Victorious?

    "Excuse me miss, would you like some help with that?" I stared at the boy irritably. I'm sure he meant well and all, but I had very little time for some misguided boy scout. "Do I look like I need your help?" I spat. He swallowed noticeable. "Well…it's just…your arm…" "Yes yes I know I'm missing one. That's why I'm here. Now go help some old lady cross a street or something." I snarled as I turned away, heading towards my flight entrance. "Stupid little bugger." I took a drag out a cigarette and spat it into a trashcan as I passed it. As I headed to my flight, a large man in uniform grabbed my arm.
    "Miss, you're going to have to go through the metal detector like everyone else. I glared at him fiercely, but to no avail. He was much larger, and therefore unaffected. I sighed and went to the metal detector, watching people having to strip off their clothes to get rid of their metals. As my turn arrived, I placed my bags on the conveyor belt and stepped through the detector. As the machine rang loudly in my ears, the people looked at me strangely. Sighing, I put on an embarrassed face. "….They said the stitches wouldn't go off….I'm sorry, but, they used metal in my…" I gestured at my arm, internally screaming in their faces. They all looked at me uncomfortably. "…just go ahead ma'am. We didn't mean to embarrass you," one of the guards said, his ears turning pink. I quickly grabbed my bags, ignoring the extra apologies.
    As I boarded my flight, I took a seat in the far back, so as to avoid disturbance. I even placed my bags in the other seats, to ward off unwanted visitors. Sitting down far from the walkway, I stared out onto the blacktop, watching as the little men scrambled for parking and luggage trains. Unbuttoning my jacket, I smirked at the guns strapped inside.

~*~
    "Miss, Miss we've landed." I opened my eyes suddenly. I must've fallen asleep during the flight. I thought to myself. The flight attendant smiled at me obliviously, helping me with my bags. " No, I can do it." I hoisted myself out of the seat, pulling the strap of one bag over my shoulder and edging into the walkway. "Are you sure you don't want any help? She asked politely, handing me my other bag. "Yes, I'm absolutely certain.

~*~
    As I walked through the forested pathway, I heard a loud voice behind me. "Wait!!" I stopped to look behind me, only to be approached by a rather winded looking man. "Hi…I'm Cain….are you here for the prize too?" I didn't answer, and went up to the large house in front of me. As I came in, I found myself in an empty room, well, empty besides a small table in the center. I dropped my bag as I strode up to the table, grabbing the letter with my name on it. Ripping the envelope off, I pulled out the letter.

Erin,

I'm so glad that you could make it to play. I have arranged for an icebreaker so that you can get to know a few of your opponents, but I ran into a little problem: this mansion doesn't seem to have enough rooms for all of you. I really hate it when something unexpected like that happens.

You know what else I hate? Acquaintances. It's so confusing for when you're supposed to decide when they're your friends, and you can never remember how you're supposed to treat them.

So I came up with a plan to treat both of these problems at the same time.

I will be sending some of my acquaintances into the room. You will fight Cain Ademis to see who can kill Acquaintance #5 first. Or try to fight while trying to kill the acquaintance. That would be very exciting. Also, please try to keep the fight exciting.

I won't be very happy if you hesitate. I'll be watching the entire thing, you know.

If you lose and don't kill the acquaintance first, then please go back home. I have included plane tickets to your hometown in the envelope, but all of the acquaintances have a map of this mansion and a key to one of the rooms you will hopefully be staying in. You do want to stay and keep playing, right?

I would say "Let's have a fair fight", but I don't mind either way.

Sincerely,
<written in dark red ink, in cursive, as if a signature>You want your wish, don't you?

    I blinked, reading the letter again. Cain…As I put two and two together, the doors ahead of me opened, letting in a stream of children. On their shirts were numbers one through six. I spotted number five and my stomach dropped. He couldn't have been any older than eight. I heard a gasp next to me as Cain read his own letter. I turned and looked him in the eyes. "Erin Michaelis." He swallowed. "No…not like this. Never like this…" he said to himself. I looked at him absurdly. "You have no resolve whatsoever do you?" I noticed as other people started arriving. He looked down. "I was going to get her eyes back…" he trailed off. I pulled my gun out of the holster at my side, pointing it at his face. "Are you in?" I asked, "Or are you out?" He bit his lip, obviously conflicted.

"I'm out."

    I faltered. "What?" "I could never do it this way. Plus, you need it more than I do." He shook his head, slowly walking out the door. Then he stopped, and turned back towards me. "Good luck". I sighed, turning back, to face number five. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt as I stared into his innocent face. "What's your name kid?" He pointed to his number. "No, your real name."
    "……Christopher." I grimaced. "Alright, close your eyes Christopher. Don't open them till I tell you to." He obeyed, squinting his eyes shut. I slowly pulled the gun up to his forehead. "Hit them right between the eyes Michaelis."

I heard the bang of the gun shot, and felt the blood splatter on my face and hand.

    I lit another cigarette, taking a long drag and then letting it hang from my teeth. As I pulled the key and the map out of Christopher's pocket, I couldn't help but grin with victory.