While growing up, I had them — I wasn't a psychopath, but I didn't outright express them. Like when I found Duke dead in that present box on my birthday — everyone cried and hollered. But I just stood there. Calm. It wasn't that I wasn't upset. I was devastated, but I internalized those emotions into thoughts and questions, trying to figure out why this happened and who did it.

I'd always been like that, except here. Since waking up in that abandoned room, I'd experienced and outright showed so many emotions. And right now, fear was up close and personal.

Saws Fucking saws. How the fuck would we survive saws!?

"Lord Tyaco, please don't let me die here," Aries chanted from somewhere. "Kill everyone else and whisk me from this unholy ground and to your beautiful spaceship."

"Will you shut the fuck up with that alien god crap? It's not real," Yaz snapped from afar. "And fuck you too. I hope a saw lodges up that tight ass of yours and cuts you and your dick and half."

Ignoring their bickering, my eyes shifted to the three giant saws that emerged from the top layer. Just looking at the size of them sent cruel trembles down my throat and chest, making me pant even harder.

A harsh whistle blared through the atmosphere, breaking me from my concentration. Jookie floated around on his platform, a grin plastered on his ivory skin. "Let the saws begin."

My pulse lodged into my throat as the cake began to rumble and split into thirds, each saw getting a side. The saws began to sprint in place at the top, buzzing like angry bees that wanted to attack. The blades moved at a fast pace, sending flicks of dirt, debris and fog into the air.

I coughed, feeling every part of me blaze like fire. Seconds passed like days as the saws continued to just spin in place, the light glinting off them, making the jagged edges look extra pointy.

Moments later, they sprinted down toward us.

Luckily, I wasn't in the way of any of them, but Sebastian wasn't so lucky. His body was positioned right in the pathway of one. The saw accelerated toward him, missing him by a nanosecond when he threw himself to the far right, which caused him to slip and tumble all the way down.

My eyes went to follow him, to see where he landed, but a slither of sickening agony trifled through my tummy and ankle. I squeaked, feet stumbling, and I slipped down a few steps before catching myself, feeling another blade slice my knee.

"Ouch," I whispered, looking down at myself. Tiny zippered gashes lined the middle of my tummy, blood seeping down from every incision. The skin around my ankle and knee blazed, meaning I must be cut there too. Fuck.

Peering around, mini buzz saws slipped in and out of various layers for several seconds. That's what must've hit me. I breathed through the prickling pain, trying not to look at the cuts because then they would hurt more. Focus.

"Aww seems like we still have everyone," Jookie said in a pouty tone as he continued to stare down at us as the saws stopped.

Letting the pain slip throughout my body for a couple of minutes, I sighed, trying to harden myself from all the emotions and agony. I could do this.

Grip. Step. Stop. Repeat.

Those words consumed my entire existence. If I could just make it to the top, I wouldn't have to go through another —

"Next poll, everyone," Jookie screamed, flying around in circles, causing colorful dust to blind my vision for a second. "Get ready, viewers. Cause this one is a doozy!"

Jookie raised his hands, batting the air. "Go ahead and vote vote vote."

The bars on the screen began to move, increasing until the final results appeared.

Jookie whistled. "Looks like hot piss it is!" He floated toward the far wall, grabbing a rainbow poncho that hung on a hook. Once it was nice and snuggly around him, he grinned and snapped his fingers. "Bring on the piss."

Deafening thunder crackled in the ceiling. Seconds later, thick liquid rained from above, coming down in buckets, reminding me of dark yellowish rain.

"Ahh, fuck," I cried out, tucking my head down. Each time the liquid touched my skin, even through my clothes, it felt like liquid lava. My teeth sank into my lip as my throat wanted to scream, but I held it in, watching it foam around my hands.

Don't open your mouth. Don't open your mouth.

