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DA BattleRoyale 2013-2014 Chapter 1: Caelin vs. Emily
(Speech in italics are in a non-english language.)

Caelin picked at the weird metallic object on her neck. She knew metal from the cans and hiking equipment people threw away near her territory, but never before had she felt something so hard and so sharp besides some stones she cracked open. And it buzzed. An incessant, annoying little high-pitched buzz around the same pitch as that of a mosquito. She wondered how the city-humans, with their glossy black coats and shiny blue ties, tolerated the sound. When she had tried to take it off, they shouted some things at her, but she had no clue what they were saying. So she tried to tell them that. But again, they glared at her, if not quizzically, and uttered some more sounds. They seemed to understand her blank stare though, and one of them pointed at themselves and said “Leader”. Of course, she recognized this word – it was a name that she’d overheard many times from hikers and climbers that ventured too near to her lands. So she pointed at herself, and said the first word that they understood: “Caelin”.

So now she was in some sort of room, in a strange abode, floating above the water, surrounded by wooden cylinders. And there was someone else with her, in that same room. They had taken her turtle, to what fate she did not know. It was the closest thing to family, and the apparent rules of this game were that if she was to win, she would get her turtle back.

The city-humans had spoken of another name – Emily? – that she did not recognize. One thing was for sure, though, whoever Emily was, it was in the same room. From the sound of its voice, Emily was a girl. She was scrambling around, half dazed, and Caelin kept her hawk-like eyes on her. It was dark and dusty in this room, so shrouds of dirt and grime were kicked up by the frantic city-human. The hatchet that she carelessly dropped clattered loudly on the wooden floor, which creaked as Emily scrambled to pick it up.
“Hey, you!” shouted Caelin, hoping to catch the attention of Emily. It was obvious that she did, but she wasn’t sure if Emily understood her. Caelin tried again. “Stop struggling! You’re kicking up dust everywhere!”

Now it was obvious that Emily did not know what she was saying. A blank stare was the only response Caelin got. Sighing, Caelin attempted to use her extremely limited knowledge of the city-human language to speak. “…st…stop.”

“Who… who are you?” asked Emily, hesitantly approaching Caelin.

“Me… Caelin.”

“Caelin?”

Caelin nodded vigorously, and pointed at Emily. “Emily.”

Emily wasn’t sure if she wanted to smile or run away. The realization that she was in a sort of killing game began to dawn on her; this was something that rumors had told about in her school. The game was like a tournament, but only the last one alive would win. Killing your opponent was the only way to escape death, which in itself was ironic.
For Caelin, her only understanding of this ‘game’ was that her turtle was waiting for her. But as she formulated her sentence, she noticed a change in the eyes of Emily. No longer was Emily a frightened, shy, and nervous girl – her eyes now had the hesitant spark of a killer, like a spluttering flame trying to grab hold of something to burn. Upon recognizing this, Caelin allowed her animal instincts to kick in.

The irregular metallic object which the city-people had given her weighed heavily on Caelin’s back. They had given it a peculiar name, a sharp sound that ended with something softer. Whatever it was, Caelin knew it was meant to be used as a single tool, but she had already mentally taken it apart. A long, elastic cord, several long metallic sticks, and some other bits of metal and plastic. She hadn’t taken it apart yet, but with her raccoon-like lockpicking skills it wouldn’t be a difficult matter.

Emily seemed to notice the object as Caelin bent down to all fours, lightly tiptoeing and ready to pounce. “Is that a crossbow?”

The flame in Emily’s eyes burst into a flurry of courage and tenacity as she finally confirmed that she was indeed in a Battle Royale. She gripped her hatchet tightly in her right hand, eyeing the little girl with her left eye.

The atmosphere of the room had abruptly changed from a nervous, timid aura to a now hostile (and one may even say flammable) sensation. Emily was the one with the advantage – she knew the game, she knew the rules. Caelin would have to learn about this ruthless killing machine.

Emily muttered a quick “sorry” before lunging at Caelin, swinging her hatchet down with extreme precision. Caelin crashed into some barrels nearby as she dodged the attack, narrowly avoiding the sharp blade. The hatchet sunk into the wooden floor like a hot knife into butter, and Emily yanked it out with ease.

“Why are you fighting me?” growled Caelin, unaware that she had slipped back into her own tongue. Emily seemed to hesitate when Caelin spoke, as if afraid of killing something so innocent, but the ferocity returned as she reminded herself that killing Caelin was the only way to stay alive. She threw the hatchet with blinding speed towards Caelin, whose quick reactions left her with a cut shoulder instead of a sliced heart.

