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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #1913393
In a dark, futuristic world, one girl finds her self amidst death and destruction.
         I was asleep when they came for me; the men in black. They kicked down the door stormed through the house, looking for me. As soon as I heard the door get kicked open, I stood up. I slept fully dressed most nights, in case of a burglary. It’s not like we had anything to steal though, we were just as poor as everyone else. Of course, with my signing on with this game, my family would have some food, and be on every thief’s radars again. I stood in front of my bedroom door, with my hands on my head, waiting to get taken away by the men in black. I waited for what seemed like an eternity, until one of the four storming my house opened my door, gun at the ready. Apparently some people had second thoughts about going.

         The man lunged forward and grabbed my arm, before I had time to react. He pushed me through the cluttered tin house, and onto the dark, rainy street. The entire neighborhood came out to watch. Apparently I was the big new gossip. As I was shoved past the crowd of elderly onlookers, one woman grabbed my arm, and said something to me I’ll never forget.

         “Be merciful, Dahlia.” She said, through desperate, tear drenched lips. While it may seem as though that was a small, trivial thing to be saying to someone about to be sent to her death. What stuck with me was how she said it. I can’t quite explain it, but it, made me want to win. Well, it made me want to win more than I already did. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to win, but I wasn’t expecting anything special. I knew I was probably going to die. One, out of twenty-six was going to survive. The odds are stacked heavily against me.

         As I got to the transport for the participants, I had a feeling of dread come over me, forcing my head to bow, my eyes to become foggy from tears, and my heart to plunge. The man pushing me put one of my arms around his shoulder, and carried me to the door. He got something I couldn’t quite see out of his pocket. Apparently participants leaving their homes for good, and struggling against it was rather common, because the man pulled a syringe out of his pocket, and stabbed it into my right thigh. I felt a cleansing, cooling, fire spread through my veins, making my vision go dark.



Chapter 1: Becca



         I woke up, dazed, confused, and blurry. The sun was four times too bright, and gravity was four times too strong. I suppose those are the after affects of a game-grade tranquilizer. My brain was also four times too fuzzy. I couldn’t think clearly. Apparently I thought that falling backwards onto the ground and waiting it out was a good idea; turns out it was.

         The second time I woke up, it was dusk. My head cleared up, but I was still not anywhere familiar. I could see a wall in the distance, in all directions. I didn’t see any corners, so I assumed it was a circular area I was trapped in. I didn’t know if all the participants were in here, or if it was just me. The game-creators like to do new things. I stood up, and realized I was in the same clothes I was taken away in; blue jeans and a long sleeve black t-shirt.  I looked into the sky for some form of guidance. I noticed where the sun was going down, so that was west. I looked to the north, and saw a digital clock. It was seven thirteen, and above the clock were two sets of numbers. Both said thirteen, so I assumed it was the survivor count, one set for boys, and the other for girls.

         A booming voice seemed to come out of the very Earth, “Now that you’re all awake I can finally explain the rules. You all have one week to kill one of the other participants. After each kill the clock resets. If no one dies within that time, then you all die. Now, remember, this is being televised, so try to be a group of dears and try to die in a visually striking way? Thanks.” The voice echoed for what seemed an eternity. Then there was a loud silence.

         I head a light breeze rustle the leaves in a nearby tree, a babbling brook nearby carrying water to wherever it was destined by the creators to go. A branch snapped, forty six degrees to my left, thirty yards away, possibly thirty-five. My eyes darted around the area to my left, searching for anything that could have created that noise. A man stepped out from behind some bushes, seemingly doing it as clumsily as possible.

         He didn’t notice me staring at him with no expression. He was too busy dusting off his coat jacket. Apparently wearing a full tuxedo to a game of murder is a good idea. He glanced up, directly at me. Our eyes met. His pupils were covered in fear, and greed. He wanted this money for selfish purposes and that was exactly why he was going to survive. The hero’s never survive.

         “Are you going to help me, or stare at me like some kind of idiot?” He yelled at me with a slight accent I couldn’t quite place. I chose not to respond, I don’t like being yelled at, and I doubted this man could offer me anything of value. I continued to stare blankly at him, rarely even blinking. “Hey! I’m talking to you! What, you deaf?” He yelled with more anger masking his cowardice.

