Chapter 7... Seven is a really big number, and it intimidates me a little bit... Is that normal? ._.

And O. M. F. G. I have 50 reviews hhhhhhh- *flails and explodes and casually may or may not dance in my own death?* Not only that, but 51, even! xD That's halfway to one hundred omfg- oAo Maybe 100 reviews is a realistic goal? I'm not exactly halfway yet. The next chapter will probably be my halfway point maybe, as I think this story will have about 16 chapters in total, but I'm not entirely sure yet…. owo"

Sorry this chapter took so long, by the way. I apologize to anybody who was looking way forward to this chapter- I honestly didn't mean for it to take this long to write! Hopefully the 10,000 word length makes up for it? ;w; I'll work on the next chapter ASAP so hopefully this type of hiatus won't happen again, sorry guys! DX

No.

No.

NO.

Not Lilli. Not Lilli, of all people. It can't be her. Lilli can't die. Not now. Not when... Not when...!

Yet, there she was; her crumpled corpse staring blankly to the hazy excuse for a sky, with her very soul draining from unmoving fingertips. Her scarlet dress flapped lifelessly around like a cobwebs clinging on, and blonde hair scattered itself around her face, a cushion draping underneath that pale skin and covering over her cheeks. The bullet had missed the heart, but its wound was evident from the seeping scarlet fluid from her neck. It did enough. You weren't a doctor, but...

Your voice cried out in desperation, begging for her to awaken, clawing for the hope that was flowing out of your being into a pit of despair.

She didn't speak.

You refused to give up though, shaking her fragile shoulders as if one blink was all it took. One flutter of those thin eyelashes, or a twitch of her body laying like a discarded doll. The beautiful, bloody, lifeless doll.

No, she didn't speak.

Lilli was gone.

You immediately froze in shock, your breaths choking through the silent air.

No.

No. No. No.

No no nonono! No!

Shuffling away from the body, you snapped your hands back to a safe position against your chest. She was dead. Gone from this world. You could be too. All it took was someone to place a barrel to your head. Mere seconds, then that single tombstone that was supposed to convey one's entire existence would erect itself. You could have been shot, but she was instead. There were three of you, and she was the one. She died. She's dead. Right here, dead. Sprawled on the pavement, dead.

She had to die, and she did so much for you.

Now you could do nothing.

You could do nothing. You had no clue as to what you were doing in here, and the knowledge that methods of escape were near impossible. 'Kill them all', that was what Yao said, right? You couldn't do that. You didn't even know anything except that the 'black' side was apparently these killing machines! Even then, most of the 'black' side looked like humans! Well, crazed humans, from your experience, but how would you know before it was too late? How would you know?

Francis.

You stumbled to your feet, tears flooding your vision as you snapped your gaze around.

Francis!

He could do something. He knew. Even if your saviour was gone, you could cling onto him. He would help you. He knew what to do and could at least lead you to some sort of salvation.

You ran. You tripped. You lurched yourself onwards. The inky surrounding blended together like a distraught merry-go-round with your already spiralling-into-depression mindset. He went this way though, you saw him go this way. You just needed to hold yourself together until you saw him. Hold in your chokes of pain and begs for mercy until you were in the safety of another's presence. Passed the memorial brick walls of this world, passed the lights that burned your skin with presence, passed the civilization of lives on the line, you could find him.

Francis! Francis!

You tried yelling for him, but the words never formed in your throat. A sobbing croaking was the only thing that echoed along the alley walls. Even your own footsteps were pounding nothingness in your ears.

Francis! Francis! Francis…!

Your knees slammed against the pavement after your injured ankle spasmed and forced your to kneel to the ground. You couldn't get up. There was nothing you could do. You would be sent to the ground every time you tried. You were a scared little child in a life you were never meant to participate in, imposed to comply to its demanding rules and heart-wrenching sacrifices. And for what? You tripped. One trip was all it took.

Lilli...

You stayed that way for a while, eventually slumping to the rough ground below. The tears drained out your emotions, leaving them out for whoever was in this cruel world to see.

Lilli was dead.

She was really gone.

You wanted to stay planted to the ground like an oak and fall asleep. You just wanted this whole thing to freeze for a moment, or your body to just be sturdy enough to stay where it was for a few hours, without harm. Home. Everything that happened after that innocent restaurant visit could just hide beneath the deep, dark nothingness above you. You needed some time to regain your thoughts and take a breather.

You knew it was impossible, and if it was possible, it would have been done a lot earlier. That didn't prevent you from praying for your own bed.

The sickening feeling stayed with you as you pushed yourself up from the ground and shuffled yourself over to a rigid surface: a corner between a dumpster and a wall. You didn't want to move, but your inner survival instincts told you to. You didn't want to be here anymore, but your mind knew that if you wanted to get out, you would have to hide from predators. Unfortunately, 'hiding' did not consist of being flopped on the ground of an open alleyway.

You stayed against that wall, breathing heavily and trying to prevent sobbing.

Lilli. Lilli. Lilli.

From somewhere far away, you could have sworn you heard a tapping. A small echo of a rhythmic throbbing, ticking along as if counting down the seconds of a clock. Tap, tap, tap, along as if your own clock was ringing in your ears to its little flat line of zero.

"Is someone there?"

There it was. A voice. Friend or foe, you couldn't tell. Not even if you saw their face would you be able to pinpoint who that was. It wasn't Francis. It wasn't Yao. The tossing begging of your stomach that was pleading for a chance to duck around another corner was interrupted by your stagnant brain explaining it was impossible. The tapping of shoes grew louder, counting down until the hectic moment where this person would take one glance at you and decide for themselves what fate you would witness before you even could.

You fumbled for your belt, wrapped inside your own pounding thoughts which were spinning and tying themselves together into disagreeing knots in your brain. Your fingers clamped onto the leather, groping around the tight containment for the holster.