Caelin howled in pain, but embraced the waves of adrenaline that honed her animal instincts and wild behaviors to the point where any normal human would have gone insane. The dark room was no longer dark, the barrels became a maze of hiding spots, and the crossbow had transformed into an array of various weapons. Caelin’s muscles rippled as she tore the crossbow in two, separating the bow-like structure from the rifle-like structure, and she wielded the rifle-like structure as a club. The hatchet remained embedded in the barrel to her left, blood slowly running down the barrel and staining the floor a bright crimson. She grabbed that as well, and made her first attack at Emily.

The club came as a surprise to the panting Emily, who received it with the bridge of her nose. Her eyes watered and blood began to flow down over her mouth, and she seemed to receive the same adrenaline boost. Her vision cleared, her field of view broadened, and Caelin’s movements seemed to be much slower. Emily suddenly realized that not only had the blow given her a boost, it had torn off the eye-patch as well. Although her eyesight from her right eye usually suffered, it seemed to be even more analytical and precise than her left. With a renewed determination and improved reactions, she turned to face Caelin-
--
Caelin laid sprawled out on the ruby floor. The adrenaline had long subsided, and her muscles were beginning to feel the pain of inhumanly exertion. Emily lay a few feet away, chest slit open by her own weapon. It had been several minutes since the finishing blow, and Caelin had some time to think. There was no reason for Emily to have attacked her. In the flame that was her strength, she also hid feelings of regret and hatred. Caelin wondered what this all meant. Perhaps this was some part of the game.

She sat up slowly, feeling the ache within her pulled muscles and stretching those that had overexerted. The crossbow was no longer functional, but she had created two weapons from it. The bow might not be to useful, she reasoned, but it may come in handy at some point. The rifle-like structure, which she decided would be used as a bludgeon, would be a very useful close-combat weapons. Groaning, Caelin crawled to where the hatchet stuck buried in layers of flesh and still-warm scarlet liquid and pulled it out of the mutilated corpse. Emily was a beautiful girl… it was a shame this had to happen.

Caelin decided to keep the hatchet, a small axe she recognized from various encounters with hikers. They usually used it to chop small branches off trees, but she had always believed they’d be better off snapping the twigs off and using the metal tool for hunting.

Finally, as her senses returned to normal, Caelin remembered her turtle. Maybe now that she no longer had an aggressor, she had won the game and would be reunited with him.

She could only hope.

Description
DA BattleRoyale 2013-2014 Chapter 1: Caelin vs. Emily
(Speech in italics are in a non-english language.)

Caelin picked at the weird metallic object on her neck. She knew metal from the cans and hiking equipment people threw away near her territory, but never before had she felt something so hard and so sharp besides some stones she cracked open. And it buzzed. An incessant, annoying little high-pitched buzz around the same pitch as that of a mosquito. She wondered how the city-humans, with their glossy black coats and shiny blue ties, tolerated the sound. When she had tried to take it off, they shouted some things at her, but she had no clue what they were saying. So she tried to tell them that. But again, they glared at her, if not quizzically, and uttered some more sounds. They seemed to understand her blank stare though, and one of them pointed at themselves and said “Leader”. Of course, she recognized this word – it was a name that she’d overheard many times from hikers and climbers that ventured too near to her lands. So she pointed at herself, and said the first word that they understood: “Caelin”.

So now she was in some sort of room, in a strange abode, floating above the water, surrounded by wooden cylinders. And there was someone else with her, in that same room. They had taken her turtle, to what fate she did not know. It was the closest thing to family, and the apparent rules of this game were that if she was to win, she would get her turtle back.

The city-humans had spoken of another name – Emily? – that she did not recognize. One thing was for sure, though, whoever Emily was, it was in the same room. From the sound of its voice, Emily was a girl. She was scrambling around, half dazed, and Caelin kept her hawk-like eyes on her. It was dark and dusty in this room, so shrouds of dirt and grime were kicked up by the frantic city-human. The hatchet that she carelessly dropped clattered loudly on the wooden floor, which creaked as Emily scrambled to pick it up.
“Hey, you!” shouted Caelin, hoping to catch the attention of Emily. It was obvious that she did, but she wasn’t sure if Emily understood her. Caelin tried again. “Stop struggling! You’re kicking up dust everywhere!”

Now it was obvious that Emily did not know what she was saying. A blank stare was the only response Caelin got. Sighing, Caelin attempted to use her extremely limited knowledge of the city-human language to speak. “…st…stop.”

“Who… who are you?” asked Emily, hesitantly approaching Caelin.

“Me… Caelin.”

“Caelin?”

Caelin nodded vigorously, and pointed at Emily. “Emily.”

