How Far One Goes

Chapter 3

                                                          Luke's P.O.V.

A basket dissipated into existance, chock full of food. There was a note taped to it saying: This is the cheese. You are the rats. Fight for what you need to win.

...They always put stupid metaphorical stuff like that. I didn't know whether they were trying to mess with our heads, or if I just plain didn't get it.

...Maybe the second thingie...(-_-)

Six people stared at the basket. You could tell in each persons' hungry and desperate eyes, that deep down, they'd do anything for a bit of chow time.

The loser that was punching random people was the first one to snap out of their trance. Running toward the basket, he snatched it up, inserted his grimy fingers, and began wolfing down a peanut butter and banana sandwich. 

This seemed to snap everyone else out of their dreams/hallucinations, and they suddenly charged at the poor mishap that was about to get trampled.

Bits of food flew everywhere. I grimaced at what I imagined to be the final state of the single room. I was really hungry, yet for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to the almost cannibal state that everyone else was suddenly entering. 

Call me a fancy brat, or something, but the people that kept us here would have to push a bit harder, before I'd move along like everyone else.

Rose whispered to me, "Here, eat something. You look like you'd eat the basket!"

She tossed me a brisket sandwich, and I willingly obliged, after a short second of frantic decision making. I don't know whether lust (o_o) or appetite had been the main factor, but my mind changed pretty fast. 

As soon as the basket had appeared, it disappeared, once all of the food was eaten.

"Now that you and your greedy cohorts are finished wolfing down food like animals, we will hold an event. Before you decide not to participate, let me give you some motivation. For one, we have inserted a slight hint of poison inside the food that you've just eaten. It's not strong enough to kill, but it will give you some unpleasant side effects that will require you to go the restroom. We will not provide it for you."

Everyone looked around the room nervously. We held the bathroom previlege in high regard. It was right up there with food. 

"This is how it will work. In one hour, we will begin the first round of a fight to the death kind of tournament. There are no particular rules. The winner will receive a prize beyond their wildest imaginations. And we really mean that. This is something that you'd give up your life for."

"The lucky first two people to be duking it out are...Storm and Luke!" 

I stared at Rose. From the corner of my eye, I could see a girl whispering something to the guy that had been getting beat up from earlier. Was that her? 

"How am I going to play this out?" I asked Rose frantically. "I can't beat a girl!"

She shook her head. "What makes you so sure you can beat her?" She screeched at me. "Boys always think they're so great..."

..."What the heck are you saying? I'm not being sexist or anything like that!"

"Do you even know who Storm is? You've been in this room for about a month, yet I bet you can't name all six of us in here!"

I looked at her carefully. Was this coming out of nowhere, or did she seriously feel that? 

"Whatever. I'd wish you good luck in your fight, but apparently you don't need it."

She walked away from me, and headed toward who I assumed to be Storm. When did those two suddenly become buddies? And where had this frusturation come from?

I looked away, dumbfounded. Girls...who can understand them?

**Over where Rose is**

"Boys," she whispered to Storm. "Who can understand them?"