Alice in Borderland | Transmigration

Chapter 17

Hot searing pain shot up your arm every time you moved, the slightest shift had you clutching your arm and gritting your teeth. Nothing in your life has come close to the pain you feel now, tears slipping as you hold back a scream.

It took everything within you to not just collapse near a wall and let yourself bleed out, to hell with the Borderlands.

However, the thought of seeing your friends again kept you moving. Blood ran down your arm, dripping onto the carpet and leaving a trail behind you.

You had to get a phone. You weren't sure what would happen to you if the game cleared and you weren't properly registered, but you believed it would be nothing good. Problem was, the phone was in the lobby, where tons of militants roamed around, throwing bodies into fires.

The chance of you surviving that trip would be less than the chance of you surviving a high level diamonds game, not very high.

Your best shot would be to go into the lobby when Arisu comes down and distracts everyone. Hopefully at that point, the phone would still be intact.

The fire was spreading rapidly, the halls coated with smoke. You coughed, every breath tickled your throat the wrong way. You wanted to go outside, but Niragi was on the rooftop literally sniping everyone.

You kept telling yourself that all you needed to do was lay low, survive, and not cause any disturbance to ruin the plotline. The thought that Arisu and everyone else will bring this craze to an end soon was your only salvation as you staggered down the hall.

Your feet were becoming unsteady, and you would have been convinced you'd lost all feeling in your arm if not for the dull throb every now and then.

You've never understood how people in action movies can still fight with five bullet holes in their chest, an amputated arm and a severe concussion, very unrealistic, you thought as the blood loss caused black spots to blink in and out of your vision. You felt lightheaded, legs becoming jelly underneath you.

You couldn't handle it any longer, and slumped against the wall. The searing pain in your arm cancelled out the burst of agony blooming through your back as you had –quite harshly– banged it against the hard surface.

Gasping and spluttering at the fumes, tears streaked down your face from all the smoke stinging your eyes.

You were going to die here.

Then the real tears came, wave after wave and you just let them run. You were going to die. You were going to die all alone, choking on your own spit and fumes. You probably won't even have a corpse to bury. This wasn't how you planned to die, you wanted to die surrounded by the people you love. You wanted to pass knowing your family, friends and everyone in your beloved life was okay.

Your mind flickered back to lifeless eyes, and you sobbed.

You had killed someone. You had watched as they collapsed into a pool of their own blood. You had watched as their pupils transformed from a human into a corpse.

Logically, you know that it was either you or him, and you would have picked yourself time and time again. However, it didn't make this any easier, the guilt threatening to wrangle itself around your neck and just choke.

And so you cried. You screamed your heart out in the midst of flames and guns. All the pressure, all the worries, all the desperation clawed itself out of your throat. You cried until your stomach upheaved itself and you almost threw up.

You missed your family. You didn't want to be here dying by yourself engulfed by smoke. You didn't want to be in this shitty world filled with death games. You had arrived in this world with a yolo attitude, amused at your situation but feeling superior because you knew the plot.