His brain wouldn't shut up for once. It was thinking a million thoughts at once.
'How the hell did I get here? What's happening? When did everything go so wrong in his life? Is he going to die...here'
Ben had previously wanted to end it all. Sure. But not like this. It was supposed to be quiet and painless. Maybe some pills and a long sleep would do the trick.
Not by getting torn apart by a freaking werewolf in front of an arena full of monsters.
And he'd just watched someone die. Someone who saved him. Dathan. And now that same monster was about to give him the exact same fate.
"Damnit," he cursed under his breath.
He hated this. All of it. Especially the fact that he was dangling like a piece of meat in this thing's han.....
Boom!
The sound was so loud it shook the ground beneath them. The werewolf's grip loosened slightly. Its head snapped upward.
Ben gasped, sucking in air. Everyone in the arena stopped what they were doing. Swords froze mid-swing and claws paused mid-strike. Every single person looked up and gasped.
There was a figure floating above the arena. She looked old, petit and thin. Her skin was dark green and wrinkled like old leather left out in the sun for too long.
Her nose was long and crooked at the tip and she had a short white hair that was flowing in the wind when infact, they was no wind.
And she was hovering above them on a broomstick. Ben's mouth fell open. He was a hundred percent sure that this was a witch.
She smiled down at them all, arms spread out as wide as it could. Her voice rang out across the arena. And surprisingly, Ben could hear her every words perfectly. Like she was speaking with a microphone.
"Welcome, welcome. Dear participants, Citizens of Eryndor and viewers from across the Seven Realms," she crooned. "I must say, this year's Blood Reaping has been exceptional so far. So much passion and so much... creativity. I'm intrigued."
She paused, tilting her head as if listening to something only she could hear.
"And, I'm absolutely delighted to inform you that thirty-seven of our beloved participants are already out before the commencement of the main event."
There was a beat of silence. Then she chuckled. "By 'out,' of course, I mean 'dead,' hahaha" she let out a horrifying high pitched laughter to her own joke.
Ben wanted to puke. The way she said it so casually made him want to rip his clothes off and run away screaming in the opposite direction. It was terrifying.
Maybe if he just kept running, he'd wake up. Maybe this was all some horrible, alcohol-induced nightmare. But the werewolf's claws digging into his shirt told him otherwise.
The witch raised her hands dramatically, and the sky above them shifted. The red brightness was replaced by a sickly green glow. Seconds later, the entire sky had changed to colour green.
"Now then," she continued, her grin widening. "It's time to reveal the main event of our beloved Blood Reaping Contest."
She snapped her fingers. And immediately, the sky rained. But it wasn't water. It was something else; metal items clicking and clanking together as they fell. It was weapons of all kinds. And then, in the midst of them were things that glittered like stars.
More than a hundred of them began falling from the green-lit sky, spinning lazily as they descended. Swords, axes, spears, daggers, clubs. All of them glowing faintly, suspended in mid-air.
The things Ben saw that were glittering like stars as it rained down, were beams of light. Dozens of them. Ben noticed that they were streaking toward specific people in the arena.
Ben watched, wide-eyed, as one of the beams slammed into a man-like creature with horns a few feet away.
The man screamed as Ben noticed his entire body lit up from the inside. His veins glowed strangely and his eyes turned white. Then, just as suddenly, the light faded. The man stood there, panting and staring at his hands.
"Yes, yes!" the witch cheered, clapping her hands together. "The sign (referring to the lights), my dear participants, signify the awakening of your abilities."
She continued. "Those of you who are ripe and have the potential will now unlock the powers buried deep within your bloodlines."
She gestured to the floating weapons.
"And for those of you without such potentials..." She giggled sarcastically. "Well, you'll have to make do with these. Haha. Good luck!"
Her tone was that of mockery that Ben rolled his eyes. Of course even in 'this' world, they was still partiality and injustice.
"Good luck," she echoed again. "You're going to need it," she added a wink. "Most of you will die anyway. Don't get your hopes up."
Ben's heart was hammering in his chest. This was insane. The witch too a look down at the arena one more time, her smile stretching impossibly wide.
"Ladies and gentlemen, creatures of all realms," She spread her arms. "Let the main stage of the Annual Blood Reaping Contest...Begin!"
The moment she made that statement, everything shifted. The walls around the arena shimmered, and then they were no longer alone. Like a vile was pulled off Ben's eyes and he saw it. Thousands of faces all around the arena. Crowds of creatures and monsters.
There were of every shape and size that Ben couldn't even recognize most of them. They were all cheering, roaring and screaming with excitement.
They hadn't been there before or he just wasn't looking. They filled every seat. They were the spectators. 'This was for entertainment?' Ben thought. 'Damn!'
He was really going to d....
Ping!
The sound of his system cut through the mental chaos going on in his head. The grey translucent screen appeared in front of his face.
Ben stole a quick glance. His mouth opened. "What!"
He felt his heart sink into his butt. "What the fuck?" was all he could muster as he stared at the words that had appeared slowly. One at a time. It read:
< Ben Scott >
< I'm sorry for bringing you into this >
< You're going to die >