Lilli.

You were alone to die like Lilli.

From behind the dumpster, the shadow of a head peeked out. You froze, your swamped gaze meeting the dark shine of eyes that were fixated on your body. You were too scared to even breathe, with your chokes for air pausing and hanging in the terror of death.

"Why, hello there."

The twitch of a smile was the only thing you could pinpoint on this figure's face, and though it petrified you to tears, it didn't appear to be murderous. It could even be considered a humoured expression, as if they found amusement in what they found here in the dead of night. You felt a shiver curl around your heart, warning you to be afraid of this person. This person wasn't safe. People weren't safe.

"What might you be doing out so late, little one?"

A male. You could tell from his figure, though his voice was questionable enough to be teetering on the boarder. He must be toying with you. You could hear the pleasure in his words, as if you were on his little fingertips, being spun around like a puppet to admire. Yao said 'they' liked to toy with people, right? Was this one of them? That smooth, calm, grinning voice that had you at its mercy?

You had given your gun to Francis.

"A female though, hmm? It is a wonder you survived this long…" he remarked, letting out a sigh and shaking his head. "A shame. I do not recognize you though. You must be one of them, yes?" Your body unintentionally twitched at the word 'them', but he continued to speak. "What country are you, might I ask?"

You didn't have the breath to answer. Your eyes stayed fixated on the person before you, your body quivering in prayer. You were so close to the edge, you could feel it. One movement, and it could all just...

A burst of quiet laughter echoed from the person in front of you, and your heart shook with the tremor of an earthquake. "Oh, heavens! Sweetheart, you look as if you have just seen the devil himself!" he exclaimed, before he hopped his body out from behind the large canister. He was a short male, not as short as Yao, but not as tall as Francis, and actually looked…healthy. His body wasn't anywhere near Lilli's fragile bones, and could actually be considered a bit thick in this situation. You could only see his silhouette, however, and nothing about the clothes upon his skin and the colour of his hair or eyes. Maybe that was a good thing. "Do not worry! I promise I am nothing but a mere baker. Now, won't you please answer my question?"

Then why was he smiling?

People were dying in here.

Good people were wasting their lives on…this.

What was this?

You couldn't help but freeze up and scoot away when the figure suddenly plopped beside you, sandwiching you into that corner you now found yourself trapped in. He didn't say anything more, and only flashed that obvious ruse of a smile to your wide eyes.

Should you answer his questions? Wait for him to speak again? You were at a loss for words until eventually, you caught yourself thinking a similar line of thought as when Yao made his appearance to you. Staying silent was dangerous. Little by little, you gained enough breath to finally declare your country's name, in a clear—yet teetering—voice.

The perky excitement on this stranger's face began to droop, until his eyebrows furrowed and he gave a cock of his head. His gaze latched itself onto you, scanning your movements carefully as if there was something else beneath you. "You are…? No, no, that cannot be right…" His voice trailed off for a moment, giving only a few seconds of silence before your chin was snatched up and forcefully tugged over to this suspicious male. You let out a gasp and tore yourself away, slipping out of smooth fingers and cowering to your little spot once again. This reaction really only made the man chuckle though. "That simply cannot be right. You look nothing like them! Now, won't you stop lying and please tell me who you are? You seem terribly unfamiliar, and I would detest killing as ally…"

So that was it. That was why there was no explicit murdering intent. Black or white, that would probably give them the answer. Or your name, but… What did what country you were from have to do with anything?

It did seem like there were many dialects and accents coursing around here and there… Maybe certain countries were choosing people and pitting them against each other? Surely such a thing would have been on the news though, and even if it were some odd secret battle, why place it here? The logic didn't make sense.

Nevertheless, you told him your name. He still appeared to be perplexed by your answer though, and continued to press for more information. "And you are…?"

Even with this vague question, you already knew the two answers he was looking for. Black or white, 'first player' or 'second player'. You could lie, but even then, it was only a matter of time before lies folded within you; especially since you knew next to nothing about everything.

The male took this silence as confusion though, and re-worded his question. "What side are you?"

You took a breath, but as confident and truthfully as you could convince yourself, you declared your answer: "None."

The grin twitched back upwards as the male's eyes—a dazzling azure colour, you could now notice, matched with deep maroon hair—sparkled with enticement. "A rebel then, are you?" he mused, chuckling lightly. "Or perhaps you are worried about giving a wrong answer?"

"I belong to neither side." As much as you wanted to declare yourself as a member of the white side, you needed to be completely uninvolved. You were cheering for the white side, hoping that the murderous monsters who killed for no reason were dealt with, but...

Lilli.

"An extra, perhaps?" To this inquiry, you hesitantly nodded. There was no other word to describe it, was there? "How interesting…"

You didn't find it interesting at all. If you were unrelated to everything, shouldn't you stay unrelated? Uninvolved with this event that appeared to be nothing but a petty battle of life, made for shallow reasons?

A pause sank through the surroundings, which both relieved you and made your bones fidget in anticipation. At least being 'interesting' meant that you didn't die upon a single answer. You weren't in the clear yet though, so when the stranger clapped his hands together and giggled into the windy silence, you jumped and pivoted your worried eyes over to him. The male eased onto his feet, giving a hop on one foot before spinning back to face you. "Would you care to go somewhere?"

Yes. Anywhere but here. Out. Home. There were so many ways to answer this, but you knew none of what you were pleading for would come with the introduction of this cheery, creepy newcomer. This offer was shallow, promising nothing of value to the ugly alleyway air. You had to deny his proposal, declaring your were alright how you were.

"You do not have to be." He leaned forward slightly, his arms knitting together behind his back. The drone of a hum slurred in the back of his throat, mixed with the joyful smile across his lips. "It is difficult being here, yes? Especially as a pawn! We must rely on each other! Develop a trust! Yes, yes, that ideal sounds rather splendid, does it not?"

