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“Your Turn,” the Diceholder stares me in the face as she hands me the Dice. “Roll,” she says simply.
I take the Dice, cup my hands around them, and shake quickly. A knot of apprehension starts to grow in my stomach as I glance down at the brightly colored squares. They seem so out of place in the dark, melancholy, chamber. I toss the dice in the air and watch them tumble threw the air, defying gravity. The spin and spin and slowly, ever so
They hit the floor with a soft clatter, and lazily roll some more. I can just make out the number of black dots on the Dice. A seven. I’m safe, for now. I move the seven spaces forward; A blue square. A red square behind me and one in front, I was that close to Losing. I glance behind me; of the four players left, I am in the lead. We started with eight Players, now we only have four. They Lost.
The Diceholder stoops down to grab the Dice. Her long cloak fluttering in a non-existent breeze. She steps up to the next Player; she is young. She’s five, barely old enough to Play the Game. Her hands shaking, she takes the Dice from the black glove that is the Diceholder’s hand. She rolls. The dice fall to the floor, and once back to the ground they roll some more. A four. So far so good. She takes her steps forward. A orange square; I hear her sigh quietly in relief.
The Diceholder approaches, like a vulture descending on its prey, to take the dice to the next Player. I look at her retreating back, her cloak fluttering, strengthening my image of a vulture.
The other Players take their turns in what feels like an instant. Before I know it, it’s my turn again. The spotlight centers on me again. The Die fly out of my hand and I watch them turn in mid-air, over and over. They tumble lightly to the floor. A Four, I take my spaces and wait for the Diceholder to pick up the dice. But, a siren wails through the dark speakers on the walls. Everyone who plays knows that sound, someone Lost. I snap my eyes to my feet. A red square.
Two men in white come through a pair of dark doors to my right. I try to make a break for the door we entered from too my left. I almost make it, but a third man steps from the shadows and pulls me by my arm. The other men come at me, as silently as specters. They drag me towards the ominous black doors, but I fight back with all I have.
“No,” I shriek in the ears of the placid heads. “You can’t take me!” They don’t listen as they pull towards the now open doors. They push me into the dark room.
I throw myself against the closed doors and scream. Something pricks my neck and in seconds i black out
When I wake up, my whole body aches. And when I open my eyes, everything is white, and cold, even though the light above is bright. A white door opens up on the opposite side of my soft white bed. A young man in a pristine lab coat enters my cold white room.
“Who are you?” I ask him fiercely, “Where am I, and am I dead?”
He smiles faintly, but I can see a steely glint in his eye. Like this room. White is an innocent color, but this white is dark. “I’m Dr. Mordren, no you are not dead, this is simply a transitional area for those who lose, Anna”
“How do you know my name?” I manage to stammer out. He doesn't answer, but he pulls me out of bed and leads me out of the door into a white corridor. “How do you know my name?” I ask more urgently.
Dr. Mordren glances over at me, “I know everything about you.” We turn down another hall and we pass an expressionless women, I think I recognize her. But I stay silent.
He directs me over to an open room. Two of the doll-faced men stand their on either side of a cold metal operating table. The door slams shut behind me. My heart starts to beat so fast it feels as if it will burst out my chest. Dr. Mordren’s grip starts to tighten on my arm.
“You have to be Reset.” he starts his eyes glassy, “That is why you’re here, Anna, for the Operation.” He drags me over to the metal table. He throws me down onto it and fastens the straps around my limbs.
I fight back hard, but the doll-faced men hold me down so he can tighten the straps. “Why are you doing this” I yell. A women enters, pushing a cart of medical supplies.
“You Lost,” he says simply, his eyes glassy again. “And so did they.” as he says this he gestures at the women and men. With a jolt I realize that the women was my aunt, Marda. She Lost three years ago. My eyes widen in fear and realization.
Marda hands Dr. Mordren a syringe. He fills it with a bright blue liquid he place the needle on my neck. One of the men hold my head still as Dr. Mordren injects the liquid.
“When you wake up, you will be new, you will remember none of this,” Dr. Mordren says quietly. “You will only have your orders, and nothing else. Say goodbye to Anna, you are now Christy.”
My thoughts...become slower….
The last…..thing I see...is his..face….