Hour 1: Twin Veils – Ignorance
It was a cold night on the island of Caphraig, as Richard Diallo was just discovering. Stepping outside the classroom, he took a few nervous steps forward and turned back briefly. Several armed men just inside the doorway ensured there was no return. He didn't want to go back there, anyway, not with the body of Zoey Volta staring at everybody.
He was the first to leave the classroom - that meant he was all alone out here. It also meant, though, that he had a head start on everyone else. Yes, that had to be taken advantage of. He didn't believe himself capable of killing anyone. He was easygoing, a joker who didn't take life nearly as seriously as his twin brother, Layne. But other people might be willing to kill, and since nobody else had the chance he did to avoid all that, it was time to run. So run he did, not knowing where, not caring where. There would be a time and a place to figure out how he was going to approach the situation; outside the classroom, moments before he was joined by who knew who else, was not it.
Back inside the classroom, Peter Morgan announced that a minute or two would be allowed to pass between each student's exit. With the constantly clicking machine guns held by the intimidating group of soldiers at the front of the class suppressing the common desire to scream, many of the students were either struggling to hold back the tears, failing to do so, or else eying each other nervously. Moments later, Morgan silently drew a name from the second hat on the desk.
"Female student number one, Rozelinda Mayfair."
Emotionless as ever, Roz took one last look around the class as she moved to collect her bag. It was impossible to know what she was thinking a lot of the time, and even this was no exception. Saying nothing, she calmly exited the class.
Morgan felt relieved that the first two students had left without incident. He had successfully put the fear of God into his now former charges, but the understandably distressed looks on their faces was difficult to bear. The closest he would get to peace during the next three days was, he felt, in the minutes (perhaps hours) between the last of the students leaving and the killing beginning. Until then, he just had to endure.
"Male student number two - Kevin Hetfield."
As Kevin stood up, Shanae Preston gripped his hand tightly. "Kevin, I love-" she tried to say.
"Don't. Anything you say to me will only sound like goodbye," he interrupted, unclasping her hand from his own. Collecting his bag, he turned back to face her before leaving the class, adding, "Shanae - I love you too."
As the school door slammed behind him, Kevin found himself in more light than was safe right now due to a couple of floodlights shining onto the playground. He wasn't sure whether he was in a good position by leaving early, meaning there weren't as many immediate threats about, or if he wanted to leave later and so make it easier to find allies. Seconds later he was gone, reasoning that either way he had nothing to gain by remaining where he was.
A few moments later, Elyse Backman felt her heart rate increase exponentially as she heard her name announced as female student number two. Breathing fast and heavily, she stumbled quickly to her feet, nearly falling over twice in the process. "This can't be real this can't be real!" The rotting corpse of her friend just metres away from her indicated otherwise. She skittered to the front of the class almost as if she were on roller-skates, nervously eyeing up her classmates. Her only hesitation in leaving the school was to hold her glance on Morgan for a few seconds, as if he might tell her that this was all a sick joke and that the holiday was going ahead as planned. No such luck. He merely stared back at her with cold and emotionless eyes. She couldn't see he was fighting desperately to force himself to do this; to her and many others, it was as simple as him betraying them all. And he knew it.
Elyse took her bag and silently sprinted down the corridor as fast as she could. She needed a plan, and she needed one fast. Dazzled momentarily by the unexpected light in the playground, she hurried around the corner to see what was in her bag. Time was short - the next student wouldn't be far behind.
Back inside, male student number three was Manuel Noles, and like Elyse, he was visibly terrified about what was to come. Beside him, Alyssa Davids clearly wanted him not to have to go. He was a studious guy who couldn't hurt a fly; how did someone like him belong in this situation? Truth be told, almost nobody belonged here, but especially not Manuel.
Manuel edged his way slowly towards the door, nearly collapsing under the weight of his pack. He forlornly repeated again to Morgan, "But I can't kill anyone!"
