Alright, behold the new story I should really not be writing, because I have essays to write and applications to fill out.

Hurray!

Basically the entire preface to this thing is right here, and other things will be explained along the way. This takes place in Scout's point of view. I own nothing but his name, I guess. Since he doesn't have one, I had to make one up.

Onward!

XxXxXxXx

I never quite understood why people would continue to steal, lie and kill when they knew what was in store for them. Every week or so, another criminal would be caught and imprisoned, possibly killed. There were only a few rare cases when they were admitted to the Games.

One way to get into the Games was to be very lucky. A Player in the Games would die, and they would immediately take their place. Or, they could commit such a heinous crime that one of the Players is released from the Games so they can take their place. Players that exit the Games are never the same. They're...different. I've seen some 'before and after' pictures and articles on some of the Players that have been released.

They're insane for some reason; suffering from severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and having mental breakdowns that continue until they die. They usually end up taking their own lives a short time later. I don't know why. The Games are entertaining. Why is it such a crime to be sentenced to participate in them? And if they hate the Games so much, why do they still participate?

If the creators of the Games—Redford and Blutarch Mann—were still alive, I would ask them. Or one of their successors. They have a lot of those. I'm sure they could tell me why the Players don't want to play the Games. I'd have to make a mental note to check in on that soon—

A loud bang brought me back from my thoughts. I jumped and stared up into the face of my instructor, who glared down at me.

"Miles, what do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing..." I mumbled.

"Exactly," she pointed to the keyboard in front of me. "I want these reports by tonight. Tonight! Do you understand? I need all of them by tonight!"

With that, she turned in a flourish of her outrageous yellow and orange dress and lumbered away. I sighed and ran a hand across my hair as I turned back to the computer monitor.

I hate my job. I really do. Out of all the jobs to be assigned, I have to work as a dental assistant? I don't even do the cool stuff I was promised! I just sit and update medical record after medical record...report after report...! It's mind numbingly boring!

Oh well. At least I have a job. Some of the people who are job-ready don't pass the exams. I should be thankful for what I've got. I've gotta support Ma somehow, right? It's insane after how the women have their firstborn, they're not allowed to work ever again…

I was actually extremely lucky for a 23 year-old with a forged birth certificate. It said I was at the employment age, 25, when really I was just a few years behind the legal working age.

...Why do we have to wait until we're 25 to get a job, anyway? Why not whenever we wanted? Who set these rules up, anyway? Why can't I work as something a little more interesting, like—

"MILES!"

I nearly flipped the keyboard at the booming voice behind me. I spun around, fully prepared to punch someone square across the head, to face my instructor again.

"You haven't done anything for five minutes! How did you pass the exams? Get to work!"

Right...that's enough daydreaming for today. I really need to lay off the caffeine...

XxXxXxXx

The Games were tonight!

After a week-long hiatus of no action, they were finally starting up again. Maybe they had to replace a Player, who knows.

As soon as I returned home from my lame job, I grabbed some money and darted out again. I wanted a good seat, after all. The arenas fill up quickly.

Maybe I would finally be front row and center! ...A kid can dream, can't he?

Just getting into the arena took about a half hour. By the time I got a seat, most of the place was filled up. I ended up on the left, but I still had a good view of the shadowy area below. Three giant jumbotrons lined the far wall. I would be able to see the best action. Everywhere along the walls were ads for Mann Co., which sponsored the Games. The posters depicted hats of every colour, size and shape imaginable. Some of these hats were sitting atop some of the more wealthy spectators' heads.

It wasn't long before the lights in the stands dimmed. The lighting on the arena grew brighter; the screens of the jumbotrons matching the landscape. Everyone in the place grew deathly silent.

"Mission begins in sixty seconds. Do not fail me." A pre-recorded female voice boomed.

The jumbotrons began a countdown. As they slowly ticked downward, people filled the arena, colour coded to represent their alignment. The REDs were defending, the BLUs were attacking. The mission was looking like a capture-the-flag.

"Mission begins in 50 seconds."

Each team had nine members. Each person had a specific role, and they were divided into three sections. There were attack, defense and support; three to each.

