Chapter One

Key of Life

Cold. It was the first feeling he felt as he gained consciousness. He found himself lying on the freezing, hard floor. For a moment, the temperature made him feel like he was naked, and then coming to his senses realized he was, feeling no clothing on his body to save him from the cold. Looking around, he tried to determine his location, but the room was pitch dark, not even the least bit of light in sight, except for a tiny red glow, the kind you would see on a camera, hanging above on a ceiling corner.

Struggling through the darkness, he felt around the room's perimeter for some kind of switch to get the light on, but like the floor, the walls were solid and cold. So many questions were running through his mind. The last thing he remembered was getting back from the Halloween party and going to bed.

He walked back to where he had awoken and felt around for anything that could possibly help him. As he was searching, a surging pain erupted from his lower arms. His hands quickly flew to his area of pain to feel something odd. Reacting to the spot above his wrist, he could've sworn it felt like he'd been sewn up.

Staring at the computer screen, Amanda watched him squirm around the room like a rat in a cage. Her face was similar to a small child before Christmas, full of excitement and anticipation. This was a special game for her. It would be the first time she would play without John being there as her teacher. This game was all hers now, and even though she loved that idea, John's presence would truly be missed.

Her real father left her on her uncle's doorstep and went off to screw some chick just to be likely to dump her kid too. John was a true father; one who cared about her and taught her everything she needed to know. He'd saved her from the life of grief, pain, and suffering and offered her immortality. Gratefully accepting his guidance, she learned many things from him, and after his tragic death, went to follow in his footsteps. One of the happiest moments she'd ever experienced was slamming the door on that bastard Matthews, leaving him to rot with her superior's previous victims.

She came to realize the man on the screen grasp his arm in pain. The drugs she'd injected him with must have just have been wearing off. Leaning closer to the machine, she began watching her sick game. Her sick game… she liked that.

"Let it begin," she said with a grim smile.

The man grunted as he stumbled around the room with his searing arms. He'd never been so confused in his life. Why was he in this room? Who put him there? Why had they chosen him? He couldn't recall having any enemies. There were people who didn't like him of course, but not enough to do this. He went around the room wondering until his feet had hit something on the floor. Immediately he dropped, feeling around for the object. His fingers felt around a small item and lifted it up. On one side, he thought he could feel something like buttons, so instinctively he pressed one. The device kicked on, revealing a soft, sexy, feminine voice.

"Hello, Dustin, I want to play a game," the voice spoke. "I can see by the cuts that are on your arms that you like to play with a razor a little too much. Do you put those pathetic, little wounds on you because you want to feel pain or do you do it perhaps you want those kids at school to give you attention. I'll find out for myself in a few moments."

"Now about those stitches you undoubtedly feel on your arms. Each set contains the key to get you out of this room. Oh and do take that literally. Since you're use to penetrating yourself, this shouldn't be a problem, but remember only one will work on the door, so don't make a mistake. You will have thirty minutes to do this or that door will lock forever, leaving you to die days later that is unless you manage to bleed to death first. Let's see how much you value your life, Dustin. Let the game begin."

He was motionless for a moment, frozen in disbelief. Was this really for real? Looking at his stitches on his arms from the wrist up, he pondered on whether he should do what the tape said. The pain he felt when he was cutting was nothing compared to what it would feel like to have his arm ripped open, two if he made a bad choice. Then he would have to find a door in a room where he could barely see his hand in front of him.

Hesitantly and fearfully, Dustin placed his palm over the patch of stitches. It stung just to touch it, making him wonder what sadistic person would make him do this. He shivered getting a grip on a stitch and pulled it. An agonizing scream filled the room, echoing off the walls. Blood flowed rapidly where the stitch once was, warning that if the others weren't removed quickly, he would soon bleed to death.

Panting heavily, he ripped out stitch after stitch, increasing the painful yells and oozing blood. His left arm was now a huge gash with a pool of blood inside. Dustin dug through his arm looking for the key like it was a specific color in a bag of Skittles. It was the most painful experience of his life, ripping through his tissue for a fucking key. Through all the redness, Dustin could see as he held his wrist to his face, a glimmer of gold caught his eye. There buried a little further in his arm was the key.

Pulling the little shinny item out of his arm had been the worst part. Its jagged edge pulled at the tissue as Dustin tore it out of his skin. By the time he'd gotten it completely out, he had fell to the floor in tears, gripping the key tight in his hand. For a moment, it was as if he'd gotten a large dose of a bad drug, due to the serious loss of blood. There wasn't much time now. Where was the door?