A cruel odor came along with the steaming piss, reminding me of old food, mud, and vomit. It scented everything around me, clogging my sinuses until it cut off my breath, making me open my mouth to breath. Keeping my head down low, the liquid streamed down from my hair, rolling down to my eyes, mouth, and chin.

Eyes burning like I got soap in my eyes, I closed them as the funky piss dripped into my mouth, falling onto my tongue. The taste — I couldn't describe it. My mouth just vomited involuntarily, spewing out thick chunks that slopped onto my hands and the layers, stomach contracting as the strong piss continued to cover me.

I couldn't believe this was my life. Just days ago, I was in a convertible, singing off-key with Angie, and watching Riverdale with Tim and making out with Jonathan. Now, I was covered in piss, vomiting everywhere.

Jookie laughed from afar. "Breathe it all in, contestants. Let it all sink in."

Fuck you, Jookie. FUCK YOU.

"This pee came from all over the world," Jookie continued. "From homeless people, people with herpes, animals..."

The vomiting subsided, making every part of me feel weak. I slumped onto the hard layers, panting like an out of breath dog as the piss started to let up, becoming a soft rain until it stopped.

My entire body smelled horrible, and I was soaked to my underwear — underwear! I forgot I wasn't wearing pants. The image of millions of people watching me climb this hell-trap while flashing them entered my mind. Ugh, fuck it.

It took several minutes before my body would cooperate again. It was stiff and weak, but I moved upright again, staring down at the mess around me. The piss drenched everything, foaming and pooling around me in puddles, mixing with the black blood and sewage. Lots of roaches died, feet sticking up as they floated on their backs in the sludgy liquid.

My palm stomped on the dead roaches, using their rough carcasses as leverage to climb the layers without slipping.

Grip. Step. Stop. Repeat.

Forget everything. Forget the piss dripping down my thighs — the roaches under my nails. Just — Grip. Step. Stop. Repeat.

Then Jookie yelled out the next poll.

I had no idea which was worse — rocks that would hurt and possibly make me fall or disgusting roadkill. And they'd probably use old roadkill, not fresh. Just to fuck with us some more.

The results only took a minute.

Large shadows descended over our heads, bringing on the odor of rotten flesh. It started slow, a few bodies here and there. The body of a dead raccoon with a tire mark marring its stomach landed next to me, eyes bugged out with maggots crawling out of all its bloody holes.

Looking up at the sky, I tried to move out of the way as best I could, so I could avoid the animal carcasses, which I did successfully for the most part. But others weren't so lucky.

The live feed of Gmie materialized on the screen in front of me. She looked miserable, panting and muttering to herself. Then out of nowhere, a maggot-infested possum smacked her in the back, leaving maggots crawling on her neck and shoulders. Screaming, she clawed with one hand, trying to smack them off her, but that left her face right open.

Another dead animal swooped down, slapping her in the face. Her body went flying backward, tumbling down the layers and flopping into the wolf pit.

Two yellow-eyed beasts glanced up out of the pit, teeth glistening in the dark depths. Their eyes followed the trembling Gmie who screamed. One wolf growled and advanced on her, but she screeched, kicking it in the face. It tumbled back into the other one.

That mini distraction gave her time to jump at the ledge and crawl out.

The roadkill began to pelt down from the sky like huge snowballs, hundreds of them. I couldn't avoid them anymore. The bodies kept slapping my back and ass. It felt like I was getting hit with paintballs. Each hit caused maggots and dirt to slip onto my skin, some falling into my bra. Ugh, keep it together. They can't hurt you.

Then one body knocked me in my temple. Slick pain rocketed through my scalp as my vision blurred, hands slipping from under me. The marble, blood, and piss made grabbing anything impossible, so I tumbled down the layers, hitting my chin all the way down.

I didn't see what pit I slipped into — I felt it. It was like falling into a thick soup, but it wasn't a delicious liquid that cocooned me. Millions of legs crawled along my skin, some slimy and thick, others dry and tickly. Bugs. Millions of them.

Don't panic. Don't scream. DON'T PANIC.

