Lines We Cross ||Front Man x Reader||

As we moved through the gates, my boots scraped against the gravel. I expected to see another cold, colorless room, but what greeted me instead was something entirely different. We were led into a massive open space with walls stretching endlessly around us, high enough to block out any real view. The space above, however, was wide open, exposing a clear sky. Birds flew lazily overhead, blissfully unaware of the nightmare we were about to endure.

The group shuffled into the space, murmurs and whispered prayers filling the air. People looked around nervously, and I couldn't blame them. Something about this felt wrong, more wrong than anything I'd seen so far, and that's saying a lot considering I'd been stuffed into a tracksuit and thrown into a nightmare.

I stuck to the back of the crowd, scanning everything, my investigator instincts kicking in. There was something huge in the distance. A towering object that looked like a child's toy blown up to massive proportions. What the actual fuck was this place?

My eyes darted to Player 456 again. He was standing a bit ahead of me, shifting from foot to foot, his face pale as a sheet. He looked like he was fighting back some serious thoughts.

"You will die," he suddenly said, his voice loud enough to catch everyone's attention.

People turned to look at him, a ripple of unease spreading through the crowd.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" someone snapped.

"Stop trying to scare us, man," another guy said. "It's probably just some stupid game."

456 shook his head, looking desperate. "You don't understand. If you move when they say 'stop,' you should seriously stop moving. Otherwise you will be shot. There are snipers in those walls."

That made the crowd even more restless. Some laughed nervously, trying to shake off his words, while others exchanged worried glances. I watched him carefully, feeling the weight of his words settle in my chest. He wasn't lying.

"Shut the fuck up," a man barked. "You're freaking everyone out."

"Let's just see what this is before you start running your mouth," another added.

Before 456 could say anything else, a mechanical hum echoed through the air, cutting through the chatter. The crowd fell silent.

"Welcome, players," a female voice said over the speakers, cool and detached. "You will now play the first game: Red Light, Green Light."

I blinked. Red Light, Green Light? Like the kids' game?

Wait. Player 456 knew before hand. This raises too many questions.

The voice continued, "When the signal is Green Light, you may move forward toward the finish line. When the signal is Red Light, you must stop immediately. Those who move during Red Light will be eliminated. If you fail to cross the finish line within five minutes, you will also be eliminated."

Eliminated. That word again.

I couldn't shake the feeling in my gut, the way my heart raced. 456's warning came back to me, crystal clear. Eliminated didn't mean disqualified—it meant fucking dead.

The looming object in the distance came into focus: a massive animatronic girl with pigtails, her head slowly turning side to side as if scanning us. Creepy as hell.

"Prepare to begin," the voice said.

"Green Light."

The crowd hesitated for a moment before someone took the first step. Then others followed, a cautious shuffle forward.

"Red Light."

The animatronic girl's head snapped toward us, and everything went still. I didn't even breathe.

Then it happened.

A girl next to Thanos started screaching for some reason. The front wobbled, her balance giving out. A sharp crack split the air, and she crumpled to the ground.

Headshot.

Then another shot, and another. People started to panic, bolting toward the gates or dropping to their knees in desperation.

"No! Don't move!" 456 shouted, his voice rising above the chaos. "You'll die! Don't fucking move!"

Some listened, freezing in place, while others kept running. More gunshots rang out, bodies dropping like flies.

I couldn't think. My legs felt frozen, my heart slamming against my ribs. This wasn't just a game. It was a fucking massacre.

"Green Light."

I forced myself to move, every muscle screaming at me to stay still. Step by step, I pushed forward, my eyes locked on the finish line in the distance.

"Red Light."

I froze, holding my breath, trying not to even blink.

456 was ahead of me, still shouting at people to stay still. He wasn't trying to scare anyone, he was trying to save lives.

Each time the game cycled between Green and Red Light, 456 shouted to the group, desperate to keep people alive.

"Stop! Don't fucking move!" he screamed during Red Light, his voice hoarse.

"Move! Go now!" he urged the moment Green Light was announced.

The clock was ticking down, the seconds slipping away. I kept my focus on the finish line, running when I could, stopping on a dime when I had to.

The timer ticked down, the seconds feeling like hours. Every time the voice said "Green Light," I ran, pushing myself harder, faster. My chest burned, my legs ached, but I wasn't stopping.

I caught up to 456, falling in step beside him. He glanced at me, his eyes wide and panicked.

The timer was running out, and the screams around us were a constant reminder of what happened if you failed.

One step at a time, we pushed forward.

When the final "Red Light" came, I froze just inches from the finish line, my heart pounding in my ears.

"Green Light."

456 crossed first, collapsing to his knees in relief. I followed close behind, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath.

But it wasn't over.

456's eyes darted back to the field. A man had fallen, blood seeping from his leg. He wasn't going to make it.

Without hesitation, 456 bolted back toward the injured man.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I yelled, but he ignored me.

Another player, 120, followed him. Together, they hoisted the injured man onto their shoulders, dragging him toward the finish line.

"Come on!" 456 shouted, his voice raw.

The timer ticked down: 5 seconds... 4... 3...2...

The crowd watched in stunned silence as they crossed the finish line with barely a second to spare.

...1.

The three of them collapsed in a heap, gasping for air. For a moment, it seemed like they'd done it. Like they'd beaten the odds.

Then a gunshot rang out.

The injured man's body jerked violently before going still. Blood pooled beneath him.

456 and 120 stared in horror, their faces pale, their hands trembling.

"Why?" 456 whispered, his voice breaking.

No one answered.

"Player eliminated."