Battle Royale: Protagonist

BATTLE ROYALE: PROTAGONIST. By Graham Stoner

I couldn't understand a word they were saying but that large "BR" written on the blackboard gave the game away. The neck collar too. I had read about the Japanese BR Act off the Internet, I knew what it meant and I knew I could possibly be the first British fatality that up to now was a Japanese affair. Why was I here?

It started two weeks back I was arrested and thrown into the back of a military truck, my protests went unheard but it was obvious they didn't know what I was saying. I felt like a deaf man in the eye of a war.

I have to admit the reasons for my arrest are quite valid, I had shot at a few cops but it was merely in self-defence, I doubt I even hit any of them. They were shooting at me and now I was stuck in this dilapidated classroom with kids’ three years younger than me all clad in light grey school uniforms looking awe struck and frightened. Maybe they didn't know what was going on?

Every single one had stared at me and then the other "transfer student". He was tall, his hair was bleached and his uniform was dark blue. His eyes were haunting like an H addict gone cold turkey.

The instructional video phased me, I didn't know the language and I didn't really care but the thing that lay heavier than lead on my mind was the foreknowledge that I might have to kill every last one of these kids. Damn, even if I did survive I might as well be dead because I don't know if my conscience could take it.

""

Shit, it’s time. I recognised my name. I just stared at the floor ran to the military man, received my kit and fled onto the island. Into the breach.

I ran until I needed to catch my breath, my joints felt exhausted but I made good distance, I shouldn’t bump into any of them kids...

And there I was staring into the barrel of a revolver welded by one of the girls. Her _expression said fear but she fired anyway only to find that the safety catch was on.

Fuck this... I thought, I nearly got killed by a fifteen year-old Japanese schoolgirl and the only thing that saved my arse was her incompetence. I won’t be so lucky next time.

She was trembling. The gun still trained at my face.

Putting my hands in front of me I gestured her to back off and that I meant no harm.

"Hey, British!" I heard from behind. It was the other transfer student and I heard the distinct sound of a shotgun cocking. Grabbing the girl’s pistol I swung round and released the catch. I wasn’t in time and the boom of the transfer student’s shotgun rocketed the countryside.

I collapsed under the weight of a now dead Japanese schoolgirl, her face was now a red blur of facial tissue, skull and grey matter so I plugged him in the head. I dropped her lifeless body to the floor and remember my kit. The one that was thrown to me just before I left the classroom. The bag wasn’t of any particular heavy weight I thought that maybe I had received a knife or something similar but it wasn’t. Instead I had in my hands, my "weapon", a box of matches.

Two down, forty to go.

I heard the screams and desperate plea for help from inside some tool shed; a young fairly attractive classmate was the front of an attempted rape. Shotgun in hand I thought I might as well play the hero role. So I blasted him in the back. Her exposed breasts were caked in the gore of someone she might have been partnered up with during a school science experiment. I threw the girl her blazer jacket to cover her dignity. I stood by the exit of the tool shed. And that’s when she spoke.

"Thank you."

"You speak English?" I enquired, reloading the shotgun.

"A little... why are you here?" Her English was a little sketchy but I could easily get the gist of what she was saying.

"I’m a transfer student..."

"Are you going to kill me?"

I thought about it, raise the shotgun and blow her fucking head clean off and why not I should be thinking of survival. If I don’t fight I can’t survive right? Just like the video probably said.

"No... I’m not going to kill you... have you got a weapon?"

She buttoned her shirt up and replaced her blazer before searching through her kit.

"I haven’t seen what I got yet."

She pulls out a weighty crystal ashtray and hands it to me.

"Tell you what, have this pistol." Throwing the piece in her direction.

She could have easily taken a pot shot at me but fat chance of that. The gun wasn’t even loaded. She offered to join me, I was apprehensive but let her anyway I doubt I’d find any other English-speaking classmates.

DAY ONE.

6 AM.

Numi had told about the first report, we were near two new danger zones and a further five people died last night. Leaving thirty-four to go. The dawn of a new day presented itself. The game had only begun and yet eight people had died. Two of each had died by my hands.

Three of the classmate had committed suicide, one by hanging he was boy and a young couple who instead of slugging it out decided to take the easy option by jumping off a cliff. One girl died when her necklace exploded and the other transfer student had shot the last one, a girl whom Numi was best friends with. She took comfort in the knowledge that I had killed the murdered of her friend, he had made two killing before his death.

Numi was sat holding the gun in her hands staring at it.

"You know how to fire that thing?"

Confusion filled her eyes. So I sat across from her and grabbed the gun.

"You do know how to fire a gun?"

She shook her head then enquired whether I was here to save everyone. I hadn’t really noticed what I was wearing; it was a mixture of dark greens and bright reds with black faded numbers littering the camouflage. My neck collar also appeared to be different.

What was the importance of this? I thought but besides it didn’t matter I wasn’t here to save anyone but myself and now I had just done something that could possibly spell the end of me. I had an emotional link with someone. If only one person may be allowed to live I would have to kill Numi. I momentarily placed that information at the back of my mind.

