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The lights never turned back off.
The blood splattered on the ground, like a can of spilled paint, didn’t go away either. The bodies it all came from sat there for what felt like hours, their life cut off far too soon.
The smell of death was strong, the silence even stronger. He waited for any conversation…anything at all. After his frantic rummaging for magazines, it was utter silence. It was a shock that transferred to everyone in the room: a realization of the massacre in front of them.
People were slaughtered in their beds, bodies laid on the floor with three-pronged stab marks in their chest and abdomen, and some lay crushed under the towering bed racks. Gi-hun hadn’t told them what he’d seen in his games. Dae-ho realized why when he hid under the beds next to Jung-Bae as screams populated the room.
After the blackout everything was blank, his mind felt empty aside from the raw feeling of fear.
They succeeded in grabbing the guns, they started their assault, he ran away to grab magazines and then he froze like a coward. Maybe he did remember, he sure didn’t want to.
Dae-ho ended their valiant assault curled up behind the beds whimpering to himself. He held his hands to his ears, rocking back and forth softly. The jacket that held the magazines was a couple of feet away from him, he’d dropped it with his shaky hands.
Everything would have been okay if he hadn’t agreed to go. He should have been a man and stood his ground instead his hands shook as he pulled the trigger from behind a pillar.
Hyun-ju should have been the one to go, she had army experience, and he was just a boy pretending to be a man. He could hear his father’s voice like he was there. The Navy should have shaped him right, why couldn’t he do it? It wasn’t that hard to man up, everyone else fought until their last breath and here he was cowering behind the beds like it would protect anyone.
He failed his admiral, Jung-Bae, and he failed Hyun-ju. He should have stayed back with everyone else and stopped playing pretend.
Hyun-ju should slap him hard in the face, he deserved it for his failure. It hurt, he couldn’t stop crying, he couldn’t stop the gunshots all around him. It was like his nightmares, this time it was real.
All of them could be dead because of him he could have killed all the people who cared about him because of his cowardice. He was a failure, a fake, he deserved to die in the last round or go down fighting like a man, not hiding like a little girl.
“Fuck, dammit, fuck,” he whimpered, tearing at his hair with his hands. It came undone the more he grabbed at it. The sweat made strands stick to his face, and twist around until it was a knotted mess.
Dae-ho froze when he heard footsteps. He didn’t look up but, he listened like an animal watching the grass for a predator.
Dae-ho heard his name, and then voices— finally. He was sick of nothing to ground him, he felt alone surrounded by eyes.
The footsteps got closer. Dae-ho managed to look up to see Hyun-ju crouching down next to him.
“Dae-ho!” She held an assault riffle, sweat and blood covering her uniform, worse than him.
Dae-ho looked up. He gasped, shocked that she was real at all.
Hyun-ju panted, still managing to look concerned. “What happened?” she asked.
Dae-ho stared at her, everything he’d done, all the gunshots, that horrible sound, passing through his head like a movie. His tears stopped, and his mouth fell open, speechless as she stared.
What excuse did he have? He was a pussy, a coward, she was fighting for her life for Gi-hun’s plan. What did he have to show for their effort?
He couldn’t even get some magazines.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered even if it wouldn’t change a damn thing. He was so sorry, he wanted to try again, he wanted to help her. He couldn’t get a redo, life wasn’t that merciful.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, out of breath from the two words.
Hyun-ju didn’t acknowledge his apology, she drew closer.
“The magazines?” she asked frantically. Right, she wasn’t here for him, she was here to do the job he couldn’t do.
Dae-ho could only see her face, and he only felt sorry, it was all he could repeat like a scratched CD in a player.
“I’m sorry,” he uttered again, he couldn’t move he could only apologize until she went away. His hands shook, he shook like a leaf against the wind.
Hyun-ju turned, looking around him. She reached for him, her face inexpressive.
“I’m” Dae-ho whimpered, he flinched back as her hand went to reach something in front of him. His heart beat fast, his hand covered his head like it would stop the punches. He wanted her to smack him around for this, he needed to be taught a lesson.
Dae-ho looked down to see her lifting his bloodied jacket; it was the one he stockpiled with magazines. They were mere feet from him. She rummaged through the pile of magazines frantically, before wrapping them back up.
“I’m sorry..” Dae-ho said. She looked at him, an expression that was unreadable crossing her face. She didn’t acknowledge him, she picked up the bundle and stood up.
