©Hour 11: 32 Remaining- 11:00 pm

Girl #12, Sophie, was stunned. Here, behind a painting of a duck, she had found something that could, no, would show her the way out of the Battle Royale.

It took her at least ten minutes for her to decide whether or not to read the government document she'd found. It felt so ominously heavy in her hand…like that Nazi map her history teacher had shown her.

Finally, she worked up the courage to continue reading past the title.

She read:

GOVERNMENT ORDER

By order of the Government of the Commonwealth of Australia, you are hereby ordered to leave your places of residence and remove yourself from the island within the next twenty-four hours.

The island has been re-zoned as Federal Property, and will be used for all future BR Programs. (For information on BR, see )

However, before you leave, you must complete the following tasks:

Insure all food has been removed from your dwelling

Insure that the water has been cut off from your home

Remove anything that could be considered a viable weapon (i.e, knives, letter-openers, baseball bats etc.).

Insure that any and all communication devices are taken with you when you leave or destroyed outright

Refusal to comply with these tasks will be considered treason, and you will be prosecuted accordingly.

We thank-you for your co-operation

Signed

Helena Hargrave

Head of Australian BR Survival Program

"God…" Sophie whispered, "Horrible…"

She put the 'Government Order' back in the vault and looked at the rest of the pages.

"So many…there's just so many…" One of them would show her the way.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!" Girl #20, Veronica screamed, slamming her sniper rifle's butt onto the rickety, wooden desk. The table splintered and collapsed on itself.

Veronica was furious. How many people had crossed her path, and how many had she let get by? Melanie and Tess, they should've been easy pickings, but they got away! And Stephanie, there's a simple kill if there ever was one. But somehow, she too had escaped! The only one she could take properly was Ben, and that's barely saying anything!

She picked up her rifle and swung it around her head and threw it into the far wall, where a framed photograph hung. It shattered and fell to the floor.

Veronica kicked out at a chair, knocking it over, and grabbed the bed by its bottom. Heaving, she flipped it over and ripped off the headboard, screaming all the while.

Finally, she was too tired to destroy the place anymore, and flopped down onto the ruined bed's mattress.

"HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KILL PEOPLE IF I CAN'T FIND THEM?!" She hissed at the roof.

He sat across from her, silent, and crying. The boy Girl #6, Alana, suspected may have taken out her boyfriend, Boy #15, Darren's, beautiful eye.

She had no proof, but her intuition was powerful, and was definitely telling her something was wrong about Boy #14, Calin. The way he talked, the way he acted…the way he glared at her prone boyfriend…something wasn't right.

"Okay…so where are we?" Girl #17, June asked.

"What do you mean?" Boy #20, Angel asked.

"I mean…look around…" She said, "It's pitch black, raining, we can't see where the hell we are, and it feels like we've been wandering in circles for an hour."

Looking around, Angel said, "You've got a point."

They were indeed in unknown terrain. It was so dark, someone could walk right past their noses and they wouldn't even notice.

"Should we even bother looking at night? Everyone'll be hunkered down…waiting for light…" June said, stopping Angel with an arm across his chest.

Angel sighed, "You're right…" He looked back in what he assumed was the direction they'd come from and gasped, "Hey…where the hell is Sarah?"

June whirled around and flicked on her flashlight, "SARAH!" She screamed.

Angel swore and clapped a hand to her mouth and hissed, "JESUS CHRIST JUNE! You wanna just advertise our position do you?!"

June slapped his hand away and spat back, "Well we ARE looking for people! Why not! Go back, get Jessica's megaphone and call out for help! Someone will come!"

"Would you just listen to what you're saying?!" Angel said, "People die by drawing attention to themselves…and we do not want to fucking die!"

"Hey guys, what's all the hubbub about?" Girl #14, Sarah, asked, popping out from a bush.

June screamed and threw herself into Angel's embrace, shrieking, "HOLY SHIT!"

In that simple gesture, the couple's fight had ended.

