Day 1 2:04 AM

There was something strangely romantic about the way the stars in the sky gleamed brilliantly in the stillness of the night. In view of the fact that at daybreak, students would brawl, maim and kill one another, it seemed perversely inappropriate. This bitter irony was not lost on Jewel Siu Tung (Girl #10) as she strolled aimlessly down the western pathway, carelessly swing the nunchaku she had been provided with and humming the melodies of several of her favourite pop tunes. She wasn't sure of how to actually use her weapon (she hadn't bothered to read the manual) and even if she had, it was unlikely she could have put up much of a fight against an attacker, being so dazed and giddy with confusion. This disagreeable sensation was similar to the drunken haze she had found herself in on the occasion she had consumed too many Bacardi breezers at Frankie's 16th birthday party, and copiously vomited when she returned home later.

Amidst her confusion she could only focus her mind on one thing: boys. It was not that she pined for the affection of any of them, quite the contrary; she intensely hated almost all of them, but now realised that the emotional bridges she had burnt in that respect might come back to haunt her in this deadly game. Two potential suitors had been spurned by her (one quite cruelly so) and Jewel worried as to whether either of them would try to avenge their wounded pride; the rules were different here and if anyone had a score to settle, they would be perfectly able to do so.

It was her father's fault. She vividly remembered how he used to mercilessly beat her mother when they had lived in Japan, always taking his pent-up aggression out on her when he returned home from a stressful day at work. He would take her out onto the balcony of their apartment, where they would be hidden by the large surrounding trees, and repeatedly hit her with a kitchen rolling-pin. Jewel's mother never cried out. To scream would have alerted the neighbour's attention, maybe even resulted in them learning of what torment her husband was putting her through and that would not be acceptable; she would have brought shame upon herself (and the family) by revealing what was happening and the law would have offered her little security from her spouse. So she suffered mutely, whilst Jewel sat at the top of the staircase, muffling her sobs by burying her face in the fur of her teddy bear (her father would never lay a finger on her, but he would shout loudly or even lock her in her room if she angered him). Mrs. Siu Tung would later cover her bruises with makeup, never discussing what had happened with anybody, least of all her daughter.

But then the 'Battle Royale' program was introduced. Mr. Siu Tung, fearing for the welfare of his child, chose to immigrate to Britain with his wife and daughter (in the brief period before Japan blocked its citizens from leaving the country). It seemed that even the darkest of clouds had a silver lining: discovering the western freedoms for women that Japan had denied her, Mrs. Siu Tung filed for divorce on grounds of domestic abuse. After a protracted legal battle, she obtained not only a restraining order on her husband but also sole custody of Jewel (though later, when the BNP came to power and started to favour men above women, Mr. Siu Tung was granted access to his daughter on Saturdays) and set about healing the emotional (and physical) wounds that her husband had inflicted upon her. However whilst her mother progressively recuperated, Jewel began to distrust and even fear the opposite sex, abhorring the idea that she would eventually be expected to marry (like a proper Japanese woman) and even flirted with the idea of lesbianism as an excuse to avoid it (she harboured no attraction to members of her own gender – she considered same sex desires to be distasteful and unnatural – but was desperate to evade marriage).

Suspecting her daughter's inexplicable asexuality, Mrs. Siu Tung selected Bray Wood to be Jewel's school once she reached puberty, principally because it was coeducational and professed to 'create unity and understanding between the sexes'. Jewel was a natural beauty and at Bray Wood, that was all a girl needed. By default her attractiveness rendered her eligible to be a member of either of her year's two most exclusive (and prestigious) cliques; dubbed the 'Bitches' (Frankie Almond Smith's posse) and the 'Beauties' (Nicole Colville's sect). These sobriquets were not strictly fair, both groups were comprised of attractive females and both were prone to catty behaviour; however the perception remained that Frankie's group were the truly mean ones (due, in no small part, to the antics of Liz Dunn). There was a covert warfare between these two factions (heaven help anybody who strayed into the crossfire), as each of them vied for the most power in Bray Wood (this power was measured by which clique had the greater influence over their male peers), whilst they callously trampled over 'lesser' victims in the process. Deciding it was better to be in the loophole than out, Jewel chose to align herself with the 'Bitches', a move she was now regretting, as though she had gained security via popularity she lacked any true friends who could be relied upon.

