George POV
His heart shrank in on itself, head snapping up. "Guys, the floor!"
Six heads lowered in unison, catching sight of spiderwebs of cracks streaking rapidly over the ground. All signs of teasing smiles vanished. The atmosphere grew heavier, muscles tensing.
"Move, now." Dream seized George's wrist, breaking into a sprint. "Everyone run!"
Steps stumbled, bursting forward without an ounce of hesitation. Water droplets sprayed the air in shimming diamonds from their wet clothes. Rumbling engulfed the earth, trailing trembles up George's bones.
"LEFT OR RIGHT?" The dirty blond skidded toward the split in their path, clouds of dust kicked up beneath sneakers.
"IT DOESN'T MATTER JUST GO!" Wilbur shouted behind them.
George was yanked left, his legs burning as they raced against the very earth itself. His feet dragged with strange weight, and he pushed on faster when he realized his sneakers were sinking into crumbling dirt and stone.
He nearly stopped breathing when they rounded another corner, coming face to face with intricate twists and turns of multiple paths. This maze was about to get a whole lot more complicated.
The roaring behind them grew into an attack on their eardrums, a massive shockwave rippling over them. George's legs yanked out from beneath him, the strength of the wave slamming the group to the ground.
Dream's arms moved lightning fast to wrap his head, pulling messy brown hair to his chest. George's knees hit the ground hard, his upper half cushioned against a muscular body. George gasped into white fabric, feeling the rumble of Dream's grunt through the man's chest.
"Holy shit." Sapnap muttered. "I don't think we have the choice to go back now."
Dream's grip loosened, allowing the brunette to untangle himself from his protective embrace. Mocha flew wide, his voice shriveling in his throat.
His teammates lay exhausted around him, only inches away from nothingness. The path they'd taken entirely caved in, forcing them to continue the maze. Scattered stone shards glinted sharply around them, his fellow players rubbing their chin and shoulders from where they'd collided with the floor.
George puffed out a breath, deeply relieved he'd been spared being thrown face first into stone. He scooted away from the deadly drop, awareness of his surroundings creeping over him. Cool, brisk air clouded with settling dust, the ceiling a beautiful shade of blue. The bushes dividing the maze were very much real.
"Are we outside?" He mused.
"I don't think so." Wilbur replied. "We're probably in a room that mimics time and weather."
His teammates scanned the area around them, unable to detect any scrap of a hint as to where they were. George wordlessly agreed with Wilbur, now that he really focused he couldn't feel any breeze or breathe in any outdoorsy scent. That was, besides the dirt kicked up from the collapse burning his nose.
"We need to keep moving." Corpse murmured, pushing himself up and reaching down to help Sykunno.
"How the fuck are we supposed to figure out which one is the right path?" Sapnap approached the many branches in their current path and peered briefly down the closest ones.
"Hansel and Gretel left breadcrumbs." Tommy offered. "You know, in that story with the witch and the oven."
"Yeah, but we don't have bread." Skeppy reminded him.
"I fucking know that!" Tommy snapped back. "I meant we can leave a trail."
"Of what?" Skeppy held out his arms and genuinely studied his own attire. "We weren't given anything."
YOU ARE READING
Let the Games Begin DreamNotFound
Mystery / ThrillerWhat would you do if you were cast into a game of life or death against your will? George found himself trapped in the horrors of this question when he was kidnapped by a stranger in a mask and full body suit. He awoke with other "players" to be fo...
