I reach out my hands and feel the hard concrete ground below me. My head is to foggy and I have a bit of a headache. I try opening my eyes to a squint and lifting my head slightly. My headache immediately gets worse and I lie my head back down on the cool floor. All I saw was that I was in a dark red room with a couple of black doors in front of me. That can’t be right. My head is beginning to clear and I realize that this - this is not the place I was before. I sit up fast, which immediately invokes searing pain from my head. I press my hand against it and look around. The room is a deep, blood red and before me are two black, wooden doors. The ceiling is made of concrete and there is nothing else in the room. How did I get here? I pull my hand away from my head and see the blood on it. It is the color of the room and I put my hand back where it was. That’s bad. That is really bad. How did I get here? I remember taking a back route to get to my house and then - nothing. I force myself to stand up despite the pain. Now what?
“Welcome to my ultimatum,” booms a voice. Where is it coming from? I swing my head around trying to look for a speaker but I only managed to make the pain in my head worse. “Through those doors,” continues the voice, “is either your death or the death of another player.”
“What do you mean?” I call out to the walls. I finally spot a camera in the top, back corner. I directly address it when I say, “What do you mean my death?”
“Well it’s very simple,” responds the voice, mockingly. “If you choose the door that ends your life then you will be exposed to something that’ll kill you.”
“And if I open up the door that will kill the other person?” I respond.
“Then the other player will die,” the voice responds.
“What if I don’t choose either door,” I say. I’m not about to walk into a room that could result in my own or another’s death. No way.
“Then you’ll die of dehydration or that nasty head wound,” the voice responds in a tone that could only be described as jovial.
I turn to the doors. What awaits behind each of the doors. I have no idea what could kill me or what I could trigger to kill the other person. All I know is I have to figure out a way around this. I don’t want to die and I don’t want to be a killer. I walk to the back wall and stare at the two doors. Based upon the response the voice gave I have all the time my head will alout me. I stare down the doors for a long time. A pool of blood has begun to form next to me, I’m getting quite dehydrated, and I’m getting very hungry. How long was I out for? I think it was longer than a day because I shouldn’t be feeling the effects so fast. That means I have a lot less time then I thought. If I stay here, I’m guaranteed death but if I go through one of the doors my chance is fifty-fifty. I have to take the risk with the doors. At the rate I’m bleeding, I won’t have the strength to walk soon. I’m sorry other player. I’m certain they’d make the same choice if they were in my position.
I pull myself off the ground, already feeling the fatigue from massive blood loss. I walk over to the doors and give them a once over. They’re still identical. My right hand is preoccupied with holding my head together so I reach for the door knob of the left door. I feel a shiver up y spine as my hand shakes uncontrollably in fear. It could be my only chance. I turn the door knob and gently push the door open. It is pitch black. I can see more concrete floor directly behind the doorway but otherwise I can’t see anything. Leaning on the door frame, I walk into the room. “Shut the door behind you,” says the voice. It’s been quiet to this point but where it sounded jovial before it is pure malice now. I close the door and allow the darkness to consume me.
A light turns on behind me and I turn around. I look over and see the other door. They both lead here. I turn around to face the room and see a table before me with a knife on it. I look up a bit further and see something rabid. It has the body of a human but it is covered in blood and has clearly lost its mind. I make eye contact with it and it charges me. The rabid being wields a knife of its own and I leap for the knife on the table. I need to protect myself. I get my hands on the knife and raise it as the rabid being leaps onto the table and runs its chest directly into the knife. I make eye contact with it once more. Its eyes have gone soft and it mouths the words “Thank you.”