Would You Rather? Kill or Be Killed?

Flynn walked into the coffee shop—the one he'd agreed to meet Connor at.

Connor wasn't there yet, so Flynn slid into a booth alone and waited.

A waitress approached. "What would you like to order, sir?"

"Americano, less sugar… Actually, make it a caramel coffee. Extra sweet."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"No, that's all. Thanks." He smiled politely as she walked off.

Flynn sighed and leaned his head against his palm, quietly watching the shop. Around him, there was laughter, casual gossip, noisy chatter—pointless, happy conversation.

And he smiled too, though it faded fast.

"Sorry to make you wait." Connor slid into the booth smoothly, eyeing him. "You alright?"

"Well... maybe."

The waitress returned. "What would you like?"

"Coffee. Black."

"Alright." She left again.

"This is weird," Flynn said.

"It really is. Have you seen today's question?"

"Not yet. Thought I'd enjoy my day without thinking about it, as long as possible."

"Fuck, that's a good idea." Connor chuckled dryly. "It's already five. You'll hear the question soon anyway, I might as well spoil it now."

"Aww, come on."

Connor pulled out his phone and showed him the screen:

[Would you rather kill or be killed?]

[If you choose to kill, you will start with a weapon in an abandoned apartment building. Your objective is to kill a player who chose to be killed. Failure to do so by 4 a.m. will result in elimination.]

[If you choose to be killed, you will start empty-handed in the same building. Your objective is to survive the attackers until 4 a.m.]

"Shit."

"Yeah. Shit."

"I don't think many will choose to kill," Flynn said. "We're all kinda expecting to die any day now. I doubt most of us are afraid of getting killed anymore. At least personally, I'm more afraid of being the killer."

"So you're gonna choose 'be killed'?"

"Did you?"

"I did."

"Then I will—"

"No, you won't," Connor cut him off.

The waitress returned with their drinks. "Here you go."

"Thanks, sweetie," Connor said, oddly cheerful, as Flynn stared at him in confusion.

"What do you mean I won't?"

"You'll choose to kill," Connor said, pointing at Flynn, "and I'll run like hell to get to you. You kill me. And you live another day with your daughter."

Flynn hesitated, eyes narrowing.

"Where is she right now?" Connor asked.

"At home. Probably studying."

Connor smiled. "That's nice, that's very nice. Didn't think kids did that anymore."

"She's a good kid," Flynn murmured. "Really good."

"Then let her keep her dad. Let her keep someone who needs to be alive."

Flynn looked up. "What about you?"

Connor shook his head. "I got no one. No one who needs me alive, and no one who'd remember if I died."

Silence settled between them as they both sipped their drinks.

"Do remember me though, Flynn," Connor said. "Me, Connor Park—the most unaccomplished individual in the history of unaccomplished individuals." He smiled weakly.

Flynn didn't know what to say.

"So… would you rather kill or be killed?" Connor asked again.

"I'll stall my answer."

"You've got until nine."

—

9:00 PM – Jason's Dorm Room

**Knock, knock, knock.**

Samantha, Heather, Caitlyn, and Jason were already there when the knock came. Liam stood at the door with a girl behind him.

"Who's this?" Caitlyn asked.

"She's gonna help us stop the game," Liam said.

"Hiiiii." the girl waved slowly with a smile. "I'm V."

"How exactly are we doing that?" Samantha asked.

"Liam told me that at ten, all of you will lose consciousness in one way or another and get dragged off to the game venue. So I've got two plans."

V held up two fingers, then lowered one. "One: I kill everyone but one of the kidnappers, beat the living shit out of him until he spills to the police."

Samantha stared her down coldly.

"You don't like that plan."

"I don't."

V smiled and raised her second finger. "Two: I film them in the act and take it to the feds. Case as crazy as this caught on camera is enough to spark a large-scale investigation. And once the spotlight's on this game, it's over."

"We'll go with two," Heather said.

"Two is suboptimal, you know. It's just the backup in case I'm not confident I can kill all of them."

"We'll go with two," Samantha repeated, her tone firm and final.

V turned to Liam, her 'boss.'

He was more inclined to the first plan, but Samantha's glare held him in place. He nodded.

"No fun," V smirked.

"So how're you going to do it?" Heather asked.

"This." V held up a tiny black sphere between two fingers.

"Is that a…" Caitlyn leaned forward.

"Camera. Smallest model I could get."

She planted it in the soil of a potted plant.

The group except V sat in a circle, tension thick. Jason glared at Liam throughout.

"Stop it," Samantha said.

Jason didn't answer, but he lowered his head. The rage didn't leave, but he kept it buried.

10:00 PM.

Everyone collapsed into unconsciousness simultaneously. The lights cut out. Darkness swallowed the room.

Six men in black broke in.

One scanned the room with a device. The others picked up the players: Heather, Samantha, Liam, Jason, Caitlyn.

The sixth man found the camera, hidden in the plant. Took it and smashed it into pieces.

They left, carrying the players into the night.

Silence returned—until the ceiling shifted.

A panel slid back. V, hidden above, peered down with a night vision camera in hand.

She whispered to herself:

"Holy shit… it's real."