"Okay babe, I know you're tired…so am I…let's just rest here…maybe catch a few zees." Angel said, setting his and June's pack down on the ground.

Sarah agreed enthusiastically, and flopped down onto a nice, comfy log, nestled under the protective branches of a pine tree.

June shrugged.

"Well…we're just as likely to be found as we are to find…really…" She sighed, and sat down next to Angel, slipping her body under his arm and resting her head in her lap.

"I just hope Jess is still doing okay…"

Girl #15, Jessica, was still not faring well at all. The lightning still streaked overhead, and the thunder still thundered. The only small respite was that the rain was partially blocked by the canopy of trees above her, affording her some protection.

But it was nowhere near enough. She was now cold, damp and tired. Her fire had long since extinguished itself, and she was left with nothing to light the area but a torch.

Most people would've quickly come to the conclusion it would've been better to leave with the other three. Even if they had no shelter, at least she wouldn't be alone.

But not Jessica Cunningham.

She was still fuming, hissing with every breath, muttering curses onto the heads of June and Angel.

She just couldn't deal with it. She was incensed beyond comprehension…he had been hers…she'd TOLD June that…not even a week before…

Class was in session, but Jessica, June and Sarah had slipped off to the bathroom to talk and get away from the dull drone of dates and facts that were being muttered to them.

"Dear God…I used to like history! But this guy just…ARGH!" June stuttered, holding her head in incandescent frustration.

"I know what you mean…it's like…" Jessica paused, thinking for the words to describe her feeling, "Like he's a robot or something…just repeating everything again and again."

Sarah piped up, "Oh yeah, and did you see that he hasn't stopped reading out passages from the text-book for a whole HOUR!"

The girls giggled, and continued to talk, comparing their teachers, deciding which were the worst and the best.

Soon however, Jessica had noticed the time. If they didn't get back to class soon, the room would be locked with their stuff inside.

The trio left, slowly meandering up through the quadrangle towards Room 303, where their history class was just finishing up.

Suddenly, something bumped into Jessica's side, knocking the breath from her. She turned to lash out at whoever it was that had run into her.

But the words caught in her throat as she saw who it was…or at least…the back of who it was. Wandering away from her was the brilliantly-shaped, absolutely perfect body of Angel Summers…the boy who had to be the love of her life.

Whirling back to her friends she whispered excitedly, "Look…THERE HE IS!"

"WHO?" Sarah said loudly, looking around for who Jess meant.

"Him…" She muttered, dreamily, "…Angel…" She sighed, and closed her eyes as she said his name, just to soak in the beauty of it.

The two other girls looked at each other for a moment, before bursting out into laughter. Jessica glared at them with hurt eyes.

Sarah smiled sympathetically, "Aw, it's okay…I'm sure you'll get him someday."

"Yeah!" June said, putting an arm around Jess' shoulder, "We'll make sure nobody steals him from you!"

Jessica spat at the dirt beneath her, and stared into the glowing light of her torch.

"Yeah…nobody steals from me and gets away with it!"

As the rain poured around him and the lightning crackled over-head, Sam smiled and laughed. He loved the rain, and everything about it. His favourite movie-moments, his fondest memories, always occurred in the rain. The T-Rex chomping on a car in Jurassic Park, the jig he, Alana and his friend Callum had done during a storm at school. Rain always made him happy.

And at a time like this, two kills under his belt and many more sure to follow, Sam couldn't help but singing.

He just put words together, not rhyming, with no particular tune or rhythm. But the words he put together…to someone listening it would've had at once a strange beauty, and a sickening premise.

Sam, although completely wrapped up in his insanity, never failed to pay attention for a potential kill, but nothing had shown itself for a while.

Only once in his hours of roaming had he ever had the slightest thought that what he was doing was wrong. He'd thought back to his encounter with Anthony. In over eleven hours of participating in Battle Royale, it was only that fraction of a moment that he felt the slightest remorse at what he'd done. Even through the dense cloud of his evolving insanity, he could still see that moment clearly. It was in fact that moment that had caused his madness. To protect himself from the looming and unforgiving guilt he'd torn out the part of his mental state that both let him feel and kept him sane. With that gone, all that was left was the body of Sam and the mind of nothing.

