There was a frantic knock at his door. Sawyer grinned. He was wondering how long after he sent the email until his sniveling underlings would protest. “Come in.”

“Sir, there must be some mistake here. How did they even get registered?”

It was Phillips. He’d begun speaking before he’d even walked into the room. The kid had passion - Sawyer had to give him that much. A few more years working for the government was sure to fix that. But for now, Sawyer had to pretend they were on the same side. Phillips was still rambling.

“Aren’t there exemptions for this sort of thing? How-“

Sawyer cut him off. When you’re going for an Oscar-worthy performance, you don’t let yourself be upstaged.

“I know, I know. I don’t know how it happened. But it did.” Sawyer was rubbing his temples as if he dreaded the shitstorm that was inevitably coming towards them.

“But sir, surely we could… call a mulligan? This choice…”

“Was randomly selected. The computer picked it, and the selection is locked. You remember what happened when Gomez rigged it to protect his kid.”

That ordeal had been truly miserable. It brought several lawsuits and culminated with any and all employees with children being transferred to other departments.

“This… is going to be terrible,” Phillips said.

“It is.” It’s going to be perfect, Sawyer thought.

It had been a few weeks now since he’d been approached by the prominent businessman William Schubacher in the parking garage outside his agency. He was briefly terror-stricken. Death threats were relatively common in his field of work, but never had anyone had the balls to confront him in person. His fear, though, faded quickly when Mr. Schubacher explained that he wanted revenge, but not against Sawyer. He had big plans and a bigger wallet. So Sawyer, soon-to-retire and disillusioned, was more than happy to cooperate.

Schubacher’s plan was immensely clever yet surprisingly simple. The idea was to rig the selection process so that something so absurd was chosen that the American people would finally realize the program is barbaric and needs to be stopped. The execution was easy enough since Sawyer was of high enough clearance and competence to tamper with the computer program.

And so it came to pass that the next batch of participants in the Battle Royale program were to be drawn from the Junior year class of the Highland Park High School for the Disabled.

Bernard had been shocked to hear their class was going on a trip to Disney World. Just the expense alone of transporting so many crippled and otherwise disabled kids would be obscene, let alone the manpower needed to take care of them all. But, Highland Park was a private school filled with kids of rich parents; parents who desperately want their children to feel like they can have normal lives. So it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that someone forked over the cash to make it happen.

It was a warm day April morning when they loaded up onto the several specialized buses. Bernard rolled onto the motorized platform with his forearm crutches laid in his lap, and waited for the platform to raise up. He was decent at walking but he got tired easily and the steps onto the bus would be too difficult for him. When he got up into the bus he was pleased to see it was mostly his group of friends on there with him. It made sense to have most of the functional but wheeled students on the same bus, and it worked out for him since the Roll Patrol would be able to hang out without being bothered by any of the veggies or other annoying kids.

He joined his friend Buck, an incredibly fat but incredibly nice guy, who was practically bouncing with joy and anticipation.

“This is going to be so much fun!” Buck turned his head to face him, and suddenly spoke much more softly. “Hey Flynn, do you think that when we ride the rides, that you can get Amy to sit next to me?”

Bernard sighed. He used to hate when people called him Flynn, and he still did, but he knew Buck didn’t mean to offend. Freshman year he’d gotten into a fight with a sophomore and called them a pussy. Something about the delivery, or maybe just his disease, had made the guy laugh and say, “Whatever, Flynn!” People laughed, and it stuck from there. Bernard had gone home and looked up the reference, and was offended by the connection. I don’t even eat breakfast! Eventually he learned to just accept it, but it still irked him. He refused to watch Breaking Bad out of spite.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he replied with a wink. He didn’t understand what the big deal about Amy was, but all the guys in his group of friends seemed to be after her. Which would’ve been okay, but she never seemed to be interested in anybody but Bernard. It was complicated.

Finally, everyone was loaded into the buses and they were off. Bernard and his friends settled in and begun playing cards.

About an hour later, Bernard was trying to read Ramona’s face to she if she was lying about her two 6’s when he heard the driver’s walkie talkie go off. He glanced up and made eye contact with Mr. Navarro but paid no further mind. “B.S.” Unfortunately, she wasn’t lying, and he got royally screwed with a pile of cards.

Suddenly he felt really strange. It became hard to think and his head felt like it was filled with sand. He tried to call for help but as he looked up at the rear view mirror again, he didn’t see Mr. Navarro’s brown eyes. He saw a gas mask.

