AN: I won the first round of the contest with my character, Carlotta.
So, in this chapter, Carlotta begins to feel the guilt of what she's done get to her.
Also, Calder Redwell belongs to Charil Zweig.
Battle Royale…
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Subject: Carlotta, female, 18
DABRII Contestant ID#: 29
Status: Alive
Location: C2
1st Round Status: Victorious
2nd Round Status: Has Yet To Begin
Next Opponent: TBA
Time: 0300
Satellite: Locked
Carlotta didn't sleep well.
She was back with Tace, but it wasn't the warm welcome she imagined. Instead of smiling and perhaps throwing his arms around her, he glared angrily down at her with his dark eyes from several paces away. "What have you done?!" he demanded.
Carlotta tried to smile but it came out questioning. He must be joking, she thought. He was the one who sent her to the island in the first place.
But Tacite Santino didn't back down. He still looked angrier than Carlotta had ever seen him. Carlotta's eyes widened slowly. "Tace, what… what do you mean?"
"You know what I mean!" He was more furious than the dark clouds above him. "You killed a man! You murdered Aaron Ways!" He seemed to be horrified just looking at Carlotta. "In cold blood you slaughtered him! Did you really think I'd welcome you back into my home after something like that?!"
"But…" Heavy tears fell from Carlotta's eyes. "What are you talking about? I thought that was what you wanted, Tace…" Carlotta reached out a hand but the man slapped it away.
"Don't call me that," he said coldly. He gestured towards her. "And why would I want something like you?" Mr. Santino's eyes narrowed. "You're disgusting."
Carlotta cried, "Why, Tace? Why did you send me to that island if you didn't want me to kill him?" She took a step toward him.
Tacite Santino stood back and kicked Carlotta to the ground easily. "Stupid, foolish girl… You're worth nothing. I was hoping you'd die."
The words tore into her and she just couldn't bear it. Carlotta screamed. She writhed on the ground, trying to beg, plead, anything with Tace. She clung to his shoes but he easily shook her off with a kick to her face.
Carlotta touched where he'd kicked her. She was bleeding. Drops fell from her hands and face: Crimson tears that fell harder and faster than the transparent ones from her eyes. She still cried as an ocean of salty blood surrounded her.
Carlotta awoke with real tears in her eyes. She touched her face but it didn't hurt. It really was all a dream.
She wailed softly from her bed, "Tace…!" The single cry alone would've been heart wrenching enough if anyone was to hear it, but Carlotta was alone, and she went on unheard. "Why did you send me here… I don't want to kill anyone, Tace… They haven't even done anything wrong…!" Tears dripped silently from her eyes in the darkness. She was wounded in a way the infirmary had failed to heal. "Why, Tace…?" Carlotta sobbed again, her cries muffled against the old material of her cot. "Why do you want me to kill these people…? Tace…"
She was emotionally drained; her pillow tearstained. Her grief seemed to have passed over her in a relentless tsunami. Her heart ached, but not just for herself. It seemed her conscience had caught up to her after all.
Aaron Ways.
She had killed a man, intentionally, too. She could barely claim it was self defense; she couldn't remember who had struck first. And the worst part was that when she did it, she hadn't felt an ounce of remorse.
Sure, now she did. But that wasn't good enough… It didn't even begin to make up for what she'd done.
Her conscience, visiting her in the caverns of the night, disguised in the form of Tace: The form of her boss… her most important friend… her love?
She did suppose Tace was a sort of conscience to her. He told her what to do, and for the most part it seemed right. Well, except…
Carlotta fell asleep before she finished her thoughts.
When Carlotta woke again, the sun had raised itself enough to shine a dim shaft of light through a window of the bunker-type building she'd slept in. Though the earth was slowly warming and the island was constantly maintained a hot temperature, she was cold. Not in the physical sense of the word, but the emotional. "Stupid conscience…" she practically growled. "I had every reason in the world to kill Aaron." She muttered as she sat up in her bed, "Being here is to kill or to be killed… I had every reason in the world…"
She rubbed her temples. She had a pretty bad headache. Perhaps the varying elevations of the island were having a strange effect on her?
Oh… Lotty didn't remember eating at all the day before… No wonder why she was so tired… and that would explain the headache. How could she have forgotten to eat?
She picked her bag up from the floor and went through it. The food and rope she'd taken from Aaron were right on top. She ungraciously helped herself to the food she'd stolen. There was a small quantity of dried fruit, as well as something that tasted like freeze-dried cheese. She took a drink from her canteen, not realizing how dry her mouth was until the water touched her lips.
She combed through the rest of her belongings. There was a compass which she found moderately useless in the daytime (the sun was much easier to use).
Inside her pack was also a flashlight, the map of Doragon Joutan, and the supplies she'd brought with her from home. She had a change of clothes, a surplus of rope, and a magnifying glass. When she came upon her passport, she took it out of her bag and opened it up.
Her picture wasn't a good one. But damn, such a carefree smile beamed up at her from the page. Carlotta stared down at the picture. That smile… she thought angrily. It was an old smile, a smile that rarely showed itself nowadays. For sure, she thought, it wouldn't be showing itself while on this hellish island.
