Fear is a funny thing. It can be created from a stressful event, or someone of influence can transmit that fear into another person. I read once that it's unusual to develop a fear or phobia after the age of thirty. I guess that means our minds are still impressionable until we reach that point in our lives. Fear often tells us to run away from something; like spiders or being alone in the dark, but it can also be a good motivator; like learning to fight because of a bully or studying for fear of failure. Then there are those who confront their fears. It takes a lot of courage to stand up to something that you're afraid of and yet, sometimes you don't have the choice to run away. This was the case for me.

I used to spend my days in a routine, doing the same few things over and over. I would wake up, take care of my apartment, work, come home and play video games before falling back asleep; some days, I'd even motivate myself to work on my home-grown boxing skills. On weekends I'd hang out with friends and get pizza. But one day, everything changed. No one seemed to realize I was there. I had spent a good chunk of the day freaking out about why no one was paying attention to me, why people were nearly running into me while I walked around. Then, finally, someone did notice me. The problem was that he was trying to kill me. I nearly died, but someone else came to my rescue; Saris. Not only did he save my life, but he told me how it would be different; I was now a part of a death game.

The game's rules were rather simple. The last one alive would win the game, then it would all reset. Everyone would come back to life to do it all again, just in a different location. My hometown was the last location for the game and I had been fortunate to find allies. Saris trained me, gave me advice and told me about the game and my other allies taught me other valuable lessons; like how to deal with taking a life. I had learned to call them my friends. They had even sacrificed themselves for me. It was because of them that I had survived my first game and won. If I wanted to get back to my normal life, I would have to win another two times. No one knew for sure, but anyone who won three games stopped coming back, so everyone held out hope that it was because they got to go home.

I had won that cycle less than an hour ago and a new one had already begun. I was surrounded by trees and irritating sounds of insects as I climbed a set of wooden stairs heading for the only sign of civilization I could see; a small, brown, moss-covered house. Birds chirped high above as the wind brushed the tree limbs side to side. I was grateful for the breeze as I was already breaking a sweat.

As I climbed, I mentally reviewed my priorities, trying to remember all that I had been taught. Food and water were as important as knowing how to defend yourself. I felt fortunate to have a house so close to where I started this cycle and a grin made its way to my face. The cycle had just started and it seemed to be going well for me.

I looked down and stilled. I was wearing the same green tee-shirt, emblazoned with a golden triforce, that I had at the start of my first cycle. I had somehow reverted back to the outfit I was wearing when I came into this game. It was no longer ripped or dirty and as an added bonus, it didn't smell. It was like the game reset my clothing; which between you and me is a blessing since I had been wearing them for almost two weeks straight.

When I finally reached the top of the long staircase, I crossed the short yard to the back door. It was locked, but there was no deadbolt, so I was able to take my wallet out and slide a credit card through the crease. It took some finagling but I finally got it open. I owed my friend, Michael, for teaching me that little trick back in high school. Not that I had ever done it to break into a house before. We'd just go into our teacher's classroom to set up pranks with our other friend, Tommy.

At first, when I opened the door, I had been on guard, someone could have been in here. But if there were other people here, I would have gotten chills. That's how the game warns you when another player is nearby. Since I didn't get chills, I instantly relaxed and looked around. I was in a small kitchen. All around hung dull, green cabinetry. Anywhere that wasn't covered in the wooden storage space, held the usual appliances. Off-white tiles covered the floor, contrasting the dark countertops. Near the door I had entered by, sat a small table with two wooden chairs neatly pushed in. On the far side of the room was an opening into what looked to be a living room.

Deciding to explore before pigging out, I strolled into the next room. I had been right; it was a living room. But what I saw made me freeze. The television was on but the volume was low. Bold text beneath a news anchor read "Missing Persons, Believed to be Runaways," but that's not what pinned me in my place. Sitting comfortably around the television were two gray-haired people. They stared in shock at me, the man dropping his newspaper, as I stood staring at them in the same manner. Then the old man, who had been sitting in an equally old recliner, swiveled in his seat and shouted in a thick southern drawl, "Who the hell are you?"

"Umm," I didn't know what to say. They shouldn't be here. People that aren't part of the game become shades, faint shadows roaming around but completely unaware of those in the game. They didn't really have a physical form to us. "You shouldn't be here," I managed.

I started to freak out, much like the older couple that was trying to interrogate me. Don't tell me that the game was a dream! Was I crazy? What if the game wasn't real and I had been hallucinating this whole time? How did I even get here? I thought for much longer than I should have and the old man stood up.

"You shouldn't be here, kid. This is MY house!" His rant continued but I barely heard it, too concerned for my sanity.

In the early stages of the game, each player is given a weapon and an ability. Some people choose things like a large axe and the ability to move objects, others might choose a big sword and the ability to create and control lightning. My ability is to extend the range of my weapons and I chose my weapons based on an old video game that I knew well, Legend of Zelda.