         A small splash, barely audible as the water sounds adjust to a new object, blocking a small part of the stream. The block is gone; the water is back to normal. A foot. I walked past the man, into the bushes, and chose to lay down, effectively hiding myself. The stupid, cowardly man stares at me with a look of disbelief in his eyes, “Now what are you doing? I can’t hardly see you!” A slim body shape is visible behind some bushes across from me. She knew how to move with the environment, I’ll give her that, but she wasn’t good enough. She stepped out, somehow silently. The idiotic man was still trying to talk to me still, completely unaware of his impending doom. He could be useful to me. Do I save him, or let him die?

         She was directly behind him, drawing a sharpened piece of wood from her belt. She put her arm around the man’s neck, poised to drag the serrated edge across it, cutting his jugular. I went from lying down to crouching. She was whispering things into his ear, probably bragging about her childish ability to sneak around. I launched myself, aiming to hit her head with my left shoulder, disabling my left arm, but hopefully giving her some form of concussion. This man was smarter than I previously anticipated, He used this opportunity to grab the hand she placed on his neck, and leaned forward, picking her up, and giving me a larger target. My shoulder made contact with the tip of her nose, breaking it, and pushing her off the man.

         We both landed in a tangled mess in the ground. I managed to get onto my feet before she did, and used the opportunity to grab the knife she so kindly made me. When she finally stood up, I was standing five feet away from her, holding her weapon, with a bruised shoulder. She was holding her nose with her right hand, trying to stem the bleeding. The man walked towards her, grinning, and patted her on the shoulder as he walked past. Without any sign he turned on a dime, placed his hands perfectly, and pulled. He broke her neck. Her lifeless body slumped on the ground. The man started to laugh.



Chapter II: Alex



         “Oh my God!” A woman screaming from the left, I hadn’t seen her. “Why did? What just? Oh my God!” This woman was obviously out of her element. I felt a little sorry for her, but not enough to intervene in any life-threatening situation she may find herself trapped in.

         “We just had to take care of an early starter.” The man said, with laughter boiling from his belly. “What, you want to be next?” This man was obviously prepared to kill many people. When did his soul die?

         The realization hit me like a tsunami, coming over me, washing my humanity away. I was a murderer. If I hadn’t intervened, that girl would still be alive. Was my soul still there?

         “You killed Becca! You monster!” The girl screamed at him. Her fury was leaking out of her every pore like steam from pipes. This woman had entirely too much empathy to be in this game. She must have signed on knowing she wasn’t coming back. Poor girl. She loved someone too much. That’s why she was going to die.

         “Both of you shut up. There’s no need for anyone else to die today.” I said, surprising both others with my faux firm, authoritative speech. They stared at me afterwards, seeming not to comprehend my words. I chose that moment to disappear. I turned and left them behind me.

         “Wait! Where are you going? What do you intend to do?” The man called after me. I chose to ignore him, choosing to return to my silence. I heard the light footfalls of the girls feet creep closer to me. She was following me. “You know, three stand a better chance of surviving than just one do,” He called after me. Yeah, because three can totally get out of this alive. I think I may be too sarcastic, even when I’m thinking to myself.

         He chose to hop on the bandwagon and follow me. I didn’t need, or want followers. Maybe I could find some other group, and ditch them in that one. Luckily, I don’t need to worry about food; the game-creators supplied everything we would need, aside from weapons.

         After an hour of walking, them conversing, and me coming to terms with the fact that I had inadvertently killed a girl, I found out a bit about each of them. The man was a drug dealer who had a hit put on his head, and was in this game trying to fund his escape onto another continent. His name was Shane.

         The girl hadn’t a slightly more complicated story. She loved children, but couldn’t get pregnant, withholding the reason as to why. She lived with her four sisters, two of whom were prostitutes out of necessity, and the other two were physically incapable of manual labor. Her profession was dealing with costumer complaints at one of the three remaining mega-corporations. She was a frequent victim of some of the less glamorous needs of men, but chose to never tell any authority, likely because they would repeat the act. Her name was Alex.

