And he had to fight them? Maybe to the death?
“Listen up, men,” called their boss as he entered through one of the doors leading to the arena. A few guys leaned aside to peer past him, Kane included, but there was nothing to see out there except another wall. “It’s almost game time, and I know you’re feeling the pressure. I’ll give you something to take the edge off”—he shook his inhaler—“but first we need to go over your objective. The pit changes every day, so no two games are ever the same.” He pointed at a different set of doors. “Tonight you’ll compete in pairs. There are two different mazes, one for each of you. Your job is to make it to the battle platform on the other side, where you and your opponent will fight until the master of ceremonies tells you to stop.”
So it was true. The pit was a maze.
The man with a buddy on the construction crew raised his hand. “What’s inside the maze, boss?”
“I’m not allowed to say. All I can tell you is to be on your guard. The pit’s interactive. There’s a control panel on each seat, and the guests will try to sabotage the players they’re betting against.” He glanced at Kane. “The crowd’s favorite will have the easiest maze, but don’t let that fool you. These people didn’t come here to watch an ordinary sport. They can do that at home. They came here to watch you bleed.”
Kane’s stomach lurched.
“Now, bump up, all of you.”
The boss handed his inhaler to the first man, who took a breath and passed it down the line until it came to Kane. He pumped the cartridge two times before giving it to the next guy. Instantly, the Gold washed away all his fear and replaced it with energy. He shot up from the bench and jogged in place, wishing he could be the first player instead of the last. He was going to turn this maze over his knee and spank it.
A booming voice echoed through the speakers, welcoming the guests to the very first Adel Vice Bloodsport Tournament. The master of ceremonies introduced the first pair of fighters, and the men strode out of their respective doors to thunderous applause. When the applause died, a buzzer sounded, and at once, the crowd cheered.
Kane jumped up and down while glancing out the window. He couldn’t see the maze, so he watched the spectators for a sense of what he was missing. Some guests leaned forward in their seats, yelling and pumping their arms into the air. Others punched buttons on their armrests. Every now and then, odd sounds would come from the pit—thunks and thwacks—and the guests would react by cringing and drawing their shoulders to their ears. One person shook his head and stood up to leave, but the rest seemed riveted, even the ones who hid their eyes and peeked through their fingers.
Kane listened for the MC to tell the players to stop fighting, but the announcement never came. There was another buzz, followed by a simultaneous moan of disappointment from the crowd, and then his boss told the next pair of players to step up to the doors.
The next round seemed shorter than the first, and so did the round after that. Each game ended with the same unsatisfied groan from the spectators. Kane was beginning to think the players weren’t making it to the battle platform at all. Then his boss called the fourth-round players, and Cutter strode to the door.
“Good luck,” Kane told him, but Cutter didn’t look back.
The buzzer sounded, and Kane returned his attention to the guests, whose tolerance seemed to have waned. Now they watched the game while cringing and sucking air through their teeth. Even more of them hid their eyes. At one point, there was a scream from the pit, and one man in the stands clapped a palm over his mouth and lurched as if to vomit.
Their reactions broke down Kane’s confidence. He peered at the doors to the maze while sweat slicked his body. The Gold in his system was no match for the adrenaline pumping a steady warning through his veins in time with his heartbeat: Don’t-go, don’t-go, don’t-go.
The MC’s voice called, “And our first champion—Brock Cutter!”
The crowd cheered. Kane was glad to hear Cutter had made it to the other side, though it didn’t escape his notice that the MC hadn’t told the players to stop fighting. Either Cutter was the only man to survive the maze, or he’d killed his opponent.
“Last team, you’re up.”
Kane shared a terrified glance with the other player, a tall guy he vaguely recognized from the dorm. Both of their chests rose and fell too quickly as they made their way to the doors. Their boss clapped his meaty hands as if to motivate them, but then frowned at the sweat stains on Kane’s bodysuit.
“Listen, you two,” the boss said. “It’s a horror show out there tonight, so I’m gonna break the rules and give you some pointers. Your ears are your best defense. Pay attention to the sounds inside the maze. If you hear a pop, get down. Same goes for a sizzle. If you hear a grinding noise, jump high and fast. Understood?”