Stephen Erickson's Story

Chatter filled the classroom at volumes that could hardly be qualified as ‘indoor voices,’ though to be honest, this kind of liveliness was a nice break from the usual tense, stressful atmosphere. The substitute teacher occasionally peered over the rim of his shiny square glasses, but his gaze only ever lasted a second or two before he went back to studiously absorbing his nine-hundred page novel. Someone was already on his smart phone with about a dozen other kids at his back, looking over his shoulder with an intense, captivated stare. Hazel lifted her head a little and took a peek along with them.

It seemed like he’d opened up one of the Bullet Hell live stream matches. Locally casted matches tended to be just as popular as international and this was one of them, not to mention the fact that it was a junior league provisional match. If a team wins two out of the three provisional matches, they get a spot in the ranks. As a way of seeding teams out early, all provisional matches were to be set as Elimination matches. A harsh, but generally effective sorting method.

Halfway through the class, someone knocked at the door and asked for Hazel – the stranger in question was a tall man with a prickly-looking stubble and sharp, calculating eyes. She recognized the man and immediately understood what he was here for.
“Provisional matches are starting in several hours,” the man said, gently leading Hazel out the door by the hand. He left a note on the door and waved with an awkward smile toward the teacher before making off with her. “You should take that time to get acquainted with your new team.”

“Why is it on such short notice?” she asked, following him to his car. Her older brother was standing there as well; he must’ve been notified beforehand and decided to wait outside the school to see her off, though it seemed like her parents weren’t able to make it. Granted, they've usually been pretty busy with the debt piling on and on. Sometimes they didn't come back for days with all the work they've been trying to squeeze in just to make a few extra bucks.

“Just bad timing, I guess,” he laughed.

Hazel’s brother smiled sheepishly and put his hand forward in a fist. She smiled in turn and gave it a good a bump with her own fist.

“Go kick some ass, Hazel,” he grinned. “No pressure.”

“Yeah,” she nodded with only the slightest hint of hesitation. “It won’t be like last time.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he said, giving her few heavy pats on the back as she climbed into the car. “I’ll be watching, just so you know. Come back home in one piece, alright?”

"I will."

~

The number of people that had gathered was significantly more than she last recalled. Not everybody here was playing today; some of them were here to get to know their new teams, just like her. Still, it was almost an eye-opening experience to see so many teams in the same place—everyone looked so different—just from a glance, she could see people who were cold-hearted, people who were cheerful and upbeat, and people who were clearly here against their own will.

“Your team is going to be meeting here,” the man said, gesturing over to the side; a long bench with square tables set by the window. Blinking curiously, Hazel slightly tilted her head to see that only one person had arrived so far. “Oh, we’re here early by the way,” he said, as though to address her concern by reading her thoughts. He made a quick wave with his hand. “The others should be here soon.” Looking to the side, it seemed like there was another team meeting right next to theirs. It was only a guess based on a hunch, but it would appear that they were a newly forming team as well. Her eyes then shifted over to a clock on the wall.

Only a few hours, huh? These are gonna be the longest hours of my life.

Jackson Jasper watched silently around the room where new junior teams were forming. His dark-green eyes didn't waver as some, more...bloodthirsty, opponents caught his gaze. He wasn't scared, he wasn't daunted. Honestly, he could care less. If he died in this game, he died. If he survived, he received money. And money, the sweetness that it was, was all he strived for. He's heard of people saying that money does not buy happiness. But have they ever not had money? Money does buy happiness. Living on the streets made him realize this fact.

He had gone ahead of Stephen, to find where their team was supposed to be. He found it. And he was just sitting quietly. Bullet Hell. The number one game in the world.

---

---

New teams, eh? a man thought to himself as he trudged his way through all the forming junior teams, Hmm...choices, choices. Casper Casanova smirked as he went by the teams. He was there to mentor one, and only one, team. Some, other, professional Bullet Hell players were there, but not many. Most couldn't mentor do to...personal reasons. And most pro's who want to mentor, usually retire too.

Searching the crowd of kids for a suitable team, which was challenging, due to his stature, he noticed two people sitting at a bench. They must've been waiting for the rest of their team members. Smiling, Casper made his way to the window-side team. He walked up to a girl with an obviously mechanical arm. Wow, mechanical arm. Technology these days. He opened up with a big grin and, "Hello, hello! My name is Casper Casanova, and I will be mentoring your team!"

