The Stranger’s Invitation

They awoke in silence.

Not the kind that hums in the background or dances with distant noises. This silence was whole—swallowing, suffocating, complete.

The room was vast and black, with smooth floors that reflected nothing, and walls that curved inward like the inside of a dome. No visible doors. No beds. No mirrors. Only a single silver platform in the center, lit from above by a white spotlight.

Lina sat up slowly, rubbing her temples. One by one, the others stirred—Haider, Saira, Zayan, Areeba. No one spoke. Something about the air warned them not to.

Then it returned.

That voice.

That cold, inhuman voice that sounded neither male nor female, neither young nor old. Just... mechanical and final.

> "You have made it further than most."

> "But this game cannot be abandoned."

A low vibration rumbled through the floor. The silence cracked as the ground beneath each player glowed faintly.

> "From this point forward, there are no exits. No votes. No turning back."

As if on cue, the black wall behind each player shimmered. Two doors appeared—one bathed in red light, the other in white.

> "Door One is the Door of Fear. Step through it, and you will face what you fear most. Alone. Without guidance. Without mercy."

> "Survive… and you may continue."

A breathless pause.

> "Door Two is the Door of Sacrifice. Enter it, and your game ends here. You will not be harmed. You will not be remembered. But your family will be compensated richly for your choice."

Zayan stiffened. His lips parted slightly.

> "One door will break your spirit. The other will erase your name. Choose wisely."

The voice paused. Then, it spoke the last line slower, heavier.

> "And know this: If all of you choose Fear… the next trials will become crueler."

The lights flickered and dimmed. Each player found themselves lit only by a spotlight from above. All other faces disappeared into shadows. No one could speak to the other. They were alone.

Truly alone.

---

Lina's heart pounded in her chest. Sweat formed on her palms. She turned, staring at the doors behind her.

The white door was still. Serene. A way out.

The red door flickered slightly—like it was breathing, waiting.

She thought of her brother. His laugh. The promise she'd whispered to herself when the game began: You're not leaving until you know why this place exists.

If she took the white door, she'd get answers—but only in the form of silence.

The red one? That held the real truth. But it came at a cost.

Her fingers shook as she reached out—slowly, deliberately—and touched the red handle.

The door pulsed warmly beneath her hand.

She stepped inside.

---

Haider stood with his fists clenched.

The white door was tempting. Too tempting. He imagined stepping through it and waking up in his bed, hearing his mother's voice calling him from the kitchen.

But then he remembered the look on Tariq's face when he vanished.

No. He wouldn't leave like that.

If fear was what stood in the way, then fear would be eaten.

He faced the red door—and walked in.

---

Saira trembled.

She thought of the mirror room. Of Iqbal's face as he dropped. Of the silence that followed.

The white door promised peace.

But what if peace wasn't what she deserved?

What if this was about more than surviving?

Maybe it was about redemption.

She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped into the red.

---

Areeba felt frozen.

Her mind ran wild with everything the red door might contain. The worst version of herself. Something from her past. A fear she didn't even remember.

The white door glowed like a portal to safety. Her hands moved toward it.

But then she remembered the sound of Sameena screaming. The hunger in the game's voice. The cruelty that watched their every move.

She wouldn't be another pawn. Not another casualty. She had to know what came next.

She turned away from the white door—and entered the red.

---

Zayan sat cross-legged on the floor.

He didn't move for a long time.

He just listened—to the silence, to the pounding in his ears, to the warning the voice had left behind: If you all choose fear, the next trial will be worse.

He chuckled softly.

"Of course it will."

This place didn't reward courage. It punished it.

And yet, he stood. Slowly. Steadily.

He walked up to the red door, rested his hand against the wood, and whispered, "Let's see what you've got."

Then he disappeared into it.

---

Once the last door closed, the spotlight vanished.

The silver platform in the middle of the room began to hum, rising ever so slightly.

The voice returned—no longer calm. It sounded… curious.

> "You have all chosen suffering."

> "Very well."

A sound echoed across the chamber—like a thousand locks turning at once.

> "Behind those doors lie not riddles. Not traps. Not puzzles."

> "Only your reflection. Distorted. Real. And cruel."

> "Face it. Survive it. Or fall."

The platform stopped humming. All fell silent once more.

---