Chapter 1
Unlucky Thirteen
A young boy whipped through the forest faster than the icy winter breeze. Chilly winds chased him as he sprinted across the ice-coated floor. He slipped and stumbled, but never stopped running, even when he fell headlong and cut a gash into his head. He had bounced back up, blood pouring from his forehead, and carried on running, simply gripping the tree branches for stability. He'd been running for hours, but he couldn't stop - something was driving him on deep inside. Perhaps it was the fact that it was nearly thirteen. The time was running out.
The boy had never felt so alone, nor so scared. He tried to conjure up his imaginary friends, but they remained absent. It was as though they had been stolen away as well. He wished he had his real friends, Teacup especially. Frozen tears slid down his cheek, which were whipped away by the passing winds. The boy held back a shudder and pressed on.
Why had they had to come and live here? The question roared in the boy's head repeatedly, and nothing could silence it. If they hadn't, he would have been sitting in his real home by a warm, blazing fire, his fingers stabbing furiously at the shiny buttons of a Nintendo DS. If he had been sitting there, that would have been his biggest worry - maneuvering whatever character through a deadly level trying to save others from an evil villain without loosing his last available life. Now he was the player character, he was running through a death-trap, he was trying to save others from death, he was trying to do this without loosing his one available life - everything seemed the same...apart from one small difference that changed everything.
It was real.
It wasn't a video game. His life - and many other lives - were at the hands of this young, thirteen-year-old boy. His death would reflect on others, he would be a practical murderer. He had to get there before she did. Although she could run faster, she wouldn't slip on the ice, and she wouldn't have to stop for pain...
He caught a glimpse of her, the traitor. She had helped him, she had told him everything, she had been the only one who shared his suspicions...she had been his friend. He narrowed his eyes at her, glaring with malice though still thundering along the ice at a fast pace. He clenched his fists and wrenched the thin branch off the tree he'd been holding onto to stablise himself, causing him to topple once more. He didn't care. Rolling over on his bloodied head, he opened his mouth and screamed a high, whiny scream that cut the silence like a blade.
"STOP!" the boy shouted, sounding not the faintest bit human. "TRAITOR, STOP!"
He didn't expect her to, but she turned and looked at him, her expression almost pitying. However, her face was turned to rage before the boy could be sure.
"I'M A TRAITOR? THEN SO ARE YOU!" she screamed hysterically. She smirked, her hardly-there eyes almost flashing, and then went on to say faintly "Better hurry up, clock's ticking. There's only room for one winner."
The boy's face flashed with determination. He hauled himself to his feet and shot off like an athelete. Never had he ran so fast. He caught up with the startled girl in a matter of seconds and thundered on, blood roaring in his ears, heart beating in his throat, black mist hanging over his eyes, and fire scraping his skin.
He saw a break in the trees, leading out into a circle in the forest. He saw his family tied to the seats, his friends bound to the stone chairs. There were eight of them round the edge. A painful smile broke out on his face at the sight of them, but it soured at the sight of the four chairs in the centre of the circle, in which the girl's family sat, their faces falling when they saw who was in the lead. There was a spare seat in that circle, the one he wanted...
He was sure, for the first time in hours, that he would win this race, that he would get the twelfth seat...
...That was until the girl desperatly grabbed hold of the his coat collar, wrenched it back and choked him, causing him to fall backwards and land heavily onto the floor.
The girl whooped in triumph, though there was a thick sadness in her voice as she sped past him. The boy lay sprawled on his front, his face tarnished with cinders of ice and streaks of blood, but soon they were accompanied by streams of tears pouring down his cheeks. He looked up through his bleary eyes and screamed his high, piercing scream.
"YOU TRAITOR!"
The ghostly girl turned round, a flicker of sadness flying over her face. She stared at the boy, now laying on the floor and making no attempt to get back up. She swallowed heavily...and sank into the twelfth seat.
The boy started to howl, thumping the floor and tearing his hair from his sore, bloody head, but picked himself up and stumbled over to the thirteenth seat, staring down at its rugged grey surface that he knew he had to sit in. He turned round to his family, who were silently sobbing, and scowled at the four chairs surrounding him, and particularly at the people who were sitting in them. They were crying, but with joy instead. The boy turned and lowered himself into the seat.
"I'm sorry," he sobbed, as he sat down.
As it was, the clock struck thirteen, and he lost.
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Just a note to say that there is good reason for this chapter to be rather unexplained - and there is equally good reason why I haven't described any of the characters' features! It's all to do with a twist.
Please review and point out any typos, grammar problems or spelling mistakes, I welcome constructive critisim.
Next chapter will be posted soon. 
EDIT: Thanks, TheTruthLiesWithin, for pointing out all those mistakes. XD And just another little thing to add, if you are wondering why there are stone seats at the centre of the forest, then you will find out in due course. It's one of those chapters that make proper sense in time...
