DEATH GAME 8

Complete darkness.

Then, a series of heavy THUNKS — the sound of industrial lights switching on. Suddenly, the room is humming with a bright, blinding radiance.

The Woman in Red, a raven-haired beauty wearing only a lacy red bra and panties, lifts a sluggish hand to cover her eyes from the blinding lights. She had been sitting in the dark for hours, awake but completely blind and disoriented.

As her hazel eyes adjust to the harsh light, she gets a better look at her surroundings. She's in a low-ceilinged room, grey and sterile, with different colored doors lining the walls. A large square pit ominously consumes the center of the room, its dark depth incalculable. A large security camera looms over the room from the back corner. It looks expensive. In the other corner of the room is another person in White underwear, seemingly knocked out.

Forcing herself onto her feet, the Woman in Red stumbles across the room, twisting each of the colored doorknobs to no avail. "Shoot! All locked..."

Going prone on her stomach, the Woman in Red hesitantly inches forward until her head peeks over the edge of the black pit. She squeaks out a warbled "H-H-Hello!?" But there's no echo. The pit devours her voice.

Feeling increasingly distressed with her situation, the Woman in Red turns to the unconscious person in White. She reaches forth a shaky hand to jostle White awake: "H-Hey... hey! Can you hear me? Wake up! We... We need to-"

A sudden noise interrupts the Woman in Red: a clicking sound paired with light static. An intercom activating.

An uncanny female voice, devoid of emotion or personality, speaks plainly from the intercom:

ALL 8 PARTICIPANTS ARE LUCID. DEATH GAME 8 HAS BEGUN. 8 HOURS REMAIN.

Complete darkness.

Then, a series of heavy THUNKS — the sound of industrial lights switching on. Suddenly, the room is humming with a bright, blinding radiance.

The Man in Orange, a skinny, blond surfer-type, wearing only an orange pair of boxer briefs, quickly lifts a hand to cover his eyes from the blinding lights. He had been sitting in the dark for hours, awake but completely blind and disoriented.

As his amber eyes adjust to the harsh light, he gets a better look at his surroundings. He's in a low-ceilinged room, grey and sterile, with different colored doors lining the walls. A large square pit ominously consumes the center of the room, its dark depth incalculable. A large security camera looms over the room from the back corner. It looks expensive. In the other corner of the room is another person in White underwear, seemingly knocked out.

Jumping to his feet, the Man in Orange skitters across the room, twisting each of the colored doorknobs to no avail. "Fuck dude! They're all locked..."

Peeking over the edge of the black pit, the Man in Orange shouts a quick "Hello!?" But there's no echo. The pit devours his voice.

Feeling a bit freaked out by his situation, the Man in Orange turns to the unconscious person in White. He grabs both shoulders and tries to jostle White awake: "Hey... yo! You gotta wake up! This place is super weird, we gotta get-"

A sudden noise interrupts the Man in Orange: a clicking sound paired with light static. An intercom activating.

An uncanny female voice, devoid of emotion or personality, speaks plainly from the intercom:

ALL 8 PARTICIPANTS ARE LUCID. DEATH GAME 8 HAS BEGUN. 8 HOURS REMAIN.