I back away, my heart hammering, prepared for the wall ahead of me to lower and my opponents to race in and devour me. The screeching, grinding noise of the walls begins to sound out, and it starts to lower. The rats are clambering over one another, trying to be the first into the small space. Then, just as I hoped, the wall my back is pressed against begins to rotate. I barely have a second to press myself through the gap before it slams shut with a humongous crunching noise. The rats are locked up inside the tiny room on the other side. Within a matter of seconds, I hear the sounds of them tearing one another to pieces. The crowd erupts with applause, thrilled by the spectacle I’m giving them.

But of course, it’s not over. There will be more deformed creatures to fight. More races to run and hoops to leap through. I’m their entertainment for the evening. My only chance of survival is if I can draw the game out long into the evening, long enough for the troops back at the compound to realize I’m in trouble. Right now, I don’t care if I die in their bomb blasts. Anything would be preferable to playing this disgusting death game. Right now, a bomb strike would feel like mercy.

As the ground shakes and the maze disappears, I get my first look at the other competitors. Only three of them remain. The boy who attacked me is gone, swallowed by one of the putrid rodents. The sight makes me feel hollow, but the crowd loves it. They roar their approval, loving the entertainment and the way we are being slowly tortured to death. Of all the arenas I’ve fought, of all the crowds I’ve faced, these are by far the worst because they know better but have adopted a “rather you than me” attitude. The hatred I feel for them is all consuming.

The ground begins to shake again and when I look down, I see hot, boiling water bubbling up through the grid at my feet. It’s so hot, steam curls up with it, and bubbles pop on the surface. Then platforms rise up.

I have no choice. My instinct to survive is stronger than anything inside of me that wants to give up. I grab hold of a rope attached to a podium and start to swing across the burning water. I’m moving like a pendulum, back and forth, the whole time looking down to see what hybrid creature will be sent up to terrorize me. But instead of a creature, the water keeps on rising. My muscles scream in protest as I force myself to climb up the rope, inching myself away from the water that just keeps on rising.