Part I

"You knew she was powerful. Now you know how powerful she really is, the queen of Carnage."

I smile thinly at my newest victim, the man daring to challenge me earlier, now shaking in his shoes. He was no match for me.

Despite my being 16, I could pack a real punch if I had to.

But he dared disrespect me, and hence he is here. At my mercy. But I, sparing him, will be a wrongful doing, because men like these taint the world.

His wide brown eyes stare at me in horrified fear and he continues to whimper, as if the sound would lead me to spare his life.

I simply pick up a sharp dagger.

He screams and says hoarsely, "Please I'm sorry, don't kill me!"

"Oh, really, you're sorry now?" My smile turns sweet and to my disgust, he nods eagerly. "Well, I have only two words for you."

Too late.

I drive the dagger into his stomach carefully, relishing his screams. The blood flows out like a dark red river, and I touch it.

It soaks into my skin, and I hold up my fingers, red liquid coils out of them like a magical wisp.

I laugh in delight, glad at having fully replenished my powers. These are the best abilities a person can have and I have them.

"Crimson?"

I turn to the door, where Sunny stands. He wears, as usual, his usual bright smile and a psychotic glint shines in his blue eyes.

His hair is as golden as his name, sleek and messy. In one hand he carries a pamphlet, in the other a paper cup filled undoubtedly with coffee.

I, naturally, make a beeline for the coffee, snatching it out of his hand with a smirk at Sunny. "Thanks," I drawl. "It helps."

He huffs. "Be nicer."

Then we laugh. Sunny and I have been friends ever since I came to this damned place. Having him around makes me feel better.

Where are we? Only at the Arena of Insanity, the night circus where bloody battles give us the money and motivation to survive.

"So what's today?" I ask, gulping down the much needed caffeine.

Sunny's smile fades. "Genevra and Carter have their battle. Which one could die?"

"I don't know." I set down the cup, my earlier good mood faded. "Either way, I don't want anyone to die. It's so brutal, watching our friends just die like that."

"Yeah," Sunny sounds quieter than usual. He looks at me and tries for a smile.

"It's okay," I tell him.

"Crimson, tomorrow's your battle, aren't you afraid?" Sunny asks me, scooting closer as if ready to comfort me.

"No," I say with a fake smile plastered over my face. "Why should I be? I'm a strong opponent to be against, I can do it. I know."

Sunny shakes his head. He doesn't believe me and I understand.

Why would he?

"Say, what's in the pamphlet?" I question, giving the paper a quick glance before meeting his eyes again.

"Oh, it's an advertisement for Bonnie, I forgot to give it to her." Sunny waves his hand nonchalantly while I snicker at the mistake.

"Bonnie will have you for breakfast if there's even one pamphlet missing, you get that?"

"I do," he answers, making a face. "But she will have to wait if she wants it, because you're more important than this circus is."

"Don't let Marcus catch you saying that, you'll lose your head."

Our heads snap to the doorway, where Bonnie stands, a narrow smile on her pallid face. She looks like a mix of pretty and erratic, with her short, pixie-cut platinum hair and large forest green eyes paired with her pale skin.

"Oh, Bonnie, hi."

Sunny clears his throat, looking at her sheepishly. "And yeah, uh, I'll try not to let him hear that."

"I'll have that, thank you." She snatches the pamphlet from his hand and adds it to her already high pile of the same sheets.

"Where is Marcus, anyway? I wanted to ask him where exactly we're going today," I say.

"He's gone out somewhere, possibly to the same town we're visiting."

Marcus is the ringmaster of our Arena, a dark, evil man with a sick sense of humor. He named himself 'Marcus'. Nobody knows his real name, though, and it's a mystery.

Bonnie's eyes fall on the dead man and she sighs in exasperation. "Okay, honestly, Crimson, another one?! It must have been the fourth one this week."

"Third," I answer, scowling.

Bonnie throws her hands up and and walks out the room, shaking her head, which makes her short hair bounce crazily. She's that way.

Sunny laughs. "You'll get on her last nerve one day, Crim."

"Maybe I will." I down the remaining coffee in a gulp and toss the empty cup in a wastepaper basket. "But there are 7 trillion of those. Now help me, will you?"

"To move a dead body? Sure, that's what we do everyday," Sunny jokes and I shoot him an unamused look, fighting back a smile.

"I meant to bury it, Sunny," I deadpan. "And if you don't shut up with those jokes you're next."

"Ooh, feisty." He laughs.

I open my mouth to make another witty comment, but he cuts me off with a, "I know, you prefer me saying spirited."

"Nice to see you know me so well," I say, sarcasm almost dripping off my tone like venom.

He talks to me all the way there, the smile never fading from his bright eyes that shine when he looks at me. I smile too, at his cheer.

