Taking a step back, I looked at my family trying to hold on to this moment for as long as they would let me. Memorizing each of their faces to tuck away for later.
“Contestants, please step through the gates!” A woman in a top hat and black fitted corset to match spoke through a long brass amplifier, her voice sounding shrill but commanding.
“Wait,” I uttered, trying to find Theo in the sea of faces. His promise to meet me here before I was to be taken in rings hollow as I come up empty. He didn’t show.
“Waiting for someone?” a deep timbered voice called from behind me, making my skin erupt in a sea of goosebumps.
I turned my head to see who it was coming from and caught the wild, dark-haired contestant smirking at me. His piercingblue eyes held a shimmer of danger, like he could watch someone bleed out and enjoy it.
Scoffing, I turned my attention back to the crowd, wondering if Theo was just late, even though he was usually on time for everything.
“I don’t think he’s coming.”
“What makes you think I’m looking for a man?” I asked, whipping around, my irritation getting the better of me. My nerves were frayed, and I was in no mood to deal with an arrogant prick. He had an accent that would suggest he came from across the strait. London perhaps. That was curious. For a brief moment, I wondered what his story was.
Instead of answering me, though, he just stared at me as if he could see every thought and feeling I’ve ever had. Those icy blue eyes stared straight into my soul. I wanted to ask him what his problem was, but my tongue couldn’t seem to form the words.
“Step through the gates!” The woman with the amplifier called again, this time with more force. The guards took a step towards me, and I took the hint, turning my attention away from him.
“This is it. I love you,” I said to my family trying to sound braver than I felt as they enveloped me in one final group hug. I shoved down my disappointment about Theo not showing up and reckoned it might be better this way— especially with how he acted yesterday. Unshed tears threatened to spill onto my cheeks, but I held them off by sheer will alone, not wanting my family to see me defeated.
“You got this!” Marley said, squeezing my arm.
A guard ripped me out of their embrace and shoved me forward. My feet tripped over themselves as I walked past the threshold. The guard kept shoving me in the back with the butt of his gun.
“I’m going!” I responded, hands up in surrender.
The contestants all began to file into the large, cavernous space as the cheers come to a deafening roar. This was it. There’s no going back now. No running— just acceptance of the inevitable. Fuck, my stomach was alight with nerves. I felt like I might blow chunks at any moment.
The immediate temperature dip was a stark shock to my system as we passed into the tunnels. Out in the sun, I felt as if I were being baked alive, but in the open mouth of the catacomb’s entrance, the temperature plummeted quickly while a musty smell hung about the air. I couldn’t hear the sounds of the crowd anymore as we were escorted deeper into the arched tunnels. Bones were stacked in intricate designs from floor to ceiling. A red neon glow began to emanate making the bones appear ominous and evil. There was an eerie swell of music that reverberated off the walls to a chilling crescendo. I stayed close to the middle of the tunnel, not wanting to accidentally bump into the wall of bones, knowing full well that they belonged to real corpses. A homage to those who walked these very same tunnels years before us.
One of the girls a few feet ahead of me had her head bowed in what looked like a prayer, her dirty blonde hair was a curtain around her face, but I could clearly hear her sniffling. At least I wasn’t the only one scared as hell to be here. The dark-haired guy was a few feet in front of her, walking with a swagger that looked like he owned the place. Insufferable, I thought, rolling my eyes. Arrogance like that would only get you killed in a place like this.
The tunnel came to an end, spilling out into a large two-story rotunda. But right before we passed through, a plaque of black and gold was stationed right above our heads with the words, ‘C’est ici l'empire de la mort!’ Etched into it.
Roughly translated the sign said, ‘Stop! This is the empire of the dead.’ A chilling reminder of whose domain we would be intruding upon.
But the contestants, myself included, continued to walk right past the sign and into the den of the gods.
Chapter 4
Odessa
The rotunda was a spacious room with a large, vaulted ceiling and a glowing red rose chandelier hanging from the center illuminating the space in a sinister, crimson light. The red beaming light was a stark reminder of all the blood spilled in this place. The gods were stationed a level above us dressed up in their finery, milling about with drinks in their hands and laughter on their lips, their faces covered by golden masks. We were nothing more than this year’s entertainment to them. A passing thrill. They loved to see mortals play with a drop of their power, fighting amongst each other for a chance to cling to it. Disgust churned deep in my chest at the unfairness of it all. I was more than just some disposable mortal, and I was determined to prove it.
The energy in the room was a mix between nerves and excitement. It was clear which contestants were chomping at the bit to compete, and which ones were wishing they’d never been summoned. Seeing their faces flickering in the red light filled me with dread. So many faces, all people with a life. Maybe loved ones back home just like me. How am I supposed to kill any of them? The concept seemed inconceivable, but if I wanted to make it home to my family, I might not have a choice. My kneesquivered knowing that they’re probably thinking the same about me.
A loud crackling boom of a microphone attempting to connect to the speakers ripped through the vaulted entombed area, making everyone cover their ears simultaneously. The music cut out suddenly and my spine straightened on instinct.
“Sorry, sorry,” a short statured lion uttered into the mic from above. His scraggly mane was beaming in the red tinted light and his large snout twitched as he stood looking down at us. Talking magical animals were usually only found in the first arrondissement, coveted for their unique talents and hints of magick ability. Animals that were non-speaking were used to perform services , or as pets to those that could afford such a luxury. I’d never been in the presence of such a creature and felt a bit awestruck.
“Now, in just a few minutes, you will be escorted to your rooms one at a time, where you will inhabit until the start of the games. You will have the opportunity to train with your teams, or on your own. This will give you time to acclimate to your new powers. Remember, you can only accommodate a new mask, and subsequently its power, by killing the wearer.” A few of us shifted uncomfortably at the reminder. “There is to be no foul play or fraternization with your fellow contestants while during the training period. Which means you keep your hands to yourselves. No sleeping together and no killing one another. Once the games begin, then all bets are off, and you are free to interact as you see fit. Anyone found guilty of breaking these rules will be subject to forfeit the games and sentenced to a lifetime of servitude to the gods.”
I swallowed hard, glancing around the room. Across from me stared the guy from earlier, his smirk firmly in place as he stared directly at me. I glanced away quickly, not wanting to alreadyhave been making an enemy. Why was he so fixated on me anyways?
“Please come forward when your name is called and choose your mask.”
A procession of women clad in black fabric wrappings with harsh cut outs showing pieces of their skin with their faces obscured by the sheer fabric walked in. Each were holding a plush velvet pillow dipped in crimson with a golden mask affixed to it. The women circled the room once, then twice showing off the masks, tilting them to the contestants. You could almost feel the power pulsating off them as they passed by. My eyes snagged on the one representing the healer’s magick – The Mender. I licked my lips nervously. So much was hanging on this one moment. My own survival depended on making the right choice. If I chose wrong, it could mean signing over my soul to the god of death himself.
