John watched the carnage with an open mouth from his position of relative safety behind a palm tree. The fire had spread in a small circumference around the area of explosion and was burning fiercely, however it seemed to be dying out. The grass was soaked with so much blood that it was practically a wetland swamp.

  Thank god for all those dead koalas, John thought as he watched the sizzling pink mist begin to rise from the evaporating blood near the fire. It rolled across the ground: a low fog.

  James, the man-bun having twin brother of BazzleDazzle69, screamed in agony and terror as the phosphorus clung to his skin, burning away the layers and threatening to strip him of his flesh.

  “Oh my god,” Truffle said in a horrified voice, “Boss, we have to help him!”

  “I don’t know that we can,” John replied in a low voice.

  “James!” Baz screamed, rushing to his side and sliding through the blood-soaked grass on his knees.

  “Shit,” John swore, jumping from behind the tree and slamming into Baz with the expert speed of a professional football player.

  “Get off me!” Baz screamed hysterically, “I have to help him.”

  “The only thing you’re going to do is get covered in that stuff and burn to death with him!” John shouted back as he struggled to keep the hefty man from breaking free of his clutches.

  “Fuck you!” Baz replied, tears beginning to stream from his eyes, “he’s my brother, I can’t just watch him die. This is all your fault you… you… fuck!”

  In a way Baz was right, if John hadn’t shot the phosphorus grenade then perhaps James wouldn’t currently be burning to death in front of them. But he had to make a split-second decision and he chose to kill the Hob-Koala before it blew them all up.

  No matter how this played out, he wouldn’t be made to feel guilty about making the hard choice. Sometimes there is no right choice, just the one you have to live with.

  “Baz…” James croaked, his lips peeling back as they burned away, revealing his bleeding gums and white teeth, “it hurts.”

  The burly man in John’s arms wailed, reaching his hand towards his dying brother. He had given up all attempts to struggle against John’s grip.

  James reached back; his hand barely recognisable as human after the flames had burned all the flesh from his bones. They watched for a long moment as the fire died down to embers, smoke rose from James whose body had been reduced to a charred skeleton, his skin melted and blackened.

  How is he still alive? John wondered as another wiper caught in the man’s throat mixed with laboured breathing.

  “Shoot him,” Baz whimpered, “shoot him! He’s suffered enough… let him… let him go quickly.”

  Answering with a single, solemn nod, John summoned one of his revolvers and raised it towards the man’s melting head. James looked at him with pleading eyes, perhaps even some solace of relief as he realised what John planned to do for him.

  Squeezing his eyes shut for just a moment, John flexed his trigger finger when Joanna stepped in front of him. Releasing his finger he looked up at the back of the blonde woman. Was she trying to protect James? Did she not realise that there was nothing that could be done for him?

  Crouching down almost ceremoniously, Joanna bent over the face of the dying, charred man and pulled a soiled knife from within her sleeve.

  Did she take that from a koala?

  Looking into the man’s eyes, she delicately slid the knife behind his ear, piercing the side of his brain.

  His eyes dimmed and he looked… thankful.

  “That was a knowledgeable kill,” Truffle whispered, “only a professional would know that the spot behind the ear is weak and makes for a quick death.”

  “How did you know about that?” John replied.

  “I saw it on The Walking Dead,” he said lightly. Anne used to leave the TV on for him when she went out, John had never understood the reasoning behind it personally.

  “Then how do you know that she didn’t see it on that show as well?”

  “Hmm,” Truffle said, taking some time to consider his answer, “I guess I don’t. I wonder who her favourite character is? I bet its Daryl.” He nodded to himself, looking her over carefully, “it’s probably Daryl.”

  Baz sobbed softly in John’s arms as he watched his brother’s euthanasia. It was a mercy, but it was still sickening.

  Joanna’s shoulders heaved as she continued to face the charred, lifeless body. John almost felt bad for her, she had really stepped up, dealing with it in such a caring way showed a lot of bravery and compassion.

  Maybe there’s hope for us yet, John thought as he gazed up at the sky for a silent moment. You will not take our humanity.

