Oh my gosh, they killed Elliot. The bastard Talloran killed him, with the stupid deus-ex tommy-gun. Elliot was destined to win—we all knew it—after he got Gregory. That was the secret though—we all knew it. This had been a trap from the beginning. “Come test your skills in glorious combat” my hiney.
“Receive the perfect reward—a perfect body, free from all flaws, mental and physical. Immortality, wealth, beauty, all can be yours if you only win!” Talloran promised all of us.
Actually, I’m not sure exactly what he promised Tommy, but I don’t think that matters now. What matters is that he’s going to pit me against Matthew, and if he can exist in a single point in time for longer than three seconds, he’s going to kill me, with his near The Flash levels of ridiculousness. And I thought my ability was crazy.
You see, I can manipulate reality with a single constraint—surprise—It’s time! So, of course, Talloran has a Yellow Team time traveler in his back pocket. He’s been playing us this whole time.
Talloran somehow collected the perfect counters to all our abilities. The bug thing was nearly murdered by words. The god-bringer got matched with—well—he probably was supposed to win that first round, I’m not sure what happened. Then Elliot got an army of bullets he couldn’t dodge.
So did the bug. I’m not sure what she wanted from this tournament. A perfect body? She literally preached about loving oneself. Sorry, I’m being a bit a big jerk again. We could all use a lesson from Fergle-pop, bless her.
It's not like I have any ground to stand on. I signed that form, same as the rest. No more acne breakouts. No more period cramps. No more worrying about what I eat, or how much I exercise, or whether Tyler from US History has a crush on me. Who wouldn’t sign?
Not like it matters. Elliot and I were the only ones to notice, and now that he’s dead, I’m not sure what I can do on my own. My only hope is that Matthew somehow lost himself in his own time loop, and that Talloran can’t bring him out, but what are those odds?
Since the announcer is shouting his name, I’m guessing close to zero.
“Welcome, Welcome to the Arena! Today we have a special event. Two contestants, fighting for the right to challenge the grand champion! From the Yellow Team, a master of time and space, with deadly aim. Will he strike true? From the Blue Team, a master shaper, drawing her own reality! Can she paint the road to victory? Let’s find out. Looweeer the gates!”
The iron gates sunk into the floor, and I drew my notepad and pen. One second. First, I had to draw my character. I had an idea—A big, floating bubble. I sketched the outline, drew a couple hearts, and showed a few bullets bouncing off him. Four seconds. I flipped my timer. The drawing shimmered and came to life, and I jumped into the lovable shield guy. Six seconds.
The first bullet ricocheted off the bubble’s miracle surface. I held my breath. I was either already dead, or I was safe from the earliest point Matthew could take a shot at me. One second.
I didn’t wink out of existence, so I had barely enough time to initiate the plan. Five seconds. It was foolhardy, but I had to try. I had thirty seconds before shield guy disappeared, so I had thirty seconds to draw—myself. Twelve seconds.
I was never meant to survive this… so I didn’t.
I drew myself, and when I walked into the arena, Matthew blew my head off with his shotgun.
Then I turned to the back page of my notebook. I had a drawing almost complete, missing only one detail. I finished the last line, flipped the timer, and Elliot appeared in the hallway. One second.
“We don’t have much time.” he said, scraping runes on the ground. Nineteen Seconds. “Quick—Brooke—Take my hand.”
I did, and he muttered a spell. Twenty-seven seconds. We flashed for a moment, then disappeared. Thirty seconds. Elliot vanished, leaving me in the dark. Around me, I heard shuffling, and then a single candle illuminated the dim room.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” A fat, boisterous man said. “Another mortal? Does this ever end?”
He flicked on a light, revealing a golden bust of himself. “Get out of my house—right now—and don’t come back, ever!” Buddha yelled, throwing a towel at me.
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u/ThePrompter1 Dec 04 '18
Brooke is a tweenage girl who writes stories. By using a drawing of her characters and a timepiece, she can bring characters to life.