Memory Lane

Clouded Memories

I woke up in a black corridor, fading and merging into what seemed to be a grassy meadow. I stood up slowly. I could tell that my hair needed to be cut, I searched my waist frantically, looking for the knife. I signed in relief, I found it. My grandpa's knife meant more than my life. It had a black, leather-wrapped hilt, a golden guard, and a polished obsidian blade. The knife was given to me by him before he died. I had green eyes, and short, unorganized, black hair. That's all I remembered. I had on a black sweatshirt and ripped jeans. I oriented myself as I walked toward the meadow. As soon as I reached the plains, cold crisp air washed over me. I stepped out into the grass. I now noticed I wasn't wearing any shoes, as the blades of grass tickled my feet. I paused for a moment, then continued.

There was nothing but grassy meadows filled with wheat. Even the darkness I emerged from had faded. Red completly filled my vision. I winced, startled by the sudden change of color, then the color reverted back to normal.
"Sorry!" I heard from behind me.
It was a lazer.

I regained my eyesight a bit and looked up. A floating sentinel robot was staring down at me. I turned to see who spoke. A young-looking boy with long-ish, white hair stared at me, with his right hand covering the corresponding eye.
"Sorry again." He started.
"My buddy Onyx here is a bit skittish when it comes to new people." He glanced over at his security drone.
"My name is Sylk, do you know what's going on?"
I wished I could answer that question, but I had no clue.
"No idea." I replied. I realized my voice was quiet and a bit raspy, but I didn't stay focused on that for too long.

Sylk was outfitted in a white jacket with black highlights. He had baggy white shorts as well.
"Something wrong with your eye?" I asked. He turned pale.
"No!" He yelped. "It's nothing!"
I opened my mouth to call him out, but a loud omnipotent voice interrupted me.

"Attention!" It called out. It sounded feminine. Sylk's robot Onyx gazed upwards.
"You have been selected and tested for a gauntlet held by the Eustopian government, you have been dropped in said gauntlet." I hated this. The voice went on.
"You all are skilled in one category or another, but you wouldn't remember that. That is due to the very arena you are standing in. It is formed out of all of the contenders' memories. You might remember some of the events that took place in your life, but not many. The last one living, wins. Good luck on your trip down Memory Lane!"

Well shit.