Extend the Story - Add a Room

You oblige to honor the man's request, swooping down and stabbing him just under his ribcage to penetrate his heart. He lets out a quick wince of pain but dies quickly enough.

"175 contestants remaining." Comes the voice from over head.

Scavenging the body is essential to survival in this contest. You take his water first; taking two much needed pulls from the canteen before setting it down.

This guy had water! That's for damn sure. He has a good five canteens, most full. You add these to your one and a half and estimate that you should have enough water to last four days.

He has more ammunition for the rifle, five more good rounds, plus what ever is already in the chamber.

The rifle's nice, too. It has a silencer attached to it and scope to help pick off the enemy. You assume it will come in handy.

You lean your back up against a tree and attempt to examine your wounded shoulder. The bullet is still in there, you realize. To avoid infection, you have to remove it. You look to your army knife and wince in pain as you dig into the wound and pry the bullet out. By the time you get the lead out of your arm the hole is three times as large. You tear off a sleeve of your prison issued attire and wrap the wound tightly.

You lean your head back and close your eyes, surprised at how quickly unconsciousness lays its claim upon you.

You stir occasionally when the automated voice from above calls out another fallen contender, but you are in no state to calculate your odds and pay the updates little heed. Another voice awakens you sometime later.

"Is this your strategy in the arena?" Comes the voice.

You squint your eyes open to see a short and slender old Asian man standing above you. He has his canteens chained over a shoulder, two in total, and carries no other discernable weapons.

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