CHAPTER 12
We Have Nothing to Lose
ÁMBAR
We split up because if we stayed together, we ran the risk of dying together.
The blonde girl came with me; she still hadn't told me her name, and neither had I, but introductions were the least important thing.
I was still carrying the little girl in my arms, and the image of the door—the scene behind it—my mind tried to erase it.
Seeing those people, decomposing, the smell… no, no, no. It wasn't something I could allow to stay in my memory.
The timer marked the last minute before they began searching for us.
We went up an emergency staircase to the third floor; we ran when there were thirty seconds left.
"Can you carry her?" I said to the girl, pointing at the child.
She nodded, and I handed the little one to her; the girl looked at me with an expression that seemed to say, "Don't go."
"What's your name?" I asked, trying to sound calm while watching the timer: ten seconds.
"Nailea," the girl answered softly.
"Okay, Nailea. My name is Ámbar. Don't be scared if you hear strange noises, and don't talk to the boys we saw earlier. They're not good people; they're strangers."
"It's bad to talk to strangers," the girl replied, and I let out a sigh of relief.
"I know you don't know us either," I continued, "but we'll take care of you until your parents come back for you. Do you understand?"
She nodded just as the alarm started to sound. The blonde girl looked at me, terrified.
"She'll take care of you while I try to make sure they don't find us," I said to the blonde. "Tell her your name so she feels safe."
"I'm Sophia," she said, looking at her carefully.
"Sophia, please take care of her. I'll try to distract them."
"Don't do that," Sophia replied tensely. "You're risking too much. Hide with us; if we hide well, they won't look for you."
"They have cameras," I explained quietly. "If they don't find us, they'll be alerted. Did you see their earpieces? I'm sure they'll be told if they have trouble finding us. Don't worry, hide. Before they come up."
I walked away and saw Sophia take the girl toward a door.
I watched until I knew which one they went into to hide. I had to plan every second: what to do during the entire search and which route to take if they found us. I would do the impossible to make the alarm reach zero without them being caught.
I went through about two hallways, counting them so I wouldn't get lost on the way down. I stopped at the emergency stair door when I heard a scream.
"Please!" the girl's voice began to choke; suddenly she started coughing violently.
I covered my mouth when I heard a cut and a laugh.
"Oh girls, did you forget that we know the building?" one of the boys said. It wasn't the one who had insulted me earlier or the one with the scars; it was the thinnest one, the one who didn't seem to fit in with the others.
I knew I wouldn't win in a fight, so I'd have to trick them.
By attacking from behind.
I stopped hearing his voice. I opened the door carefully, went down to the second floor, and looked both ways. Then the voices appeared: two of them talking, unconcerned.
I ran to cross before they turned around and pushed open the door to one of the offices.
One of the problems was that the walls were transparent glass; without thinking, I hid behind one of the desks, holding my breath.
"I already killed one whore, but I don't have my usual weapons. I'm holding back," one of them said, his voice terrifyingly close.
"What was that girl's name?" another asked, his voice raspy, not paying much attention to the first comment.
"Which one?"
"The one who wasn't on the list."
List?
"Ámbar," the first answered. "The other girl should be here, but the idiot protects her so much. She was supposed to be his friend."
Is he my friend? The one who decided to bring me here? And Ari's father… what was he doing here?
"He's never had friends. Sometimes I wish I could suffocate him. Just thinking about it gives me satisfaction; I can't stand that he's the damn favorite," another said, his words laced with a sick mix of resentment.
The other one started laughing.
"Sometimes I feel like taking that girl, Ari, and killing her in front of him. How do you think he'd react?"
Hearing my best friend's name in the mouths of those men froze me.
My foot moved without meaning to, making a sound. They fell silent instantly.
In my mind, I started cursing myself for failing to stay hidden.
I stood up, coming into view of the ones outside the office, watching to see if anyone was approaching before going in.
They both turned their heads when they saw me; their stare was immediate, sharp.
"Look, speaking of the stupid one," said the thin boy.
They were right: I looked at the other one; he was red-haired and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked drugged.