A lumbering mountain of a man exited the BLU base to get into position. Close behind him was a shorter, skinnier man in a lab coat. The Heavy and the Medic. On both teams they always attacked together; even though Heavies were primarily hardcore defense.

They took position on one side of the short bridge connecting the landmasses between RED and BLU, while a shorter, more stooped man with a hardhat took the other side. The Engineer on both teams was brilliant. They both could create sentry guns to protect their bases, and they were downright good all around. Defense was their main forte, but if it came down to it, they had a shotgun to use as a backup offense weapon.

Along with those three at the bridge, only one other man was visible from the arena stands. Well, sort of. His gun, at least. Up on the second floor of the BLU base, boards covered a broken window. Protruding out between two of the boards was the narrow tube of a sniper rifle.

"Mission begins in 30 seconds."

Man, I can't decide who I like more. The Soldier is pretty cool as well as these other guys. Not to mention the Spy. Or the Demoman. Everyone is so different and so essential to the team...it's a very unique balance.

"Mission begins in 20 seconds."

"Come on, come on, hurry up!" I muttered to myself. I wanted to see some action.

As the jumbotrons counted down, the audience gathered in the Arena began chanting the numbers out loud. The entire place was filled with energy that rivaled New Year's Eve as the countdown dawdled into the single-digits.

"FIVE…!" I shouted out.

"FOUR…!"

I found myself hoping the BLUs would win this round.

"THREE…!"

The jumbotron on the left focused on the Medic and Heavy, who both bore expressions of distinct fear and worry.

"TWO…!"

The sniper barrel that was just barely visible to the Arena was trembling slightly.

"ONE…!"

A loud whistle that reminded me of a train sounded, echoing around the Arena and drowning out the shouts and cheers of the crowd. Already, people were on their feet and screaming. The BLUs rushed across the bridge and entered the RED base. Surprisingly, not a single RED showed himself…

The cameras were following the Medic and Heavy as they hurried into the fort, the Medic constantly glancing back at the camera, as though knowing it was there. I found myself tense with anticipation…the RED Spy was known for quickly taking out the Medics as soon as possible. Who knows, the BLU medicine man could be the first to go.

Again.

"Where are they?" the Heavy was asking. His face was lined with fear. "Why are they not attacking us?"

"They're further in the base. Just keep moving!" the Medic insisted.

"DON'T GO!" A man in front of me was shouting at the screens. "IT'S A TRAP! IT'S A TRAP, YOU GREAT LUG!"

I couldn't help but agree and join in shouting. I knew they couldn't hear us, but it was still half the thrill of knowing what was to come.

The Heavy nodded to the Medic and continued on. They had reached the section of the fort that opened up into the sky. Bales of hay were stacked in three of the four corners, ladders leading up to the upper floors and toward the Intelligence.

This is where things began to get interesting.

From the balcony fell a swirl of crimson as the RED Scout threw himself at the Medic, throwing the MediGun's beam off the Heavy. The Scout drew an aluminum baseball bat from the bag strung across his back and delivered a hard blow to the Medic's temple.

The crowd in the Arena erupted in cheers and boos. I found myself cursing at the Scout as he struck the already downed Medic again, caving in part of his skull. The Heavy finally realized what was going on and began firing his own weapon at the Scout.

My jeers turned to excited shouts as bullet after bullet pierced the Scout's red shirt, his blood staining it even darker. The Heavy didn't stop shooting. His face was twisted in rage and anger as the metal slugs punched through the lightweight Scout, disfiguring and tearing apart his head and shoulders.

The heavy weapon wound down with a low hum as the Scout fell, motionless, next to the Medic.

Two deaths so far…this was going to be an intense battle. I could already feel it.

"Five minutes remain!" the announcer declared. "Get the briefcase!"

The Heavy turned and ran in the direction of the RED Intelligence, ditching the minigun as he went. I frowned. Sure, the extra weight was slowing him down, but it was a fricken' gun! It was just about the only protection he had, save for a puny shotgun hung over his shoulder.

I sighed. The dumbass wouldn't make it out alive.

