Beguile

Chapter 7

We saw the sun rose between the leaves along the way, like a tiny peephole from a wall of enormous cage. The trees sways with the breeze still, and time like code to crack, the soil already dries but our sweats cannot.

I flinch when I miss a step, I feel the hard linen of my shoes rub against the same spot all over again. It must be bleeding by now, or was it burning- adding to the collection of lined blisters.

My feet are hurting, my legs sore, but what disturbs me most is this dead silence. I wonder what suppress their mouths from talking, was it the school's lie that lurks behind the dismembered body, or the crime of leading a classmate to her death, or maybe, because of the bewildering words from the anonymous.

The latter seems more plausible, that this is a game and we are the players.

"I see it, there!" Lisa boosts up her strides, and we followed with desperation.

The others born with strength and energy are quick to pass by Lisa, they bounce through the air as if the long depressing walk only affected me. Not only my low endurance, but also the blisters on my feet hinders my movement. But I manage to arrive in time, tried, a few blisters won't kill me.

I arrive last, and maybe the only one gasping to catch a breath. I am at the far back, behind from these huge figures but it feels different, less crowded, less stuffy. Maybe it is because they are all spread out, not even letting one touch the other, they don't talk, they don't smile, they don't stare, even most of the groups parted.

I search for mine. My group, my friends, but we are all far from each other. I fight the urge to call for them not because I am disappointed nor mad, but because I am scared. The gate in front of us speaks proof, that this is real, that the host do not hold empty words and I know, it won't be long when betrayal comes to light.

When we first arrived here, it was this same gate that greets us. Unlike the steel beams and mesh which barricaded the main campus, this one is a wall of bricks, stacks up to 15 feet and painted with nothing but the thickening weeds engorged by nature. The Hall of Perfection as they call it, where beyond the gate exist students who are eligible to pass perfection. And our class is this year's chosen.

We were overjoyed to hear the news, yet we kept our opinions intact for we are not allowed to act as if indelicate to the professors. We listen, we follow, and we act according to their standards. We were good students. And yet, what did it lead us.    

They played us.

They betrayed our trust.

The Hall of Perfection is the flaw yet the greatest art under the presence of the sunlight, but on the other side, in here without the light to shine its beauty, is just a wall with darkening weeds and molds layering on top of the other. And now, they added another ornament to trap us in this nightmare, a mesh of metal strips with sharp edges that shines through silver and electricity- a razor wire which can burn anything from touch. We do not need of any sacrifices, for an unrecognized body- burnt to its death- lays on the ground with just an arm around this mesh.

The message is clear. To survive is to play the game.

I found myself walking towards the unrecognized cadaver while the others are busy finding an exit. The background is filled with only awkward whispers, and the crunch of dead leaves as I close the gap between me and the other with smoke coming out of it's body.

A strong breeze passes and it flickers from the depth of its flesh.

It will explode, I thought but seconds pass and it did not.