CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Orientation

 There is always – certainly – a time or a point in your life when you ponder over the weight and price of your existence. If you were a number what would it be? If someone had to put you into place and rank you in order of importance where, on the spectrum, would you lie?

Numbers were a strange thing – a meaningless means to define things in relation to others and yet it was also an undeniably inevitable system invented to categorise and order the world. It strategically summoned its subjects by playing them off each others’ deepest, darkest insecurities.

Fairly late into the night, the prison cells were unlocked and each time a door was unbolted, it sent a thunderous cacophony down the empty halls that were filling up with chained prisoners. It echoed right into the pits of Jaehwa’s empty stomach and pierced through Soojung’s chest as she stood behind the older girl.

They had barely uttered a single word to each other but not out of ignorance – both were emotionally and physically exhausted. The two girls studied their neighbors in confusion as they lined up against the wall in single file.

Up in front of Jaehwa was a mass of short electric blue hair and further up ahead in the line was a scrawny boy. At the very front, leading the pack was a voluptuous woman who stood with an awkward kink in her leg – her knees bent so far inward that you always anticipated the moment her knees touched but they never quite did. Behind Soojung was a group of young men that carried a queer unsanitary scent – like piss but not quite as assertive and yet just as persistent.

“What the Hell is going on?” Soojung muttered into Jaehwa’s shoulder.

Jaehwa simply shook her head as her large eyes took in the growing crowd. After moments of trying to figure out an adequate answer to Soojung’s question, the line began to move with an abrupt tug. The thick gangling of metal chains serenaded their heavy steps as they made their way through the halls into a pitch-black room.

“Soojung?” Jaehwa cocked her head to the side to listen for any signs of the girl’s presence.

Surely, Soojung replied, “I’m here. Are you ok?”

“I can’t see.” Jaehwa felt a chilling draught travel down her shirt and tickle her senses to life. She blinked profusely, hoping her eyes would adjust but everything was done to no avail. As she kept walking, she felt the ground beneath her grow damp and slightly slimy, as though she were stepping on some kind of moss.

“Neither can-“ Soojung’s voice dropped considerably and Jaehwa stiffened when she sensed the presence of someone close by. The sound of their husky breath seemed too close – so close she could almost feel its breath on her skin. 

She trembled and tried to stand as still as possible. She didn’t dare to speak – she didn’t even dare to breathe. Instead, she closed her eyes and hoped for the best. Just when she thought she was going to pass out she heard a resonating thud that sounded like a power generator turning back on and before she could even open her eyes, a strong current of water forced her body into the wall behind her.

The water seemed to run for ages, painfully piercing her skin as the cold seeped into her bones like liquid steel. She felt each droplet prick her like ice and even when she curled into a ball on the floor, she still felt it everywhere – unforgiving in its wrath.

When it stopped, her body had remembered the patterns of pain, fear and breathlessness and for a while, it seemed to go on and on, even when it was all over. She was shivering and the burn in her marred thighs returned with unwelcomed ease. She glanced over her shoulder and found Soojung in the same predicament – face pale, lips purple and the veins in her skin a solid blue beneath her white skin.

A muffled squeak came through the rusty speakers before an ironically happy carousel tune began to play. She listened carefully as a ripple of murmurs coursed through the gasping crowd.

Soojung felt the hairs on her body stand from the tune alone and when they reached the interlude, she almost choked. “WELCOME TO THE TOURNAMENT.” They sung. “WELCOME TO THE TOURNAMENT.” They chorused. “MAY DEATH PREVAIL AS THE LIVING GO ON SALE AND THE DEAD ARE IN THE MAIL. SO WHY DON’T YOU JUMP ON THE SCALE? BUT REMEMBER THAT YOU BETTER NOT FAIL.” Music and then, “WELCOME TO THE TOURNAMENT.”

A deadly silence hung in the air before there was the dull sound of a microphone zapping to life. A low chuckle that most certainly wasn’t meant to be broadcasted was heard. A cough. “Now that you stinking bastards are clean, you’ll receive your numbers.”

The voice behind the microphone sounded nasally and had a formal etiquette that seemed almost comical when juxtaposed against the language used. Jaehwa lifted her head and watched as black clothed men marched in through the doors of the square room they were in. It was a marbled grey room with green-grey slime built up in the tiles and in the opposite wall, there were holes that presumably had installed mechanisms that shot water from them, like pistols.

A shriek came from the far end of the line and Jaehwa felt the prisoner’s pain resonate all the way to her body through the chains. It wasn’t until she found a pair of feet standing before her that she realized why. The masked man reached down for her hand roughly and brought out a red hot iron wand and slapped it onto her skin.

For a second there was only fear because she’d expected the pain before it came but when the heat finally settled it, she didn’t even have the voice to scream. There was just a silent note that seemed to ring endlessly in her voice box but it was saved only for her and no one else. When she was branded he pulled a small flask from his pocket and sprinkled powder onto her skin and she watched, with an empty gaze, as the red ashy dust adhered to her burnt flesh.

Her hand shook violently on its own accord, even when he left and she drew it to her chest with care. She tried to nurture it but there was nothing she could do but stare at the bold black 2 that was glaring back at her.

“The numbers you have been given are the numbers you will answer to and they will be the only things you answer to in the days to come.” The speaker cackled for a dramatic pause, “But first of all, congratulations on being selected for the very prestigious black tie event of the decade. You will be the crowning jewel and the entertainment of the night – you have been given the opportunity of competing for your life, your justice and your freedom. Look around you.”

The people in the room scanned each other’s faces, “These are the faces of your opponents. The people you must kill for your ultimate salvation.”

Jaehwa felt a tug at her shirt and when she turned around Soojung mouthed, ‘Is this a joke?’