She found herself wanting to burn the passport, or crumple it and throw it somewhere she'd never see it again. The feeling only lasted a second though. She quickly remembered the papers were necessary to return home.
But she bowed her head in irritation. Tace had gotten her the passport in order for her to travel on previous… assignments. But now she was beginning to wonder if perhaps he had had a greater scheme than just that. She thought maybe even then he had known he was sending her, his protégé of sorts, to this twisted program on this equally twisted island.
It would be just like him too. Although he did have his good qualities, he also had a knack of getting Carlotta mixed up in things she didn't particularly want to be involved in.
Example one: Battle Royale. Carlotta hadn't wanted to sign up for it. Tace had signed up for her. Of course, she did have a choice. But Carlotta would never let Tace down, never. He was the most important thing in her life. He was so many things… And to disappoint him was worse than failing to her. No matter how displeased she was in what was happening to her, she couldn't have just let him down: Especially not after he had done so much for her.
Carlotta sighed heavily. Her eyes softened and her muscles relaxed. "Let's see now…" I recall… after the first day we're allowed to venture out to the warehouses and reclaim our confiscated items… She hummed to herself, bringing the map of the island out of her bag. "I'm in… C2, so the nearest warehouse is in square… C3. Actually, it's practically between C3 and D3," she murmured to herself. "I'll head over there before I go to my designated square…" Though I'm not quite sure where that'll be yet…
Carlotta supposed she would be assigned another opponent considering she had finished off her last. She wanted to grab her confiscated stapler and whatever had been confiscated from Aaron before that happened. But she hoped her square wouldn't be that far off from the warehouse. She didn't exactly have all the time in the world.
The island of Doragon Joutan seemed the epitome of tranquility as Carlotta raced southward down one of the winding footpaths. The air was dry and still, but the scent of ocean salt still carried over the island with the coming and going of the waves eroding the island's beaches. There were dark clouds coming over the peak of the western horizon, but besides that the weather was fine.
Carlotta slowed to a walk as she passed a fork in the pedestrian road. She assumed she would need to be even more vigilant in her awareness to her surroundings as she neared the warehouse.
She almost suffered a heart attack when a plane flew overhead. The whir and grind of its engine turbines was enough to startle anyone.
Carlotta looked up towards the sky and watched the plane. It seemed to be small and flying awfully low. She wondered whether it was a part of the BR Company or whether it was just a passenger transport to some normal island.
It was then that she noticed the other movement.
Parachutes billowed out over several unidentified objects as they were released from the plane. Carlotta watched as they came closer and closer to the ground. She didn't think about where they were going until she realized (with a start) that one of the parachutes was headed in her direction.
Carlotta realized she had stopped and began to walk in the direction of the falling object. It landed only a few feet away with its parachute caught in a tree.
Carlotta stood under it. A small wooden box, possibly eight by four inches, was tied to the end of the parachute. I wonder if… it's dangerous, Carlotta thought. It could be anything; a bomb perhaps or something even worse. But she took a few steps closer to inspect it better. Her curiosity was getting the better of her. She didn't think something would land in her reach by 'accident' and she wanted to know what she was supposed to receive.
Sure enough there was small black painted lettering on the box that Carlotta hadn't seen before: Carlotta Santino.
Looking from side to side almost guiltily, Carlotta checked to make sure no one was nearby before walking right up to the box. She listened as well as she could, but not a sound escaped the box.
She didn't think it was a bomb. Well, that wasn't true. For all she knew, it could've been a bomb. She didn't have doubts that it might be one. But she took the box in her hands anyway, using the dagger from her belt to slice it from the parachute and pry it open.
The wooden prison cracked open to reveal a small metal object and a neatly folded piece of paper. Carlotta read the paper as she picked up what came in the box.
Dear Miss Santino, the letter said.
Congratulations! Making it past the first round of Battle Royale isn't something many people can say they've accomplished! What you have there is a knuckle duster, or a set of brass knuckles.
Carlotta looked to the item she held in her hand. It had four holes for her fingers to go through and she did so, seeing what it felt like. The metal was cold. She held up a fist and admired it though. It was pretty artsy. She went back to the letter.
We'll leave it to you to decide what you want to do with them. Just consider it a gift from the judges. We're watching.
Rena Singe, BR Judge
PS. This letter was poisoned. Enjoy your last moments.
Carlotta's eyes widened. WHAT?! She looked hastily for more of a message. There were a few sentences scrawled on the backside of the page:
JUST KIDDING! AHAHAHAHA!
But seriously, enjoy your last moments.
Even if we leave you alive now, you only have a one in sixteen chance of staying alive the next forty-eight hours.
Good luck!
The Members of BR Inc.
Carlotta groaned. "That wasn't funny, damnit!"
It really did seem like everyone was out to get her.
Far away, in a completely different time zone, Tacite Santino sat in a contemplative trance, his eyes unfocused. The large window of his drawing room where he sat showed only darkness outside, since the sun had already set.
