My steps felt heavy as I approached the dimly glowing screen in the center of the dark room. My face still throbbed, and my body was close to giving out.
The digital display flickered, then began to show a series of words—rules for the next game. My heartbeat quickened. I knew nothing in this place was ever as simple as it seemed.
I scanned the screen, reading each line carefully. Maybe—just maybe—there was a loophole hidden within this wall of rules. Something I could use to survive.
1. Each player will enter the game room every 30 seconds.
2. The butchers will emerge from their chambers five minutes after the game begins.
3. There are four game rooms: the execution room, the straw warehouse, the wood warehouse, and the brick warehouse.
I tilted my head, raising a brow. “Straw, wood, bricks… why do those sound so familiar?”
A childhood tale resurfaced—The Three Little Pigs and the wolf.
4. Two remotes can be found: one in the straw warehouse, and one in the brick warehouse. Both are needed to unlock the freedom door in the wood warehouse.
5. Players must press both remotes in sequence to activate a pattern.
6. After use, each remote will enter a five-minute cooldown period.
7. Remotes will not work if removed from their original room. If both activation patterns are completed, the connecting door to the wood warehouse will close.
I muttered, “So, the remotes can only be used in their rooms, and we have to wait for cooldowns too... this just keeps getting more complicated.”
8. When the door closes, a secret passage in the execution room will open and connect to the wood warehouse.
9. A correct pattern will trigger sound cues: one beep for the first, two for the second, and so on. A wrong pattern makes no sound, and the wood warehouse door will reopen.
10. Players can rescue others from the execution room. If they’re not saved within two minutes, they’ll be executed.
11. There is one safe zone in the form of a cage. If entered, the cage will open five minutes after the game begins, and every multiple of that time thereafter.
12. Remotes will break if used from inside the cage.
I frowned. “Remotes that can break... This game is getting more and more chaotic,” I whispered, almost inaudibly.
A creeping unease crawled up my spine. “In other words… the organizers never planned to let us leave here alive.”
13. The total game time is 45 minutes from the moment the first player enters the game room.
14. Enjoy the game.
I took a deep breath, my eyes still locked on the screen. “Too many rules. Too detailed. The loopholes are getting harder to find,” I murmured.
It all felt like an extreme version of an Escape Room—patterns, door mechanisms, a ticking clock, and worst of all… butchers that would emerge within minutes.
Suddenly, the screen changed, now displaying a countdown: ??:??.
“What the hell is this…?” I hissed in frustration. Those strange symbols again. Their numbers. Couldn’t they just use normal digits?
“Unless… these symbols are the key to solving the door patterns.” I began memorizing the sequence. ? to ∩. Zero to nine, in their language.
A metallic sound echoed through the room. The door beside me slid open slowly, groaning with rusted resistance. The time now showed ??:??. The game had begun.
I stepped inside. The brick warehouse felt cold and grim. The walls were aged cement, blackened with soot, like the aftermath of a fire. The room was large, but filled with towering stacks of bricks, arranged like a maze. Narrow corridors twisted between the makeshift walls—inviting, or perhaps trapping.
In the center back of the room, against the wall, stood a massive iron cage. Solid, rusted, and menacing. Above it, a red digital clock glowed intensely, silently counting down.
Though my body still ached and my breath hadn’t fully returned, I forced myself to climb a stack of bricks that looked sturdy. Every movement strained my muscles, but from the top, I could see two doors—one to the east, sealed tight (probably the execution room), and another wide open to the west, leading to another warehouse.
“Hey! Kid! Help us find the remote, quick! Before the butchers come out!” someone shouted from below.
I turned and realized I wasn’t alone. Several others were already here, combing through the area.
“I’ll search the top area,” I replied briefly, keeping my voice as calm as I could, though my heart was still pounding.
I began crawling through the spaces between the brick stacks. Every gap seemed suspicious, and the remote we were supposed to find—who knew how big it was, or what it even looked like?
“Like finding a needle in a haystack,” I muttered under my breath.
-----
On the other side, Eve was in the wooden warehouse—quiet, filled with the scent of sawdust. She moved along the stacked wooden walls, holding her breath.
Her eyes caught something—a thin sheet pressed against the inner wall of the stack. A map.
I, Eve, slowly pulled it out. A floor plan of this game area. Covered in symbols.
