~~~~~~~~~~~~~credit to @yosh234 for the cover~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Kameyo Takahashi (Female Student 05), Fumio Katō (Male Student 09), Andrew Dykman (Male Student 03); Area D6 is now officially a forbidden area. Make your way to a non-forbidden area within twenty minutes unless you want to be blown to bits. That's all for now."
Once his voice stopped echoing in Kameyo's ears, she collected herself and her belongings and crawled out of the cabinet she had been hiding in for the past three days. This was how Kameyo had been surviving the past week; hiding, relocating, hiding again.
She never grew hungry, the stores she hid in had remnants of stale bread and fruit from when the old Japanese island was inhabited. God knows how long ago that was.
Kameyo had lost count of the days she had been trapped in this death cage for ages ago. Ages ago- how long the week had seemed. Death lurked everywhere. It hid in the bushes, it swirled in the sky, it seeped into the students' pores-taking all but three with it.
Forty-two had entered this battle, many of them Kameyo's friends. If she weren't here, Kameyo would be playing with her friends; her friends that were killed right before her. If she weren't here, she would be eating dinner with her parents. How she missed her parents....how she wished she had apologized....
Kameyo squeezed her precious stuffed Pikachu tighter as she continued to trudge her way to a non-forbidden area.
Andrew looked at his map. The only non-forbidden area left was E5. The blood pulsed harder in his head. Oh, how anxious he was! The suspense was killing him. Three students left out of forty-two, and he was one of them! He was proud to admit that he had helped out with the disposal of many of his classmates, not that he was very fond of any of them anyway.
Kameyo and Fumio...he didn't even remember what they looked like. He shrugged it off. If he couldn't remember something as simple as that about his competition, they mustn't be a threat. Most of the kids who came on this trip were weak anyways. The majority of them were little Japanese kids-not at all threatening to Andrew; who was one hundred thirty pounds of muscle. He could take these guys easily. He didn't even have to use any weapons thus far, only his overly large hands, still tainted red from whoever that one kid was....he couldn't remember her name either.
Andrew would win this game, there was no doubt in his mind. And when he gets out he'll use his glory to finally win over Rachel...had she been in this arena? Andrew couldn't remember.
Chance of survival: 33%. Chance of beating Kameyo in a fight: 67%. Chance of beating Andrew in a fight: 29%. Fumio continued to come up with statistics to figure out his next move.
He knew his chances of survival were slim, especially with his lack in strength. Luckily he had his brain. Outsmarting Andrew would be easy; he wasn't that bright. He was the stereotypical white jock: high muscle mass, low brain capacity. Kameyo on the other hand, may be more difficult. Although she was the youngest student in the battle, she was an expert at being unnoticed. Even Fumio, who knew mostly everything about everybody, was sometimes unaware of her presence.
But Fumio had one thing that kept his confidence high: a gun. It took a knife to the arm to get it, but he had obtained it nontheless. He ran his fingers over the barrel. Should he shoot them on sight? Or maybe make a deal with one of them? He didn't want to kill anybody. But his brain told him that he must, for it was the name of the game.
Fumio had been the class representative before the trip here. He remembered the last student council meeting like it was yesterday. He had stood up and read the paper out loud, "Motion to approve Class 3's trip to a Japanese island, sponsored by Tom Spencer." Once a motion was received, he continued. "All in favor?" The class responded with a half-hearted, "I." He doubted they were even listening. "All opposed?" The class remained silent. He had slammed the plastic court hammer on the table and smiled. "Meeting adjourned."
Of course Tom Spencer was not the friendly tour guide like man the class expected.
Of course this was not the luxurious trip to Japan the class had expected.
Fumio looked at his map. He was almost in the final area: E5. He tightened his grip on the gun and cautiously made his way to what could only be the final battle.
The whole area was flat. It was an open battlefield. Fumio had gotten there quickly, he knew his twenty minutes wasn't up yet. So he decided to stay hidden in the tree line until someone else showed up.
It wasn't long until Kameyo appeared. This area was her worst nightmare; nowhere to hide. She had no choice but to confront her competition. She didn't see anyone yet so she ducked down behind a tree, clinging onto Pikachu for dear life.
Something bright caught Fumio's eye. He pushed his glasses farther up on the bridge of his nose to focus. Something yellow and jagged stood out against the lush green foliage. Nothing came to Fumio's mind until he saw a blue piece of cloth flow out from behind a tree. A hand reached out to pull it back: Kameyo's skirt.
Fumio remembered she had brought along some stuffed animal. He was surprised it wasn't lost by now. He looked harder over to where Kameyo was hiding. He could see her clearly now; her dark hair matted up in birdnests, her school girl uniform ripped up and bloodied much like his own. She had her head tucked between her knees, shivering. He felt sorry for her. He wanted to help her. Maybe they could team up to fight Andrew?
He whispered loudly across the area. "Kameyo! Kameyo over here! It's me, Fum-" Kameyo looked up. But not at Fumio. Andrew burst through the trees with a mighty war cry. He landed on one knee in the middle of the sandy gound.
Andrew stood up and bared his teeth, all of which were visible...literally. The side of his mouth was ripped open, showing off his bloody teeth and gums. His flapping lips were pulled up into a long wicked smile.
"COME ON OUT YOU PUSSIES!" he screamed, blood and saliva flying. His fists were clenched and his eyes darted around at an alarming speed. He was mad.
Fumio saw Kameyo shrink lower behind the tree. His neck grew hot. His collar was heating up. He didn't have much time. Kameyo tugged at her collar in discomfort. She could not hide forever.
Fumio stepped out into the open, gun held shakily in front of him. Andrew's smile grew impossibly bigger.
