This is my first attempt at a Pendragon story. I love the series, I got book seven and read it the day it came out. Yes I have no life.
I don't own... you get the idea.
Have you ever found yourself running? Have you ever found yourself thinking, plotting to escape your fears, and your pain. That's a daily thing in my life. At age ten I ran. I finally cracked and said " the hell with this, I'm leaving." At first, I didn't think I'd escape. I knew deep down that the dados would catch me, put me in the line and send me to tarz. Little did I know, little did anyone know. I succeeded.
I guess it begins, with my father. Good honest hard working man. He works for blok. Hell everyone does. He's not very high in there though, just a factory worker barely making enough to feed himself, my mother and me. My mom works for blok, but not as a laborer. She still gets the same pay, close to nothing. My mother and my father are very alike and very different. My mother and my father are kind, honest, hard working, you know, human. The only difference is the loop.
My father has one, my mother doesn't. She is disgusted by the games those bastards LaBerge and Veego play. Everyone loves a good game. Except when the cost of losing is your life. But still, people play. It isn't by their own free will. No one would enter the games if asked, so they watch you, see if your talented enough, if so, start writing your will because once the gates close. They stay closed till you die. It's a cycle of death for profit all for blok. I hate blok, and I think I'm not the only one.
It began for me when my father was at the game place. It used to be an arcade for when games were for fun and not for food. I was watching him play. My father was skilled at the game he was playing, betting some but not the ultimate price. His life. Watching behind me, I see the unbelievable. I see a man, no a kid wearing a challenger shirt. You know, a certain color and five diagonal black lines. Your name is the color of your shirt and I'm looking at challenger red. My dads loop began to shine green, he won some money.
My mother begins to cheer for him, hugging him, crying. A little more food on the table, a little coin in the pocket. The challenger looks confused by this, like he had never seen it before. Then I notice something, he didn't have a loop. Then some idiot put it back on for him. He looked scared as it locked onto his arm. Again, like it was foreign and unusual for him. This challenger is fairly dark skinned, like he was baking in the sun for awhile. He was rather husky, not ripped or anything, but noticeable. His hair was brown, and kinda long.
Then I heard something that sounded to familiar. The sound of someone losing. I knew what was happening next. I didn't want to look, but I had to. Turning around I saw a man with a yellow loop. Yellow meant you lose. Yellow meant doom. Yellow meant death, slavery, or both on most occasions. He was crying, then I saw a door open, I hate dados. I hate anything not human really.
They begin to take the man away, before they see him. The challenger. He seems confused, scared even. He let them get close, before he took one down, then bolted. I had never seen anyone attack a dado. Or blok in any way shape or form. He had done the impossible, and quite well too. After a minute, it seems like he got away, because they keep chasing him.
A few days later I find myself walking down the street. I hate crowds. But hey, that's part of life in Rune. Gotta get used to it. Either walk or get in the traffic jam, and hey, at least walking getting somewhere. The video screens turn on, and everything stops. It's game time. Time for some to shine, and others to whine. Some to cry, and others to die. This game event today is fun. Tock. One challenger, three flags, and three flying metal balls. Gotta love it.
When the game starts after LaBerge's stupid rhyme, the light shines on our competitor. It was challenger red. Couldn't run forever. He seems nervous. Hell I would be. Tock is dangerous. Giant metal ball, that after a bit become spinning blades. Times that by three and you got a fun game filled with blood, gore, and missing body parts.
The buzzer goes off, alerting betting is over and second later, the game starts. Badly. Red gets hits after three steps. Game over already it looks like. He gets up, almost gets to flag, then get drilled in the back. Ouch. He's down but not out. Soon, he does something pretty smart. He takes something to his advantage, the chains of the tocks. He rides them, gets the flags, and wins. I look around me and see more yellow than green.
A lot of people are going to die. Or live in slavery. Or both. Usually both. I keep walking and get home where a surprise is in store for me. My father lost. Not just a few dollars, the ultimate bet. My father is one other thing as well. I think it was better to say this now. He was also a coward. He substituted me for him. Next stop, tarz. Next stop death.
I arrive at the place almost a week later. A train station to take me to hell on Quillan. My mother cried her eyes out when the dados took me on a bus with other losers. I glare at my father as I leave. Coward. Sending a child to go there. I was ten. Ten years old and yet he was going to kill me to save himself. I hope he loses again, just to see if he'll send my mother. I want to see how far his cowardness goes.
I wait in line to go to tarz. They're tagging us now. So if we try to run we can't. Tracking devices are fun. Other children are around me. One kid is about six, another younger. Adults who have accepted this are here. Looking around I see people getting tagged, shoved onto buses, and being shipped away. Then I look above me, and I can't believe what I see. Challenger red. He's not in his challenger shirt, but he's there. He's with someone I've seen before, with the trusties. Nevva Winter. I know her, she's the assistant.
That gave me hope. If he could escape the games, maybe I could escape this. Looking around once more, I see dado's at all places, except the tracks. That's my best shot. So I cross my fingers, give red another look, and bolt. Run faster than I ever thought I could. Not turning back. I don't get halfway without hearing the dado's behind me. But I keep running, and jump into the tunnel. I'm going to escape, or die trying.