Candles poked out from the crevices, other angles shrouding me in clouds of darkness. A single door stood poised for me to open, silver, a weaved design accented in gold across the frame. The shimmer on the door seemed to come from nowhere, the antique trim defying the darkness with its light. Odd, in my opinion, but hey, I was in a game. I maneuvered towards it, cautious, unaware of what dangers lurked inside.

I pulled my hand away from its handle and took sharp breaths in and out. It's just a game. There's no danger in playing.

My hand shook as I pressed my fingers against the cold metal door knob.

When I stepped into the next room, the door behind me slammed shut and disappeared. I took a deep breath before stepping forward. I only won The Game twice. Most of the time, it was Mara or Zolona who won The Game, but between the two of them, Mara always came out on top. Maybe it would be different with a new player on the field. I at least wouldn't come in last.

I looked at the room around me— Zolona's throne room by the familiar patterns and floorboards. It was so familiar I knew I couldn't be wrong. The colors seemed more distorted in reds and blacks-- something that never happened before— and an almost magical aura lingered in it. Claw marks scraped the walls around me that once were embedded with a zig-zag design, and even the smell of the room was surreal. Copper? Zinc? Maybe iron? Stuffiness like an attic filled the interior walls.

To my surprise, an unfamiliar silhouette sat in Zolona's throne, slender curves and features filling the seat of someone I knew as fit and ready for war. The vial took memories of the players for the experiences, but I didn't know who the hell this woman was.

On her head, a huge black crown with dark red jewels rested in perfect place. Hands cold as ice held a sword with a black hilt covered in blood. The black laced dress capturing all of her curves clashed against the ruby high heels she wore underneath. She had a scar across her cheek and her smile was tainted with blood red lipstick. Her pale, almost ice-white, face striked against her deep, dark blue eyes surrounded by the gloom of black eyeshadow. Coffee hued hair angled towards her face and she had bangs pushed to the side, slightly covering one of her eyes.

Her beauty wasn't human-- almost like a bewitching succubus or goddess Zolona told me about in stories. The beauty of this woman had a supernatural feel to it, despite her one apparent facial flaw. She looked to be in her late twenties, but the gaze she gave me was etched with a calculated and cold wisdom-- something that most people my age lacked.

The woman's eyes glared towards me, filled with a hatred I surely hoped I didn't deserve. "So, you're the girl I've been hearing so much about."

Her sophisticated pipes carried a regal tone with words naturally flowing from her maw. Though the voice was calming, something about her I didn't trust. Maybe it was the smile on her face. Maybe it was my gut.

"Who are you?" I stood there in confusion, waiting for the woman's answer.

The woman laughed and said, "You don't remember, do you?"

"What are you talking about?" my stomach churned from her words.

"Well, this is only a game, for now," the woman said.

"Is this a part of it?" I asked.

"That's up for you to decide." the woman chuckled.

No, obviously The Game is trying to trick me, but if it is, what challenge is in this room?

Wheels in my head spun.

"If you're looking for what challenge to do, it's to find your way out of this," the woman informed.

"Finally an answer I can live with."

The woman smiled. "Foolish girl, I didn't tell you what to get out of yet."

"Don't you mean out of this room?" I asked.

"You need to escape the quicksand you inconveniently stepped in," the woman said as I looked down at my feet.

My feet sunk as gravity took hold in the quicksand floor. Crap! I had to act quickly, but slowly. You sink quicker if you don't do appropriate procedures. I looked around for something sturdy to grab to pull me out. Nothing was there except the curtain on one of the windows. The ceiling raised higher with every second I waited, the floor pulling me into an abyss. The curtain had to do. I grabbed onto it and used all my upper body weight to drag my sinking legs away from danger.

I got myself out of the quicksand, turning to the throne to find the woman was gone. I looked back to the quicksand to reveal a new, black door. I smiled as I entered it.

Darkness engulfed my world, not a sound speaking against the shadows.

There has to be a switch somewhere...'

When I finally felt a lever, metal and cold to the touch, I turned it on. When the power returned, it took a while before my eyes adjusted.

Something pressed against my body, pulling warmth in and out. My hand joined with another, fingers of the opposite hand streaking through my hair. Lips pressed on mine, again and again, and I enjoyed every second of it. The rush of emptiness I always felt left my body, replaced by a feeling of rush, power, and desire. I opened my eyes, meeting the emerald beauties of another creature, human, similar to my own. The vibrant green contrasted the red I pondered and gazed at every day, the lustful reds, the inescapable bloods in my line of work, the constant toil of seeing and revealing memories of strangers. Yet, I didn't remember who this was, let alone where the hell he'd been. The slow, soft embrace of warm coursed through my blood, and it craved more than just a taste, like an addiction from long ago had been awakened, though my memory carried no recollection of who the stranger was.

"I won't leave you..." he spoke.

I broke up our embrace. "Who are you?"

"Silverlight, how could you forget?" he asked, voice filled with the same love as his embrace.

"What trickery are you pulling?"

"Even if you've forgotten, old magic can always be removed. You've found a gateway, a key to lost things magic has stolen."

"I don't know you. I can't trust you..."

I pulled a knife from my pocket. Cutting into his gut, the fierce red I normalized myself to flowed out of his veins and spilled to the floor.

Blood dripped from his mouth. "You'll understand... soon."