And then there was Phil Argyle. She shivered at the mere thought of him; what began as a series of salacious text messages (who had given him her phone number? Probably Liz – always a treacherous bitch) had escalated into borderline sexual harassment as he continually made attempts to insinuate himself into her affections (with little skill to say the least). The culmination of these efforts came at the school disco, where a very drunk Phil (alcohol was prohibited at these dances, but Tian Berkley had succeeded in smuggling some in nonetheless) made an ill-fated attempt to grope Jewel's chest. Jewel's response was to knee him in the groin and then punch him in the face (consequently breaking his nose), and nearly getting herself expelled because of it (ultimately though, she only received several detentions as punishment).

Jewel was not in the habit of reacting violently when a boy showed interest in her (quite the opposite – such attention boosted her ceaselessly flagging level of self-esteem), but there was something about Phil Argyle that truly made her skin crawl. He was squat and stocky, with a face that bore a strong resemblance to a slab of mouldy cheese, whilst a fine layer of shaved hair covered his head (not quite a skinhead – that wasn't permitted at Bray Wood – but about as close as you could feasibly get) and his general appearance was that of an ape crossed with a Neo-Nazi. Regrettably his thuggish exterior did not conceal a sweet nature; it was in fact completely representational of his personality. Jewel loathed him, but she had an unpleasant suspicion that the feeling was now mutual.

She walked steadily further down the path, on either side there was the dark mystery of the forest, the two rows of dense green foliage indistinguishable from each other. There was a rustling of bushes to her left. She raised her nunchaku and approached, expecting it to just be a deer or some other form of native wildlife. The rustling stopped, Jewel stood still and breathed a sigh of relief. Behind her, there was the crunching of gravel underfoot. She turned around and looked straight into the eyes of the leering Phil Argyle (Boy # 15).

"Hello poppet." He sneered malevolently.

Jewel forcefully swung her nunchaku at his head. There was a satisfying crack as the metal collided with his skull, he yelled and clutched his hands to the area of pain whilst Jewel turned on her heel and prepared to run back the way she came. However after she had only taken a few paces forward, Fergal Mills (Boy #9) and Tian Berkley (Boy #1) leapt from the bushes, each grabbing one of her shoulders and shoving her onto the ground. Tian pressed down on her left shoulder (Fergal took her right) and placed his hand over her mouth to gag her. She frantically kicked her legs in a flurry of terror and tried to bite Tian's hand, but to no avail.

Phil eased himself onto Jewel's lap, pressuring her legs into submission (Phil was not the lightest of people) and comfortably seating himself on her pelvis. He giggled; it was a high pitched, throaty guffaw that made Jewel's stomach churn. She made an effort to struggle, but found it almost impossible to move.

"Now then Jewel, behave like a good girl. After all that's what you like to think you are isn't it? You hang around with a pack of sluts but you still won't let anybody touch you, you get so high and mighty, act so superior, thinking that I'm not worthy of your affections don't you, you bitch?" hissed Phil as he leaned forward.

Phil's large, cumbersome hands reached forward towards her school blouse. She was dazzlingly beautiful, even more so than Frankie or Nicole, as her attractiveness came from a natural grace and poise rather than through the appliance of plentiful amounts of cosmetics. His fingers trembled with excitement as he unhurriedly started to delicately undo her school blouse's buttons.

"Don't take too long, man!" said Fergal Mills, who then leant forward and whispered lasciviously in Jewel's ear, "It'll be my turn next."

Jewel writhed desperately and tried to shout as Phil finally succeeded in opening her blouse.

"Stop fucking moving!" snarled Phil, raising his right hand to slap her.