---

'Twas another day for Makaria, particularly today since she was on yet another assassination mission for a client. Said client was yet to be announced to her, but it was to kill a CEO whom was unworthy of his title as CEO of a company that hurt far more than it helped. Needless to say, Makaria didn't hold anything to heart when she planned out how she was to slay the man, or rather, where she was going to catch him where no witnesses could be found. So rather casually, being a Bullet Hell player, and the company gave a couple of sponsorships to a certain few players, she thought of the bait and trap. Makaria was to pose as a player wanting a sponsership, and as soon as she goes into the soundproof negotiations room, he'd die. Of course, she did ask for a private meeting, nobody else has seen her. Soon the CEO had entered, and sat down,

"About this contract, ms...?"

"You can just call me Thanatos."

"Anyway. What rank are you-" the CEO asked before realizing what had happened, the assassin plunged a blade into, and through his chest, splitting his sternum and severing his Aorta. He was dead on the spot. Removing the blade of her gun from the man, and wiping it on his shirt, Makaria left, her job done. Though as soon as she was on the streets a call came in on her phone, she picekd it up rather coldly,

"What?" Makaria asked, knowing who would call at this time, knowing that Makaria was usually out killing at this point,

"Teams are meeting up. You need to come here, Izanami."

"Yeah yeah. New team crap, great. Next time, pick a better time to call. Like the damn night before?" she snapped before hanging up the phone and walking to where they usually are forced to meet. Makaria sighed seeing all the new teams, some colder than she was, some bubbly teenagers, others were the "reaped" ones in her head, and so on. Though her team was a bit away, next to them was a rather big team, all looked younger than her, they had seemingly no mentor. Easy prey if they weren't such a big team in her head. The next team she noticed was a team of two, but there was a mentor, Casper Casanova to be exact, that scared Makaria, Her mentor, Dirk Hammon, or "Annihilator" had told her about the man, he was scary in the sense that, even if he had no weapon he'd still find a way to win with his bare hands. Topping it off, she had the firm idea that most old mentors knew eachother, especially with Dirk and the twin pistols he once held, which currently resided with Makaria, anyone whom played or watched Bullet Hell games knew the style her mentor had, medium-close range fighter using both bullets and blades with the twin guns. Makaria rose, looking at her team,

"Excuse me... I have to go somewhere real quick..." she said before passing Casper, accidentally, yet unknowingly bumping him with one of her guns on her lower back, helped with a quick draw. Though she quite honestly needed a moment to catch her breath. Not from noticing Casper, but from remembering her Mentor, whom was more of a parent than her useless excuse of her mother, whom willingly signed her only daughter into a game that could easily see her killed, burtalized, maimed, so on. Without any warning Makaria needed the chance to be on her own, like the several years she had to be.

Stephen stayed behind as Jackson went to go find the rest of their new team. Stephen was more interested in taking in all of the sights before he bothered with social and team technicalities. This place is everything he dreamed it would be. Everywhere he looked there were young and fit people with determination in their eyes. Not all of the faces were strange. Some were very recognizable as pro players waltzed around the showroom. It was weird to see them in nice clothes and not running either for their lives, or after someone else's.

Stephen seemed to walk aimlessly, the badge with his photo I.D. bouncing against his chest. As time progressed, everyone was finding their places. So many new teams were forming up this year. The competition was getting more fierce with each passing year. Perfect, Stephen thought as he imagined finally getting a chance to play on a Bullet Hell field. He wasn't scared of death. Death didn't excite him either. He just wants the adrenaline rush that such an extreme sport could only give.

To his right, Stephen noticed the man known as, "World Destroyer". He was with a team, perhaps as a mentor? That's not too encouraging. To his left there were more teams talking to mentors. Some were meeting for the first time, and some were already discussing battle strategies. To be honest, some of the players here looked very intimidating. And straight ahead Stephen spotted the silver head of his best friend, Jackson.

As Stephen approached the seats that Jackson was sitting at he noticed the two others. Both were women, one had very vibrant red hair and carried a certain friendliness to her. The other... not so much. From joining in on conversation Stephen picked up that the girl with the red hair's name is Shannon. The very tough looking woman was Kelly Michaels, their mentor. Stephen was excited, a hard and strict mentor made him convinced that they would do good in competitions.