It wasn't the first time I'd been in a dangerous situation; I knew what to do.
Make them believe they have control.
Make them believe you have no escape.
I clenched my fists, closing the empty spaces of my hoodie. I looked straight at the thin one: I had to provoke him. I'd realized something—each of them attacked only one girl; they liked having absolute control over their victim.
I would make him believe I was lost, that I couldn't escape.
"I know that look," he said, feigning disdain. "You think you're brave, but you're just insulting me."
"What look?" I raised my gaze, making both of them glance at each other.
My eyes were tired; I looked at them with hatred and didn't look away.
"Who do you think you are?" the one who wanted to fight snapped. "You're nobody compared to us, do you understand?"
He flung the door open and lunged at me violently, his hands going for my neck. I could see the other boy's face behind him, fascinated by the scene.
I had him where I wanted him: exposed, easy to provoke.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you," he threatened, tightening his grip on my throat.
I saw the other boy walk away, leaving us there; he was sure I wasn't a threat.
I smiled—the smile they loved so much, but now I wanted him to see that same expression.
To suffer.
That was why I was here.
"Men… always so easy to throw off balance," I said, and his expression darkened when he realized I'd set a trap.
In the movement, I raised my right hand and, in a quick, calculated gesture, let the knife hidden in my hoodie fall. As it slid, I caught it reflexively without thinking; everything happened very fast.
I touched his cheek. He staggered slightly, his face starting to go pale as he began coughing aggressively, thin lines of blood appearing along his neck.
He grabbed his throat, eyes wide open; he couldn't even form a word because he was choking on his own blood.
"What's wrong, is it not fun anymore?" I asked, knowing he could barely respond. "I get it now: you only like it when it's others who suffer."
He clutched his neck, trying to stay on his feet.
"Hey, your partner left," I said, feigning pity. "Oh, looks like he doesn't care about you that much. How sad."
I wiped my knife and brought it close to his face, brushing it softly against his skin.
"Tell me what it feels like to have the same thing done to you that you did to others," I wanted him to look at me, to understand that fear wasn't so fun when you were the one feeling it.
For them, this had always been just a game.
"You were there when they hurt me and then kidnapped me. You treated me like I was nothing," I said, letting my words weigh on him. I let go of him, and he collapsed to the floor, drained of strength.
He breathed with difficulty, trying to stay conscious.
"You're… going to regret—" he stammered, reaching for the weapon that had fallen nearby. I stepped closer and kicked it away.
"No. This time you won't be able to do it."
And little by little, he stopped moving, his eyes left open, unblinking, announcing that he was already eliminated.
[●●●]
A security boy ran to find Eduardo when he saw, through the cameras, what Ámbar had managed to do. Eduardo wiped his hands as he usually did and raised the arm of the winner inside the cage, who could barely stand: she had multiple wounds all over her body.
The other boy lay on the floor, bleeding out, on the brink of death.
It had been a long time since someone had managed to face one of the clan members.
They were despicable beings, capable of instilling fear in anyone they set their sights on. The victims, mostly women—though there were also men—were weak people, according to the clan's own investigation.
Nothing that happened there was accidental. They knew perfectly well whom to choose: the right ones for the game.
But Ámbar had never been chosen. She had ended up there, yes, but she was never the target.
And for the first time, they had made a mistake.
Eduardo stayed watching as the security boy spoke to him with a gesture.
Then he noticed his expression, but thought it couldn't be that serious. He left the cage, and the men sitting on the couches fell silent, especially Ari's father.
"What happened? It better be something really important," Eduardo said, annoyed as he approached.
It irritated him to be interrupted during something that fascinated him so much. In truth, the game imposed on the girls was the least important thing—unless one of those present won what he had bet on one of them.
He was bored of watching them die so easily.
They were used to it. The men who entered the game to kill them were the only ones who truly enjoyed it, though not all of them could do it. They were carefully selected by those in charge.
"It's one of the girls… Ámbar," the guard said cautiously, still looking stunned.
"Did she die already or what?" Eduardo asked, giving it minimal importance, as if he expected it.
