TRAIN [FIRST DRAFT]

Chapter 6: The Arena

                  

Eleven: the very top floor of GINM. On this floor was The Arena: an enormous field of fantasy and fiction, created as a training simulation for all GINM agents.

Stefan knew its guile and stratagem well. At the meagre age of ten, he had been sent into The Arena, into a game of Cat and Mouse, as murderous mirages of his parents chased after him. He had rummaged his way back to the doors a few hours after entering. Finding them in the first session was a rare thing in The Arena; the agents were normally let out. Stefan could consider it a victory, even though Buckley considered it cowardice.

To this day, Stefan could not understand why Buckley had sent him in at such a juvenile age. Most of the agents only trained in their twenties, even Aimee was too young.

"We'll only be inside for a few minutes," he said to her. "Are you ready?" he gripped the knob on the left door with his free hand.

"As I'll ever be," she murmured, holding the other doorknob.

Together, they pushed the doors apart. There was nothing but darkness beyond them, until they went into the cold room and shut the doors entirely. The whole world lit up as the sun suddenly blazed above their heads. At first, there was a simple maze of high, silver aluminium walls, but Aimee and Stefan watched them sink into the tiles reconditely and shape into an entirely different landscape. The walls on their left became a swamp-like forest, swathed with what seemed to be willow trees, draped with moss-covered leaves. Fireflies lit up the tree plantation that grew on their right, as the sun swiftly positioned in their north, where an ocean materialised. The sunlight speared down the stepping stones and cracked desert sand that reached their feet. Considering the dark, uninviting swamp and forest, the sunlit path was their guide. It led to the soft, airy beach sand that stretched out before the horizonless ocean. Aimee was totally spellbound.

"Is this real?" she asked in amazement.

Stefan's grasp on her hand tightened as he answered, "It appears to be real. That's what makes it dangerous."

Aimee bit her lip nervously as Stefan ogled the setting sun, which also appeared all too real. They strode along the stepping stone path. While Aimee observed the beauty that surrounded them, Stefan glimpsed around them periodically to see if their path had disappeared, or if they were being followed. Usually, only one person was allowed to enter The Arena at a time because opening the door meant reshaping the landscape. If that was the case, Stefan would realise the change. However, there were the regular occasions where 'people' were 'created' and placed in The Arena, there to influence the trainee's thoughts and clarity of mind.

Silence had fallen upon The Arena - Aimee and Stefan had been there for what felt like too long a time. The only sounds that met their ears were their own breaths and footsteps. The ocean, too, was distant and still, no matter how much closer they were to it.

"We should head back now," whispered Stefan.

"Are you sure?" she queried, looking into his eyes. They were alluring, bluer than the early evening sky itself, with hints of sparkling green.

He nodded, "Before we start hallucinating."

Her eyebrows rose and her hushed voice loudened, "Hallucinating?"

He put his index finger on her lips temporarily. "I'll explain once we're outside."

"Is outside not the least private place we could be?"

"No. We're not alone in here, Aimee," he stated. "There are cameras everywhere, camouflaged out of sight. This place is GINM's playground."

His words echoed in her head. She gulped, holding back her uninvited tears before they could leave her eyes. She glanced at Stefan's chest, straying from his eyes and blinking fleetingly. She released his hand.

"Hey," he uttered quietly, comfortingly, as he wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm always being watched," she expounded. "Abba told me that she's been spying on me for over thirteen years. And Buckley, how else would he know that I had a tournament last Saturday? And I figure you only enrolled at Ulysses S. to spy on me, too, right? I mean, come on, what am I doing here, Stefan? I shouldn't be here, I'm just... me."

They paused momentarily.

"D-do you regret a-all of this?" he stammered.

"No," she whispered and hugged him tighter, "of course not all of it. I just, I wish I didn't know about AIM, or GINM, or you being a spy. I wish I could carry on with my life without knowing that much. I don't need to know that my parents are alive and crazy, or that the whole of America's existence depends on me being with them."

"The whole of America's existence?" he asked.

Aimee released herself from his embrace, "You don't know?" – He shook his head – "Abba will destroy America unless I join AIM, or maybe even if I don't. I don't know for sure. I don't have a clue on how she plans to do it."

"Well, we'll figure it out together, okay?" he sighed sympathetically and gave her one last hug. "Let's get out of here, this whole building. We can go get ice-cream or something."

She took deep, calming breaths. "You sound like Emma," she smiled. "She loves ice-cream."

"Then I'll buy three and we can pay her a visit," he offered.

"You'd do that?" she inquired; it was a crazy, fantastic suggestion.

"I'd do anything for you," he caressed her cheek.

She believed him; she knew he was that kind of person. A part of her wished he was not that selfless when it came to her because that degree of selflessness could get him killed in this upcoming war, Domino Doomsday. Then it dawned on her that he had been exposed, frequently, to near-death scenarios, years before she had met him. But now she had, and she would not let him die for her.

They leisurely walked back to the alder doors, and out of The Arena, but Aimee knew that they would return soon. Stefan held the door and they watched the landscape wane as the aluminium walls reappeared. The bright 'sun' was really just a broad fluorescent light, faintly flickering on the ceiling above.

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A/N:

I remember first writing this chapter somewhere in grade 7 or grade 8, and it was one of my proudest pieces! It has been edited, needless to say, but I think I'll always see it as some of my best writing (in a not-vain kind of way). #^v^#

If you feel remotely the same way, please do Vote or Comment - do you like The Arena? Are you falling hard for Stefan? Any thoughts on my characters, what about Gavin? Let me know what you think ;)

Thank you! And happy reading!!!

Much love,

Ziya