You didn't even know his name, much less the side he fought for. You assumed black before, but he didn't appear to be a murderous monster… Maybe you could actually tell him the story of Lilli and he would react in some way? You weren't sure quite yet though. What you did know was that if he actually had the desire to kill you, he could have done it by now. He didn't even try. Maybe he didn't have the strength or tools needed to do something, but… If he honestly, honestly had a blazing need to murder, he could have. You were alive; for now, at least.

You wouldn't end up like Lilli. Not yet.

Yet.

"Why?" You were still extremely unwilling to go with him. Something about the way he held himself made you relate him to an actor putting on a show. A beaming actor playing a role despite the surrounding horrors. That in itself emanated a skeptical twinge in your stomach. He seemed unaffected by the fact that he was a 'mere baker' and you were a 'rebel', and he probably didn't confirm that you didn't have a weapon on you somewhere. You could have a knife, and he wasn't worried.

"Because you are an 'extra', of course!" he declared, now springing back to you and taking your hands. Before you snapped them away, he appeared to be trying to drag you to your feet. He pouted when you didn't comply with his whims, and shook his head in disappointment. "Come now! I shall offer you tea and this lovely little fairy cake recipe I enjoy using! I have something of a hideout, you know!" After a giggle he twirled around in his spot (which you found rather careless for a region where your head could get blown off within a few seconds) and flashed a wink to you. "Plus, I would love to find out what is bringing you 'extras' over… You are not the first one I have seen and heard of, but as of yet, you are the only living one I have encountered…" His perky voice appeared to dim after this, overbearing happiness softening to a more gentle grin. "If you may, I would love to question you about what brought you here… And in exchange, I can answer anything you wish! Do you have questions, sweetheart, about what is going on? How long have you been involved here?"

You wanted to say a few days. All you could really assume though was twenty-four hours though. Truthfully, all these events were so crammed into so little time that it could have only been a day. One single day, and all this...

You told him you were here recently. You took a guess of how recently you found Yao that very first day and explained the number to him.

"Honestly?" he questioned, appearing shocked. "This war has been going on for a few weeks, at least, and you only got here that soon? Heavens… For all we know from that knowledge, someone could fall into here in a few hours! In a few minutes, even!"

You didn't want to think of other people like you 'in' here, especially if you were apparently the only 'extra' this stranger saw that was still alive. It made your stomach twist to know that other innocent people—with families, friends, an entire life—could just fall into here and just...

Lilli.

A sigh interrupted your thoughts, and when you glanced up to the stranger, you found that he was already impatiently motioning for you to stand. "Come, come! I have oh so many questions to ask you, and there is not exactly unlimited time here, yes? I shall lead the way, come!"

He spoke as if a child would, his voice rushed, but bouncing and bursting with expression upon every dip and accent. He made gestures upon most of what he explained, as if playing a frantic charades game as he spoke. Although, after declaring he would lead, he hopped over to the end of the alley. You watched him bound off until the end of the hall, where a little crossroads to other unknown areas went. In the dark, you could notice his arm waving exuberantly for you to follow, then his shadow disappearing behind a wall.

Did you want to follow? Did you even want to stand? If you waited where you were, the clock would start ticking again until you ran into yet another stranger. They might not give you this option. Most importantly, you shouldn't be alone, and though that odd man sent a chilling shiver up your spine, he didn't murder you.

On the other hand, you didn't murder him either even though you might have if you still had that gun.

You scrambled to your feet, giving a cautious scan around your blurred vision. Your mind was still swimming though, and you knew attempting to restrain this stress until it exploded would make you an even larger target than you already were. Hesitant steps tapped along the stone ground, echoing to the fevered drum of your overstimulated heart. You hurried down the alley until you got to the crossroads, fearing any sort of ambush as you spiralled your eyes everywhere for hints of danger. You spent so much time gazing over the other directions, however, that when you finally did spin into the way the stranger had gone, you already found yourself face-to-face with his jovial grin. A screech was let out of your throat, though it ended up being short-lived when the man slapped his hand over your lips.

Not surprisingly, he found this reaction just as amusing as the others and a low chuckle growled from his throat. "You honestly are so very cute, love. But come, come! There is no time to waste!"

He didn't even let you reply before he whirled off again, his steps something like little jumps from foot to foot. You blinked and watched him head off, your heart now fearing of this stranger's either stupidity of the manners for a war situation, or outright cockiness of not fearing his own death. Both didn't sound promising for a description for your apparent guide.

You kept yourself behind, not daring to tread close in case the inevitable happened. Even though you wanted to keep glued to the focus of your survival, your mind still couldn't help but sink back to Lilli. After a few seconds, you would snap out of your daze and frantically do a check around your vision, as if to find a sudden jolt of terror that had pulled you away from your thoughts, only to relax when the overwhelming stench of mould and rotting meat (or flesh, maybe, possibly, but you convinced yourself that the prior was what was nearby) whirled you around the chilly winds and murky, lifeless sky. Yet, you still thought of that fragile, powerful young woman who fought so hard and ended with the mere impact of one bullet. One bullet.

"It is so quiet…" Clicking your thoughts off once again, you suddenly realized that you had actually caught up to the new male and his whisper of a voice came all too clearly. You gave a short nod, knowing he probably wouldn't see it due to being in front of you, and continued on your way. A second after this wordless answer the stranger glanced back.

"I believe," he started, holding up a hand of his, "that the reason this does not appear to be much like a war anymore is because the people who have survived this long have been hiding all this time." A beckoning finger pulled you to turn a corner with him, and after a customary giggle, he motioned up to the side, more to the sky than to the ground. "More specifically, there are a few small apartments in the middle of here, and they each must hold at least fifty rooms. Anybody who hides in there will not be found unless it is checked thoroughly; or torn down. In fact…" A dark grin crept across his face as he turned back to face where he was going. "I would bet money people are trying to tear it down right now."

