Simone studies the trial words.
"The left button will save everyone whose still in the game, plus those who escaped. While the right button will kill anybody that hasn't gotten out."
"Ok, so the left one," Obbie says.
"You have five minutes," Helen announces as a small timer appears above the trial words.
Simone goes over the words. "No." She ponders. "My grandma used to say 'the devils in the details.' She was talking about cooking, but I think the details here are the words."
"Okay, so when they say immediately, that's likely literal."
"I think the left will let more people live now, but all of them will be forced to move to the next level after we make the decision. The right will kill them now, but we'll probably go back to the Safe Zone."
"Shit." Obbie signs.
"People are going to die either way," she whispers.
"Press the button on the right," Obbie decides.
"What?" She balks. Turning to face Obbie, who has yet to pull herself from the floor.
"Don't look at me like that. We don't know what the next level will be, but I do know that I can't make it through another level right now. I need time to recover."
"So we kill everyone else?"
"They're going to die in the next round, regardless!"
"You don't know that," Simone turns away from her, looking back at the buttons. "At least it would give everyone a chance."
"Would it? Or would we be throwing hungover and exhausted contestants into the fire because it feels cleaner?"
Guilt wraps around her throat, cutting her breath short. "Fine," Simone answers, turning back to Obbie. "Then get up and press it yourself." Her guilt turning to defense.
Obbie is right, she didn't want to see those missing faces knowing they're dead because she pressed the button that guaranteed those deaths. Seeing Obbie's current condition, she knows that sending her into the next level would kill her. Not just her, but everyone still breathing the toxic fumes. And what about those who lie waiting for their deaths? Would they be able to make it through whatever comes next, or would their deaths be a mercy now? The thought of this decision being determined by two people who only want to live hurts, like walking on glass with soft wet feet. She stands in the middle, knowing that regardless of which leg moves first, the pain will be unrelenting.
Obbie sighs as she attempts to stand, only to tremble and collapse.
"One minute remaining," Helen reminds.
She looks at Obbie, feeble but refusing to stay seated and rejecting death. She can't help but admire her. The strength to put yourself before anyone. The strength to live at any cost. She looks back to the buttons, the soul-darkening choice taunting her.
Which foot should I move first?
"Press the damn button, Simone! Press it," Obbie demands, her voice trembling.
Simone squeezes her eyes shut, the faces of the other contestant flash in through her mind.
"Press it!"
Hesitantly, she raises her hand and pressing the button.
The humming in the walls fades, then stops.
"Please return to the elevator," Helen responds.
"What did you do," Obbie yells. "What the fuck did you do!"
YOU ARE READING
The Price of Life - A Novella
Mystery / ThrillerSOOO we obviously didn't make the deadline lol. This story is unfinished and will remain that way. This is the best example of a rushed concept with no actual plot lol. I wrote blind and hated most of what I had written. I've redesigned this concept...
