Carl cursed to himself and scanned the street. The busy street was unusually empty, as it always was when a match started. Putting a hand in his jacket pocket, he whirled around to see… nothing behind him. Spinning in a circle slowly, he checked his surroundings again. Nothing moved in the darkened alleys, and there was no one else in the empty street.
“2 minutes, 30 seconds remaining,” the robotic voice announced.
Taking a step forward, Carl pulled the laser pistol from his pocket and readied it. Creeping forward, he scanned the street to the front and sides. Working hard to keep his breathing steady, he peeked into the closest alley and examined the toppled trash cans spilling their contents into the street.
“2 minutes remaining,” another update rang out. Then, Carl was hit from behind.
Stumbling forward, Carl gritted his teeth and spun to face his attacker. The assailant swung a pipe at his side; Carl was able to step back out of the way but cried out when the pipe smacked his hand and sent his gun skidding under a dumpster.
Tripping, Carl caught himself on a rusty trash can and threw himself at the shadowy figure with the pipe raised to strike again. They collided and wrestled over the pipe, which Carl managed to dislodge from his opponents grasp before getting hit in the face and staggering backwards.
Unable to regain his bearings, Carl retreated deeper into the alley; however, he only made it a few wobbly steps before getting dragged to the ground. Slumping in front of an overflowing dumpster, Carl raised one hand to protect himself as a fist came down at him from above. The beating continued as Carls vision blurred and the taste of blood filled his mouth.
Until a flash of red light erupted from beneath the dumpster and the man on top of Carl howled in pain. Pulling his other hand from beneath the dumpster, Carl shoved his laser gun in his assailants chest and squeezed the trigger. A familiar crackling nose filled the air as the other man slumped to the ground.
“One minute remaining,” a robotic voice called out. “Challenger terminated."
Suddenly, Carl was back on the busy street. Crowds of people rushed past him, bumping into his back and shoulders as he put a hand to his head. Shouting, honking and other street noises felt like they were being beaten into his ears amid a splitting headache.
Falling to a knee, Carl assessed himself. He was no longer bleeding, but the pain from the ordeal remained. The back of his neck had a burning sensation from a sub-dermal implant at the base of his neck that had been installed 2 weeks ago and was over heating.
“Get outta the road!” Someone shouted at Carl as he struggled to his feet.
Neon signs and flashing lights forced him to close his eyes as he stumbled forward into an alley. Rancid meat and urine hit his nostrils, causing him to vomit. However, he found himself feeing better without his breakfast.
Looking around to gain his bearings, Carl staggered towards the central police office. Someone screamed behind him, but he was too tired to look back. With a grunt, he was able to push his way through the crowd several blocks to work.
“Good morning, Carl,” a large man squatting behind a desk near the front door called when Carl pushed his way inside the central police office. “Henry wants to see you, I think.”
“What?” Carl asked, shaking his head.
“You know—Henry—from homicide.”
“Oh, right, where?”
“He sits next to Brenda,” the large man sighed, turning back to his projected computer screen.
“Yeah thanks…” Carl muttered to himself and lumbered to his desk. Collapsing in his chair, he buried his face in his hands and sighed.
“There you are,” a gruff voice called out. “You look like hell… are you okay?”
Turning, Carl peeked through his fingers to see a tall slender man with graying brown hair standing behind his desk. “I’m great, Henry…” Carl lied. “Heard you were looking for me.”
“Yeah, can we talk for a minute?”
“Sure, what do you need?”
“Not here,” Henry said, looking over his shoulder. “Let’s grab a room.” He turned and led the way into an interrogation room across a narrow hallway.
Carl shuffled after him and sighed, “am I being interrogated now?”
“We are just talking,” Henry corrected, sitting in a metal chair and placing a folder on the lone table in the room. “Just noticed some interesting facts in a case I wanted your opinion on.”
Glancing at the one way mirror Carl knew always had at least one officer on the far side of, he took the seat across the table from Henry. “Go ahead and tell he how I can help.”
“Of course, I have pictures here of 5 missing people…” Henry spread the photographs on the table. They all were different sizes and styles: among them were a wallet sized photo of a kid who might have been a year or two out of school, a large black and white picture of a woman with broad shoulders at a weight lifting competition and a standard sized picture of a thin middle-aged man with curly brown hair that was clearly ripped out of a picture frame. “Recognize any of them?”
Looking over the photos, only one looked familiar. Heart pounding, Carl forced himself to tear his eyes away from the middle-aged man with curly hair. He had seen the life go out of those eyes just moments earlier in the alley brawl that was still making his head pulse. “What happened to them?” Carl asked, looking back at Henry.
“Who did you recognize?”
“I don’t know any of them,” Carl could honestly reply.
“You’ve never seen even one of these six people?” Henry asked again.
“Why are you asking me?”
Henry thought for a moment, then explained, “All 6 of these people seem to have one thing in common—being close to you when they were last seen. We just want to know if you have seen anything that helps us find them.”