Phil shrieked as the bullet passed through his open palm, tiny granules of flesh scattering across Jewel's chest, whilst the blood started to seep down his arm. Phil (rather foolishly) stood up, not only making himself an easier target for the shooter but also relinquishing his weight on Jewel, and as Fergal and Tian lunged towards their packs to retrieve their weapons, Jewel now was left completely unattended.

"You fucking pig!" she spat at Phil.

She raised her left leg and thrust her stiletto heel into Phil's crotch, quickly getting to her feet and kneeing him in the jaw as he keeled forward in agony. A shout emanated from the forest on the left side of the path

"RUN! RUN! GET AWAY! QUICK, GO!"

Jewel didn't need encouragement; she sprinted with all her might down the pathway (wishing that she'd not worn her stilettos, which severely impaired her speed), feeling the rush of adrenaline surge through her as she hurried forward. Her mind was askew with disorientation and fear; it was a male voice she'd heard, but whose? Jewel winced as she heard more gunfire and a single, sharp scream.

She gulped; suddenly realising who her doomed saviour probably was.

He hadn't intended to shadow her for the whole game, just the first few hours when things would be at their most dangerous and Jewel was liable to feel very frightened. Upon leaving the HQ, he'd hidden in the bushes and waited for her to leave, running through the forest to keep her in sight but to make sure he was out of her vision. He'd only wanted to protect her; his Berretta M92F pistol was considered by him to be perfectly adequate for this task and he didn't (in theory) have any qualms about harming anybody who attacked her.

She was so radiantly gorgeous, even her little idiosyncrasies had a certain charm and her smile was endearing but also pleasingly genuine (a novelty amongst the female elite of Bray Wood). He was spellbound from the moment he laid eyes one her. Always shy and diffident in manner, he was nervous about approaching her (something he certainly wouldn't attempt when she was surrounded by all those anorexic harpies she regarded as her 'friends'), and for three years kept his burgeoning passion for her to himself.

But eventually he couldn't wait any longer, and on that fateful Wednesday afternoon he'd ambled over to her in the corridor of Science block (she was alone) and politely expressed his feelings for her. After hearing them, her expression was one of shock and mild amusement; he blushed and turned away to retreat back to his study, but then felt her take his hand in hers' and bring him back to face her.

"You're very sweet," she quietly informed him, "but I'm not really interested in you I'm afraid, but thank you for...well, it was brave of you to tell me how you felt, so...thanks, I guess."

She grinned kindly and walked away towards the chemistry laboratory. As the other students bustled past him, he remained standing completely motionless, going over every word she had spoken and committing them to memory. From then on Jewel had made a point of being pleasant to him when ever he was in her vicinity; little things like simply smiling or enquiring about how he was finding the schoolwork. These social niceties were savoured by him, each of them a little treasure in their own right, a gesture that meant the world to him and would never be forgotten. He didn't delude himself that Jewel felt anything for him other than, perhaps, a slight fondness for his harmlessness and his rather nerdy quirks but he nevertheless was resolute that he would protect her (at least initially).

It was harder than he imagined though; he'd been so shocked when he saw those three brutes force her to the ground and attempt to violate her, he'd hesitated, unsure of how to act and concerned about the accuracy of his aim; but then Phil had raised his hand, clearly about to hit her. He pulled the trigger.

Tian Berkley thumped Fei Yan (Boy #2) twice in the gut. There had been a tussle and a fair amount of shooting but now Fergal Mills was holding the hapless Fei up by his shoulders, whilst Tian (and Phil intermittently) pummelled him in the chest. After searching through his own rucksack, Tian had located a rather old (and unpleasantly odorous) sock, which Phil now had tied around his wounded hand. The pain was almost unbearable; though fortunately he was left handed and thus could still use the pistol that Fei had been carrying (his provided weapon had been a sickle – average at best, but with his wound it would now also be very unwieldy to use).

Fei was a brutalised mess. His face was a mask of bruises and lacerations (from where Tian and Phil's nails had torn his skin), his bottom lip had been cut by the ring Tian wore on his index finger and his glasses had been smashed, meaning his vision was poor.

