BloodsportJackSFootball2

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The other students are snapped out of their thoughts and celebration. A few of them look to you, wordlessly asking permission to leave.

"Let's go," you say.


The rest of your class makes their way to the door. You follow just behind, but the others part way for you. You start walking toward the football field, and soon, the rest of the class falls in step behind you. The short journey to the football field is silent and awkward. Halfway through, other classes join you in marching.


Before long, you arrive at the grassy field. The grass is dry and you can tell it hasn't been cut in a while. The sun overhead is bearing down on you. Sweat drips across your face You and your classmates take a spot near the middle.

You know for a fact the loudspeakers can only just barely be heard from here. However, the problem seems to have been fixed today as an announcement comes in at a deafening volume.

"I've been studying your country's bloody history. I find it fascinating. "

For a brief moment, all the students begin talking at once.

"SILENCE!"

Definitely not an office worker.

"I particularly like the ones you call World Wars." She pauses.

The next statement and the giddiness in her tone leaves you floored.

"You are going to reenact them for me, children."

You shout back at the disembodied voice, "Are you nuts?"

However, the grass underneath your feet shifts, and you are plunged downward towards the earth. Through it, about six feet down.

In your hands is a rifle.

Peek over the top of the ditch

Stay put and process what just happened.


Bloodsport.
I Am: Jack S. I'm In:

The Trenches.

I Feel: Minor Blood Loss.
Kills: 1.
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