Rules of the Game

The taxi sped down the empty road, the hum of its engine blending with the rhythmic pounding of my heart. The driver said nothing, his face illuminated only by the dashboard lights. His expression was unreadable, but his presence was suffocating.

“Where are we going?” I asked, my voice shaky.

He didn’t answer.

The city lights faded into the distance, replaced by winding, desolate roads lined with tall, menacing trees. Every so often, the headlights caught something moving in the darkness—a branch swaying, an animal darting away, or something… else.

After what felt like hours, the taxi came to a sudden stop in the middle of nowhere. The driver turned off the engine, and silence enveloped us. Without a word, he got out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

I hesitated, but when he opened my door and gestured for me to follow, I knew I had no choice. The cold night air bit at my skin as I stepped out, and the faint glow of the moon revealed a small clearing ahead.

In the center of the clearing was a large wooden box. It was old, its surface scratched and weathered, with a rusty padlock hanging from the latch. Next to it stood a table with a single candle burning on it.

The driver leaned against the taxi, his crooked smile returning. “Welcome to your first challenge,” he said.

“What is this?” I demanded.

He chuckled. “A game, kid. You said you were ready, remember?”

“I never agreed to any of this!” I shouted.

The driver’s expression darkened. “You got in the car. That’s agreement enough. Now, here’s how it works: Inside that box is something important. Something you’ll need to move forward. But to open it, you’ll have to solve a riddle.”

I stared at the box, the flickering candle casting eerie shadows on its surface. “What happens if I can’t solve it?”

The driver’s grin widened. “Then you lose. And losing isn’t an option you’ll enjoy.”

A chill ran down my spine. “Fine. What’s the riddle?”

He stepped closer, his voice low and deliberate.

“I’m always running, but I never move. You can hear me, but I make no sound. I have no beginning and no end. What am I?”

My mind raced. Running but not moving? Heard but silent? No beginning or end? I repeated the riddle in my head, trying to make sense of it.

“Time’s ticking,” the driver said, glancing at his watch.

I looked around the clearing, hoping for some kind of clue. The candle flickered, its flame dancing in the cold wind. That’s when it hit me.

“Time,” I said aloud. “The answer is time.”

The driver’s smile faded for a moment, replaced by a look of mild surprise. Then he laughed, clapping his hands slowly. “Not bad, kid. Not bad at all.”

He tossed me a small key. I caught it and hurried to the box, unlocking the rusty padlock. As the lid creaked open, I peered inside.

It was… a clock. A simple, old-fashioned pocket watch, its hands frozen at exactly 3:00 AM.

“What’s this for?” I asked, holding it up.

The driver’s eyes gleamed. “That’s your lifeline. Keep it safe.”

Before I could question him further, the candle suddenly blew out, plunging the clearing into darkness. When I turned back to the taxi, the driver was gone.

The car was still there, its headlights casting eerie beams into the trees. On the hood of the taxi was another note.

“The game has just begun. Follow the clock.”

As I stared at the pocket watch, its frozen hands started ticking again, counting down from an hour.

Whatever this game was, I was on a timer. And I had no idea what would happen when it ran out.