Chapter 1 The Room With No Doors

• Niko shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying not to let the pressure show on his face. He hadn’t told anyone why he’d really come here. Not even the full truth to himself. The promise of three million dollars was too good to ignore especially when the bills kept piling up and the calls never stopped. His wife had found the flyer tucked into an obscure forum online. “One shot,” she had whispered to him that night, her eyes dark with something he couldn’t name. “Just win. That’s all you have to do.” He hadn’t asked too many questions. He couldn’t afford to. Now here he was surrounded by strangers, playing a game he didn’t understand, with stakes far higher than anyone seemed to realize.
• The first thing Niko noticed was the silence.
• It wasn’t the kind that settles in during the dead of night or fills an empty hallway. This silence was too perfect unnatural. He opened his eyes to a dim, colorless room. Concrete walls. No windows. No doors. Just eight metal chairs scattered in a wide circle, each occupied by someone else just waking up.
• He sat upright on his chair, spine tense. His heart kicked against his ribs as he scanned the others. Eight of them in total. Including him.
• “What the hell…” someone muttered a red-haired guy with a nose ring and a hoodie stained with something dark.
• A girl in a nurse’s uniform stood quickly, eyes darting around. “Where are we? Is this a hospital?”
• “No hospital looks like this,” a man with thick glasses said, rubbing his temple. “There are no doors.”
• They started murmuring, talking over each other. Fear, confusion, panic. But Niko stayed quiet. He didn’t like noise. It got in the way of clarity.
• “Okay okay, hold on!” a girl with tight curls said, raising both hands. “I don’t know where the hell we are, but maybe we should start with introductions? You know, like humans?”
• That actually got everyone to pause.
• The redhead scoffed. “Sure. Let’s all be friends before we die.”
• Still, the girl gave a nervous smile. “I’m Ivy. Twenty-one. Student.”
• A guy with tattoos up to his neck leaned back in his chair. “Grant. I fix bikes. Thirty-one.”
• The girl in scrubs exhaled. “Rhea. Paramedic.”
• A woman with cold eyes crossed her arms. “Diana. Writer.”
• A young man with wire framed glasses hesitated. “Benji. Intern… I think.”
• An older guy in construction boots simply said, “Thomas.”
• Then all eyes turned to Niko.
• He leaned forward slightly, elbows on knees, voice low and steady. “Niko. Twenty-eight. Doesn’t matter what I do.”
• That left one.
• The final man smiled with surprising calm. “Marcus. Paramedic too. Same shift as Rhea, I think.”
• Rhea blinked. “I’ve… never seen you before.”
• Before Marcus could reply, the overhead lights flickered. The walls began to vibrate, and a low hum filled the room.
• Then, a female voice smooth, digitized spoke from nowhere and everywhere.
• “Welcome, Players. This is Puzzle House.”
• Everyone froze.
• “You’ve each been selected to participate in a survival sequence. Eight players. Eight lives. Eight chances to make it out alive.”
• “What the hell is this?” Diana snapped.
• “You will face a series of games. Each one will test your logic, your trust… and your will to survive. Failure to complete a task will result in elimination.”
• “Elimination?” Benji whispered. “You mean death?”
• No answer.
• “But there’s a twist.”
• The lights dimmed to blood red. A pause. Then the voice returned, colder.
• “One of you is not here to survive. One of you is working with us.”
• Gasps broke out. Niko’s gaze flicked from face to face, scanning their reactions. Fear. Shock. Confusion. All real.
• All except one.
• He narrowed his eyes. Someone in this room was a liar.
• “Begin Game One.”
• A loud click sounded, and a section of the floor slid open, revealing a spiral staircase descending into shadows.
• “Your first puzzle awaits below.”
• Silence again.
• Then Ivy stepped back. “Oh God. This is real.”
• Grant was already moving. “We don’t have time to argue. We go, or we die.”
• But Niko lingered. His jaw clenched as he watched Marcus help Rhea to her feet, flashing a polite smile.
• Something about it was too polished. Too practiced.
• He didn’t know what this game was, or who was behind it. But one thing was certain:
• Trust no one.