An infinite amount of doors lined the hallway as Joon jogged down it, the duffel bag thumping against his back in a consistent predictable rhythm. There was a clearly marked exit, only one of the doors being propped open. It didn't have a very inviting air to it though being dark and quite dreary. Passing through it meant he was in this suicidie mission. He wondered if he'd even make it one minute in this game. It is unlikely that being able to give good fan service will help much, so many could be possibly screwed over. Joon at least was a bit older than many of the others, and was probably more experienced than some. He’d made plenty of mistakes, gotten into many fights, messed up a lifetime of relationships; the lessons learnt from those would be helpful for surving. The number one lesson probably being do not get into relationships with the hopes of it to last a long time or at all. For a moment he stood outside the scratched door, calming himself and trying to formulate a plan in this four second break. Mir's voice spoke in his head, quoting,

"Run as far and as fast as you can"

What will be waiting beyond this temporarily safe hallway? Well, perhaps asking who will be was the better question. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale; get it over with. Mai might shoot him if he didn't get his out into the playing field. Joon bit down on his lower lip a hard as possible to try and stop his agonal breathing. The hinges squealed as Joon flung open the door and slipped through.

"Woah"

It was a town of shadows, the buildings menacingly coveirng the ground in black blankets. It was just a South Korean city, nothing Joon was unfamiliar with. They had been told it would be a city but to be honest, why would  or should he trust a killer's word. A laundromat there and a cafe here; it was normal. Maybe it was the juxtaposition of the place's mundanity and the game's gruesome concept that made Joon so uneasy. Stealthily he crept along the building’s brick outer walls before bolting it across the street. The faster his legs pumped, the louder the bag thudded against his side. Whatever was in it was heavy, ie. a heavy weapon. Hopefully it was something idiot proof like a knife or gun, nothing that had to be used too creatively.

Joon resumed his silent tip toeing along the edges of buildings, aware that another idol could be running by at any time. Before he even considered playing the game, he needed to simply survive it and find some shelter. He was passing club after club, bar after bar, but all the ones he tried to sneak into were locked. Alcohol would be a very valuable item for survival; cleansing wounds, possible flammable weapon, and if all went downhill he could drink himself dead. Seeing no one in the streets or hearing the low level buzz from chatter made the atmosphere very eerie, the shadows more mysterious. Then the loud slap of feet on pavement shattered the silence. In a split second Joon himself flat against the closest wall, noticing a darting shadow. A split second was not fast enough however.

“, , balls” swore Joon

He dared to turn around to see what he was up against. It was some boy much younger than him, probably not even 20 years old. He didn’t recognize him. That was probably for the better in this game. After extensively watching every action movie he could, Joon knew not to run in a straight line, engage in witty banter, or tell the truth unless you wanted to die painfully. Weaving in between random stands and signs. he slowly gained a bit of hope as his feet carried him forward. Unfortunately, that’s when the arrows started flying at him from behind.

“A crossbow? Really!” he angrily yelled in his mind, pushing himself to sprint even faster

The sound of the boy’s running matched his, possibly rivaled it. As for the deathly arrows, he didn’t exactly have bad aim, a few impaling garbage cans and trees within arm’s reach. The kid had to run out of them at some point at least. After that, what was the plan? Run forever? It sure seemed that way.

“Kid get tired?” Joon still kept a steady pace, noticing that the footsteps pursuing him had dissipated, “Or getting strategic...”

For a moment he forced himself to stop freaking out and just listen. He heard barely anything; no whizzing arrows or wildly running person behind him. Not much longer could be sprint, the adrenaline rush beginning to fade, so he ducked behind a large bus parked on the road. Standing still he couldn’t help but noisily take in a few huge breaths.

“J-j-oon? ”

He rolled his eyes at whoever had just spoken, still catching his breath loudly. How about he doesn’t put himself back into harms way, not for another five minutes at least. Do not move, do not speak. He peered underneath the bus, seeing a floppy hand with a few arrows clenched in it. Did someone kill that kid? Were they about to come and do that to him too? God he wished that he had his other shoe right now so he could run properly.

“What do you want” he spat, starting to inch out of the cover the bus provided.

Of course there was no reply. How come people can’t give straight yes or no answer these days?

