• The commentator’s voice echoed in the empty hall. In front of Marii was an archway. A bright glow came from it. She shuddered to think of her two choices in that arena.
    “AAAAAAND, OUR NEWEST FIGHTER!! MAAAAAARIIIIIII LAAAAAAAAW!!”
    That was it, her ‘cue’. Sighing she ran out through the archway. Blinking in the brightness of the sun she looked around. She hadn’t been out in sunlight at all since being brought here, after school. She wished then that she had known what that call from her father meant…
    Marii picked up her cell phone,
    “Hello? Dad? What is it; I need to get on the bus…”
    “Szzhhhh…Sweetie, I need you to pick some milk up for me before you come home today. Your mother needs it for bread pudding, for dinner tonight.”
    “Um, I thought Mom hated bread pudding…Dad? Are you there?”
    “Szzhhhh…Yes, I know, but she’s trying a new recipe.”
    “Well, Alright.”
    She put away her phone and headed for the public bus stop.
    Marii saw her opponent, a small boy, maybe 10. He was facing her for a reason. They needed her to kill someone, so that she could get used to it, so they had given her someone easy. She either had to kill this child, or be killed by him.
    She stepped off the bus to her home, she saw a white van parked out front. She didn’t think anything of it. In one hand she carried a small carton of milk. She’d gotten whole, she hoped that was what was needed for the recipe. She tried to open her front door only to find it locked. Not altogether unusual. She headed around back and dug the key out from under the mat. Walking to the front she opened the door. She walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and put the milk in. She walked up to her room, and started on her homework. Minutes after she got home, the doorbell rang. She stood up and went to the door, opening it to find two men in Men in Black outfits,
    “My parents aren’t home right now, would you like to come back later, or should I give you their numbers?”
    They smiled and pulled her out of her home.
    She circled the small boy, and he faced her the entire time. Taking a deep breath, she pulled hard on his arm, and yanked him to the ground. She put her knees on his hips, and her hands on his elbows,
    “I’ll try and make this painless.”
    She whispered to him. She held his head in her hands and yanked it to the left sharply, she stopped after a rather violent crack echoed throughout the roman style arena.
    She screamed and tried to fight them, but strangely nobody came out to help her. It was then that the thought occurred to her that maybe her father had been trying to warn her. Maybe her neighbors had been warned from intervening. She thought only those two thoughts before a soaked rag was pressed over her mouth. Every time she tried to gulp air, the wet rag kept it out. She saw the edges of her vision going fuzzy, and her adrenaline surged. She fought back with one good kick before she passed out.
    She stood up and stepped away from the now dead child. Seeing the escorts coming she looked them in the eye,
    “I will never kill again. So you might as well kill me now.”
    They just grinned and pulled her back into the hallway. This time though, they didn’t take her to her room. They took her to what looked like a torture chamber, and chained her to the wall. A rather burly man came in and began slowly looking over the instruments lying on a counter.
    She woke up in a dark room, where a voice, she couldn’t see where from, told her all about the arena and her choices. She debated this for a while before being asked,
    “Have you decided, Miss Law?”
    And her forced answer,
    “Yes, I’ll Fight.”
    Her screams could be hear throughout the local rooms and hallways as the torturer made her think differently about ‘quitting’.