After so long they finally managed to achieve a status that would lead people to think that they're worth something. They had to thank us somehow. They had spent the whole year devising a plan to make their name be known.
Everyone gathered in the theater waiting to see how they had spent my year. They lied as they talked about hopes for the future and wanting to see us have fun. They couldn't take it. They pulled out a gun they had hidden from security and shot themself. They just wanted it to end.
Everyone screamed and ran away as the security guards ran in to address the scene. I joined everyone in the running, but something inside me said that it was planned. It wasn't real. Sure, I had seen their organs fall onto the ground as the bullet impacted them, but something in my mind told me to laugh and see what other surprises they had. This was nothing more than a game.
Back at my room, I got an email saying that everything that had been planned for this weekend was canceled. Another person walked into my room and said that their death was all planned by some sort of serial killer who wished to kill us all as we ran around trying to learn who they were. The killer wasn't scared of their identity being learned. They just wanted to watch us run around, fail to learn, and panic over the fear of sudden death.
But that person who just came into my room, they had to be lying. There's no way a serial killer would simply come all the way here. Wouldn't security catch them. They just have to be an actor. Or perhaps someone who wants to believe that they're an actor and that none of this insanity is real. I too had wanted to believe that all of this was a game.
The following few days were Hell. The killer found my email address and proceeded to spam and taunt me. At 3:00 AM I would get phone calls consisting of screams of kidnapped victims forced to read off instructions for the killer's demands only to be murdered while still on the line. The killer would send me pictures of myself just going around doing my chores and eating despite me having been the only one in the areas where the pictures were taken. I got a pipe bomb sent to me in the mail from an anonymous source, which I can only assume was the killer. A fire broke out at a bar down the street, known for hosting many people in the area. Most of them were injured and a few were killed.
Ever since, my mind has been in conflict. I can no longer determine what is real and what is just part of that person's plan. They wanted fame, so have they hired actors to play out a twisted Fantasy of theirs, or did they really find themselves in the center of a killer's path? I have locked myself in my room attempting to piece together this new reality I find myself thrust into.