Our Dirty Hands

Quarin and Lenith sat side by side in a white room, their hands cuffed, their hearts heavy and their stomachs empty.
Quarin spoke quietly, "I swear...if they don't do something I will."
Lenith scoffed, "Like what? Throw a temper tantrum? "
He ignored him and began to look around the room. A man dressed in black armor and a full head helmet walked in. He held two uniforms.

They were a leathery black with design engraved in them. They were jumpsuits that zipped up the back. They both had the symbol of the hand and earth on the left shoulder. The heavily armored man lead them out of the room and into a large hall with thousands of men and woman dressed as them.
Quarin's pupils shrank and Lenith's hands became clammy,
"They're going to turn us into monsters aren't they.." Lenith spoke softly as the gaurd lead them to there seats. Quarin was silent and then looked at the pale creature next to him. Orin grinned, "Hello my famous friend.."
Quarin slowly turned his head forward glaring at the large podium infront of them,
"What're the odds..."
Orin grinned, "This is when things get interesting. A death match to find the 'purest' of us all. You and your friend are the highest bidders I hear. You do come from one of the toughest districts."
Quarin swallowed, "A death match? Against what?"
Orin turned his pale dead eyes toward him and let his lips curl into a grin,
"Against each other of course..."

The same handsome fear filled man walked up to the podium.
"Hello, outsiders! I am your host and your new ruler, President Rikard. You have been especially selected from your district to enter in a tournament. Some of you will win and some of you will loose...and if you loose you die."
Quarin could hear Lenith swallow and he shifted his eyes to him. He saw his trembling eyes and how he was fiddling with his fingers.
He bumped him with his shoulder, "We're a team remember."
Lenith smiled weakly and gave a slight nod of insurance. But even though Quarin didn't show it he too feared for how this would all end up.
"You each will be supplied with a weapon of your choosing! You will also have the choice of a mellet weapon as well as the cycle gun. The final competitors will be rewarded greatly. Now I wish you all luck, some of you will need it."
Rikard strolled off the stage. Soon a line of guards walked in and took row by row the many souls to go and prepare for their death. Soon it was their turn.

They were lead into a dimly lit room with a table of weapons of all types. Quarin grabbed the same cycle gun he had always used, the 101 Cycle Pistol, he also grabbed a long hunters knife.

Lineth began to grab the biggest gun he saw when Quarin stopped him.
"Fight with what you know, you don't want to be using a gun you've never even seen before."
Lineth nodded and grabbed a Klyke Gun, It was very light weight and fast to reload. He too also grabbed the same knife he stole from the guard.

The time came where they were lifted onto a platform filled with thousands of people. Quarin glared, "Of course...watching people kill others for entertainment, what a world."

He loaded his weapon and watched as the man across from him rose to the platform. He had the giant gun that Lenith was reaching for. He kept his face calm and straight as he slowly strode across the platform. The announcer sounded,
"The tournament will begin in,
3..."

Lenith closed his eyes and listened to the beat of his heart as he breathed in deeply,
"I will not die today."

"2..."

"I will not let my father and all of the other souls they have killed die in vein."

"1..."

"I'll kill them all with my bare hands if I have to, I will not loose!"

"Fight!"

Quarin opened his eyes revealing his intense silver irises. The man fired the cannon like gun and it shot at him and he rolled away at last minute. Using his arm as a stabilizer he closed one eye and aimed for the mans head. He fired and hit him on the first shot. His blood splattered all over the platform and his body rolled off and down into the dark abyss below them. The crowd roared and cheered as they saw the first man dead.

The tournament last up to 2 hours and then before they knew it the announcer spoke,
"Final round!"

Quarin watched in horror as Lenith stepped in front of him. Lenith's pupils were small and he was shaking. He slowly shook his head. Quarin pressed his finger to his lips as he raised his gun toward him.

Lenith bit his lips and closed his eyes tightly. He knew he couldn't beat Quarin even if he tried.

Quarin fired and the stream of light flew straight towards lenith's head. It flew right passed him and into the glass that was surrounding them. Lenith covered his head trying to keep himself from getting cut by the raining glass shards falling from above. Quarin turned around and aimed straight for the crowd who ran away screaming in fear of their victor. He saw the pent house window and saw Mr. Rikard grinning at him. Quarin mischievously grinned back as he fired at him. His weapon clicked indicating he was out of ammo. Quarin's face melted into a frown. He threw the gun and grabbed his hunters knife and threw it as hard as he could. It barely reached the edge of the platform.

"Damn you!! Bastards!!"

Lenith slowly rose as the glass pieces fell off of him.

The announcer exclaimed, "We have our winners!!"
The crowd although,still fear struck cheered.

The platforms soon sunk back into the abyss. Quarin didn't lose eye contact with Rikard until it was no longer possible. He went to Lenith and helped pull the glass out of his palish skin.
"Sorry about that Len."
Lenith sighed and let out a slight chuckle, "I'm just glad you didn't shoot me."
Quarin smirked, "I told you, we're on the same team."

Lenith breathed heavily and ran his fingers through his hair, "I wonder if Orin made it.."
Quarin looked up, "Lets hope not.."
Lenith glared and shook his head.

They finally reached the weapons room and put their weapons back on the tables and were led into another room where there were several beds where the 15 victors sat. Orin was one of them. They were getting fixed up by the doctors.

Quarin laid on the bed and stared at the gray ceiling, he thought to himself, 'And they expected me to kill my friends...ha. They don't know outlanders very well...we're unpredictable.'