Dae-ho looked down at the smooth floor, muttering “I’m sorry” again and again as she took off between the bed racks.
The instant she ran an alarm buzzed, normally a sign that the doors to the room were opening.
Hyun-ju froze, ducking down as Dae-ho managed to lift his head enough to stare at the back of her.
The masked guards marched in, armed with assault rifles and more bodies. The lead one held his gun up to the sky, shooting a warning shot into the ceiling.
The gunshots rang in his ears like a million bullets were fired inches from him. He curled on himself, rocking still.
“Get down on the floor!” The masked man yelled. The sound of bodies dropping to the floor was somehow worse. Dae-ho thought for a moment that they started open firing on the remaining players.
They were dead all because of that stupid money. Maybe if he hadn’t voted O in the first round they could have gotten out he was so stupid and now he’d shown them just how reliable the Navy soldier Dae-ho was.
The footsteps of the guards came closer, yet Hyun-ju didn’t fall with the others. She reached into his jacket. She pulled out a magazine and reloaded the gun she’d brought.
Dae-ho watched petrified she couldn’t do this they would kill her and this time he would be responsible if he didn’t stop her.
But he couldn’t move. He was stuck in place, in a haze of gunfire and bodies dropping, he felt like he was watching all of it through a television screen, he was yelling at her to stop yet she had no way of hearing him.
Hyun-ju cocked her gun, pointing it forward.
Dae-ho only said “I’m sorry,” to himself like it would change a thing.
Geum-ja was the one who stopped her, she wasn’t useless. She wanted Hyun-ju to live. Dae-ho only listened as she talked Hyun-ju down from her assault. He watched as she set down her assault riffle, he could hear her kick it away and get down on the ground with the rest of them.
He watched like a spectator in his own body.
He couldn’t move, why couldn’t he move.
This was his fault, they would all die because of him.
———
The guards maintained order quickly. They called every player out into the center of the room before patting each of them down.
Dae-ho managed to stand up after some coercion from Hyun-ju. She didn’t look happy with him, just numb to the result. He stared straight ahead as they patted him down, roughly at that. His body moved with them, he felt nothing except exhaustion.
After the examination, they carried out the bodies in wrapped boxes. Everyone stood still, no one said a single word until the blood was mopped up and the beds were righted by a multitude of guards.
“Listen up players,” the head guard announced after they finished, Dae-ho stared on numbly.
“This little resistance is not in line with our goal of equality, if something like this happens again the games may be terminated and the players remaining will be sent home with no winnings, is that clear,” the head guard announced.
“Hey we didn’t have anything to do with those revolutionaries why are we being punished?” Someone asked. Dae-ho recognized the voice but he didn’t recall the name.
“Equality is our core principle and nobody stopped this insurrection so you will all bear the consequences.”
“As stated before voting will commence tomorrow morning before the next game, get some sleep and consider what your actions have led to,” the head guard said coldly. Dae-ho was surprised he and Hyun-ju were left alive, he was sure they saw them on the cameras. Maybe they were being merciful, or perhaps they were simply lucky and happened to end up back in the room as the assault was snuffed out.
Gi-hun and Jung-bae still weren’t back. The same was true for the others who joined him. They were probably dead, Dae-ho had seen the player counter go down even after the bodies were taken out of the room.
“Oh before I leave the frontman offers you one more mercy,” the head guard said. He gestured to some of his lackeys, who swiftly moved to reveal a man held up by two of the men in pink.
“Your leader, let’s hope he doesn’t get anymore ideas,” the head guard said.
Dae-ho held his head up, his numbness shifted to guilt that gnawed his chest. Gi-hun looked uninjured even with the blood all over his jacket and shoes. He hung in their arms like a rag doll despite being awake. He looked down like he’d seen something he couldn’t unsee. Dae-ho understood that much, but his expression was Dae-ho’s fault, he failed him.
The guards stepped into the room, releasing him onto the floor. He sunk to his knees, looking defeated.
“Nightey night, see you tomorrow,” the guard said, a sickly sweet trill to his voice as he ushered them all out of the room. Dae-ho couldn’t tear his eyes off Gi-hun until the doors shut with a clang.
Gi-hun slowly stood up, staring at the players arranged in a large square.
He found Hyun-ju in the crowd, a look of relief briefly crossing his face. He slowly shook his head and that told Dae-ho all he needed to know. Everyone else was dead or soon to be dead. They had failed.