You paused for a while, taking in his words for a moment before answering it. "Is that where we're going?"

"Oh, heavens no!" The answer was immediate, followed by a gasp of shock as he revolved back to meet your eyes. "Not there! See, none of these buildings are exactly…stable. They are easily considered a fire hazard, a rodent hazard, mould hazard, you name it! Plus, those apartments are like going to be incredibly difficult to escape from, if one is faced with a bad situation… No matter how strong you think you are, you need an escape route. Those buildings do not have elevators or well built stairs. If it breaks, it shall fall instantly, no warnings or anything…"

This was nice and all, but you couldn't help but feel a bit hesitant of his speech. Not about what he was speaking of, but the mere fact that he was talking. His voice, though a bit quieter than before, was still rather noisy in comparison to the still silence of air that could be filled with nothing but cautious footsteps and staggered breaths. This male was nothing close to that silence. However, there was one thing you wanted to ask related to this topic. "Do you think it's safer to be inside or outside?"

You only wanted a quick answer, and though you kept your voice to a shaky whisper, he seemed to prefer a volume twice as loud. "Well, I am more of a homebody, yes, so I love having a safe little place indoors. It is bad for your health though, definitely. Outside you have fresh air, inside you are trapped within a mouldy house. You can be caught easier outside than inside , however. Your footsteps, I mean." He waved to the ground, indicating what he was speaking about. "Although…if someone discovers you in a house, there are less exit routes… It is a tradeoff, I would say. My recommendation? Stay outside in a group where people can keep watch, but inside is better when you are alone. Do you not agree?"

You nodded, not bothering to give a verbal retort.

"We are almost there, sweetheart," he explained, springing along another corner. "Two more minutes and we shall be as snug as a bug in a rug!"

There was that clock again, leisurely ticking away time. It was a pessimistic thought, but there was always the possibility of the worst-case scenario occurring moments before you got to a door. Something could explode right now and take your sliver of hope for a path to safety away. In fact, you could get to this little safe place and still be counting down minutes to your death.

You were between two thin townhouses when the perky male shuffled to a side door, just underneath a staircase to a tiny balcony. The streetlights in front of those houses were glaringly on, though the two of you avoided the blaze entirely to get to your position through the winding back routes. At first, you assumed the lights were off inside this 'hideout' because the windows were as black and motionless as the air itself, but when your guide creaked the door open and a bright stream flitted through the crack, you realized that the windows were just painted with a messy ebony paint. The streaks along the glass was messy, but it did its job.

"Hey," you called, just as the male was slipping himself inside the opening. "I didn't get your name."

The stranger blinked for a moment, staring down at the knob that clicked open. When he finally glanced back to meet your gaze, he giggled and flashed a wink. "Arthur. Arthur Kirkland, poppet! Pleased to make your acquaintance!"

Just as he ducked behind the door, you felt a suspicious tug in your mind. Even though you didn't know much, you knew you had heard that name before.

With this little puzzle piece laying out and making you incredibly wary to near this person, you hesitated before finally taking the chilling handle in your grip. At this point, you didn't have much in terms of options. This person offered to answer questions in exchange for your knowledge of being an 'extra', so that was enough convincing to let you pop your head into the house.

It was cluttered, was what you decided from your first glance. What you had entered inside looked like a cramped closet with freezing garage tiles as a flooring. A few brooms and garbage pails were stuffed off to the side, though the various useless knickknacks that were surrounding the flooring seemed to take up the most space. Empty bottles, decorative figurines, a bonsai plant; it was all scattered on the floor in front of you. You shuffled inside, trying to avoid tripping over anything or stepping on an item that would irritate your ankle even more. The stranger was already at the next door over, you could hear from the pitter-patter of steps, and he avidly waved you inside. "Come, come! I shall make tea! I am sure I already have some fairy cakes in our fridge, and I would be more than happy to share!"

'Our' fridge? Either he was getting ahead of himself or there were another set of problems that needed to be dealt with...

You turned to gaze back to the murky streets outside, before shutting yourself into the encompass of walls. You could understand what this stranger, 'Arthur', was saying about the houses. Not only did the overbearing aroma of dust and mould attached you your nostrils, but as you glanced around, you felt as if you had more narrow escape routes and less places to run and hide, just by being enclosed by barriers. If someone kicked open the door with a rifle...

"Come in! Come, (Name), come in!" the voice called again from another area, growing a tad impatient. "We shall talk here, in the living room!"

You followed the voice, creeping deeper inside the room before entering the next. Each room was just as crowded as the next. Things were shattered left and right, things that weren't even marginally related to each other. Boxes of dishwasher detergent, discarded clothes, broken vases, books, chairs, and many other random objects lay in piles in empty corners. A hoarder's house, maybe, though there was a bit of distinct tidiness in the way some furniture matched with the wallpaper and flooring colour shades. You paced to the living room and found a couch with a few littered chairs surrounding a single coffee table, and it appeared as if the male had already set out a couple of teacups filled to the brim with some rich, unknown fluid.

"Sit! Make yourself comfortable!" he chided, going to perch upon the edge of one of the couch cushions himself. You paced inside carefully, still managing to kick a few boxes and scrape your injured heel against a stray corner of wood. "I am terribly sorry for the mess, love!" You winced in pain as he spoke, finally easing yourself onto the nearest chair. The first thing you did was bring your knee up to your chest and cling to your wound. "If it were my own abode, I assure you I would never let it get this cluttered…" After a dramatic sigh, he lay back on the couch and shrugged. "But I should leave it as is. It is supposed to look uninhabited, after all. Would you care for some bandages? You have quite a mark there… Heavens, child, watch where you step!"

