glowed like distress signals in the darkness. Beyond the door, heavy footsteps and distorted intercom voices could be heard. The guards were there like trained shadows, ready to catch us. They knocked on every door, ordering us to evacuate.
The endless corridors were lined with menacing shadows on the white walls, like specters ready to swallow us up. The sound of our footsteps pounding on the floor was the only sound that mattered. Fear and a desperate will to survive and understand what was happening mixed together.
"Attention, please. All residents are requested to evacuate their buildings immediately. This is not a drill. All residents are asked to evacuate their buildings immediately by order of gods." The cold, female voice echoed through the loudspeakers, resonating in the air like a menacing warning.
The impassive tone of the announcement contrasted sharply with the chaos unfolding before us. We stood motionless in front of our building, our eyes riveted on the scene before us. Agitated figures, their faces haunted by panic, jostled and screamed while others tried desperately to maintain their composure. It was madness. Simon and Hugo were on the front line, trying to reason with people on the verge of insanity, but their voices were lost in the growing tumult. The alarm continued to howl, a piercing cry that pounded the atmosphere and crept into our minds like a threat.
A dark foreboding awoke within me, an icy unease that wouldn't leave. Horror wrapped itself around my thoughts like a suffocating mist.
Despite the blankets that enveloped us, the biting cold of the night pierced us as we searched for warmth that seemed to elude us. We all sat on the floor like abandoned puppets, holding cups of hot chocolate. The heavy silence was interspersed with scattered murmurs. Voices mingled, trying to escape into the air, but every word seemed too risky, as if the slightest strong word could trigger a violent reaction. Everyone tried to divert their minds from what had just happened and ignore the terror befalling us. For many, this simulacrum of normality seemed to work, but for me, the tension was palpable and unbearable.
Armed guards patrolled around us, their piercing eyes searching for the slightest suspicious movement. Their dark silhouettes stood out against the flickering lights, reinforcing the impression that we were prisoners under surveillance. Hospital staff circulated among us, conducting check-ups one by one. They crowded around each of us to make sure we were healthy. But why these incessant checks? What were they really after? I had no answer, but I was even more worried by every gesture and movement of these supervisors.
What terrified me most was the idea that the same chaos was happening all over the complex.
The confusion was total. From north to south and east to west, all the residents, from the oldest to the youngest, and girls and boys alike, had been evacuated from their buildings and plunged into a collective panic. Incomprehension hung in the air like a thick mist, and the tension was palpable and oppressive. We had no idea what was in store for us.
"Go to hell!" It's three in the morning, and you want to give me a checkup? Don't bother me; I won't cooperate! Fuck off" Gavin growled, briskly pushing aside the medical staff who tried to approach him.
"These guys are crazy! I swear, as soon as I get an opening, I'm out of here!" he declared defiantly.
Sheldon, his eyebrows furrowed, scanned his surroundings intently. "I don't know about you, but this whole thing smells bad. Something's going on. Stay on your guard!"
Calm and thoughtful, Yuxuan nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon as if he had perceived something indescribable. "I think I see my sister..."
Hugo, who had been silent until then, murmured in a low, certain voice:
"That's good news. She's still alive. But keep a low profile for now."
Just as he finished, the loudspeakers suddenly activated. Everyone instantly froze, as if the slightest movement could be fatal. A heavy, oppressive silence fell over the crowd, paralyzing everyone in anticipation of what was to come. The tension was palpable, and fear, trepidation, and apprehension about what was to come were visible on everyone's faces and could be felt throughout our bodies.
"Attention, please. Under orders from the leaders, 500 male residents aged 17 to 20 will be selected tonight to join the Forbidden Zone. All residents called will be expected in the Forbidden Zone. Buses will be provided to take you beyond the Laomedon wall. Please do not bring anything with you and return your wristbands to the hospital staff."
The moment these words were uttered, a wave of panic swept through our building. The heavy silence that preceded the announcement exploded into a cacophony of confused screams, desperate cries, and panicked murmurs. The emotions were as chaotic as the announcement itself, and palpable fear gripped everyone.
In my mind, the information was all over the place. I didn't remember the Laomedon mythology precisely, but I did recall one crucial detail about him: Laomedon had built a wall to separate mortals from the gods. Did this mean that the gods were on the other side? Were those who had locked us in hiding just behind Laomedon's wall?
Some residents stood together, their faces distorted by terror as they cried. Others jostled for answers in the crowd, but none emerged from the swirl of emotions. The selection process had officially begun, and names scrolled endlessly through the loudspeakers. Their sinister echo hit every soul present like a hammer blow. It was a macabre census, a cruel game in which each name was a ticket to the unknown. The internees' diversity, people of all nationalities, accentuated the absurdity of the scene, an unbearable demonstration of this world's injustice.
Three buses pulled up in front of us simultaneously, their metal doors opening with a sinister clang. They were waiting for the convicts from our block. The atmosphere was saturated with terror. Every face showed horror, except for the inmates on the restricted floors. They remained strangely calm and almost indifferent, as if they had already accepted their fate.
The cries of those who had been called mingled with the others', creating a tide of confusion, despair, and anger. Each inmate hoped to be forgotten, praying inwardly that their name would not be called next. The list went on and on, a long series of destinies breaking down one by one. Then, like a falling knife, Simon's name rang through the air:
"Ares Block, resident Simon Coleman."
