“Bad day for a walk?” The man met me with a puzzled expression. Then he laughed. “Yeah, I guess it fuckin’ is. I was on my way to the park, actually, before I got caught up in whatever the hell this is. Names Will by the way. Friends call me Willie though.” He offered a smile, one that I returned as best I could, but I didn’t feel like smiling, and I shook his hand.

“Good to meet you, Willie. You have any idea what’s going on?” I stared over the crowd filtering in through the tool booth as I asked.

“I figured you would, man. You ex-military? You have that… aura of authority. Jumping into leadership like that…” He trailed off.

I laughed at that. “Naw man. I’m all private sector. These things freak me out as much as anyone.” I said, and the conversation trailed off into silence as the rest of the crowd made its way through the gate.

“What now?” Willie asked after a moment of silence. I noticed that a lot of the gathered crowd was looking towards us. I turned away from the entrance, looking further down— there was a building in the distance, dim lights flickering on the outside.

“Now we go forward.” I gripped the sword in my hand, leading the procession of people forward. There were fences on either side of us, and gravel and dirt crunched under our feet. I couldn’t see more than a few feet beyond the fence line, the horizon shrouded in mist, and the distance between the fences was just wide enough for a car. We were being corralled— and we had no choice but to obey.

The fence ended to a single entrance to the building, and I turned back to look at Willie. He nodded. I pushed the door open—

“Hey!” I nearly jumped. The drunken man from earlier was sitting right inside the door. “Wow, you made it! I saw someone got a high score—“ he leaned out the door, observing the huge crowd of people. “Oh. Damn. Lots of people survived the first round.”

“The first round?” I asked, fumbling to press the retract button on the pocket sword I had gotten from the briefcase.

“Yeah, the first round! Get inside here, lug.” He grabbed my shoulder, leading me inside while leaning against me. He had a backpack on his back now. I looked back to Willie, who shrugged, following us.

The inside of the room wasn’t illuminated, save for the middle, where a dim orange light barely illuminated the center of a huge room. It looked almost like an old, abandoned mall with the lights out.

“What’s going on?” I ventured.

“You’ve made it into the Grand Games, a life or death— a life or death competition! My name is V by the way. Theres a policy of not giving out your name until after the first game. Normally… not quite so many people make it.”

“But I didn’t sign up for— I mean, I didn’t try to join anything like that.” I asked.

“Don’t you want to know what the prize is?”

“No, I’d rather get out of here.”

He smiled, leaning in towards me, and I smelled the alcohol on his breath. “The prize is superhuman power!”

“That’s great!” Willie clapped. “Where is the exit?”

The man frowned as he turned to face Willie. “There is no exit. Yet.” The drunk man turned to the entrance where the crowd was slowly milling its way in, and as if on cue, the last person made it through the door, which slammed shut behind them. There was a sound like grinding, and it suddenly felt like being inside of an elevator, and then all of the lights began to flash to life.

It was the inside of an old mall, though not abandoned. Storefronts lit up along the halls of the place.

“No, the exit wont open for almost a month.” The drunk nodded sagely. “Maybe more?”

“What do you mean, superhuman power?” I frowned. “Like, comic books?”

“Naw… more like, you know, video games?” V paused. “”

“Stats? Like… like dungeons and dragons?” Willie asked.

“What are you drinking?” I asked.

The man looked at me, widened his eyes, and then reached back into his backpack, pulling out an unmarked glass bottle full of clear liquid. He unscrewed the top, offering it to me, and the scent of apple and booze washed over what felt like the room, strong enough that my face squinted involuntarily.

I looked up at the mans face, which held a soft smile, then to Willie, who looked immediately concerned. Then I looked around the room.

I needed a strong drink to get through whatever this was, so I grabbed the bottle from his hand, thinking to drink first and hesitate later.

It didn’t taste remotely like apple— it tasted like fire, stinging my throat, and I almost dropped the bottle, but V caught it deftly, and I was coughing.

“What the hell—“ I coughed, “Is that?”

“Family recipe!” V smiled, all teeth this time. “Home made moonshine!” V offered the bottle to Willie, who immediately stepped back.

“No thanks.”

I coughed, stepping away, my eyes watering. “I just need a minute.” I said, walking away to clear my head— and nose and throat.

I paced along the wall at the edge of the dead mall. At just above my shoulder height were windows, blocked with iron bars that only let a shred of dim moonlight through. On the other side, mist swirled and pushed against the glass, as if forced around by raging winds. Eventually, I came to a door. I hadn’t paid much attention to the doors coming in; it looked like a bank vault door, inches of solid steel pressed into the wall.

It would probably be easier to go through the concrete on the wall.

If I headed out this way, then followed the train tracks… I could probably make it out. I tested the door, pushing and pulling on it, but it wouldn’t so much as budge. I kept walking until the wall turned, walking passed store fronts that lit up as I walked by, under a balcony from the shops on the second tier. Shop dealers in masks leaned over counters or stood behind store fronts, their faces following me as I moved from walking to jogging through the building until I found another exit. I pushed on it, and was met with nothing— it was as solid as stone.

My eyes traced the walls and store fronts. Each store front was covered in glass and iron bars, save for a narrow window to trade material through. No getting out through their back rooms, then. I doubted trying to take down a store front was a good idea— the memory of the toll booth admin cutting someone down with a sword flashed through my mind.

I finally stopped, finding a couch in an open seating area, and sitting down. I ran my fingers through my hair. The open seating the old mall brought back a sick sense of nostalgia, one that was totally unwelcome here.

Back in the 90s, malls like these would be packed. They would be the place everyone met up on a Friday or Saturday, before we had the convenience of being able to contact anyone at anytime.

In a way, it made people less available.

The smell of food wafting over me made me look up and around. I heard an eerie, slow moving sound of wheels rolling over the patterned tiles of the— what did V call it? The Bullpen’s floors.

Eventually, the cart and its masked attendant stopped in front of me, looking down at me. It seemed almost expectant, but I couldn’t see its expression behind its mask.

I looked down at the cart. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to eat anything from this cursed place— but my stomach rumbled at the scent. The last thing I ate was this morning before the train.

“Uh, are they, free?” I asked, staring at the man hopefully, who paused behind his mask, sizing me up.

“One token for a meal.”

“Alright, how do I transfer it to you? Do I just—“ The token menu appeared in my screen, flashed, and decreased by one. “Huh. Okay, do you have a menu?” Even as I asked, the server was already slapping together a hot dog, loading it up. He shoved it into my hand with a bottle of water and began pushing the cart away. I looked at his back.

He put ketchup on my hot dog.

Bastard.