  “Hey,” he called softly, looking back at the woman. “Are you alright?”

  She turned around and John recoiled as he saw the wide grin on her face. Her eyes were gleaming with joy and she was laughing. That was it, that was the off-putting look in her gaze that he’d noticed before. The pure elation of a psychopath. She was enjoying this. John felt physically sick as it dawned on him.

  “I guess everyone deals with grief differently…” Truffle said.

  “Am I ok?” She asked, repeating the question as if she barely understood it. “I feel… amazing.”

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  With the bloodied knife still gripped tightly in her hand, she lifted it to her face and inspected it. A strand of charred flesh hung limply from the crimson blade, the smell was revolting, but from the look on the woman’s face, you wouldn’t know.

  Baz stared at her in horror and John wasn’t quite sure what to say. He had a sudden, irrefutable urge to keep his weapon drawn though, which he did, training it on her as she grinned maniacally at her own weapon.

  “Y-you…” Baz stuttered, “sadistic bitch!

  “Sadistic?” She asked, cocking her head to the side slightly, “it was a mercy killing. Would you have preferred to watch him suffer? Just think of the possibilities,” she looked at the knife in wonder, “the power. I can liberate them.”

  “I’d have preferred that you didn’t take such pleasure in it!” Baz yelled, breaking free of John’s arms and standing up, squaring off against Joanna. “He was a person… h-he had a wife. He was my-”

  “He was dead either way… we all are,” she replied, cutting him off and furrowing her brow as if she couldn’t quite comprehend his outrage. “My feelings on the matter couldn’t have changed that. I did him a service, so what if I found it exhilarating? The longer this game goes on the more you’ll meet people who agree with me. This is a death game, not a snowflake, hugs and cake parade. Grow up. Can’t you see it?”

  She practically spat those last words as her lips curled in disgust for the mortified heavy-set man stood before her.

  “See what?” Baz asked, dejected. She didn’t reply, instead continuing to stare intently at the blade as James’ blood glinted peacefully upon it. Baz’ head drooped, his shoulders followed, like a robot shutting down. He backed away and moved to lean against the palm tree, muttering to himself.

  “You enjoy the killing,” John asked, keeping his revolver trained on the woman, “don’t you?”

  “It seems so,” she replied in a low, wonderous voice. “Who would have thought? The only reason I stepped up to the plate was because I thought it’d be an easy kill. We were advised to kill people. To end their suffering. This seemed like… like a mercy. Still… I guess it all makes sense now. For every person I kill that’s one less person able to kill me. This is a battle royale after all, that math speaks for itself. I’m helping them.”

  “That’s certainly one way to look at it,” John replied slowly, “though it’s a little unhinged. Seems to me that you’re only helping yourself. There’s no salvation in death, no hope.”

  “Isn’t there?” She asked, crouching down to look him in the eyes, “I didn’t ask for this, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to lay down and die either. I can help these people and myself. You agree with me don’t you? We’re the same, you and I. Honestly it’s probably better for people like them to die early. They’re too weak. This game was made for the likes of us.”

  She gestured offhandedly towards Baz who leaned against the tree with a faraway stare. Joanna’s words sounded like a verbal eyeroll.

  Them, it almost felt distasteful.

  “I’ll do whatever it takes to survive this,” John said evenly, though despite his best efforts he couldn’t quite suppress dissatisfaction from showing in his tone. “But I don’t enjoy it. I don’t take pleasure in it. We are not the same.”

  “Deny it all you want,” Joanna said teasingly, “but your eyes told a different story during that boss fight. You like the violence, you’re just in denial. Eventually I think you’ll come to see that we have more in common than you think.”

  She stood up and turned on her heels, her toned lower body was directly in John’s eyeline, though any previous attraction he might have had towards her was gone.

  “Wait!” He yelled as she began to walk away.

  His revolver was still aimed squarely at her chest, though she didn’t seem to care.

  “What?” she asked incredulously, “are you going to shoot me, John Doe? I thought you didn’t like killing.”

