I inspected the eight people. They seemed ordinary enough (and I doubted came from jail). Holographic plaques hovered over them with details like name, age, and other factors, as if medical documents at the foot of hospital beds. There were four males, four females, all in their twenties. I prodded a couple arms, said some names, but nobody stirred. Then I checked their pulse and found them stable. Since they weren’t in immediate danger, I went back to inspecting the thing on my arm.

When I tapped the screen, it lit up. The top left read “V.A.M.B.R.A.C.E”. There were a few icons on screen, but most weren’t active. In the top right was a battery symbol, and it was almost empty. The only function I could access was a journal. At the time, I didn’t think to document anything; that decision came later.

I again paced the room, but when I reached the far wall, where the people’s feet faced, the black lines reacted. I startled as they moved and manifested into the outline of a door. That kind of technology—I didn’t know how it existed. Still, it was better than staying in the same room. The door opened at my touch. I waited, eager and jittery with anticipation, only to discover…

Another white room.

Great.

I sighed and crossed the threshold. I’d made it three steps before part of the wall slid open. I hoped for another piece of armour, like each room would have one: vambrace, gauntlet, pauldron, helmet, and so on. But the opened panel revealed an empty space. Or, no, there was a circular hole around the size of my fist. I craned forward, took another step, and—

A javelin rocketed from the hole with an audible whoosh and – impaled my gut. I didn’t comprehend what happened. Not at first. Pain came a moment later. Intense. I screamed. I touched the metal haft. It had gone straight through. Blood dripped onto the whiteness underfoot. I started to topple backward, but the javelin’s tip had cracked the floor, pinning me in place. I screamed my throat ragged. Mechanical sounds came from the wall. A second later, another javelin silenced me.

#

Whiteness. Stark white light filled my vision. I shot upright with a hoarse scream. My throat felt like it’d been used as a funnel for gravel and sand and glass. I fumbled at my abdomen. No pain. No wound. No damage to my clothes. The eight people still slept nearby. A dream? No, much as I wanted to trick myself into thinking that, the pain was too real. I’d died and been revived, as with a video game. Once this idea entered my mind, excitement followed. Maybe I should’ve felt guilty about getting excited, but trapped in a game-like scenario opened wild, endless possibilities.

I considered the current room to function as a saved spot, a safe room. I called the next room, where I got killed by a javelin, room one. I noted these elements into the Vambrace’s journal function. The natural progression was to find room two, so I exited the safe room.

In room one, the wall panel slid open again. Get ready, I thought. Behind the walls, unseen gears ground together, winches turned, and a firing string pulled taut. Now! I dove to the floor. The javelin flew overhead and lodged in the wall. Still, I winced; my knees ached from dropping too fast.

Next step was to find another door. I scanned the room—

Two more panels had slid open. One on the ceiling. Other in the corner. I froze, and then flopped to the side, dodging the ceiling’s javelin, only for the other to plunge through my chest and heart. I died in seconds.

I didn’t scream and flounder in the safe room, but my breathing came in sharp bursts. The good news, I’d confirmed I was being revived. Bad news, it hurt. Good-and-bad news, I didn’t know if there was a limit to revivals. If I was hurt too badly, or too frequently, was that the end? There wasn’t a tutorial, and the Vambrace didn’t offer any sort of database. I wasn’t special. If I ran out of attempts, I didn’t expect whoever created the system to give me mercy. I wouldn’t have.

I didn’t feel like dying again, so I pushed aside the depressing thoughts and checked on the eight sleepers. None appeared to have stirred. Would they need food and water? The room was empty, aside from people and Vambraces, so we likely needed to progress further to find supplies. Was I expected to drag the eight through the javelin room, or did I need to “wake” them in some way?

I approached the nearest sleeper, a girl named Nona. She was twenty-two, wore a white summer dress with sunflower print, and had dark blonde hair. Her prominent chest rose and fell with a steady, relaxed rhythm. Looking at her, I estimated her personality was that of a gentle, sisterly type, who pursed her lips when people swore, didn’t stay up late, and preferred books to partying. Next to Nona was a guy named Heath. He was twenty-three. But back to Nona: I knelt at her side and hesitated. What’s the worst that could happen? I thought. With a final decision, I leaned down to rest my head on her chest. Then her arm twitched. I recoiled. Her mouth parted and she groaned. The others moved as well, in mixed stages of regaining consciousness.