Feeling every inch of the wall, he searched for a keyhole. His small amount of vision he had was starting to weaken do to the tears flooding his eyes. So much was on his mind that he'd nearly forgotten about the time. Figuring how long it'd taken him to get the key, he guessed he had around fifteen minutes left, which was not enough time in his opinion.

Then he felt it! He'd found what felt like a doorknob, and where there was a doorknob, there was a keyhole. Lifting the key up, he prayed to everything holy that it was the right one. The keyhole that was positioned right under the knob was just a regular key hole, but to Dustin's eye, it was the doorway to life. If he got out, he promised himself that he would never cut himself again. He'd go into the world reborn and live life to the fullest. This key would give him a new life. Dustin prayed to every god he knew of as he stuck the key in the hole.

He twisted…nothing. He twisted again… nothing.

"No!" Dustin screamed like he never had before, kicking and pounding on the door.

Sitting at her spot by the computer, Amanda watched the helpless teenager continue to struggle with the door, laughing a little at his ignorance. How stupid could he be to realize that the key would not work? She watched as he furiously beat the door with every last bit of strength he had left before collapsing to the ground in a crying fit. She wondered if he would go for the other arm or simply give up there.

"Such poor survival instinct," Amanda sighed, leaning back in her chair.

Moving to a new tactic, she reached across the computer desk and picked up a one-way radio. She'd discussed putting speakers in the room with John earlier, a new way of taunting or pushing the players a little further, and he had seemed to like it enough. After all, it was a new game that belonged to her, so why not change it up a little.

He sat Indian style on the floor gripping his arm tightly, trying his hardest to lessen the amount of blood he was losing. His bawling filled the room, as he came closer and closer to the realization of his death. Only did the sobbing pause when he heard a screeching noise in another corner of the room; just before the same voice he had heard earlier on the recorder began talking.

"I see you're not doing too well," she spoke. "Is it so hard to realize that you're about to die and to think that when you do it may be it, no afterlife or anything like that? You'll just be a corpse in a room forever. It disgusts me how humans can just toss their life away so easily. You should've known where that key was, Dustin. Your need to survive should've led you right to it, but you chose the wrong one. Now, I'll remind you that you have eight minutes left before that door locks. I'm being too generous to give you so much time for such a simple task. It's your last chance now, Dustin. Do you love life?"

The fatal message, the mysterious woman had left only sent Dustin into even more tears. She'd truly made him realize that this was it. In such a small amount of time of eight minutes, the fight for his life would end. It was enough of a push to make him consider going for the key. Could he survive if he got it? The massive blood loss in his left arm had already made him go lightheaded, and if he lost any more blood in his right, he would surely pass out and die. There was no choice. If he didn't get that key out of his arm the outcome would be certain death.

Without warning, Dustin went for his right arm, attempting to tear away the stitches as quick as he could. The gash on his left arm was making it almost impossible to put any strength into the pulls, causing the process to move much slower than the first. Screams once again echoed through the room as Dustin tore painfully until the last stitch was off. He began to dig in once again, but being overwhelmed by the pain, pulled back. He couldn't do it. It was too much. He reached in once more, attempting to make it through this time but once again failed. He was simply in too much pain to cause himself more.

"Five." Dustin's eyes widened. "Four."

"NO!"

"Three. Two."

He tried once more to get into his arm, but was met like sticking a hand in a hornets nest. Trying to get past the pain, he buried his fingers a little deeper and could feel the metal.

"Wait!" he yelled to the voice. "I got it!"

"One."

A loud click sounded behind him, as Dustin froze, hand buried in his arm. It couldn't be! No! With one final, excruciating yell, he ripped the key out of him and headed for the keyhole. Sticking the right key in, he twisted…nothing. It suddenly grew very cold as death entered the room with Dustin, pressing its icy lips against his body. Fear and paranoia was setting in as he settled himself in a corner of a room, hugging himself.

"And you had such a good chance, kid," Amanda spoke through the radio. "I offered you life, but you turned it away just like that. You played life like it was a game, and like a game there are winners and losers. We can't all be winners in life, so Dustin I have one last thing to tell you before I leave you here. Game over."

The brunette got out of the computer chair, proud of herself for ridding another ungrateful person of this world. Checking the fridge, she grabbed a soda and headed to her balcony. The sun was beginning to set in the distance, placing a stunning shadow over the landscape.

"I did well, John," Amanda smiled. "You would've been proud, and the great thing is I'm just warming up."