The whipping in my chest continued to accelerate as the insects covered my whole body like a polka-dotted sheet, slipping into every hidden crevice of mine — my bra, my underwear, my boots. Nothing was off-limits. Disgusting and nauseating were the only words to come to mind.

And there was no bottom floor to this pit. Just fluffy piles of bugs, moving back and forth, kneading over my soft skin, ruining the innocence that it once had.

Centipedes and beetles crept up my neck and into my hair, tickling my spine and scalp. The weight of the bugs became heavy, making me sink deeper into the pit until they were up to my neck.

You gotta move now before they cover your head.

I closed my mouth and swam for the ledge, moving my arms and legs in a swimming motion. The motion sent bugs flying everywhere, making it easy to get to the ledge. But once I got there, it was hard getting out.

The wetness of the bugs made everything slippery and the weakness in my arms from the pain made everything harder on my muscles. So it took several tries before I slumped out of the pit and onto the bottom layer.

My lips released harsh pants, chest moving back and forth as bug dripped off my body. I flicked the rest of them off, trembling. Even though I was out of the pit, it still felt like they were crawling on me, invading me.

I shivered, peering to my left. Layla continued to sit, sobbing away.

Right when I started to climb again, another poll came up.

A fifty-fifty split.

Hands raised above my head, I moved into the fetal position as the plastic and the steel sprinkled from the sky. Both came down in fistfuls, raining on me. The sloshy condoms dripped gooey liquid onto my body, as the razors pierced my skin.

Pricks of new pain bred with the old pain, both vibrating in my bones. A scream scratched at my throat as everything started to overwhelm me. But I held my breath, keeping everything bottled up, even when the condoms dripped down my face and the sharp blades slipped deep.

Then everything stopped. It took several moments before I could move my hands from my head. When I did, dozens of razors scarred my arms and legs, dribbling with crimson.

My lip quivered as intense pain diffused up my body like liquid lava. Everything hurt, even sitting was causing me to ache. Sighing, I looked around, seeing people crawling and falling. Some falling into pits, some not.

Chi was barely making it up, still on the fourth layer. Bugs teetered over her body as she sobbed, feet stumbling.

Fee panted, breathing like a hog. His body moved up sideways, using his elbows and stepping on each layer with the side of his foot instead of the front. Yes, he was moving slow, but he was making progress.

Yaz made it up far until her feet slipped, and she fell down into the glass pit next to Demo. Instead of letting her body hit the glass, she maneuvered around in time, landing on her feet instead and jumped out of the pit next to me.

We didn't speak. Just exchanged glances before we both began to crawl up again. Every movement hurt — every part of me roared in agony, but I had to keep going.

Grip. Step. Stop. Repeat.

"Time for another poll, everyone," Jookie said, tucking the poncho tighter around himself as he flew around, leaving rainbow dust in his path.

Please, please, please be dead rats.

Shit.

I planted my face low, arms over me, bracing myself for the needles spiraling down. The sharp edges punctured my exposed body, pain mimicking that of a doctor's shot but worse. Some needles landed on their sides on top of me, smacking into the ones stabbing me, making them sink deeper.

"Please don't let these be junkie needles," Yaz murmured as she stayed firm next to me, needles impaling her too.

I didn't even think of that — please don't let these be diseased-infested.

This punishment ended quicker than the others, lasting only a couple of minutes. Blowing out a breath, I sagged against the layers. Needles stuck straight out of my back, arms and legs, causing every part of my body to burn.

Yaz panted next to me, needles sticking out of her too. "This hurts like a bitch." She had a line of needles up her arms, and tons more on her back and legs.

I panted, blowing out. "H-h-how about I-I get yours and you get m-mine?" I couldn't function with these things sticking in me, and I couldn't grab the back ones — not at my current pain levels. I'd have to use all my energy, and I needed to save as much as I could. I still needed to make it to the top.

