The Game - Part 1 (My Original Short Stories)

The dank, dark room felt like it was closing in on them. Damp moisture covered every inch of the rough stony surfaces encompassing the small enclosure. It reeked of a musty, stagnant aroma that they were now only too used to. Minimal light, no windows, just a solitary metal door decorated this hollow abyss. Time pressed on as always, but left behind no clue for them to ascertain what hour, day or even month they were in. An inescapable void was their place of dwelling for an unspecified amount of time. Sheer survival and hope was the only thing driving them to carry on.

War can be one of the most damaging and brutal times in a nation’s history. It brings out the most carnal of traits in humanity and almost always leads to the bloodshed of countless numbers of people involved. Directly and indirectly.

It had been three months since the overthrowing of the government by the P.L.A. followed by UN intervention for military retaliation. Pockets of P.L.A. resistance dotted the landscape as foreign armed forces swept through villages and cities. With the limited amount of resources needed for securing a stronger foothold of authority within the country, time was running out for the rebels. Different strategic tactics were required. P.O.W.’s seemed the next viable option.

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Sheila Dullet sat huddled against the cold, hard wall. Sometimes it was impossible to tell if she was dreaming or awake. The only colours and brightness brought to fruition were through memories and imagination. She hugged her knees, tightly curling herself into a small ball of flesh and bone. There was no way of telling how long they were down there in this freezing hellhole. What could have been presumably a few weeks seemed like years. Her stomach gurgled and ached almost constantly for the last few days. Assuming it actually was a few days.

The single dim light bulb hung silently in the centre of the room. Their only scarce source of light, with the exception of the rectangular outline constantly shining through the edges of the large door. She gazed up at the ceiling, then at the singular bulb.

“Look at the sun, Ben.” she said wistfully. “Lovely, isn’t it. Spreading its eternal flame throughout our tiny world. Keeping us safe and alive.” Her blue eyes gleamed dully through the shadows. “How lucky we are, eh? Ben?” She shook her head despairingly and looked to the far corner of the room, faintly seeing a dark figure lying horizontally on the floor.

“Just rest, Sheila. Come lie next to me.” Though she didn’t know it, Ben was watching her through the darkness. “We will not give in to this horror we've landed in. Life has placed us on this path and we must not give up. Try to keep strong, please. Just lie here and sleep.” The brown shawl left by the P.L.A. providing some warmth from the cold and filth around them was barely adequate but sufficient.

“Sleep, Ben? Do you even know the difference anymore? I’m so weak. I have no strength left in my arms, legs and heart. I wish they’d just end it. A release from here either with or without our lives in tact is better than this.” She ran her fingers through matted hair. Some strands tugged at her scalp causing her to grimace with pain. Her lip cracked with the pressure and started bleeding. The suffering was relentless in every sense of the word.

“Don’t say that, Sheila. Remember the promise we made to each other? Together to the end? For better or for worse, till death do us part? Well, I intend to honour my side of that pact. Please, I beg of you to do the same. I love you, we will get through this. As long as we have a beating heart in our bodies and can still function as human beings, we will get out of this, I promise you.”

“Don’t promise me that, Ben. Not things you can’t keep to. That’s not fair, giving me false hope when there is none to speak of. Don’t forget I came here with you to this ruined city on the assumption that we were going to make things better. Help the injured, you said. Do the right thing by those who desperately needed assistance, you said. Don’t you get it? Charity aid work back home is very different to what it is in a war-torn place like this. I told you it would be dangerous. Where are our patients now? Those who we healed and cared for. I'll tell you where. Shot dead and slaughtered like pigs! Lying in some ditch, rotten like us in here. The only difference is we're still alive in our graves!” The room swayed as she tried to steady her nerves to regain control. Hunger and thirst were chipping away slowly at her rationality.

“Shelia, we could never have expected this. We were good people just trying to make a difference. Two mature, respected doctors offering support to the places in the world that need it most. How could we turn down such a valuable opportunity? Plus, who knows what’s happening on the outside. Our own government must be working on negotiations to get us out of here. They won’t just leave us here to die. Please, just have faith. I’m so sorry about all this, Sheila.” Ben’s voice echoed in the blackness of the shadows. She could hear the emotion and guilt in his words, but they offered her no comfort.

“Sorry won’t get us out of here, will it? Nothing will, just face it. We’re old now. We probably didn’t have too many years left anyways. I just wish I could have looked upon our children’s faces just one more time. Just one more second even. I never got to say goodbye properly.” She recalled when they captured her, they took away her precious wallet containing everything she owned, including a scant few family photos she kept as a reminder she will be home soon.

Ben sighed deeply with frustration. The one thing they didn’t have right now was options and he had to not only fight his own demons, but keep his Sheila in a sound state of mind too.

As silence blanketed the room once more, footsteps could be heard from afar nearing their prison cell. They both stirred as the sound grew nearer and nearer. “Feeding time.” Ben muttered under his breath, not loud enough for Sheila to hear though.

“Ben, you hear that?” she said in a panic.

“Sheila, listen. Just stay calm and don’t say much, just as we agreed. You understand?”

Fear gripped Sheila as she nodded in compliance, forgetting that Ben could not see her do it.