"No… she killed one of the boys," the guard replied.
Eduardo's eyes widened, as if what he had just heard had actually hurt him.
"What? Her? Who?" he asked, then started laughing, covering his mouth with his hand. His smile spread across his entire face.
"I knew there was something about her…" he murmured between laughs.
He couldn't stop laughing, and the guard clearly hadn't expected that reaction.
"She killed Luis. She cut his throat," he finally said.
Eduardo's eyes lit up.
"Then she's the exception," Eduardo said, moving closer to his superiors; everyone turned to look at Ari's father, who also looked surprised.
They gave the order to turn on the live camera screens of the game, to see what had happened.
"Should we warn the others?" Eduardo asked, eyes fixed on the screen, directing the question at the bulky man who seemed to be his boss.
"No," the man replied in a deep voice. "Those aren't our rules. If she survives, she'll have the same fate as the others: one week of life for each victory. If she stays here, she'll have to face someone much more difficult. And maybe she'll join us."
He took a sip of his drink without concern, not even placing the glass back properly, and turned his gaze to the screen as it powered on.
Everyone—absolutely everyone—remained focused on what would happen.
Silence filled the room. Only the soft hum of the screens turning on and the metallic murmur of the system activating could be heard.
The image took a few seconds to stabilize until Ámbar's face appeared, covered in sweat and blood, breathing with difficulty.
Luis's body still lay on the floor, motionless. The camera focused on the wound on his neck and then returned to her. There was no fear in her expression, only a fixed stare.
Ari's father leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. His face, for a moment, reflected something the others couldn't identify: pride or confusion.
"Who trained her?" he asked quietly, without looking away.
ÁMBAR
I shook my head and wiped my hands clean of that idiot's blood. Maybe, in some corner of my mind, I regretted it… but in the end, I didn't.
I had too much accumulated anger. I was filthy, exhausted, and sick of all this.
It wouldn't happen again. I wouldn't allow it.
No, no, no. No one would touch me again. No one would have control over me ever again.
I took a deep breath, though I felt something shift inside me—or maybe it was just the nausea.
I raised my hands and clasped them together, like I used to do in church when I prayed with my mother.
The difference was that now, between my fingers, I was still holding the knife. The blade peeked out above them.
My lips moved, but I didn't pray anymore.
The fear I once had had vanished, replaced by a strange calm.
And in that moment, I understood that if I wanted to survive, I would have to become what I hated most.
"I hope you rot in hell," I said.
I took a step and added, "Forgive me… you were already dead."
If I could have avoided it, I would have; but if I had to fight, I would.
I would have no mercy.
If they had none, I would give it back to them.
"Help me!" I raised my head toward the ceiling.
It was on the floor above.
When had they gone up?
I ran toward the stairs to look for the girl. I thought of Nailea and Sophia, of the fact that they were also hiding.
This time, I didn't bother being quiet as I ran up.
When I opened the door and looked down the hall, I started running.
A loud crash echoed, as if glass had just been shattered.
When I finally stopped getting lost among the corridors, the scene in front of me froze me.
It was the boy I had crossed paths with earlier… the one who seemed to be his friend.
What scared me about him was his height, his gaze. I felt intimidated.
The floor was covered in glass. I was sure he'd been hurt, because he wasn't holding any weapon or object.
He had broken the glass door of the office in the hallway.
I saw the girl crawling across the floor, crying. I was about to move, but I froze.
"What don't you understand? No one will help you. No one would help a useless, stupid girl like you."
The memory hit me all at once, and my anger escalated.
The girl looked at me, and for a moment, I saw relief on her face.
I turned to the boy: he looked serious, holding a piece of fabric with small holes in it.
It reminded me of the one on my front door, the one that worked as a mosquito screen at the country house. But of course, it was a type of fabric whose name I couldn't remember.
I walked toward them and pulled out my knife, ready to risk fighting, even if everything was against me.
"I'll help you," I said.
But before I could move, I felt arms grab me tightly from behind, immobilizing me.
I started thrashing violently to break free.
I looked at his hands: those wounds…
My body began to tremble.