Only Sunny knows me well enough to make me laugh.

On the way, we run into Bonnie again, and she looks at the dead body first and then our unconcerned (and as far as it goes, smiling) faces.

"You two are an odd pair," she comments. "I have never seen anyone look so happy while dragging a cold corpse behind them."

"We do it half the time."

I glance at Sunny. He's stony faced for a minute, looking at Bonnie with an air that seems almost challenging.

"Sure, you do," Bonnie offers with a tight lipped smile. "I have to go now, give these to Marcus... Er, good luck depositing that."

She walks away with quick, hurried footsteps.

"You okay?" I ask Sunny, and am pleased to see that his mood hasn't completely soured.

"Yes, yes I am," he tells me. "But don't worry, Bonnie knows when not to mess with us, doesn't she?" He smirks, and so do I.

"Hell yes she knows."

Together we drag the body out into the countryside. It is just a normal day in the circus, after all.

It is not long before we catch sight of other people. "Sunny," I murmur, and he nods, putting up an illusion of two teenagers walking casually.

All of us in the Arena have certain special abilities. For example, my blood magic. Sunny's ability is to create illusions. It comes in handy.

"Crimson, what's your strategy for tomorrow?" Sunny asks me.

That's a good question. I suppose I should start preparing for tomorrow's battle. It's against someone called HyperSonic. His ability is called metal sound, which is painful.

My own ability can only activate once the opponent has been injured. It may be powerful, but as most powers, it too has it's drawbacks, this being one.

Getting close enough to injure HyperSonic will be difficult, because the sound emitted through his power may even be fatal.

However, I am talented with all kinds of weaponry. I've had to be, since there is no other way to activate blood magic.

Sunny is only able to remain silent for a few more minutes before talking again. "So what do you think? Carter or Genevra?" I snap out of it.

"Genevra. No contest."

He leans to look at me curiously. "Are you sure about that? Carter isn't a weak one either. He can manipulate water, right? And Genevra has artistic magic. He could wash away her art."

I scoff. "Nope, he can't. Genevra's art is special. She'll give you a performance to admire, don't worry."

"Maybe you'll be right. What about your little performance? What are you going to do today?" Sunny reminds me that it's my turn today.

I should explain. In the Arena, before every battle, a member has to give a small show to entertain the crowd. I have the stage this evening.

"I'll think of something," I say, casually shrugging. "I have all day."

Sunny's eyes narrow, and he opens his mouth to say something, but thankfully we arrive at the Arena Graveyard.

Chills run down my spine as I look out at the flat ground, bodies scattered underneath.

I feel a pang of guilt knowing that I have sentenced more than one of them to death, but they were all those who dared cross me after I said no.

"Sunny! Crimson!" Our friend Ben rushes over, grinning. He is the Keeper of the Graveyard. He takes his job very seriously- and cheerfully.

Ben smiles at me. "Another one?" He says, in a remarkable impression of Bonnie. I nod, laughing.

He takes the body from us and with a sweeping motion of his hand, buries it deep within the soil. I watch carefully as it sinks in, and murmur a prayer to wash away whatever guilt is left.

Once done, he turns back to us. "Is there anything else I can help with?"

"No, but thanks, Ben," Sunny responds before I can. He grips my arm. "We should get going, we still have chores to do and Crim has to prepare."

When we're out of earshot, I yank my arm away and glare at him. "What was that for? He frowns back.

"You're being careless."

I roll my eyes. "And what am I doing that's so careless, huh?" Sunny gives me a reproachful look. "You haven't even thought of anything for today."

Touché. "Alright but I still have time, like I said. It's fine." I'm not sure who I'm trying to convince, him or myself. I just need time. That's all.

Sunny shakes his head. "No, it isn't fine. And I'm not going to pretend that it is. We're going back, and then you act like you're sick. Stay in your room, Crimson."

I realize what he's getting at, and a grin comes to my face. "You're the best, Sunny. But isn't it too much for you to handle?"

He shakes his head. "Not really. I'm used to these chores. And you'd better not waste your time, or nobody will be as pissed off as me. Get it?"

I mock a salute. "Yes sir!" In reality, I'm grateful for the extra time.

It isn't just today's pressure on me. I have my battle tomorrow, and to be a pig for slaughter before hundreds of people is incredibly harsh.

However, I know I'm powerful. And I know that I am not giving up without a fight. As soon as we're back, I lock myself in the room and get to work on strategies immediately.

The day flies by, and Sunny trudges back into the room, exhaustion prominent in his features.

He wordlessly hands me a sandwich wrapped in foil and collapses on the other bed. "You have only half an hour more, Crim. I hope you're ready."

True to his words, half an hour later, the door opens again and Bonnie stands there, eyes shadowed and face grim. It feels almost like an execution.

"Crimson, you're up."