"How many times do you want me to tell the same story?" Girl #14, Maddy moaned, struggling against the bonds that held her to the chair.

Boy #12, Gavin ignored her completely, and continued pacing around her. His mind was racing from truck-loads of new information.

"So," He started, "Just…tell me once more about Sam…"

Maddy sighed and tried one last futile shake, but gave in, "I was just…I was angry. It seemed like Jess and Sarah had only just left when he showed up." Maddy shivered as she thought back to the sickening grin that had been set into Sam's face, "And…" Words escaped her. She couldn't stop thinking about that smile, those demented eyes…the bloodied shirt.

"Go on!" Gavin said, frustrated.

"I CAN'T!" Maddy shrieked suddenly, a great deal of saliva spraying from her mouth.

Gavin was surprised, and stopped trying to pressure her. He'd never seen her so angry…

Damn, Sam fucked her up big time.

Gavin grimaced and sat down on the cot, where his two guns lay.

Maddy was crying, sobbing even. She stared at Gavin with a vacant expression of despair.

Barely able to get the words out she moaned, "Other than the fact he tried to kill me, what more do you need to know?"

Gavin nodded.

Captor and captive fell silent, staring at the dusty floorboards of the lighthouse. The only sounds were the patter of rain, and the whirring noise that accompanied the spinning light.

"OW!" Girl #4, Melanie Stuart hissed, pulling her hand close to her chest. She'd scraped it along something and cut it open. She put it up to her mouth and sucked on the small wound, wishing she wasn't alone.

God, I'm never going to get out of this…at least not alive…

She stopped, her torch falling to the ground. All the emotions she'd held inside were breaking free, and she slumped to the dirt, tears staining her face.

Alone and in the dark, Melanie cried.

Unbeknownst to Melanie, just a few hundred metres to her right, at the base of a cliff, Girl #5, Tess, the girl she'd been looking for was sleeping peacefully.

In the last hour she'd awoken once, when lightning had struck quite close, but she'd ignored it and quickly slipped back into an undisturbed sleep.

Again, the thought that someone would find and kill her never occurred.

Girl #3, Stephanie, had always been happy at school. In any class, no matter what it was, she could find someway to make it fun. In any situation she could find the humour. But there was no fun to be had, no humour in a Battle Royale.

She'd known about BR before she was taken. Not details though, the whole concept of kids killing kids for the sake of the country was sickening to her. So she ignored it, wrote it off as an urban legend, something that could never happen to anyone, let alone her.

And yet, here she was. Hundreds of kilometres away from her family, with no friends and less than three days to live.

"WHO'S THERE!?" Girl #2, Rebecca screeched, twirling around and shining her torch in as many directions as possible.

Truly, killing Meghan had increased her desire to find Anthony ten-fold. She'd wanted him before, wanted to see his gorgeous face, be held by his comforting arms and feel his soft lips on hers, but now…now she needed that…to make herself feel safe, to make the 'incident' disappear, or to make it OK…she needed it all…and soon. Not being with him was killing her.

P22 in his hand and grenades in his pocket, Boy #18, Dan, should have felt entirely at ease in such a situation. He had a gun, and bombs, what could beat that?

But even with his arsenal, Dan was confident of his defeat. No matter how many he killed (or, as it seemed so far, didn't kill) by the end he'd be dead and someone else would be the champion.

Sighing he whispered, "The nerd never wins…"

Girl #19, Emma, on the other hand was confident of one thing, her own abilities. She knew she could handle anything thrown her way. Seeing Meghan's corpse had proven that…or so she thought.

Some time after the discovery, Emma's thoughts had changed dramatically.

They started:

I'm going to find that bitch Bec and I'm going to tear her eyes out of her head for what she did to Meghan…just because we're in this fucking Battle Royale doesn't mean you can just KILL someone!

