Within a quick movement Lilly lifted her gun but did not shoot, she could hear the kids noisy footsteps. Sam leant against the wall, his back to the audience, he looked around the corner, only barely letting his head show but Lilly took the opportunity. Her gun was already in line. She pulled the trigger and before Sam could move his head. Bang.
The bullet struck his forehead, the explosive round moved straight through the kids brains. Lilly shook herself, placing the gun back into its home. "Rest in Peace, huh kid?" She did not smile, nor did she frown. Her face was blank as she walked from the arena again. After two kids she decided to rest for the day.
Jamie looked shell-shocked as he saw his brother get shot down, or to pieces. He waited till the announcer allowed him to collect his brothers body. Or what was left of it. Lilly watched as Jamie carried his brother's body through the combatants waiting area. "Hey, boy!" She called, quickly walking toward him. She felt no remorse for what she did, but she could fake sympathy easily.
She walked with him as they went to the morgue. The bodies of the fallen warriors lined tables; abandoned by their families. "I'm hardly a boy, Lilly." He remarked, his voice cold. "Well, how old are you then kid?" She asked, she knew he wasn't a kid, he looked older than her even. But she picked up her accent and vocabulary from her father, "Bastard." She thought.
"Twenty one. So don't call me kid either." He laid his brother down on an empty table. She looked at him, he was older than her. "Huh, well it's a habit. I'm sorry about your brother."
"I doubt it." He looked around for the undertaker, but alas could not find him. "No, I am." She lied, "I wasn't about to let myself be killed."
"Ugh. You're just like Sam."
She thought on this for a while, she didn't know the name of her opponent, but she was sure that now she knew she would remember. "I'm sorry. My fighting here is just an inheritance."
"Truly, I am sorry." The more she said it, the more she believed it. "Here, I'll call the undertaker for you." She reached in her pocket for her phone, the undertaker was never in. He wasn't normally needed, hence the piles of bodies.
"What do you mean 'what?’?” He glared. "You know what. Just leave me alone."
She handed him her gun, "Here. Shoot." She opened her arms wide, after tapping her chest above her heart.
He looked from her to the gun and a look of disgust flickered across his face. "I'm not like you, or Sam." He threw the gun to the floor.
"That's good to hear. At least your heart is still intact." She let the soft smile spread across her lips as she picked up the gun.
"You do talk a load of bollocks, don't you?"
"Ha, if you want to call it that then sure."
"What would you call it?"
"No, you're right. But it is true. As soon as you enter this place, you lose your heart, your soul too I would imagine."
"I don't plan on coming here again. I only came because Sam needed a lift, and he wanted me to watch."
"Well, I am sorry." She said it this time, she actually meant it. "If you ever want revenge, you just call; my apartment is in the east block down there."
"I don't want revenge; I just wish I was better at persuading."
"You mean your brother, right?"
"I have only myself to blame for him being on the table." he nodded
"Would you like a drink?" She asked, "I'm gonna retire for the day if you would."
"No. I'm going to go home."
"Do you have your parents still?" She realised this was an odd question, but that was quite a popular reason for people to fight in the bloodbox.
“No. Not really.”
“Oh, so you’re alone?”
"I am now."
"So, accept my offer."
"Company of course, although I'm sure I'm not the best company right now, it's still an offer."
He smiled tightly. "Thanks, but I don't think I really want to spend the rest of the night with the person that killed my brother."
"Then not the rest of the night, a few hours."
"Why are you being so insistent?"
She shrugged. "It's been a few years. Three in fact since I last had someone to talk to, but indeed the choice is yours." She shrugged again, before turning to walk from the morgue. She was sure that was the reason however, she wasn't sure.
He watched her a moment, glancing back at Sam. "Sorry," he whispered to the corpse, before following Lilly out. He didn't know why he was following her, but it was better than going home alone and sitting around contemplating his brother's death.
"Truthfully, I'm not normally sorry. But in this case, I am. I hate to see kids get roped into stuff like this. It makes them either heartless or dead." She realised this was rather cold so she turned to him. "I'm sorry."
"He didn't get roped in. I just didn't... rope him out."
"Well, still. My place is always open if you need someone to talk to."
"Thanks. I think." The walk to the east block wasn’t far as the warrior’s apartments were attached to the main building. She unlocked the door and ushered him in, although still she didn’t realise why.
She shrugged it off. No problem, drink? I have all sorts of alcohol, or coffee."
"Water, will be fine,"
"Sure." She said, grabbing a glass and filling it. "Here.
"Thanks." He took it, but didn’t drink.
"I should have let him kill me huh?" She sighed while making herself a glass of bourbon. She sat down next to him as it was the only seat left. She drunk down the liquid and smiled as it warmed her throat.
He shrugged. "It's a stupid sport."
"I know, but at least I have no one left to upset if I died."
"So? It doesn't matter if you have someone to upset or not, lives shouldn't be gambled for other people's entertainment."
"Yeah, but what else am I supposed to do with my life?"
"What does anyone else usually try to do? Get a job and a home and someone to live with and be happy. That kinda thing, the bloodbox is just a sick joke."
"Oh, what's your experience? I'm highly flexible and only need one bullet to kill someone?" She rolled her eyes, placing her glass on the table beside them. "Great."
"Go get other experience then. It's not hard."
"What do you work as?" She wanted to change the subject, trying to cover the fact she had gotten to like killing people.
"I run a gym."
"Wow. That would explain..." she trailed looking over him, "your body." She finished, forgetting she was covered in blood. "But I don't think I can change so easily."
He arched an eyebrow at her comment. "Just go to those school classes for adults or whatever they are. I dunno."
She shook her head, gazing absently at the blank TV opposite them. "No, I can't legally I have to fulfil my time here."
"Huh?" He looked to her confused. "Legally?"
"I killed my father in that stupid box. In his will my father said that if ever he got killed I must fulfil the rest of my years in the box until I am twenty-one. Then I will get all his money he earned."
"Right. And how old are you?"
"That's not so long..." he trailed off. She was the same age as his brother.
"It's long enough. I'll probably be dead till then." He paused, not knowing what to say. “I’m sorry. You can go if you want.” She stood, looking at him waiting intently for the answer.