All Chapters of The Host's Judgement : Chapter 1
- Chapter 10
10 chapters
1. The Price of the Soul
The cracked screen of my phone lit up once again in the dimness of the room, casting a cold bluish light against the peeling walls. It was the fourth notification in less than an hour. I didn’t need to open the banking app to know what it said. Balance: - $ 1,432.10. Power cutoff warning in 48 hours. Imminent eviction notice. I picked up the nearly inkless ballpoint pen and crossed out another line in the notebook where I was futilely trying to make the math of my survival add up. The numbers didn’t balance. I was thirty-two years old, with a literary talent the market had chewed up and spat back out, and exactly fourteen reais in my wallet enough for two cartons of milk and a package of instant noodles that would have to last until the end of the week. I glanced to the side, where an old photo, still in a cracked glass frame, showed better times. An era when deadlines were about manuscript deliveries, not about when I’d be thrown out onto the street with my boxes of books
2. The Banquet of the Condemned
The silence that followed the Host’s announcement was suffocating. No one moved for almost a full minute. The crystal chandelier, now bathed in that sickly red light, cast long, distorted shadows across the walls of the foyer. I glanced to the side and saw Marcus. His square jaw was clenched tight, fists buried in the pockets of his expensive but worn suit jacket. The initial arrogance had evaporated, replaced by cold calculation. “This is ridiculous,” shouted a fat man in a suit that looked three sizes too big, wiping sweat from his forehead with a dirty handkerchief. “This is kidnapping! They can’t lock us in here! I’m calling the police.” He yanked his phone from his pocket. Several others did the same. I already knew the result before I even pulled mine from my jacket pocket. No signal. Not a single bar. Not even for emergency calls. The hotel was completely isolated, blocked by some kind of frequency jammer built into the stone walls. “It’s no use,” said the woman in
3. The First Blood
The floor continued to tilt. The metallic grinding of hidden gears beneath the marble echoed like the bones of a waking monster. Anyone who tried to stand immediately lost their balance, falling onto the decorated floor or sliding toward the brushed-metal doors on the east wall. “Hold on!” I shouted, digging the soles of my boots into the grooves of the solid mahogany table. Beside me, Elena gripped the edge with both hands, her impeccable nails cracking against the wood. The fat man to my left wasn’t so lucky, his weight sent him sliding across the polished floor, knocking over chairs until he slammed into the wall with a groan of pain. When the floor finally stopped moving, we were all cornered at the eastern end of the room, facing the two neon signs that pulsed intermittently: COOPERATION and BETRAYAL. The Host’s voice tore through the darkness moments later: “The mechanics are simple. Before you are the only two exits from this room. If all twenty of you pass through
4. The Dilemma of Trust
The floor beneath our feet sank almost a centimeter with a dry click. I held my breath, expecting stakes similar to the ones that had torn Thomas apart to rain down from the ceiling or for the corridor to turn into a meat grinder. Around me, the eighteen survivors froze in place. The smell of fresh blood still seemed to cling to my nostrils, carried from the room we had just left. But the massacre didn’t come. Instead, the pressure plates clicked again, and a row of white fluorescent lights flickered on along the ceiling, illuminating the corridor that ended in a new, spacious hall with gray walls and completely devoid of any luxurious furniture. In the center of this new space, nineteen individual frosted-glass cabins were lined up, each with a digital screen on the side. The Host’s voice echoed, free of static, seeming to float above our heads: “Congratulations on choosing collective survival… for now. Thomas’s sacrifice was a necessary lesson: arrogance is a mortal sin in t
5. Elena's Mistake
The electronic beep echoed in the confined space of the cabin, sharp and final, like the last beat of a heart on a cardiac monitor. On the screen in front of me, the word I had chosen glowed in static green: SHARE. I had risked everything on the integrity of a stranger. A cold doctor I had known for less than an hour. I held my breath, my chest aching from lack of air, as a loading bar processed the result of Pair Number Three. The cabin’s gears clicked. The screen changed to display the verdict: PAIR 3: Hayes: SHARE Elena Vance: STEAL RESULT: Player 1 (Hayes) punished. Player 2 (Elena) advances with privilege. The blood drained from my face in an instant. A sharp, paralyzing cold rose from the soles of my boots to the pit of my stomach. She had betrayed me. Elena’s rationality, her gentle words at dinner, our mutual survival pact… everything had been a meticulous performance to ensure I would be the sacrificial lamb while she walked away with the advantage. “You bit
