Welcome back everyone, I’m fairly sure you all know me by now. It’s been 5-6 days since I realeased 100? I don’t really know. But that’s more than enough time for me to plan the Contest. That’s right! It’s finally here. It hasn’t been that long of a journey but this random stuff I’ve shoved from my brain into writing has been here for a very long time. Not fully formed but in sparks. I hope you’ll bear with me because viewer discretion is advised. I am so ecstatic to invite you dear reader to the contest. After all it’s all about you.

[Viewer discretion is advised. This story contains themes of Insanity.]

“Look who decided to show up!” A voice screams at you through a PA system.

“Since all contestants have been brought here against their will, I think it’s time we start the show.”

“My name is The Other, and the good news is if you’ve ever wanted to be a star, here it is! I mean do you know how many people dream of being right where you are! Your a celebrity! A a megastar!!! Argggghh…No!” It cuts off abruptly and static follows.

A platform lifts you up into a sandy pit. Five other people stand near you, maybe there’s more, maybe less. The walls rise too fast.

“Welcome to Chaos. It’s the end of time after all. I! Am the MASTER! And I’m the curator of this wonderful event. If you die then..well your loss! Only one thing left to say.” The PA says again, different.

“Begin.”

Panic comes, people run, in this mad death game. How do you respond. It’s not like you have free will to think and do. I can ask but you can never respond. I am the real curator and this world has been cruel. I’m just cleaning the china. The glass. Sharp blades cutting me……

So you run. The labyrinth is huge. And all you have to do is survive.

A man comes running at you, mist surrounding him.

“What the?” He says to you. Staring in disbelief.

He sends the mist flowing at you, but it passes right through. It runs and hits a button. A massive axe blade slices you down. Killing you.

But you’re not a real contestant, you’re a ghost. There to trick players. They see you, you see them. The MASTER may have been talking about you. But all the while you were reading this, somewhere in time. Preparing for this contest. Spread between four stories….

“Five players left.” A commanding voice rings in the din.

You. Are out. And all you can do is watch. After all I never belonged here and neither did you.