After copying the danger zone information from Numi’s map we hiked up the only available route, we heard chaos behind us and it was close, way too close for my personal liking and to the left and right of us were those damned danger zones.

The hill was steep and covered with knee-high grass, I felt exposed and the only relief was the cold steel of my shotgun’s trigger resting tight in my grip. When we reached the top we froze in anxious fear at the sight of the co-ordinator Takahashi, the teacher of Numi’s class and with him was another student wearing similar clothes to me. Four armed guards greeted us and stripped us of our weapons.

"Ewan Stole." Said a voice so cold it could have only came from a sadist. The glee in the face of the teacher filled me with even more hatred. His English was broken but understandable.

"So you killed the transfer. A spice in the mix, he had joined for fun. This is Susemi Kiyoko, she too is violent." He spat bitterly. "Disobedient and without the respect this country needs."

"Sorry to piss on your parade dick head but you may have noticed a slight racial difference between myself and the others in this ‘class’."

A firm smack to my face was all that I needed to know that this guy wasn’t taking any my shit. He then kicked me in the stomach to ensure I was listening.

"You were in our country, you abide by our rules! Another rule you will abide is the protection of Kiyoko."

I side spat the blood from my mouth. "You mean, ‘baby-sit’?"

"No, both of you are part of the BR 2 act; the New Century Terrorist Counter-Measure Alternative. Though both of you are not terrorists but you are murderers in our society. You killed a police man, she killed five of her fellow students in a high school shooting."

And that’s when it hit me. A man had died by my hands even before this.

It had been half an hour since we were teamed up with Kiyoko and not a single word had uttered from her mouth. She was cold and not in a physical sense, she was just evil. Her hair had red streaks and her face was perpetually made up with dark colours but it wasn’t too long until she made her intentions quite clear.

We were walking through a dense area of overgrowth and I simply asked Numi to ask Kiyoko whether or not she spoke English.

The confrontational bitch made a threat, I didn’t know what she had said and Numi refused to tell me. I fronted up to her, I was taller and I looked into her cold eyes.

"I don’t care if you understand me or not but I’m not taking your bullshit..." And then that’s when she kicked me, right in my privates. The sharp pain flew around my lower abdominal muscles and fell to the ground, which gave Kiyoko ample time to overwhelm Numi. She held her knife at Numi’s throat. Numi dropped the revolver, which I grabbed quickly.

"< I’ll slit this bitches throat... she’s excess baggage! >" She shouted.

I didn’t understand her but I knew exactly what she meant.

I stood up and held the revolver’s barrel to my head. I smiled but fear flooded those cold eyes of hers. Tears streamed down Numi’s face and the barrel was pressed hard against my skin. My finger tightened on the barrel.

... And then, in perfect unison Kiyoko screamed in fear and I pulled the trigger.

My brains caked the tree beside me, my dead eyes rolled to the roof of my eyelids and my lifeless body fell to the ground like dirty laundry, smoke formed from the hot barrel.

Numi broke free and cradled my corpse as she cried.

Kiyoko stared at me and then her collar began to bleep. She tugged at it in a futile attempt but it was no help.

... But when I did pull that trigger no bullet punctured through my skull and exploded in my head because in my pocket was the bullets. Kiyoko dropped the knife and Numi pulled herself free. Kiyoko’s face turned red in anxiety and a build of tears broke in her eyes. She fell to the floor like dirty laundry this time.

I walked over to her and she looked up at me as she kneeled. We had broken through the lingual differences in favour of eye contact. She didn’t need to speak, I knew what sort of person she was and I had just cleared out years of hatred within her. When she massacred her classmates she did it out of self hate and fear, it was then that I realised that she was possibly more vulnerable than Herito Numi. She stood up and held me.

Numi stood behind me confused as to what the hell was going on. Kiyoko cried for what seemed hours as she cuddled me for security. Numi appeared to be jealous.

DAY ONE.

12 PM.

I hadn’t slept but neither had the other two. Kiyoko had seemed to take a liken to me and this seemed to annoy Numi. I found it amusing that even through all this. Jealously could still breathe.

Eight had died since the last report; we had seen the corpses of two of them both had succumb to grievous wounds inflicted by each other.

Numi had fallen asleep by my side; Kiyoko was sharpening a branch out of boredom.

I turned to Kiyoko, "You’re the same number as me aren’t you?"

She wasn’t entirely sure what I had said. But she recognised the word "number".

She nodded.

"What about the other, the number before you joined."

She thought for a moment, "Necklace. Girl #13." She paused for a moment. "Takahashi..."

The girl before, her name was Tsumi Miiko, she had pigtails and after her number was called she made about twenty yards before her collar detonated. I wanted to wake Numi and ask her if I had replaced someone in her class. And if that someone had already been killed so I could join but before I had the chance to ponder that scenario in great depth, Kiyoko had just tried to kiss me.

End of Part One of Three.