HOME | DD

Description
"Listen up, fuck-smudges! Welcome to Camp." I pause dramatically, just long enough to get the idiots locked to their chairs thinking about what I'm saying. Then I start back up, pacing in front of the fools.

"I say welcome, but I don't mean it. You're not welcome here. No one is. That you come from the outside just makes some of us that started out here want you dead even more. They enjoy the fact that you'll be as easy to kill as the little Novas who come out fresh.

"You are all four years older than Novas. In my mind, that makes you all one thing: Fucking pathetic. Outside, maybe there's something other than fighting. You might even be good at whatever the hell you craps thought you did. Guess what, though? In here: nobody gives a fuck.

"Now, I have to train you worthless sacs of meat. Don't misunderstand me here, nancies. I don't care about any of you anything special, and I damn sure don't love a one of you.

"But I still plan to train you so at least half of you don't die worthlessly in the first game you're dropped into. Again, this isn't 'cause I love you. I want you to stay alive because I'm the one training you. It's a point of pride. If you all die right away, I look bad. And fuck you all, I don't look bad. I'm a year older than all of you and have the fucking scars to prove it.

"I'm bigger than you. I'm meaner than you. I'm fucking better than you in every goddamned way, and if you want to stay alive long enough to try and argue that point, you'll goddamn well have to listen to whatever I fucking tell you to do.

"Momma's not here anymore, which means you're all motherless sons of--"

"And daughters!"

I was cut off. That doesn't fly. Turning, I locate the offender. I walk up to her slowly, then lean in close to her seated form. Quietly, calmly, I ask, "What was that, Genesia?"

"Motherless sons and daughters," she says, looking back without flinching. At least she has spirit. Let's see how this filly breaks.

I grab her shirtfront and lift her one-handed until she's eye to eye with me. Chair and all. Some of the others make surprised noises, but she stays quiet. "Did I say you could talk?" I bark. Before she can answer I shake her silent. "What is your name and number, bitch?"

She glares at me, then says, "My name's Missy Cooper. I don't do numbers."

I laugh. "Oh you don't, do you? I don't think I much care what you do or not. Now there's twenty crap-sacs here, so you're ..." I pause to check the line, "... seven of twenty. Remember that number, Genesia. It's the one you'll be getting fed to. Skip numbers all you want. It won't hurt my feelings."

She spits at my face. Misses, but it's the thought that counts. I slam her back down to the ground, probably stinging her cuffed wrists and ankles, not to mention the bruising to ass and shoulder blades.

I straighten up and return to general address. "So. You all don't like dealing with me. Good. Camp's rough, and the less I have to deal with you all the better. You wanna spite me? Get yourselves fucking killed. It's the biggest insult you can give me. But guess what? You dying is something that won't bug me as much as me missing a meal.

"Some of you may think you've had it rough outside. In here, we call the crap you've gone through primer. It's just enough to get you into realizing when you're in trouble.

"Like now. I'm supposed to give a simple, relatively non-lethal example of what Camp is like. And I've even got a volunteer." I look back down at Seven of Twenty. "Seven, what would you say to a little rope-climbing?"

"I can climb the one behind you easily enough. It'd take like two minutes."

I look back at the rope--really, two ropes--in mock surprise. "Really?" I ask mockingly. "That's just what I wanted to hear."

I pulled two bands, one red and the other blue, from my pocket. The blue one, I strapped to Seven's ankle. Then I turned and started to walk away. "But first, let me introduce you all to an old friend of mine." I pulled the mannequin out. "This is Mr. Cement, and he's a stone man through and through. Watch what happens when I put this collar on him." I flip the red band around his neck and it snaps on. I start to walk back to the others.

"Now these collars, they're pretty nice. Magnetic locking coupled with a hardener means that once they're on, there's only one way to get them off." I lift my hand, and they all see the detonator I hold. "Watch closely, I won't be repeating this."

I push the button and the red band bursts, cleanly severing Mr. Cement's head from his body. An audible gasp sounds behind me and then, I know, they turn to stare at Seven's new anklet.

I turn back on them and smile like a shark. "Cut right the fuck through. And that's stone. Imagine what it could do to you. It ain't half that clean."

I bend down to look the now queasy-looking Seven in the face. "I hope you like your new accessory. I gave you blue because it matches your eyes. A girl's gotta look good, right?"