Yaz stared at me, brown eyes wide. "R-really?" Her voice panted.

"Yeah," I said before letting out a wince.

She tried to lean toward me, to let me grab them, but she ended up stumbling down on her tummy. With the cake rotating, the spider pit was right below her.

I forced myself to stumble down the rest of the way, grabbing her hand by throwing myself a bit, making the needles stick further into my back. Biting back a groan, I caught her hand in time, making it so only her feet hit the pit. And she jumped out on her own.

"Thank you!" she said, breathing hard. Tears pricked her eyes. "I can't do spiders — t-they s-scare me t-to d-death." She shook her head and shivered and when I looked into her eyes this time I knew that spiders weren't just a simple phobia for her. A bad memory was attached to them.

"It's okay," I said, leaning forward, pulling the needles from her body. She shuddered and whimpered but stood strong. Then she did the same for me. It fucking hurt. Each pulled needle was straight prickling pain, but once they were all gone, relief followed soon after.

Then I started climbing again. No one made it to the top yet. Khan was in the lead; he was halfway there. I didn't care about winning. I just couldn't be in the bottom three.

Grip. Step. Stop. Repeat.

"New poll ladies and gents!" Jookie screamed, flying.

Bloody shit balls won by one percent.

Keeping my face down, thick plopping sounds echoed around me, bringing on the stench of foulness and old eggs. Some splashed onto my body, making me instantly want to die. The shit blended with the blood, piss and everything else on the layers, making a disgusting mud-like slush. It seeped deep into my nails and caked against my palms as I continued to climb.

I ignored the mud and the raining shit balls and kept moving upward until some landed in my hair —my hair!

Don't touch it. It'll make it worse. Just wash it out later.

Grip. One step. Grip. One step.

A minute later, a shrieking alarm pierced the air, messing up my rhythm, and I tumbled down eight layers.

"Khan is our winner!" Jookie clapped his hands as he swirled around on the platform.

I looked up, seeing Khan at the top covered in all types of crap, face blank.

"But don't give up folks! Every person who makes it to the top within the next forty minutes will still get some points," Jookie said, waving a red flag. "If you don't, you're automatically in the bottom three. So keep on climbing, my little babies!"

Fuck, they changed the rules. Now, I had to make it to the top. Assholes.

Grip. Step. Grip. Step. Grip. Step. Grip. Step.

"A new poll!" Jookie screamed. Fuck.

Another tie.

This time the punishment didn't come down like the roadkill or the shit balls, a few here and there or even in big clumps. No, the maggots and the ants came down thick like a sludgy mist, blocking out the light. No transparency at all.

Millions of both blanketed me, crawling everywhere while covering my nose and mouth. I coughed, trying to breathe. The ants nipped and bit my skin, mimicking the pain of the razors from earlier while the maggots crawled, making everything slippery.

Earsplitting screams burst through the atmosphere as everyone began to fall. The ant bites got worse, stinging me like a wasp. I jerked involuntary, losing my grip and tumbled down — right into the shark pit.

My face hit the filthy water first, and it instantly enveloped me into the murky depths. Coughing when I popped my head up, breaking the surface, I spat out the disgusting water, floating in place. And then it happened — a shark fin brushed my legs.

I swam to the ledge, arms flailing around like a drowning victim until I got to the ledge. Fingers hooking onto the ledge, I pulled myself up, but something snapped onto my boot, tugging me back under the water.

The water clogged my senses, sloshing into my holes until I closed my eyes and mouth, trying to swim to the surface. But the shark tugged on my boot, making it impossible to break the surface, keeping me deep in the water.

I couldn't hold my breath for much longer, my lungs spasmed, wanting to burst in my chest. That's when I began to flail around, wigging my body, slipping my foot from my boot.

Once I was free, I swam to the surface. Popping my head up for a deep breath, I coughed while jumping for the ledge. It felt hard under my fingertips, and I pulled myself up, seeing blood dripping from my heel.