Mila

Thursday, July 18th, 11:05pm.

Blood.

That's all I can see.

Tons of it.

Hell, maybe even gallons of it.

I don't need my vo-tech knowledge from shadowing nurses to know that whoever had bled this much blood obviously hadn't survived.

Two things happen in mere seconds after the door is opened and we step inside. One, most all of us scream. Two, we're suddenly shoved from behind as the door shuts and locks.

"Oh no," I hiss softly as Derrick tenses next to me.

 He lunges for the stranger in the hockey mask, his hand coming up to wrap around his throat but he's stopped as there's a loud zapping noise. Derrick stiffens before he can lay a hand on the guy, as the stranger now has a stun gun in his hand and has jabbed it firmly into Derrick's side.

He goes down with a heavy thud, his body twitching and thrashing uncontrollably as my heart pounds in my throat. I hold in a scream as I can only be sickened at the sight of Derrick in pain, the stranger turning his attention to us as he clears his throat.

"Relax, he'll be fine in a minute, this is a game, remember?" the stranger says.

None of us say a word in response to him as I mutely take in the bloody room.

A few tables caked in dust are still in here and a couple of bottles of bleach are sat on them. In the corner of the room on the floor I can barely make out a vaguely human-shaped black mass where much of the blood is pooled.

The stranger in the hockey mask walks over to it before he turns to us.

"I present to you...," he pauses to tear off a black hood with dramatic flare, "your task and your victim."

By now, Derrick has stopped thrashing and he rolls onto his stomach to brace his elbows so he's propping himself up.

"Are you kidding me?" he spits as he stares at what the stranger has unmasked.

It's a CPR dummy.

The dummy has been bound in black trash-bags, its painted-on brown eyes staring blankly back at us. Black x's have been painted over the eyes as proof that it's 'dead' in case the blood wasn't enough of an indicator.

"Your task is to dispose of the body without getting caught," the stranger says as he pulls out a set of keys and tosses them to Eli.

Elijah catches them and blinks dazedly at the stranger, his mouth dropping open to probably ask a question, but he doesn't get to.

"You need to clean up this mess and then bury the body, you have a car with supplies to use, you have until dawn," the stranger instructs us carefully.

He steps over to Derrick then as he glares up at him from where he still lies on the floor.

"Stand up," the stranger quietly tells Derrick.

Derrick grunts as he gets to his feet and steps up to my side, his hand reaching for mine.

"Stay close to me, Mila," he murmurs in a low voice that is only audible to me and I am all too happy to oblige.

"The point of this game is to prove that, even if something is inconvenient or difficult, you all know how to clean it up and dedicate time to it, along with knowing how to keep a secret," the stranger says as he motions for us to follow him to the far wall.

Half of the wall is made up of mirrored glass, like the classroom had been used for psychological experiments where people were discretely observed by others through the glass as my reflection blinks back at me. I wonder for a moment if anyone is on the other side watching us right now, as there's a door in the corner to the other side.

I look out of place next to Derrick, what with his dark ginger hair neatly combed as opposed to my coarser, brown hair that's frizzy even though it's tucked back in a ponytail.

I realize then how ridiculous I look in my pink yoga pants, as most everyone else is wearing darker, or more suitable clothes. That is, except for Danica, who is wearing a white t-shirt of all things.

She's never going to get the stains out of her clothes after tonight.

My reflection grins.

"You can leave now, or you can sign your name here and accept your challenge," the stranger tells us as we stare back out our reflections.

He passes me a black marker then as I notice that dozens of names are written here, anywhere from a small, looping font to messy scribbles. The first and last names of people who accepted their challenges. There are also dozens of black smears, like some of the names were erased.

"If you win, your name will remain here," the stranger tells us as I uncap the sharpie and step forward. "If you fail, it will be erased."

I write my name even though my hand shakes, whether or not it's from excitement or fear, I'm not entirely sure.

"Yeah-vus? Turkish?" the stranger asks when I finish my signature.

I smile into the mirror as I admire my last name written out 'Yavuz', "Yes, but it's pronounced more like 'yeah voose'," I correct him and he nods as Derrick steps up to my side and snatches the sharpie out of my hand.

"Let's keep our heads in the games," he mutters as he writes out his name.

"What's the next step?" Eli asks and I can't help but roll my eyes.

Always following Derrick's lead.

"Sign up first," the stranger warns and Eli sighs.

Once we've all signed, the stranger pulls a couple pairs of plastic gloves out of his pocket and presents them to me.

"Get this place looking spotless," he tells me. "Time's a wastin."

A blue eye from the other side of the mask winks before he walks to the door in the corner of the room and disappears through it as the door shuts and locks behind him.