The Captive Game

Chapter 1

I am in a cell. That is the thought that I have woken up to for the last three hundred and sixty-four days of my imprisonment. Or at least that's what I used to wake up to; now I don't bother to wake up. My days flow into nights and my nights flow into and endless sea of dreamless sleep.

But my captors won't allow that.

No, they want me to truly suffer. They want me to be conscious as my mind turns to mush and my body slowly disintegrates, as I rot away in this cell next to my untouched meals. And so, being the truly gracious people that they are, they have assigned me a doctor. Every Monday at precisely seven o'clock Dr. Zaveri comes rolling in on his chair, clipboard in hand.

I'm sitting on the floor with my back resting against the concrete wall when Dr. Zaveri zips in.

"Hello, hello, hello! How is my favorite patient doing today?" he says in an overly cheerful voice. Sometimes I wonder if he is an idiot. How am I supposed to feel? I was kidnapped. Are most people rejoicing in being fed globs of rancid meat and deprived of showers?

I just glare at him. It's not that I necessarily dislike him. If I saw him under different circumstances I might actually enjoy his company. But, given the fact that I am stuck here and he is doing nothing about it, I can barely tolerate his attempts at humor and cheery smile.

He ignores my glare and continues. "Today is going to be little different. Don't worry, nothing bad." I just stare at him. "I've noticed that you haven't been eating much lately, which causes some concern. Lack of appetite can be a symptom of AIDS; lung disease; or severe heart, kidney, or liver failure." Or, I think to myself, being kidnapped and forced to live as a prisoner for a year.

"First off, I'll weigh you." he states, placing a scale on the ground.

Not "Can I weigh you?", just "I'll weigh you". I walk over to the scale, my bones creaking from not being used. I step up on the glass surface and look at the ceiling, anywhere but the dreaded numbers. I hear a small click and Dr. Zaveri scribbles something down.

"Okay, one hundre..." he starts to say.

"Don't!" I shout,cutting him off. And then, realizing I startled him, I add. "Please just don't tell me, okay? I don't want to know."

He gives me a weird look but nonetheless nods in confirmation. He slips a sheet off the clipboard and hands it to me with a pen.

"I said that I didn't want to..."

"Relax, that's not my sheet, it's a form that I was told to give you while I run over and pick up some papers. I'll be back in a moment." He scoots out on his chair and leaves me on the floor with the paper.

I look down at it and read the one sentence. The games are only beginning.

My thoughts jump to the horrible thing that they make me do each day and I look over at the crate on the opposite end of the room. I think of the hundreds of animals that have been in it, all dead now. That's why I won't eat the meat that they bring me. Deep down I know that it is the animal that I killed.

The games are only beginning. The games are only beginning. What could that mean?

The door to my cell slides open again and I look at the intruder, expecting Dr. Zaveri. Instead I see a soldier, gun in hand.

"Get up," he orders. "You know what to do."

I stand and walk over to the crate, a queasy feeling forming in my gut.

The soldier gives me a key and starts giving instructions. "Insert the key, open the box..."

"And retrieve my lunch." I finish, shooting daggers at him with my eyes. I do as he says and open the box, leaning closer to see what creature awaits me today. Inside is a small Deilenaar rabbit. It is hopping around in the crate, its nose scrunched up as it smells the air. It stops, just noticing me, and sniffs at my outstretched hand with its cold nose. I let out a giggle, for the moment forgetting where I am. I look up at the man, a smile still lingering on my face.

He hands me a pistol.