Arena
You quickly gather as much wood as you can carry, which is considerable because of your altered genetics, and take it back to Coryn and the crocodile corpse.
She has the thing gutted and skinned, the entrails floating in the swamp water not far from where she sits. You look at the blood all over her hands and shirt and get the impression that this is nothing unusual for her. She seems right at home.
You stack the wood like a pyramid and light the twigs with your complimentary kerosine lighter. It isn't long before Coryn sets the gory beast over the fire.
The two of you sit in silence at first, watching the sparks float up into the air to join the stars.
"What did you do before you went to prison?" You ask of the woman.
"I was a martial arts instructor," she tells you. "I had my own dojo."
That makes sense, you think. She has uncanny reflexes. But you've always thought martial arts instructors were supposed to be able to control their emotions and find inner peace. Looking in her eyes, you realize that inner-calm is the least likely thing you would find within her.
"Why did you kill those men?" You ask, getting right to the heart of the matter.
"I don't know," she replies, immediately on the verge of tears again. "I don't know. I woke up in a hospital and that's when they told me it happened. They say I killed my brother and my husband..." She puts the palm of her hand to her head. "I don't know. Why would I kill them? Why would I kill them?"
You stare into the fire as she verbalizes her inner turmoil. You come out of the conversation having no idea whether she is a loon who killed her brother and husband in a psychotic rage, or if she was set up.
It doesn't matter, you realize, unless she turns on you.
The two of you eat and throw the scraps to the water. Coryn complains of a headache and you volunteer to watch the camp first.
You stare into darkness for a few hours and are startled when you hear the automated voice announce "184 contestants remain." It seems death is less constant in the night.
You grow more and more weary as the night progresses, Coryn sleeping peacefully only a few feet away. When you turn your face away from the fire, you often see green spots before you eyes in the distance. The spots normally fade away rather quickly, but a particular set of spots which are before your eyes now seem pretty constant.
You blink and rub at your eyes, but the spots are still there. Only they don't shift with your vision. They remain stationary, a little in the distance. You wonder mildly what sort of creature has eyes like that...
She has the thing gutted and skinned, the entrails floating in the swamp water not far from where she sits. You look at the blood all over her hands and shirt and get the impression that this is nothing unusual for her. She seems right at home.
You stack the wood like a pyramid and light the twigs with your complimentary kerosine lighter. It isn't long before Coryn sets the gory beast over the fire.
The two of you sit in silence at first, watching the sparks float up into the air to join the stars.
"What did you do before you went to prison?" You ask of the woman.
"I was a martial arts instructor," she tells you. "I had my own dojo."
That makes sense, you think. She has uncanny reflexes. But you've always thought martial arts instructors were supposed to be able to control their emotions and find inner peace. Looking in her eyes, you realize that inner-calm is the least likely thing you would find within her.
"Why did you kill those men?" You ask, getting right to the heart of the matter.
"I don't know," she replies, immediately on the verge of tears again. "I don't know. I woke up in a hospital and that's when they told me it happened. They say I killed my brother and my husband..." She puts the palm of her hand to her head. "I don't know. Why would I kill them? Why would I kill them?"
You stare into the fire as she verbalizes her inner turmoil. You come out of the conversation having no idea whether she is a loon who killed her brother and husband in a psychotic rage, or if she was set up.
It doesn't matter, you realize, unless she turns on you.
The two of you eat and throw the scraps to the water. Coryn complains of a headache and you volunteer to watch the camp first.
You stare into darkness for a few hours and are startled when you hear the automated voice announce "184 contestants remain." It seems death is less constant in the night.
You grow more and more weary as the night progresses, Coryn sleeping peacefully only a few feet away. When you turn your face away from the fire, you often see green spots before you eyes in the distance. The spots normally fade away rather quickly, but a particular set of spots which are before your eyes now seem pretty constant.
You blink and rub at your eyes, but the spots are still there. Only they don't shift with your vision. They remain stationary, a little in the distance. You wonder mildly what sort of creature has eyes like that...