"Nobody's forcing you to. But you won't be able to go home unless you do, so I'm afraid you're going to have to try if you want to live." There was a hint of sadness in his voice. Manuel felt his heart drop like a ten-tonne weight as his last hope of reprieve disappeared. Turning towards the door, he knew what he had to do. Run. Run straight through it and not stop, maybe ever if that was what it took.
Taking a deep breath, he charged as a soldier at the other end of the corridor opened the door. A bright white light shone into the school doorway. It was almost the last thing Manuel Noles ever saw.
Instinctively falling forward to the floor as he crossed the doorway, a flash of black light flew past his eyes. He barely had time to register what it was or who held it, but it looked large and heavy. Sharp panic took him as he dodged a second swing of the unwieldy weapon. Lacking time to try and find somewhere to hide outside the school, he saw no alternative to trying to get back in.
Picking himself up, he tried the bar across the door. "Locked. I can't get back in! What now?" He banged against the door a few times, desperate for it to open. It did not. Instead time froze for a moment as Manuel's life flashed before his eyes. Moving to Scotland. His mother dying of cancer when he was 12, inspiring him to become a doctor. The long nights spent studying for his dream. The reward of a place in Glasgow University's medical school. And relaxing by watching films with his friends. Those were good times; if only he could return to them again.
It was then that the right side of Manuel's face exploded as the next swing of his assailant's weapon at last connected with its target. It felt warm for a fraction of a second as he died, never knowing what exactly happened to him.
As flesh, blood, bone, and what little remained of Manuel's right eyeball scattered across the doorframe, he collapsed to the floor. Lodged in his skull was a large spiked ball, attached to a chain held by Elyse. Having to put a foot on his body to remove the weapon, part of what remained of his face collapsed inwards as she did so, with crunching and squelching indicating that bits of brain were now sliding gently across the floor. Elyse was shaking but otherwise rooted to the floor, her blood-soaked implement lightly swaying in front of her.
Moments earlier, she had moved quickly to find out what weapon she had been given. Whatever it was, it was bulky and heavy; that was probably a good thing. Her eyes lit up as she saw her prize - a full-sized spiked ball and chain. Hurriedly removing the thick foam packaging, she felt the weight of the weapon in her hands. It felt kinda good, actually.
So this was a competition, yeah? A "game," that was what they called it. Well, if there was one thing Elyse Backman did well, it was competitions. Losing…no, that couldn't be allowed to happen. You lose here, you die! You win - you live, you go free. Highest stakes ever, and only one winner. She had to move fast, though; while she doubted everyone would have what it took to be a serious threat, there were certainly some out there who would.
So she stood in front of the school, getting good speed and power in the spiked ball and chain, ready to end the challenge of whoever came out next. Her first reaction was sorrow for having done it, but there were two more significant factors: first, she could have killed a friend, which she really wanted to avoid at first; second, Manuel was a nice, quiet, studious boy, and you always had to beware the nice ones. They were the ones who could go unexpectedly crazy on you whenever.
Regaining her senses a little, she stumbled back, sliding on a pool of blood. She was still staring at the corpse when she finally released her emotions with a deafeningly loud scream that could be heard from the classroom. She had to escape before someone saw her. She'd be exposed on the reports as the killer, but that was 6 hours away, so there was plenty of time to run away and plan her next move. "Ugh, Manuel's bag's even heavier than mine!" Fortunately, she had an innate capacity to give herself an adrenaline boost just when she needed it, so she was able to muster the strength to haul both bags over her shoulder as she lumbered off as fast as she could manage. "Never look back, never think twice. Can't lose - wanna live. Can't lose - wanna live. Can't lose! Wanna live." She repeated the words to herself over and over again. Elyse left behind the first casualty of the Program itself, Manuel's blood now covering the whole of the doorway in crimson red.
In the classroom, Elyse's scream was muffled, but still audible. Everyone knew instantly who it was, since it was female and definitely not Roz's voice. Stevenson whispered in the ear of a soldier, who ran out of the classroom. He returned quickly, said something to Stevenson, who then spoke to Morgan.
