12 Hours

In late 2019, 29.8% of all of Earth's population was either without a home or holding a debt. The country's governments soon came together to create a new law that would state the following: The world government hereby anounces that every citizen shall be offered a home if not already having one under one circumstance. Every citizen owning a home shall be entered in a live televised series soon to be known as 12 Hours. Once every Friday evening, one home shall be chosen to be on total lockdown for twelve hours 8:00 PM until 8:00 AM (the local time) . In these twelve hours, there will be many travesties in which will attempt to kill the residents. If the resident makes it out alive, they will be showered with fame and fortune. If not, their life will be mourned forever.
After a few years, most people began thinking that this was just a television show that hires actors at random. Little did they know, they could be killed in their home on a normal Friday evening.

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1. Prologue

"Ready?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

He gestures numbers using his fingers, "Okay! And we are live in five, four, three, two."

"Hello, and welcome back to Twelve Hours! The only televised show where you die, and we watch," the man chuckles. "I hope you enjoyed this weeks episode and we will see you next Friday for another excitin ginstallment of Twelve Hours!"

"And cut! That was excellent Sir."
"Thank you very much," the man straightens his silky black bow tie. "Now will you men please escuse me, I need to meet with the Mistress."

The men leave a clearing for him to pass through.

When he arrives in the next room, another man is already there. His gray head is turned towards a blank sphere. He turns his head to greet the new arrival. "Ah! Mister Avery, excellent ending if i might say."

"Thank you sir, I appreciate it. May I approach the Mistress?"
"Yes you may. She seems to be in a good mood today."

Mr. Avery walks towards the sphere, and with a swipe of his hand, it comes alive.

"Welvome Mr. Avery," the machine portrays a woman's voice.

"Location please," Mr. Avery commands.

"Location," the machine pauses for a moment, "Earth."

"Mistress, locate continent."

"Continent, North America."

"Locate country."

"Country, United States of America."

"Locate state."

"State," the machine pauses again, longer this time as she is getting deeper into the location, "California."

"Locate city."

"City, Los Angeles."

"Mistress, please confirm final location on family."

The machine does not respond fora few minutes. "Family, the Clawsons. 2489 Adams Drive. Mother. Father. One son, 15. Three daughters, 18, 6, and 6."

Mr. Avery's mouth curves at the ends.

The gray-headed man looks at him, "Planning for the future are we?"

"Well," responds Mr. Avery, "I do believe this will be an exciting one, don't you, Mr. Ark?"

Mr. Ark smiles, "Aren't they all?"

 

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