The jumbotron on the right had switched. Now the BLU Demoman was making his way across the Teufort bridge. As I watched, wondering why he didn't bother to stickyjump his way into the fortress, the RED Sniper appeared at the doorway the Demoman intended to use.

The shouts and screams in the Arena were deafening as people jumped up and pointed feverously, wondering why the Demoman was walking directly into the trap. The RED Sniper grinned nastily and traded his rifle out for the SMG he had at his waist. Just as he was about to shoot, his head jerked backwards, tiny red droplets falling from his hat as it drifted to the ground. The Sniper fell, eyes crossed up at the pencil-sized hole in the middle of his forehead.

"YEAH!" I shouted. The BLU Sniper had successfully ridded RED of his counterpart. I could see him in the boarded up window, packing up to move to a different location.

"Four minutes remain!"

I turned my attention back to the left jumbotron. The Heavy had nearly made it to the Intelligence. Only a short, curved hallway stood between him and the prize. I assumed he was waiting for backup.

The Demoman had found the bodies of the BLU Medic and the RED Scout. He steered clear of them and continued on his way. I laughed. What a moron.

He managed to reach the Heavy, who sighed in relief. "You made it. Now, hurry…there's an Engineer just around the corner."

The Demoman nodded. "Right. Don't worry."

The Heavy turned and peered around the corner. "If we run at the same time, we should be able to—"

He never got to finish as the Demoman discarded the grenade launcher and instead pulled a knife from his sleeve, swiftly and expertly plunging it into the Heavy's back. The Heavy dropped to his knees as the BLU Demoman's form wavered and vanished to be replaced by the RED Spy.

I was on my feet now, clapping and cheering. Even though I wasn't cheering for the REDs, that was an excellent move. I could only wonder what happened to the real Demoman.

The Heavy had fallen into the hallway. The camera centered itself to focus on both him and the end of the hall. The RED Intelligence was visible, as was their Engineer and his Level 3 Sentry. The contraption caught sight of the dying BLU and unleashed a barrage of bullets that tore away the Heavy's life. The RED Spy stepped over him and lit a cigarette.

"Great work, partner." The Engineer grinned.

"One minute remains! Get that briefcase!"

"Come on!" I shouted. "Come on, BLU!"

The Spy only sighed and took deep breath of the smoke he was inhaling before cloaking, flicking the drug away. Invisible, I couldn't tell where he ran off to.

The Engineer stood at attention, wrench in hand.

"30 seconds remain!"

A flurry of movement started at the BLU base. It was too late for them, and they knew it. The remaining survivors rushed to the bridge and from there, into the RED base.

They were met by RED's Pyro, who airblasted the BLU Soldier's rockets back at them.

"10 seconds remain!"

It was too late. A vast majority of the team had been too badly wounded. This was going to be bad...

The overwhelming boos and cheers filled the Arena once again as the Announcer declared a game over. The RED Pyro put an end to any of the BLUs that happened to still be alive.

"That sucked." I grumbled, sitting back down in my seat. It would be a while before I managed to get out of here.

XxXxXxXx

It was pitch-black by the time I exited the Arena stands. The flickering streetlamps lit the way as I walked home, still disappointed by the Games. That wasn't a match, it was a slaughter! I want my money back!

A clatter down an alleyway made me stop momentarily. I silently cursed myself for drinking too many sodas and being so jittery and continued on.

The clatter sounded again down the next alley I passed. This time I glared into the darkness and balled my hands into fists.

"Go away." I said.

A trash can was knocked over. I managed to see some light-coloured pieces of paper flutter to the ground. I could hear something else…someone else…

"Who's there?"

A siren started a few streets over. It grew closer until the flashing lights illuminated the darkened alleyway.

"FREEZE!" a voice magnified by a megaphone shouted.

A man was standing amidst the scattered trash that had been knocked over, dressed in a long overcoat. He looked to be as tall as me, if not a bit taller. I never clearly saw his face as he turned and ran back the way he had come. The police were after this guy…but what for?

I followed.