Fumio slowly aimed the gun back and forth between Andrew and Kameyo and gulped. This was it. "I-I don't want to hurt either of you," he managed to say through his tense jaw. Andrew advanced towards him. His knees started to wobble as his arms moved the gun at Andrew.
"S-stay back!" Fumio exclaimed, slowly backing away from Andrew, his finger desperately trying to find the trigger.
Andrew stood over him like an elephant to an ant. Fumio backed into a tree, shaky hands barely keeping the gun aimed straight. He pressed the trigger.
There was an unsatisfying click.
Pure horror covered Fumio's face. He dropped the gun. And with a quick motion of the wrists Andrew took him out with a twist and an ear-splitting crack.
Fumio dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes...with a head that was twisted in the wrong direction.
Kameyo squealed. Her neck was on fire. She knew she barely had a few minutes until her collar would explode unless she stepped out from behind the tree. This was it: the final showdown.
She made sure her pack was secure on her waist and smoothed out her skirt. She took a good, long look at Pikachu and hugged him. He was covered in dried blood and was ripped at a few places, but she loved him no less. They had both been through so much. Then Kameyo stood up, Pika still in her arms, and stepped out of her hiding place.
Andrew looked satisfied. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" He sauntered over to her casually. Kameyo didn't move, but shrunk as he approached. He chuckled as he stood over her. "Aw, is little Pika-girl afraid?"
Kameyo reached one hand down to her pack, but Andrew was too fast. He snatched Pikachu from her hands and shredded him to pieces in an instant. Kameyo yelped out and held back tears as the stuffing flew around her. Andrew laughed maniacally. He took a few steps back as he did.
Kameyo continued to look straight down, her mess of hair obscuring her face, now hard and angled. She unfastened the pack from her waist and began shuffling through its contents.
She pulled out a gun, but immediately tossed it behind her. Seriously, a gun? That'd be over with way too quickly. She threw away a slingshot, some darts, and a small knife. They didn't suit her at the moment. At this point Andrew had stopped laughing.
She revealed a pair of metal, pointy knuckles and slipped them on. She giggled to herself as she tapped the sharp tips. You don't have to be strong to rip someone's eyes out.
Kameyo slipped a few knives in the hem of her skirt for later then threw her pack back into the tree line. Andrew's mouth dangled half open, but all his teeth were still visible.
Where in the world did she get all of those weapons? And she just threw half of them away! Andrew snapped himself out of it. She was half his size! Even with brass knuckles she couldn't beat him. He put his game face back on and growled at her.
Andrew's growl did nothing. In an instant, Kameyo leaped from her place and screamed, lunging at her opponent. She planted her feet on his chest and knocked him to the ground. Then she dug her jagged metal knuckles into the ripped side of his face, completely tearing his right cheek off.
She stradled him so that his hands were pinned to the floor by her shoes. Kameyo didn't ponder on what she was going to do to him. She knew the moment her Pikachu was shredded into pieces.
Kameyo pressed both knuckles into the top of his bare chest. Then she gradually dragged them down to his pelvis. He yelled out in pain. She wondered if she had cut open any of his internal organs.
Well there's one way to find out.
Kameyo clawed at his chest at an incredible speed. Andrew shouted at an incredible volume. Blood and flesh flew in every direction, landing on the hot sand and Kameyo's burning face.
If some of his organs weren't cut up before, they were now. He cried and moaned in agony. "PLEASE! JUST KILL ME!" he cried, blood spewing out of his mouth.
Kameyo didn't seem to hear him, for she jammed the knuckles down into Andrew's shoulders, and slowly rotated them. She could hear the blood gargling in his throat as he screamed. It splattered onto both their faces.
It was time to end it: Kameyo began pounding the lights out of Andrew like a jackhammer. His body flinched rapidly as the sand around them faded dark red. His head jerked about in every direction all at once.
This went on for five minutes.
Then all that could be heard was Kameyo's breathing for the next five.
She looked at the mass of flesh before her. It was hard to believe that it used to be an attractive human being. His organs spilled out and chunks of flesh were scattered around his body, which was coated in a thick layer of blood.
Kameyo sat there on top of her dead opponent and admired her work. She had done it, she was going to get off this bloody island. She realized it might take a bit before Tom Spencer came and congratulated her, so she decided to have a little more fun while she could.
Andrew was already dead anyway, why not?
She took a knife from her skirt and twirled it in her fingers. Then, simply put, she scooped out his eyeballs. They came out with a light popping sound.
She poked them with the knife until blood and other fluids started to ooze out of them. Then she stashed them in the hem of her skirt. She may want to play with them later. She stared into the holes where Andrew's eyes had once sat in. They were more captivating than his previous eyes. She got lost in them like they were two endless tunnels of death.
Kameyo's eyes finally left the body when she heard the guards and Tom Spencer approaching. She smiled wickedly. Then began to cackle like a witch.
Tom smiled a toothy grin. He motioned to the guards around him to escort Kameyo off the island. They walked over to her slowly. Her forearms were soaked red along with her clothes. Her hair was a mess of knots and flesh. Her eyes were wild. She reeked of death.
Grabbing her by the arms, the guards dragged her away, still laughing and screaming. Her feet left a trail of blood in the sand. A piece of flesh could be seen between her front teeth.
The final shot was of Andrew's dismantled thing of a body, with a smiling Tom Spencer looking down upon it.
The young Isabella could not believe what she was watching on the television screen. What was that sick game? Silent cold tears streamed down her face. Then she ran from the televison and dove into her bed in a full on sob. She hoped she would never have to live through something like that again.