i was going to start posting after i finished the entire fic and edited and all that, but i wrote 7 chaps and now i have extreme writer's block. someone help me.

also, this is a weird, confusing fic so bear with me lol

Lay woke up with a start. He in shallow, desperate breaths and his pounding heart thudded in his ears. It was as if he had been running with all his might and it still felt as if someone was chasing after him. He swallowed heavily and took a deep breath before fumbling for his clock. What time is it? he wondered. It was dark in the room, but he felt like he had been sleeping for a long time.

But his hand swiped at thin air and hit a piece of wood, the knock echoing. Lay froze, feeling a sense of unease wash over him once again. Or rather, it had never left, but came on stronger now. He forced himself to sit up and

What the ?

He was not in his room. This was not his room.

It was dark – it had no windows and he couldn’t see much – but this most definitely was not his room.

“What the ?” he said out loud.

His voice was familiar and yet strange – it wavered and bounced off the walls and came back to him in the wrong way – too empty and distorted. But it sounded just as he felt – confused.

Finding the willpower and courage from somewhere, he pulled himself up from the bed and stumbled around blindly. He hit himself against what was probably a desk, before he found a light switch by chance. Flipping it on, the room was instantly cast into a sickly fluorescent glow, but the single bulb from the middle of the low ceiling was enough for him. He surveyed the foreign room cautiously, but there wasn’t much to see. And there weren’t many places for monsters, killers or whatever he was fearful of to hide in, despite the eerie shadows cast by the lightbulb.

A bed and a night table.

Four walls and a door.

That was it.

Wanting to get out of the room and hoping it was really just a dream inside of a dream, Lay approached the door.

And it swung open just as he reached for the doorknob.

“Holy ing !” he yelped, jumping back and preparing to protect himself with his . . . . . . with his fists.

The intruder jumped too, but regained his composure quickly. His eyes wandered around the room before focusing back on Lay. “Did you randomly wake up here too?” he questioned.

Lay studied the man, but could find nothing in those dark eyes. “Yeah.”

“I was just looking around, trying to find out where I am,” the stranger said, shrugging. “Seems like you were gonna do the same. Might as well go together?”

Lay lowered his fists warily after a second of hesitation. “Sure,” he let out.

“Name’s Xiumin, by the way,” the man said as he stepped back out of the room and waited. “You?”

“I’m Lay.”

~ ~ ~

They were in a two-story building and there were twelve of them in total, they discovered. They found some in their rooms, ran into others who were in their own cautious quests, and somehow ended with all of them in the first floor living room. They were all in different states of wakefulness, some disgruntled, some frustrated, some staring forward blankly.

Lay made eye contact with a man who seemed to stare straight into his soul and he quickly averted his gaze, but he could still feel the other’s eyes still trained on him.

“Uh . . .” someone said, clearing his throat awkwardly. His voice was loud in the silent room, but it barely cut through the thick haze of unease that still surrounded Lay. The man might have went on, but there was a sudden crackling.

All heads snapped up as the twelve of them tried to locate the source of the sound, until someone pointed out, “There’s a speaker system.”

Just as Lay found said speaker nestled in the upper corner of the wall – along with a surveillance camera, he noticed – the crackling fizzled into a voice.

“Welcome, men and boys,” the voice said, ending with a light chuckle as if amused by its own words. “You all must be greatly confused as to why you are here and, of course, that will be for you to find out.”

Lay narrowed his eyes at the speaker. He thought of pinching himself, but he had already done so many times, and each painful time told him he was, in fact, not dreaming. But what the ing ?

“Some of you know each other, some of you wish you don’t know each other, but you all know someone, even if you think you do not know anyone.” A deliberate pause. “Oh my, I am even confusing myself with these tongue twisters!” the voice continued gleefully.

“Well, there isn’t much else for me to tell you folks. Just that there are no exits, but there definitely is one way out, which is also for you to find out. And -”

There was another sound of a machine whirring to life and the number eighteen was projected onto the wall just under the speaker.

“- there is a countdown. Only one person should still be here by the time the number reaches one. Let’s hope it’s the right person awaiting the final countdown.”

Lay stole a glance at the other men. It was a slight comfort to see all the bewildered expressions on their faces.

“But with all that said, do not worry! Let yourself free and enjoy yourselves, boys!”

With that, the voice cut off and the only sound in the room was the whirring of the projector, which Lay still could not locate.

After a pregnant pause, the same man coughed. “So, uh . . . should we introduce ourselves?” he asked, voice trailing impossibly high at the end.

“No!” cried a man  -- boy – how old were they all anyway? – stalking over to the wall.

