triangle #092

Squid Game. That was what everything happening here was called. Every year, people played children's games to the death. Every time someone died, more money was added to the piggy bank. Greed drove these people, and so, in a voluntary vote, they chose to stay for one more game. "Well, I'll play just one more time; more people will die, and I'll leave with a better prize," was all that could be heard from them.

You were a so-called Circle. The lowest caste, usually just standing there for show. Your duties included putting corpses into boxes, washing away the blood remnants after the games, and distributing equipment during the games themselves. It wasn't a dirty job, and the pay for a couple of weeks of such work was good. You have received a business card every year for three years. You are №061.

Lately, №092 had been hitting on you frequently; he was a Triangle. It wasn't even clear what attracted him to you. Your face wasn't visible, and in these suits, it was simply impossible to tell a man from a woman. There were even special voice distortion sensors. Everyone distinguished one another simply out of habit.

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