~Adrian's POV~
The sharp cold hit me first, like stepping into a freezer without warning. My eyes snapped open, and I stood barefoot on rough, uneven cobblestone that dug into my soles. A gust of wind slapped my face, carrying a faint smell of smoke and something sour, like rotting fruit. I blinked, trying to make sense of where I was.
A massive courtyard stretched out around me, surrounded by towering stone walls that looked like they belonged in some medieval castle. Torches flickered along the walls, casting long, dancing shadows that made the place feel alive in all the wrong ways.
People started appearing around me, one by one, in flashes of white light. A guy in a wrinkled business suit, clutching a briefcase. A woman in pink pyjamas, her hair still in a messy bun. A teenager with a grocery bag, a loaf of bread poking out the top. There were over a thousand of us, maybe fifty thousand or more, all looking as confused as I felt. Some were shouting, others just staring, mouths open like they'd forgotten how to blink.
"Where the hell am I?" a man in a leather jacket yelled, spinning in a circle like he'd find an exit sign somewhere.
"I was just streaming... what the fuck?!" a girl with neon-green hair screamed, holding up her phone like it could explain anything.
"I need to go home! My kids are waiting for me..." a woman in a nurse's uniform sobbed, her voice breaking as she clutched a purse to her chest.
I glanced down at myself. Torn jeans, a wrinkled diner shirt still smelled like fryer grease, and no shoes. My socks were soaked from the damp cobblestone, and I curled my toes against the cold. Of course. Out of everyone here, I had to look like I'd just crawled out of a dumpster.
A loud chime cut through the chaos, sharp and unnatural. It wasn't a sound from the courtyard... it was in my head, echoing like a bell inside my skull.
[Welcome To The Game.]
The words didn't come from anywhere. They just appeared, burning across my vision in glowing white letters against a black background, like the loading screen of a video game. My stomach dropped. The murmurs around me grew louder, a mix of confusion and panic rippling through the crowd.
"What is that?"
"Is this a prank? Some kind of VR shit?"
"No way, this is too real—"
"What kind of game is this?"
Then a guy with a buzzcut and a gym-bro tank top shouted,
"Wait... isn't this the game from Nightmare Carnival?!"
The words hit like a bomb. The courtyard went dead silent. Faces paled, eyes widened, and a few people shook their heads, muttering,
"No... no way... that's just a story. A fucking book. It's not real..."
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might crack my ribs. Nightmare Carnival. The novel I'd been obsessed with for three years. The one with games that chewed people up and spit them out, where every chapter was a new nightmare, and no one was safe. If this was really that game... then we were all screwed. Everyone in that story ended up dead, one way or another.
Before anyone could say more, a shimmer of light split the air in front of us, bright enough to make me squint. The crowd gasped, stepping back as the light coalesced into a figure.
And then he appeared.
A tall man stood in the centre of the courtyard, his posture so perfect. His black suit was immaculate, not a wrinkle in sight, and his dark hair was slicked back like he'd just stepped out of a photoshoot.
But it was his sharp and piercing eyes that got me... Like they could see straight through you and out the other side. When he smiled, it was slow and deliberate, and half the crowd seemed to forget how to breathe. He didn't look human. He looked like trouble wrapped in a pretty package.
He spread his arms wide, like he was welcoming us to a party. "Welcome, players."
The silence was deafening. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.
He chuckled, a low, smooth sound that sent a shiver down my spine.
"You all are so calm, I like that. Well, this is just a game. An opportunity. If you play and survive, you might just become rich."
Murmurs. "Rich how?"
"What is he talking about?"
He smiled. "All you have to do is survive the challenges, complete the tasks, and rewards pour in. Real money, transferred to your accounts in the real world. But..." His gaze swept over the crowd, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "If you die here, you die out there. In reality."
The courtyard exploded. People screamed, cursed, and shoved each other. The woman in the nurse's uniform dropped to her knees, sobbing louder now. The guy in the leather jacket was yelling, "This is bullshit! Let me out!" The girl with the green hair was frantically tapping her phone, shouting, "Where's the logout button?! Where the hell is the exit?!"
"There is none," the man said, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. He didn't raise his voice, but it was still calm. "You were all chosen. You will play."
The crowd quieted, but the tension was thick, like the air before a storm. I stood frozen, my hands still clenched, my heart racing.
'Chosen? By who? The Author? The same one who'd replied to my comment?'
The man tilted his head, his smile widening just a fraction.
"Everyone of you will be given a unique skill. Something to help you survive the game. You may enter this world anytime you want to train, level up, or grow stronger. But once the weekly game begins, no matter where you are... You will be dragged here."
His words hung in the air, heavy and final. A few people whispered to each other, their voices filled with fear.
"Skills? Like... superpowers?" the gym-bro asked, his voice a mix of doubt and excitement.
The man didn't answer directly, just let his gaze sweep over the crowd again. And then it stopped. On me.
Our eyes locked, and my stomach twisted into knots. His smile didn't waver, but there was something in his expression... something that made me feel like he knew me. It was creepy as hell.
"Good luck," he said, his voice softer now, almost personal. "See you in a week."
And just like that, he vanished into thin air. There was no flash, no sound... just gone, like he'd never been there.
The courtyard flickered, the torches dimming for a split second. I blinked...
And I was back in my dorm room.
The familiar smell of stale ramen and unwashed laundry hit me like a slap. I was sprawled on my bed, my phone still in my hand, the springs creaking under me. My socks were still damp, my feet freezing, and my heart was still racing like I'd just run a marathon.
"What... the hell was that?" I whispered, my voice shaking.
I sat up, my hands trembling as I unlocked my phone. I opened the app where I'd read Nightmare Carnival. Gone. The icon was missing. I checked my browser history, the forums, and even the search bar. Nothing. Not a single trace of the novel existed. No chapters, no fan rants, no proof it had ever been real.
This wasn't a prank. This was real.
I set my phone down, carefully. My room was quiet, too quiet, and the silence made my skin crawl. I kept waiting for something to happen... for another glowing window, for anything to happen, but it didn't.
Maybe because I didn't say the actual words like they do in games...
'Status open!'
The window appeared in front of me and my eyes widened in shock. I really have a unique skill.
[Unique Skill Unlocked.]
I swallowed hard, my finger hesitating over the screen. This was it. Whatever this "game" was, this was my first step into it. I tapped the notification, and a new window opened:
DING!
[Skill: Cursed Resurrection]
[Effect: You will die every Friday. Each death strengthens your stats and unlocks new abilities.]
I stared at the words, my mouth dry.
"...You've got to be fucking kidding me. I die every what?"