You awake to the sound of water splashing across a cold stone surface. The familiar 'drip' sensation as that tiny drop separates from a larger mass does well to put your mind at ease if only for the moment. As your body begins to regain many of its primary functions you realize that you are not in bed and that you have not overslept. Your eyes are forced open only to be overwhelmed by the christening darkness and you immediately start to panic, thrashing wildly about only to find your appendages have been restricted by heavy chains bolted to the floor. Each half-hearted attempt to escape only leaves you further weakened until your body simply refuses to submit to its mental impulses. You lie there in a cold sweat, heart racing as a number of horrific images are painted onto the canvas that is the inky darkness. A number of horrific movies are recalled where guilty people were placed into horrible contraptions made only to torture the victim. It is even considered that you have been placed into the care of a psychotic individual who seeks only to sate his/her twisted kinks. These ideas pour into a blur of confusion and apprehensive fear, to which immediately responds the vicious snap of light.

For a moment all is deafening, your vision begins to reflexively spot due to the pulsating white light that shines viciously down overhead. Your head is in a position so that your eyes are constantly exposed to this radiant menace at all times, and closing them seems only to ease the sting temporarily, yet does no good in the long run. As you try to find a position for your head to arch, or relax without being exposed to the light you soon realize that every measure has been taken to assure the most uncomfortable isolation. Among these various other things your arms have been rolled forward (not backwards) so that the edges of your palms have been placed across the ground, pinkies facing up consequently forcing your body to naturally bend in on itself by forcing your shoulders inwards, therein creating an increased pressure on your diaphragm and making it harder to breathe. To prevent rolling your arms back, your elbows have been secured in position by bands of iron that wrap around and jut from poles in the ground. Though this increases the arch of your breadth, no support is given to your back so your head is forced to hand, also making it difficult to breathe. Your legs are secured against the ground at both leg and ankle by the same bands that constrict free range of movement by the elbows.

You fear the worst, the unmanageable tension upon your arms and upper body forcing you into a state of delusion. Questions frequent your mind as if to ask whether your sharp-short breaths will eventually cease. You have heavily considered suffocating yourself via a forced stop breathing method so as not to endure the torture of some twisted killer, rationally observing that you have quite clearly left to die. . . or have you? You bring up the strength to urge your stiff neck forward so you can gain a view forward. You are greeted by the view of iron bars some several feet away, their spacing enough to allow an arm through. There seems to be no evident keyhole that would allow them to unlock. Further inwards you notice a large, circular room. More curious are that at the perimeter of this circle are the same type of cells, with the same type of illuminating light glaring down on people in the same strange positions. You can't help but think that death are evidently the least of your worries.

Just as you are about to place your head down you are startled by the sound of metal grating against itself on a massive scale. Though you cannot visually trace the noise, you recognize that it is not far off, and are relieved when it finally stops, ushering in the sounds of several pairs of footsteps. They continue for what seems like forever before they stop. . . partially, continued only by a single pair. Consequently you can recognize the source of this visually, and what you see is unexpected.

Standing in the center of this round room was a relatively short man, you guess about 5'7. He is dressed quite proper, in a black suit with white pinstripes. Across his black stained lips is a Cuban cigar which smokes heavily upwards into a seemingly endless vertical column. He's got the features of a middle aged man, quite tanned but a full head of greased gray hair. It doesn't take much speculation that he's Italian. He takes a moment to do a complete 360, looking upon the cells with a smug grin as if cherishing some fantastic surprise. An eerie chuckle emanates from his lips before he pulls the cigar from his mouth, perched between two fingers.

“Welcome, my friends, to the greatest experience of your life!”

His remark is met with only silence, but it could be told that your assumptions were right, as he had quite the Italian accent.

“You must forgive the accommodations. Measures had to be taken that you didn't kill yourselves under the effect of those strong hallucinogens. . . You were thrashing quite heavily.”

He snaps his fingers, and for a moment nothing happens. After a few seconds have passed the iron bonds around your elbows, knees, and ankles have opened and you are free to move as you please. The sound of weak groans fill the precipice, only allowing a bemused expression to fall over the short man's face.

“There, now that I have done you all the favor of offering comfort in such a comfort less place, you will all then do me the favor of participating in my little game. . . Well, it's not like you have a choice anyway!”

To this he ushers forth boisterous laughter, met with a serious fit of coughing. He pulls out a rag from his pocket and coughs into it before continuing.

“As you can see this place is unlike any you have ever witnessed. It is a masterpiece that took two lifetimes to construct under discretion. Forgive me in advance for not telling you the exact location. Know only this, that you are the gladiators of this modern day Colosseum!”

Silence again.

“Hmm, not excited? No matter. Once the action begins I'm sure you will all have plenty to say. Let me explain the conditions for this game. If you win, I will grant you your freedom and you can go on to live your uneventful lives. You cannot lose this game as you can only die. Oh, and I forgot to mention that only one of you will win. You do the math.”

He gives a somber grin as he pulls from his pockets a watch, flipping it open and nodding at the time.

“Seeing as I'll get bored eventually watching you lot fight to the death I've made sure to add some twists and turns so as not to let it get boring. But before we do get to the exciting part I must follow protocol. The first rounds of elimination will be fights to the death and will leave half of you remaining. And remember, though you yourself may not be a killer, don't be sure that the person your fighting isn't.”

He finished there, promptly stepping outwards and away from the center of the room. His footsteps could be heard following into the medley of others, and that same loud grinding of metals placed your ears in poor condition. Hastily you dragged your exhausted body to the exterior, face pressed against the bars as you looked outwards, hoping to get a glimpse of the others. You were robbed of any such attempt, however, as the lights snapped off as quickly as they had come leaving you in the eerie silence to waste away until the gates finally opened.

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