I stand and start to pace again. "But they're not really all just like that. Reds are remote detonated. Blues have timers.

"In fact, as soon as Seven gets out of that chair, she'll have three hundred seconds--five minutes--before it blows." The collective gasp of horror was very satisfying. "Yes. That's right. And how do you think that'll look? Fucking glorious."

I turned back to Seven. "But there is one other thing. You can deactivate it. And guess what? I'm even willing to give you the chance.

"Tell you what you gotta do: That rope? At the top of it's a button. Get to the top and press it, and your jewelry won't take off your leg."

I stop in front of the shocked Seven. "Uh-oh. Now there's pressure. Think you're up for it? Can you still do two minutes?"

She looks at me, putting on an infuriated look to mask her fear. Good, still some fight left in her. "Fuck you, asshole. Yeah, I can still do it."

I lean in close and silkily say, "Good." I reach behind her and push a switch. The cuffs unlatch, and there's an audible tone from the band. "Five minutes."

I step out of her way and address the others. "Feel free to cheer Seven on. Or shout her down. Hell, I don't care." She reaches the rope and starts climbing quickly. "This's gonna be fun."

Seven got a quarter of the way up before she was hit by something hard. A training ball we use here. One of the outsiders I met once called them heavy 'medicine' balls. I hit him in the mouth with one and said that they had stupid medicine Outside. I had a dozen of these balls, and had thrown them all at Seven by the time she reaches the three-quarter mark, and I'd taken to randomly shaking the rope as well. Every ball had hit. Some of the kids had started cheering her on loudly, telling her to ignore me and such crap.

The thirteenth ball I throw at her actually has power put into it, and when it hits her between the shoulder blades, Seven looses her grip and starts to fall. She screams, and the others go silent as she drops like a stone.

I catch her roughly. "That's your one save. Did I forget to mention that any sudden jarring could set this thing off? Three minutes."

Seven swings back to punch me, but I let her arm's momentum roll her out of my arms. She believes what I said, though, because she catches herself without using that leg before she jumps back for the rope. The rest of the party cheers her on.

I pace at the bottom, yelling for her to hurry up until she's a third of the way up. When she reaches that point, I grab a switch and start climbing the second rope. The kids yell for her to hurry, and a couple actually start throwing insults my way. Probably think it'll distract me or something. But by the time she's reached the half-way point, I'm next to her, hitting her with the switch and telling her to hurry up.

Seven starts to look scared at the two-third mark. It's taken her two minutes to get to that point with me attacking her. She has forty-five seconds left. Doubt starts to creep in when I remind her of the time. When she redoubles her efforts, I let her start to pull ahead of me. The switching stops as I climb beside her.

Twenty seconds to go and she's got five before she reaches the top. So I hit her again. She must have been concentrating real hard, because the lash across her shoulders makes her lose her grip again.

This time, there's no one below her to catch her. I'm too far away to help either. I start to climb back down, but she catches herself with her leg tangled in the rope. She flips back up and starts to climb again.

Ten. I start sliding back down. She'll probably make it.

Nine. Three more pulls and she'll be up.

Eight. I'm at the halfway point and start swinging on the rope.

Seven. Her number. She reaches the top and sees that the button has a cap over it.

Six. She fiddles with the cap, then hits it sideways to break it.

Five. Two more hits send the cap spinning down to the ground.

Four. Seven pushes the large button, but can't get it to move. I hear her surprise.

Three. She punches up on the button.

Two. She yells as she hits it again. It slides up.

One. There's a second tone, the same as the first. All twenty kids sigh.

Zero. The kids on the ground see a bright flash, and then are hit by a piercing shriek. Seven screams in pain and lets go of the rope.

As she drops, I swing back out and catch her. I slide down the rope as the idiots latched to the ground are yelling all sorts of colorfully at me. The flash has blinded them, so they think the worst when I drop from the one-quarter mark and land with a thud.

When their eyes clear, nineteen heads turn to see me holding Seven under my arm like a sack of crap. There was still a slight electrical residue from the explosion, and it crackled up her legs and into me, making the muscles on my arm twitch wildly.