If there was one thing I was good at, it was running. Being the youngest of eight brothers, I had taught myself to run from their bullying and get to safety as fast as I could. I was confident in my speed. I would catch this criminal.

The man turned the corner and continued running in-between the buildings, tossing trash cans and dumpsters behind him to slow my progress after him. I simply jumped, the obstacles only making this chase more intense. He turned down the first alley I heard the clattering sounds in, overturning a large dumpster into my path. This guy was strong.

I made to jump over it, but my right foot got lodged on the lid. I fell, sliding over the top of it and dragging the lid off. Something heavy and cold fell on top of me, the lid crashing to the ground to the left.

"Ow! Freaking…!" I started, trying to roll to the side to dislodge the trash from my back. In the dim light, I made out part of the shape of the thing on top of me.

A hand.

There was a hand sticking out in front of me, the fingers frozen in a pained position.

I screamed, backpedaling into the building and dislodging the dead body from my back. I never knew death could be so cold and…and rigid…

A light shone into the alleyway, illuminating the face of the dead.

It was a woman. That was all I registered at first. A rather plump woman wearing an outrageous orange and yellow dress.

Wait.

This…

This was…

My supervisor…! The lady I worked for!

But why had she been killed?!

"FREEZE!" the cop with the megaphone shouted again. "OR WE WON'T HESITATE TO SHOOT!"

I glanced wildly around as I shakily stood, searching for the man in the trench coat. He was nowhere in sight…maybe they caught sight of him again and were warning—

A bullet struck the bricks just to the right of my head. My knees gave out at the sudden fright and I slumped back to the ground. Me? Why were they shooting at me?! I didn't kill this woman!

Two cops were heading in my direction now, pistols directed at me. I was stunned. I didn't kill this woman! There was no way I could! The guy in the trench coat…he did it!

"You're coming with us." One of them said, grabbing ahold of my arm and pulling me roughly to my feet. Even though my legs were like rubber, I somehow managed to follow the two men back to the car.

XxXxXxXx

The prison was set into the far corner of the city, next to the West Wall. Looking out the window, I could see the solid concrete structure jutting up into the sky, obscuring anything and everything beyond its walls.

My wrists were handcuffed to the chair I was sitting in, facing a rather thin-faced man with a goatee. He said he was an 'interrogator' and wanted to know 'why I killed that woman'.

"I didn't kill her." I insisted for the tenth time. "You gotta believe me. There was dis man, see? An' he was makin' noise in the alley. I followed him."

"Right." The man said flatly. "She was your employer, was she not? Did you harbor any sort of…grudge…against her?"

"What? No! She paid me good! Why would I wanna kill her?"

"Did she favour another employee over you?"

"No!"

"What about your friends? Your family? Did they have any sort of connection to her? Were you doing them a favour by wiping her off the face of the earth?"

"No! I'm tellin' ya, no!"

"You said there was another man?" the interrogator sighed.

"Yeah. Real skinny guy." I tried to gesture, but the handcuffs restricted my movement. "Kinda shady. Tall. I didn't see his face real good."

"Anything else?"

"He was strong. Kept knocking things in my way so he could escape."

"Did you actually see this man kill the woman?"

"No."

"Anything else you would like to add? About the woman?"

"…No."

We were both silent for a few seconds. The man sighed and folded his hands before staring long and hard at me. I squirmed in my seat, slightly uncomfortable by the way he was boring holes into my soul.

"My sources say you are not the legal employment age."

My stomach turned twice in my gut. How the hell did he know about that?! Ma and I worked so hard to cover that all up!

My shock must have been written clearly on my face. The interrogator continued, "You are at least two years under the required age. This is a serious criminal act of forging and creation of false data. Even if you are not tried for the murder of your employer, you will be tried for your forged birth certificate."

"What? No, man! You don't understand!" I protested.

"I understand you broke a very clear law one way or another." The man stood.

"Can I speak to my Ma?"

"We will resume this conversation in the morning. Until then, you will be transported to the detention center to be held overnight."

"Can I speak to my Ma?" I repeated.