Gi-hun trudged over to one of the beds and sat on it, looking down at his lap. He didn’t look sad, or angry about what happened. He looked like he was feeling nothing. It was like he’d cried his eyes out, sobbed until he couldn’t sob anymore, kicked and screamed until he couldn’t move his body.
The large group that used to be so much larger broke up at that moment. The players slowly broke apart into groups. It wasn’t O’s and X’s this time, it was anyone close to them, anyone, who they recognized in the slightest.
Soft chatter filled the room, hesitant at first until it became louder. They still had a chance to get out, Dae-ho realized, but the issue felt so unimportant when so many people had been brutally shot by the guards or killed by their fellow players.
Dae-ho stood still, he wasn’t sure where to go. He didn’t want to face the people he abandoned, he wanted to stand still and let everyone try again without him. He was too cowardly to help them, he showed that the second he stopped in that bathroom, the glass crunching under his feet and his walkie-talkie falling from his hands.
Dae-ho felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned, Hyun-ju looking at him.
“Dae-ho,” she said.
Dae-ho dropped his head, refusing to look her in the eye.
“I’m-“
“Don’t say it again I heard you earlier,” she said.
“Come on,” she said, releasing him to walk over to where their group gathered before lights out.
Dae-ho trudged behind her, he looked around at everyone conversing, some laughing, others somberly talking or even crying. It wasn’t like they hadn’t seen death before but, something about the results of the lights out felt more brutal, more human.
Hyun-ju took a seat on one of the beds, sighing.
Gi-hun was near them, still looking straight ahead with that dead expression he sometimes had when he wasn’t paying attention. He’d seen things, being a prior winner of the games, Dae-ho knew there were things he wasn’t telling them. Now he knew the reason for that look.
Dae-ho sat on the floor, his back against a metal pole.
“We should have retreated earlier, I take responsibility for our loss,” she said, holding her head up. Of course, she was taking responsibility, she was a former soldier she knew how it worked.
Dae-ho couldn’t work up the courage to speak, let alone take real responsibility for what happened. He was a coward, he deserved to get shot instead of Jung-bae and the others.
“Don’t take the blame it was my fault.” Gi-hun looked up, looking cold.
“I thought the plan would succeed it was foolish when we were outnumbered,” he said.
“And now Jung-Bae is dead because I thought I could save everyone this time.” He sighed like he was holding the weight of hundreds of lives on his shoulders. He probably was, he’d said it himself that he wanted to protect them. It was a shame no one was listening.
“We were ambushed and we ran out of ammo there was nothing to be done, it was a matter of resources,” Hyun-ju justified.
Dae-ho shrunk a little bit.
“It was bound to happen anyways, they were simply stronger this time it was a valiant plan,” she agreed.
“I shouldn’t have bothered, what good is saving them if they want to stay here,” Gi-hun said, angered. He put his head in his hands, shaking it slowly.
Dae-ho watched him, wanting to speak up, this was his fault. Not Gi-hun’s or Hyun-ju’s
“I can’t listen to you two blaming yourselves I know this was my fault!” he said. He stood up, his eyes flickering between the two of them.
“I failed at getting the ammo I caused them to run out and you two to be ambushed, it’s my fault and because of it they're dead,” he despaired.
“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, I couldn’t do it, I failed my commander, I kept us stuck here,” he yelled, his voice breaking from the effort.
He wasn’t sure how else to express it, he wanted them to hear it even if it changed nothing.
Dae-ho dropped to his knees, slowly lowering himself into a bow like all those contestants had after the first game, he meant everything. He couldn’t ask them to forgive him what he’d done was the same as mutiny. Maybe if he was less useless they’d be free from these games and any ones after.
“Dae-ho!” Hyun-ju snapped. Dae-ho froze. He looked up, keeping his body low.
“You were not solely responsible for what happened,” she said forcefully.
“Even with the extra ammo we would not have held out forever, I don’t think we had enough forces, this loss is not only on your shoulders,” she said.
“We weren’t going to win, the game maker knew too much about our whereabouts, it was a foolish plan,” Gi-hun said, almost ignoring Dae-ho entirely.
“Extra ammo would only give us extra time, and extra bodies added to the pile,” Gi-hun said. He looked away from them, a lost look still in his eyes.