Inside it was warm. A fire blazed in the corner of the room out from an ornate stone fireplace. Tacite sat in a large, comfortable armchair with his feet propped up lazily on an ottoman. A small, hardcover book was held in his left hand, but it wasn't being read. His left arm draped over the side of the chair while he sat back and just watched the glowing flames.
It had been an active day for him. He'd been out and about on several occasions throughout the afternoon. He'd met with one of his company's affiliates, Celene Keak, to discuss her company's situation. The agreement Tacite had made with Ms. Keak several weeks ago was also brought up.
When it came down to it, Celene's company didn't make that much of a difference to Mr. Santino. But the agreement did matter to him… more than it should have.
Almost four weeks ago, Tacite had met with Ms. Keak and her husband Neil to discuss further affiliation between their companies. Along the way, the Battle Royale concept had been brought up for debate. Because both Mr. Santino and the Keaks had multiple people under their wing, so to speak, they had wondered whether anyone would be signing anyone up for the lethal contest.
Mr. and Ms. Keak had a son they had thought about sending, but he was much too young to participate in such activities. They figured they would wait another year, at least.
Tacite ended up being the only one to sign on the dotted line.
He'd requested the forms for entering the contest and signed Carlotta up, post haste. But that doesn't mean he didn't think about it. He thought about dragging Carlotta out of the tournament every minute leading up to her bon voyage. But he hadn't.
For some reason he hadn't. And he was really beginning to question why he'd signed her up in the first place.
Tacite's eyes darted up from the fire's call and to an antiquated telephone that hung from his wall. Of course, just because it was an antique didn't mean it didn't still work.
Tacite Santino decided to make a phone call.
He rose from the depths of his chair, pulling himself up slowly to stand and walk over to where the phone hung on the wall.
He picked up the receiver and his fingers fell to the dial. It wasn't the first time he'd ever called the number, so his movements were quick and lithe. Within seconds the dial tone had evolved to a ring as he waited for the other side to pick up.
And after several rings, many long moments of tentative waiting, someone did.
"Hello Santino," said a feminine voice from the other end.
Tacite raised an eyebrow, "You're good, Celene. A little too good…" He paused as she laughed. "How did you know who I was?" he asked.
"It's a little something I call caller ID. Really, everyone has it."
"Not everyone can be like you," Tacite answered, irritation in his voice.
Celene laughed. "Well yes, I suppose I do keep up with the times." She quickly moved on, having sensed the impatience in Mr. Santino's voice. "So what are you calling about?" she inquired.
"I was wondering if," he hesitated, "you could punch me in to BR headquarters…"
"Why?" Celene asked playfully, "Are you worried about your little Lotty?"
"Don't ask me something of little importance to you," Tacite warned.
"Aw, I was just wondering! And it's cute, Tace. It really is cute how much you care."
"Stop it." Tacite practically growled. "Don't call me that and don't toy with me, you sadist—!"
"Relax!" Celene cut him off. "Gods, a girl can't even joke anymore without her head being bitten off…" She sighed. "Yes, I can phone you through to BR Inc. But you have to promise me something first."
Mr. Santino thought about hanging up, but then reconsidered. "What?!" he asked angrily.
Celene said slowly, "Take a chill pill. You need to lighten up, really you do… And you shouldn't be afraid to really care for someone..."
Tacite was silent, his eyes narrowed at the phone and his thoughts brewing.
Beep.
"Hello, Battle Royale Inc, this is Rena!"
Mr. Santino exhaled slowly, trying to rid himself of tension. "Hello Rena, this is Mr. Santino."
It wasn't long before Carlotta reached the warehouse. She figured it was still before noon; about the time she might've eaten breakfast on a normal day. But this wasn't a normal day.
She wasn't surprised, though, that didn't take to long to cross into C3 and then find the warehouse. It was only a square away from where she'd started off that morning. She hadn't expected it to take too long.
When she did get there she wasn't quite sure where to start. It was a gigantic building. It probably took up a good chunk of the square, maybe a third. Carlotta wasn't quite sure where to get in. A lot of the windows were boarded up, and it wasn't like she could just walk through the concrete walls.
Carlotta looked around, walking back and forth on the outside of the building. Damn, how am I gonna get in?! She turned another corner of the building and saw a door had been blocked off with miscellaneous odds and ends; a broken ladder, a few tires, some thick shafts of wood, and numerous shingles. Without thinking much of it, Carlotta climbed up the pile for a better view, her bowling ball flail swung over her shoulder. She was very careful not to accidentally fall or cut herself on any of the things she climbed.
When she got to the top of the mountain of wood and rusty metal, she was able to glance more easily at her surroundings. There was a pane-less window a little ways down the wall, second story, that Carlotta had evidently not noticed when she'd been looking for ways in. There was a terrace of sorts she figured she could probably jump onto from the pile of junk that would lead her right to it.
She threw her bowling ball out in front of her by the rope. She let it swing back and forth a couple times before letting it go. It landed well enough on the ledge. Rolling a bit, but the rope tied around it stopped it before it could really get anywhere.
Now it was Lotty's turn to jump.
But she didn't want to fall.