6. The Smell of Fear
The oxygen that filled my lungs again had a metallic taste of blood and glass dust. I was still on my knees, coughing, with small shards embedded in the palms of my hands, when the sound of three long, continuous beeps echoed through the gray hall. The red lights inside the cabins of Arthur, Letícia, and Clarice went out, leaving only the fallen bodies in the gloom. “My God… they’re dead. They really died,” Daniela’s voice, the real estate broker, rose in pitch, bordering on hysteria. She pointed at the cabin where Letícia, the woman in the fake fur coat, lay with her face pressed against the glass. “Did anyone doubt it?” Marcus stepped forward, adjusting the sleeves of his crumpled suit jacket as if he had just left a boring business meeting. He didn’t look once at Arthur’s cabin the man he had just betrayed and indirectly murdered. “You killed him, you bastard!” Roberto, the ex-cop, lunged at Marcus, grabbing him by the lapels. Roberto’s physical build was imposing, but the
7. The Painting on the Wall
The scream echoed through the wine-red carpeted corridor violent and shrill, dying out as if an invisible hand had strangled the victim’s throat. I was still holding the Host’s note between my trembling fingers. “You used her back to reach the window…” I crumpled the black paper, shoved it into my jacket pocket, and unlocked my bedroom door with my heart pounding in my throat. The corridor was dark, lit only by emergency lights that cast a sinister reddish glow over the wooden doors. Other survivors were beginning to poke their heads out, frightened. “It came from there! Room 14!” shouted Daniela, the real estate broker, pointing to the end of the corridor. Marcus, Roberto, and Lucas were already striding down the hall. I joined the group. Roberto, using his ex-cop strength, kicked the lock on door 14. The wood cracked and the door gave way, slamming against the inner wall. The scene inside made us stop abruptly. The room belonged to Samuel, the structural engineer. He was
8. The Eclipse Nightclub - Part 1
I slammed the door to my room shut, my heart pounding so hard against my ribs it felt like it wanted to break my bones from the inside out. Samuel’s blood was still fresh in my memory, the metallic smell mixed with the gunpowder from the industrial nail gun invading my nostrils. I leaned my forehead against the cold wood of the door, trying to steady my breathing. That’s when I realized it. The labored breathing echoing in the room wasn’t just mine. My muscles locked up. The darkness in the room was almost total, broken only by a red emergency light beam coming through the gap under the door. Slowly, I slid my hand along the wall until I found the brass light switch. Click. The yellow light from the bedside lamps flooded the room. I sat down on the floor, shock draining my strength. Curled up in the darkest corner of the room, hugging his own knees on top of my bed, was a boy. The hood of his gray sweatshirt was pulled over his head, but I recognized him immediately. It wa
9. The Eclipse Nightclub - Part 2
The main lobby of the Grand Summit Hotel looked even more hostile under the gray light of dawn trying unsuccessfully to break through the armored window panels. The red emergency lighting had been turned off, replaced by surgical white spotlights focused on the center of the circular hall. Fifteen survivors. That was the number remaining on the floating count of the digital panel above the crystal chandelier. Fifteen sinners, each glancing at their neighbor with the fear of someone who knows the next secret revealed could be their own. Gabriel walked glued to my back, his thin fingers gripping the hem of my worn jacket. I could feel his body trembling. Every time I looked at him, the image of his sister Mariana suffocating in the darkness of the Eclipse Nightclub flashed through my mind. Guilt was a silent poison beginning to paralyze my movements. In the center of the lobby, the marble floor had disappeared. A massive square opening, approximately ten meters wide, revealed
10. The Gravity of the Past
The sound of the acrylic breaking was like a rifle shot in the silence of the lobby.The plank with Hugo’s name exploded into dozens of transparent shards under the impact of his hundred kilos. For a fraction of a second, the ex-security guard hung suspended in the air, arms stretched upward in a desperate reflex to grab the side ropes of the bridge.He didn’t reach them. His hands slipped on the rough hemp, tearing away strands of rope and skin.Hugo’s scream was a guttural roar that tore through the elevator shaft as his body plummeted into the void. Four floors. It took only two seconds of free fall, but they felt like an eternity.The impact against the concrete floor of the sub-basement was a wet, heavy, and final thud. THUD.The sound of bones, ribs, and skull shattering all at once echoed up the shaft, rising to us like a macabre echo. Daniela let out a shrill scream, covering her eyes and falling to her knees on the lobby carpet. Down below, Hugo’s body lay in an anatomically