“What kind of sick joke is this?” he screamed at the speaker, his face already red, as the rest of the room watched on. “Why did I wake up in this ing place, with that sadistic bastard?” The boy turned, glare landing on Lay for a heart-stopping moment before settling on the man next to him. The man was small and didn’t seem like a sadistic bastard, but Lay knew that looks were deceiving. And there must be something under that guise for the boy to have such a mixture of raw hatred and fear.

The boy stormed out, leaving the room in another lapse of silence.

“Well, that was interesting,” someone – the one who had noticed the speaker first – commented.

“Don’t mind him,” the sadistic bastard said in a mellow tone. “He’s just like that.”

“So some of us do know each other, huh.”

Lay glanced at Xiumin, the only one he knew by name. Xiumin looked back at him and shrugged.

“So, introductions?” the first man asked again.

~ ~ ~

“Then why don’t you go first?” a boy with a sour look questioned.

The man blushed and Lay took the time to study him. He was tall, but rather than giving him a powerful presence, his height and stature made him seem gangly and awkward. His wide smile and big eyes were nervous and Lay was already tired of him before he even started.

“Uh . . . my name’s Chanyeol,” he began. “That’s all I remember, but some of y’all look familiar. Nice to meet y’all!” he finished, his smile widening even more until Lay could see his lips trembling.

A pretty boy with sharp eyes snickered and Lay felt a bit bad.

Chanyeol stayed standing until the man beside Lay spoke up. “Please do not know me as only a sadistic bastard,” he said, causing a couple of chuckles. “I am Kyungsoo. The other one was Kai. He’s a troubled and sensitive boy. He’s dramatic and loves to stir up a commotion, waking up in this strange place didn’t help much.”

“Why was he so pissed at you?” someone asked.

The right corner of Kyungsoo’s lips raised into a half smile. “He did something wrong and I punished him, but he’s still holding a grudge against me. Please, don’t mind him.”

“How does he remember?” another man wondered, while Xiumin muttered quietly, “Too much explanation.”

Lay silently agreed with both utterances.

The introductions continued on, most only a sentence or two, as they could not remember anything more than their names.

The observant one was Luhan. The pretty boy and sour boy were Baekhyun and Sehun, respectively.

After Sehun’s introduction, a boy who had been silent the entire time suddenly spoke. “Don’t you remember me?” he implored.

As Sehun stared at the other, eyebrows furrowed, Lay glanced around the room. The speaker had said that everyone knew someone, but Lay had only been introduced to stranger after stranger. Was it a mistake? Was the speaker toying with them? Were Lay’s memories really wiped clean? Each option was terrifying, none helpful.

“No,” Sehun finally said. The other boy’s features crumpled and he slumped, dejected. “What’s your name?”

“Tao.”

Sehun bit his lips and shook his head with an apologetic look.

And the introductions continued on once again, but more cautiously, like treading on thin ice, as if anyone could be significant but forgotten.

There was Suho, who was apparently a government official and Chen, who was achingly familiar. Xiumin revealed that he remembered Luhan’s name, to which Luhan cocked his head and said, “No way.”

When it was Lay’s turn, he said simply, “I am Lay.”

And Tao said, “Why aren’t you dead?”

What the ?

“Uh . . . excuse me?” Lay let out, studying the other once again.

Two piercing, unwavering eyes stared back at him. “I remember you, Sehun and Xiumin -” The man on the other side of Lay started, a look of confusion crossing his features. “- and Luhan.”

Luhan’s mouth dropped open and murmurs filled the room.

“Then . . . what do you remember?” Luhan asked.

But Tao hesitated. “Not much,” he admitted. Lay let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and Sehun looked mildly angry. “I only have some memories, but I know that you,” he said, pointing accusingly at Lay, “are a heartless .”

The confused victim could only stare, speechless at the declaration. Tension blanketed the room.

Chanyeol cleared his throat loudly, as if it was his responsibility to end awkward situations. “We still have one more person,” he said.

Tao gave Lay one more look before backing down. The attention of the room grudgingly shifted to the last man – the first man to stare daggers at Lay.

Why do people keep glaring at me today? Lay wondered mildly. All twelve of them woke up in this bewildering situation, but no one seemed to be more confused than him.

The man stood up and Lay realized he was intimidating. He was about the same height as Chanyeol, but his aura was another story. “I am Kris,” he stated.

Lay anticipated another round of accusations, but the man sat back down after those three words.

Kyungsoo was the one who spoke up in the awkward lapse of silence that followed this time. “I must go see to Kai,” he said, excusing himself.