Come on, come on, Lotty, this is really easy… you won't fall… It's not even that far of a drop… Carlotta hesitated, legs bent, wondering if the junk she stood on would fall out from under her if she jumped and moved too quickly. If it did, and she missed the ledge of the roof, she'd probably fall and be impaled on something sharp and rusty.
Lotty tried to calm herself, but for some reason it wasn't working as well as she wanted it to. She wanted to jump, she really did. She knew it was probably her most likely chance of getting into the building and she really wanted to get her stapler back. It was a good weapon. And it was sort of like a lucky charm to her: A big, clunky, metal, lucky charm.
She needed to move forward! Come on! she yelled internally. You can do this, why is it so hard? The bridge was harder than this, wasn't it? But that was before… and now… I have to move forward.
Carlotta steadied herself, tried not to think about anything, especially falling. All she did was concentrate on the ledge she needed to get to. And then she tried, with one exhale, to let it all go; the stress, the fear, and anxiety, all of it.
And then she jumped. She was in the air, going as far as she could.
She must have miscalculated, because she didn't quite land the way she wanted to.
The tops of Carlotta's knees hit the roof tiles but instantly slipped off as gravity pulled them downward. Her elbows felt bruised on impact and her abdomen hit the ledge so hard that the wind was knocked out of her. She gasped for breath and her empty hands reached out for anything, anything at all, but there was nothing but insignificant shingles for her to hold on to. Her legs were falling over the side of the ledge and she just hoped her top half was heavy enough to keep her from falling completely.
Her nails managed to claw into the side of the shingled roof to hold her up at least temporarily, but Carlotta could feel herself slipping. She tried to claw forward onto the ledge. It hurt trying to pull her legs up and over the corner, but she was sure the pain was nothing compared to the fall below. She raised her legs until they were almost horizontal in an effort to balance more.
The shoe of her right foot even pushed against the wall in an effort to save her. Her shoes were still bloodied from her fight with Aaron. Even as fear clouded her mind and she tried with a tremendous effort to nudge her way back up to safety.
I wonder if he felt like this right before I killed him…scared…desperate to live…I wonder if his life flashed before his eyes…
Her life didn't flash in front of her eyes. All there was to think about was the fear of falling: The fear of dropping from the sky and landing without a parachute, the fear of seeing the earth a mile beneath you and knowing if you let go, you're as good as dead.
Carlotta almost laughed at the irony as she pushed herself forward another inch, but instead of a laugh, a cry escaped her lips. What was she scared of? They were all supposed to die in three days anyway! And she'd faced worse than this already! What am I scared of?!
Carlotta inched herself forward another inch and realized she should only fear one thing, and perhaps falling wasn't a fear worth her time. Maybe she should fear something deeper…
With a final stretch forward, Carlotta managed to claw her way enough to drag the rest of herself up onto the shingled platform. Her arms and legs were scratched up a bit, and she may have gotten a few bruises, but besides that she was fine.
A single tear fell from each of Carlotta's eyes. She wasn't quite sure whether it was because she was so relieved, or whether it was because she didn't think falling was the worst thing in the world anymore. She'd thought of something worse. Maybe something that had been triggering her fear of falling all along.
When she had made the leap and fallen, her life didn't flash before her eyes. No, only one thing besides the fear of falling had been in her mind. Tace…
Tears fell from her eyes and Carlotta did nothing to stop them. She was okay. There was no one around to see her anyway. She let herself fall onto her back on the safety of the ledge next to her bowling ball, no longer hassled by anxieties, for the moment.
She really had been scared for a moment that she would lose Tace. She wanted to get back to him more than anything. She might've been mad at him for sending her to the island where everyone died, but she still wanted him to be proud of her. She still wanted to see him again.
"Mr. Santino!" Rena exclaimed with a smile, though the young man surely couldn't see it over the phone, "How are you? Domino mentioned that you'd probably be calling us."
"Did she?" Tacite asked, puzzled at this news. He wasn't sure who Domino was.
"Oh yep," Rena answered happily. "I think whoever gave you our number must have known beforehand and told her so."
"Yes, that would make sense," Mr. Santino murmured, wondering what Celene's game was, doing all this… "Who is Domino?" he asked calmly.
"She's my older sister!" Rena chirped into the phone a bit louder than Tacite would've liked her to. "She pretty much runs things around here."
"Can I talk to her then?" Tacite asked and, having forgotten his manners, added, "Please?"
"Well why?" Rena whined, "What's wrong with talking to me? Everyone always wants to talk to Domino..."
"It's not that, I just wanted to—"
"She's busy, anyway."
"Oh." Mr. Santino thought for a moment before saying, "Do you have any other superiors I can talk to, then?"
"Well, I wouldn't call them that, exactly. I—" There were sounds of shoving and whining on the other side of the phone. Tacite listened intently to the scrabble before a new voice sounded on the other end, this time masculine.
"Hey, can I help you?" the voice asked bluntly.
"Yes… This is Tacite Santino, who am I speaking with, please?"
"Hey! What's up, dude? I'm Hayden. I was in DABR a while back, you know… got tired of the fighting and wanted to judge for a change."