He was a bit late on that call, but you nodded, lifting up the bottom hem of your trousers. It always sickened you to glance at the gash, as it was so scratched up that you could barely even tell what was the wound and what was dried blood splotches. You let your shoe and sock drop to the floor, and though you peered around, there was only a table placemat you could use as a towel. Arthur walked in with a roll just as you began dabbing at the area, wincing and tearing up at every movement.

"Allow me," the male offered, skipping over to your chair. He knelt down in front and took your toes in his grasp, as well as the placemat after he put the bandages on the ground. "Now…would you care to explain to me how you arrived here?"

He continued your work of wiping the gunk and grime, as well as the new blood that dripped free. You whimpered as certain vulnerable spots were brushed over, but he took your hints with ease. It wasn't as painful as when Lilli touched it that one time, and you did notice a few scabs growing over, but...

As he occupied himself with your ankle, you explained the same story you always did: you walked into here. You didn't want to say names, just in case something struck a wrong chord—especially since you had a sneaking suspicion of what was going on here. You told them someone had given you a gun and you had been told to fight. You wanted to stay uninvolved though, you made sure to make that clear. You just wanted to get out.

As you were speaking, Arthur continued to wipe at the gash until it was, at least mostly, clean and visible. You had been wrong about only one cut being on your body. Two large, bloody slits lay on your skin, one as thick as your thumb and the other just smaller than your pinky. The thin one was longer though, actually trailing along the top of your foot while the thicker one only wrapped itself around your ankle. Some cuts surrounding these two were healthily scabbing over, but the large wounds seemed to look just as ugly, if not uglier, then before. They even looked an unsightly yellow shade as pus drained out from them as well, but that might have just been the lighting.

Yet, the stranger listened to your story as he easily wrapped the wound, letting out replies of 'how interesting' and 'oh my' at the appropriate times. In the end, you explained that you got this wound by tripping in the woods a while ago, and this got the reaction of a laugh.

"Goodness! Such an exciting story! And you merely got this by tripping? Heavens, please watch your step, love! It would be simply dreadful if you got skewered by running into a door!" You couldn't tell if he was teasing or being serious. His warning was genuine, maybe, even though it was in his usual high-pitched tone. Though during your silence, the male swathed the bandage over your injured appearance and closed it. The pressure of this object made your foot throb, but you knew it was better than nothing. It felt numb, but...

You reached down to dress your foot again, just as the maroon-haired stranger hopped to his feet. "I shall get us something to eat! Do you like sweet things, poppet?"

The male giggled at your answer when you provided one, bounding away from you and off towards yet another door. "I love sweet things! I cannot live without them, and I assure my famous recipe shall not disappoint! You will try at least one, won't you?"

You doubted you had a choice, and the male skipped over to the doorframe. Once there, he let out a shocked gasp and turned back to face you. "Oh, yes! And please, if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask!"

He waited at the door for a minute, as if expecting a question to be asked right then and there. You had many questions swarming your brain, but the first one that left your lips to that doe-eyed smile was: "Which one are you? Which side?"

The baby-face of his cocked to the side, and azure orbs blinked in confusion. Afterwards, he bit his lip to restrain a soft chuckle. "You honestly do not know? I thought it was fairly obvious." Your heart froze in anticipation, dreading the awaited answer. You needed to know though. You hoped to god that it was 'obvious' because he wasn't killing you yet and that he was on the side you were cheering for, but… "I am on the black side, love! Or the second-player side, I have heard both travelling around the air. I enjoy calling myself the black side though, for obvious reasons."

He spoke this in such a relaxed tone that it almost lessened the horror that pulsed through your veins. He was one of them. He was in the side that killed Lilli, the side that Francis said were fighting for a mere game. Or a contest. You forgot about the exact wording, but it sounded odd nevertheless. This male though was on the side with that crazed blonde that claimed everybody would die and the trio that pried you away from Yao.

As he spun off into the other room, you couldn't help but turn your gaze around for an exit. You had already been warned that 'they' liked to toy with people… Maybe this male didn't expect you to know that much? You didn't lock that side door when you entered. You could escape from there.

'Our' fridge, he said.

You felt a shiver screech up your spine as the feeling of being watched enveloped you. You weren't safe here. You couldn't kill this man because you didn't have a gun, and even if you did, you didn't know what exactly you were facing up against.

You had to get out. You eased onto your feet, with your injury still throbbing in pain when you put weight onto it, and began began hobbling towards the general exit. You had a few seconds, didn't you? That would be enough. The objects around you were a nuisance to walk around though, and before you could duck into the next door, the hum of a certain upbeat 'second player' entered the living room.

He blinked when he saw your stance, holding a closed tray of cupcakes in his pale hands. He appeared to take no worry in your position though, and merely paced over to the coffee table in front of his couch and placed the object on top. The plastic covering was removed, revealing an array of bright pinks, greens, blues, and yellows, to the surrounding. It was like looking at tarantulas on a plate. "Leaving so soon, love? I only just brought out some snacks! Plus, you have not even touched your tea!"

Thank god for the potato you ate earlier, or these offers might have actually sounded tempting.

"I wasn't leaving," you remarked, not exactly wanting to reveal your outright fear of Arthur. You made the excuse that something caught your eye in the clutter surrounding you, and motioned to a certain pile of junk that was right beside the entrance you had been planning on fleeing into. The brightly-dressed man paused and glanced over to where you were pointing to. It was a horrible lie that didn't pass, shown by the growing smirk on the male's face as he placed himself leisurely on the seat he was before and waved for you to return. "Yes, yes. There are quite an array of interesting things over there… But surely you should sit down and relax, yes? Especially with your poor foot…" He pouted and glanced down to your quivering ankle. "You never know what may chase us out, yes? So we should relax and eat while we can!"