The man didn't respond and instead walked out of the room, leaving me still trapped in the chair and facing the empty table. The room suddenly felt as cold as the snow-coloured walls. Cold and empty.

XxXxXxXx

DETENTION CENTER

"Tell me again about the man…the one that killed your supervisor."

"For th' last time, he was wearin' a trench coat!" I sighed and pinched at the bridge of my nose. "That was all I really saw!"

The policewoman sitting opposite me wrote something down on the clipboard she was holding. She nodded, as though I had actually said something interesting, and asked instead, "What was your alibi for last night?"

"My what?" I blinked.

"Your alibi." She frowned. "What were you doing when you stumbled upon this dead woman?"

"I was walkin' home from the Games." I said. "I told th' guy yesterday. Don't ya ever listen to each other around here?"

"Alright, then…tell me about that forged birth certificate." The policewoman glared and set the clipboard down. "Who set it up?"

"I dunno." I shrugged. "They're probably long gone by now. Ma said she didn't want me knowin' who did it. Why do we need to be twenty five to get a job, anyway?"

I suppose my abruptness took her by surprise. Her 'in charge' attitude suddenly dropped away and she picked up the clipboard again, nervously fiddling with the piece of paper attached. Her voice shuddered as she spoke. "I…Well…It's the way it's always been."

I gave her a skeptical look.

She stood and exited the room, leaving me to my thoughts. I turned to stare out the barred window. After all, I had an excellent view of the concrete wall. Better enjoy it while I could.

A knock so hard it sounded like a barrage of gunshots sounded at the door. I jumped and stuttered out, "Uh…yeah?"

The door was thrown open with a bang, the momentum throwing it back into a semi closed position. A dent remained in the wall where the doorknob had struck. A tall man wearing nothing but a pair of hiking shorts, shoes, and a hat strode into the room after pushing the doorknob back into the wall. This time, it stuck.

"So you're Miles?" he had a deep, booming voice and a surprisingly sincere smile that reached past his bushy moustache. He held out a hand. "I'm Hale. Saxton Hale! Provider and biggest fan of the Games!"

He must have been twice my height and more than ten times my weight. I hesitated before reaching out to accept his handshake—his hand alone was large enough to wrap around my entire head and rip it from my shoulders.

"Hi…" I said lamely as his fingers wrapped around my hand. I heard something crunch and my eye twitched. Unfortunately, Hale didn't seem to realize he was crushing my tiny hand as he vigorously shook my arm from my socket.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, my boy! I must say, I've heard a lot about you! Murdering that poor woman…that takes some guts, kid!"

"I…I didn't kill her…!" I grit my teeth and pulled away from his handshake.

Unfortunately, he didn't seem to hear me. Or care. Maybe both. Instead, he put both hands on his hips and said quite firmly, "You know what this means, right? With the killing and the forged certificate?"

"No…?"

"You have a choice, my boy!" The smile was back on his face and he pulled a crinkled piece of paper from his pocket. "I'll let you read it yourself."

He tossed the paper to me. I unfolded it.

It was a crudely written letter, obviously by Hale himself. It simply said:

CHOOSE ONE:

THE GAMES

OR

LIFE IN PRISON

"Whaa…?" I blinked.

"Are you as daft as the others?" Hale cracked his knuckles. "You have a choice for your crimes. You get to decide your destiny! And after all, we need some new BLU recruits after that last slaughter—I mean, Game!"

I hesitated. "Do I have to decide right now?"

"Of course!"

"Can I talk to my Ma first?"

"No can do!"

I stared back at the paper I was holding. On one hand, I could be a celebrity. I could actually be in the Games! I could be starring in the very thing I loved since I was a kid. But that always brought the risk of losing. I was competitive. I always wanted to win.

And on the other hand, I could rot in prison until the end of time.

It was a no-brainer.

"Have you decided?" Hale asked.

"Yeah." I nodded.

"Yes…?"

"I choose the Games."

His grin grew wider. "Wise choice."

XxXxXxXx

The whole team will be introduced soon! This is just the set-up phase of the story leading up to other stuff.

Remember to review!

Hasta la Vista, Readers!

Lordoftheghostking28