I heard an F.C being fired above me, then saw Rath dart past me, taking the Ripper on the way to the main deck. Jayce was on a killing spree, and I had to hurry to catch up.
I looked down at the lowest part of the ship, noticing an F.C warp in below me on some boxes. Carefully, I jumped down and grabbed it, then went and got myself some ammo for it. It took a short search of the bottom level to find an elevator of some sort and took that up.
Time wasn't on my side. I scurried up to the main deck, taking out Vanessa again on my way. Jayce, whether it was the Jayce I had known for five years or not, was on a killing spree and I had to catch up.
I had to win.
It was like a need now, to be the one with the most frags. A temptation so strong it could not be ignored. It was like an addiction.
No, it was an addiction.
I hurried over to where I had heard the gunshots before, and I saw the back of a woman in a red metal suit putting the finishing touches on Rath.
"Squeal boy, squeal!" she taunted, but wait; her voice was deeper than the high pitched hum of Jayce Carter. My Jayce Carter.
Jayce spun around as quick as lighting when she became aware of me. She let out a burst of flak while jumping in the air so that I missed when I shot my F.C. Jayce landed with a small thud on her stomach and, through the burning pain I felt on my face, I managed to let out a flak grenade that painted the walls with my foe.
I killed the leader, but I still needed to catch up.
I finished up the match by fragging Jayce and everyone a few more times. We all shook hands in the aftermath, but I was a little more than reluctant to shake Fuego's or Vanessa's. Fuego because he was just freaky, and Vanessa because I didn't want her to try ripping my arm off again. Oddly enough, I noticed some coordinators scraping up our blood, as if cleaning up the place for whomever owned it.
When I got back to my appartment I flopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking about my life before the tourney. Jayce and I had been more than the best of friends. We shared secrets and gossiped and did all that girlish stuff together. We held a sleepover party every other weekend at either my house or hers with just the two of us. We would have the wildest pillowfights and would toast all the events of the weeks before.
But what now?
It was rather depressing that Jayce wasn't my Jayce Carter, but what would we have said to one another? What would we have done if the coordinators of the Tournament put us together? Would Jayce have been addicted to the smell of others blood and shot me without a second thought, as I might have done? Would Jayce stand over my body after fragging me and gloat?
There was just way too many questions and not enough answers.
But what if Jayce hadn't changed? Would we have a pillowfight? Would we gossip about guys in the tourney with us? Would we toast our victories and the coordinators of this sick sport?
The thing that bothered me most of all, was that I didn't know.