Where did he even get the ingredients for cupcakes? Were the houses stocked and ready with decent, unspoiled food even though the rest of the area looked like a ghost town? You doubted it. Milk and eggs would probably be bad in a place like this, though the stream of light from above exclaimed that this area did have electricity… Despite how colourful and fresh the backed goods on the table appeared to be, however, you refused to trust them.

You paced over carefully, deciding that if something completely terrible happened, you honestly did have enough dangerous and sharp objects around you that could at least provide a distraction. He didn't seem dangerous yet. You were still alive, and you promised yourself you would not play into any game he provided. He did say he would answer your questions, after all. That would be useful for a while, wouldn't it?

As you walked over, Arthur wore a sulky expression and staring at the desserts on the table, seemingly deep in thought. "I believe…" A fluttering hand danced over the colourful array and dropped down to lift a perfect little rosy bundle. "I shall take the pink one, and…" His hand returned to the table after a cupcake was placed in front of him and he picked up a bright lemon shade. "I shall give you this lovely yellow one!"

Once you got back to your seat, the object was placed on your end of the table. You stared at it for a moment, along with the tea, then glanced up to see the stranger already happily licking at the pink frosting on top, the sweet dessert cupped in his two palms.

"Is there a way to escape?" you asked, hoping that at least he knew if there was a hint to get 'out' again.

The male hummed, leaning back in his spot. "Perhaps. If you got in, there must be holes somewhere, yes?" He took a nibble of his fairy cake, letting out a content squeal slur from his throat at the taste. "But I have not heard of such a thing. I doubt it is easy to travel 'out' and 'in', most definitely, and I have assumptions as to why, but…" He glanced off to the side for a moment, then shook his thoughts away and laughed. "I have not heard of any story of escape. Then again, that could just be because anybody who does get 'out' probably does not want to return 'in', do you not agree?"

You nodded to this, your eyes gazing downwards to the little treat in front of you. The golden colour was blinding, blaring at you in the dim lights like a siren. Arthur ate one, so why shouldn't you? However, that twinge of doubt echoed through your heart.

The cupcake was fragile in your grasp as you lifted it, but not towards your lips. Instead, you placed it back on the tray where it was before, then reached for a more mellow jade shade on the collection.

"What might you be doing?" the male questioned, watching your movements skeptically. You lifted the green treat and placed it in front of you.

"Green is my favourite colour." Even if you were lying, you really just wanted to remove that blinding colour from your sight. Was there a reason why there were all different colours, you wondered, and this little experiment was a good trial. You bit your lip though, honestly not wanting to try any of the desserts anymore. If even one was poisoned...

"So you are denying a little gift, hmm?" he challenged, the little smirk growing on his face. Maybe he didn't even care which one you ate.

"I'm still eating a cupcake."

"You doubt me, perhaps?"

You stayed quiet, pursing your lips. It was already obvious you did, you didn't need to deny it to a hopeless end. Then again, he seemed to be putting his attention on which cupcake you ate, which accented your own side of the point.

"And you were attempting to escape earlier, yes? How strange…" His voice didn't stagger, and continued in a smooth, purring line as he got to his feet. You braced yourself to jump out of your chair and sprint upon a moment's notice. "I did not do anything terrible quite yet though… Which means you know something more. Tell me, sweetheart, why do you doubt me? How much do you know?"

You knew enough. Enough that this man was toying with you and questionable contents were in these treats. His smile sent shivers in your heart, and you knew that it was only a matter of time before something happened. You didn't know what was about to occur, but you weren't going to waste time just sitting around and waiting for it to present itself; not when you had the power to do otherwise.

You scooped up the teacup and hurled it at the male, immediately dashing off to the side and towards the first door you could find. It wasn't towards the exit you planned, but you could find a front door elsewhere, or a back door. Anything that would happen sooner. A yelp emanated from the man you ran from, and you spun into an empty hallway. You heard footsteps trying to catch up to you, but you didn't plan to stop as you slammed yourself towards the furthest door you could find and tore at the knob. It didn't open. You growled and shoved it again, this time making it crack, but not enough to burst.

"Amérique, grab them."

Just as you attempted one more weak push, you were roughly snatched by the hair and hoisted up. Suddenly, there was pain burning in your neck. Needles. No, nails. Crooked nails were pressed against your neck, some scraping into the skin, some coming too close for comfort.

You yelped and tried to scream until a hand stuffed into your mouth. You bit onto it, struggling for escape, but a deep voice growled into your ear. "Do you seriously think that will fuckin' save you?"

Your jaw loosened as your throat let out a pained gasp when the nails dug deeper. You had no idea what they were inside of, but it was like a plank of wood was underneath these sharp objects.

You were dragged back to the living room by your hair, then thrusted int the seat you had been in before, the nails still jabbing your neck into the back of the chair. When you finally glanced up, you saw Arthur, dripping with the 'tea' you threw at him, accompanied by two other men. The one imprisoning you with the nails was behind your seat, holding your shoulder to keep you down. You doubted moving to glare up to your captor was a bright idea with the sharpness already sinking into and marking up your skin, but you did see the other two males beside Arthur clearly.

Both of them had unruly blonde hair, as if they just gotten out of bed. One had a darker shade of an ugly yellow, bordering on browning, and didn't even look like he tried to tame the shoulder-length hair. This one also had cloths lazily slung over his body, with no shape and no form. He gazed over with a bored expression and a stubble which looked ragged upon his features. The other male at least looked as if he tried. His hair, a lighter blonde, was tugged back into an uneven ponytail (which still seemed to allow multiple strands to fling from its encompass). He wore a bright red uniform which almost looked military; if it wasn't so huge on his body. He wore dark glasses, so it was difficult to see what exactly he was thinking, but that stagnant frown revealed enough to you.

