Day One: Part 1

[Blackfire]

If you made it past the preliminary stage and into the game, you were a threat, plain and simple. It meant that you possessed a unique quality, or qualities that stood out among the thousands of Primes that had signed up and failed to make an impact onto the judges. So when Blackfire had come face to face with the pink haired girl, when she had looked down at her, she saw past the innocence in her eyes. The bottom line was; either you were willing to cooperate with the empress, or you were a threat, therefore, the Tamaranean had not regretted making the first move; the only thing she failed to anticipate was that the girl had allies.

Blackfire grunted in pain, hands continuously pressed against her snapped fibula. She grunted again, but this time, it merged with laughter, realising that she had fallen into their trap. It all made sens now. They had obviously preplanned ahead of an encounter with a foe. It was so simple. Plan A: use the child as bait because she looks so sweet and vulnerable, and if the girls innocence isn’t convincing enough to lure the foe into a false sense of security, resort to Plan B: remain hidden. Let the child hold her own against the foe and then the concealed group members will come out of hiding and ambush the foe, the second their guard drops.

Blackfire’s upper body swayed from left to right, trying her hardest to balance herself on her left leg. She pierced the shovel into the ground and applied her body weight onto it, holding on for dear life. Her hands trembled violently as the sharp pain continued to course through her right leg. After a few moments of concentration, she was finally able to keep a steady balance. That prompted a deep sigh, content to remain in the same spot for a little while. Music, she thought to herself and then closed her eyes. Whenever she experienced discomfort, mentally or physically, she would listen to music. The more songs she listened to, the more her mind eased, simultaneously, stress gradually decreasing. Unfortunately, her supply bag didn’t come with an iPod, therefore she would improvise.

As Blackfire began humming softly to one of her favourite songs, she began reflecting on the events that had transpired since she entered the Dante Verse.


“Yesterday I fell in love.”

The image of The Rock bringing his lips to hers replayed in her mind. She felt warmth the moment their lips connected. That was then, but not now. She just wasn’t in the right state of mind. The only feeling occupying her mind was confusion.

Why had he kissed her? He did not even know her. He had just met her for the first time. Did he mean to, or was it merely a publicity stunt to boost his reputation and the show’s ratings?

“You didn’t fucking mean it,” she scowled.

She had never shared a passionate kiss, let alone even kiss anyone, ever, before. Her mentor Tyrand’r was the only person that had shown her any type of affection. So who could blame her for being sceptical?


“Today feels like my funeral.”

Physically, had never felt this much pain. She had experienced her fair share of fights, even wars, but never had she left a fight with a broken bone, only cuts and bruises, at most. In her current state, she was easy pickings. Her next encounter could be her last. If that transpired, she would have failed and her efforts to track down and kill the Psion on this island would be in vain. She had to survive, at least until she fulfilled her objective.


“I just got hit by a bus.”

For a pintsized individual with tiny fists, that child sure packed a punch. The force behind her blow had literally, lifted Blackfire off her feet, careening backwards through the air.

How could a child possess so much power?


“I feel like a killer hit me.”

Who were these people? First the girl, then the pair of long arms from the real life version of Stretch Armstrong, only with bony arms and a ridiculous straw-hat. He hit just as hard. In fact, he was the reason she had retreated. In a desperate attempt to avoid absorbing any more shows from his rocks-for-fists, she weaved to her right, but landed carelessly, hence the broken leg. Had she let her pride consume her and continued to fight them, they would have destroyed her.

I have got to get away from here, she realised. Being out in the open was inexcusable, even with her handicap.

With a hiss, Blackfire thrust the shovel forward with his right hand, and while she put her full weight on it, brought her left leg forward. She never imagined the shovel would play an important part in her survival, as she began using it as a crutch.

This was going to be a long day.