Horror Blood Of Game

Inside the corner was a narrow storage room. A wooden table stood in the middle. On it rested a game console shaped like a low black box. Its sides were smooth and shiny. A red mark curved across the top like a painted drop of paint.

A controller lay beside it.

Mira stepped into the room.

The air smelled like warm plastic. Tiny lights blinked along the console’s edge. The clicking came from the controller, where two buttons pressed themselves again and again.

Click. Click.

Mira smiled a little. “Very funny.”

Someone at school had been leaving silly surprises in the halls all week. A rubber spider in the pencil cup. A squeaky toy in the library drawer. A paper ghost taped to the principal’s door.

This had to be another prank.

Mira picked up the controller. Its buttons were soft beneath her fingers. One button had a small white triangle. Another showed a red circle.

A screen sat behind the console. Mira had not noticed it at first because it looked like a dark piece of glass.

She touched the power button.

The screen lit up.

Color spilled across the room. Red lines twisted into a picture of a door. Under it, pale letters appeared.

THE HORROR BLOOD OF GAME

Mira’s smile vanished.

The title wobbled, then settled. Beneath it, a smaller line appeared.

PLAYER FOUND.

“Okay,” Mira said. “That is a little dramatic.”

She looked toward the basement stairs again. No one called her name. Rain ticked against the windows. The school felt empty, but not lonely. The old building made quiet sounds as it cooled: a pipe pinging, a vent humming, a distant clock giving one tired tick.

Mira turned back to the screen.

A box opened in the center.

ENTER NAME.

She pressed a button. Letters rolled by.

A. B. C. D.

Mira stopped at M.

The screen moved by itself.

MIRA SALDANA

Her fingers tightened around the controller.

“How did you know that?”

The screen showed a small blinking square.

YES?

Mira looked at the name again. It was spelled correctly. Even her last name, which people often wrote as Salanda, was right.

She should have put the controller down.

She should have gone upstairs.

But the strange little machine looked like a puzzle waiting to be solved. Mira loved puzzles. She liked finding the hidden picture in a maze and spotting the missing piece in a crowded drawing. If this was a prank, she wanted to discover how it worked.

She pressed the red circle.

The screen flashed.

LEVEL ONE: THE QUIET ROOM

A cheerful tune played for three notes. Then it stopped.

The basement lights flickered.

Mira jumped, then laughed at herself. “Old wiring.”

The console gave a low hum.

On the screen, a tiny cartoon version of Mira appeared. It wore a yellow raincoat and stood in a square room with blue walls. A red door sat on one side. A silver key floated near the ceiling.

A message appeared.

FIND THE KEY.

Mira moved the controller stick. The tiny Mira walked across the screen.

“Left,” Mira said. “No, wait. Up.”

The cartoon followed her directions. Its little boots made soft tapping sounds. Mira could not help smiling.

The game was well made. The room changed when the character moved. A blue chair became a pile of books. A lamp turned its shade toward Mira.

Then the screen made a sound like a hungry stomach.

Grrrrr.

Mira stopped moving the controller.

In the corner of the game room, a round black shape appeared. It had two white eyes and a wide, empty mouth. It did not move. It only watched the tiny Mira.

A message blinked.

DO NOT WAKE THE HUNGRY ONE.

Mira frowned. “That is not funny.”

The black shape opened its mouth.

The console’s speakers made a soft sucking sound. The warm air in the storage room pulled toward the screen. Loose papers slid across the table. Mira’s hair lifted from her cheeks.

She dropped the controller.

The screen went dark.

The air became still.

For a moment, Mira heard only rain.

Then the red mark on the console glowed brighter.

Mira reached for the controller again, but stopped. She remembered the black shape. It had looked like a cartoon, but the sound had felt real.

A small paper cup rolled across the floor and bumped her shoe.

“Maybe I should leave,” she said.

The console answered with a gentle chime.

The screen lit again.

PAUSE?

Under the word were two choices.

YES

NO

The white square rested on NO.

Mira swallowed. “I did not choose that.”

She pressed the button to move the square upward. It slid to YES.

The screen flashed.

PAUSE NOT AVAILABLE.

A new message appeared.

PLAYER MUST FINISH.

Mira stepped back. Her heel struck the wooden table. The controller trembled in her hand.

“Who made you?”

The game did not answer.

The tiny Mira on the screen walked toward the red door. Behind her, the black shape stretched taller. Its eyes stayed fixed on the little yellow raincoat.

Mira moved the controller quickly. “Go! Go to the key!”

The tiny Mira ran. She climbed a stack of books and reached the silver key. The moment her hand touched it, every light in the storage room went out.

The game screen remained bright.

Red light covered Mira’s face.

The basement door slammed somewhere above.

Mira froze.

Then a soft sound came from the dark hall.

Scrape.

Scrape.

It was not loud. It did not sound close. Still, Mira’s hand found the flashlight at once.

She turned it on. The beam shook across the shelves.

Nothing stood between the boxes.

“Mrs. Vale?” Mira called.

No answer came.

The console hummed.

On the screen, the tiny Mira held the key. The black shape waited behind her.

A message appeared.

OPEN THE DOOR.

Mira looked at the red door in the game. Then she looked at the real storage-room door behind her. It was open to the basement.

The game screen gave a small blink.

The real door swung shut.

Mira ran to it and pulled the handle. It did not move.

