62 CHAPTER 61
THREE YEARS LATER
Ema bit down on the foreboding in her stomach as she zipped down her boot and rolled the white linen around her wrist. The linen blended with the color of the black jumpsuit as soon as the clipped reached home somewhere underneath her armpit. She stood over the mirror on the wall and adjusted her leather glove. The electric armor, the breastplate, and the armlet were all out of sight. Everything made her streamline features obey the laws of aerodynamics. Nothing would slow her down this time. She would be invisible for tonight's match. Invincible as long as those pervert wants her to be.
She hissed and picked up her head-plate. The whole thing made her want to curl up into a ball and cry her heart out. Nothing had changed in her life. Her misery was still with her and the pains she had kept at bay for the past twenty years still haunted her dreams. The strings of people still held her will and her emotions. They were the puppeteer, and she was the puppet. They play the tone and she dances to the music. However bad it may seem.
"Sparkle!!" Someone called as the white metallic door slide open.
Ema's face folded inward. She bit her under lips and allowed the arrows in her glare to travel towards the direction of the door. A skinny woman stood there, wearing a smile that made her pointed face look like a she-goat. She donned herself in a red jumpsuit, making the freckle on her face appear more like a child's play. Ema had seen no one in Anadan who wore the same color frequently. If the woman was beautiful, that would have been a different story entirely. But her goat face was like the snort of a pig, adorned with golden jewelry.
Sparkle?
Ema hated that name. She wished the goat-face woman would stop calling her that already. It reminded her of all the troubles and agony she had passed through in the hands of these vendors, who trade humans for games. How long would they keep her in this cell?
"You look… wow, I mean," The woman stammered and rubbed the bridge of her nose, blinking those eyes that held so many eyelashes as they fell on Ema "… you astounding, tough and innocent." She said.
Ema nodded and reverted her gaze to the mirror. She was careful to keep her eyes from meeting the golden color of the woman's gaze. Just one silly mistake and they would discover her secret. She was not ready to disclose them now. Not until she finds a way to get out of this hell.
"Who is my opponent?" Ema asked.
"Oh, about that" The Skinny faced woman returned her bonny hands into her pouch and brought out her notepad. She paused her lips as she typed silently on the pad, hopefully keeping counts of the amount of money she would get after today's finale.
"They call him Red." She said after what seemed to be an eternity. "He is the champion of the red tail phantom. Had fought 43 matches, with 43 different opponents. None survived. He has not lost a single match before. This will be his first I guess; my sparkle is more deadly as well" She said and laughed at her own joke.
Ema bit down the anger, trying with every attempt within her to keep her tongue from uttering words that would make the woman think her life through. That would make them suspect your freedom. A voice seemed to warn in her head. She breathed in and relaxed, hoping that would calm her troubled breast.
"What is the rule? Will the finale be a ring on fire?" She asked, still trying to keep her eyes from the woman's direct gaze. Her mouth was also following the same discipline, shutting itself in other to keep her tongue from running wide.
"Where is the fun in that," The goat face woman laughed. "The finale will be much fun. It would not only be a ring on fire, it will be the last man stand."
"The last man stand?" Ema's stomach tightened. She had fought 43 matches and had survived all. Even though she had lost none, she had tried to keep her hands clean by avoiding the Last man stand Matches as one would avoid working with dead bodies. But it seems it Is inevitable today.
"That's how it has always been, my dear," The goat face woman said.
Ema's brow deepened with small lines when she heard that. She hated survivor matches, as much as she hated the woman using sweet names on her. Ever since she came back to her senses and had removed the HT from her body system, there had been no complications, at least she tried to avoid it as much as she could. If Mr. Coman had not freed her from the cages of the HT, perhaps she would be doing the biddings of this useless woman who could sacrifice her life for the luxuries of riches and wealth. Play by the rules and you will be safe. The voice of Mr. Coman seemed to say in her head. She would continue to play along, let them think they still had her in their string. All she needed to do at the moment was waiting for the perfect opportunity. She would be gone from this hell, into the outside world, into the world where she would meet her friends and Jeff.
The thoughts broke a smile on her upper lips. It was a perfect memory. The only memory that gives her hope amid the difficult times she was passing through. I will see them again. I know I will. She consoled herself as she adjusted her armlet, which was not visible to the eyes.