But soon, these thoughts were being de-railed by sudden visual flashes of what she'd seen. Georgina's jaw being demolished by a teacher she'd thought was cool. Rachael and Chloe's terrified faces. Meghan's battered, unrecognisable face.

Oh dear fucking sweet Jesus…it's real…it's all for real!

Shaken to the core, Emma stumbled over some unseen sticks and fell to her knees.

"It's all real…" She whispered. All thoughts of a group of kids surviving the Battle Royale escaped her, and all that was left was the knowledge that she'd end up in the ground unless she, like Bec (the Bec in her mind anyway) killed.

A coherent thought hadn't run through Boy #21, Francis' unconscious mind in over an hour. It had just been sitting there, doing nothing but the very minimum to keep the boy alive. If he'd still been conscious, Francis would've known he was going to die soon. That's assuming his faith wasn't still deluding him of the reality of the situation.

Either way, it didn't really matter. His arm was broken, his rib cracked and he was not going to be waking up for a long, long time.

"He's been out there a long time." Girl #16, Alexandra said of Boy #4, Dave.

Boy #5, Kris, looked out the window and nodded, "Yeah…I don't know. Dave's never…" He searched for the words, "Been affected by something. You know?"

Alexandra was puzzled.

"Well, it's like…he knows he's hurt someone, their feelings or whatever. But it's never plagued him. It's never made him feel crappy," Kris explained, going slowly as his vocabulary wasn't that huge. "He's always just said what he wanted, and given no regard. But with you…I don't know. I'm confused myself."

"I think I get it." Alexandra said. Of course she was humouring him. She didn't believe it. Dave wasn't like other people…she could tell.

Kris nodded, getting off of Alexandra's bed and picking up his glass of water. Heading over to the door, he stopped and leaned in its frame.

Sighing he said, "With you…he never liked you. I'm not sure he does now. But…he's sorry…really sorry."

Kris looked back at Alexandra's crippled form, "That's the only way I can say it."

Alex smiled slightly, "I get it. Don't worry. I understand."

Smiling back for a moment, Kris said, "You should sleep. It's way past your bed-time I'll bet."

Bed-time…If only I was at home. Mum would have come in to say goodnight hours ago…I wonder if Kris's mother ever does that for him.

A single, shimmering tear started to form in her eye, but she wiped it away.

"OK," She said, "I'll sleep…goodnight."

"Goodnight." Kris whispered, switching off the pair's torches which were lighting the room. Quietly, he stepped out of the room and pulled the door shut.

Kris paused for a moment, leaning against the door. He exhaled loudly, and, like Alex, wiped a tear from his eye.

"God, this is so fucked up!"

Kris headed out to where his pack lay. Foolishly, he'd left the AK sitting on a defaced sofa, but no one had taken it. The table was strewn with out of date medicine and bandages, the remnants of his and Dave's attempt at first aid.

Kris stood at the front door to the building for a moment, looking out at the dark shadow that was the van, which was only illuminated by the pale moonlight. Kris shined his torch for a moment to check whether Dave was still there. Indeed he was, so Kris headed back inside.

He looked at his watch. The time read 11:37. Sighing, he sat down on the sofa and placed the rifle on his lap. He rested his head on the wall behind him and sighed once more. He had nothing to do, he was insanely bored, and yet the thought to sleep had never crossed his mind.

"So…when are you going?" Boy #19, Andrew asked sarcastically.

Boy #2, Anthony, laughed at this.

"I guess I have stayed around a lot longer than I said I would, haven't I?" He smiled.

"Yup, you sure have!" Andrew said, playfully.

The two laughed for a bit more, before falling silent. The girls, Girl #7, Melissa, and Girl #21, Elle, had drifted off to sleep a long time before, and Anthony was well on his way to doing the same, despite his inherent distrust of all present.

This silence was proving to be Andrew's downfall. It was unnerving. There was absolutely no sound except for the occasional breeze…not even crickets! This…deadness in the air allowed Andrew time to think about everything he was missing.

