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And so it began... an undefined number of participants competing to finally leave this game and their monsters behind. Few of those committed suicide, not willing to live in this scary dangerous unknown world anymore. Some were too scared to fight, only to be killed by ones more brave. Blood has taken control of many, countered only by those who carefully crafted their plans. All is but finite.
At last, one remained, a young fellow, barely over 18. The one who killed the last participant. The one who hoped to escape this cruelty, who has descended to cruelty on his own. To no avail. The fate was not kind. The monster which should have disappeared, remained alive. Haunting the mind and sanity of the victorious one. Was this a reward? Or a bad twist? He couldn't tell. The years had gone past, filled with paranoia, doubting every shadow. His life was but a war of one. With none to help. Yet after long long years, he finally saw it. A young adult, perhaps few years younger than the victorious one, going carelessly along the busy street, and beside him, a frightening creature, which none paid attention to. He was conversing with this monster like it was an old friend. He had escaped the gruesome game by luck, and happily befriended the creature. Before the young adult knew it, he was bleeding. An expression of surprise, rather than shock was on his face. As he turned back, he saw a crazy smile of the paranoid one. He accepted his death much easily, even nonchalantly, as opposed to his killer, who frantically acted the same minute he saw the true last participant of the game.
As both monsters disappeared into the void, now the truly victorious one was finally free from the game that took too long to finish. Or was he really free The game that took eleven years. The game that stole countless lives. But in a true sense, it stole only one. The one that was left alive.
I came up with this story some time ago, and suddenly remembered about it now. It was very fun to write and reread, so I decided to post it somewhere.