@ZGreatWizard2: Project Glupyy is a go!
A series of pings sound off in the private group chat as Isa, Zahir, Luke, Liam, Randall, and G confirm—they're in. All of them.
"You really think this is going to work?" G asks, sitting on his bed across from me. Dark, crescent moons of pushy flesh underscore his tired eyes.
"Yes—because it has to." My partial smile shows more confidence than I feel.
I stare for a moment at little G and his casted arm. Headmaster Hayes deserves to go down for what he did, for guilting G and Randall into telling their lie. For his lightly veiled threat about them losing their scholarships. And for the burden both have been hoodwinked into carrying.
The worst guilt trip ever.
No wonder G has been so up and down. Our stupid plan has to work—for him...for all of us, and maybe for Preston most of all. But we need proof; proof that won't mysteriously disappear when we go to the police. And while the lot of us debated to no end last night, we all finally agreed...
Trust no one.
Not professor Atlas or Kaz or our squad leaders or anyone. At least for this one day. Because Skin Wars is the perfect cover for our plan. And I want vengeance for G. And for Randall. And for the boy I never knew.
* * *
My breath catches when I take in The Great Hall's transformation. Long jumbotron video screens—about 2x my height—stretch the length of the indoor courtyard, suspended just below the second-floor banisters, and wrap around the length of all four sides.
Electronic art for nerds.
And despite how nervous I am, I can't help but smile. Three of the long panels each show a different live feed of the cult video games our squads are named after: Gauntlet, DOOM, and Contra. The massive gaming tournament is inclusive—all 90 PCs—and play is underway and being streamed from the second-floor terrace. The fourth screen, stretching end-to-end above the grand staircase, shows tournament brackets for the day's events.
Oh, and the best part...everyone is in character skins.
Between the three squads, The Breakers is brimming with magical wizards and elf's, scantily clad warriors wielding axes or guns, demonic creatures, and futuristic android soldiers. Mixed in the madness is a steady flow of guests invited by PCs to witness the spectacle.
Because Skin Wars is the pinnacle of Edric Landry's lavish love affair with his SIP of Greatness campaign. Or maybe himself. The heart of this extravaganza, in the center of the Great Hall, is a raised battle platform with no safety rails and enough LED lighting for a lunar landing. A foam pit surrounds the raised battle-zone where a demonic spider named Fydor is fighting a half-naked warrior with fake muscles adorning his chest and abs.
A gasp rolls across the crowded hall as Fydor takes a powerful swing with his double-sided battle stick and nearly decapitates the unmatched PC from Contra. He doesn't miss on the rebound as he spins—spider legs flailing around him—and lands a back-handed blow to the PC's chest that sends him flying into the foam pit.
Loud applause and jeers fill the make-shift arena from spectators, like me, crowded around the upper banister to the high-rise stands below surrounding the battle-zone. DOOM faithful yell out their cheer in celebration of Fydor's kill.
"DOOM, DOOM, killers will entomb, we are DOOM, bringers of gloom!"
Something tells me I'll be hearing a lot of that today.
As the next battle of PCs readies, my phone dings.
@Zahir: we are in place
I check the surveillance feed connected to my neural link and see a familiar wizard and sexy warrior hanging out by the stairs to the basement—Zahir and Isa. Too bad we didn't wear character skins every day. And not just because I'm Merlin. More so because my wizard's hat is brilliant at hiding Excalibur, and no one knows I have her. Not yet, anyway.
Not even G.
For now, she's just mine. And I like it that way.
@ZGreatWizard2: Access granted...proceed
After sending the message from my phone, I watch Isa swipe her ID and open the secure door to the basement. She and Zahir disappear down the stairs as the door closes behind them. And now I wait.
And watch.
On one of the large video screens, I see a feed of G in his elf skin. Not surprisingly, Randall is in a warrior skin that shows off all of his dancer's physique. They're playing the classic version of Contra and flying through the levels together like they've choreographed every move. Knowing Randall's obsession with precision, they probably have.
In the battle-zone, Niko is next. The boy doesn't need fake abs to pull off his savage warrior skin. His long, flowing hair and loin-cloth vibe brings a raucous cheer from the audience as he holds his battle axe high.
His opponent is Doomguy. The space marine skin is impressive, especially the vented helmet and moon boots. But when they're given padded battle-sticks, Niko canvases the floor like a jungle cat while the other PC trips on his over-sized boots and falls. As he struggles to stand up, Niko targets a batter's swing to the butt of Doomguy, sending him head over heals off the raised platform.
The battle is over in fifteen seconds.
Niko holds his hand to his ear and eggs the crowd on—a clear fan favorite.
"Merlin without magic, is that you?" Professor Atlas asks as he sidles up to the balcony—next to me. His red and white striped shirt makes him look like a candy cane.
"The one and only," I reply with a chuckle. "But today...I'm Merlin with magic!" I spin in my royal-blue cape, holding my velvety wizard's hat as I do so. The silver embroidered moon and stars are cool, but freak'n Merlin's beard—I finally have one...a beard!
His hands clap together in delight. "Of course—how could you not be? Your character skin is perfect—just per..." His voice trails off as the battle-zone below captures his attention.
A short, busty PC in a bikini skin from the 1994 Contra: Hard Corps edition is set to fight a taller elf that looks like her fitted, green skin is a couple sizes too small. The pair saunter around the platform, battle-sticks in hand, more intent on entertaining the crowd than on fighting each other.
"Skin wars..." Professor Atlas quips with a smile on his face. His gaze remains fixed on the girls below. "Never thought I'd say this—but Edric Landry got this one right."
"Totally," I agree. "I can't wait for tonight!"
@Isa: all set
Isa's message triggers a new round of butterflies in my stomach, and I'm ready to find a bathroom. Only as I step away from the banister, Professor Atlas asks, "So who'd you invite today—maybe that pretty butterfly girl I saw you dancing with at Fire & Ice?"
"Um...yeah," I say, a little creeped out that he remembers, and that he was watching me—maybe both. "But she won't be here until later tonight."
"You dog—good for you!" He slugs me in the arm. "I'm sure your mom is excited to be here, too."
"My Mom—what, no!" A half-laugh-half-snort bursts from me. "She hates this school. Anyway, um, good to see you...I've got to run."
But by the time I say the last bit, his focus is back on the girls in the battle-zone. The bikini warrior is chopping down the lanky elf with repeated blows, and the crowd is going crazy as she bounces around—all of her—landing blow after blow.
My stomach churns again; this time I really do run...to outrun the runs.
Freak'n Merlin's Beard...
Because I'm next!
YOU ARE READING
Merlin's Curse
Science Fiction[8X FEATURED] Merlin is the greatest-eleven-year-old nerd the world doesn't know because his name has cursed him--he's all parts nerd and zero parts magic and all he wants is to be cool. When Merlin hacks a new encryption code designed to protect on...