"Don't ruin it, my dear Sparkle," the woman said as if reading her thoughts. "You have been my best fighter ever. Don't ruin this once in a lifetime opportunity. 6,000 Qiz is a whole lot of money. I haven't had that in my career as a manager before. Don't ruin this and I might just grant you your freedom afterward"
As though you know what the word 'freedom means'
Ema grunted but remained quiet as the woman continued to blab about the amount of money she would earn if everything goes on as plan. It was a test. Ema could tell. The woman had said freedom deliberately. It was a way to test if the HT (happy tech) had been deactivated. Anybody who had seen this hell of prison would want to jump up and accept to be freed. But that would only lead them back to the laboratory where they would be worked on like some piece of shit that needs fixing.
"Do you have a picture of this Red boy you talked about?" She asked.
"Oh, about that," the woman scanned her notepad, but she heaved when her eyes fell on something that she alone could see. "Oh, my goodness. This boy is really good looking."
Ema grumbled under her breath, but not loud enough for the woman to hear. She picked her R-board (roller-board) and clipped the head-plate round her ear. If she had her way, this woman would be screaming in pain.
"Here is your opponent, isn't he beautiful?" The skinny woman asked and held up the notepad.
Ema's jaw dropped when she saw the image. Her stomach sank, causing her to feel the weight of the world on her head. The ping in her racing chest had diffused into her spine, picking the hairs on her skin and causing her ears to ring. It took all of will's power not to scream. The face of the boy on the screen looked all too familiar. She knew that face; she had laughed with that face, argued with that face, and secretly was in love with that face. How long had it been since she last saw him?
"His… sure, he's handsome" Ema managed to say. She averted her gaze, trying with all her might to keep up with the act.
"Hmm, this one is new, I have never seen you in short of words before. The power of men I guess," The woman laughed "It's time, Sparkle, the world awaits to see the demon living inside that angelic face of yours"
Ema supported her weight on the wall as soon as the woman left. She was not supposed to show signs of weakness, but she couldn't help the tears that flooded her vision. The pain had surfaced, threatening to overwhelm her. She couldn't imagine how she was supposed to maintain the act. It was too difficult. Her opponent was Jeffred Peters, her friend. She would face him in a survivor match. What will she do?
Ema dried her tears when she heard approaching footsteps. If Jeff was in this game, that means that he too must have the happy tech on him. She knew what to do, but the only way to do it was the hard way.
Ema bit down on the foreboding in her stomach as she zipped down her boot and rolled the white linen around her wrist. The linen blended with the color of the black jumpsuit as soon as the clipped reached home somewhere underneath her armpit. She stood over the mirror on the wall and adjusted her leather glove. The electric armor, the breastplate, and the armlet were all out of sight. Everything made her streamline features obey the laws of aerodynamics. Nothing would slow her down this time. She would be invisible for tonight's match. Invincible as long as those pervert wants her to be.
She hissed and picked up her head-plate. The whole thing made her want to curl up into a ball and cry her heart out. Nothing had changed in her life. Her misery was still with her and the pains she had kept at bay for the past twenty years still haunted her dreams. The strings of people still held her will and her emotions. They were the puppeteer, and she was the puppet. They play the tone and she dances to the music. However bad it may seem.
"Sparkle!!" Someone called as the white metallic door slide open.
Ema's face folded inward. She bit her under lips and allowed the arrows in her glare to travel towards the direction of the door. A skinny woman stood there, wearing a smile that made her pointed face look like a she-goat. She donned herself in a red jumpsuit, making the freckle on her face appear more like a child's play. Ema had seen no one in Anadan who wore the same color frequently. If the woman was beautiful, that would have been a different story entirely. But her goat face was like the snort of a pig, adorned with golden jewelry.
Sparkle?
Ema hated that name. She wished the goat-face woman would stop calling her that already. It reminded her of all the troubles and agony she had passed through in the hands of these vendors, who trade humans for games. How long would they keep her in this cell?
"You look… wow, I mean," The woman stammered and rubbed the bridge of her nose, blinking those eyes that held so many eyelashes as they fell on Ema "… you astounding, tough and innocent." She said.
Ema nodded and reverted her gaze to the mirror. She was careful to keep her eyes from meeting the golden color of the woman's gaze. Just one silly mistake and they would discover her secret. She was not ready to disclose them now. Not until she finds a way to get out of this hell.
"Who is my opponent?" Ema asked.
"Oh, about that" The Skinny faced woman returned her bonny hands into her pouch and brought out her notepad. She paused her lips as she typed silently on the pad, hopefully keeping counts of the amount of money she would get after today's finale.