They might wake up after a set amount of time, I figured, trying not to think about what I’d almost done.

Nona was the first upright. She clutched her head and murmured, ‘The fuck happened?’ I crept to my own waking area, to pretend I’d woken up at the same time. The others regained their senses within a couple of minutes. The usual what-where-who-why questions bounced around, and though I should’ve answered, I couldn’t bring myself to speak. The eight conscious people seemed like different entities to the eight sleepers.

A guy named Mathias stood first, and the rest of us followed. We formed a loose circle. ‘So…’ Mathias started. ‘This is…’

A girl, Ashlyn, burst into sudden laughter. A couple of the others did the same. ‘I didn’t think they’d go this far,’ she said, and wiped a tear from her eye.

‘Care to explain?’ said Otto, a stout, tanned man, and the oldest of the group at twenty-nine.

‘The Escape Adventure,’ Ashlyn replied. ‘You know, where they fake a kidnapping and you have to escape?’ She frowned. ‘You have to sign the waiver, so don’t complain.’

‘I didn’t sign a damn thing.’

Mathias crossed his arms. ‘I’ve never heard of—what’d you say? Escape Adventure?’ The rest of us concurred. Heavy silence filled the room. ‘P-Perhaps we should introduce ourselves. I’m Mathias, and I’m studying to be a chemical engineer.’

‘We don’t need a fucking icebreaker,’ Nona snapped. ‘It’s a kidnapping, not a meet-and-greet.’

‘Well, you could at least share your name.’

‘Nona,’ I muttered. My eyes widened. I hadn’t meant to speak. In a regular room, background noise would’ve hidden my mistake, but not in the safe room’s silence. The group turned to me.

‘Do I know you?’ Nona scowled.  

‘N-No. It was—your name was over your head.’

Nona glanced at the ceiling. Before she could question my slip-up further, the guy next to me, Brad—of course his name was Brad—nudged me with his elbow. ‘What’s your deal, Renaissance guy?’ He gestured at my Vambrace. Glad for the change of subject, I was about to show them the other Vambraces in the walls behind where they woke, but Brad had other intentions. ‘Why were you leering at her?’

‘At who?’

‘At whom,’ Brad corrected. ‘At her. Nona, was it? It looked like you were about to motorboat her.’ The group’s collective gaze grew harsher, and I shrunk away.

‘Do you know all our names?’ Mathias asked, to which I nodded. ‘So you were awake first, and you know our names. That’s a little…’

‘A little goddamn suspicious,’ Nona finished. The loose circle subtly morphed, subconsciously shifting them into a vague semi-circle, with me being most distant. The three other girls, Ashlyn, Chloe, and Daniella, clustered together. Mathias and Brad stood shoulder-to-shoulder, like they’d been best friends for a decade. My hands trembled; I hid them in my pockets. 

‘Regardless,’ Mathias said, ‘we might as well try and leave.’ He started toward the door. My mouth went dry. I raised a limp hand, as if to say:

‘Stop.’

The door opened. Mathias stepped through. I rushed to follow – too late. A javelin plunged through his skull. The force nearly decapitated him. Shocked silence. Bright and hot crimson on the white floor. Somebody screamed. Then more. Maybe I screamed, but I also felt numb. I retreated. The group broke into a mix of reactions, none calm.

I glanced at where he woke up, expecting Mathias’ body to materialise. A second passed. Then another. Any moment now, I thought. When he came back, It’d be easier to explain the situation. A minute elapsed. Nothing happened. I began to panic. Since we’d all woken up, did that disable the revival system? Was it, like, a real-real attempt now?

Brad seized my shirt. ‘Tell us the truth, man.’ Spittle dotted my face. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I don’t know!’

My feet and ankles felt wet. Did I piss my pants? I thought, but I hadn’t. A thin layer of water had sprouted from the black lines on the floor. It continued to rise. Brad released me. Some of the others scratched at the walls in a futile effort to escape. A couple pressed against the walls, resigned. The water reached knees, and then abdomens. I froze. The water may as well have been magma; I felt dead already.  