         We came to a tree line, think with trees, planted unnaturally close forming an impassible barrier. We stood, staring in disbelief. There was no wind. Leafs rustled, high in the treetops, something was up there. I saw a flash of red, dashing across the limbs. A shoe. The others followed my gaze, trying to see what I was seeing.

         “Are you friend, or foe?” A soft, yet definitely from a male, voice called, seeming to come from all around us. A ventriloquist, fantastic.

         “There has already been a kill; no one else needs to die.” The girl called back, looking for the source of the voice. This seemed to appease whoever was talking.

         A man in a bright, flamboyant red jacket leapt from a low hanging limb of the tree. I had hardly seen him, he was good. He landed softly, hardly making a sound. This man was a hunter, as for why he was in this game, I could not figure out. “Well then, hello everybody.” He said, in a cheery, hearty voice. “My name is Keelan, Irishman extraordinaire. Whom, may I ask, are all of you?”

         “My name is Shane, my good sir.” My follower replied, with genuine surprise in his voice. Apparently someone acting decent to him was unheard of. This also took me by surprise, Shane acting like a human.

         Alex was more reluctant to reply, most likely suspecting this Irishman of indecent intentions. “My name is none of your, business.” She said with a hostile undertone, poorly hidden.

         “I assure you, miss, I only mean to become acquainted with you, before we must part ways. I had been following you for a great while, and truth be told, you aren’t what interests me. Your leader is what interests me. She shows no emotion, and knows that having you two follow her will harm her before not long. Are you all aware that you are being followed by more malicious men?” His voice rang with truth, and sincerity. I had a thought in the back of my mind that someone was following us, but I was hoping he would try for the weakest of this group of three, allowing me time to escape.

         I chose to keep my silence, and not divulge anything about myself without meaning to. “Oh yeah, she doesn’t speak, trying to give nothing, but find everything.” Shane said in response to my silence. He was rather clever, apparently seeing my intention laid bare. This told him a lot about me, more than I wanted him to know.

         Keelan whistled a signal to others to come out of hiding. Apparently he wasted no time gathering a group. A true, natural leader. “We made a settlement while The Silent One was sleeping the tranquilizer hangover off. Care to take a gander?” He asked us, without any trace of malice in his voice. My followers agreed without pause. My gaze met with Keelan, he was looking for any hint of argument. I found no harm in trailing along, keeping a distance in case of surprise attack from anyone or anything. The creators were fond of using cheap tricks to force us to fight, either each other or the very environment itself.

         An hour of solid walking, hearing Alex complain about a leg cramp, Shane brag about his narcotics empire, and Keelan studying me later we arrived at a grassy clearing. “We’re here,” Keelan said with finality.

         Shane felt a need to point the obvious out for everyone to see. “There’s nothing here. Did you lie to us, you Irish drunk?” Shane spoke with genuine malice in his voice. He was preparing his mind to kill Keelan.

         “I’m ignoring the Irish comment, but this is exactly what I was hoping you would see. Nothing. We did a good job of hiding it, right?” Keelan replied with his typical cheery nature. He’s smart, almost too smart, so what is he doing in this game? He could easily make a living doing any number of things. Not a good living, in this world, but a living none-the-less.

         Keelan ignored any further comments unworthy of mention in this journal, and led us to a small natural seeming cave well hidden. Before I stepped inside I glanced at the counter of those still alive. One person was dead, so one set read twelve, the other was still thirteen. No one else had died. Inside he had made a make-shift camp. Slightly protruding on the side was a metal tube with an opening. The creators gave the contestants food so as to keep us from starving. Another ploy to ensure we have to kill each other. He allowed us to make a home here, joining his small group. I was all too happy to let him take my followers on as his own. I chose to go into the least populated area, and set up camp there.

         Days went by without any sign of other people. Twenty-five were still alive, and only eight were present in this cave. The danger of this place being found was increasing by the second. Typically there is at least one nomadic group of roughly three predatory people who would find encampments, kill everyone inside, and steal all of the tools, and move on to another until they had to turn on each other. Many games followed this typical pattern.