"Makes sense," Tacite agreed, but he wasn't smiling. These 'judges' sounded like a bunch of kids, all of them younger than him… except perhaps Domino, of course. He hadn't talked with her. But was this contest run by children? Getting back to the point, he explained, "I was wondering if I could find out how Carlotta is doing."
"Well, don't you know already?" Hayden asked. "I mean, its being broadcast on national television."
"I don't own one," Tacite stated angrily, wishing the young man would just answer his question.
"Sorry, buddy. That must be rough." Hayden seemed to be distracted for a moment before saying, "Well, our satellites say she's still alive. She must've won her first round. The second round is taking place pretty soon. We'll let you know how she does in that one."
Mr. Santino revealed nothing in his voice except gratitude. "Thank you," he told Hayden, "Enjoy the judging."
"Thanks, man. See ya."
Tacite hung up his phone and turned back to his room feeling refreshed. Carlotta was still alive, he could relax. He knew she could do this and that she would win. That was why he signed her up.
Carlotta walked quietly through the dark labyrinth of the warehouse. She'd entered through the window she'd found on the ledge. Once she got inside she located a small metal staircase that looked like a fire escape leading down to the ground floor. Since then she'd been walking around, searching for her stapler, wherever it might be.
The entire building smelled of damp metal. The ceiling was leaking in some places and many of the sparse windows high up on the walls were cracked or broken, letting occasional breezes filter into the dimly lit building as the wind picked up.
Carlotta rounded a bend, still trying to figure out where all the confiscated materials were hidden. She just hoped for her sake that what she was looking for wasn't in the other warehouse that took up residence on the island.
The atmosphere seemed to change as Carlotta entered a larger room. This one had many piles of junk as well as several things she believed might've been confiscated items. It was much darker here though, so she silently took her flashlight out of the tiny pack she carried. With her bowling ball flail slung over one shoulder and gripped in her right hand, she used her left to shine light from a dim bulb over the piles.
As she walked she waved her flashlight back and forth, searching for a sign as to where her confiscated items might be. Suddenly the beam of light from her torch illuminated a side of a table. She swept the light over it and it revealed many more boxes with names on them.
She looked for one with hers. She bent over the first one, assumedly too much, considering her neck tag started beeping. That must be how they make sure people don't steal others' items, she thought as she backed away from the box meant for someone else.
Towards the end of the table she found her own box. It was labeled Carlotta vs. Aaron: Confiscated Items. Carlotta bowed her head for a moment in silent thought before quickly opening her box with the dagger from her waist; the one she had taken from Aaron.
Inside she found more than she had bargained for: A stapler and an umbrella. "Cool," she said simply in a whisper, "Though I don't think an umbrella's gonna do much damage to an opponent if they've got a gun or something."
She turned from the table, placing the new found items in her pack. Now it was time for her to find a way out. Maybe she could find an easier way out than the way she'd picked before.
Carlotta walked around another pile of junk in the long warehouse room. There were tiny skylights in this room that spotted the high ceiling. They illuminated several areas on the floor but nothing of the towering junkyard that surrounded them. Carlotta was just walking along the edge of a stack of scraps when she heard approaching footsteps.
Damn, who is that? she asked herself as a figure stumbled out of the darkness and into the light of a skylight. Not my opponent, I hope… Carlotta peered out from the side of an overturned chair and several scraps of metal. A strange sight greeted her eyes.
There was an extremely pale boy under the light. He was tall and thin, with long, strangely white hair. Carlotta guessed he had some sort of pigment irregularity. He seemed to either be contemplating or examining something, but as to what Carlotta couldn't tell. He was facing away from her. He probably thought he was alone.
I can't tell if that's my opponent… I don't even know who my opponent IS… Stupidly, Carlotta moved forward an inch, trying to get a better look. She cursed herself as a horribly loud crash echoed around her and through the building. It seemed she had nudged a pole that stuck out of the pile and therefore caused quite a few items to fall cascading from the mountain of junk on her right.
The young man drew out his gun and spun around faster than Carlotta could even think. "Come out now or I start shooting!" he yelled, repressing the fear that was gripping his voice.
Carlotta's thoughts were broken. Go out there and risk it all or run and dodge bullets? It was a tough decision but she didn't have time to waste thought on it. "Okay…" She said it slowly and loudly enough so she was sure the boy would hear it. "I'm coming…" She hesitantly stepped out from her hiding place in the darkness. A pale, dim light illuminated her features so the young man with the gun could see her.
"Drop your weapon," the young man said. He was a bit relieved to find it was only a girl with short-distance weapons. His hand that held the .44 Magnum Colt Anaconda was trembling. He really didn't want to shoot but if this was his opponent that stood before him, he supposed he'd have to.
Carlotta still hadn't given up her weapons. She was breathing erratically as her heart had already begun to quicken its pulse in anticipation. What have I gotten myself into?!
"I said drop your weapon!" the white-haired teen shouted, eyes flashing to her meshed granite sphere as he stepped forward.