Instantly, silence fell, heavy and oppressive. The air seemed to freeze in an interminable moment. Simon's announcement shook everyone to the core, it was a real shock. Reactions came thick and fast: tears, cries of anger and confusion. The uproar grew louder, but Simon, despite the tears in his eyes, forced a smile. It was nothing more than a mask of resignation. In a trembling yet firm voice, he reassured the others, promising them that all would be well and begging them to take care of each other in his absence. Then, slowly, he turned and made his way toward the buses, his footsteps echoing on the floor. Simon's every move seemed heavy with meaning. As he climbed into the vehicle, silent devastation descended upon the crowd, which continued to weep and cry out against the injustice of what had just happened.
The names continued to roll in uninterrupted like a merciless sentence. It wasn't long before mine was called:
"Jesse Vaughn, Nathaniel Grant, Finn Shepherdson, Ian Hunter, Gavin Mayers, William Harvey, Sheldon Hall, Hugo Durand, Aditya Singh, Giuseppe Moretti, George Big Ben, Lee Yuxuan, Ryan McCartney, Xavier Lane, Adam Carpenter, Elio McGill..."
An icy sensation seized me. My heart seemed to stop beating for a moment. The dizziness of the situation overwhelmed me, and I heard a thud in my ears as if my blood had stopped circulating. I heard my name being spoken, but I didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse.
The names followed one another in a slow procession, but there was a stony silence. Nobody moved; nobody dared take a step toward the buses. Horror was written on every face, and terror seemed to freeze everyone in place. Words echoed in the air, but none of us could bring ourselves to answer the call. Heading for those buses seemed to mean accepting our own demise.
"I don't know about you, but I'm getting the hell out of here!" Gavin announced, breaking the tense silence as he strode toward the bus.
"I'm with you. I'm sick of seeing the same dickheads every morning," Rayn replied, his teeth clenched in frustration.
"Wait for me!" Jesse yelled, running after them.
"Fuck! Now I have to go. If we get killed, I'm going to ruin your lives, even in hell!" Yuxuan threatened, fists clenched, before slipping into the group.
It was as if a spark had ignited the fuse. Suddenly, everyone seemed determined to face what was about to happen instead of waiting for it to end. We followed without exchanging a word; the tension between us was palpable. Once we were all crammed onto the bus, the doors slammed shut, trapping us in a bubble of uncertainty.
I still hadn't said a word since my name was called. I was too busy thinking about what was coming next and the situation unfolding before us. My mind was racing, trying to unravel the mystery of what awaited us behind that wall. Stress and anxiety were eating away at me, making every moment unbearable.
As I reconnected to reality, I witnessed the tension that had arisen between Nathaniel and Simon. A furtive glance told me that something was amiss. There was an exchange of words and gestures that betrayed silent anger. Though discreet at first, the argument quickly escalated. I was too lost in thought to grasp the initial details, but I could see the furious glances they exchanged.
"We could have avoided all this shit if you'd been honest with us!" Nathaniel cried, his voice full of anger and his eyes staring at Simon with rare intensity.
"Stop it. There's no point in looking for someone to blame" Aditya said, placing a hand on Simon's shoulder to calm them down.
But Nathaniel would have none of it. He turned his gaze to Aditya, furious, and immediately retorted.
No, he has to hear it, everyone has to hear it! After you were appointed representative, we all know that you received an enormous amount of information from the leaders. You could have told us everything, but instead, you chose to remain silent and make us believe that this was a peaceful place. Now look where we are!"
He paused for a moment, breathless from the intensity of his words, before continuing more acerbically:
"That's why I shared the little information you gave me with the others. I wanted us to work together to find a way out of here!"
The tension rose a notch when, in a burst of anger, Simon continued, "Congratulations! Now we're all going to die because of you!"
"You've got a lot of nerve!" Jesse replied, his face twisting in rage. "I don't know what's holding me back from sticking it to you!"
The argument quickly escalated. Suddenly, Jesse stood up with clenched fists, ready to fight. George immediately supported him.
"If you don't do it, I will!" he growled, his muscles tense and his eyes shining with anger.
"If we're going to die, we might as well make sure that moron suffers as much as we have," Hugo added, his face contorted with hatred.
The atmosphere was electric. Every breath felt heavy and every look was threatening. Gavin, who was always on the lookout for chaos, encouraged the others with an almost sadistic smile.
"I'm so fucking horny! Hit it, boys! Let the blood flow!"
But before the situation could degenerate any further, Aditya intervened, calm but firm.
"Stop it! I think he understands now!" he shouted, stepping between Simon and the others. He tried to restore some semblance of calm. "Stop overthinking. Hurting him won't change the situation. I'm angry too. Simon, I trusted you at first, but your way of thinking..." He paused, his gaze fixed on Simon, his tone tinged with disappointment and frustration.
Tension was running high, but a few words from Hugo were enough to temporarily calm the situation. Everyone realized that, despite their anger and frustration, violence would not change the situation.
"Aditya, listen to me. I—" began Simon, but he was interrupted by the cold, authoritative voice over the loudspeakers.
The voice faded, giving way to an almost oppressive silence. Less than two minutes after the announcement, the buses began rolling toward the wall. The farther we went, the more buses joined the queue, following the same path as sheep heading to the slaughterhouse. The reality of the situation hit me hard. We're going to die.