         At the end of each day, Keelan would cook a dinner, usually containing a mixture of whatever the game creators gave us and whatever Keelan could hunt. He would make us all sit in a circle around a fire, and talk to each other. Every day at this time, I would usually stare at the counters to see if anyone had died yet, and inch away from the group, each night sitting slightly farther away.

         Each night I had terrible nightmares, and beautiful dreams. Usually I’d have them at the same time, one swirling into the other like oil and water, never completely mixing. One night I had an especially perfect dream, but also the perfect nightmare. I was sitting in a wooden house overlooking a grassy field on one side, and a beautiful lake on the other. It was a perfect sunny day out, with scattered pure clouds. I would sit, watching my family go about their lives. I couldn’t get up, I couldn’t speak, and I couldn’t be seen. I just simply watched them, as they cooked, ate, played, laughed. It was beautiful, but it was beautiful without me. I existed differently from them, and they were perfectly content.

         I woke up crying silently after that one. No one heard me, at least I think so. If anyone knew, they didn’t say a word about it, and gave no hint that they did know.

         It was six days, twenty-three hours, and forty minutes since Becca died, and no one else had died yet. It was during dinner when everyone else noticed. Either someone dies in the next twenty minutes, or the game creators will find a way to ensure some of us die. Immediately. Since my arrival here, Keelan and his group have been in a hyper-productive state. They made an abundant amount of wooden weapons, some of which were given to my followers and I. Shane chose a set of two daggers, Alex chose a knife because she, “Didn’t believe in violence.” Seriously, what was she doing here? I chose a wooden sword, and decided to modify it to fit my needs. I ripped off most of my sleeves and used the cloth to make a grip on the handle, and chose to make the blade, close to the base, serrated.

         “Well, we aren’t going to survive by sitting here and staring at the counter all night, some one’s gotta die.” Shane spoke up, ripping me from my train of thought. He was right though. I cared not who everyone decided on, I had made myself enough of a ghost that most of them forgot I existed. If any of these people were going to be voted to the death, it wouldn’t be me, the ghost, or Keelan, the leader. My assumption was that either Shane or Alex was going to get the ax. Literally.

         During each night’s dinners, I placed myself farther and farther away from the group, by this night, I was in a dark corner, effectively invisible. I could see the entire exchange of words, glares, malice, and affection. I could see everyone’s secret thoughts, their love, their hate, and their jealousies. I knew these people better than they themselves did. And yet, I didn’t know their names.

         “Ok, look. There are only eight of us here; the other seventeen people might kill each other before we have to. Let’s not be hasty.” The voice of reason rang out, belonging to the one named Keelan.

         Shane countered, “We should still be prepared, I say put a person’s head on the block, get an axe ready, and if no one dies within the last three seconds, then goodbye, nice knowing ya.” The devil should be proud of his advocate.

         Some heated words were exchanged, while I tuned them all out, just focused on myself. I thought of home, of my sister. She was so beautiful, so smart. What would she do in this scenario? She’d say something to get everyone to calm down. She’d know what the right thing to do was. The problem was, I didn’t. Either way, if I participated in this, I would be hurting somebody. I wish I could get this money without my hands stained ruby.

         I fought back tears. My guilt was swelling in my nasal passages, making it difficult to breathe, my tear ducts overflowed with grief, my head hung for those who will die, myself included. I chose now to come to terms with my life. This was a televised event; I could probably get a message out to my sister. I couldn’t say that I love her; they would just edit that out. I had to create a message, but only one that she would understand, a grand gesture so they would show it. I was at a complete loss. I loved her, but I never showed it. She was always there for me, and yet I took that for granted. I was a monster to her, and she stuck by.

         “Dahlia!” Keelan yelled to me, “You ok there?” Right. There was a debate going on. How did he see me?

         I replied with a silent stare. He knew what this meant, but no one else did. He knew I was alright, as long as I kept doing what I was before. My tears dried on my cheek. I sat in the fetal position, resting my head on the side of a tree, gazing at the crowd of seven all yelling at each other, over who should die, if any should. Keelan was also watching. We had one minute left.

         In a couple other previous games a situation similar to this had been shown before. When none of them died, the creators then intervened, doing things like lighting a person on fire, or using a wall mounted turret to kill them. All crude methods and they hated doing it. Sometimes they would execute multiple people, so as to teach the other contestants not to make the same mistakes.

