————————————————————————— A L L E G R E T T O The fact that 26 people hadn’t descended into anarchy after two days of captivity was a miracle. Stress levels were at an all-time-high, there was a profound lack of sufficient sleep, the absence of natural sunlight was enough to make anyone go mad, and food and water was nonexistent in their concrete prison. But somehow, the 26 people were hanging on by a thread. The leader himself was surprised; not one of them had spoken a word out of place (besides a few slip-ups on the first day), threatened one of the kidnappers, even tried to slip past and escape. It was… boring. But not in a bad way. Things were bound to unravel at some point, and the leader new this. All the other times the kidnappers had done this, there was always someone who died not to a shotgun shell, but by the bare fists of their comrades. So the quiet was acceptable. For now. Still… out of all the groups that they had taken… this one had the most resolve. Alas, the potentially-rising anxieties and violent tendencies of the group were quenched. Because as each of them woke up from a tumultuous night’s sleep, they found gifts at each of their cots. A small pack of gummies, a child-sized bottle of water, and a roll of elastic bandages. Along with it was a small bag, which had varying amounts of coinage inside. As if on cue, once everyone was awake, the leader’s voice hummed over the intercom. “Good morning, everyone… Today is your time to shine. It’s the big competition.” They explained simply. “Everyone, head to the first floor. The doors are unlocked for you all. Bring the small bag, as well as whatever other items you want to carry around.” They instructed carefully. Everyone did as instructed. On the first floor stood the smaller kidnapper. They seemed a lot better than yesterday, though a bit more fidgety than usual. They seemed to pick up on the tenseness in the air. Someone was going to die today. It was the elephant in the room, they all knew it. “Okay—right, uh, hey everyone.” The smaller one called out, clasping their hands together. “Just follow me—uh, please don’t break off from the crowd, if we find that you’re missing—uh—it’s not really gonna be fun I don’t think.” They instructed, nodding once for everyone to follow them down the hall. They occasionally stopped to adjust the weight of the gun hanging from their shoulder or make sure they had (at least most of) the party trailing behind them. The hallway itself was fairly bland. There were a few doors off to the side, but all of them were closed; except for one, which opened into a rather abysmal room with a singular chair in the middle of it. After 30 seconds or so of walking, they entered a massive warehouse-like space with the words ‘Studio 17’ hanging over the entryway in bold lettering. In the middle of the room was an elevated platform made of some sort of crate covered by black cloth. In front of the stage was a fold-out table with 5 chairs behind it; four of the chairs were already occupied by the kidnappers. Behind the five seats at the front were exactly 26 chairs. The two kidnappers from the previous two days, being the female and the brooding blonde, were recognizable from behind. The other two weren’t. One was a muscular ginger. He wore a loose collared shirt, which he had rolled the sleeves up on. He was chatting with the others contently, leaned forward in their chair surprisingly-good posture. The other was pencil thin and extremely lanky; his hair dyed silver (which almost looked ash-blonde) and was tied up into a loose bun. He wore a turtleneck. His mask bulged a bit, as he wore glasses underneath. A tattoo of a flower wrapped around his neck. They were leaned back in their chair, not bothering to talk to the others. Instead, they eyed the contestants eagerly. “Okay—go take a seat in the chairs behind the kidnappers… You guys will do great.” They instructed, whispering the last part before joining the other four in the front. They all went quiet as they took a seat. Once everyone was seated, the voice began to speak once again. “Welcome, everyone. Before I continue, I’d like to introduce you all to the new faces at the front... The ginger one is my communications expert. He makes sure you all stay in line, song-wise. The one with the dyed hair is our resident medic. If something were to happen to you, you’ll be visiting him.” They explained. “Now. The competition. Before you go, you are allowed to speak 10 words of your choosing to convince people why you should be voted. Then, you will come up on stage and sing your song. People will give you a certain amount of points. Whoever has the most points wins; whoever has the least… loses.” They continued cryptically. (cont.)