"I feel obligated to remind you at this point that the Program has already begun; the instant you leave this room, you are a part of it," he said with a sigh. Everyone else drew back with gasps of horror; several started to cry, if they weren't doing so already. That was Elyse screaming, but was she a victim or had she attacked somebody else? For it to be loud enough to be heard in here, it had to be serious, whatever it was. Morgan didn't look like he was about to say what happened. Instead, he pulled out the next name.
Newly designated female student number three Hannah Bishop gathered herself to her feet while staring with conflicted sullenness at Morgan. Elyse was her polar opposite, so she couldn't care less what happened to her; Hannah was anti-social and apathetic, in stark contrast to the bubbly and competitive Elyse. It was the prospect of her having attacked someone that bothered her. Manuel Noles left between the two, and he was one of Hannah's few friends. Thinking about it like that, she really hoped she was going to see Elyse writhing in pain as she left.
That was not the case, however. On seeing Manuel's mutilated body, his face ripped to shreds by…God only knew what…she surprised herself by shrieking loudly. It looked like someone had already slipped on his blood, actually. Elyse, presumably? Small wonder she screamed on seeing that. But was she the one to attack Manuel, or was it someone else? No time to think that over. Since she typically hadn't the first clue as to what she was going to do to survive, Hannah thought it best to start running for now, in case the attacker returned. "Two down, 44 to go. I wonder who's next…"
Morgan sighed deeply to himself as he drew the next name from the hat. "Male student number four - Adam Lewis." He'd desperately wanted him to leave after most of the class had gone, in case he decided to fire a parting shot. Adam was still mumbling incoherently to himself, his eyes locked on Morgan, as he slowly rose to his feet. As he did so, he seemed to whisper something into Kim Magdalene's ear.
"Look for me in the wide forest, hiding by a hollow tree." There seemed to be lament in his voice. Kim tried to ask what he meant but he ignored her, returning his gaze to Morgan. Morgan repeated.
"Male student number four - Adam. Lewis!"
He turned to face the class, scanning them as if looking for something. Support? He clearly had very little anymore. Moving towards Zoey's body, he looked broken and sad more than angry. He knelt down beside her, causing Charlie O'Keefe to jump up and push him away.
"Get away from her! She's dead because of you, haven't you done enough?" Guns aimed at Charlie, Morgan raised a hand and they lowered. It didn't look as though any argument was about to start. Adam closed her eyes, and spoke to her, appearing also to be replying to Charlie.
"She looks so peaceful lying there, in her field of paper flowers. All the cares of the world no longer matter to this one. She's the lucky one, you know; her pain has ended. Ours has just begun!"
"If you don't back off, I'll give you some pain," said Charlie angrily, putting himself between Adam and Zoey. He was unfazed.
"Don't worry, I'll be drowning in flame soon enough. For now, though, she is my sin - and that of all of us. You'd better sit down before you get in trouble." As Charlie sat down, not knowing what to think, saddened bewilderment crossed the faces of many of the other students. Adam had always been a bit…strange. But he seemed to have gone completely mad. Perhaps Zoey's death had hit him harder than he realised, though the possibility that he was faking this to make him seem less of a threat to people did exist. It was hard to put anything past anyone in this situation. Morgan had been patient a moment but that was fading fast.
"Adam, get a move on!"
Moving quickly towards the front of the class, the sadness in his eyes turned to anger.
"You'll live to regret this, Peter Morgan, you mark my words. The Legacy of the Anti-Clique will be sealed with the kiss of a blade! Remember those words, every single one of you! Time to face destiny - I'll see you on the other side!" With that, Stevenson hurled a bag at him, nearly flooring him. He smiled at the class sarcastically, saluted them and left.
Charging down the corridor, Adam leapt over Manuel's body, screaming "You fucking bastards!" at the top of his voice as he did so. Leaving before being shot by the understandably annoyed soldiers, he found himself alone outside. He was hoping that the cool air would have some sort of effect on him, but nothing happened. He put a hand to his temple.
