Paralyzed, I do nothing but stare dumbly as the tranquil arena erupts into chaos. Blood crawls across the ground like lava and the screams only make it seem like this field is a little slice of Hell. Hell with fluffy white clouds and green, green grass. There should be lambs hopping around innocently, with birds singing a melody to the azure skies. Instead, the lambs are replaced by children running, full of fear and adrenaline, and the screams and clashes of sword against sword provide the only music here.
I'm running, not having a clue what I am doing or where I am going. I have transformed into something new, a scared rabbit among foxes and snakes and the occasional lion. Then there are the wolves on the prowl as I run, taking advantage of the fact that everyone is here. Running as the wolves raise their claws and rip up their prey at random. Only the fleet-footed deer and birds would be safe, flying free as the wolves leave them for easier prey. Like me.
My head whips around to the right! To the left! There, don't you see? Of course you can, you must see them. A knife! A backpack! My life! I find myself running towards them. It could prove invaluable later on.
My hands have just brushed the wooden handle of the knife, the handle that feels like silk against my skin, when it's sent spinning away from me. Confused, I lunge for it but I'm sent face down into the ground. My tongue, pressed to the ground as it was, can feel each grain of dirt against it as one of the wolves, a Career, looms over me. I can barely make out his/ her features but I know that they are a Career. Whoever it is has the strength to snap my neck, I can feel it as their hand makes a chain around my neck, cutting off my air but not killing me. I come to the conclusion that they must be a boy. Or a man, it depends. But does it really matter? He flips me over but this doesn't give me any opportunity to escape. It's just so that I can see my killer.
He, I can say this for sure now, grins as he takes the knife. My knife, I recognise the handle. That was supposed to be me holding it, me hedging my survival on that knife. Well it looks like I had, and it had ended up with my death. The Career holds it against my throat, chuckling as I stare up at him with the courage of a fowl. I'm sure that he can feel every earthquake of terror that is happening inside me as I shiver. Except that I can't, I can't even do that. Why? Well I'm trapped, I'm encased and only falling deeper into trouble. I'm a fly in a spider-web.
As the metal kisses my throat, it leaves a bloodstained kiss.
That didn't even take a second.
My entire life flashes by in that fraction of a second. Nobody will ever know that, they will never know what thoughts passed though my mind in that split second. And all of this? It took ten seconds. The whole time in the arena once I had stepped off that plate took ten seconds.
Never underestimate a second. That was my mistake.
Don't make it yours.
This is my first drabble that I've done, so a constructive review shall not go amiss. Thanks for reading :)