“Come on, Henry,” Carl groaned. “Homicide doesn’t investigate missing people: we have an entire department that does that.”
“Fine,” Henry spat, glaring at Carl. “These 6 people all died within a city block of you in the last 2 weeks. Give me a reason that makes sense.”
“How did they die?”
“If I tell you, will you tell me what you know about them?” Henry paused and Carl nodded his head slowly, causing his headache to worsen, as if his brain was rattling loose in his skull. “All of them had a non-registered sub-dermal implant at the base of their neck that exploded.”
“I don’t know any of them, but I think I walked past this guy on my way to work,” Carl admitted, pointing to the picture of the man he blasted in an alley that morning. “I didn’t know he died, but I might have some idea about the implant.”
“Good enough for me,” Henry acknowledged with a smug smile. Immediately, 3 uniformed officers rushed into the room and restrained Carl. “You are under arrest for the murder of Abe Walkman.”
Resisting was pointless, Carl winced just trying to stay on his feet. He locked eyes with Henry as one of the officers patted him down and took his standard issue laser pistol. “I didn’t kill him,” Carl pleaded. “Let me actually help you.”
Just as Henry opened his mouth to respond, the power cut out. In the small dark room, a loud robotic voice from the sky boomed, “3 minutes remaining…”
Before he could look around, something smashed Carl’s head. Stumbling into the chair and flipping over it, Carl rolled to the far corner of the room. Finally able to look up, he saw a flashlight click on.
The largest and roundest of the three officers arresting him walked towards him carrying his laser pistol. “You have no idea what you got yourself into, Carl,” he chuckled.
“Wasn’t my choice…” Carl mumbles. “You can put that down though, Doug, no one has to die.”
“Someone does, or we both have something like 2 minutes left. It’s not personal, but I’m going to win this game and retire early on Prometheus Corporation’s dime.”
As if to emphasize Doug’s point, the robotic voice boomed, “2 minutes, 30 seconds remaining…”
“What did Prometheus offer the winner? Where did you hear about this game?” Carl probed.
“Sorry,” Doug laughed. “None of that really matters for you…”
He pulled the trigger, and there was a loud crackling sound. Doug’s knees locked as he crumpled to the ground. Skidding across the ground, Carl’s laser pistol stopped at his foot as the robotic voice again sounded, “2 minutes remaining…”
With a grunt, Carl managed to slowly lean forward and grab the gun. He laughed dryly and said, “You know they just put a DNA trigger lock on all the detectives side arms… use your own next time.” Carl’s whole body ached as he stood up.
“1 minute, 30 seconds remaining…” the robotic voice said as Carl finally got to his feet, aimed, and pulled the trigger.
Screaming, Carl found himself back in the arms of three police officers. His neck and back were in searing pain. Two of the officers shot concerned looks at each other as Doug fell over. They loosened their grip and let Carl fall to his knees in pain as a loud pop echoed in the small room.
Doug’s neck exploded, spraying blood on the mirror, table, floor, ceiling, and officers. Shocked, Henry and the two uniform officers stared at Doug for a moment before slowly lifting their gaze to Carl, who was holding his neck with both hands and howling in pain. Carl couldn’t hear them when they finally tried to speak to him; eventually, his vision blurred as he blacked out.
Carl jolted awake, pulling at the handcuffs that chained him to a hospital bed in a bare white room. He felt much better as he looked around. The throbbing in his head and nausea were gone, and the chip in his neck was no longer burning. However, he was hooked up to an IV and had no memory of where he was or how he got there.
“Are you okay?” A familiar voice asked.
Turning revealed that Henry was standing in the lone doorway on the opposite wall from a large window. “Better than I was at my arrest,” Carl scoffed.
“You are the only connection between all of the victims… including Doug…”
“And you still think I killed them all?” Carl held up his arm that was chained to the bed to emphasize his point.
Henry sighed and walked to the edge of the bed. “It still looks bad. Can you give me an answer that makes more sense?”
Thinking for a moment, Carl nodded slowly. He looked around the room quickly to make sure they were alone and whispered, “The implants are some sort of virtual fighting simulator. The winner wakes up, and apparently, the loser doesn’t.”
“Like a virtual reality game?” Henry mused.
“Exactly. I didn’t know people were dying, but Doug seemed to know more…”
“What did he say?” Henry leaned in and furrowed his brow.
“He said the name of a company, ‘Prometheus,’”Carl hissed, and the power immediately went out.
Light filtered in from the window, but the room was otherwise dark. Carl was alone in his hospital bed without the IV, handcuffs or Henry. Then, a loud robotic voice from the sky said, “3 minutes remaining…”
Jumping out of the bed, Carl rushed to the door. It was locked. Horrified, he scanned the room for his combatant, but there wasn’t anyone else. “2 minutes, 30 seconds remaining…” the voice boomed.
Unable to think of anything else, Carl turned to the window, opened it and took a deep breath
