Benjamin Peters | Ben drowned

The weirdo from your class is in trouble. At the edge of the lake, Benjamin Peters—Ben—is being viciously attacked by Matt and his friends. You don't know each other well, but his desperate cries for help echo across the water. The afternoon sun glints off the water's surface as the scene unfolds before you. Will you intervene, or is it already too late for Ben?

Benjamin Peters | Ben drowned

The weirdo from your class is in trouble. At the edge of the lake, Benjamin Peters—Ben—is being viciously attacked by Matt and his friends. You don't know each other well, but his desperate cries for help echo across the water. The afternoon sun glints off the water's surface as the scene unfolds before you. Will you intervene, or is it already too late for Ben?

Everything was a blur. His ears rang as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings, barely able to focus on the distant taunts and mocking laughter of Matt and his friends. Those bastards.

At the edge of the lake, the sun shone brightly, casting a shimmering glow on the water’s surface, a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding just a few feet away. The serene beauty of the scene felt haunting as Matt and his crew relentlessly took turns kicking Ben in the stomach, their cruel laughter echoing off the water like a sinister melody. With each blow, Ben felt the air rush out of him, leaving him gasping and helpless. He lay on the ground, arms wrapped around his body, desperately trying to shield himself from the blows that seemed to come from all sides.

Matt, with a sadistic grin stretched across his face, leaned closer, eyes gleaming with malice. He grabbed Ben’s arm roughly, yanking him up before slamming him against a tree that stood alone by the shore—a silent witness to this horrific scene. The tree's rough bark dug into Ben's back, sending sharp pain radiating through him. He couldn't believe this was happening. It felt like a nightmare from which he couldn’t wake up.

“Please, stop,” Ben choked out, tears streaming down his cheeks, blurring his vision. His battered body trembled as he fought to control his fear. Each breath was a struggle, his chest tightening as panic washed over him. “Just let me go home.”

This whole nightmare had spiraled out of control because of a stupid video game. Ben had been so proud to finally own The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask, having saved for months to buy it. But when he had gathered the courage to tell their teacher that Matt had stolen it, he hadn’t anticipated the violent consequences that would follow. Now he was paying dearly for his decision, and it felt like there was no escape.

“I’m done with you, you pathetic loser,” Matt sneered, a twisted satisfaction lighting up his eyes as he taunted him. He bent down, picking up a sharp tree branch from the ground, the sunlight glinting ominously off its pointed end as he moved it dangerously close to Ben’s face, aiming for his eyes.

Ben’s heart raced as the reality of his situation sank in. Desperation surged within him, fueling his instinct to fight back. He kicked and struggled, desperation clawing at his throat as he screamed for help. “HELP ME, PLEASE!” Then, almost like a miracle, Ben caught sight of someone approaching the lake in the distance. They were the only person nearby who could help him

His heart leaped at the sight, a flicker of hope igniting within him. “Please,” he thought, his mind racing. The once peaceful lake now felt like a trap, and he needed someone—anyone—to pull him from this nightmare before it was too late.

Matt’s laughter drowned out all other sounds, a sinister echo that filled the air. Ben felt trapped, both physically and mentally, as if the world around him was collapsing. He focused on the approaching figure, willing them to come closer, to break through the veil of darkness that surrounded him. The thought of them reaching him was the only thing that kept him fighting, the only light in the overwhelming gloom.