         Five seconds left. Four. Three. Two. One. Nothing. Everyone was completely fine. Everyone stared at each other, waiting to see who was going to die. The seconds went by like a snail. The seven who were just at each other’s throats were now in each other’s arms, hugging, rejoicing, and laughing. I wasn’t fooled, not for a second. One of them was going to die. I braced myself for what had to come next.

         Alex was crying from happiness, crouching on the ground, completely unaware. Without warning a metallic spike came up from the ground, just when her head was completely unobstructed from the ground, going directly through her head, dragging her limp body with it, as it went higher and higher in the sky. When her feet were ten feet from the ground, the spike withdrew back to where it came, leaving the body.



Chapter III: Shane



         Everyone stared in disbelief. We couldn’t process what just happened. No one knew what to do. “Oh, well. She couldn’t have cut it anyway. Easier on the rest of us, right?” Shane used his words as the bomb to shatter the glass silence.

         “You amoral, terrible bastard! What’s wrong with you! A poor, kind girl just died!” Someone in the group yelled at him, while another drew his weapon. This was going to get ugly, fast.

         “Hey, let’s all just calm down, I was just saying what you were all thinking.” Shane hid behind these words like a paper shield.

         The crowd of now six turned on him, mobbing him, dragging him to the ground. He couldn’t stand a chance. I took this moment to extradite myself from the on-goings of this group, and withdrew to the cave. I had seen enough blood today. I chose to hide in a spot I found, hard to find but easy to see out of. As I lay, thinking about my own life, wondering when it was going to end the crowd grew louder and louder, Keelan started yelling and getting involved. I tuned them out, and went into emotional shock. I cried. I threw up.

         About an hour later, Shane was dragged into the cave, bloody and broken. One of his legs was gone, an unclean cut. The other was broken at the knee. There was no way he could escape on foot. His hands were shattered, disfigured. Their plan was to keep him alive for just moments shy of a week. Good idea, but very cruel. I closed my eyes, and silently cried myself to sleep.

         The days ahead started to blend together; I woke, ate, thought, ate, thought, ate, then slept. I was better fed here than at home. I repeated this for three days, until Keelan gave the group some troubling news during dinner.

         “You all know I go out and hunt, correct?” He said in a serious voice. He wasn’t the same after seeing first-hand what this game was. “Well, I started noticing some things. I think a large group is heading here. They aren’t friendly.” The air was soaked in fear. “We should either prepare for war, or relocate.”

         “We move at six thirty in the morning.” I said firmly, enforcing my will upon others. I rarely spoke, so my speech startled everyone aside from Keelan, who regarded me with a lack of any of his previous lightheartedness. Everyone stared at me, expecting more.

         “You know, the creators don’t exactly put signs up, telling us where the food is. I think we should stay. Who knows, maybe they won’t find this cave.” One man from the group said, hoping others would value his opinion. Others in the group gave their consent. It seemed the only one who wanted to relocate was me.

         We made the preparations over the next two days, at the end of which they chose to end Shane’s now miserable life, though I suspect it always was.



Chapter IV: Brian, Doug, Jack, Keelan, Shannon



         In the morning they should arrive. Keelan timed their arrival, and the group trusted him. I didn’t doubt him, but I wasn’t convinced completely. I wasn’t going to argue that we needed to prepare for a group of hunters to come and stumble upon us. We were all more than ready. Oh, how we were wrong. Keelan said their group consisted of four. There were seven of us total. We outnumbered them, almost by a two to one ratio.

         I crouched at the mouth of the cave, feeling the grass, taking in my surroundings. I had spent the majority of the last two days learning the lay of the land, feeling it, knowing it. This was now my pasture, my life, as I was its. I knew I was going to have to leave, after the battle. I will miss this place. My life is more important than being in a place I loved though. I looked up at the spot where Alex died, at the bloodstained grass. The others moved the body, dumped it in the forest nearby, along with Shane’s. Alex received a burial, while Shane received muttered curses, and spit.

