PANIC ROOM

Seven

 I feel the Fallen's matted hair against my outstretched fingertips, an inhumane growl inciting my doom. The taloned hands throw my body against the wall, with an audible and painful crunch. Stunned, I try to get up. The Fallen pounces before I can escape.

The mask deepens my scream into a howl as the Fallen claws at my face, talons scratching against metal with horrible screeches. My knife lies useless, metres from my hand. Jaws snap like a rabid dog.

Flames engulf the creature's corpse-like body, burning flesh flaking away to reveal pink bones beneath. The Fallen screams, releasing me as a hand drives my knife through its skull.

Blood and brain matter splatter onto my visor, as the monster collapses onto my chest. Peter drops the bloody knife and helps me to my feet.

"You okay?" He asks as the others crowd round me like tourists at a zoo enclosure.

"Oh, I'm fucking great..." The stone floor lurches beneath my feet, as I crumple into a heap, a black curtain falling over my eyelids.

"THERE'S TOO MANY OF 'EM!"

The memory replays in my dreams, the woman's desperate screams echoing out of a speaker.

I watch, unperturbed, as the pixelated figures stumble to run away from the crowd of the Fallen. The shorter candidate, a visibly weaker, slower woman, delays her stronger team member.

The Fallen pounce upon her body, her body crushed beneath the multitude of zombies. The other candidate limps to the door, bolting the door behind her.

Candidate 101 was eliminated.

I stare at the screen, as the candidate resurfaces, her mask gone, her face bloody and malformed.

I was involved in her death somehow. I was part of PANIC ROOM.

*

Day Two has officially begun. Your official candidate position has been branded onto your left wrist whilst you were sleeping.

I wake, without my mask, a series of clumsily applied dressings anointing my face and neck. The others are rousing, some already pulling up their sleeves to see their 'position'.

"How are you both feeling?" Will kneels to examine my face and Tommy's leg. Tommy winces slightly, but nods with a grimace.

"Right, everyone! I'm officially the leader now." James says firmly, secure in his new authority.

The others are examining their own wrists, eagerness quickly followed by disappointment. Jacob sighs loudly, staring in disbelief at the thick black tattoo on his wrist.

"What did you get?" I ask, watching him carefully. He hides his wrist swiftly.

Eric's tattoo cites "010 – Saint"

"Mine says 'bait'?" Jaemin looks worried as he stares at the black ink.

"I am 'warrior'!" Johnny says smugly.

"016 – nurse... that's weird!" Kun stares at his brand, bewildered.

"What does yours say, Jacob?" I repeat, as Jacob stares at his wrist, cheeks flushed white.

"Coward."

Finn looks similarly pale, his tattoo black against his pale skin. I catch a glimpse as he hastily pulls down his sleeve.

"MURDERER"

An uneasiness sweeps over me like nausea, as I pull up my own sleeve. Disjointed memories echo in my head, as I look down at the harsh black tattoo.

"TRAITOR"