Battle Royale - Four

Battle Royale – Four

[July 6 – 11:59 P.M.]


"Twinkle, twinkle little stttaaar, how I wonder what you aaare~! Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the skyyyyy! Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what youuuu aaarrre!"

Shilo sat atop one of the many trees in the forest, singing loudly and staring up at the clearing sky. He swung his legs back and forth in rhythm of the song as he attempted to count the infinite stars that hung above him. As soon as he counted to fifty, he'd stop and turn his attention to another cluster of stars and count those, starting at one again.

That could have been considered an extremely peaceful scene in a not-so peaceful situation. Considering the circumstances, however, it was far from peaceful. But having to kill each other? Naw, forget it. Shilo was above that; eh wouldn't kill anyone or be killed. He knew the people he lived with, the ones forced to play in the sick game, and was positive that they would somehow team up and kill that fat man that called himself host.

Shilo was so sure of this, that he left the ugly gray backpack that contained the few things that would keep him alive-a decent sized chainsaw, three bottles of Dasani water, three bags of trail mix, and a very small first aid kit-sitting on a thick branch a few feet below him. He wouldn't need it unless he got hungry, and he wasn't hungry in the slightest.

Nor was he scared, not at all. Nope, he only jumped at the leaves rustling because it was dark out, and the dark made everything scarier. And…and he only yelped at the wind because it was scary, too.

And he only screamed when the branch he was sitting on gave into his weight, sending the 15-year-old descending several feet, hitting every branch and limb on the way down. Finally, he managed to grasp another stronger branch and pull himself on to it, extremely shaken and extremely bruised, cut, and beaten.

Shilo brought a quivering hand to his face, wincing as he poked the bleeding gash just below his right eye. T-That was close, he thought, thankful the branch didn't hit any higher. After examining the numerous cuts and scrapes on his arms, he looked back up at the stars, slowly beginning to relax on the sturdy branch. Everything else seemed to relax too; the wind, the leaves, even the crickets that had been chirping quietly, oblivious to the happenings in their own home.

Soon, Shilo could feel sleep starting to take over, lulled by the silent melody echoing throughout the forest. He trusted them. He trusted the people he lived with. They would let him sleep; let him replace the nightmare with sweet dreams of his own. He trusted them.

As soon as Shilo dozed off, a crunching noise beneath the tree where Shilo rested snapped him back to the reality that was the "game." In a half-asleep panic, the young boy stood up and, after nearly falling a second time, scaled the tree the short distance to his possessions.

Trust momentarily forgotten, it was safe to say that he was absolutely terrified. Slowly, Shilo climbed back down the tree until he reached the last branch strong enough to support his weight, located just a few feet above the ground.

There was definitely someone there, a smallish figure pacing back and forth. They were obviously waiting for him, but for what? Maybe they wanted to team up, which was exactly what Shilo wanted. But what if they didn't? What if they were looking for a kill?

Chainsaw in hand, Shilo hooked the backpack on a branch and hopped out of his hiding place without a sound. He quickly ran to the other side of the tree and, with one quick flip of a switch, the machine whirred to life; it felt ten times heavier.

Cautiously, Shilo crept out from around the tree where he was the person now standing still, frozen. They had definitely heard him, heard the chainsaw, but they couldn't even move.

Perfect. No! Only perfect because now I can talk to them, get them to team up with me. We could get the others too!

He left the chainsaw running and convinced himself that he needed to carry it, just in case the person decided to attack. "Hello!" he called over the steady hum of the chainsaw. The shadow jumped and turned slightly. Shilo took a few more steps forward. "I was thinkin', maybe we could be, uh, battle buddies! Y'know, help each other-"

The shadow of a person was gone.

Okay, bad idea. The person, whoever they were, didn't want any help and he couldn't really blame them. Trust was a very dangerous thing in the game.

As soon as Shilo turned to walk back toward his belongings, he felt something whiz past his face and strike his arm, slashing it deep. Before Shilo could even think to scream, he, eyes widened in terror, whipped around to face the source of the slash. Rather than being greeted with another cut to the arm or, God forbid, one to the face, he was met with the sound of ripping flesh, the chain saw stuttering and jerking violently, and the horrible crunching noise that accompanied it.

It didn't take the blood on Shilo's face and arms, the crumpled body at his feet, or the sound of the chainsaw still whirring for him to realize what had just happened in a matter of a few scarring seconds; his first kill.

His first kill, and it was an accident.

His first kill, and it was someone he knew.

Trembling, Shilo silenced the murder weapon and carefully sat it on the ground. He then shakily took a few heavy steps to the body and squinted in the dark. The features of the mangled, decapitated corpse were difficult to make out in the dark, but the characteristics Shilo did manage to see were far too familiar, sickeningly familiar.

The green and black shirt, the machete Shilo had seen him run out of the "school" with…these were the remains of none other than Shura.

Shura. He was dead. He killed Shura. There was no coming back, no way he could. Murderer.

As these words resounded through Shilo's mind, he found his eyes wandering to the gray backpack lying near the spot where Shura's head was supposed to be. After glancing at the chainsaw, he walked over to the bag and snatched it off the blood-stained ground, zipping open the dirtied thing and examining its insides; four bottles of water, some bandages, and rubbing alcohol.

With a slight grin, Shilo grabbed the clear liquid and bandages, tossed the bag aside, and started toward the chainsaw, leaving the body where it laid.

His first kill, and it came with a prize.


Remaining Contestants: 22