Empty Chains ✔️ | #ONC2019

| Chapt. Nine | Stigma |

I barely feel my body skidding across the polished marble floor. My hair catches under the weight of my arms and back, a burn forming on my skin from the pull of intense momentum.

Low screams and grunts are torn from my throat in a messy rhythm of impacts with gravity.

My eyes blur with tears, unfocused on the spinning room overhead. Dark shadows stand tall all over the room. One more than there were Reapers.

Death.

He stood for once, towering over everyone else in the room, posture strong and erect. His legs move first, slowly drifting in my general direction as I stop. In my vision, he squats down beside me.

Gloved hands gently grab my limp arms and check for injury very gently. He swipes his hand over the burns, healing everything in a matter of seconds and standing once again. "Congratulations Holiday Warren. You are the first to find your way out of the simulation."

I blink rapidly and throw myself into a sitting position.

Demetri closes the distance between us, eyes bright with concern and something more mysterious and unreadable. He hovers protectively almost, watching as each and every eye is turned away from them.

In fact, it appeared he was ordering it be done.

"I'm really the first? I manage to say, lightly running fingers over my throat. "How? I didn't see Seb anywhere and the others-"

"Holly breathe," Demetri whispers. "You know what kind of contest this is, you know what some of these people have done to get here. Not everyone is going to make it out of this alive."

I nod, ignoring the fear and concern building in my chest over Noah and David.

While my guess is that Noah has a good shot, David's idiocy will cost him dearly. I knew nothing of the color he is supposedly drawn to. He didn't either. Even with all the fighting and no matter how hard I tried, I started caring about their well being too.

It will be the death of me.

Go figure.

The others were nothing but a mystery. The only assurance I feel is in knowing Noah's inches from his own escape.

"This could take hours," Demetri adds. "We should get you rested."

The other Reapers wait, expressionless. None display anything similar to care or concern. Perhaps Demetri is bold or unique, which it is I doubt I'll ever figure out. For his open emotions, he still guards any answers close.

I can't help but wonder how he was with Seth all those years ago.

"Let me wait a bit," I say, looking at the glowing orbs we likely come from. The one I'd come from is solid white and slowly lowering itself onto the ground. Another five or so down is shattered on the floor. "Demetri, who's dead?"

"Holly, I really don't want you to worry ab-"

"Please," I beg, my eyes flashing to align with his.

The golden irises soften and he lets out an empty sigh. "Connor is dead."

"Oh," I say rather calmly. It astonishes even me to realize how little I fretted over the dumb boy. He resembled nothing but the contents of a box of rocks and asked the stupidest questions.

Demetri pulls me off the floor and walks me closer to the portals. We stop beside Atticus, whose crossed arms and scrunched up features were almost amusing. The two Reapers share a look and a nod, before Atticus sighs and runs a hand through his hair loosely.