Carlotta, with a hesitant shrug, finally dropped her bowling ball flail. She did have her dagger tucked into her belt, and her two confiscated items in her bag, but that wasn't something this pale, young man needed to know.
"Is that all?" the gun-wielder asked with a sudden calm to his voice.
"Yes, that's all I have, some rope and a bowling ball," Carlotta laughed anxiously, "What kind of weapons are those?" She mocked her situation.
"Are you my opponent?" the white-haired boy asked suddenly, as if the question had been the entire point of the exercise. He still held the gun and it still wasn't quite steady in his hand.
"No!" Carlotta answered without hesitation then rethought her answer. "I don't know! They haven't announced who's with whom in the second round, have they?!"
"No, I suppose they haven't," the albino answered. "But that doesn't mean I shouldn't still kill you if I've got the chance. Only one out of thirty-two is going to make it, anyway. I… I don't really want to kill anyone but… everyone's going to die here… even if I don't kill anyone."
His hand was really shaking now.
Carlotta didn't move, thinking she'd be better off trying to talk the young man out of it rather than run away, but her eyes were wide. This might actually be it, she thought. This could actually be the last second of my life and I haven't even—
A metallic click then a sound similar to someone clearing their throat resounded over the island. Carlotta flinched slightly at the sudden noise, perhaps mistaking it for a gunshot. Both teenagers in the warehouse refused to look away from their situation but still listened intently.
"Good morning ladies and gents!" spoke an overtly cheerful voice into what seemed to be a system of loudspeakers. "How are you all this morning? Ready to fight, I hope!" A series of girlish giggles echoed across the island and seemed to mock everyone on it. They didn't stop either. The girl continued laughing maniacally for more than a minute, causing Carlotta to become almost as pale as the albino in front of her. Something was very wrong with that laugh… maybe even more so than the whole fight-to-the-death situation.
"But allow me to introduce myself!" the unnamed voice cheered. "This here is Rena Spade, broadcasting to all of you as the host of Battle Royal! I hope all of you have gotten good and bloody in the past few hours! It sure seems that way from the reports we've been receiving from the satellites tracking your neck tags!"
Carlotta began to ask with panic laced in her voice, "What—"
"Be quiet," the other teen commanded, "She's listing off who died…"
A wave of guilt seemed to cloud Carlotta's mind.
"Males: #5-Ben Saifeld," Rena spoke enthusiastically, reading the names aloud as if the contestants had won a fabulous vacation rather than perished. "#8-Aaron Ways…"
Carlotta suddenly felt nauseous as a thought drove its way into her mind. The only thing worse than the fact that she'd killed a man was that… He might've had a family… and they would've been worried about him… and now he wouldn't even be going back… Carlotta had to fight down tears. She wanted to hear the rest of the announcement.
"#28- Grishner…" The voice faded out, seeming to draw for more breath, before starting up again. You could practically hear the smile on Rena's face as she spoke. "Females: #24- Barbara Kain, #6- Cecelia Nabe," Carlotta's eyes caught the Albino's noticeable flinch as the name was called, "#21- Shizaku Akashi, #30- Sara Flements, #31- Helio Jinsin."
The warehouse was silent for a moment.
The two locked eyes for a long moment after the announcement. Neither of them was smiling. It seemed the same exact thing had just hit their minds with the intensity and impact of a detonated bomb: As survivors, they would both have to kill again.
It wasn't that they hadn't realized this before, but more so that the gravity of the situation had been fully thrust upon them. Most likely within the hour they would be forced to take another's life.
"And now!" Rena Spade's voice, filled to the brim with an almost sadistic excitement, rushed back over the island and into the warehouse. "We begin our second round!"
Shit, Carlotta thought, I hope I'm not really matched up with this guy… then I'd have no hope of talking him out of this 'shooting-me' idea he's got…
It seemed during her thoughts; Carlotta had missed half the match-ups. But Rena Spade continued down her list, "Marz Terran versus Calder Redwell, D3! Seneca Annalucille Marie," Coffee stopped to inhale, the name was so long, "Brandon versus Carlotta Santino, C3! And Skip versus Mark Spatz, E5! That's everybody! Good luck fighting! Remember, creativity is good for ratings!" and then all was quiet.
"Well," Carlotta said quietly, "You don't exactly look like a 'Seneca' to me."
"No, I should hope not," he said. "I'm Calder Redwell. I'm not sure what a 'Marz Terran' would look like…"
"Well, I'm Carlotta," the brunette female said pleasantly. "It's nice to meet you Calder." She stuck out her hand in an amiable fashion, but Calder didn't take it.
"If you're not my opponent, why are you in this square?" he asked calmly.
"I wanted to come to the warehouse to get my confiscated items." She decided to lie, "I haven't had any luck finding them yet."
"You're not my opponent?" Calder still held up his gun.
"No, I'm not. I'm Carlotta."
Calder narrowed his eyes, trying to decide whether or not she was telling the truth. It was hard not to blame him considering what his last opponent had pulled. "Prove it," he ordered.
"I…" Carlotta looked at a loss. Prove it? Then she remembered, "I have a passport on me!"
"Where?"
