”The disposal has completed. All managers, soldiers, and workers, return to your quarters.” As the cheerful yet lifeless voice spoke over the intercom, a nervous sweat ran down your neck.

You messed up. Bad. Royally. So fucked. After the first game, whilst you were loading the coffins into the incinerator, you missed two boxes marked for extraction. You knew your minutes were numbered until a Manager found out, and you—

“Circle. With me.” You physically tensed, slowly rising from your leaned-over position as you incinerated the final coffin and turned around to face the devil incarnate.

One of the managers loomed over you and you could almost see a comical seething vein poking out of his mask, making you want to shrink under his gaze.

He turned around, waiting for you to follow him without checking if you actually were. However, if you knew what was good for you, you’d follow.