A/N: Hi guys! I am not dead! Yay! I haven't checked my email in months, so when I did, I was amazed at the number of favorites and follows and reviews this story had! Still am! I haven't abandoned my other stories nor this one, but I was busy with life. Like Real World Adult things that can be fun, but is mostly really scary. Anyway, let's get on with Chapter 7!
"Um," I stated eloquently.
The sun burned. "Okay then... geez, I've been trapped in a dark place for seventy-two hours. Why is the sun so fucking bright?"
Hisoka cranked his neck downwards. "You just answered your own question."
I really, really wanted to retort something funny and sarcastic, but I was too worried about my personal health to do that... Haha, what a joke. "Oh no," I said in the most serious tone I could muster. "Excuse me while I recharge my brain."
His eyes crinkled.
Hopefully that was a good sign.
All twenty-four of us (I had counted) spent a minute just soaking in the sun and allowing ourselves to enjoy what we had been depraved of for quite a while before forcing our minds to clear to prepare us for the next task. The Trick Tower wasn't the worst experience, but I would definitely not add it to my list of places to visit again. Unless I became senile in my old age and decided to take a trip along memory lane.
A man with the shittiest hair cut I've ever seen stepped into our view, exiting from a hidden door from the tower. Bodyguards surrounded him, but only him and two of the suited men had the ability to utilize their nen. "Ladies and Gentlemen," a surprisingly curt voice cut clear through the air. I assumed that he would have a teenager gang slur of sorts, but I shouldn't have judged a book by its cover. Even if the book cover was a young man with a bright purple Mohawk at least a meter in height. "Congratulations on having escaped the Trick Tower."
He continued on. "Only the Fourth Phase and the Final Phase remain."
Number 294, this massive ninja dude, voiced my thoughts exactly: "Two more..."
To be fair, we were already over halfway to the finish line.
The purple haired (be a nice person Kisa, you can do it) freak jerked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing towards a faint outline of an island. "The fourth phase will take place over there, on Zevil island."
Because Zevil rhymes with devil, I immediately straightened up and pinched the insides of my arms to dispel the fatigue gradually seeping into my body.
"Now, let us proceed."
My overactive imagination started conjuring images of the twenty four of us having to swim our way to the end, and then sharks, and then electric eel, and then giant monsters that lurked in underwater caves and only came up to snap up little girls and... Okay brain, you need some sleep.
Or coffee. Infused with an energy drink.
The proctor lifted his arm and snapped dramatically. I mentally flinched, then promptly mentally slapped myself for being so skittish.
A hand rested on my head. Oh shit.
But I found myself leaning into the touch, since his hand was warm, but... Wait. Ew.
"Hisoka," I uttered with mild disgust. "Nobody here had taken a proper shower in... five days. My hair is currently in a state of abhorrent repulsiveness. Imagine what your poor hand must be feeling right now."
There had been toilets and sinks in separate rooms at the bottom waiting room of the Trick Tower, but mindlessly scrubbing hair and clothes in cold water could only do so much.
Hisoka pulled his arm back, but let the touch linger in what seemed to be more possessive and childlike than creepy. I guess I grew to understanding him as a person better after spending two days just playing card games. "'Abhorrent repulsiveness?'"
"Yes,"I retaliated. "And I'm not tall enough like you to hide the state of my personal hygiene.
He smirked, but our conversation came to a halt after a tall, brutish man (another one?!) came into the clearing outside with a cart. The cart had a mysterious box resting upon it, and I sincerely hoped that the box was harmless in and of itself.
"I will need you to draw lots," the purple haired freak declared to the crowd.
Cue the noises of confusion.
Butterflies flapped around aimlessly in my stomach. Digest them.
I swore that the proctor's eyes formed into evil little crescents as he said, "To determine who will hunt and who will be hunted." Reminded me of the person besides me. That didn't sound like a good thing.
"In here are twenty-four numbered cards." Hey, I counted correctly. I can math! "In other words, your ID numbers are on the cards. Now, I need you each to draw a card in the order by which you exited the tower."
Possible advantage?
"Will the first person come forward?"
There was a short pause in which everyone processed all the information the proctor had laid out, then the second half of the attendees looked around for the first person. Unsurprisingly, Hisoka was the first drawer. He patted my cheek before my brain mushed together coherent strings of thoughts and functions then left for fate to decide who was quite possibly the most unluckiest person in the world. The anxiety of the crowd was nearly tangible, nobody wanting their number to be in the hands of the Clown with murderous tendencies.
He brazenly strutted to the box, but something was off. He was still an eccentric person, but that was that. A person. The cut on his shoulder wasn't shallow, and Hisoka hadn't slept in a few days either. His steps were subdued, and I bit my lower lip and came to a realization. His nen wasn't at one hundred percent. He smelled off, but in a cramped, mildewy room, I couldn't sense his real health.
It's been more than two days for him since he finished, I thought. If he wasn't at a hundred percent yet, then his injury must be even more serious than I suspected.
At this point in my life, nothing was much of a shocker, so Hisoka's little cut wasn't an eye-opener. Maybe a little carelessness on his part.
When he stuck his hand into the slot on the box, I concentrated on my tongue and breathed.
The cluster of people were nothing more than distant figures as I focused solely on the taste of black licorice. It was definitely his signature, black licorice, but the taste was a little off. It held a sour undertone, resembling the salted black licorice staple from the areas south of York New. Was he in pain? My sensing had limits so I couldn't know for sure.
Unsurprisingly again, the second person was the other nen user, the one with pins in his face. I never ended up learning his name, or any kind of stage name, since no one bothered to introduce me to the resident bobble head.
After the third person went to select his card, I strolled to the front as slowly as I could without seeming suspicious.
Please no Hisoka.
I kind of wanted to live, thank you very much.
