Defying Reality

Chapter six: The slaughterhouse

"She's back."
    "Is that...?"
    "Poor girl. She worked so hard to leave."

    I woke up finding myself being dragged by my feet across the dirt floor passing kids and teens. I was dragged into a cell and my feet were dropped.
    "You're awake." It was the man from earlier.
"You know I don't want to do this." I commented
"Welcome back to the slaughterhouse Asyley." He smiled walking out and shutting the door. I gathered my brain back together and found a familiar melt bracelet around my ankle. I teared up a bit knowing what that meant. The horrors that it brought back into my life. The helpless, trapped, scared feeling is all back on my ankle. I sat up and looked around finding a little boy sitting in the corner staring at me with his legs up to his chest. I laid back on the ground as if my life was over and I was already dead.
"Nicolas!" A lady called from outside.
"What?! What do you want?! What is this place?!" He cried scared.
"Take me not the boy." I suggested.
"Well, well. Looks like our champion is back, but I'm afraid you don't call the shots around here dear." She grinned.
"You people in this place make me sick." I commented as she opened the door. The boy got up and walked forward with no hassle, but it was not by his own free wheel. The door shut and I knew that boy's journal had sadly begun in this place. This place is known as the slaughterhouse. This place is hidden in a cave filled with a lot of gathering places. Torches that hang from the wall also give it a bad vibe. People with powers are put up against each other for entertainment. They're either badly beaten or if it's a good fight according to the people watching they'll keep it going till one drops dead. If you are a survivor and people love you the option that your opponent will be killed or not has already been made. I'm a survivor and they love me so they make me and others kill. A couple minutes later the boy came back in and dropped to the floor.
"I....I killed her." his face was filled with horror. I remember when I had that same look on my face. I wanted to die, but we can't put ourselves out of misery with these ankles on. Neither can we try to take these ankles off.   
"She was only four." he cried looking at his shaking hands. I sat up and hugged him.
"It's not your fault. So never think that it is." I whispered. He hugged back.
"I .....don't know where...I, am. I don't know..... h-how I got here. I just wan-t to go home." He sobbed.