I put the unconscious Seven back into her seat and lock her back in. The others are silent. Whether in fear of her death or relief she still had her leg, I don't know. It doesn't really matter to me. The electricity loosened her up, and the two sitting on either side of her are jarred by the scent of her piss.

"So what do you little fucks think, huh? That is the nicest I'll ever be to any of you. Here on out, if I say it'll fucking take your leg off, it'll fucking take your goddamn leg off!" I yell so loudly that those closest to me jump. "This isn't a game. What's more, you don't have a goddamn choice in the matter except one: fight or die. When you're put on the Field, the odds'll be against you. At first it'll be because you don't know your elbow from your asshole, and inexperience is disadvantage enough. As you get better, the rules'll change. They'll fuck with you in any way they can think of. Something like today is a possibility. Except instead of the shock knocking you out, it'll probably just paralyze you long enough for someone to come up and open your chest up with a goddamned bowie knife.

"Only one person can keep you from being so fucked that you die embarrassingly easy. Only one person can get you sad crap-sacs ready to stay alive whatever happens here. Only one person can give you the tools you need to survive. And that person is me.

"You don't have to like me. I don't expect you to. I don't want you to. There's no fucking reason for you to like me. The only people you can trust are the ones beside you right now. And that won't last long. They're your friends now, but if you trust them too much, it'll hurt that much more when they turn on you.

"If you ever--ever--find someone you can trust completely, you cry your fucking eyes out for them, because they're as good as dead. And probably because of, if not by, you. This is the Camp. We're here for one reason and one reason alone: to fucking die. You wanna buck the system, you gotta play by the rules. You gotta get so fucking good that they can't kill you. And then you gotta find a way to leave."

I calm my voice. "Don't get your hopes up. It's never been done. Hell, I don't think it's possible. But if anyone can do it ... it's me. And if you think you want out, you listen to what I have to say. Maybe someday you'll be good enough to find a way out too."

The kids are all scared. Of course they are. Newlins and Genesia just got their lives ripped away. But the fear can help. And I can't just hold their hands and tell them it's all right. So I'll break them until they're hard enough to do the breaking, then let them loose to see how they do.

"My name's Eddy. You can also call me Nil. Today I get the name Faramond. Let's get to work."

Description
"Listen up, fuck-smudges! Welcome to Camp." I pause dramatically, just long enough to get the idiots locked to their chairs thinking about what I'm saying. Then I start back up, pacing in front of the fools.

"I say welcome, but I don't mean it. You're not welcome here. No one is. That you come from the outside just makes some of us that started out here want you dead even more. They enjoy the fact that you'll be as easy to kill as the little Novas who come out fresh.

"You are all four years older than Novas. In my mind, that makes you all one thing: Fucking pathetic. Outside, maybe there's something other than fighting. You might even be good at whatever the hell you craps thought you did. Guess what, though? In here: nobody gives a fuck.

"Now, I have to train you worthless sacs of meat. Don't misunderstand me here, nancies. I don't care about any of you anything special, and I damn sure don't love a one of you.

"But I still plan to train you so at least half of you don't die worthlessly in the first game you're dropped into. Again, this isn't 'cause I love you. I want you to stay alive because I'm the one training you. It's a point of pride. If you all die right away, I look bad. And fuck you all, I don't look bad. I'm a year older than all of you and have the fucking scars to prove it.

"I'm bigger than you. I'm meaner than you. I'm fucking better than you in every goddamned way, and if you want to stay alive long enough to try and argue that point, you'll goddamn well have to listen to whatever I fucking tell you to do.

"Momma's not here anymore, which means you're all motherless sons of--"

"And daughters!"

I was cut off. That doesn't fly. Turning, I locate the offender. I walk up to her slowly, then lean in close to her seated form. Quietly, calmly, I ask, "What was that, Genesia?"

"Motherless sons and daughters," she says, looking back without flinching. At least she has spirit. Let's see how this filly breaks.

I grab her shirtfront and lift her one-handed until she's eye to eye with me. Chair and all. Some of the others make surprised noises, but she stays quiet. "Did I say you could talk?" I bark. Before she can answer I shake her silent. "What is your name and number, bitch?"

She glares at me, then says, "My name's Missy Cooper. I don't do numbers."