"What's happening? What's happening to me? Oh, God." He was talking to himself, but didn't care. He seemed to recall what he'd said to Morgan, as if he wasn't even consciously aware in the classroom. "The Legacy of the Anti-Clique…that's what I gotta do, right? Seal it, for everyone." He shook his head. "No…Holly, Holly is the one, she is the way she is the light she is the cure." Several thoughts running around his mind, Adam ran off into the night as quickly as he could.
With Adam now gone, Morgan was relieved to see the next several students all leave without incident. Charlotte Turner just looked vacant, and George Ryan's poker face masked his insecurity while Laurinda Davies merely looked sullen as ever. Andrew Cruddas showed much more confidence, as opposed to the terrified Sadie Willis and Jake Wilson. Thus female students four to six, and male students five to seven, entered the Program.
It was in stark contrast to the pacifistic leanings of Sadie and Jake that the seventh female student instructed to enter the Program, Jenna Widdowson, smiled as she heard her name. She had never been a great fan of her classmates, the two sitting beside her being the only exceptions. Well, Adam and Mark Johnson could be tolerated on rare occasions, but that was it. And they, along with everyone else, were expendable. The only people who mattered anymore were herself, Jemi Britcher, and Rem Remnant. They knew to find her when their numbers were called, and as soon as they did, the Trio would win the Program. What would happen once everyone else was dead was unclear, but that was irrelevant for now.
Giving her friends one last hug goodbye, she donned a sadistic smile as she stood up and moved to the front of the class. It was almost as if she was in slow motion, the way she got a good look at everyone, making sure they knew what awaited them outside the classroom.
Outside, her spirits were in no way dampened when she saw what she'd been given - a katana. A noble weapon, and a potent one. Okay, so it wasn't a gun, which she presumed would be in a couple of the bags, but for a silent takedown, it was hard to do better than this. They would never see her coming. Clutching the blade close, Jenna skulked off into the night, awaiting her first victim.
Back in the classroom, Morgan found himself once again pensive as he revealed the next name. "Male student number eight - Scott Irving." Another of the Anti-Clique, and he actually beat Adam to the punch in criticising him. Scott remained still a moment, unsure of what to do.
"Scott, get a move on, please," said Morgan, calmly but firmly. Scott seemed more stable right now than Adam had, and that made him more threatening. He suddenly leapt to his feet and walked straight up to Morgan himself.
"As Adam said, 'sir,' the Legacy of the Anti-Clique will be sealed with the kiss of a blade. I hope you remember those words."
"Do you know what they even mean?" Normally, it was tantamount to suicide to take on the Anti-Clique like this. Today, though, Morgan had literal firepower on his side, and simply could not lose. Scott was unfazed, however.
"Is that really something you want to call us out on? This isn't you, you know. You're a better man than this-" Morgan cut him off.
"There's more to this than you know, Scott, and I'm not going to stand here and debate it with you. Goodbye," he said, throwing him his bag. Scott left without protesting further. Morgan was relieved he'd been as calm as he was, and knew that if he were looking for a way of releasing pent-up emotion, then it would be another student who would fall victim.
Sullenly leaving the class, Scott looked on in horror at the remains of Manuel and wasted no time in checking his bag outside. His frown became a begrudging smile, however, when he saw what looked like a small rocket launcher. Holding up one of the grenades that it fired, in case anyone in the area saw him an opportune target, he hurried off to look for Adam. Without any better ideas right now, discussing this "Legacy of the Anti-Clique" with his best friend seemed the right way to go. He didn't know what Adam meant by it, but he certainly wanted to find out.
As he moved, he was unaware that his defence shield had actually worked, as Jenna lurked in the bushes nearby. There was no way she was going to take on Scott right now, far too risky. Perhaps the next girl to leave would be a better target?
That next girl turned out to be none other than her best friend, Jemi. The new female student number eight regretted having to leave Rem behind, but at least she was right behind Jenna. People had looked on in fear as Jenna left, as she was the most intimidating of the Trio. That was not to suggest, however, that Jemi came across as cute and cuddly; nor did she want to, for that matter.
