Kill Team XIV.

Chapter 4.

They stared at the clothes like they didn't know what they were for anymore. It had been less than a week but it already felt like forever they'd been here. Then, Glaten glanced at Sleus and they all started staring at him instead. He sighed, then simply said:

"They're levelling us up."

"What?"

"It's a reward for killing the second victim. The first reward must have been the food, now they're adding to it."

Wras made a disgusted face at the notion of being rewarded for killing someone; the others shared the sentiment. Only Glaten didn't seem to notice as he stepped up to the table to start looking through the clothes. He held up a shirt that looked like more than twice his size, throwing it in Grid's direction, and continued sifting through the clothes until they all had a complete outfit. Glaten and Last changed cheerfully, the others more slowly, but finally, one corner of the room was crowded with dirty, smelly, sometimes bloody clothes. After that though, the mood dropped again, with nothing to occupy them, and silence descended upon the room.

Over the course of the day, Glaten kept rubbing a hand on his new shirt every so often, all while playing a game with Last and managing to drag Wras and Praid into it, so bored they all were. Grid had taken his top off, once again exercising, and Sleus slept, this time for real.

*

The next day was an arena day. They woke up to the alarm, read up on the target, and waited to be sent to the waiting room.

"You might want to share your plan before we get there this time," Praid told Sleus, trying at nonchalance but sounding commanding despite his half-assed efforts.

"It's still the same plan; get there, complete the mission, get the food, come back here," Sleus said, yawning halfway through.

"Fine, don't tell us then," Praid snapped. Sleus went back to reading his briefing packet.

Finally, they were directed to the waiting room. This time, the weapon left was a chain, heavy and sturdy. They did not touch it. They entertained themselves until the door opened. Then they walked to their base for the day, Grid carrying the chain. As they arrived, Praid once again spoke up:

"Now are you going to tell us?"

"I already did."

"You didn't, but clearly you know more than we do."

"I don't."

"No, Praid's right," Wras cut in, "the first day you planned it perfectly and didn't tell us. The second time, you said we'd see like you already knew what would happen but didn't want to say it. So why don't you tell us how you knew that would happen and what will happen this time."

"I didn't know, I said we'd see because we would and we did, and I don't know what will happen today any more than you do," Sleus said, now getting frustrated.

Glaten, near the windows, spoke up urgently.

"Someone's coming into the building!"

They hurriedly went to hide, right on time for a small girl to walk into the room. They all started to close in on her, when suddenly Last ran straight into the target, sending them both crashing to the floor. They struggled for a moment before Last managed to get the target on her back, Last straddling her. Then, she put her hands on the target's neck and squeezed, dark tattoos shifting along the muscles deep under them.

Glaten, looking shaken, gasped out:

"Shouldn't we stop her?"

"The mission is to kill her, I'm pretty sure that's what she's doing."

"But ...," he started, but stopped when he couldn't find a good reason beyond "this isn't right". None of this was, but nothing could change it.

Finally, the target fell limp and Last stood up, quickly walking away, blood sliding down her arms from where the target had tried to claw her way out of her grip.

"Did anyone else find this incredibly weird?" Praid asked.

No one answered. Sleus went to get the backpack and they all went to the next room to eat the food packets. Last didn't join them until it was time to go back to their room. No one said a word. Once in their quarters, Last went to lie down on her mattress with her back to the rest of the room. The others sat down on the mattress furthest from her, Wras'.

"What happened back there?" Praid asked, green eyes wide, incredulous.

"She enjoys it," Sleus stated, head titled back against the wall and eyes closed.

"What?" Glaten objected.

"The first target, she stared at her corpse like it was a piece of art. The second one, she bashed his head in like it was a sport. Now she choked someone to death. Every time, she looks happy while she does it."

"So how do we stop her?" Grid asked.

"We don't." Sleus answered.

We can't just let her kill all these people," Glaten said, "it isn't right".

"If she doesn't, we'll have to. At least she likes it and wants to do it."

Praid turned to Wars, so far silent.

"You're not protesting."

"Glaten's right, this is wrong," she said, tone defeated, "but all of this is wrong and if letting her go crazy, literally, and kill people, keeps us alive for two more days until we can get out of here, then there's nothing to do about it. It's not like any of us wants to do it anyway."

Praid nodded, agreeing with her. Glaten looked a little sick and went to sit on his own mattress, alone. Grid went back to his exercises again. Sleus, eventually, after Wras nudged him awake, also moved to his own spot. Praid kept sitting next to Wras.

*

The next day, as they woke up, they heard a shriek. They all jumped up, bodies buzzing with tension, only to see Glaten knelt in front of the table, looking at it like it was made of pizza (or gold, depending on your personal priorities). They watched as he lifted up a small cardboard box which contained a deck of cards like it was the most precious thing he's ever seen.

"I have been so bored"," he said reverently to the cards, "you are the best thing that has happened to me since I got kidnapped by crazy people!"

The others, assured that nothing was happening, took their new clothes from the table and changed.

The spent their day "furtively" glancing at Lastevery so often, while Glaten begged each of them to play with him. Sleus justslept.