"They call him Red." She said after what seemed to be an eternity. "He is the champion of the red tail phantom. Had fought 43 matches, with 43 different opponents. None survived. He has not lost a single match before. This will be his first I guess; my sparkle is more deadly as well" She said and laughed at her own joke.
Ema bit down the anger, trying with every attempt within her to keep her tongue from uttering words that would make the woman think her life through. That would make them suspect your freedom. A voice seemed to warn in her head. She breathed in and relaxed, hoping that would calm her troubled breast.
"What is the rule? Will the finale be a ring on fire?" She asked, still trying to keep her eyes from the woman's direct gaze. Her mouth was also following the same discipline, shutting itself in other to keep her tongue from running wide.
"Where is the fun in that," The goat face woman laughed. "The finale will be much fun. It would not only be a ring on fire, it will be the last man stand."
"The last man stand?" Ema's stomach tightened. She had fought 43 matches and had survived all. Even though she had lost none, she had tried to keep her hands clean by avoiding the Last man stand Matches as one would avoid working with dead bodies. But it seems it Is inevitable today.
"That's how it has always been, my dear," The goat face woman said.
Ema's brow deepened with small lines when she heard that. She hated survivor matches, as much as she hated the woman using sweet names on her. Ever since she came back to her senses and had removed the HT from her body system, there had been no complications, at least she tried to avoid it as much as she could. If Mr. Coman had not freed her from the cages of the HT, perhaps she would be doing the biddings of this useless woman who could sacrifice her life for the luxuries of riches and wealth. Play by the rules and you will be safe. The voice of Mr. Coman seemed to say in her head. She would continue to play along, let them think they still had her in their string. All she needed to do at the moment was waiting for the perfect opportunity. She would be gone from this hell, into the outside world, into the world where she would meet her friends and Jeff.
The thoughts broke a smile on her upper lips. It was a perfect memory. The only memory that gives her hope amid the difficult times she was passing through. I will see them again. I know I will. She consoled herself as she adjusted her armlet, which was not visible to the eyes.
"Don't ruin it, my dear Sparkle," the woman said as if reading her thoughts. "You have been my best fighter ever. Don't ruin this once in a lifetime opportunity. 6,000 Qiz is a whole lot of money. I haven't had that in my career as a manager before. Don't ruin this and I might just grant you your freedom afterward"
As though you know what the word 'freedom means'
Ema grunted but remained quiet as the woman continued to blab about the amount of money she would earn if everything goes on as plan. It was a test. Ema could tell. The woman had said freedom deliberately. It was a way to test if the HT (happy tech) had been deactivated. Anybody who had seen this hell of prison would want to jump up and accept to be freed. But that would only lead them back to the laboratory where they would be worked on like some piece of shit that needs fixing.
"Do you have a picture of this Red boy you talked about?" She asked.
"Oh, about that," the woman scanned her notepad, but she heaved when her eyes fell on something that she alone could see. "Oh, my goodness. This boy is really good looking."
Ema grumbled under her breath, but not loud enough for the woman to hear. She picked her R-board (roller-board) and clipped the head-plate round her ear. If she had her way, this woman would be screaming in pain.
"Here is your opponent, isn't he beautiful?" The skinny woman asked and held up the notepad.
Ema's jaw dropped when she saw the image. Her stomach sank, causing her to feel the weight of the world on her head. The ping in her racing chest had diffused into her spine, picking the hairs on her skin and causing her ears to ring. It took all of will's power not to scream. The face of the boy on the screen looked all too familiar. She knew that face; she had laughed with that face, argued with that face, and secretly was in love with that face. How long had it been since she last saw him?
"His… sure, he's handsome" Ema managed to say. She averted her gaze, trying with all her might to keep up with the act.
"Hmm, this one is new, I have never seen you in short of words before. The power of men I guess," The woman laughed "It's time, Sparkle, the world awaits to see the demon living inside that angelic face of yours"
Ema supported her weight on the wall as soon as the woman left. She was not supposed to show signs of weakness, but she couldn't help the tears that flooded her vision. The pain had surfaced, threatening to overwhelm her. She couldn't imagine how she was supposed to maintain the act. It was too difficult. Her opponent was Jeffred Peters, her friend. She would face him in a survivor match. What will she do?
Ema dried her tears when she heard approaching footsteps. If Jeff was in this game, that means that he too must have the happy tech on him. She knew what to do, but the only way to do it was the hard way.
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