It was him.
The shaved boy with white hair, who looked at me with an expression that could be mistaken for love… if I didn't know what kind of monster he was.
"Were you hiding from me, love?" he asked.
He kissed my cheek.
Without thinking, I spat in his face.
His expression twisted.
He raised an arm to wipe it off… and in that instant, I broke free violently.
I stopped my fall by bracing one hand against the wall. I looked at him, then at the girl who was still crawling, trying to escape. I realized she had wounds on her legs… she was bleeding.
I didn't want to tremble. I don't want to be like this.
I had put my knife back in the same place where it had been hidden before.
The white-haired boy hadn't noticed that I'd taken it from him when we struggled, before all this began.
"Keep your whore under control!" the boy said calmly as he approached the girl.
He looked at me as if my mere presence annoyed him; his next move caught me off guard: he took the fabric in one hand, dropped it to the floor, and clenched his fist, embedding glass fragments into it.
He violently lifted the girl without turning her around. She was so weak she could barely stand; her breathing sped up.
"No!" was all I managed to say as I ran toward her—then I was struck from behind and restrained even tighter. I looked at his hands, full of wounds, and thought of all the people he had killed.
I knew, with a cold knot in my stomach, that I was about to witness something unbearable.
"NO, PLEASE!" I screamed with everything I had left; my voice came out broken and airless.
Seeing her tears hit me like a blow; my body moved with a violence I couldn't control.
My world stopped when he raised the fabric with both hands and brought it toward her. He placed it over her face; her breathing turned ominous, each attempt to inhale weaker than the last, her whimpers audible every time she tried.
I felt the dry scrape of glass fragments against her skin; I saw her kick, her nails claw at the air, her color fading little by little.
I wanted to throw myself at him and rip the fabric away, but I was held firmly. Helplessness burned my chest, and amid the noise of my own heartbeat, her struggle faded.
Then—I didn't want to let go. With all my strength, I struck him in the stomach. I pulled out the knife clumsily, without thinking, stabbed him twice in the abdomen aggressively, and ran without looking back.
I ran to her when I saw he released her, took her into my arms. She collapsed against me, all her weight on my chest, and I held her tightly, feeling every tremor in her body. Glass fell from her face, revealing the raw red marks on her exposed skin. The bulky boy watched us from head to toe, but I kept him at bay, pointing the knife at him so he wouldn't come closer.
"It's going to be okay…" I whispered in her ear, trying to give her comfort. "Everything's going to be okay."
But when I looked at her closely, I understood how serious her condition was. Her eyes wouldn't open, her face was pale and fragile, and in some places, I could see she wouldn't stop bleeding.
"No…" she said, and blood began to spill from her lips, staining my shoulder. She tried to speak again, but when she did, coughing shook her entire body. She tried to swallow, and the pain made her curl in on herself, clutching me desperately.
"I'm going to die…" she whispered between gasps. "But don't let go of me… please… don't let go until I close my eyes. I'm scared…"
My hand trembled as I stroked her back. I could hear only her breathing.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the dyed-hair boy kneeling, staring at his hands as they continued bleeding.
Meanwhile, the taller one tilted his head as he watched us. That calm in his gaze… that indifference…
I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry.
No. No, no, no… why? Why did this have to happen?
"Hold on, please," I begged, pulling her closer. I felt her hands slowly move across my back, searching for something to hold onto. I held onto her too.
"Please…" she whispered, her voice in pieces. "Don't let them touch me. Don't let them touch my body again…"
Her body shuddered one last time, and then… stillness. Her grip loosened, her fingers sliding slowly from my shirt until they hung in the air, lifeless.
Tears blinded me.
I didn't want to let her go. I couldn't.
I pressed her to my chest, trying to beg God for one more second, one single instant more of life.
I looked up. The boy was watching me.
As I tried to control my sobs, I kept pointing the knife at him… but no longer with the same firmness. My hands shook, and the knife, which had once felt like a shield, now felt as fragile as I was.
He watched me in silence, without saying a word. Then he slowly turned his head back, looking at his partner, who was still kneeling—he wasn't dead.