"In my bag…"
"Get it out. I want to see it," Calder demanded, "And don't do anything stupid. Remember, I'm the one with the gun."
Carlotta frowned as she slipped her pack off her shoulders and began to sift through it. It took her a moment to reclaim her passport from its depths. Curse her and her horrible packing job!
"Come on, hurry up," Calder said, quickly becoming impatient.
"I have it right here," Carlotta shot back. "God, you can't even give me a minute?" She sighed.
Calder stepped forward cautiously towards the young woman who held out a small paper that she claimed to be her passport. He snatched it from her, causing her to yell an indignant "Hey!"
Calder gave her a warning glance: He was calling the shots.
"Just… be careful. Please," Carlotta's voice expressed an anxiety comparable to a mother worrying for her child: The passport was Carlotta's ticket home, that is, unless she didn't win DABR. Then she wouldn't need it.
Calder eyed the girl suspiciously, trying to figure out what kind of game she was playing at. But she really did just seem honestly concerned for the safety of her passport. He decided to take it into consideration. They were all going to die in less than three days anyway. He figured the least he could do was be careful with the passport.
Calder opened the small folder, his hand still loosely holding the grip of the gun.
Carlotta's eyes flashed. His guard is down. Should I…? but her time was up.
"I guess you're not my opponent," he said quietly, indecision riding on his voice. What would he do now? He passed back the passport to Carlotta. She bent down to tuck the paper back inside her bag. At the sound of Calder's gun cocking, she froze.
Carlotta's eyes lifted. Calder's gun bore down upon her.
The albino's hand was shaking but he was definitely aiming to kill.
"Wait!" Carlotta cried.
"What?"
"You said you didn't want to kill anyone!"
"So?"
"So don't!"
Calder looked at Carlotta funny. Not killing people, on this island, was like suicide.
"No, really," Carlotta continued. "Don't let other people force you into doing something you don't want to do!"
"I want to go home," Calder stated, "I have to kill in order to go home."
"No, you don't!" Carlotta said, "You're just playing by their rules. You don't have to. There are always other options."
"Like what?" Calder said, relaxing the grip on his gun.
"We could always band together and fight back… or escape. Escaping would be better…"
"You're just saying that so I don't shoot you," Calder assumed.
"Well, is it working?" Carlotta asked.
"A little," Calder said. "It would be nice to not have to kill people just in order to make it off this island."
"Yeah, so don't shoot me!" Carlotta stated. "You'd be wasting your bullets anyway. I don't even know if we're allowed to kill contestants we aren't assigned to. And you'll need that ammo for other fights."
Calder thought about what she said. It did make sense, but… who was to say whether or not anyone he trusted on this island wouldn't stab him in the back the second they got the chance? Perhaps even literally! The last time he'd let his guard down, he'd almost been killed.
Well then, he just wouldn't let his guard down. "So what did you have in mind for this daring escape of yours?" he asked her.
"Well, I—" There was a noise from the other side of the room. Someone was coming. "We'll talk later!" Carlotta said quickly, "I'm sure we'll meet again, hopefully not in combat." She turned to head off in the direction of the footsteps.
"Wait," Calder said quietly, trying not to be heard by the other person across the room, "What if one of us dies between now and then?"
"Then…" Carlotta wasn't sure, and just answered, "The other one will just have to survive."
Calder nodded, "Hopefully."
Carlotta smiled at the irony, the escape plan was probably impossible, but it had filled her with a hope that wasn't as easily doubtable.
She picked up her bowling ball from the ground. With a smile and a salute in Calder's direction, she turned off towards the area she'd heard footsteps less than a minute ago.
Calder turned off in the opposite direction, clearly wanting to go find his opponent.
Carlotta smiled. "He seemed nice," she said quietly to herself, "Especially for some paranoid gun-waving albino."
She walked quickly around the bend, looking for whoever had come close to completely interrupting her and Calder's chat. It didn't take her long to find the little redhead with pigtails milling about with her teddy bear. She wasn't exactly hard to spot.
Carlotta snuck up around the junk piles, more silent that a shadow and a hundred times as deadly. She wasn't sure exactly what she was going to do. She couldn't tell for sure whether the girl in front of her was her opponent or not, but she was in C3. She figured a surprise attack would be best in any situation.
So Carlotta crept up, one hand on the knife in her belt, the other holding the rope of her bowling ball flail. She wouldn't have been hard to spot either, but the little redhead didn't have eyes in the back of her head, so she didn't see the older teen sneaking up on her.
Carlotta was only a half-pace away from the girl when she heard a loud, muffled cry come from in front of her. Carlotta tried to step back into the shadows but it was too late. The little girl had already turned around and ruined the element of surprise.
But the second Carlotta saw the little girl's eyes, she reconsidered the whole plan. She was just a little girl… what kind of person would she be if she killed a little girl? But that was before Carlotta noticed the AK-47 in the little girl's hands.
Gunshots were fired in the distance.
The little girl squeaked in alarm.
I wonder who that was? Someone must've just died, Carlotta worried, hopefully not Calder.
