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A guard stood in front of the life-sized gift box that usually carried the corpses of participants. The circle stamping his mask symbolized his role in the game, simply disposing of the bodies and carrying on to another task. He couldn’t do this to you, no. The conflicted choice boiled inside him. It was that simple: close the box, put it into the incinerator and end this, but he just couldn’t.
“It’s her, isn’t it? The pretty one.” the voice of a triangle guard, someone of higher rank, brought him back to reality.
The circle guard sighed, hands closed into a fist that soon relaxed in defeat. “Yes.”
Words traveled fast amongst the guards from the moment they set eyes on you. They brought you unconscious to the games, unaware of their curious eyes behind the mask stunned by the sight of you during the moment of changing the participants’ clothes.
“She’s so pretty…” one of them had said out loud, catching the attention of nearby guards that were unfortunate enough to get stuck with the male participants. And soon, everybody knew you.
“Player 256, eliminated.”
It happened during the marble game. You had lost all of the marble pieces to the man you played against. A pink guard shot your shoulder by accident — at least you thought he was aiming for the heart, and you ended up as an unwanted survivor. Still, they placed you inside the infamous gift box, where you didn’t dare to move. The burning pain on your shoulder made your body go numb and even you might’ve thought of yourself as dead for an entire hour at least.
You were still breathing by the time they brought the boxes to the incinerator room. No one dared opening the lid or sending you to your death.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” the triangle guard questioned under influence of his own impatience. “Take her out of there and clean her up. I’m gonna let the guards upstairs know of her condition.”
For the circle guard, it meant no one except the guards would know about it and the camera records would be adulterated. For you, on the other hand, it meant nothing as you couldn’t make much out of their words. The lid made it almost impossible to hear any sounds and your mind was releasing so many hormones to reduce pain that it made you dazed.
No wonder you had no idea how many hours it’s been since your last game. The sudden brightness of someone removing the lid caused your pupils to dilate as soon as the light reached your retinas and fear rushed through your veins. From the moment the guard was face to face with you and your eyes stared right back at him just like a deer in the headlights, he had the confirmation that you were very much alive. For some reason, instead of killing you right on the spot, the circle guard reached out for your face, caressing it with a gloved hand, and you trembled under his touch.
“We need to clean your wound, hm?” his robotic voice was… softer. “I’m gonna clean you up and get you some clothes.”
You were taken aback, the whole scenario unexpected to you. The guard proceeded to pick you up from the box, bridal style, and placed you on top of a metal surface — not that you were putting up a fight anyway. Then, he took his time removing your clothes, shoes first, pants next and the jacket came off with no difficulties. You acted more like a bystander than the main subject in the scene, and your mind wandered, only wishing it wouldn’t be so tricky and painful to remove your shirt since the wound prevented you from moving your arm too much.
A pair of scissors came in handy as soon as the shirt became the only piece of clothing on your body. You flinched as the cold metal came in contact with your skin, but in general the guard made sure it was quick and precise as to not wound you even more. There was a loud clink sound when the scissors were placed on top of a metal counter and you followed the guard’s movements with your eyes, expecting him to end your life at any instant, but he never did.
On the contrary, he took care of your wound, cooing at you whenever the cotton soaked in antiseptic burned into your skin. You are doing so well, he said multiple times. You answered with nothing, only letting the salty tears run down your face as you realized the type of situation you were in. It almost made you feel… betrayed. The guards were supposed to kill you, it made no sense in your head that one of them was tending to your wounds at that point. Would it be better if they killed you instead?
Feeling the gloved fingers slowly pulling down the straps of your bra, you reacted by instinct and firmly took a hold of the hand. The guard froze for an instant.
“I’m sorry, I have to wash your body. Do you want it to stay on?”
He received no answer from you, so he adjusted the bra strap back to its original position and left it alone for the time being.
A sound of water running down from a faucet and filling up a container echoed through the room. It was mostly silent, you guessed, when there was no one. Sometimes, you would pay attention to any other sounds to figure out your location but without success. You couldn’t hear any gunshots or screams, nothing.
The moment the cold water hit your skin, you couldn’t hold back your cries from the contrasting temperature. Goosebumps formed on your skin and the sudden shock got you on high alert. Despite your quivering and protesting sobs from being drenched, the guard seemed to enjoy the task. His fingers mindlessly wandered without a route, paying no mind to the shivers he caused. He seemed too distracted with your skin, even forgetting for a moment the reason you were stripped down to your underwear in the first place.
As the guard continued with his experimentation, he let out a breathy sigh as his fingers traveled down the chest to the abdomen, causing more goosebumps to erupt on your skin. You trembled under his feather-like touches, also freezing from the cold water that was dumped earlier on your body.
The guard’s breath underneath the mask was getting sharp and uneven, and it didn’t go unnoticed by you. His breath even hitched as he reached the hem of your underwear. Trembling ah’s was all one could hear in the room besides the low splashes from where his hand came into contact with the small puddles of water that formed on your skin.
For your sake, his fingers ignored the area and proceeded to your thighs. The moans coming out of his mouth caused something to stir up inside your empty stomach. And yet, there was nothing you could do considering your current state.
While a million thoughts of worry crossed your mind, the guard was mesmerized by the sight of you. You were so kind to allow him to touch you like this, to take care of you, that he wanted to do nothing but his best given the opportunity in his hands. He was feeling so blessed.
You snapped at his behavior, taking his wrist in a harsh but weak grasp. Mild irritation slipped from your lips as you tried to ignore the guard’s heavy breathing, “that’s enough. Please, get it over with.”
It took him a while to snap out of his trance and process your words before he decided to speak up. “I’m sorry, miss. I’ll finish this as soon as possible.”
Just as he was about to finish his ministrations, the sound of the door opening pushed you into an alert state, especially when two other guards entered the room, a triangle and a square. The first one put down his gun just beside the entrance, trusting it wouldn’t be needed for the time being as the latter seemed more focused on his own task, delivering the updates — or so you thought, but you could still feel his gaze upon you.
“We found a room for her. Finish here and get her dressed,” the superior placed down the spare batch of clean clothes on top of the counter and you recognized the pink color from your spot. “We’ll be waiting for you in the corridor.”
The square soldier stared at you for a couple seconds before deciding to leave while the triangle just leaned in against the wall and kept watching the scene. Meanwhile, the circle came back with a faded yellow towel that he used to dry you up and it was slightly rough on your skin.
Now, your entire underwear set was soaking wet and you doubted a simple towel would do the job of drying it up.
“Excuse me…” your voice was weak but the emptiness of the room ensured it was heard by the guards. “My underwear is wet–”
“Then take it off,” the triangle guard interrupted, mildly amused by the situation, but a bit rude anyway.
You sighed in defeat. Turning around to take off the dampened pair, you could feel both gazes fall upon your naked figure. As you adjusted the hot pink overall with nothing under it, you kept wondering about the nightmare you found yourself in. Thoughts of escaping tempted your instincts but there was no way an entire army of soldiers would let you walk away, especially not when they seemed that obsessed with you. It was definitely a nightmare dressed in hot pink.