Fred didn't know how long he sat there beside the rusted shell of the vehicle.
Time no longer made sense here.
The sky overhead was a dull, endless gray, leaking a cold drizzle that soaked him to the bone.
Each breath fogged the air, each heartbeat thudded in his ears like a drum.
He was thinking — for the first time — that maybe he wouldn't make it after all.
When the stranger found him.
> "You're Fred, aren't you?"
The voice was low, careful.
Fred jerked his head up, muscles tensed, ready to run or fight.
The man who stood over him was tall and wrapped in a tattered black coat that smelled faintly of iron and smoke.
His face was hidden beneath a hood.
Only his mouth was visible — a cruel, amused smile that didn't reach his hidden eyes.
Fred didn't answer.
The stranger crouched beside him, close enough for Fred to smell the cold leather of his gloves.
> "Don't bother lying," the man murmured.
> "We've been watching you."
Fred's blood ran cold.
> Watching me?
The man dropped something into Fred's lap.
A small, black coin.
It was heavy, ice-cold against Fred's fingers.
Etched into its surface was a strange symbol: a serpent eating its own tail.
The man stood.
> "Tonight. The Hollow."
> "Bring the coin, or don't bother breathing tomorrow."
Without waiting for a response, he melted into the fog.
Gone.
Like he had never been there.
Fred stared down at the coin, heart pounding.
He had no idea what The Hollow was.
But somehow, he knew he didn't have a choice.
---
That night, Fred followed the broken streets deeper into the ruins, guided by fear more than anything else.
The Hollow wasn't marked.
It wasn't on any map.
It simply existed — whispered about in dark corners.
It took him hours, wandering through alleys and broken tunnels, before he found it.
Or rather, before it found him.
A cracked archway, barely visible in the mist.
Two figures stood guard on either side, faces hidden beneath metal masks.
They said nothing as Fred approached, only extending skeletal hands.
Fred dropped the coin into one of their palms.
A heavy silence hung in the air.
The figure examined the coin, then stepped aside.
Fred entered.
--
The Hollow was worse than he had imagined.
It was an underground pit, surrounded by tiers of ragged survivors.
They watched with hollow eyes as new arrivals were herded into the center of the arena.
There were maybe a dozen of them — all young, all desperate.
Fred recognized some.
Maya was among them.
Theo, too.
They had survived the day... but not for long, perhaps.
The pit master stood on a crumbling balcony overhead — a woman wrapped in layers of black silk, her eyes sharp and predatory.
Her voice rang out:
> "Tonight," she announced, "you fight not for food. Not for water. But for a place in tomorrow."
A heavy silence.
Then she smiled — a smile colder than the grave.
> "Only six of you will leave alive."
Shock rippled through the pit.
Twelve in, six out.
The math was simple.
Fred's stomach twisted.
Around him, the others shifted, fear flashing across their faces.
Some already backed away, searching for exits that didn't exist.
Fred knew: there was no leaving.
There was only surviving.
---
The signal was a single chime — a soft, musical sound that seemed too beautiful for what came after.
Chaos exploded.
Maya lunged first — a broken pipe gripped in her hand.
She swung it at a lanky boy who barely dodged in time.
Screams echoed through the Hollow.
Fred moved instinctively, ducking a wild swing from another desperate survivor.
He didn't want to fight.
Didn't want to kill.
But survival didn't care about his morals.
Pain flared as something sharp grazed his ribs.
Fred twisted, slamming his elbow into his attacker's face.
The boy dropped with a moan, clutching his nose.
Fred stumbled backward, gasping.
Already two were down — one unconscious, another bleeding out from a gash across his throat.
The crowd roared.
---
It was Maya who betrayed him.
Of course it was.
While Fred was helping Theo — trying to pull him away from a snarling girl who had pinned him — Maya struck.
She didn't hesitate.
Didn't even blink.
The pipe came down hard against the back of Fred's shoulder, sending him sprawling.
Pain exploded through his body.
Theo screamed, but Maya was already moving.
She grabbed Theo by the hair and yanked him up, pressing the broken pipe against his throat.
> "One less," she hissed.
Fred struggled to rise.
His arm was numb, his vision swimming.
But he saw it — the terror on Theo's face.
And he made a choice.
A choice that would haunt him.
---
Fred surged forward with a ragged cry.
Maya turned just as he slammed into her, knocking Theo free.
They crashed to the ground, struggling.
The pipe clattered away.
Fred pinned Maya down.
For a moment, they stared at each other — two broken souls, caught in a nightmare neither had chosen.
Then she smiled.
Mocking.
Cruel.
> "You're too soft, Fred."
> "That's why you'll die first."
Fred's hand closed around a shard of broken glass lying nearby.
Tears blurred his vision.
He didn't want to do it.
But he had no choice.
Not anymore.
With a shuddering sob, he drove the glass into her chest.
Once.
Twice.
Until she stopped moving.
Until the crowd's roar faded into a dull, buzzing silence.
Fred stumbled back, covered in blood that wasn't his own.
Theo stared at him, wide-eyed.
Fred wanted to say something.
Anything.
But what words could make this right?
There were none.
---
When it was over, six stood.
Barely.
Bloodied.
Haunted.
The pit master descended the crumbling stairs, her silk dress trailing behind her.
She regarded them with a cold, pleased smile.
> "Congratulations," she said.
> "You are survivors."
> "You belong to us now."
Chains were brought out.
Not to imprison them — but to mark them.
A link of chain was wrapped around Fred's wrist.
Cold.
Unforgiving.
A promise of future battles.
Future betrayals.
Fred didn't resist.
He just stared at his bloody hands and wondered if he had truly survived at all.
Or if part of him had died down there, in the Hollow.
A part that would never come back.
---