‘We can’t stay here,’ Brad commanded, and waded to the door. The water didn’t leave the safe room, like an invisible wall kept it hemmed in. More unusual was Mathias’ body. As in, it wasn’t there. A robot, an android, resembling a praying mantis had wrapped the corpse in web-like threads, as though a spider. This done, it wiped the blood with mechanical precision until the white shone as before. Then it carried the corpse to the wall, where a low panel slid open. The mantis-droid scuttled inside, dragging the corpse behind it. The panel slid closed. It was like Mathias hadn’t existed.

Brad slapped his head a few times, gave a guttural roar, and charged into the room. He sidestepped to dodge the first javelin. ‘Above!’ I yelled, but it hadn’t mattered. Brad rolled, dodging both ceiling and corner javelins. Three more panels slid open, but he avoided those as well. The black lines manifested into a door.

‘This way,’ Brad waved. The others followed. I panted as I jogged to keep up, trying to note in the Vambrace’s journal how to defeat the javelins. Stress-induced sweat pooled around my underarms. It smelled more acrid and revolting than a regular type. My lower half was damp, and my feet squelched in sodden socks and shoes. But, we made it.

We’d reached room three.

#

Room three was smaller than the previous two, but still cube-shaped. A panel in the exact middle of the floor slid open. I braced myself, but a medieval chest rose on a dias. Continuing the video game motif, this was a reward for getting past the javelins. Yet the group didn’t move. My guess? They didn’t think in video game logic, so they assumed it’d be another danger. ‘I’ll check,’ Brad gulped. 

‘Might be supplies,’ Otto said. ‘But don’t eat them; could be poisoned.’

Nona chimed in. ‘Could be a mimic. They show up as chests pretty often.’

They’re not going to know what a mimic is, I thought, smug, but interested how Nona knew.

‘I’ll try kicking it, see if it wakes up,’ Brad said.

Oh. Why didn’t I think of that?

Brad rounded the chest and kicked the hinge-side. When nothing happened, he heaved it open. We crowded around. The chest contained a thin dagger, a metal shield, nine bottles of water, and nine beige-coloured, rectangular blocks, like military rations. A brownish substance coated the chest’s corners, thicker than mud, like honey; must’ve been an aesthetic decision, I decided.

Brad seized the dagger and shield, and handed each person a bottle and block. Except me. I reached down, but he snatched the remaining supplies. He had a dark, serious expression, and the others didn’t look friendly, either. ‘You’re going to tell us what you know,’ he said.

‘B-But I don’t—’

Brad faced be like an interrogator. ‘Why were you awake first?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Where were you before?’ Nona asked.

‘A jail cell,’ I said without thinking. The group’s reaction was instant; their unease toward me grew. 

‘What were you in for?’

Public indecency. ‘Shoplifting.’

Ashlyn gestured at my arm. ‘What’s that thing?’

‘I think it’s called a Vambrace,’ I stammered. ‘They were in the safe room.’

Brad’s eyes narrowed. ‘You say “safe room” like it’s an obvious thing.’

‘I just meant the room was safe.’

Brad didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t continue. Nona asked why I’d used “they”, a plural, when talking about the Vambraces. I answered that there were others in the alcoves behind where everyone woke up, but they didn’t notice.

‘Why didn’t you tell us?’ Nona cracked.

‘You were all—’

‘Forget it.’ Nona finished the ration block and started toward a new door. The group followed. Before going, Brad tossed one of each supply in the chest. My Vambrace’s screen was still alight, and as I reached for the supplies it emitted a “ding-ding-ding” noise. Huh? I grasped the water bottle. The screen read:

‘Item registered: Water.’

I grasped the ration block, and the screen read:

‘Item registered: Food.’

Though unusually generic, the names made sense within a game-like framework. But what did it mean by registered? I tapped away from the journal function and found another icon was visible. It looked like a stack of manila folders. Clicking, I discovered it was an archive function. Journal and archive.

As I pulled away from the chest, my knuckles grazed the viscous substance in the corner. The Vambrace activated again, and read:

‘Material registered: Nectar.’

Say what? Nectar made me think of flowers, life, sweets, and pleasant things. The sticky substance left none of these impressions. But my confusion worsened when segmented, overlapping scales protruded from the Vambrace’s front. Like a metal tongue, it jabbed into the supposed nectar and absorbed it. Once done, the Vambrace’s battery icon increased by a tiny amount. It was powered by nectar. Whatever that was.

I didn’t have long to process this discovery, as shrieks resounded from room four.