I laugh. "Oh you don't, do you? I don't think I much care what you do or not. Now there's twenty crap-sacs here, so you're ..." I pause to check the line, "... seven of twenty. Remember that number, Genesia. It's the one you'll be getting fed to. Skip numbers all you want. It won't hurt my feelings."

She spits at my face. Misses, but it's the thought that counts. I slam her back down to the ground, probably stinging her cuffed wrists and ankles, not to mention the bruising to ass and shoulder blades.

I straighten up and return to general address. "So. You all don't like dealing with me. Good. Camp's rough, and the less I have to deal with you all the better. You wanna spite me? Get yourselves fucking killed. It's the biggest insult you can give me. But guess what? You dying is something that won't bug me as much as me missing a meal.

"Some of you may think you've had it rough outside. In here, we call the crap you've gone through primer. It's just enough to get you into realizing when you're in trouble.

"Like now. I'm supposed to give a simple, relatively non-lethal example of what Camp is like. And I've even got a volunteer." I look back down at Seven of Twenty. "Seven, what would you say to a little rope-climbing?"

"I can climb the one behind you easily enough. It'd take like two minutes."

I look back at the rope--really, two ropes--in mock surprise. "Really?" I ask mockingly. "That's just what I wanted to hear."

I pulled two bands, one red and the other blue, from my pocket. The blue one, I strapped to Seven's ankle. Then I turned and started to walk away. "But first, let me introduce you all to an old friend of mine." I pulled the mannequin out. "This is Mr. Cement, and he's a stone man through and through. Watch what happens when I put this collar on him." I flip the red band around his neck and it snaps on. I start to walk back to the others.

"Now these collars, they're pretty nice. Magnetic locking coupled with a hardener means that once they're on, there's only one way to get them off." I lift my hand, and they all see the detonator I hold. "Watch closely, I won't be repeating this."

I push the button and the red band bursts, cleanly severing Mr. Cement's head from his body. An audible gasp sounds behind me and then, I know, they turn to stare at Seven's new anklet.

I turn back on them and smile like a shark. "Cut right the fuck through. And that's stone. Imagine what it could do to you. It ain't half that clean."

I bend down to look the now queasy-looking Seven in the face. "I hope you like your new accessory. I gave you blue because it matches your eyes. A girl's gotta look good, right?"

I stand and start to pace again. "But they're not really all just like that. Reds are remote detonated. Blues have timers.

"In fact, as soon as Seven gets out of that chair, she'll have three hundred seconds--five minutes--before it blows." The collective gasp of horror was very satisfying. "Yes. That's right. And how do you think that'll look? Fucking glorious."

I turned back to Seven. "But there is one other thing. You can deactivate it. And guess what? I'm even willing to give you the chance.

"Tell you what you gotta do: That rope? At the top of it's a button. Get to the top and press it, and your jewelry won't take off your leg."

I stop in front of the shocked Seven. "Uh-oh. Now there's pressure. Think you're up for it? Can you still do two minutes?"

She looks at me, putting on an infuriated look to mask her fear. Good, still some fight left in her. "Fuck you, asshole. Yeah, I can still do it."

I lean in close and silkily say, "Good." I reach behind her and push a switch. The cuffs unlatch, and there's an audible tone from the band. "Five minutes."

I step out of her way and address the others. "Feel free to cheer Seven on. Or shout her down. Hell, I don't care." She reaches the rope and starts climbing quickly. "This's gonna be fun."

Seven got a quarter of the way up before she was hit by something hard. A training ball we use here. One of the outsiders I met once called them heavy 'medicine' balls. I hit him in the mouth with one and said that they had stupid medicine Outside. I had a dozen of these balls, and had thrown them all at Seven by the time she reaches the three-quarter mark, and I'd taken to randomly shaking the rope as well. Every ball had hit. Some of the kids had started cheering her on loudly, telling her to ignore me and such crap.

The thirteenth ball I throw at her actually has power put into it, and when it hits her between the shoulder blades, Seven looses her grip and starts to fall. She screams, and the others go silent as she drops like a stone.

I catch her roughly. "That's your one save. Did I forget to mention that any sudden jarring could set this thing off? Three minutes."

Seven swings back to punch me, but I let her arm's momentum roll her out of my arms. She believes what I said, though, because she catches herself without using that leg before she jumps back for the rope. The rest of the party cheers her on.

