"Vera Ferdinand and Imogen Daye versus Eleanora: the Maiden."
"This is a joke, yeah?" Imogen laughs as she steps into the arena. A cage encases the arena, in the center of it sits a girl and her mother. The little girl has hazy, grey eyes. She is resting in a wheelchair. Her shoulders spring as Imogen and Vera enter the cage.
"Mommy, are they in here?" she asks.
"Yes, Eleanora, your playmates are here." The mother looks with pity upon her daughter. She brushes hair from Eleanora's eyes.
"What do they look like? May I touch their faces?" Eleanora asks, reaching around for her mother.
"Don't try to trick me like that, Eleanora. I know you'll attack before the fight begins. That's not fair," her mother refuses.
"Eleanora has been blind since birth. She's mastered Spacial Sense and Telekinesis," Dominique clarifies. "I'm just worried that Imogen and Vera will take her lightly, considering she is a child. Do not take her lightly. Anything within range, she can kill using Telekinesis."
"Are they two ladies? I can sense that. The first lady is very skinny. Is she pretty?" Eleanora asks.
Her mother peers at Imogen. "Not as pretty as you."
"The other lady is build like man, isn't she? I had trouble sensing her. Mommy, is she strong?"
"Not as strong as you, dear."
"Mommy?"
"Yes, Eleanora?"
"Could you leave me and playmates alone for awhile? I want to play with them," Eleanora whines.
"No, I have to always stay with you."
"Mommy, I have to tell you a secret," Eleanora whispers.
"Eleanora, you don't have time for this. Don't you want to play with them?"
"Please, it will be really quick."
"Alright." Her mother leans in. Eleanora leans to her mother's ear, her eyes are gently shut as she places a hand on her mother's forehead. Her mother's eyes quickly dart open, panging with fear. "Eleanora! No!" Her mother screams and tries to hustle away, but a grey, transparent hand follows her. The fingers linger in the air as her mother crawls backward. The fingers squeeze her forehead until it bursts like a grape. Chunks of brain splatter around the room, gushing up red blood. Eleanora gathers her hands into a ball, her mother's fragments do likewise.
"She was getting in the way," Eleanora says, cold. "Ladies?" Eleanora calls out to the arena. Imogen and Vera remain silent. Vera has her hand clasped over her mouth, she sniffles tears. Eleanora looks without seeing directly at them. "I can sense where you are. You're forty five paces in front of me and a bit to the left. Are you ready to play?"
"What do you like to play?" Imogen waivers.
"Oh, let me show you!" Eleanora glares at her mother's corpse. The remains morph together to form a tight doll. The doll and her mother look eerily similar. They sport matching hair and the same eyes, with the last sight of fear glazed in them. "I love to play with dolls. The most fun is making them."
"You want us to play dolls with you?" Imogen asks.
"No."
"You want us to become your dolls."
"Yes."
Vera's eyes flicker, she retracts her sword from the carrying strap on her back. Vera sharpens the blade to a fine point. Anger glitters in her eyes. She makes a careless decision to charge directly at Eleanora.
