I’ve been stuck in this sick game for days, maybe weeks. Always, constantly, trying to find an exit out of this terrifying world.

There were twelve of us when we first woke up in this dank hell. Now it’s just me.

Today is the day I’m going to find a way out. I can feel it in my gut – almost taste it. I’m so hungry and tired my feet are dragging beneath me. My whole body is ready to collapse. But I need to get out. I can’t give up. Not yet.

I can’t stand the mossy walls or the moldy air. It’s almost completely dark in this underground maze, except for a random flood light here and there. A pack of wild creatures prowls for its next victim. They are what took the others, if it was not suicide or insanity making them turn on one another.

I slowly take rights and lefts, mindful of my surroundings and of how loud it is each time my feet slap against the cracked stone floor. I can hear the distant growls and snorts of creatures sniffing out my scent. One howls. I know they’re coming.

I hobble faster along the stone passageways, still trying to keep quiet. Panic is slowly inching its way down my throat, trying to get me to scream, to run, to do something other than slowly stumble along still conscious of the sounds I make.

My breathing gets heavier and dizziness sets in. Soon I hear the click of long sharp claws getting closer. The moans of the miserable beasts carry down the corridors.

A fast limp is all I can manage. The swishing of their fur is now audible. They are too close; the beasts will be on top of me in a moment. I need to run. My body resists as I try to pick up the pace. Pain shoots through me. I have no energy left to burn.

I take another right, and suddenly I see a piercing bright light coming from what I assume is the exit, about a hundred feet away. I fill with joy, but it only lasts seconds as I realize there is sticky hot breath pounding down my neck. I risk a glance behind me – and my limbs go numb.

The terrifying beasts fill the corridor, large furry shoulders bumping as they try to reach the meal first. Their eyes are glazed over with hunger. At least a dozen are scrambling toward me, long claws scraping and tumbling over cracks in the stone.

The closest one snaps its slobbery jaws at me, showing its four-inch teeth. It growled as it misses. Suddenly it lurches at me, claws extended, with what looks like pure humor and predation on its face. It’s ready to gobble up the pride of catching me first. I try to run, but my frozen limbs are not quick enough.

The claws slice into my hip, cutting muscle and veins, scraping bone. I let out an ear-splitting scream and kick at the beast with newfound energy, adrenaline blocking out the pain. It releases me with a whine when I break its canine tooth. I scramble back up and try to run to the end of this horror.

The ground shakes beneath me as the monsters roar from their rage at their meal getting away. The beasts push aside the injured one and rush toward me. I trip and fall inches from the exit. My hips hit hard enough for black spots to fade my vision. The pain is unbearable.

I scream as a monster digs its razor-sharp claws into me. Escape becomes impossible as the beast’s claws rip through me. I cough up blood. His claws dig deep into my back, into my organs and lungs, breaking ribs as he presses into me and drags me backwards. I have lost. I’m going to die just feet from escape.

My victory has been stolen by the hunger of
angry monsters, by certain death. As I take my
last breath, I see my family and children pressing against guards, screaming, yelling, trying to help me. They have seen their beloved fall to this cruel, sick game.