“You sh-” Joon froze when he stuck his head around the bus, dropping his voice back down to its normal register, “What are you doing Taemin?”

“Well did you want me to let this guy kill you?” rhetorically replied Taemin, his bloody knife still raised

“Yeah... Thanks” muttered Joon, eyeing the unknown body

“Don’t thank me” Taemin stiffened the arm which held his knife, calmly saying “If I had known that person better than you, you’d be that dead one on the ground instead”

He considered that situation, Taemin hunting him down with a knife. Could he have stood a chance? His weapon is still in his bag and Taemin is pretty quick. Even if he did have the advantage weapon and skill wise, could he bring himself to murder someone, someone he knew?

“What’s your number”

“Hm?” Joon automatically replied, startled out of his thoughts

Taemin repeated,

“Number - what one do you have”

Number, number, number... Joon had only left the common room maybe half an hour ago, and was running for his life just five minutes ago. There was not much time to consider what the hell the partners and matching numbers meant. Not dying took priority.

“Uh.. hm....well” Joon contrinued to use verbal fillers before making up an answer, “Eight?”

“Wrong. I know who eight is” accused Taemin, taking a few steps forward

The number eight was the number stenciled on his duffel bag. Was there some cryptic code hidden in the city that revealed everyone’s number? Were the numbers to do with the idol’s birthdays, companies, or age? How did Taemin know his, and who eight was? Did he know who his partner was already? Joon really wished he had alcohol right now. Drunk Joon was actually pretty ingenius.  

“Where is yours?” Joon was trying not to sound totally vulnerable and out of the loop, ordering, “Show me”  

Keeping eye contact with Joon, Taemin put away his weapon. They both waited a moment to see if either would try something, but neither did. Taemin lifted up his t-shirt to reveal his stomach. On the right of his lower abdomen was a tattoo of the number four. It didn’t have any fancy ornamental lines or cliche quotes around it, it was simply a 4. Immediately Joon checked his stomach, but nothing was there.

“One second” he muttered, removing his jacket and tossing it at Taemin’s feet

His arms were tattoo free. Swiftly he removed his shirt also, searching the front of his body for a number. He still saw only clean and free skin.

“Number 9” Taemin relaxed his once stiff pose, shrugging, “We’re not partners”

Confused Joon ran up towards the bus again, checking hinself out in the side view mirrors. When he turned around he saw the black 9 inked on his right shoulder. The skin was even a little pink still.

“Did you know him” questioned Taemin, motioning towards the dead body

Joon shook his head,

“No. Have never seen or heard of him”

Taemin strolled up to the boy’s over turned figure, cautiously taking the arrows and bow in his hand. Never had he been this close to a murder scene before, or had he ever caused one. As much as he wanted to believe he wasn’t bothered by this game and that he was willing to do anything to win and return to his normal idol lifestyle, he couldn’t do that fully. The ground was beginning to spin more rapidly the longer he kneeled beside the corpse. He should just get it over with and check out the kid’s number.

From a safe distance Joon watched as Taemin began to roll up the pant legs and sleeves that the deceased had on. He had seen plenty of blood and gore - real and really fake- but being directly involved was completely different. This had been his attacker, some stranger with a crossbow, who had been prepared to kill him. Did everyone in this game have a kid like that in them - one that wanted to spill anyones blood?

“He’s an eleven” informed Taemin after exposing the upper arm

“Doesn’t help either of us” commented Joon

“Well, one less person to consider as an ally. Plus he’s dead” loudly Taemin clear his throat while  tossing his bag on his back, calling over to Joon, “Best you move on. Leave this place before someone comes and tries to ing kill you again”

With a crooked smile Joon scoffed at the advice. He thought it was quite humourous that Taemin, pretty poster boy of innocence for S.M. Entertainment, was trying to pass on tips like he knew what to do in a fight to the death. None of the idols competing had even served their military service or killed somebody. It is possible that some haven’t even cut their own meat before with a knife. They would become the meat if they didn’t adapt.

“Agreed. Get lost kid” said Joon, grabbing his own bag.

“You too, and watch out” quickly responded Taemin, running down the street and around the corner, three arrows and one crossbow in hand.

The street slowly had become completely submerged in shadow during this time. Only a few slivers of light were visible, coming from the glow of signs a street or two over. With one shoe on, Joon started to runaway again.