“You understand?” Ben said louder.

"Yes, Ben. But I’m scared. What are they going to do?” a meek voice said in the blackness.

The footsteps stopped outside the door. A resounding grating of metal against metal followed by a thundering clang, and the door groaned open. An officer in traditional P.L.A. clothing entered and shone a blinding flashlight into the room. Ben and Sheila’s eyes burned like hot coals as they instantly recoiled, covering their faces with their arms. The sting was excruciating.

He scanned the room for several seconds before directing the light back to them.

“So, you’re still with us, I see. Good. Don’t want anything to happen to you. For now, anyways.” he said with a thick accent.

They gradually uncovered their eyes, adjusting to the new environmental conditions. Neither of them said a word.

“Well, you must be hungry now. We’ve just finished our meals so we have some tasty leftovers saved up for the both of you. Also, I know you may not feel it, but it is really hot outside. Too hot. I mean, that sun. Phew! You could cook an egg in a frying pan out there just from the heat.” He laughed while bouncing the bright lights back and forth between them.

“Anyway, I’m sure you would like to enjoy some food and nice weather. That can be arranged. However, we have a strict policy here about earning your rewards. So, the captain has come up with something to not only allow you that privilege but also to help you pass the time spent here with us.” He stepped over to Ben and crouched down to study him. His beard had grown out fully, making him appear much older and very different to the man they initially picked up from their violent hospital visitation.

He reached down and pinched Ben's cheek with his forefinger and thumb. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. So thin already? Not good. We need to help fatten you up again, eh?”

With that, he placed something down on the dust-ridden floor beside him. He could hardly make out what it was but continued to remain lying down, filled with fear.

“This is a very special electronic device, my friend. You may have heard of one. It’s called an iPad? Designed by one of your proud, rich American companies. Well, I would suggest you become quite well acquainted with what it does and its functionality because trust me. This is your new best friend from today onwards.”

With that, he grabbed Ben and pushed him hard up against the wall. Ben let out a painful cough and Sheila screamed. “Shut up!” he yelled as he turned to look at her through the intense beam of his torch.

“Now” he continued as he faced Ben again, back to his calm demeanour. “This iPad can produce great colours, picture and sound. You probably already know this. Very useful for people with a lot of time on their hands.” he said with a crooked grin. “Now listen. Are you concentrating?” Ben nodded in agreement, terror contorting his face.

The P.L.A. officer pressed a button and the tablet glowed into life. Ben squinted again at the sudden burst of light. He then proceeded to flick his fingers across the screen and activate one of the applications. A cartoonish image appeared playing some light hearted music in the background.

“OK, you listening carefully?” he asked. Ben stared at him through the diminished light and could just make out this features. Stony, cold eyes met his with a chilling expression of pure ferociousness and hatred. Ben was petrified, but just barely able to speak.

“Y-Y-Yes, sir.” he stuttered.

The officer produced a broad smile in return. “Right, good. Well, me and the boys also have a lot of time on our hands and get bored too. Can you believe that? So, we sometimes play a game or two on this great piece of technology. This particular game is called “Fruit Ninja”. Very popular in your country and a lot of fun. Ever heard of it?”

Ben shook his head, uttering not a single word.

“Ah, what a shame. Never mind, you can now experience the joys and wonders of this simple yet additive little game first hand. Lucky you, eh?” he chuckled into his fist. “Now, here are the rules. Listen carefully as I will say this only once.”

“I want you to get a score of, let’s say, anything over two hundred. The highest score is recorded into the game so you don’t have to worry about it going missing or anything. I will give you exactly one hour from the moment I close that door to achieve it. This will earn both of you the right to each have a hot shower, some food and one hour of time spent outside to enjoy some of the glorious weather we’ve been having. Good deal so far, right?”

Ben looked down at the iPad and the happy, childish images dancing around in front of him. He could hear his wife sobbing quietly in the background as he tried to decipher what was going on.

The P.L.A. official leaned forward and Ben hastily met his gaze.

“I said, is it a good deal so far?”

“Yes.” Ben croaked.

“Well, unfortunately for you, this deal comes with a serious caveat. If you do not make the score I require by the time I return. Remember how long that was again?”

“One… hour.” Ben said with a trembling voice.

“Good, you’re paying attention. So, if you don’t, we will take both of you outside and execute you. A single bullet to the back of the head. Now, are we clear on the rules?”

Ben’s eyes opened wide with fright, revealing a confusing maze of small red vessels that resided within. He didn’t respond.

“Well, I take that as a yes then.” With that, he picked up the flashlight and got up.

Ben, in totally panic and fear, asked feebly. “Excuse me… sir?”

“Yes?” said the P.L.A. official glaring down at him, the intense beam suddenly shone directly onto his face.

“Wh… Why are you doing this?” Ben asked.

The officer pondered his response for a moment, then looked at him. “Fun.”

With that, he made his way back to the large metal door. Ben struggled to get up, but his knees buckled underneath him from sheer weakness. The metal door slammed shut and a deafening clang from the other side signifying it was locked.

The countdown had begun…

(To be continued...)

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Hope you enjoyed this short story, please look out for more on the way... (author: @ezzy)