"Do not be scared, sweetheart…" Arthur flashed an innocent smile at you just as your wrists were snapped ahold of. You tried to struggle, but the grip on your arms felt like it could snap your bones. "This is merely a precaution."

You felt a rope chafing at your wrists, tying them together behind the back of the chair. You jerked, but to no avail. You were left to sit there as Arthur's gaze turned to the newcomers and raised an eyebrow. "You could have come in earlier, you lot. It was not a private party."

"Yeah," the man with a ponytail lazily responded. "Because we all can't wait to watch you bring someone to your bedroom."

"Oh hush, Matthew!" he scolded, waving his wrist in dismissal. "Surely you must know there is a time and place!"

The more rugged looking male let out a groan and rolled his eyes, leaving the scene with a murmur you couldn't hear. The challenger let out a scoff, but you couldn't tell what the person behind you reacted. Your arms seemed secure in their spot though, and now the nails (which you now noticed were hanging out of a baseball bat, interestingly enough) tapped on the armrest of your chair instead of pinning you back. A heavy exhale passed your lips as the others continued talking. "Oui. I know, but you don't. Offering someone tea and cupcakes and offering to tend to people's wounds sounds too much like you."

The maroon-haired male let out a dramatic sigh and shook his head in disappointment. He looked as if he was about to speak up, but a low rumble of a voice came from behind you.

"Which cupcakes did you put the fuckin' aphrodisiacs in?" When Arthur only gave an awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his neck, the voice let out a groan. The person with the shades already seemed to be rubbing his temples. "Fuckin' slut."

"Why'd you even bring them anyway?" The ponytailed male asked, flopping like a sloth onto the couch. Arthur followed soon after, though he perched on the edge and placed his hands into his lap; when he wasn't eagerly motioning things, that was.

"They are an extra!"

"No, I got that…" he replied with a growl. Apparently since you decided not to give a terrible fight to the death and were trapped in a protected containment, the male behind you paced himself over to a chair beside you. He was a dark-skinned male, with a jacket covering himself. He had messy chestnut hair, but unlike the other two strangers, it appeared to be relatively organized. His clothes seemed to fit appropriately too, though they were immensely casual compared to the bright cloths along Arthur's figure. "What I don't get is why they're here. We're not responsible for lost souls. Leave them be."

"We sort of are, are we not?" Your lead here spoke up, giving a thoughtful hum as he picked up his teacup again. "We did create this place, after all…"

You reacted to this, snapping your gaze over to the one who spoke. "You created this place?" you finally burst out, choosing that moment to bring attention to yourself again. All eyes fell on you, but… They didn't murder you yet. You didn't need to give them a reason to, but… "How?"

Three sets of eyes blinked at you, though two merely seemed dismiss your intrusion with dull expression. Arthur, however, loyally answered your whim, a dark smirk floating up to his lips. "You honestly wish to know, love?"

You made it this far, didn't you? Of course. You had enough asking the same questions in endless confusion.

"Would you eat my little yellow fairy cake in exchange?"

Your face paled and you felt a twinge in your stomach. No way. You didn't trust any of those. The male already had a strange reaction to you choosing a different colour, and the dark-skinned one accused drugs inside them and wasn't denied. You didn't even touch the 'tea'.

"What about…the white one, then? That was not either of our choices, yes?"

You thought about it, but you refused to just take luck. Not if you could help it, anyway. "What's in it?"

"Drugs," he replied with a simple shrug, his voice unfaltering from that perky tone. "It is honestly nothing that shall kill you though, I assure you. Not in the white one, anyway."

Considering this was an option, but you didn't like the idea of trusting his word, nor agreeing to a contract that gave you the short end of the stick. "What will you do if I eat it?"

"I shall answer all your questions. We have time, yes?"

You pursed your lips, glancing from Arthur's eyes over to the other two in the room. The scruffy blonde scoffed when you looked his way, then turned off somewhere else. It was obvious he wanted nothing to do with this conversation, and wasn't about to make a move to aid either side. When your eyes fell upon the dark-skinned one, it seemed as if he had already distancing himself enough from the conversation that he had picked up a book from the rubble and began reading it. He didn't even look at you.

"Can I have a free question?"

The maroon-haired male raised an eyebrow, but also his grin seemed to perk up with it. "Interesting offer… Depends," he replied easily, his azure gaze now trained on you.

"I want to ask about your name."

The only person who reacted was Arthur, and he appeared genuinely shocked. A blink came from him, before he burst out laughing. "I told you my name, love! Goodness, have you forgotten already?"

You paused, pondering if your judgement was wrong. He looked like that dead body you saw with Lilli that had burned into your eyes. Even though there were differences like the hair and clothes, it still resembled the picture in the locket. A twisted mirror. Opposites, but not really. But if Lilli said that was Arthur, and Francis said that his 'opposite' was someone odd named… "Is your name Oliver?"

The room froze in time, and even though your conversation partner's smile didn't fade, just having the other two men stop what they were doing just to look at you made a lump formate in your esophagus. You tensed up, but didn't even have time to react before that bat that was left on the coffee table was swiped up.

"Where the fuck did you hear that name?" the blonde hissed, pushing the nails back up to your face. The jam towards you was so forceful that even flinching away couldn't prevent a few extra gashes from ripping your cheek. You yelped in pain, struggling your arms to get them free and push the dangerous stick away.

The object was suddenly pulled away from you a second later, and looking up, you noticed the man in pink with a hand on the gruff blonde's shoulder. He seemed to begrudgingly back off, but shrugged off his companion's hand and didn't drop the weapon. The brunette beside you didn't react, and merely glared at the person who borrowed his bat.