What the fuck… His vision went black.

——

He awoke to the sound of a gunshot and several screams. He scanned his surroundings quickly and realized that he was in some sort of old, dilapidated classroom. It was unusually hot and humid, and it looked like nature had begun reclaiming it. His classmates were spread around the room, most of them looking terrified or crying. Some still hadn’t woken up yet. At the front of the classroom was a large, angry looking man in a camo uniform, with several armed guards behind him. Bernard also saw a cameraman, which seemed odd for about three seconds until he put the pieces together.

“You have got to be kidding me..” he muttered. But sure enough, hanging down across the chalkboard was a familiar banner he’d seen year after year on the TV.



Bernard reached his hand up to his neck and was dismayed but not surprised to feel a metal collar attached to him.

“Listen up, fucktards!” he recognized the camo-man now. It was ‘Sarge,’ the asshole who initiated the participants into the program every year. “You all have been selected to participate in the Battle Royale program, as I’m sure those of you with functioning brains have already figured out. I’m sure you know how it works, but I’m required by law to inform you anyway. Luckily, we have a film to show you, so I don’t have to waste my breath on you corpses.”

Before the movie was even playing, Bernard knew what it would be. A cheery asian girl explained to them that for ‘military research purposes,’ a class of high schoolers from a random school were selected to have a fight to the death. The last person alive would be the winner, and would get to return to their home. Each player would receive a pack of supplies including food, water, a compass and map of the location they’d been brought to, and a random weapon or tool. There would be a week long time limit, and the sections of the map they’d have access to would slowly dwindle so that people would be forced to move around and encounter one another. Next came the list of things you could do that would result in your death. If you tried to remove your collar, it would detonate and you would die. If you tried to remain in an off-limits area of the map, your collar would detonate and you would die. If more than one person was left alive at the end of a week or if you tried to escape the island, your collar would detonate and you would die. She finished by wishing them the best of luck and reminding them that the entire program was being recorded so they should be on their best behavior.

Bernard felt sick to his stomach, but he couldn’t help but laugh. Why would they pick Highland Park? What cruel bastard decided these kids needed to suffer more than they already did in their daily lives? Sarge was yelling again.

“Time to head out! When I call your name, come retrieve your pack and get the fuck out of my sight.”

As the first few names were called, Bernard took the opportunity to try and talk to his friends. He needed to meet up with them or else none of them would have any chance of surviving. Unfortunately….

“BOY #02. FLYNN BOWES” His fists clenched at the misnomer, but he managed to call out “I’ll wait for you guys!” before rolling himself to the front. He stared up at Sarge and to give his most intimidating look. Sarge just kicked him in the shin and told him to keep rolling. Bernard grabbed his bag and headed out of the classroom. He looked inside to see what he got and was relieved and scared at the same time.

“Well… At least I won’t be defenseless,” he said aloud, as he pulled out the gun.

Brittany's silenced gun?

Sarah was tired. She was always tired. Narcolepsy was a bitch. In addition to being tired all the time, she also had the pleasure of sometimes losing her muscle control whenever she laughed really hard or got really scared. She’d feel a slight tingle and then just find herself crumpling. It was terrible. The doctors called it cataplexy. Sarah called it torture.

And then there were the dreams. Sarah had dreams so vivid she had trouble differentiating them from real life. Most were incredibly mundane, but they still caused her problems. Many a time she’d dream her mother asking her to do something, only to be annoyed or confused when Sarah complied with it while conscious. One time she’d returned from the grocery store with several dozen eggs and jumbo jars of mustard and mayo only to find that her family wasn’t actually hosting a “deviled egg party.” Often, Sarah would dream that she got a phone call saying that school was canceled that day, so she simply didn’t show up. Those accidents, along with the general tiredness and cataplexy, had led Sarah’s parents to enroll her in Highland Park, where she’d be able to get better care.

Usually her dreams weren’t as ridiculous as the one she found herself in now. After her name was called, she grabbed her bag and headed out the door with a shrug. Is this even America..? It was tropical, and felt like a rainforest. Huge trees towered over her. Humidity and weird bird calls filled the air. There were no buildings near the school, but she decided to follow the dirt road until she found something else of note, not wanting to go into the jungle if possible. Bugs weren’t really her thing. She took a look at her map.



She figured if she headed towards Dante’s Town, she’d be able to find a bed to relax in for a little while. It was so odd; she wasn’t usually so tired in her dreams. With her baseball bat in one hand and her map in the other, she headed down the road which she hoped went west.

