I crash to the ground with Lotan's arms around my head, shielding me from harm. But I can hear it. I can't escape the sound of it. There is a bang that echoes around the chamber walls, a bang so loud and heart-pounding that it's uncertain what kind of device has been set off. The noise creates a buzzing in my eardrum, it is now the only sound that can be heard.

For a few seconds, the floor is the only safety net. Being in Lotan's arms, folding to his experienced survival instincts, it gives me the hope that things aren't as bad as they seem. 

And then reality comes crashing back. 

I take hollow breaths as Lotan moves his arm, and I peer up to see Jake pacing back and forth in front of the benches.

"What do you want!" he screams. "What do you want from us!"

My eyes scan across the benches, meeting the still and expressionless faces in return. I see Rachael hugging Louis close to her, he's still alive. I push myself backwards as I stare across the room towards Amy's lifeless body which is surrounded by a pool of blood--half of her brains scattered across the floor.

I turn around so I'm on my knees, and I hold my mouth as bile begins to rise up my throat. The room is filled with terror, cries and cold silence; but I'm the only one reacting as though what I've just seen cannot be stomached. 

They're all scared for their own lives. Not their loved ones. None of us want to die like that, they'd rather be branded selfish. 

Lotan pats me on the back. "It's okay if you need to throw up."

"I'm okay," I lie, turning back around with a deep breath. 

"Dad, will you just sit down!" Travis yells to Jake. "They're not going to answer you."

"What happens now?" Lily says from the floor in front of the cubes. The sisters are still sat there, not daring to move. 

No one answers her.

"They're going to make it so that two of us die in each round," Lotan whispers. "It's an elimination game."

"We're not getting out of here alive, are we?" 

"Look at me," he says. I drag my eyes to meet his. "I'm going to get us out of here, okay? I promise."

"Don't," I mutter. "This isn't a promise about showing up for a meal or remembering to go to the supermarket, Lotan. If we remain as watchers we might stand a chance, but sooner or later we're going to have to be players and I can't. . . I can't kill someone." 

"It depends who else is playing with us," he whispers. 

"This is easy for you," I say. "You're used to killing people."

"Where did that come from?" 

I rub my temple, sighing. "I'm sorry."

"So, because I'm a marine I'm a cold-blooded killer? Is that what you're saying? Is that what you think of me?"

"Just drop it, please. I'm sorry. Of course it's not. I'm just confused right now."

"Obviously."

"The first round is over," the voice says as it returns. "Amy has chosen to sacrifice her life, congratulations to Louis, you are safe until the final round. The second round is about to begin, and the stakes are getting higher. Who will be a player? Who will be a watcher? Who will be made loveless? You're about to find out."

The far wall starts to slide open, revealing another gap for a person to fit through. We all just stare at it, bearing no energy to move, which angers the voice.

"Participants are to be reminded that you have already been shocked once. Each time you receive a shock, your spine becomes less mobile. Unless you would like to become paralyzed, I suggest you move."

"Screw this," Lily says, before pulling her sister to her feet and dragging her towards the gap, flanked by the others. 

Lotan and I are the last to walk through. Before I once again enter the darkness, I turn around one last time to glimpse the horror of the room. I haven't been afraid of the dark since I was a child. But as I grew older, I realized it wasn't the dark I was actually scared of, for all I had to do was switch on the light--what truly scared me, was knowing that the dark meant I was alone.

This time I'm not alone. We're all in the same situation together. And whether we're scared, anxious, frantic or pushed to the edge of madness; it's got be better than being alone.

The next chamber is identical to the last. Hundreds of candles, rows of benches, speakers placed around the ceiling, four stone walls that show no sign of any exit. The only difference is that this chamber doesn't have two cubes, it has two giant square holes covered with a plastic sheet. In the corner is the stand with another white box, specifically placed for one person to make the same decision as Amy. 

"I will now call the names of the watchers, and you are to take a seat at the benches," the voice says. "Rachael and Louis. Lily and Bethany. Cassidy and Lotan."

I take a breath of relief, which is quickly replaced by guilt as I see Brendon's young daughter standing next to him with stultifying fear in her face. In that moment, in that second, whether she's a stranger or not, I would take her place.

"Travis and Hailey, you should both go and stand in front of one of the sheets."

"What are you doing?" Jake demands. 

"She's twelve!" Brendon screams. "She doesn't have a mother, I'm all she has, please!"

I glance across the bench to see Rachael once again cradling her son in the exact same position as before, and just for a second; I swear I see her smirk. Her blue eyes meet my green with sudden panic, and then she twists her lips into a sad smile.

