Nightmare Game
Copyright© 2025 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 110
What was happening?
Ethan’s mind raced, thoughts spinning like a storm.
It was only the first day, and already some inexplicable force seemed intent on wiping them all out.
Even Madam Arachne, another medium-difficulty Dreamplay, hadn’t been this bizarre. Ethan doubted this drowning was meant to kill them outright.
Trained by the Wolf in survival, he knew panic was the enemy in a drowning scenario. Stay calm, hold your breath, keep water from flooding your lungs.
Steadying himself, he surveyed the scene.
The shadowy figures were shrouded in faint black mist, vaguely humanoid, with glints of青色 scales. Their heads resembled seaweed strands, lidless eyes bulging, glowing crimson. Their lower halves trailed like jellyfish tendrils.
Ethan guessed these were the creatures behind the red eyes peering through the Prison walls.
But the guards’ reactions caught his attention more.
At first, he thought they were unaffected, standing stoic.
Now, he saw they were hit hardest.
Henry and the others were frozen, as if time had stopped, their expressions locked in place.
Meanwhile, every Dreamwalker and prisoner—purple or green—showed signs of drowning.
The prisoners, though, seemed used to it, reacting faster than the Dreamwalkers.
Among the Dreamwalkers, a few snapped out of it quickly, including Julian and Mason.
To maintain his guise as an unremarkable rookie, Ethan let go of his breath.
The sensation of water flooding his lungs nearly knocked him out. He flailed, comical as a landlubber tossed into the sea.
He knew Julian was cataloging everyone’s reactions, narrowing down his targets.
Sure enough, Julian’s suspicious gaze lingered on Mason.
The young man had performed well so far, standing out as the most likely to be Clara’s ally.
Surviving a Dreamplay demanded mental grit.
This drowning was a sudden crisis, but staying calm revealed it was only suffocation, not physical harm.
Mason was among the first to notice, while others’ eyes rolled back, gasping, clearly out of their depth.
To Julian, Mason seemed the prime suspect.
But he wasn’t rash. Mason’s quick thinking and composure were solid, yet his subtle tells—slight hesitations, nervous gestures—betrayed a lack of confidence.
Julian prided himself on his keen eye. He doubted Mason’s poise was an act.
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