The others followed suit, standing up and walking away, some groups forming already. Lay stuck with Xiumin and, as they headed back to their rooms, he tried to figure out what was happening –what the just happened? – but only resulted in a headache.

“Xiumin,” he suddenly said.

The other looked up at him. “What?”

“Tao said that he remembers me, you and Sehun. Does that mean we all know each other?”

Xiumin shrugged. “Just because he knows all of us doesn’t mean we have anything to do with each other, right?”

Lay made a face, another idea shot down. “But we’re all stuck in this ed up place,” he muttered. “You really don’t remember me?” he asked again, a sliver of hope in his voice.

“If I do, I would’ve said so,” was Xiumin’s reply.

Lay continued quietly, “But you feel familiar?”

“What?” Xiumin replied, stopping to stare at his companion.

Lay shrunk a little under his stare. “Just . . .” he said, fidgeting, “I don’t know you, but I trust you. At least, I feel like I should.”

Xiumin furrowed his brows, considering the other’s words before finally shrugging. “Guess I’m just a good guy. It’s that obvious.”

Lay rolled his eyes and they continued their walk back. “Yeah, even though you scared the out of me this morning,” he retorted.

Xiumin laughed, a rich and genuine sound. “Your reaction was hilarious!” He imitated Lay’s fighting stance from earlier. Lay pouted, pretending mock offense, before joining the laughter.

Back in his new room, Lay sat down heavily on the bed. It was only midday, but he just wanted to sleep. There was nothing to do in this cursed place and he still hoped, deep down, that he could wake up and realize it was all a dream (nightmare).

He lied down, trying to get comfortable. The mattress was hard and lumpy, digging into his back. The pillow was too thin, but when he put his arm under it, it was too high. Staring up at the ceiling, he realized there was a surveillance camera in the corner as well.

“Goddammit,” he cursed out loud. “ing won’t even let me sleep in peace.”

He tossed and turned, wanting to get away from this place. Even if only for a while, even if only in his mind.

But of course.

Just as his muscles began to relax, there was a knock on the door.

He sprang up at the sudden noise, muttering, “God ing dammit,” as he shuffled over to the door.

“Who the is it?” he snapped.

“Luhan,” came the muffled yet cheery reply.

Lay sighed and opened the door, keeping his emotions in check. “Oh, hi,” he greeted the other man.

Luhan let himself in and plopped onto the bed. Lay walked over and awkwardly hovered above the newcomer. “Uh . . .”

“I share a room with Kyungsoo.” Lay raised an eyebrow. What was the rooming arrangement here? “He went to find Kai and I was bored. You’re right next door, y’know,” Luhan explained.

“Ah,” Lay offered.

There was a brief pause and then, “So, what are we supposed to do now?” Lay asked Luhan, who had settled comfortably on the bed.

“Just . . . chill. Wait for the speaker to tell us to do something. Wait for the countdown to start. Wait for to go down.”Luhan reached out and dragged Lay down onto the bed. “Just relax. Can’t do much anyway.”

The boy’s eyelids fluttered and closed. Lay waited until his breathing evened before sitting up quietly. His wish to sleep gone, he slipped out of the room. He wished he could have Luhan’s mindset, but alas, he overthought everything and stressed the out over nothing. He mentally slapped himself and knocked on Xiumin’s door, on the other side of Lay’s room.

As of now, Xiumin was the only one of the other eleven that Lay could feel remotely comfortable with.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

He walks down the street, a light bounce in his step, high off adrenaline from his last job. A boy staggers into the corner of his vision and collapses. In the mood to not mind his own business, Lay rushes over. “Are you okay?” he asks in concern. “Are you – Kai?!”

The boy now in his arms is bruised and battered, but his features still recognizable. What the ? “Kai?” Lay asks again. “What –”

The boy whispers something and coughs, blood dribbling down his chin. Lay leans in.

“ . . . xing,” he makes out.

Lay furrows his brows.

“It’s Jongin,” Kai says, chuckling bitterly. “Don’t you remember me?”

“What –”

“Your father gave me away to hell!” He’s interrupted by a bout of dry heaves. “But I guess I don’t matter. Just a servant boy. Easy to forget. About to die.”

And he stops breathing -- Hand drops down onto the ground – Body goes limp.

Lay stares.

“Kai?” he asks, tentatively.

“J . . . Jongin?” he tries.

No answer.

A pair of leather shoes appear in front of him, sharp points directed at him. Lay looks up and Kyungsoo smiles down at him.

dreams are in present tense and reality is in past. but if it's not clear, i can italicize it or smthing