I explain my trip to the voting palace after-hours with Telly and Ernie, seeing a glint of gold waiting for me on the second floor’s roof, climbing a ladder (courtesy of Ernie) to the second floor, reading the rules, seeing Cieze’s attempts at tampering, meeting him, him showing me the way to get down, pressuring me to jump a distance that had a decent chance of killing me, and putting a hand on my back too firmly to be safe. Of course, I survived and made the jump.
At this point, Telly chimes in for a detail that I forgot. “I bet the cat’s out of the bag already, since Cieze got a good look,” Telly said, with her wry smile, “but the game’s messed Sammy up more than just having a blank name on the results screen. They’re also vulnerable. Stepping on a screw drew blood, and that’s what Cieze saw.”
Cieze has no rejoinder, and is suddenly very interested in the top surface of his booth.
“Cieze, is this true?” Fark asks.
He mumbles.
“Cieze? Speak up,” Fark says.
“You’ve got it all wrong,” he says. “The way you’re seeing that whole situation, that’s not it. I didn’t see a thing about being vulnerable. If I’da known that, I wouldn’t have asked you to jump. I thought I was just showing you a shortcut instead of Ernie’s ladder. I figured you were spooked of heights, so I gave you a little nudge to show that if you fell, it wouldn’t have hurt you.”
“Too convenient,” I say.
Ernie grunts. Fark turns to him.
“Ernie, did his push look malicious to you?” Fark asks.
“I didn’t see it, personally.”
Telly shakes her head. “We were inside the palace the whole time that happened.”
More voices from the peanut gallery come in while I’m stewing on Cieze’s flimsy justification for his assassination attempt.
“Should I bring you some bandages, Sammy? It’s sad to stay hurt by stubbing your toe,” Orbora offers. “I find a box of them every two months.”
“That’d be nice,” I say.
“Wonderful,” North says, and shakes his beard. “Telly? If I might add, please don’t share others’ secrets so readily.”
“Will do, heheh,” Telly answers, and nods. She never mentioned the part where I can hurt others. I’ve only played Shamus with Ernie, but his poker face is better than he let on.
“So this is just a he-said-they-said, isn’t it?” Fark says, while Adol keeps looking back and forth, back and forth, between everyone. Her drawn-on face never needs to blink. “Cieze, that was suspicious. Don’t do that again.”
“I won’t.”
“Any protest votes for Cieze or Sammy?” Fark continues.
Ernie’s box lights up, and he puts a hand on his hip. “I believe Sammy and I’m voting for Cieze.” Thank you. Finally someone believes me. My teeth hurt from the pressure of my clenched jaw. There’s a room full of people dismissing my attacker, like a good old boys’ club, and only one person with the courage to believe the victim...
“Hear that, Cieze? That’s a person saying in formal rules that they think you should be voted dead,” Fark says, looking towards the sad, small golden man. Then, Fark stares down Ernie.
“It’s just a protest vote,” Ernie says, before Fark has any comments, and blows a strand of stone hair in front of his eyes. His hair moves; Orbora’s doesn’t. “When did those become a big deal?”
Fark splays the tips of his fingers over his face. “They’ve always been,” Fark says. “But now we have an actual good chance that someone is voted dead, with Sammy in the game. We’ve been having a protest vote every once in a while, but you have to be serious when not everyone is going to vote No Death.”
Ernie nods, but his face is unmoved and unimpressed. “Noted. Pass.”
Magnolia hasn’t said anything all election, watching. Her arms are folded over her chest, and her attention is on Cieze. I still can’t look directly at those ultra-bright eyes. I speak up again.
“I’m confident that Cieze is the Adversary,” I begin. “The second floor of the voting palace is a hard-to-get-to place that he’d know for sure that I’d be visiting soon, so of course the Adversary would just casually be hanging around there the whole time and have some flat excuse about trying to change the rules up there. That’s why the infills and the scratches on the tablets were so bad. He just had to bail out when Ernie and Telly were both there too, but then he saw my bleeding toe and tried to push me off the roof ‘by accident’. It’d be so easy for him if he could get the game back to where it was a few days ago.” I cross my arms, too. “Everything about this is fishy. It’s him.”
“Um...” Orbora says, idly tracing along her collarbone with one finger. “I like that you’re trying to think through all this. But...he likes to be there. Cieze visits the second floor every few days, and that started a long time before we all said hello to you.” Pause. “Are you sure that being easily-harmed makes you the first one to go? If something bad happens to you and the Adversary uses their blade on someone else at the same time, the Adversary gets free progress and it’s really bad. It makes the second-most sense to leave you for last, not first.”
