A Game of Silence - part 23

The Game Master and his masks

The cold, hollow silence of the white void pressed in around Will as he stood there, still reeling from the revelation. His hands trembled as he grasped at the reality of what had just been told to him. He was the Game Master now.

The shadow version of himself, the thing that had mirrored his every movement, had vanished into the blinding light, leaving only the deafening echo of its words ringing in his mind.

"You are the Game Master, Will." The words repeated over and over, a mantra, as if they were carving themselves into his skull. He had tried to resist, tried to outrun the game, but now it was undeniable. He was the one who would control it.

He looked down at his hands, his fingers still shaking from the rush of emotions—fear, confusion, anger. But beneath all of that, something else stirred. There was a darkness inside him, a growing sense of power, of control. He could feel it now, pulsing beneath his skin, as if the very essence of the game had seeped into him, becoming a part of him.

He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the feeling, but it was futile. It wasn’t just a metaphor—he could feel the game in his veins. It was real. He was real. He had been chosen, like the others before him, and now the game would continue with him at its helm.

The white void around him began to change, flickering like a broken television. The endless stretch of light fractured, revealing something new: a door—just like the one he had walked through moments ago, but this one was different. It wasn’t a simple exit. It wasn’t a way out. It was a portal. The light behind the door pulsed like a living thing, and as Will took a step forward, the air crackled with electricity.

He hesitated, his breath caught in his throat. This wasn’t just a door—it was an invitation. The Game Master’s invitation to step into a role that had destroyed so many before him. He had seen the deaths. He had witnessed the agony, the terror. He had been part of it all.

But the feeling inside him grew stronger. The power. The certainty. The control.

He reached for the handle and pulled the door open.

A rush of cold air hit him as he stepped through.

The world beyond was not the white void anymore. Instead, Will found himself standing in a vast room, dark and cavernous, with towering shelves filled with books. The walls were lined with clocks—dozens of them, ticking in perfect unison. The room smelled old, musty, like something forgotten in time. The sound of the ticking clocks echoed in his head, a relentless reminder of how time was part of the game.

But that wasn’t what caught his attention. No, what made his heart lurch was the screen—a massive, blackened monitor at the far end of the room. It hummed quietly, awaiting his attention. And when he looked closer, he could see the faint outline of figures—shadows—moving on the screen, just like the ones he had seen before.

The game had already started. And he was the one controlling it.

Will approached the screen slowly, almost instinctively, drawn to it like a moth to flame. His hand hovered above the controls—the switches, the dials, the buttons. They were all familiar now. He had used them before, back when he was a player. Now, they were his tools. His power.

With a deep breath, he pressed the first button.

The screen flickered to life.

On it, the faces of twenty new players appeared, each one looking terrified, confused, unsure of their surroundings. They were sitting in a dark room, much like he had been, but unlike Will’s journey, they didn’t know what was about to happen. They had no idea that they were now part of the game—and that Will was the one who would decide their fates.

The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. These people were now his responsibility, just as he had been once. And the game would be exactly the same as it had been before. The rules, the manipulations, the deceptions—he could choose it all.

A chill ran through his body as the screen updated, showing the players’ nervous glances, their confusion, their fear. He could already see the choices they would make. He could already see the path they would follow.

And he would be the one to lead them.

The thought terrified him.

And yet… something inside him was exhilarated.

He was in control now.

The voices of the past—his past, the faces of the other players he had manipulated, twisted, and led to their deaths—whispered from the corners of the room. Will could feel them now, fading in and out of his consciousness. They were no longer the players. They were part of him—the choices he had made, the lives he had ended, the game itself. All of it was now a part of who he had become.

His fingers hovered over the next button. There was no turning back. Not now. Not after everything he had done. He had crossed the line. He had embraced the darkness.

The first player on the screen—a man—suddenly stood up, his face pale, his eyes darting around. He was aware of the cameras, aware that something was wrong. But he didn’t know what. He could feel the same thing Will had felt so many times before: the unease, the paranoia. The first step of the game.

Will took a deep breath and pressed the button.

The game had begun again.

A Game of Silence is the property of the Author and must not be plagiarised. Legal action will be taken against those who copy, download, or use its content for monetization purposes.