Suddenly the little girl with the teddy in her arms spoke up, "Are you going to shoot yourself, too?" she asked quietly.
Carlotta raised her eyebrows, "No, I'm not, why?"
"The…" It was then that Carlotta noticed the little girl was crying. "The first man I was supposed to fight… he shot himself… because he didn't want to kill me."
Carlotta wasn't sure what to say. "He sounds like a nice guy. What's your name?" she asked the little girl.
"I'm Seneca Annalucille Marie Brandon, but I normally go by just Seni."
Carlotta nodded, "My name is Lotty," she responded.
"So you are my opponent?" Seni asked.
Carlotta looked upset, but not as upset as the little girl who stood crying next to her, "Yes, I am your opponent."
"Are you going to kill me?" Seni questioned, suddenly scared.
Carlotta hesitated, "I… I don't know. We're supposed to fight. I figure you've got a better chance than me with that big gun of yours."
"I didn't want it," Seni said. "Rockabye made me bring it."
Carlotta cocked her head, "Who's Rockabye?"
"Rockabye is my teddy bear," Seni answered. "He tells me what the smart thing to do is. Because, he says, the smart thing isn't always the right thing. And I'm more likely to do the right thing. So he tells me when I should change what I'm doing."
"That's… interesting," Carlotta answered. "He talks to you?" To Carlotta's astonishment, the bear began to crudely mumble while gesturing wildly about. After a few moments he fell back to a limp state in Seni's arms. "What did he say?" Carlotta asked.
"Oh, he just said I should get on with it and murder you already."
"That's not funny…" Carlotta wasn't sure why the teddy bear could talk, let alone plot killings.
"I know it's not: Killing people is never funny."
"You don't have to kill anyone," Carlotta said.
"Really?" Seni asked with hope in her eyes, "But what about the contest?"
"Don't worry about the contest," Carlotta replied. "It doesn't matter. We can escape!"
By now, Rockabye was trembling and talking in his muffled voice as fast and loud as a madman. "Oh, that's nonsense, Rockabye," Seni said, waving him off. "It's okay. You've got to learn to trust people!" But Rockabye didn't stop. "I'd like to escape from here," Seni said hopefully, over Rockabye's cries, "Will you take me with you?"
Carlotta nodded with a smile on her face. "Of course I will," she announced.
Dorothy's eyes lit up. "Thank you!" she cried. Her AK-47 fell to the floor and she jumped at Carlotta to give her a tight hug.
And Carlotta saw this as the perfect opportunity to strike. She didn't want to, really she didn't. But she couldn't see any other way out of it at this point.
One of Carlotta's arms wrapped itself around the little girl to hug her back. Carlotta's other hand dipped to where her dagger lay at her belt. Faster than Seni could react, Carlotta drove the slim blade of the dagger quick and fast into the little girl's abdomen.
Seni cried out in shock, and again when Carlotta pulled out the blade and inserted it into the small of her back. In the two swift moves, Seni was incapacitated. She fell to the ground bleeding by her fallen AK-47 and Rockabye let out a scream. This time it wasn't muffled.
The sound of Rockabye's shattering screams shook the entire warehouse even as Carlotta delivered a final blow to Seni's heart. For some instinctual reason, she thought killing Seni would've shut up her screaming teddy bear. But the screams only grew louder.
Carlotta turned to the bear, "Don't make me slice you in half, too!" she yelled, trying to overpower his horrendous screaming. But suddenly the bear was silent. It stood on its own and looked up at her as if it was reading her soul, but it didn't make a sound.
And then something happened that made Carlotta almost wish it hadn't stopped screaming. The teddy bear, Rockabye, grew and expanded. Its stitching should have burst, but it never did. The bear grew until it was taller than Carlotta. Then it started to melt. The bear's feature's softened. Its waistline shrunk and its face grew more human-like. The great, plush limbs turned to what could've been mistaken as human flesh and blood.
Finally a young man stood before Carlotta wearing a brown suit, the same color as Rockabye had been. The bear had taken on an exact replication appearance of Tacite Santino, the reason why was unknown to Carlotta.
Her mouth was agape at the bear-turned-human. What was this, some kind of nightmare? Had she never woken up that morning?
The brown-suited Tace walked hesitantly towards Carlotta, who began to panic. "Get away from me!" she yelled. "You're not what you look like! I mean… You're not real!" But the replica kept stepping forward.
Carlotta didn't think. She only did what was instinctual to her. As the Tace-replica reached towards her, she slashed out at his fingers, slicing ribbons off them. She backed up, hyperventilating. This wasn't good at all…
The man in the brown suit examined his fingers. They were cut but they didn't bleed. Instead, ash-colored sand began to pour from them. A breeze Carlotta didn't feel swept them away on the wind and the Tace in front of her blew away, grain by grain.
"Tace!" Carlotta screamed. It was too much. She fell to the floor, crying, surrounded by Seneca's corpse and a deflated-looking Rockabye who lay still and silent on the ground.
She touched a hand to Seni's forehead and softly closed the girl's lifeless eyes. She cried, "I'm sorry you couldn't escape…"
AN: Review please!