“And what makes the first most sense?” I ask, leaning in, eyes narrowed.
“That no one hurts anyone and we all get along some more.” She smiles.
“See,” Telly speaks up, “Orbora gets it.”
“I don’t mean harm to anyone,” Cieze says, his voice meek. “Give me a chance.”
Telly’s indicator lights up in green. North hums to himself as he reaches into his booth, and his button lights up too. Adol’s face fixes on the two of them as they cast their votes in sequence.
“Everyone slow down on the votes, please,” Fark says. “Can we agree to talk this out during the next election? I say we keep Cieze and Sammy far away from each other.”
No, no no no they’re just ignoring me. “I can’t let you just push this off. Figure out whether you believe me or don’t; don’t just not care whether it happened! That’s worse than either option. It tells me you don’t care about me as a person.” Ernie and Telly exchange glances. Orbora makes a heart-hands gesture to me.
Fark mimes a cough into his open fist. “Well—”
“I have some questions,” rejoins a deep, womanly voice.
Everyone turns to Magnolia. Those are the first words she’s said, and her head slowly tilts up, to eye level. I’m forced to avert my eyes. Cieze gulps.
“Why are you taking so long,” she says, her voice flat, like it’s not even a question. “You told me about your project, changing the rules.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
He nods.
“This has been going on for months, Cieze. Sammy, how much of his gold did you see upstairs?”
“A lot. All of the tablets that weren’t core rules had at least something on them, plus a little on the one that said ‘you can leave when the Adversary dies’,” I explain, remembering a few golden flecks around the engraved words.
“Yeah, exactly. Cieze. I think you’re not being clear about what you’re trying to do around here.”
“He’s probably trying to change the rules to get an advantage as the Adversary,” I spit.
Orbora shakes her head. “That would be a good strategy! But a better one would be to change the rules so we can all leave immediately...”
“None of that matters,” Magnolia says, with an overdramatic wave of her hand, ending with her arm fully extended and way behind her. “Whatever it is you’re doing, you’re not telling me it! So why should any of us believe you over Sammy when your story sucks?”
Cieze’s eyes twinkle in a newer, even more liquid way. Is he starting to cry? “Magnolia...”
“And add onto that, you jumped on the chance to vote Sammy yesterday so fast. Do you get how hard I’m trying to not make weird mistakes? Why aren’t you?”
He wipes his eye. Magnolia’s voice, once raised a moment ago, now fades in the echoes.
“Magnolia, I’ve been trying to change the rules. And it didn’t work. I filled in the text that said the Adversary has to die before we can go; I did the best I could, and it didn’t do anything.” He takes small breaths. “So I’ve been practicing. I was hoping, well, maybe I just didn’t fill it in right. Maybe the infill has to be perfectly flat, like the rest of the tablet. I just didn’t...want to tell you it wasn’t working. I thought if I just did better, I wouldn’t fail you.”
Magnolia’s stance softens—her shoulders droop, her feet drift closer together, and her head tilts to her chest. Her arms dangle free at her sides.
“I’m sorry, Magnolia.”
“Is that really how I make you feel?”
“Maybe.”
“Fuck.”
Everyone goes quiet. I don’t actually know anything about these people, just that Cieze needs to go.
“No Death,” Orbora says, reaching into her booth, and her screen lights up.
Magnolia silently votes.
“…No Death,” I sigh. Fine.
I put my hands into the box, hiding them from everyone’s view. As with everyone else, Adol’s eyes go on me. I stare at the screens.
“It’s the tenth button to cause No Death!” Adol explains.
“Thanks.” I already knew that, but, thanks. I keep staring.
I want Cieze gone. I want Cieze gone. I can’t let him get away with trying to kill me. Why does no one believe me? I consider lying. I said ‘no death’, but I could just vote Cieze anyway. Would I get away with it? Others voted without explaining...
“You alright, Sammy?” Telly asks.
“No,” I answer.
Orbora gives a sad, sympathetic coo. “Sammy?”
“Yes?” I say, without looking.
“I’m sorry that it happened to you. I know that it’s what you felt, and it’s what happened in your eyes. I also know that Cieze isn’t a malevolent man. You experienced a misfortune, but we can make you happy again.”