When a moment came up to interject into the conversation Stephen stepped forward to introduce himself. "Hey there, I'm Stephen. Jackson here is my buddy, and we're the ones who started this team. So it looks like we're three down, two to go? I wonder where they are?". And what they're like?

"Eh, don't worry about it Hazel. It's just for me to get a feel of you guys, "Casper said, then, realizing, "Goddamn it! That sounded bad. I mean, so I can get an understanding of how you work."

And then he heard it. Whispers of 'Silver Knight.' Casper shook his head without even turning around. He remembered the match against Silver Knight's team. God, it was easy though, right up until the end when Silver Knight was the last alive. He took out two of Casper's teammates before Dax finished him off. Thinking of that fight still gave him shivers. Dax finished 'Silver Knight' of though. Quite well, too. Clean. Bullet through the head. Wow, Silver Knight was a good shot. The best. But, Dax was better overall. Maybe not in shooting, but most everything else. And, also, Dax was a crazy bastard. Sometimes in Bullet Hell you need a little bit, or a lotta bit, of crazy.

And then the young-woman who had bumped into him earlier started to ask questions. "Bwaha! Dirk? I remember him. He's dead though. Good for him. Went out like he should've; in his sleep. Wait, right? I'm not entirely sure. Eh, whatever," Casper raised his eyebrow when she presented to him Dirk's old pistols, "Ahh, so you were his student. Good, proof. Well, what were those questions you wanted to ask?"

---

---

Jackson opened his eyes at the sound of a very disturbing voice talking about killing Kelly. He barked out a deep laugh. How could he not? He looked past Kelly and saw Miodog Bludfola, only recognizing him by the accurate team description, and said, "Miodog, nice to meet you. The name's Jackson. And...killing's for inside the game. If you die, then I'll let you kill Miss Michaels here. And if any of the other's die...including me, and she's not gone fast, then she's free game. Of course, that's if you can kill a Pro. Which you probably can't."

Jackson laughed again, before he realized that Stephen made it. Jackson smiled, something that looked natural on the young-man, "Oh, hey. I didn't see you there Stephen. How's it going?"

Kelly was keeping quiet, already regretting her decision for mentoring this team. The psychopath came out of nowhere for one, the big one had a very deep, annoying voice. The male one that was standing up just pissed her off, maybe his voice? And the female was to colourful. Well...mostly her hair. But that would make Kelly a hypocrite, because she had that blonde hair. Wait, it doesn't make her a hypocrite because she wears head-gear that covers her hair. Kelly could only wish that she could leave now, but she made her choice when she picked this team. Nothing could help her with that. At least the big one, Jackson?, had said some truths. She might get over his voice faster than all the other things she didn't like about this team.

Shannon eyes widened briefly at her rude team mate already feeling the urge to stick him a new one though that didn't seem like the best idea considering he was her new... Teammate...

"Well this is going to be fun.", she said to herself as she gave the sleeping boy the once over before shrugging her shoulders and turning her attention to the next point of interest, her hands clenching and uncleanching ever so slightly. It was a weird feeling, having to restrain herself when she felt the need to beat someone, though she wasn't stupid and already had a feeling the silver head wasn't as weak as he might appear.

Shannon glanced up as a new boy joined their little group and introduced himself as Stephan and at least seemed to hold a polite demeanor which caused her to smile at him, maybe it wasn't completely hopeless. "Hi Stephen, nice friend you go there.", she said jokingly, glancing at the silver head again. She had a feeling her and that boy wouldn't be the best of friends any time soon.

Shannon glanced up when she noticed a small commotion going on, and when she said that she meant that she could suddenly smell blood. Nothing like usual but that coppery smell that seemed to flavor the air was defiantly there. She paused momentarily at the guy with dripping lips and blinked before her lips quirked up into some what of a bumused smirk. Quite full of himself this one was.

"So now theres only one left huh? Let's hope their more talkative then you lot... then again, taking my luck into account I doubt it.", she said happily, humming as she gave each person around her a once over.

So far she had a battle hardened pro who didn't look to happy; A sleepy silver head with a distant personality and a disinterest to enter conversation with her; The boy who was best friends with the silver head who seemed okay; and a arrogant psychopath that she wouldn't trust as far as she could throw him. Well at least they all looked to be decent killers, though she wasn't sure if she could take much comfort in that...