Hyun-ju nodded. “He’s right Dae-ho I’m not sure what happened to you but if I hadn’t retreated when I did we would all be dead and they would all be stuck here. It had to end like this.” She sounded like she didn’t fully believe it herself.
They were making progress until they ran out of magazines. Dae-ho still felt guilty.
It didn’t matter what he felt he had to snap out of his funk if he wanted to survive whatever the gamemaker had next for them.
Did he want to survive the next round?
He wasn’t sure.
Dae-ho sat up, bringing his knees to his chest. He laid his head against them in the contemporary silence that filled the room.
He felt thoroughly exhausted, they all did.
That was called defeat.
Dae-ho didn’t see the feeling changing in any of them.
———
The beds were thin mattresses, some people stacked multiple on top of each other in the hope of getting a good night's sleep. Some of the mattresses were covered in blood, and thrown on the floor in the chaos, that still didn’t stop people from taking them.
Dae-ho took a bed on the lower rack, he bundled up in a blanket with his eyes shut. He hadn’t gotten a good night's sleep in a couple of days. He often had nightmares that kept him awake, or he felt constant alertness like someone would jump out and stab him in the chest with a glass bottle.
No one attacked anyone then, they were worn out from all the earlier bloodshed.
Dae-ho was scared for what the next day held. They would vote again, then probably play another game where even more of them would die.
How could he have voted for this to continue, it was foolish. He didn’t even want the money, he just wanted to go home. Fuck his debts he couldn’t do this anymore.
If they voted to end the games now they would all still get a chunk of the money, more now that all those people died.
Include Jung-bae. He would be taking home all that blood money. Dae-ho felt disgusted with himself. It was easy to distance himself from it before he watched one of them die right in front of him.
Those who died were braver than him.
Dae-so opened his eyes. He couldn’t sleep, it wasn’t a good idea with all the new nightmares he had to dream about.
He rubbed his eyes, looking around. The lights were dim but not completely dark. Most of the remaining players were either asleep in groups or keeping watch. Dae-ho had seen Gi-hun sit near the front of the group, staring straight ahead at the others with nothing in his eyes.
He always volunteered to take watch, it didn’t look like he slept much. Dae-ho sometimes wondered why he was here. He had told them it was to save all of them but, he didn’t look very sure now. He looked regretful. He’d been through more than Dae-ho could attest to. Yet he was the coward who hid instead of going down fighting.
Gi-hun was gone from his spot now, others were sitting up keeping watch. It was silent. He moved, dropping down onto the tile. A million emotions ran through him, fear, anger, disgust, then guilt. He couldn’t stand it. Dae-ho licked his lips, feeling the dry skin and tasting blood on them. His face was still covered in it from scavenging the bodies and watching that man’s brain get blown out next to him.
He needed to wipe it off, he didn’t want the reminder on him.
“Dae-ho? Where are you going?” Hyun-ju asked. She was sleeping near him, but never truly resting.
“Bathroom,” he said. He swallowed thickly, wiping the sweat off his brow. It was always hot in the room, no matter what he did.
“Will you be okay alone?” she asked genuinely.
“I can take care of myself,” he said defensively.
She looked at him, with something atone to empathy, before nodding.
“Okay be safe, we aren’t losing anyone else before the vote tomorrow she said.
He nodded, smiling at her, and slinking away from the group. They sometimes restricted bathroom access at night but, the light was on and the window was open so he assumed he was fine to leave. Maybe the guards got scared of them, just a little bit, so they didn’t test things.
They still held all the power but, for a moment he’d felt like there’d been a chance for them all to leave.
Instead more than half of them died.
Dae-ho sighed. He walked up to the door, staring down the guard behind it.
He didn’t have to say anything. The guard opened the door without a word. Dae-ho felt the guard's eyes on him as he walked to the bathroom. He doubted it was the blood that painted his face and hands. It was his participation in their slaughter.
Dae-ho didn’t feel guilty about that, he refused to. The guards were doing this to them, other people were doing these things to them and didn’t feel a shred of empathy.
Dae-ho pushed the door open. He stepped into the bathroom, finding a mirror. He turned the faucet, staring at himself as he scrubbed the blood off with his hand. It was dried, and probably stuck but he kept rubbing. It was all over his face, on his cheeks, on his forehead, under his eyes. He splashed water on himself, desperate to get it off of him.
It might as well have been Jung-bae’s he’d done this it was a reminder, wasn’t it? He couldn’t stop feeling so damn guilty for it.