I summoned my sword and shield, relieved that they appeared. I wasn't crazy! But this couple clearly thought I was. When my weapons appeared, the man reared back slightly and the woman screamed. Maybe summoning a sword from thin air after telling them that they shouldn't be in their own home wasn't the best introduction.

"Meg!" The old man shouted as he pulled out something from behind the chair, "get the shotgun!"

Meg leaped over the couch with impressive acrobatics for someone her age and headed for a nearby room. That's when I noticed what the man had retrieved from the chair. It was a rifle and it was being pointed straight at me. I don't know much about guns but I knew they were deadly weapons and that was enough for me to let my weapons vanish.

I held up my hands, "Sorry! I wasn't thinking and I'm gonna go now."

"Like hell you are! You sit down where I can keep an eye on you and we'll call the cops to get this sorted out." He gestured to an empty chair.

It looks like my good start for this cycle got flushed down the toilet, and my own stupidity had pulled the lever. Why hadn't I peeked in a window or two before barging in? I could have just raided their fridge and left. Instead, here I was, sitting in a cold, lumpy chair with a gun in my face, waiting for Meg to bring the shotgun and the police to arrive. Silently sighing, I mentally kicked myself. Almost anything would be better than this right now, and I had so much to do.

For one thing, I didn't know where I was. I'd love to get out of here and scout the map, or even find an actual map. I'd need to find food, water or shelter. Then, of course, I needed to find allies. There were other players in this game and few would hesitate to kill me in order to win. Waiting around didn't seem like a smart way to use my time. On the other hand, a bullet to the head really wouldn't help my situation either. If I told the old couple the truth, I'd definitely sound unstable; especially since they now knew I carried a sword in the twenty-first century.

After an awkwardly long time of debating whether or not to sit down while Meg's husband continued to yell, I came to a decision. I sat. I hadn't died in this game yet and while I've been told that I'll come back to life for the next cycle, I didn't want to test it. Meg came in holding a large, double-barrel shotgun and aimed it towards me. It didn't suit her. She looked comically small compared to the large weapon and her round glasses made her eyes appear large and owl-like, adding to the strange, almost senile look she gave me. To be fair, I gave them both a bit of a scare. But I didn't think they'd actually be here.

Saris was the one that introduced me to the game. He had told me that the normal people of the world, those not a part of the game, become shades; shadow-like forms that exist in this world but not fully. I should be able to walk through them. They shouldn't be able to see me or at least, not clearly. But these people were clear as day to me and I was the same for them.

The old man took out a cell phone and dialed a number. After a moment he said, "Frank. It's Larry. I've got a kid here who broke into my house. Meg and I have old Betsy and Gus on him so he won't run. Can you come pick him up? He's armed but it looks like he's hid'em after he brought'em out." Frank gave his reply, then Larry hung up and sat back down in his chair, pointing either Betsy or Gus at me and eyeing me cautiously. "You don't move a muscle," he commanded.

I sat there in silence, waiting for the police to arrive and wondering what I should do. On the plus side, I didn't think anyone would find me while I was being held up here or at the police station, where I assumed I would be going soon. I looked at my captors. Larry had a constant scowl, while Meg had a nervous frown. I sighed. I should've just taken some food and left, continuing to scope out the map of the game's new arena. Instead, I took the first place I saw as the ideal choice and just went in. In my first cycle, Saris had told me that he scouts an area for a while, he doesn't just go in all willy nilly. The smug feeling I had after winning my first cycle had been replaced with a feeling of dread and stupidity.

After a while, we all heard a knock on the door. Probably the same door I had entered from. Larry shouted again, telling the stranger to come in and I heard the door open and close followed by footsteps in the kitchen. Dressed in the familiar police uniform was a tall, lean man near the same age as Larry. He had a trimmed mustache and gray hair, poking out from underneath his uniform's hat. Over the left breast of his uniform was a golden star, signifying him as the sheriff.

"Frank! It's about time. This ruffian is the one I talked with you on the phone about. Get him out of here!" Larry shouted, not daring to take his eyes off me.

Frank moved his hands up and down, "Calm down, Larry. Put yer weapons down. I'm here now and I'll take him to the station. You said he has weapons? Where are they?"

"Hid'em," Larry spat, lowering his gun, but keeping it in his hand.

"Alright," Frank looked at me calmly, "Where you got'em?" He said it gently, which was comforting compared to Larry's shouts. I got the feeling that Frank didn't think I was dangerous, contrary to Larry's opinion.

I wasn't sure what the right move was. I didn't have a gun, which is what the officer probably expected to see, I had a sword and shield. And while Larry said that I hid them, it was more accurate to say that I unsummoned them. They weren't on my person. I could summon them back and give them up, but I could simply unsummon them and resummon them right back. My main concern was that if I did give them up, where would Frank think I stored them? And would he search me for more weapons like this? I thought it would be easier to feign ignorance, so instead of complying, I shook my head and frowned as if I had no idea what he was talking about.