Emily wasn’t sure if she wanted to smile or run away. The realization that she was in a sort of killing game began to dawn on her; this was something that rumors had told about in her school. The game was like a tournament, but only the last one alive would win. Killing your opponent was the only way to escape death, which in itself was ironic.
For Caelin, her only understanding of this ‘game’ was that her turtle was waiting for her. But as she formulated her sentence, she noticed a change in the eyes of Emily. No longer was Emily a frightened, shy, and nervous girl – her eyes now had the hesitant spark of a killer, like a spluttering flame trying to grab hold of something to burn. Upon recognizing this, Caelin allowed her animal instincts to kick in.

The irregular metallic object which the city-people had given her weighed heavily on Caelin’s back. They had given it a peculiar name, a sharp sound that ended with something softer. Whatever it was, Caelin knew it was meant to be used as a single tool, but she had already mentally taken it apart. A long, elastic cord, several long metallic sticks, and some other bits of metal and plastic. She hadn’t taken it apart yet, but with her raccoon-like lockpicking skills it wouldn’t be a difficult matter.

Emily seemed to notice the object as Caelin bent down to all fours, lightly tiptoeing and ready to pounce. “Is that a crossbow?”

The flame in Emily’s eyes burst into a flurry of courage and tenacity as she finally confirmed that she was indeed in a Battle Royale. She gripped her hatchet tightly in her right hand, eyeing the little girl with her left eye.

The atmosphere of the room had abruptly changed from a nervous, timid aura to a now hostile (and one may even say flammable) sensation. Emily was the one with the advantage – she knew the game, she knew the rules. Caelin would have to learn about this ruthless killing machine.

Emily muttered a quick “sorry” before lunging at Caelin, swinging her hatchet down with extreme precision. Caelin crashed into some barrels nearby as she dodged the attack, narrowly avoiding the sharp blade. The hatchet sunk into the wooden floor like a hot knife into butter, and Emily yanked it out with ease.

“Why are you fighting me?” growled Caelin, unaware that she had slipped back into her own tongue. Emily seemed to hesitate when Caelin spoke, as if afraid of killing something so innocent, but the ferocity returned as she reminded herself that killing Caelin was the only way to stay alive. She threw the hatchet with blinding speed towards Caelin, whose quick reactions left her with a cut shoulder instead of a sliced heart.

Caelin howled in pain, but embraced the waves of adrenaline that honed her animal instincts and wild behaviors to the point where any normal human would have gone insane. The dark room was no longer dark, the barrels became a maze of hiding spots, and the crossbow had transformed into an array of various weapons. Caelin’s muscles rippled as she tore the crossbow in two, separating the bow-like structure from the rifle-like structure, and she wielded the rifle-like structure as a club. The hatchet remained embedded in the barrel to her left, blood slowly running down the barrel and staining the floor a bright crimson. She grabbed that as well, and made her first attack at Emily.

The club came as a surprise to the panting Emily, who received it with the bridge of her nose. Her eyes watered and blood began to flow down over her mouth, and she seemed to receive the same adrenaline boost. Her vision cleared, her field of view broadened, and Caelin’s movements seemed to be much slower. Emily suddenly realized that not only had the blow given her a boost, it had torn off the eye-patch as well. Although her eyesight from her right eye usually suffered, it seemed to be even more analytical and precise than her left. With a renewed determination and improved reactions, she turned to face Caelin-
--
Caelin laid sprawled out on the ruby floor. The adrenaline had long subsided, and her muscles were beginning to feel the pain of inhumanly exertion. Emily lay a few feet away, chest slit open by her own weapon. It had been several minutes since the finishing blow, and Caelin had some time to think. There was no reason for Emily to have attacked her. In the flame that was her strength, she also hid feelings of regret and hatred. Caelin wondered what this all meant. Perhaps this was some part of the game.

She sat up slowly, feeling the ache within her pulled muscles and stretching those that had overexerted. The crossbow was no longer functional, but she had created two weapons from it. The bow might not be to useful, she reasoned, but it may come in handy at some point. The rifle-like structure, which she decided would be used as a bludgeon, would be a very useful close-combat weapons. Groaning, Caelin crawled to where the hatchet stuck buried in layers of flesh and still-warm scarlet liquid and pulled it out of the mutilated corpse. Emily was a beautiful girl… it was a shame this had to happen.

Caelin decided to keep the hatchet, a small axe she recognized from various encounters with hikers. They usually used it to chop small branches off trees, but she had always believed they’d be better off snapping the twigs off and using the metal tool for hunting.

Finally, as her senses returned to normal, Caelin remembered her turtle. Maybe now that she no longer had an aggressor, she had won the game and would be reunited with him.

She could only hope.