I pace at the bottom, yelling for her to hurry up until she's a third of the way up. When she reaches that point, I grab a switch and start climbing the second rope. The kids yell for her to hurry, and a couple actually start throwing insults my way. Probably think it'll distract me or something. But by the time she's reached the half-way point, I'm next to her, hitting her with the switch and telling her to hurry up.

Seven starts to look scared at the two-third mark. It's taken her two minutes to get to that point with me attacking her. She has forty-five seconds left. Doubt starts to creep in when I remind her of the time. When she redoubles her efforts, I let her start to pull ahead of me. The switching stops as I climb beside her.

Twenty seconds to go and she's got five before she reaches the top. So I hit her again. She must have been concentrating real hard, because the lash across her shoulders makes her lose her grip again.

This time, there's no one below her to catch her. I'm too far away to help either. I start to climb back down, but she catches herself with her leg tangled in the rope. She flips back up and starts to climb again.

Ten. I start sliding back down. She'll probably make it.

Nine. Three more pulls and she'll be up.

Eight. I'm at the halfway point and start swinging on the rope.

Seven. Her number. She reaches the top and sees that the button has a cap over it.

Six. She fiddles with the cap, then hits it sideways to break it.

Five. Two more hits send the cap spinning down to the ground.

Four. Seven pushes the large button, but can't get it to move. I hear her surprise.

Three. She punches up on the button.

Two. She yells as she hits it again. It slides up.

One. There's a second tone, the same as the first. All twenty kids sigh.

Zero. The kids on the ground see a bright flash, and then are hit by a piercing shriek. Seven screams in pain and lets go of the rope.

As she drops, I swing back out and catch her. I slide down the rope as the idiots latched to the ground are yelling all sorts of colorfully at me. The flash has blinded them, so they think the worst when I drop from the one-quarter mark and land with a thud.

When their eyes clear, nineteen heads turn to see me holding Seven under my arm like a sack of crap. There was still a slight electrical residue from the explosion, and it crackled up her legs and into me, making the muscles on my arm twitch wildly.

I put the unconscious Seven back into her seat and lock her back in. The others are silent. Whether in fear of her death or relief she still had her leg, I don't know. It doesn't really matter to me. The electricity loosened her up, and the two sitting on either side of her are jarred by the scent of her piss.

"So what do you little fucks think, huh? That is the nicest I'll ever be to any of you. Here on out, if I say it'll fucking take your leg off, it'll fucking take your goddamn leg off!" I yell so loudly that those closest to me jump. "This isn't a game. What's more, you don't have a goddamn choice in the matter except one: fight or die. When you're put on the Field, the odds'll be against you. At first it'll be because you don't know your elbow from your asshole, and inexperience is disadvantage enough. As you get better, the rules'll change. They'll fuck with you in any way they can think of. Something like today is a possibility. Except instead of the shock knocking you out, it'll probably just paralyze you long enough for someone to come up and open your chest up with a goddamned bowie knife.

"Only one person can keep you from being so fucked that you die embarrassingly easy. Only one person can get you sad crap-sacs ready to stay alive whatever happens here. Only one person can give you the tools you need to survive. And that person is me.

"You don't have to like me. I don't expect you to. I don't want you to. There's no fucking reason for you to like me. The only people you can trust are the ones beside you right now. And that won't last long. They're your friends now, but if you trust them too much, it'll hurt that much more when they turn on you.

"If you ever--ever--find someone you can trust completely, you cry your fucking eyes out for them, because they're as good as dead. And probably because of, if not by, you. This is the Camp. We're here for one reason and one reason alone: to fucking die. You wanna buck the system, you gotta play by the rules. You gotta get so fucking good that they can't kill you. And then you gotta find a way to leave."

I calm my voice. "Don't get your hopes up. It's never been done. Hell, I don't think it's possible. But if anyone can do it ... it's me. And if you think you want out, you listen to what I have to say. Maybe someday you'll be good enough to find a way out too."

The kids are all scared. Of course they are. Newlins and Genesia just got their lives ripped away. But the fear can help. And I can't just hold their hands and tell them it's all right. So I'll break them until they're hard enough to do the breaking, then let them loose to see how they do.

"My name's Eddy. You can also call me Nil. Today I get the name Faramond. Let's get to work."