I sigh. My eyes remained fixed on the screens. The room pipes down for a solid minute, while I think, and I still can’t decide how to vote.
I look towards Fark and Adol. Maybe my vote won’t matter. Adol’s eyes remain locked dead on mine. Why is she staring? She finally turns away—to Fark. “I think! I think I’ll protest Cieze.”
“Two protest votes, darling? Fine as that is, I’m calling for No Death,” he answers, cocking his head.
Adol pouts hard. “We vote together! Fark and Adol, the team!”
“I know honey, I know.”
“The team, Fark!” She tugs on his shoulder. He chuckles and hugs around hers.
“They always make me smile,” North chimes in, with a wistful sigh.
Fark nods. “Adol, three protest votes on the same person is dangerous. Too dangerous.”
“But does he deserve only one?” She tilts her head.
“I don’t freakin’ know.” He sighs. “I’m not comfortable putting him to the edge of majority vote. That’d be three to six.”
“Three to five to one, actually,” Cieze creaks. “Three votes for me. One vote for Sammy. Only five for No Death. Don’t do this to me.”
Adol zips her hands into her booth, and her rectangle lights up. “Two! That’s two, and it must be three now!”
“Adol, do not...” Fark smiles and shakes his head. “Well. Now I have to, don’t I?”
“Fark, please...” Cieze whimpers.
“You’ll be fine,” Fark says. “Even if the Adversary betrays us, four to four to one is still No Death.”
“Do you love her enough to take that chance with my life?” Cieze asks, his fingers together.
Adol pinches Fark. Fark sighs. “You’re. Gonna. Be. Fine.” His hand slips into his booth, and his vote is cast.
I’m the only one left. All eyes go on me. The order of people I could vote for is at my left fingertips.
Orbora. Fark.
North. Ernie.
Cieze. Telly.
Adol. Magnolia.
Sammy. No Death.
Screw that contemptible groveling. I strike Cieze’s button with my left hand and my right rests on the palm-sized button—as soon as I press this, my vote is cast. My feelings become 1/9th of a power over life and death. I choose retribution. My rectangle lights up.
I don’t turn away, this time. Everyone looks upon the screens, all except for Adol, who has gone back to watching me—there’s more determination, more intent, in her eyes. And finally, she turns to the blackness, the black televisions, loading up their results.
They boot, in a gray background and red text:
Day 999
1 – Error in line 761: Players[9].name(): index out of bounds
3 – No Death
1 – Abstain (Present)
4 – Cieze
Orbora gasps like she hasn’t breathed in weeks; there’s a clank of metal as Ernie’s knuckles hit his booth. Telly leans in, eyes wide. North is in shock. Cieze goes rigid, his hand at his chest, eyes jittering and his breath picking up.
“Who the fuck abstained!?” Fark calls out. “Who the fuck gave the fourth vote?”
“So...” Magnolia says, looking around the room. “What actually happens?”
“Good…that’s a good one, a question,” Adol whispers.
“If we’re expected to kill him by our own hands,” Ernie says, his voice rising and his hands tightening on the edge of his booth, “Then that’s not happening. I’m not letting anyone touch him.”
“Didn’t you vote for him?” Fark says, pointing a finger.
“I told you it was a protest vote, so why don’t—”
A blast of heat erupts from Cieze, like a column of molten steel—in this moment, his aura of natural flame is a conflagration, and his face is contorting into a melting, boiling scream. “SAVE ME, SAVE—HELP!” he cries as he liquefies, in the few seconds until his boiling tongue takes away all semblance of speech. Orbora and Magnolia jump on him, fast as a blink, with Orbora hugging around his disintegrating form to smother the flames and Magnolia following suit, but it’s too late. I raise my arm and lean away, shielding myself from the inferno; even his voting booth is going up in marigold flames within the blue-white ones making up his body—no, his corpse. The screams of his body become the mere hissing of gases escaping from what was once his lungs, a jet of fire that flows from his mouth like a geyser. The glob of gold melts down, into smoke, into noxious fumes that send me coughing, trying not to inhale the remnants of his shirt. Aerosolized soot and ash darkens the booth and the the surrounding few feet, covering Magnolia in cinders and Orbora in yet more jet-blackness, until, until, after fifteen seconds of the screams of a dying man that became screams of a dead man...there’s nothing.
Nothing left of him, but the ashes at Orbora and Magnolia’s feet. But a few droplets of gold that splattered in his vicinity. But his sizzling voting booth.
North wails in tears.