In a rough movement, he grabbed him by the arm and lifted him almost by force.
The air grew heavier. Only my broken breaths and the scrape of their boots against the pavement could be heard.
"Don't come closer…" I managed to murmur, though my voice sounded more like a plea than a warning.
They both turned toward me, and a shiver ran through my body. I had to run.
I took a step back, breath ragged, signaling my movement.
Then, a loud horn blast thundered through the place.
"Attention to all game contestants," a woman's automated voice spoke. "The search-and-hide period has ended. Upon the conclusion of this recording, the estimated time of twenty minutes will be strictly regulated: causing harm to any participant is prohibited. Likewise, remaining in the same hiding place without following the rules will result in immediate elimination from the game. You have twenty minutes to hide again."
I lowered my gaze and looked at the girl lying in my arms, desperately searching for any sign of life.
My hands trembled. I looked at the watch, as if time could stop, as if in some lost second there might still be hope.
Carefully, I laid her against the wall.
I gently removed the pieces of glass from her skin, though I knew she felt nothing anymore.
I was sure someone was waiting for her out there.
I looked up at the boy who had killed her, and for an instant, everything around me disappeared. His expression was one of annoyance, as if my pain inconvenienced him.
"You didn't know her," he murmured, almost mockingly, as if that made her death hurt less.
I stood up. I gripped the knife tightly, feeling fury boil beneath my skin.
I took a step toward him, ignoring the other boy at his side, whose sharp gaze was fixed on me without saying a word.
I aimed straight at his eye. I didn't hurt him… but I could have.
His hand stopped me effortlessly, as if I posed no threat at all.
Then, the sound of the elevator broke the moment. The door opened, and a woman stepped out accompanied by two men.
"If you're going to do it, make sure it's after twenty minutes… otherwise, you'll die," she said in a cold voice, studying me with intrigue.
I wrenched myself free from his grip, stepped back, and saw one of the hooded men approach the girl's body.
I didn't think. I stepped between them, my heart burning, determined not to let them touch her.
"You're not going to touch her," I said, almost shouting. Everyone's face looked as if they'd just heard something ridiculous. "If you do, you'll have to kill me too."
"Hold her," said the bulky boy as he tried to help the other one, who kept looking at me that way.
His playful demeanor from minutes ago was gone; now he looked at me differently. I'd hurt him, but I still didn't know what he was thinking.
"No, don't touch her," he said, his voice sending shivers across my skin. We locked eyes, and I lowered mine.
At first, each of them had been behind a girl, but during the game it didn't seem that way. Still, from the beginning, he hadn't taken his eyes off me; everyone focused on one, but I felt his attention constantly.
"I won't do anything to her, I'll just take her body to her family," the woman said, smiling as she spoke those horrible words. "I'll leave her at her front door, if you want."
My fists clenched.
"Fucking bitch," I said before lunging at her, but one of the hooded men slammed me against the wall, making a bone in my back crack and sending intense pain through my abdomen. I felt my wound reopen.
I didn't touch my stomach; I didn't want them to notice. I stood up using the wall for support and watched as they took her body away, pulling her from me.
Holding back tears, I tilted my head back.
"Did she cause you trouble?" a familiar voice asked. I looked up and saw Eduardo, smiling at the other boys. "I saw how she faced him, and that's after I made her suffer yesterday, right, Ámbar?"
He looked at me for approval and sighed, as if it were absurd to even ask.
"What idiots," he said, lifting his hand mockingly. I knew what he meant.
"Didn't you see that I almost killed her?" the bulky one asked. "He was the idiot who let himself get stabbed."
The rivalry between them was obvious.
"Oh yes, like your brother," Eduardo replied, laughing. "Didn't you know?"
He was pretending innocence.
"What are you talking about?" the bulky one asked as one of the hooded men escorted the other boy I'd injured. He walked, trying to look like he wasn't in pain.
He shot me one last look before getting into the elevator and disappearing with the woman carrying the girl.