  “I’m thinking about it,” he replied. He couldn’t just let her walk away. She was unhinged, a danger to everyone else in the vicinity, in the game.

  “I could have killed you any time I wanted you know,” she said. That was when he felt a slight tickle on the back of his neck.

  “Boss, look out!” Truffle shouted, headbutting his shoulder in a vain attempt to move him out of the way.

  One of the koala’s knives was floating behind him, the cold steel pressed against his skin. He gulped as a tingle shot down his spine.

  “Why didn’t you?” He asked the mad woman, placing his free hand on the pig’s head and stroking him gently.

  “It’s more interesting this way,” she replied, biting her bottom lip playfully. “When we fight for real, my views are going to skyrocket. I see potential in you, Killer. You don’t need salvation.”

  With that she turned around once more and began walking towards one of the many alleyways that led into the open space.

  John kept his gun trained on her, he wanted to squeeze the trigger, a part of him knew that it would only cause problems down the line to allow her to live.

  However, the cold steel tickling the back of his neck unnerved him. His wife had told him to win and he couldn’t do that with a severed spinal cord.

  With great effort he forced himself to lower his pistol, slammed his fist into the blood-soaked grass beneath him and as she disappeared, the knife clattered to the ground behind him.

  They sat in silence for a while: the pig and the two men. One slumped against a tree, the other staring at the ground as his new jeans soaked up the scarlet wetness surrounding him. It was safe to say that they were never going to be the same shade of blue again.

  “That’s a shame,” Truffle said eventually, leaning his small head in John’s lap. “I thought for sure she was going to be the love interest.”

  “I’m married Truffle,” John replied with a sad laugh, “… to your owner… remember?”

  “Oh of course, the mistress Anne!” He said, perking up at the mention of her. In that moment, John realised that he probably should have just stayed quiet. “Now that we’ve finished this challenge, we should really go and look for her. I bet she’s here, in this city.”

  “I doubt it,” he replied with a sigh, “besides, we still have a card to collect. Assuming our deal still stands?” He said, raising his voice so Baz could hear him.

  They had technically made a pact that the card would belong to the one to land the killing blow on the Hob-Koala and that was John. Though Baz still stared helplessly into space and he doubted the stubby man heard him or cared.

  Quest Complete:

  The Hob-Koala Hullabaloo

  Objectives:

  Kill the Hob-Koala 1/1

  Survive 1/1

  Reward:

  1/3 chance to receive a new card.

  That took its time, John thought as the quest completion notification popped up in front of him. Did they delay it so it wouldn’t interrupt the drama?

  Quickly checking his current views in the interface, he saw that more than three million people were watching. The entire ordeal had been entertaining to them. They’d watched James burn alive and enjoyed it. Who the hell were these aliens?

  I hate this fucking game.

  He noticed grimly that the odds of getting the card as a reward had increased with the death of James and the disappearance of Joanna.

  Alrighty folks, wasn’t that exciting? The announcer’s jovial voice boomed out around them, making Truffle jump, but failing to rouse Baz from his despair. Fights, drama, death, betrayal, this challenge had it all! But now it’s time for the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Who will get the card?

  “Me, obviously,” John said aloud as he stood up and walked towards the remains of the Hob-Koala. Knowing that the announcer had purposefully waited, likely entertained by the horrifying scene that had just played out, left a sour taste on his tongue.

  The Hob-Koala’s metal skeleton was still smouldering and the stench of burnt flesh got stronger as he approached. Still though, after everything they’d gone through to defeat it, he wasn’t going to let this card go to waste.

  He needed it to get through the next torii gate, he needed it to get stronger, he needed it… to survive.

  CRUNCH.

  The sickening sound of crunching metal scraping against teeth jolted John from his thoughts. Looking to the side he saw Truffle, happily munching on a piece of skin covered metal.

  Is he eating the Hob-Koala?

  “Bad Truffle, that’s gross,” John chastised.

  “You’re telling me,” the pig replied, “it tastes all irony and wrong. Nothing at all like how I expected… ooh, I got a notification!”