Brendon and Jake hold their children for what might be the last time, before they let them go. Once they're in position, the voice returns.

"Jake and Brendon, in front of you are two chairs and two trolleys covered with a sheet. Take the seat that reveals your name at the bottom."

"Sick fucks!" Jake squeals as he ploughs into the seat, almost knocking the wheels off. 

Suddenly, the sheets covering the holes are removed with a wire. Hailey takes a look down and covers her mouth with a scream, while Travis just stares, his eyes getting wider and wider.

"Hailey and Travis," the voice says. "Before you are two snake pits, both filled with over one thousand snakes of almost every species. One bite may be harmless, one bite may kill you, one python may crush you, another might eat you; that's uncertain. What is certain is that you will both be spending time in the snake pit. But how much time you spend in there depends on your fathers. Jake and Brendon, remove the sheet in front of you."

They both remove the sheets at the same time, revealing a metal trolley that contains a variety of objects. 

"Brendon, as a doctor you probably recognize some of these tools. Although, maybe not, because they're more specifically used for dentists. Using any of the tools provided, and the mirror, you must extract six of your teeth. But don't dawdle, because you're being timed, and however long it takes you to do it, will be the same amount of time your daughter has to spend in the snake pit. Will it be one minute, five minutes, or ten minutes? How quickly can you extract your teeth for your daughter's life, Brendon?"

Brendon reaches over the trolley and picks up an object, he stares at in silence, his hand clenching around the plyer. 

"Jake," the voice says. "On your trolley there is only one object. A blade. Using this blade, you must remove every finger of your left hand. Like Brendon, you are being timed, so use the time wisely. For every second you waste, your son will have to endure it inside the snake pit. Don't worry, I sharpened the blade for you."

Jake twists his head to look at Brendon. "Will that kill me?"

"Not if you contain the blood loss."

"Players, be reminded that if you should pass out from the pain at any time, the time you are unconscious counts as time inside the snake pit. Watchers, you are permitted to encourage the players, but you cannot intervene. How far will you go for your children, players? More specifically, how fast will you go for your children? Your time starts when the clocks appear. Good luck."

"I don't think I can watch this," Bethany says, her throat beginning to gag.

"Dad. I'm scared," Hailey whimpers.

"It'll be okay," Brendon says, as he picks up a mirror to his mouth and holds a plyer to his tooth. 

Both Brendon and Jake ready themselves, their eyes staring up at the wall, waiting for the clocks. My hand entwines with Lotan's as my knee shakes uncontrollably. Is it selfish for me to feel scared? I'm not the one about to cut my fingers off or walk into a pit full of a thousand snakes. If this is just the second round, then what awaits me and Lotan? What would our test be? 

Would I extract six teeth for him? Yes. Would I remove my fingers? Yes. But that's just a choice. Brendon and Jake are doing it under pressure. I don't know how long it'd take me to do it, twenty minutes? An hour? I don't know. They've got seconds if they want their children to survive. 

Whoever is doing this, whoever is watching, they're enjoying this. They've trapped us with the implants and they've planned a game that no one can beat. We can't run because where would we run to? We can't fight because who would we fight? We can't refuse because they could paralyze us within a moment. As an architect, my job is to design houses. I know walls, I know stone, and I know layout. This is a layout I've never come across before. There are no leaks in the roof, there is no water on the ground, there is no air coming through any gaps. Yet, the stone is deteriorating and the noises are vibrating through the walls. There could be hundreds of chambers down here. 

Is it possible there are cameras in every one of them? 

"What's taking so long!" Jake screams.

"I think I have an idea," Lotan whispers.

I turn to look at him sharply. "What?"

"In the last round, after Eddie died, they didn't speak for a while. Why?"

"Bathroom break? I don't know."

"No," he says. "It's like they were discussing on what will happen next. Or preparing the next chamber. Either way, what if it gave us a window where we weren't being watched?"

"What are you getting at?"

"After this game ends, if someone dies, or doesn't die, they might give us that window again. And they're leaving us in a room with sharp objects."

"I don't get it," I whisper. "Are you suggesting we threaten to kill ourselves? They said if we attempt to commit suicide our loved one will-"

"I know," he mutters. "You're not listening to me. I'm not suggesting we kill ourselves, I'm suggesting we-"

A klaxon suddenly sounds, cutting off the end of Lotan's sentence, as we both stare at the digital clocks projected on the walls behind Hailey and Travis. They begin at zero and count up, and then all I hear, and all I see, is chaos.