Parents…

A proper home…

Real friends…

A drug-free life…

This last was the one he dwelled upon the most. He'd lived without parents, friends and a home since he was little, but drugs were a newer occurrence, and far more destructive. He was starting to feel the burn for them. In such a totally-beyond stressful situation like the one he was in, he was starting to feel panicked, and he knew if he could have just one joint he'd be fine…he'd be fine…

I'd be fine…

But you don't need them!

I'd be fine…

Would you?

I'd be fine…

Wouldn't they fuck with you?

Get you killed?

No…

NO!

I'd be fine…

I'd be fine…

I'd be fine…

Girls #9 and #11, Rachael and Chloe, were still in hysterics. Their sense of abandonment had not gotten better…only much worse. So much worse.

Rachael was pressed up against a tree, hugging her knees in a vain attempt to keep warm. Chloe merely knelt in the mud, as rain soaked through her clothes. Neither could stop crying.

If someone like Sam had come up now…the two would end up dead, no questions asked. But of course, he, nor anyone else, happened upon them. They were left alone, drowning themselves in fear and desperation.

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN KEEPING THAT?!" Girl #18, Felicity shrieked, jumping up and down, clapping her hands in utter excitement.

Boy #7, Tom, laughed at her joy, and set the block of chocolate down on the pew.

"I thought you might not want it…" He said, casually.

"Why the hell not?" Felicity asked, frowning.

"I dunno…a lot of girls I know don't eat chocolate…because it'll make them 'fat'."

He explained.

"PFFT!" Felicity spat, flippantly, "Gimme some of that choccy!"

Tom laughed again and slit the chocolate's wrapper open with his finger-nail. He pulled back the foil and broke the block into four pieces.

"Here," He said, giving her the largest piece.

"Oh my God, THANK-YOU!" She squealed, hugging him, chocolate in hand.

"HEY! JACK!" Tom yelled across the church, to where Boy #6, Jack, sat deep in thought. He was thinking so hard he didn't even hear Tom's call.

Frustrated, Tom jogged over to him and lightly whacked him over the head.

"WHAT?" Jack asked, surprised. Tom held out the chocolate to him, and he took it eagerly, "Thanks mate!"

Tom looked around the church for a moment, searching for Boy #11, Ollie.

"Felicity," Tom asked.

"Yes?"

"Where's Ollie?"

"Still outside, singing in the rain."

Ollie was indeed singing in the rain, a Pantera song he'd been singing the morning Battle Royale had started. Tom soon broke him out of the singing daze and gave him his share of the chocolate.

"Thanks pal!" Ollie said, cheerfully.

If you think chocolate's going to help you survive, you've got a real problem.

Tom frowned. There seemed to be something wrong with Ollie's smile. It just looked…odd. Shaking the thought off, he went inside, to find Felicity already wolfing down the chocolate.

Looking through the papers, Sophie found two small newspaper clippings.

The first was clipped from the editorial section of the Herald Sun, June 1st, 2004.

The greatest abomination to date

What kind of world are we living in when our own country condemns its students to death in such a grotesque fashion? Are we that much under the thumb of our allies that we will copy their disciplinary measures, action-by-action? Our government has already followed the Americans into a war, do we really need to mimic THIS? Howard's more of a fool then I thought. Whoever came up with the idea of the Battle Royale, whatever criminally insane Japanese official thought of the concept, is so EVIL I cannot describe it in this editorial piece. All I can do is give the parents of those poor, POOR children's parents my DEEPEST condolences. What has been done this morning by our own government is the single, most abominable, heinous thing a government has ever done. And I am ashamed to call myself Australian. M, Stansby, Adelaide

"Well, I guess some people knew," Sophie whispered, turning the next article.

In it was the tiny picture of a braces-wearing boy, no older than her, smiling at the camera. The title read, First BR Champion¸ and it was dated the third of June, 2004, just over one year previously.

It read as follows:

The first of what will be many Battle Royale champions has been revealed today, as he was brought in from Magnetic Island, where the event took place.