“Fuck!” he yelled, continuing to scrub. It wasn’t coming off.
“Dammit!” he exclaimed. He couldn’t get it it wasn’t coming off, fuck. He needed it off, then he could try to sleep and maybe die tomorrow.
He inhaled deeply, water dripping down his face.
Then he went back to scrubbing.
He didn’t stop until his face felt red and raw. He blinked the water off his eyelashes. He glanced up, his face was clean, the redness of his skin was the reason for the pain.
He exhaled, his breath shaking. His hands shook too. He was clean now, it was off.
He didn’t feel much better.
Was he supposed to? It had been hours, barely, since what happened
Dae-ho shut off the faucet, he grabbed a couple of towels and dried himself off.
He nearly took off when he heard the familiar sound of a stall opening behind him. Dae-ho turned around.
It was Gi-hun. He came out of the last stall, an angry expression on his face. His eyes were glistening, and his hands were balled, his knuckles bleeding onto the ground. Nobody else came out after him. He didn’t acknowledge Dae-ho at first, he started washing his hands. The blood ran down the sink drain slowly. The wounds looked fresh.
“Gi-hun, are you okay?” Dae-ho asked.
He stood by awkwardly, unsure if he would get an answer.
“Why wouldn’t I be,” he said so nonchalantly Dae-ho wouldn’t have predicted his next thought.
“He killed another person I cared about and I failed my plan and got more people killed in his sick game,” Gi-hun spit out. He looked ready to punch something. He glanced at the mirror, only shaking his head and rinsing his hands again.
“I could have gotten to him, I should have planned better, he killed him because of me because I thought…”Gi-hun faltered.
“Because I thought I could save them,” Gi-hun said. His words were normally paced yet full of rage. Dae-ho had never seen Gi-hun angry before, at least not openly. It wasn’t like he’d known the man longer than a couple of days but, he trusted him with his life.
“You can’t save everybody, not when so many of them still want more money,” Dae-ho said.
Gi-hun shook his head, mumbling something fueled.
“This game was supposed to end, and all of us were supposed to survive now Jung-bae is dead,” Gi-hun said.
“And it’s all your fault,” Dae-ho expected from him. He said nothing of the sort, he just stared in the mirror with the look of a truly broken man.
“Would you like to keep watch with me tonight?” Gi-hun asked without turning his head.
“Sur…uh sure” Dae-ho stammered, startled that he would even offer.
“My one requirement is that you forget my plan tonight, if we are to survive we need to keep sharp.”
“Before, my resolve was weakened but, now I do not doubt it. I will kill the game maker and no one else will die tomorrow when the next game happens,” Gi-hun said.
“When the next game happens?” Dae-ho questioned.
“I counted the O’s and the X’s while I watched, we are at a disadvantage,” he said. He turned towards him, a look Dae-ho recognized similar to his own stared back at him.
“There’s no reason to play by their rules anymore, I will find a way to beat this game with everybody, for Jung-bae,” he said. He closed his eyes. He inhaled, then exhaled slowly.
“He would be proud of what you tried to do Dae-ho, his death wasn’t in vain,” he comforted. He patted him on the shoulder, whispering it again for added measures.
Dae-ho wasn’t sure either of them believed it.
Dae-ho slowly raised his hand, giving Jung-bae a salute.
It didn’t feel deserving coming from someone like him.
Gi-hun released his shoulder. He moved past him, out the door without another word.
Dae-ho turned around, shaking his head slowly.
He didn’t believe Gi-hun’s words, even if he wanted to.
Gi-hun was tired he’d come to his senses in the morning. Right?
The guilt gnawed at him once more. He hadn’t realized it disappeared. Maybe Jung-bae was taking pity on him from the afterlife. Or maybe there was no god or gods and he was alone.
Dae-ho followed Gi-hun, out of the empty bathroom.
He left wondering how to make the guilt go away if he would live another day, if he would ever see his sisters and his mom again.
Dae-ho prayed for the first time in a long time.
He wondered if anyone could hear him.
If nobody had saved them yet would they ever?
Dae-ho wished he had manned up and grabbed the magazines.
He was a coward, yet he pushed forward.
If he didn’t then what was the point of their deaths, he couldn’t watch anyone else die, like Gi-hun said.
They were getting out of here tomorrow, even if it cost Dae-ho his own life.