Would You Rather

An odd party game in which one states two odd dilemmas in the form of a question, beginning with the three words "would you rather"...

"Would you rather swallow a hundred spikes or jump into a field of knifes, blades and pointed swords head-first?" Paige asked an anxious Cain.

"Neither, he said, completely disappointed, "I'd already be dead." Cain muttered. I knew he wouldn't answer correctly.

"What the hell are you talking about, Cain? Why can't you just pick one?" I asked.

"Because I'm going to die today." He simply said. I frowned. He always said that, no matter the situation. It freaked us all out. No one died when he said that. Not even him, the one announcing his own death. 

"That's pretty fatalistic of you, Cain. There's no hiding from death, but you don't have to say that. You're young. Nothing's going to happen." I laughed nervously.

"The idea is to put fear into our mind, right Cain?" Paige sighed with impatience, smiling slightly. She was obviously confused and tired of his crap about dying. "Learn how to take a joke, Wendell. He was kidding. He always is." She glanced back at Cain, whose eyes had begun to water mindlessly. His eyes were halfway hidden under his eye sockets to keep him from crying too much. His head was tilted back a little. 

"Allergies, Cain?" Paige snickered under her breath. "Where are your--" The lights flickered off. In fact, all electricity was wiped out and we were seated in the midst of darkness on a gloomy night, alone. Perfect.

"I'll go fetch some candles." I heard Paige walk toward the kitchen, fumbling around for sources of light. Once she came back with her own lit candle, he handed me one along with a lighter and proceeded to hand Cain his own, lighting it for him with another lighter.

"Oh my," I heard Paige gasp. I still had to light my candle. I thumbed the lighter and I brought my small hand-candle to life. I moved it away from my face, only to be staring right at Cain, whose eyes weren't even there anymore. Thick blood dribbled from the gaping holes where his eyes were and into his open mouth. His fingers were bent back strangely, broken and blue, tickling with blood. A large patch of his hair was shaved off in the front so close to his scalp so someone could etch the words "would you rather" onto his forehead. His shirt was torn open to reveal letters painstakingly carved into his chest too. Mottled and moist flesh spelled the words "Paige's turn". I looked up at Paige, who was seemingly crying. Her candle shook in her grasp.

"It's your turn," I whispered, glancing back at Cain's body for a moment. "Let's play before the same happens to us."

Author's Note

Hm. I wish this turned out even more interesting. I'll expand it later on into a better version.

Reviews

[Chadvonswan]

This was the weirdest little story. You should elaborate more on it!

[Mother_Yolk]

Thanks! (: I'd love to elaborate once I have the time...