'Arthur' clapped his hands together and let out a shaky laugh, just as the one who attacked you flopped back onto the couch. Cerulean eyes turned to you after this, and an innocent smile flashed towards your gaze. "Yes! Yes, yes… You figured it out. My name is Oliver; however did you know? And the two people surrounding me are Matt and Allen. It is a pleasure to meet you!"

He waved over to which person was which, the blonde being Matt and the brunette being Allen. 'Matt' let out a growl as he was spoken about, while 'Allen' just appeared confused.

"Engla—" he started to say something, but stopped abruptly.

As odd as these reactions were, you didn't know how to fit them into your puzzle. It was just a name, right? Different names for similar-looking people?

You could think of clones fighting each other; 'first-player' and 'second-player' maybe making an odd reference to this? That seemed like a bizarre hypothesis in itself, but without many leads, you could question this.

That still didn't explain 'in' here though. Maybe this was a more hollow victory than you thought.

"Alright… Where are we, Oliver?" You might as well ask more questioned, but your little guide remembered the detail about your questions that you seemed to forget. He motioned to Allen, while Matt seemed to go back to laying leisurely in his seat and glaring at you. The dark-skinned male scowled, but reached over and lifted a dove white cake from the tray. He held it away from him as if it were a dirty diaper up to your lips, which didn't exactly convince you into trying it.

"Enjoy, sweetheart!"

You hesitated, your eyes flitting around and searching for an out. Nothing seemed to provide one. Did you really want to do this? In exchange for a few questions?

The possibility of death was at every corner. There were only two things you could think of that would keep you alive: power and knowledge. You could at least know and move forward on your own like that. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

Even though the object was doughy and soft, and the icing was smooth and silky as it penetrated your mouth with sweetness similar to pure sugar, it still felt like chalk was being forced down your esophagus. Drugs were in this, and you didn't even know what kind. The pursuit of not running around in aimless circles drove you to the next bite though, and the next.

"A mirror."

He didn't speak this until you forced the last bite down your throat and Allen tugged his fingers away, wiping them on his pants in disgust. You glanced over to Oliver.

"This is a mirror," he repeated, though in a more amused tone when he caught a glimpse of your expression. "This entire place is a mirror. Evidently, this mirror is also what started this war."

What did that mean? It was an answer that seemed like it was trying to be cryptic. You asked about it, but he only shrugged in response.

"It is a bit of a story, and I doubt you shall stay awake for all of it..."

It wasn't a teasing remark. This little sentence seemed to be a particular hint to, perhaps, what you just ate. That was what your stomach warned you, anyway. You didn't exactly feel exhausted yet though.

"It is not a big concern, how this began, I mean. Anything else?"

That was just it, you should know how this started. It seemed like a big deal to everybody else—the 'beginning'—and even though you got little bits and pieces from the story Francis told you, you still didn't know a lot. Then again, you really only had one mission: to get out. That should be your top priority.

"How did I get in?"

"Cracks in the mirror, I would assume." Upon your confusion, the male let out a laugh. "There were a few cracks in this mirror. Someone tried to break it."

Would breaking the mirror get everybody out though? Even when you questioned this, Oliver shook his head, that little amused grin hiding behind one hand. "Not if we are all inside it though!"

How would you even get inside a mirror?

"It is the Earth," he explained, though vaguely. He chuckled at himself, speaking up again to try and make it seem more clear. "The mirror is the Earth, and there were cracks in the mirror, so there were cracks in the Earth. And vice versa, I would assume."

If you had a free arm, you would have rubbed your temples. That didn't make any sense at all. So was this a literal mirror or a figurative mirror? And if there were cracks in this place—which was apparently the mirror, but also the Earth—then how did you get in here? Why was there similar people? At least there seemed to be a reoccurring pattern, but it still didn't make logical sense. This 'mirror' knowledge also didn't explain why everybody was obsessed about what country you came from, though maybe that fit more into the 'Earth' category more?

Suddenly, you felt a pang of dizziness rush across your brain. Your eyes blinked quickly, trying to wash away the sudden charcoal that prickled your vision for a few seconds and move back to the conversation. "Who…were chosen to be in here? Why?"

"A certain group," he answered just as cheerily as before. If he noticed your minute of tiredness, he didn't respond to it in any outright way. He was still smiling along like always. "Well, a certain two groups. I assume you could call us ambassadors? Something along those lines."

"All different countries competing, you mean?"

"No… There is one person from each country on both sides."

"Then…who is fighting who?"

"Black and white, of course! Even you know that!"

That didn't make any nick of sense, especially with the whole mirror and Earth analogy that was going on as well. Maybe this Oliver was just pulling stuff from his ass, who knew. Your mind was slowly shutting off though, with your thoughts floating like snails to reach slow discoveries and leisure actions. You could close your eyes to try and relax a bit, but you thought you would never open them again if you did.

"Ask something else, love!"

It was really just a guessing game for what he meant, and you were just as confused as before. There were patterns, sure, but they didn't seem to mean anything. You needed to find a question that could mean something.

"Did you start the war?"

The maroon-haired male paused at this question, an oddly discouraged air pulsing around his upturned lips. However, a certain eavesdropper laying on the couch spoke up for himself, his voice harsh to the silent air. "Of course we did, obviously! But they deserved it, the stupid cocky hosers."

They deserved it? "How?"

"We fucking declared war on them and the fight started! It was that easy!"

"No, I mean…" you breathed, the extreme fatigue washing over your heavy eyelids and slouching figure. You took a few breaths, but it wasn't working. You were fading fast. Your lips felt numb, barely allowing you to lisp your next words. "I mean... Why? Why are you...kil...killing them...?"

You could hardly keep yourself upright to hear your guide speak his next whispered words. "Petty jealousy.

"I don't und..."

As you were blanking out, you swear you heard: "I merely do not wish for them to exist anymore."