"Can we please just do something with him?" moaned Fergal. Fergal was the biggest of the three (no mean feat; Tian wasn't exactly what you'd call petite) and had his hair spiked up with the aid of a particularly powerful brand of hair gel. He was of Irish descent and had exceptional pride in his heritage (despite living in England for almost the entire duration of his life, he still feigned a faint Irish brogue) and was rumoured (inaccurately) to be a supporter of the IRA (this rumour sprung from the fact that he was an ardent nationalist and was suspect to reacting violently if anyone made a slur against his 'homeland').

"You know, in the middle east the punishment for theft is the removal of your hand. Now, one could argue that you've just stolen something from Phil, in view of the fact he now has limited use of his right hand, and hence we could claim moral justification for going with the old biblical decree of 'an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth'. So if you don't mind, I think I'll do the honours." Tian said.

Fergal slammed Fei face down onto the ground, nearly giving him a concussion as a result. Tian grabbed Fei's right arm and chuckled.

"Fergal, mind if I borrow your axe?" he asked.

Fergal nonchalantly shook his head and handed Tian the fire axe he had been provided with. Tian placed his foot on Fei's wrist and raised the axe. Fei felt so deadened from the repeated beatings he had received, he could only whimper in protest. Tian brought the axe down with a chilling thump.

Even though she was quite a long distance away by now, Jewel nevertheless heard the bloodcurdling screech that came from the forest. She fought back her tears, it was almost certainly Fei Yan who had saved her and she was convinced it was his scream she'd heard. But what was she to do? She only had a nunchaku as a weapon, could she fend them off if she returned? Was Fei even alive anymore? It was all too awful to contemplate. However, if it was true that he'd sacrificed his life to save hers, then she felt she must honour Fei's wishes by preserving her life for as long as possible. With a moderate amount of reluctance, she sped off in the direction she was headed and left Fei to face his gruesome fate.

Fergal had a rather queasy feeling in his stomach. It had taken three strikes with the axe to sever Fei's hand (Fei had almost passed out from the pain) and now all that remained was a bloody stump at the end of his arm.

"OK, I get to finish him off," said Phil, rising from the log he had been sitting on, "Fergal, hold him up again."

"I don't take orders from anybody, least of all you." Fergal snapped, snatching his axe back from Tian.

"What's that supposed to mean?" retorted Phil.

"I pride myself in not listening to idiots, even if they are my friends."

"You fucking twat." Phil said quietly.

"Ok, that's enough." Tian interjected, now standing between them, "I'll hold him up. You gonna use the sickle?"

"Thought I might as well, you know, seems a waste not to use it once."

"Why won't you be using it again?" asked Fergal.

"Well...I'll be taking the Beretta won't I?"

"Hey, what gives? Why does he get the Beretta? That means I'll be stuck with this crap axe whilst you two hold all the real firepower – what with Tian having that Shotgun!" Fergal loudly complained.

"You can have the sickle too." Phil weakly offered.

"Look," Tian began, "whether you like it or not, Phil's right hand is as good as useless, therefore he needs to get the Beretta. We'll get you some better weapons later, but for now it would be really much better if we just tried to get along and not bitch constantly. Agreed?"

Fergal nodded grudgingly. Tian grabbed the nearly comatose Fei by the armpits and raised him to his feet, where he steadily held him. Phil held the sickle in his left hand and approached. Fei awakened from his pain-induced stupor to see the moon's reflection in the polished metal of the blade, he screamed. Phil raised the sickle and drove it into Fei's neck (disappointed to see it did not pass all the way through), severing several of his major arteries and creating a wide gash on his neckline. Tian released his grip on Fei; he fell to the ground like a rag doll, the sickle still embedded in his neck. Phil stood stock still and stared disbelievingly at the corpse. He looked at Tian, who beamed cheerfully.

"Welcome to hell my friend." He said.

29 Students Remain