Four rooms were marked with symbols, I was starting to recognize: ?, ?, ?, and ?. The symbol ? appeared larger than ?, while ? and ? looked faded. I tried to recall.
“If ? is 1, then ?, ?, and ? are 2, 3, and 4…” I whispered. I began to piece it together. Slowly, it started to make sense.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Execution room—?. Straw warehouse—?. Wooden warehouse—?. Brick warehouse—?.
The map also showed door pathways: the first door linked the execution room to the straw warehouse. The second door led from the execution room to the brick warehouse. The third connected the straw warehouse to the wooden one, and the fourth linked the brick warehouse to the wooden one.
In the center of the diagram, a faint line branched out—a hidden path, right at the intersection of the four rooms. It might only open… once two activation patterns are triggered. Just like the rules said.
Inside Room 3, towering shelves stretched nearly to the ceiling. Each rack brimmed with various types of wood—logs, long planks, and neatly stacked blocks. But it wasn’t the wood that caught my attention. It was the layout. The arrangement of the shelves… unnatural. They formed narrow, twisting corridors, like a maze within a maze—dense, claustrophobic.
The warm, dry scent of wood filled the air, accompanied by a subtle unease I couldn’t quite describe. In one corner, hidden behind the larger shelves, stood a metal cage—our so-called safe zone. Not far from it was a large iron gate, sealed tight. Above it, six unlit emergency lamps hung, like blind eyes that still watched.
I moved along the narrow passage between racks, and my gaze fell on a large frame tucked between the wood stacks. I pulled it out, wiped away the dust, and stared at the image within. Strange.
A mouse stood facing the sunrise—but the sun wasn’t a normal circle. It was shaped like a clock, frozen at half-past four.
Before I could process its meaning, a voice came from behind.
“This rack number… it’s the only one with a symbol that hasn’t faded,” said someone, eyeing a small panel on the side of the shelf.
I stepped closer, following his gaze. On the panel, the symbol still shone clearly: ?–?.
The man turned to me, his eyes drifting to the picture in my hands. “What are you holding?”
“Just a weird drawing,” I replied, showing it to him.
He examined it for a moment. “A mouse and a sun shaped like a clock?” he muttered, then gave a faint smile. “My name’s Nick, by the way. Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Eve,” I smiled back. “Nice to meet you too.”
Nick looked about my age, his hair cropped short in a neat undercut. His body was lean but trained, his tan skin marked with a few small scars along his arms—faded scratches or scrapes.
“How about we form a team?” he offered casually, though his tone was serious. “It’ll be easier if we work together to win.”
“Thanks, but… I haven’t seen my friends yet.”
“Then let me tag along when they show up. We’ll stand a better chance together. I’ve got skills that could help.” His smile carried quiet confidence.
“Alright,” I nodded. “If they show up, I’ll let you know. For now, I’m going to check that area.” I pointed toward the corridor I was about to explore.
“See you around. And don’t forget,” he added, walking away.
I glanced back—and my eyes widened. Nick was scaling one of the towering wooden racks with ease, as if gravity didn’t apply to him.
“So that’s the skill he meant?” I murmured, still stunned.
“But trusting too many people in this world… can be a fatal mistake. I’ll let him join—for now,” I added quietly to myself.
---
Meanwhile, Elio was inside the Brick Room.
I’d circled the entire space, but found nothing that looked like a “remote” as mentioned. Cold sweat began creeping down my back—until suddenly, an announcement rang out across the room.
“The Three Rooms and The Butchers—Start!!”
The mechanical hiss of doors opening silenced everyone. The doors connecting Room 1 to Room 2 and Room 4 slowly slid apart.
There was no instant chaos—just the opposite. A suffocating silence fell over us like a thick fog. As if guided by shared instinct, we began to move cautiously, crawling, creeping away from the Execution Room. Most of us made for the wooden warehouse area, as if it were the only shred of hope to escape the nightmare looming ahead.
I stopped in my tracks. My heart pounded in my chest as a heavy, echoing sound rang out—footsteps, each one thudding against the floor with unnatural weight.
I was too close. Too close to the door leading to the Execution Room. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even swallow. I held my breath, my entire body frozen.
Then another sound—bricks. Several fell, clattering across the floor. The sound came from the direction of the wooden warehouse.