"Don't lie!" Larry shouted, spittle flying across the room.

Frank put another hand up in Larry's direction to silence him. "What's he got? Some kind of handgun?"

"No," Larry grunted, then mumbled, "It's a sword."

"A what?"

"He's got a sword and a shield."

Frank stared at Larry for several seconds, then back at me. He looked me up and down, then looked back at Larry. "Where do you think he's hiding somethin' like that?" He didn't wait for a reply. "Forget about it. Kid, you're coming with me. Sword or no sword, you did break in. We'll head to the station to have a chat and we'll go from there."

I stood up to leave the house but Frank stopped me to pat me down, making sure I had no weapons on me. He took the only things that I had on me: my wallet, the key to my apartment and my phone. The wallet and key weren't important anymore, but the phone was my only connection to my old life. I could still contact my friends, Tommy and Michael, and my sister, Sidra. Reluctantly, I gave it to Frank without making more of a scene. Then we drove off in his car.

Frank radioed in my arrest but otherwise, the ride to the police station was silent. It felt odd being in the back of a cop car. It wasn't somewhere I had ever expected to be. A thick leather netting divided me from the driver and there were electronic items in the front, which must have been for police work. The back, where I was, was bare. There weren't even seatbelts.

The ride to the police station took about ten minutes. Frank got out of the front seat and went directly into the building. I sat in the car, waiting. He hadn't told me to wait, not that I could do anything else since the door was locked and I had no way of unlocking it. It was a police car after all. Several more minutes passed before Frank reappeared and opened my door.

The sheriff chuckled, "Forgot you were there. Didn't get too bored, I hope." I replied politely and followed him inside.

We passed the first room, which was much like a waiting room. There were chairs lined up for people to sit and there was a window being manned to answer questions or concerns. We went through the door just left of that window. This opened to an office space for the police. There were several cork boards filled with photos and papers and many people were working on computers. Frank led me into a small office and had me sit in a chair facing the desk. He took the chair behind the desk and moved his computer monitor to the side.

"So," Frank cleared his throat, "what were you doing in the Mclay's home today, Mr.-" He looked at my driver's license, "Alexander Wing." He frowned, "Long way from home, aren't you?"

This was already leading to a lot of questions that I didn't even know how I would answer. I tried to explain myself. "I didn't know they would be there." I stopped as it dawned on me that I was making this worse. Why didn't I use the car ride to think up a good excuse? Instead, the only thing going through my mind was, 'what do I do?'

"Oh. You didn't?"

"That's not what I mean," I amended. "Well, it is. But it's not. I just..." I was confusing myself. Was there a good way to word this? "I just needed a place to get my bearings."

Frank looked at me, his eyes narrowed and asked, "Are you on drugs, Mr. Wing?"

"No."

"Then why can't you seem to give me a straight answer?" He waited, but I didn't know what to say. He leaned back in his chair. "I'll be honest with you. You didn't steal anything and I highly doubt you have a sword and shield on your person like Mr. Mclay claimed. I don't think you're dangerous. But I don't like how vague you're being, and breaking and entering is not something I permit in my town. I have a good mind to keep you here for a day or two to figure out why you're here all the way from Michigan and why you're trespassing on someone else's property. So, I'll give you one chance to tell me the truth and if that's satisfactory, I might let you go with a warning. You wanna talk?"

I looked at my feet, "You wouldn't believe me."

Frank chuckled. "I've seen a lot of crazy people come in my door and tell me the strangest things as excuses for why they did whatever they did. If you tell me the truth, you have nothing to lose and everything to gain. I'll probably believe you, but even if I don't, well... it's not like it'll make things worse."

I looked up at Frank and sighed. "Okay. I was warped here because I'm part of a crazy death game and this is the new location. I'm trying to survive. I didn't think the owners would have been there because everyone disappears, other than the people who are trapped in the game. I was looking for a place with food and water and maybe a place to train so I can be better prepared against my enemies or at least have a place to go if I get hurt."

Frank eyed me, his mouth had opened halfway through my explanation and hadn't closed yet. He seemed unsure of what to say. "I think maybe we should get you some help. Come with me." I tried to protest but he cut me off and repeated his order to follow him. I got up and followed him down the hall and through a thick door. He had brought me to the cell room. He opened one of the empty cells, took off my handcuffs and locked me in once I had entered. "I'm gonna keep you here overnight. I'll make some calls to get you some help. Someone will be checking on you every few hours." Frank turned and left the room.

"Wait!" I pleaded, "Give me a chance...I can prove it!" But he had already left.

Silently, I went over my talk with Frank. I knew it looked bad. I sounded delusional. Well, maybe this is a good thing. Maybe I'd be able to avoid opponents and luck out long enough for everyone to finish each other off. That's stupid, what about food? Once they turn into shades, I won't get fed. I'll starve to death! I grabbed the cold, metal bars and rested my head in between. What had I gotten myself into?