"He died," Eduardo said without any delicacy. "It wasn't because of the stab. Do you know how it happened? He drowned in his own blood from the cut on his neck. This girl surprised us; really, it was a surprise. She attacked him and everything went wrong for him."
He started laughing, his laughter echoing through the place.
"Surprising, right, Leo?" he added. "Unfortunately, Luis didn't survive."
His head turned toward me, looking at me with an expression I hadn't seen before.
"What are you staring at?" I asked after coughing. "I didn't know he was your brother."
"And if you had known, you wouldn't have killed him?"
"No," I answered coldly. "I would've made him suffer more."
He approached holding the same fabric he'd used to hurt the other girl.
"You're going to lose, remember?" I said, raising my watch. "There are still ten minutes left."
"Come on, remember the time… Luis… sorry, Leo, I always confuse them," Eduardo said mockingly.
"Shut up, Eduardo. All of you are idiots," Leo growled.
"If it's my turn, will you do what you were ordered? Kill him?" I asked Eduardo, who looked at me with a smile.
"Yes," he answered without hesitation. "Those were my superiors' instructions."
Leo ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself. I turned to leave, looking for Nailea and Sophia. I walked down the hallway and took the chance to press my abdomen without being seen.
"I'll never forget that it was you who ended my brother," Leo growled behind me. "You're nothing more than an object to us, a tool. You'll never be stronger than us. You women will remain insignificant to us until your deaths—you'll be remembered for how weak you are."
I turned and sighed. The calmness with which I replied seemed to surprise them. Eduardo watched everything with an almost amused smile.
"I hope you don't forget that I was the one who ended him," I said calmly. "I'll never regret it. And when we meet again, I'll make you suffer more than he did."
"Do you really think you're stronger than me?" he shot back.
"Strength?" I replied. "That's not what this is about. Maybe you're stronger, but you're not smarter."
I pointed at his arm.
"Don't fool me. That wound wasn't made by me. It was made by one of those other girls."
"I know that already," I said with a half-smile. "But… don't you notice something strange? Another kind of blood."
He looked at his arm with indifference at first, until he noticed the small stain that had landed on his skin when I tried to hurt him. My blood had fallen on him—that had been my purpose from the start.
To infect him.
"So what?" he scoffed. "You don't scare me."
"You shouldn't be so calm," I said. "The doctors gave me three months to live. At first they thought I might improve, but later they admitted there was no cure. My disease progresses fast. They told me to be careful when I cut myself or when someone else comes into contact with my blood."
His eyes widened in shock. Eduardo watched me in silence, incredulous.
"What's wrong?" I continued with an ironic smile. "Didn't you find pain fascinating? Well then, get ready, Leo. You're about to truly know it."
"You're lying. If you were sick, you wouldn't be standing or able to fight."
"Exactly," I replied. "I have nothing left to lose."
I looked at his arm, satisfied. A reddish mark was beginning to spread, turning purple.
Eduardo frowned.
"What is that?" he asked in disgust.
I raised my sleeve to show my own arm. The same mark, more advanced. Identical.
Leo grabbed his head and collapsed to the floor, unconscious. His strength did him no good.
"Oh, that's nothing," I said, stepping closer to make sure he didn't react.
Eduardo pulled out his phone and urgently called someone, then looked toward the hallway cameras.
Just as I thought: they were on.
"He's not going to die," I said, looking him in the eyes. "And that's despite being taller and stronger than you."
"Hey, Eduardo," I said, stifling a laugh as I covered my mouth with my hand.
"What's so funny?" he asked, still checking Leo's pulse to see if he was alive.
"Do you remember when you attacked me that time?" I said, laughing. "You touched my blood."
His expression changed instantly.
"No… I didn't have any wounds," he muttered, stepping back. "I'm not infected."
"Oh, aren't you?" I tilted my head, smiling crookedly. "I remember perfectly when you cut yourself with your own knife while trying to clean my blood off it. How ironic, right? All of this… because of you."
"I don't have that damn mark," he snapped, no longer paying attention to Leo, tearing off the gloves on his hands aggressively, revealing his right hand completely red.
"I wonder who will die first," I said, staring at his mark.