After a while she found the little village she was looking for. The buildings looked abandoned but the doors were all unlocked, so she picked a house that had a nice looking bed, and made herself at home. Her drooping eyelids got the best of her and pretty soon she was asleep, which despite sounding pretty Inceptionesque, wasn’t that rare for her.

She dreamed of home. She dreamed that her sister and niece were over to visit, and they were putting a Disney princess puzzle together.



A loud creak of a footstep on a wooden floorboard woke her up. She sat up then got out of bed, her trusty metal bat clutched in her hands. She practiced her breathing to make sure she didn’t get frightened enough to trigger the cataplexy.

“Hello…?” she called out timidly.

A head poked into the doorway of her room. Sarah exhaled, relieved.

“Oh, hey Becca! You had me worried for a second.” Becca had been one of the first people to be nice to Sarah when she transferred to HPHS last year. She was missing an arm and had some sort of weird skin condition Sarah had never asked about. She helped Sarah learn the ropes a bit when she’d just arrived and couldn’t even find her classroom. They never became close friends, but Sarah had always appreciated the kind gesture.

But right now Becca didn’t look too hospitable. In her single hand was a switchblade and she was eying Sarah like she was a snack.

“Sorry girl, but I need to get out of here alive,” Becca said coldly, lunging towards Sarah. Sarah tried to block her attack but felt the sting of her forearm being sliced open. Apart from the obvious, that was a huge issue. Sarah’s eyes widened as she felt pain. She never felt pain in dreams. As panic surged through her body, so too did the familiar tingles of torture. No! She’d only have a few more seconds before she lost control of her body altogether.

Becca was going in for another stab, oblivious to Sarah’s sudden epiphany. Sarah put all the effort she could into lifting the bat to her shoulder, and swung as hard as she could. The sound it made as it caved Becca’s skull in was horrifying. The bat fell from Sarah’s hands as she tumbled to the ground, almost in tandem with Becca. As the cataplexy kicked in, Sarah’s vision blurred.

This is real.

Both girls lay on the floor of the bedroom, blood beginning to pool.

Spoiler	+
Girl #08 Rebecca DEAD

Marnie was used to being the last in line. She’d just come to accept that she’d have to wait the longest to get standardized test results, or that she’d be the last person to walk the stage at graduation after sitting through the speeches delivered by some paralympian medalist or brainiac on wheels. Everyone would cheer for her, but only because it meant the ceremony would finally be over.

Usually being last meant she had to stew in anxiety the longest. For the first time in her life, Marnie was grateful to be a Zywicki. Being able to sit in the corner and have time to process what was going on was critical for her. Pretty quickly she realized that she was going to have to kill people to stay alive. And since she was going to stay alive, that’s what she was going to do. So as the Braxtons and the Johnsons and the Roberts were called and left, Marnie Zywicki stayed behind and planned.

I’m not evil, she told herself, when her name was finally called. I need to kill to survive. So it’s basically self defense, right?

She got up and retrieved her pack, which she slung over her shoulder. When the guard pulled out her “weapon” from behind the desk, she sighed. She took the riot shield in her hand, and turned around to face the classroom. Though she was the last name called, she wasn’t the last student to leave the classroom. Scattered throughout the room in wheelchairs or simply draped on the floor were the members of the Cabbage Patch.


When Kevin Fincher’s name was called and no one went up to get their supplies, there was an awkward silence. The guard called it again, louder. The room was silent with the exception of Joey’s vocal tic, “Mmuhhh, mmuhhhh.”

When the guard got angry, Marnie had to explain that Kevin wasn’t going to be able to carry his bag, let alone retrieve it. Kevin was usually under continuous care from one of Highland Park’s several nurses and wasn’t really functional. For some kids, Highland Park was basically a day care. The nurses made sure they were fed and comfortable, and did their best to keep them happy, but there wasn’t really any schooling to be taught. That group of kids had their own classroom, and for the most part people ignored them.

The guard had shrugged and just tossed Kevin’s supplies in his general direction. The pattern continued for each of the vegetables in the cabbage patch. No response, Marnie would point the kid out, and the bag was thrown at them. By the time it was her turn, there were five sets of weapons and supplies next to five oblivious invalids. Joey was still moaning. “Mmmmmuh, mmmmuhhhhh.”

She approached a girl whose name she didn’t know and pulled the bowie knife from its holster. Marnie glanced back at the guards. One looked amused with a hint of disbelief. The other… Marnie quickly looked away, angry and ashamed at his look of condemnation.