I nearly screamed when something heavy leapt onto the pile of bricks under which I was hiding. Slowly, trembling, I looked up.
The figure was… terrifying.
Atop the pile of bricks stood the creature—a hulking, pig-like beast with a bloated, heavy body. A dingy white apron hung from its neck, stained with old, blackened blood. The stench of rust and damp fabric crept into my nostrils. My breath caught. My heart pounded wildly in my chest, as if it were trying to escape before I could.
Strangely, the pain in my face faded—not because it healed, but because my fear was so overwhelming, it drowned out everything else.
Then, the sound of frantic footsteps. Someone—anyone—ran from the direction where the bricks had fallen. The butcher turned, lifting his arm. Something like a whip—but thicker, metallic, and heavy—whirled through the air with deadly speed.
I stayed rooted in place, panting. My body was soaked in cold sweat. The butcher hadn’t noticed me yet… and I prayed it would stay that way.
A scream tore through the air. The whip had found its target—the one who tried to run.
“How…?” My thoughts spun. “How could he throw that far… and hit a moving target?”
The butcher yanked the whip back, now wrapped around the victim. Like a rag doll, the body soared through the air, limp and helpless. They squirmed, struggling, but it was no use. The butcher dragged them back to the Execution Room like it was nothing.
I could only watch. Helpless. My body frozen, even breathing was hard. The scream for help echoed in my mind—and I… I had done nothing.
But then, amid the paralyzing fear, something sparked—something I remembered.
A promise.
A promise to Marlo—that I would save those around me.
I took three deep breaths, trying to gather the pieces of my shattered courage. With trembling hands, I slapped my own cheek—not hard, but enough to jolt my senses. The small sting grounded me, snapped me out of the haze of fear.
Finally able to move, I crept toward the Execution Room door. Slowly, I peeked inside.
The sight turned my stomach. Two massive grinders stood at either end of the room, rumbling softly like beasts in slumber. Before them stood rows of iron cages, each barely large enough to fit a human body. They weren’t just cells—they were one-way tickets to death.
The floor… it wasn’t ordinary. I knew when time ran out, it would begin to move, dragging those cages—and their screaming contents—into the gaping metal jaws.
Inside one cage, a man was trapped. His body trembled, his eyes wild with desperation. The butcher stood only a few steps away—motionless, silent. Just watching, as if savoring the final moments.
The rule was clear. We had two minutes to save anyone trapped in there.
But how?
The butcher didn’t budge, like a predator waiting for anyone foolish enough to approach.
My hands gripped the edge of the door tightly, my heart torn. I wanted to help. I needed to do something. But there was no safe path. Even a single step would expose me.
Guilt weighed down on me like chains. Slowly, painfully, I backed away. Each step felt like wading through thick mud. I jogged toward the wooden warehouse, leaving behind the cries, the pleading gaze of someone who didn’t want to die.
My heart was torn to shreds, but I knew—I couldn’t save anyone if I became a victim too.
As I stepped into the wooden warehouse, surrounded by tall, narrow shelves, the sadness that had gripped me earlier turned into a hollow void. My breath was heavy, and the weight of failure tightened around my chest.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps approached me.
“Elio! What happened out there?”
The voice made me turn.
Eve stood there, her face tense, her breaths short and quick. Real worry filled her eyes.
“Someone was caught,” I said quietly. My voice barely left my throat. “And the butcher... he stayed there, watching. He didn’t leave until that person... died.”
Eve stared at me, visibly shaken.
“At least you made it back,” she whispered hoarsely, then her brows furrowed with concern. “But... your face—your wounds...?”
“I—” I shook my head. “It’s a long story. This isn’t the time. We need to focus. We still haven’t found the remote. If we take too long, we’ll all be trapped in here.”
Eve nodded slowly, swallowing her questions.
“Alright... but I did find some things in this room,” she said after a pause.
She began to explain what she had discovered—drawings of a rat and a sun shaped like a clock, strange symbols on the shelves, and a man named Nick who had appeared out of nowhere. Her explanation was clear and detailed, but in my head, it all sounded like fragments of a puzzle I still couldn’t piece together.
Then, a shrill scream tore through the air—followed by the deep, churning growl of the grinder coming to life.
I froze.
One person... was gone.
And we still hadn’t found the key to escape. We had to find that remote—fast.
