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Seven Deadly Games

A game about 7 people with different negative characters in a different world. How will they survive? Will Zammirah be able to get out of this game? Only time could tell... Welcome to Seven Deadly Games

shallowounds · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
51 Chs

Chapter 4: Who?

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The resounding chimes of the grand clock reverberated through the opulent chamber, each echoing beat a reminder of the impending moment. "Times Up, my lovely people," the voice of the Master, an enigmatic figure shrouded in intrigue, swept through the air like a whisper, its mystique captivating all who heard it.

In the blink of an eye, I found myself transported to a majestic court, a place where power and secrecy intertwined with elegance. My companions and I stood amidst the opulent surroundings, suddenly thrust into a scenario that seemed to have materialized out of thin air. The ambiance buzzed with anticipation, as if we were players in a grand theatrical production.

A commanding voice boomed through the chamber, arresting our attention. "Who dares defile my palace with an unlawful act?" The source of the voice, unexpected yet commanding, stood before us. To my surprise, it was not a man, but a regal lady adorned in a gown that befitted a queen. The dichotomy between her appearance and the strength of her voice was a symphony of contrasts that left me momentarily breathless.

With an unanticipated hint of amusement, the queen offered a nonchalant explanation, her voice carrying the melodic lilt of someone accustomed to wielding authority. "Pardon me," she began, a wry smile gracing her lips, "I'm simply taking my pills. Yes, yes, I'm transgender—so what?" Her unabashed candor sent a ripple of laughter through our group. Demea, in her typical fashion, found herself unable to contain her mirth, punctuating the scene with her laughter. It was infectious; even Kayson, usually composed, succumbed to the hilarity of the situation, his laughter resembling the comical bray of a dying horse. Amidst the shared laughter, the queen's countenance darkened with growing irritation, her cheeks flushing crimson as her temper flared.

Yet, there was a subtle undercurrent beneath the surface, a realization that swept over me like a gust of wind. As the laughter subsided, it became apparent that the queen herself was a participant in this intricate game of unknown origins—a pawn on this enigmatic chessboard that we now found ourselves embroiled in.

In that moment, I felt the narrative of our own lives intertwining with the rich tapestry of the court's intrigue. The boundaries between reality and fiction blurred, as if we had stepped into the pages of a story where every character, every reaction, was a carefully orchestrated piece of an unfolding enigma. As the Master's voice continued to echo in the recesses of my minds, the grand drama of the court unfolded before us, an enticing narrative of power, identity, and hidden agendas that we were destined to navigate.

"Haha. Yeah, laugh it up before I ki-," she began, her words trailing off abruptly as if she had been frozen by an unexpected presence. I followed her gaze, trying to decipher the cause of her sudden shock. Her eyes were fixed on a point behind me, and in that fleeting moment, I felt a chill run down my spine. But just as quickly as her surprise had registered, the mysterious figure she had seen disappeared with the blink of an eye. It was an eerie encounter that left me questioning the boundaries of human abilities.

She sighed and cleared her throat, dispelling the eerie atmosphere that had momentarily taken hold. "Enough with this. My time is precious," she declared with a determined edge, pushing past the unsettling interruption.

A beat passed before her gaze locked onto me, her finger pointing directly at me. "You, girl," she addressed me with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "I saw you observe like an investigator. What's your verdict?"

Her voice hung in the air, laden with an unspoken challenge. The tension between us crackled like electricity as the weight of her question settled in. It was as if time itself had slowed, allowing me to consider my response carefully. I could feel the weight of her scrutiny, a test of my wit and insight.

As our eyes locked in a charged gaze, a labyrinth of questions spun in my mind, each one seeking to unravel the enigma before me. The woman's presence seemed to possess an otherworldly aura, a magnetic force that tugged at the fringes of my understanding. It was as though she held the key to a realm where secrets danced, tantalizingly close yet maddeningly out of reach. The room itself appeared to warp and contract, leaving only an intimate space for the two of us, cocooned within an embrace of intrigue.

A spectrum of reactions flickered across the faces of my team members. Kyson's expression was etched with a mixture of disdain and curiosity, while others nonchalantly carried on, unaffected by my unconventional profession. Kyson's incredulous voice cut through the charged silence, "An investigator?" His disbelief hung in the air like a challenge, a gauntlet thrown at my feet.

Unfazed, I met Kyson's gaze with an eye-roll that mirrored my exasperation. "What if I am?" I retorted, a hint of defiance lacing my words. In that moment, the curtain concealing my true identity slipped aside, baring my role as a seeker of truths.

The queen's voice sliced through the tension, her anger palpable. "Didn't you hear what I just said?!" Her voice reverberated, a sharp reminder of the urgency that had brought us to this precipice.

Summoning a reservoir of courage, I drew in a measured breath, my words unfolding like a well-crafted tapestry. "It's evident that there's more beneath the surface. Your reaction, the unspoken presence that stirred your senses, and the swift dismissal of it all... They hint at a connection to something extraordinary, something that defies the conventions of our reality."

A solitary eyebrow arched atop her regal countenance, a nearly imperceptible twitch at the corner of her lips betraying a flicker of surprise. Emboldened by this chink in her composed armor, I pressed forward, my voice gaining strength and conviction. "My venerable queen," I began, the words rolling off my tongue like a carefully orchestrated symphony-

"What do you mean?" She interjected, her gaze an unyielding lock on my own. The intensity of her stare was a force in itself, demanding clarity.

I pressed on, unearthing my findings with the delicacy of an archaeologist unveiling ancient relics. "It's as though an unseen hand guides the course of events. Yet, is it not outside the realm of our concern? We discuss Atifa, but there is an undercurrent, a current that has stirred unease in someone's depths."

Her control wavered, the dam of her patience cracking under the weight of her emotions. With a growl, she advanced toward me, her anger an electric charge in the air. The simmering storm within her was palpable, and yet, I stood my ground.

"Let's bring this an end, shall we?" Her words dripped with both venom and restraint, a blend of frustration and resignation.

In that charged moment, an unspoken bond solidified, a shared recognition of the extraordinary veiled within the mundane. The world beyond the room's walls ceased to exist; it was as if we stood at the brink of an exhilarating expedition into the heart of the unknown.

And then, as if sealing this newfound alliance, a single word escaped my lips, a whispered utterance that resonated with an almost mystical significance. "Yvette."