Arabella felt the pain leave her body. Like a ghost.

She was numb.

She was a ruthless killing machine.

Who was going to die.

It was no use, being kind.

She saw that now.

She was good as dead anyways.

She didn’t want to win. She didn't want to win the fame that came with this battle. This was only a game, they promised!

They lied.

“Do it quick,” she told Charlie, her best friend. They had entered together, wanting something new in life.

Charlie nodded, face unreadable.

“ARABELLA VS. CHARLIE! 3, 2, 1, BATTLE BEGIN!”

It was silent.

Nobody moved.

You could hear a pin drop.

Then Charlie advanced.

Held the gun.

But…not to her.

Not to Arabella.

To her head.

“No, Charlie no!”

Pain wrinkled in Arabella’s forehead. Horror laced in her words. Fear is hidden deep inside.

And…

Horribly…

Triumph.

She could win.

She could live.

Charlie would die.

Her loss.

She would win.

Alive.

With Tyler…

Then reality hit her.

Charlie was going to die.

And so.

She aimed the gun.

At her forehead.

“If we’re going down, we’re going down together.”