My hands grip into the wet earth, scrambling to make sense in the dark. My head is still spinning and it's impossible to focus even on my body. After a few minutes, when my eyes begin to focus I feel relief, until the headache splits through me like a jack hammer to my skull. I am laying on my back, looking up at a dense canopy of leaves and a sky full of more stars than I've ever seen peeking through. It would be beautiful if I wasn't so damn terrified. When I lift my hand to my right temple, it is tender and swollen to the touch. Looking down at my body, at the sight of my clothes, now smeared in thick mud, my last memories come flooding back.

I had been bar-tending in the seedy backwoods bar of my hometown. It was a usual night, nothing out of the ordinary. Though, ordinary usually meant a room full of old drunks and spurning unwanted advances with just enough finesse to still get a good tip. Which for me means scowling instead of slamming his head on the counter. I learned quickly, if their nose is bleeding, I go home hungry. It's not just me I have to worry about either, I have Prim to take care of. So I fight the urge to knock them out, but I don't have to smile. It's my own little rebellion. After closing for the night I went out to my old pick up, I opened the driver's side door and then my head was slammed into the door-jam and everything went dark.

My clothes are the same one's I'd been wearing to work, a black tank and hunter green cargo pants. My mouth is so dry it feels like I swallowed cotton balls so I suspect that I'd been drugged. On my left wrist is a plastic band with a blinking red light. I try to pull it off. When that doesn't work, I try ripping it with my teeth but all I do is aggravate the flesh of my wrist. "AAGGHH!" Combining the frustration of not being able to remove a bracelet and the fear of not knowing where I am collide into me releasing a sound I've never made before. I calm myself down, taking deep breaths. It's time to think.

I'm not locked up and I haven't been raped. I think I'm alone though it's hard to tell since I can't see much more than a few yards ahead of me. My only injury appears to be the bruise on my head and the after effects of whatever drug was pumped into me. My wrists have a sticky residue on them like I'd been duct taped at one time. These woods aren't mine, they are thicker and damper. I lean forward, standing up slowly so I don't get a head rush. I stand with my back leaning against a tree, listening intently to the sounds of the forest. Each rustle of leaves sets me on edge. I almost jump out of my skin when I hear the loud crackle of a radio coming to life a few feet away hidden in a bush.

The voice of an extremely peppy woman bombards my senses. "Welcome, Welcome! You have been selected as a tribute in our illustrious annual hunt! What an honor. Tonight the patriarchs of society will prove their prowess and you are the trophy. Now, don't lose heart because if you manage to stay alive for 48 hours, these strapping lads will have to pay you more money than you've ever dreamed of. The only rule is you must stay inside of the predetermined area, it is marked with red paint. Attempt to go outside of the perimeter and you will be met with a nasty shock that will quite possibly be your death. Happy hunting, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

I don't want to believe it. This can't really be happening. I don't have time to process it though because the annoying voice comes back this time a little more menacing. "A word of advice, my dear, you may want to start running." So I grab the radio and run.