I closed my eyes, torn between the two worlds I saw: one of beauty and love and the other of emptiness and pain. One very much a fantasy, the other the living Hell I'd grown used to, wanted to be a part of. The sounds silenced, and the sense of warmth faded when the cold touch of another hand tapped my bare forearm: Mara.

Mara produced a crooked smile. "What? Surprised to see me?"

"I expected you to be further ahead," I said.

"Normally, yeah," Mara groaned.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I ran into one of Echo's talents. He's ruining the fun! Picking plants is boring!" Mara clenched her teeth together. "Have your challenges been the same way?"

"Yeah... what's our challenge?" I asked, attempting to change the subject.

"You're not going to like it." Mara pointed to the lyre.

I sighed. "We have to write a song."

"The first one to write a good song is the winner. There's no way either one of us is making it through this round," Mara said.

"I'm not losing a challenge."

"We're better off. Besides, the next round is the last one. The one where..." Mara began.

I interrupted her. "Let's not talk about that. How do we lose?"

"No idea," Mara said.

"How about we refuse to do it?" I asked.

"Okay, I refuse," Mara shouted.

She fell through the floor.

I didn't. That was odd. Instead, a gold door opened in front of me.

Guess since Mara refused before I did, I won the contest. Sucker... Maybe I have a chance at beating her.

I trudged forward, swallowing a lump in my throat. The gold door lingered in front of me, and I knew what was next.

I had to face my worst fear. I never liked that part. I hadn't lost a challenge, but my fear was hard enough as it was.

You're probably wondering what it was. The stranger appeared every night in my dreams. She haunted me for seventeen years of my life, or at least two, considering I forgot the other fifteen. She became a mysterious silhouette hiding beneath the black cloak. Every time I caught her gaze, a eerie feeling overwhelmed my body-- like she had a lingering resentment for me. Sometimes, I questioned what I was more afraid of: the woman, or the uncertainty of not knowing who her identity.

My hands became sweaty. My heart raced. I took in a deep breath. Even after succeeding the challenges, this fear almost killed me several times. I had no reason to be afraid, but I was. I couldn't remember her, yet she always remembered me. My breaths were shallow.

I opened the door slowly to the final challenge, my hand shaking as the door creaked open. I couldn't see anything from the mist within the door, and I shut it before going in.

You can do this. Breathe! I took another deep breath and tried to open the door again.

I entered the doorway before the door was shut behind me. I tried to open the doorknob again, but it was locked. A chill ran up my spine. I was trapped.

"Don't even try that," spoke a voice from behind me.

She was dressed in the same black cloak completely covering her face. I gulped as she reached out her hand to a weapons table, like an omen of death.

"So, what weapon are you choosing this time?" she asked, her voice haunting my every movement. It was dead, heartless even. However, it held a charm like a member of an upper class family.

"None of your concern." I clenched my teeth.

The woman ignored my comment. "Whatever you choose, you won't win."

I looked at the weapons in front of me. There was a sword, a staff, knives, a gun, a bow and arrows, a spear, and spell book.

"I'll take the knives." I grabbed them off the table.

It was a risk. Knives were limited in range, and were limited in number. I couldn't get up close to the woman without her possibly hurting me.

"I knew you would choose that. Are you ready to face your fate?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"You sound horrified!" she threw a knife at me.

I quickly dodged her attack before gasping for breath.

Remember, 635202, she has tremendous aim, is great at making you feel worse about yourself, is violent, manipulates, is fast, cunning, and she does everything to kill you. Oh, you can't forget her powers.

I took a knife and threw it at her for a counterattack.

I missed.

The hooded figure laughed. "Your aim's the same from when you fought me two years ago."

That's impossible! I didn't start playing The Game until a year ago.

"... Bullcrap!" I said with wide eyes.

She threw another knife which grazed my face. The blood traveled down to my chin and sent a droplet to the floor.

Focus! I can't listen to my emotions! It's best to keep statements like that locked up in the deepest part of my mind' I concentrated and threw another knife.

The knife would have hit her, if she didn't speed right past it. "Foolish girl. You're caught in a game you can't understand."

"No, I'm not! I've played for a year now!" I stabbed her chest with a knife.

"I wasn't talking about this one..." she smiled.

She melted into a dark pile of goo before fading away into nothing.

I'm caught in a game I can't understand...? Impossible! This woman can't know something about this game I don't.'

I sighed.

I laid my knives on the table. I would've died a gruesome, gory kind of death if I had to face that creature in real life — a creature of the unknown.

I turned to see the white door near me. I smirked as I opened it.

I woke up, fluttering my eyelids open. I wasn't surprised to see that Mara, Zolona, and Echo were waiting for me. Echo made it out before I did? Surprising. I couldn't help but wonder how that was possible. I hadn't lost!

I half expected him to be dead. Crap, I take that back. I was pretty sure facing his worst fear would leave him as a corpse on the floor. Boy, was my accusation wrong.

I squinted my eyes and yawned. "Who won?"

"Not me," Mara moaned, clenching her teeth together. Her face was red with jealousy.

"Someone beat Mara's streak?" I asked.

Zolona smiled. "Yes, someone did."

"Congratulations, Zolona." I assumed it was her. After all, I hadn't done it. There was no way I could take credit for it either.

"It wasn't me." Zolona's smile widened.

My eyebrows shot up. "What?"

If Mara was beaten out, I got last, and Zolona wasn't the one to beat Mara, it could only mean one thing.

Echo didn't just make it out before me.

That pacifist won.