Jemi exuded an air of confident relish as she strolled towards the exit. Creating the right impression on everyone else was key; creating fear in others now would make things easier later on. The guy who appeared to be in charge of the soldiers looked pleased with her, as though he could already tell she was going to participate.
Seconds after stepping outside, she heard a voice call out her name. She knew instantly who it was. 'So she waited for me,' she thought to herself with a smile. Venturing closer to where she thought it came from, a shadowy figure suddenly leapt out at her, throwing her backwards.
"Ha ha ha, gave you a fright, did I?" Jenna looked extremely pleased with herself for that. "You know you shouldn't explore while unarmed, someone dangerous might find you."
"If you'd given me a chance to look in my bag, I might have done that by now!"
"Well, hurry up, then, we don't have all day!" Jenna said in a mockingly hurried voice. She was admiring her katana in front of an impressed Jemi, who was less pleased with her own weapon.
"A…long metal tube. Okay?"
"What's that button on there?" Pointing the open end away from her, Jemi pressed the button that Jenna had noticed and suddenly became a lot happier. A sharp spike had just emerged, clearly with power enough to cause a serious puncture wound in anyone getting in its way.
"I think I quite like this, Jenna!" There was something sadistic about Jemi's voice. "With my spike and your sword, we'll need to go for a stealth approach, but that shouldn't be a problem."
"Yeah, we'll definitely need to do that. Scott came out just before you, and he got a fucking rocket launcher in his pack!" Jemi's eyes grew wider, hoping this was some kind of joke. The look of envious regret on Jenna's face suggested otherwise.
"Christ. Well, we can't exactly be stealthy here. Let's see if Rem comes out next, otherwise we'll just have to find him later." Jemi didn't want to say that; she hated the idea of abandoning a friend. But they had to look after themselves first, as Jenna reluctantly agreed, careful to stay silent in the darkness.
As Jenna and Jemi were talking, male student number nine, Josue Flores, was being ordered to leave. He did so without incident, calmly making his way outside. In his bag was a Walther PPK pistol. He'd never used a gun before and didn't think he wanted to either, but he realised he might not have a choice. What a thought. Thinking he heard something, he raised the gun in front of him defensively. Apparently it was nothing though, so looking around warily, he crept off into the shadows.
Nearby, the two girls looked at each other with exasperation, their weapons seeming so much less practical than they had done just a couple of minutes earlier. Realising there was no value in staying, they too disappeared without trace.
Their absence left the area surrounding the school in peace once again, peace which was undisturbed by the next few students to leave. Female student numbers nine and ten, Valerie Wolfe and Sandra Jackson, were fairly meek and could only think of finding their friends as soon as they could. In contrast, male student numbers ten and eleven were thinking in terms they would consider much more pragmatic. Peter Lucianus and Darren Cooper both recognised the value of patience however, and were not for creating a scene in circumstances they could not control. With a similar attitude being held by the eleventh female student, Tash Checketts, the students' exit now seemed almost rhythmic.
"Next to leave is male student number twelve, Layne Diallo."
Layne was Richard's twin brother and the more serious-minded of the pair. Richard was carefree and a joker; Layne tended towards neuroticism. This was a potential problem in circumstances as intense as these, and he knew it. He needed to be in control of a situation to be comfortable in it, and Morgan and the soldiers had made abundantly clear who was in control. He edged cautiously towards the door, terrified of what lay beyond. The sight of Manuel made him feel sick, so he hurried past him.
Creeping away from the school, he wondered how far Richard had travelled in the past hour. Perhaps he was still fairly near, maybe waiting on him? That would be nice. He really wished he could see Richard right now.
Back in the classroom as the clock hit 1am, Morgan noted that half the students had now entered Battle Royale Caledonia. They covered a mixture of pacifists and sociopaths, those who might participate, and those who definitely would not. Indeed, it was clear that at least one had already started the killing. For those still waiting for their number to be called, the next few minutes stood to be very nerve-wracking indeed…