Finishing last night, surviving for two days and eleven hours, the boy, whose name can only be revealed as being 'Mitch', fought bravely throughout the competition. He eventually 'scored' four points, in the event, the last involving a battle that lasted over twenty minutes.

The other contestants will be retrieved in two days time, once autopsies have been performed, confirming that everything went according to the government's plan.

"Goddamnit," Sophie moaned. She recognised the boy, she recognised the date.

Tara…that was when…that was the boy…who…who killed…Tara…

32 Remain.

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Side Story 1: Side Story #1- Family Conflicts

Sophie was born late in 1990, and her cousin, Tara, was born an hour later. They first met on their first day of kindergarten, and had, ever since, maintained a…difficult relationship.

Tara had always grated on Sophie's nerves. She was always around. ALWAYS. When Sophie started first grade in primary school, Tara transferred in. There, she proceeded to forcibly alienate Sophie from everyone in the class. And Sophie knew it was her. From there, she did it again and again. At tae-bo, parties, Boat Race…everything Sophie wanted to be a part of.

It had all eventually come to blows when the girls were fourteen.

Sophie's mother was driving the girls home from rowing practice, and the girls were arguing, as usual. Finally, Tara said something that Sophie could never take.

"You know Soph, you may think you're all that," Tara whispered, so Sophie's mother couldn't hear, "At least I'm not friends with the faggots!"

Sophie had always stuck up for everyone, but especially for Calin and Stefan, whenever anyone screwed with them because of their sexuality.

The moment the word 'faggot' escaped Tara's mouth, Sophie turned, and with one violent slap, sent her head slamming into the window.

"SOPHIE!" Her mother shrieked, slamming on the brakes.

Sophie went to hit her cousin again, but Tara ducked the blow, and instead launched herself at the other girl. The two wrestled for a moment, pulling at each other's hair, while each tried to undo their seat-belts, so they could fight easier.

It was quickly broken up by Sophie's mother and passers-by, but the damage was done. Tara's nose was broken, and Sophie's eye was as black as the car they drove in.

For weeks afterwards, they didn't utter a single word to each other. Anytime they saw each other, each would throw the other a gaze of utter loathing.

Eventually, their feelings began to build-up, and another confrontation, much like the one in the car, was expected by all around them.

It never came. Instead, one morning, Sophie came to school to find that Tara had transferred out into another school. As it turned out, the rumours of Tara's girl-gang related activities were true, and been 'asked' by the school to leave. Embarrassed beyond recognition, Tara's parents moved their family to Melbourne, where Tara enrolled at a strict, Catholic school.

To say that Sophie was ecstatic is an understatement.

Immediately after Tara's departure, Sophie's social-life blossomed into the most developed in the school. Everyone knew her, everyone loved her. It was perfect, and for three months on end Sophie didn't see Tara at all. She was happy. Tara had ruined her life, and now that she was gone, Sophie was truly content.

Until it all came crashing down, that is. Lunch-time of the last day of July, 2004, Sophie learned of Battle Royale, as did nearly every adult in the country (the children staying happily oblivious).

Tara's class, at her new school, in her new city, had been chosen as the test group for Australia's own BR. Taken in the wee hours of the morning, the class was flown north, to Magnetic Island, a resort hot-spot, minutes from Townsville and the Great Barrier Reef. They were given half of the island to roam over, and the same three days as any other competition.

Sophie never learned the details of what took place, much like the rest of the country. But she did know that it had eventually come down to Tara and a boy named 'Mitch'. They fought. Mitch won, and became the inaugural Australian Battle Royale champion.

He committed suicide a week later.

Ever since that day when Sophie had read of Tara's death in the paper, she'd been plagued by dreams, hideous visions of what Tara's last moments may have been like. Every night for an entire year she'd had them. Soon, they became darker, more perverse, brutal and sadistic. At the same time, Sophie had become obsessed with learning everything she could about the two or so days it had taken to erase Tara's existence.

The night before Class C of Ballarat & Clarendon College was entered into the competition, Sophie had completed the puzzle of Tara's last day. All it did was make the dreams worse.