“You can’t judge me, it wasn’t me who sentenced them to death.” She said, coldly. The guard gave a small shrug.

The girl was making a light gurgling noise. She sat, strapped into her wheelchair at her chest and forehead. It looked like there was a constant trickle of saliva dripping from the side of her mouth.

If not self defense, this has got to be mercy. If I leave them here, they’ll starve to death or be killed by the collars.

Marnie inhaled slowly.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and slit the girl’s throat.

She moved to each of the other three kids and quietly took their lives, picking up a grenade and a length of rope. She decided to leave the fork she found behind. Finally she got to Joey.

“Mmmmuhh. Mmuhhh.”

Marnie held back tears. “I’m sorry, Joey.” She pulled out the knife again.

Joey’s eyes widened. “Mmuhhh!! MMMUHHHH!!!”

But then the steel was at his throat, and its bite was red and cold. Marnie lifted his bag from the ground to see the weapon underneath and had to laugh at the absurdity of it.

“How’s a girl with one arm supposed to use a bow and arrows?”

Leos was going to going to have a fun day. He didn’t understand why everyone in the classroom was crying and freaking out when they could just be having fun instead! He left the school and saw the most magical thing! A SLIDE! Leos loved slides! He set his bag down by the slide and climbed up. He had lots of fun sliding down the slide over and over again until he got tired. Then he decided he needed to rest. He thought about where he should do that.

“I know!” said Leos, “I’ll go to the beach! That’s a fun place and I bet there will be hotties!” He took out his map and decided the closest beach was probably to the west, at Dante’s Beach. Leos hoped Dante was a cool guy. He picked up his weapon and bag and started skipping west.

Leos began to sing. “Hashtag hashtag exit west, doo-dah, doo-dah! Hashtag hashtag exit west, oh doo-dah day!”


Leos finally arrived at the beach a bit out of breath from all that slide-climbing and skipping. The ocean was beautiful and blue, and Leos immediately jumped in. After splashing around for a while, Leos decided it was time to relax on the beach. He lay there and relaxed even when he heard some loud noises coming from the woods. Soon enough, two people emerged from the woods he came from.

“Babes?” Leos wondered. He got a closer look and was excited to see that one was a babe. She was helping a guy walk who seemed injured, since he was holding his side and seemed to be bleeding.

“Help us!” the girl called out as they walked slowly towards him. He sighed and got up.

“What happened?” She had really pretty hair. He hoped she wasn’t dating the other guy.

“Those fuckers in wheelchairs attacked us, and shot Henry! We barely got away!”

Henry. The guy’s name was Henry? Upon further inspection, the wounded guy smelled faintly of an art teacher’s office. Leos grew suspicious.

“Do you have any medicine with you? Any bandages, drugs?” The pretty girl seemed desperate to help ‘Henry.’ Leos wasn’t happy about that. HAAAARRUUMPH!

“No, I learned long ago not to endorse things like that,” Leos replied. “Are you two dating?”

Henry’s head cocked to the side as if he wasn’t sure he heard correctly. The girl responded. “What? No. Will you help me lay him down?”

Leos became a little happier. “Sure.” This wasn’t a very fun way to spend his very fun day. “What’s your name?”

She looked at him. “I’m Sophia.”

She’s perfect, he thought.

“You’re perfect. I’m Leos.”

“Thanks, I guess. Okay Leos, I’m going to check that beach house for anything to wrap his wound up in. Can you keep an eye on him for me?”

Henry didn’t look too pleased with that idea but didn’t voice any objection.

“Sure thing. Stay safe, Sophia!” Leos sat down next to Henry while Sophia ran towards the nearby house. “So, Henry.” Leos glared at the guy. “You seem like a devious guy. Are you trying to get with Sophia?”

Henry furrowed his brow a bit at Leos before shaking his head no. Leos wasn’t sure if he believed him. Leos wanted Sophia, needed her. Henry was in the way.

“That’s good,” he said, reaching into his bag. “Hashtag… Hashtag…. Use hatchet on Henry,” Leos sang as he swung his weapon down towards Henry’s neck. Henry tried to roll away but wasn’t quick enough, and the axe hacked into his neck. He died quickly. Leos wiped off his hands, picked up his bag, and started moving toward the house.

“Sophia!” he screamed. “Henry just attacked me!!” With Henry gone and Sophia here, this was shaping up to be a very fun day indeed.

FUN DAY