         I waited until ten minutes before their projected arrival time, and grabbed my sword, and toyed with it, feeling the handle covered in cloth, the serrated section just above the handle, then the smooth edge, so sharp for a wooden stick of death, so quite.

         Five minutes left. I wondered who would die, who would live, and who would be wounded. I wondered if I would kill. I didn’t want to, but I would if my life was in danger. I had to; I was one of two sources of income for my family.

         Four foreigners to this place stood at the edge of the clearing. One stood holding a spear, one with a dagger and short-sword, both made of metal. The third held nothing, but I suspected his hands were more dangerous than any spear. The last held a prize, a mechanical device. Where did they get the metal weapons, and the device? The creators rarely gave any group weapons, favoring the crude methods we would devise ourselves, although hiding weapons wasn’t unheard of. What was interesting to me was the device; I hadn’t any idea of what it did. It was a small gun-looking thing, but it didn’t have any visible ammunition. It reminded me of the fabled “tough” gun, the AK-47. The AK had passed its hundredth birthday just over three years ago; it was strange for them to put one in the game. The man lifted the device, and aimed it directly at me.

         I stood, calm and collected, staring directly at the device. The three other beings laughed, and grinned the same smile shared by death himself. They were dangerous. He squeezed the handle of the device, letting loose a small round ball, brightly colored and slow moving. I saw it coming, and side-stepped with minutes to spare. The speed was hilariously slow, moving no faster than a crawling infant. The ball changed course, it was going to follow me. It took it a bit of time to change, so I could repeat when it was closer. I yelled, “We have guests!” to Keelan, praying he was ready. Keelan emerged from the cave with a wooden broadsword. It suited him, a true knight. The others followed him. I put up my hand, warning them not to come close to me; the dangerous sphere was closing in. I waited for another minute, allowing it to come closer. I backed up against a tree, and leaned against it. It took it about thirty seconds in the past to change course to intercept me. I timed its distance, storing away its speed for future reference. It was going to hit me in twenty-nine seconds. I stepped to the left, looking again at the shooter. He was grinning. Why would he be grinning? His party started to walk closer to Keelan, wielding their weapons.

         I watched the ball. It was five seconds away from the tree, when I realized. It was a bomb. I started running, as fast as my legs could carry me. It was difficult to get very far within five seconds. Upon detonation, I felt a searing heat at my back; I was lifted off the ground, the blast to carried me. The crushing feeling continued for what seemed an eternity. I landed on the ground, with my left arm ablaze. I rolled, trying to put of the flames of death, searing my arm. As deaths flame was put out, I looked up, seeing the shooter five feet from me, his eyes ablaze with his burning, dead soul. This man was going to kill me. He aimed the gun at me, directly at my head. He winked with arrogance.

         A shift of movement to the left, a red flash. The shooter was on the ground and Keelan on top of him, ripping the shooter apart. Keelan saved my life. I stood quickly, holding my burnt arm. I surveyed the field, and saw the group belonging to Keelan fleeing. The spearman was chasing one, Doug, I think. The spear was thrown, and went through Doug’s knee, effectively ensuring he wouldn’t escape. The spearman walked over to him, whimpering on the ground, the ruby water of life leaking from his knee. The thrower stood over him, grabbed Doug’s jaw, put his foot on Doug’s head, and yanked up. Doug lost his jaw. He was going to die quickly. One of Keelan’s, Brian, tackled the thrower. Brian was no fighter, and the thrower quickly overpowered him, and snapped his spine.

         The one without weapons, the dangerous one was chasing a girl, Shannon. He tackled her, put her on her back, and ripped her stomach open. I threw up. I turned back to Keelan and the Shooter’s fight. The shooter’s arms were pinned under Keelan’s knee, rendering him helpless against Keelan’s assault. Keelan pounded his fists into the Shooter’s head, again, and again, only when a bloody pulp remained, with small shards of white bone littering the mess, did Keelan finally stand up. I puked again.