“Okay,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “That is enough.”

She twisted the handle again. The metal was cold. The door stayed closed.

Behind her, the console played three bright notes.

The tiny Mira placed the key in the game door.

A red line appeared across the storage-room floor.

Mira stepped back.

The line grew into a square, drawing itself around her shoes. The floor inside the square changed color. It became smooth and dark, like the glass of the screen.

Mira lifted one foot.

The square moved with her.

She hurried left. The red line followed.

She hurried right. It followed again.

“This is not a prank,” she whispered.

The screen showed a new message.

SAFE TILE: BLUE.

Mira looked around the room. The floor held gray boards, brown boxes, and long patches of dust. There was no blue tile.

She remembered the old art supplies. Near the table, a box had spilled a set of colored floor squares used for school plays. Mira had seen them earlier when she entered.

She rushed to the box and pulled it open.

Red squares. Yellow squares. Green squares.

No blue.

The red outline around her feet grew smaller.

Mira pushed aside a bundle of paper stars. Beneath them lay one blue square, folded in half.

“There you are!”

She grabbed it and placed it on the floor.

The red outline flashed.

The blue square lit up.

Mira stepped onto it.

The red line vanished.

The storage-room door opened with a click.

Mira stayed still for a moment. Her knees felt soft, but the room was quiet again. The rain still tapped the windows. The shelves still held old boxes. The blue floor square shone beneath her sneaker.

She let out a slow breath.

“Good,” she said. “I found the safe tile.”

On the screen, the tiny Mira opened the red door.

The black shape leaned forward.

A long red tongue slid from its mouth and touched the game-room floor.

Mira did not wait to see more. She grabbed the controller and pressed the power button.

Nothing happened.

She pressed it again.

The console’s hum became deeper.

The screen changed.

LEVEL ONE COMPLETE.

Mira stared.

A second line appeared beneath it.

BUT THE HUNGRY ONE IS AWAKE.

The black shape on the screen turned its white eyes toward Mira. It seemed to look through the glass, across the room, and straight at her.

Mira dropped the controller onto the table.

The screen blinked once.

MIRA SALDANA

Then, below her name:

NEXT LEVEL LOADING.

Mira backed toward the open door.

“No,” she said. “I finished.”

The console gave a bright little chime.

The words on the screen changed.

LEVEL TWO: MIRA’S ROOM

Mira’s breath caught.

A picture formed beneath the title. It showed a bedroom with a yellow quilt, a moon lamp, and a shelf filled with comic books.

It was her room.

The console had never been to her house.

The basement door stood open behind her. Beyond it waited the stairs, the quiet school, and the warm rain outside. Mira could run upstairs and call for help.

But the screen showed one more message.

BRING A FRIEND.

Mira looked at the controller. Then she looked at the blue floor square and the open door.

She picked up her backpack.

“Not alone,” she said.

The console’s red mark glowed once, like a tiny warning light.

Mira stepped into the hallway. The basement seemed less like a forgotten room now and more like a place that had noticed her. Still, the stairs were solid beneath her feet. The school lights flickered back on. Somewhere upstairs, a phone began to ring.

Mira climbed toward the sound.

At the top, Mrs. Vale stood beside the office door, holding a bright yellow umbrella and a set of keys.

“There you are,” the teacher said. “I was looking everywhere.”

Mira hugged her backpack close. “Mrs. Vale, I found something downstairs.”

Mrs. Vale studied her face. “Something that made you worry?”

Mira nodded.

The teacher did not laugh. She did not tell Mira she had imagined it. She simply locked the office door and walked with her back to the basement stairs.

“What did you find?” Mrs. Vale asked.

“A game console. It knows my name.”

Mrs. Vale stopped.

The rain drummed harder against the windows.

“Show me,” she said.

Mira looked down the stairwell. Far below, a thin red glow shone beneath the basement door.

She wanted to say the console was only a machine. She wanted to say the screen would be dark when they returned.

Instead, she held out her hand to Mrs. Vale.

Together, they went back downstairs.

The console waited in the storage room. Its screen showed the picture of Mira’s bedroom. The black shape was gone, but a small red mouth had appeared in the corner.

Mrs. Vale stood beside Mira. “You were right to find help.”

Mira nodded.

The screen made a soft clicking sound.

Click. Click. Click.

Then the words appeared again.

PLAYER ONE: MIRA SALDANA

PLAYER TWO:?

Mira looked at Mrs. Vale.

The teacher reached for the controller, but the screen brightened before she touched it. A blank line began to blink beneath Player Two.

Mira squeezed Mrs. Vale’s hand.

The storage room felt cold, yet the teacher’s fingers were warm and steady.

“We will solve this together,” Mrs. Vale said.

Mira looked at the red title, the picture of her room, and the empty space waiting for another name.

She believed Mrs. Vale.

But the console did not wait.

The blank line filled itself with letters.

PLAYER TWO: UNKNOWN

The screen flashed, and the next level began to load. The picture of Mira’s room opened like a door, while a soft, hungry sound rose from the speakers.

Grrrrr.

Mira stayed beside Mrs. Vale, holding her hand as the red light spread across the basement floor. The school was still around them. The door was still open. Help was close.

And on the screen, beneath the words THE HORROR BLOOD OF GAME, a new name began to appear.

End of chapter one. 4 more chapters and about 11,683 words in the full book.