The Tribunal

The First Game

      When Memori returned Sors was still leaning on his desk sharpening one of his pencils with her knife. She looked up when he entered ready to snap at him for taking so long, but his face made her pause. It was not his usual placid blankness, there was something sad in the lines around his eyes, something she’d never seen from him before. So she changed gears, “I’ve gotta get down to the Games Room for an activity, do you wanna come?”

     He hesitated a moment before nodding, “I will accompany you.”

    In the Games Room they found Allen and Dennis waiting by two attendants.

     As soon as she stepped into the Game Room Sors took on a somewhat manic energy, her eyes lighting up and a spring making its way into her step. 

          “Alright,” she said, clapping her hands to gain their attention, “we’re going to be playing a game.”

      Allen let out a grunt, “I don’t have time for this bullshit.”

      Sors grinned sharp as her knife, “If you don’t think my games are important enough for you we can go play in the room behind the lobby.”

     Allen’s mouth snapped shut and Dennis paled considerably at her threat.

     “Now if you’re ready we’ll decide what game you’re going to play. Mori, if you would roll out the machine?”

     Memori pointed his middle and index fingers at one of the attendants and snapped them together before shifting them to point at a door on the far side of the room. The attendant walked away without a word and returned a moment later pushing an old fashioned, bright red slot machine on a wheeled table.

      The attendant stopped the machine in front of Sors and stepped back beside the other attendant. Sors pointed at the machine, “This is how you’ll decide what to play. You’ll each pull a handle and whatever it stops on you are going to play.”

     Unlike a typical slot machine this one had two levers, one on either side. Neither Allen nor Dennis made a move, Allen simply glared at the machine while Dennis fiddled with his glasses in an attempt to look busy.

     “Pull the lever,” Sors snapped, gesturing impatiently to the machine.

     They both jerked forward and pulled down on their respective levers. The panels spun, a blur of color going around and around until it slowed to form a picture.

     “Skee-ball!” Sors exclaimed with another excited clap. “Wonderful, it’s been a while since we’ve had that one.” She practically skipped over to the far wall and let her fingers fly over the keypad in the corner. With a smirk over her shoulder at the Patrons she hit the green button.

     The two Patrons gasped as the room filled with light and the walls rumbled. When the light subsided there were two skee-ball machines protruding from the far wall; one red and one blue.

     Sors leaned against the red one crossing her arms and facing the Patrons, “Alright, so you are going to play a game of skee-ball. Each of you will have ten balls and the one with the most points at the end wins, the loser will face whatever consequence I see fit, to not finish the game is an automatic forfeit.” 

      She shrugged off the machine, “You’ll find that our machines are a little,” she paused and her grin spread wider, “different than any you have played on before, but it’s all part of the fun. The game will begin when you press the start buttons.”

     Allen and Dennis stepped up to the machines, red and blue respectively, and pressed their buttons. 

      The machines didn’t look any different than those found at every arcade, ten through fifty point rings in the middle and two one hundred point rings on the top at either side. The balls dropped into the holding area, Dennis picked one up and weighed it in his hand a moment before rolling it up the lane. It dropped into the twenty point hole with a satisfying pop.

     Allen let out a groan clutching his arm to his chest, “What the hell?” he ground out between his teeth.

     Sors and Memori watched on, the former grinning as the latter was as blank faced as always.

     “Please continue,” Memori reminded when Allen failed to pick up a ball in favor of cradling his sore arm.

      Allen shook the arm out as the sharp pain began to fade into a dull ache, “I didn’t even do anything to it,” he muttered, ignoring Memori as he looked over the limb for any sign of damage.

     “Is that a forfeit?” Sors asked in a sing-song voice.

      Allen looked up, meeting the grey orbs that glittered maliciously back at him, cold as the steel blade of a knife. His eyes dropped back to the red skee-ball machine, “No, I’m not going to lose.” His fingers wrapped around the first ball and he hurled it up the lane, it sank into the forty point hole.

     Immediately Dennis dropped to his knees clutching his head with a strangled yelp. White, hot pain tore through his skull blinding him momentarily.

     Allen watched, eyes narrowed as Dennis rubbed his temples, “Do you give up?”

     Dennis shook his aching head slowly, “No, just give me a second.” Legs trembling he got to his feet and picked up the next ball, once again he sank it into the twenty point hole bringing them to a tie.

     “God dammit,” Allen grunted, his ball thudded to the ground as he grabbed his arm again. “What the hell is going on here?”

     Memori calmly stooped to pick up the red ball that had rolled to a stop at his feet. In measured strides he made his way to his most difficult Patron and dropped the game piece into his hand, “Please take your turn.”

     Allen gripped the ball tightly, his
knuckles blanching from the pressure, “I’ll take it when I’m ready.”

     Memori didn’t respond, he simply turned and walked back over to Sors who was grinning maniacally.

     “Do you think they’ve figured it out yet?” she whispered excitedly.

     He shook his head slightly, “On the contrary I don’t think they’ve connected the dots yet.”

     “Well they should figure it out soon enough,” she said, “it won’t be any fun if they don’t.”

     Allen’s turn landed in the thirty point hole bringing his total up to seventy. A self-satisfied smirk pulled at his face, there was no way he was letting the dorky kid beat him.

     Dennis let out a scream as his hands flew to his face, his strangled cry of, “My eyes!” filled the room.

     Allen looked to their captors, eyes narrowed, and it was clear to see he was quickly coming upon a realization.

     Blinking heavily, Dennis straightened. He wiped his eyes with his hand, surprised to find they were only wet with tears. He had been certain that they would come away stained with blood.

     Sors smiled as she watched, the games could cause pain, but the players were already dead so there were never any lasting effects.