         A flash of grey iron, stabbed Keelan in the side, knocking him on his knees. Keelan sat for a moment, before standing up, pulling the dagger out of his back, and put it in the stabbers eye, pushing until the tip came out the back of his skull. I started walking backwards, away from the battle, toward the dark forest. The dangerous one came sprinting towards Keelan, as did the spearman, after getting his spear back. They arrived at the same time, both trying to tackle Keelan to the ground, but failing. Keelan stood strong, like a tower of stone and mortar. The spearman recovered first, and stabbed his spear into Keelans foot, pinning it to the ground. Keelan roared in pain, only growing angrier. He grabbed the spearman by his skull, and tossed him aside, then turning towards the dangerous one, who grabbed the dagger out of his friends’ skull, and stabbed it into Keelans chest. The spearman recovered, and grabbed the spear out of his foot, and stabbed it into Keelans chest. He was still alive, and he was still allowing me time to escape. I doubled my backward pace. Both attackers withdrew their weapons, and used them again, and again on Keelans chest. Keelan was going to die.

         I turned, fought back tears, and ran at full speed into the woods, never looking back at the carnage. I heard Keelan roar, “Survive, Dahlia! Survive!” The sound that followed was a sickening sound of a spear, going in through the base of the neck, and out through Keelans side.



Chapter V:  Zane



         I ran for what seemed an eternity. When I reached an impassible wall of trees, I ran along the edge. I ran until my legs burned, and my lungs were fully ablaze. Then I ran some more. When I was about to fall from exhaustion, I climbed a tree, and slept. I woke in the dead of night. The clock told me it was one in the morning. I surveyed my surroundings, hoping to find nothing of interest. My hopes were filled.

         I climbed down from the tree, loneliness crushing my spirit. I was alone in a game of murder. Loners rarely survive. To my back was the tree I slept in, to my right were more trees and same to my left. Straight ahead of me were more trees, but sparsely planted. That was the only route I could travel.

         I stepped forward, feeling my sore legs burn with each hesitant step I took. My mind was traveling at the speed of light, hardening my resolve. I had to survive. I was going to survive. I was going to kill the man that took Keelan’s life. Keelan deserved that much.

         I walked forward, wondering in which direction the cave was in. I dropped my sword there when my arm was ablaze. I checked my arm, and it looked almost completely healed. I guess the creators didn’t want anyone dying from infection. Good. I could use this arm to kill my enemy. I started walking forward, for lack of different direction. This gave me time to think. I couldn’t just merely walk up to the killer, I had to be smart. I knew how to use my sword, providing it wasn’t looted or burned, I could use it. I also didn’t know which one had actually struck the killing blow, the one with the dangerous hands, or the spearman. They both had to die, but how?

         I entered a clearing a few hours later, and saw hell. The trees were burned and broken. The cave was closed from a collapse. The ground was stained red in seemingly random spots. The killers left the bodies to rot. They didn’t even bother to pile them. This could give me an opportunity. I could use the bodies to arrange a message to my sister. The problem was how I could tell her that I love her in a way that won’t get censored. Symbols. I could arrange the bodies in a symbol, one that only she would recognize as a symbol. What from our shared childhood would say such a thing?

         It hit me; a triangle. We often talked about how simple they were, yet how beautiful. They were the most sturdy geometric figures, and they were simple enough not to get censored. What kind of people would make a symbol out of a triangle? At least, that was my thinking.

         It took me just over an hour to arrange the bodies in the shape, now I had to make sure that the cameras would film them. I burned them. That would definitely be noticed. The only downside was I would go down in the history of the game as ‘that crazy lady who burned bodies in a triangle.’ A minor and insignificant price to pay.

         Once they were well ablaze, I focused on finding my weapon, or any weapon for that matter. After searching for what seemed an eternity, completely exposed, I found my wooden sword, somehow almost untouched by death’s flame. I picked it up, feeling its light weight in my hand, knowing that this would taste blood before I was done.

         I turned and surveyed the scene around me. Smoke was rising into the air above me, trees were in all directions at the edge of the clearing, and the collapsed cave was right behind me. Why didn’t Keelans group listen to me, they would still be alive.

         I chose a direction at random and walked forward. Keelan was the hunter, I was just a girl who knew how to survive in the ghetto. I had no idea how to track people, how to feel the lay of the land, how to find whatever I need, whenever I need it.

© Copyright 2013 Spencer Halstead (specerth5 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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