During my third week at Garrenbuck things got better and worse. Better because I was not subject to another ridiculous reflex test nor did they force us into the rain, which had since turned to snow. But it was worse, because they had other methods of 'testing' us. The week started with a group test, a true sign of its nebulous ending before it had even began. Esther and I were assigned to the same group. I clung to her as she clung to me, neither one of us were used to being the strong one.

They had carroled thirty or so kids into the complex closest to the fence. It was very clean, smelt of ammonia cleaning solution and the floors didn't bare a single scratch which was a normal characteristic in the other complexes. Those were used frequently with a constant tread of people streaming in and out. I liked this complex the best because it was closest to the city and while I couldn't hear the buzzing of civilization, I found it easier to pretend. I also liked the complex because while small, it did not contain as many doors or hallways as the others, leaving little mystery to the eye. There were two floors, separated by a single staircase and metal railing. The first floor walls were lined with wide compartments, almost like lockers but larger and made from a synthetic formula. Each compartment was locked with a combination and finger recognition pad, impossible for us to break into. I observed the locks with a quick, uninterested glance before leaning forward to catch a glimpse of the second floor, where the G.S. soldiers were leading us.

Below the second landing, there was a concrete floor, smooth and clean, covered with six blue mats, equally spaced apart. The mats reminded me of my childhood when Adam had decided to join the wrestling team after much pressure by his friends in Junior High. He only wrestled for two years, the first being quite successful as he was still relatively skinny. Unfortunately for him the following year he was on the cusp of manhood, a few measly hairs sprouting beneath his nose and a thin pack of muscles residing on his arms and abdomen, leaving him a few pounds heavier than the previous year. A majority of those boys in that weight class had competed in the same faction the year before and the year before that. They were prepared and experienced in the art of flipping boulders, whereas my brother was only practiced in flipping rocks.

Esther dug her talons into my forearm, creating purplish crescent indents into the skin. The marks would only mold with my other bruises, creating a strange watercolor impressionist painting on my flesh. I was alerted by her sudden display of nerves. The pint-sized genius had a voice that often fell flat with apathy, her pale eyes unflinchingly cold and unresponsive. She was not the sort of person who seemed easily shaken, so, I unnerved by her distress. Glancing at her in hopes of understanding, I noticed as she fixed her bleak stare fixated on the blue mat closest to our boots, a faded stain resided on its left corner. It was colorless but smelt strongly of chemicals, as though someone had tried an assortment of cleaning products to remove it.

"Blood," She mouthed when I looked back at her.

Now it was my turn to flinch.

In the past two weeks I had witnessed more death than I ever had in my entire life. Three bodies, cold, lifeless and arbitrarily strewn across the ground like a decorative rug. After the first death I wanted to cry. It had happened in slow motion, like a tragic ending to an equally tragic movie. Then, after the second, I wanted to scream, Later, in the confinements of our cell I would realize that he would have died regardless. Whether it be then or sometime later, when he failed to pass another obstacle. Life, was not a sprint but a marathon, there's no time to catch breath- you will only be given the chance to breathe once you've reached the finish line, chest heaving, heart palpitating and stomach twitching. There is no relief or celebration when you cross that line, just exhaustion and the overwhelming urge to close your eyes.

The third to die was a girl. We were sitting in the canteen, Esther, Ana, Joan and I, as we had began to make a habit when suddenly a scream sounded and then, the girl began to convulse in her seat. We were ushered back into to our cells before I could get a good look at her but I had managed to overhear one of the nurses, who was always stationed close to the doors say it was a seizure. The nurse had been holding something in her hand that bared a striking resemblance to the bands we wore but the band was white. Just like Ana's. I didn't think twice about the girl, not because I had become hardened to death, not yet at least, but because I was far more distracted by her band.

Whatever could it mean?

It made sense that Esther was able to spot the stain so easily due to her condition. There were two boys standing on the other side of the crowd, whose gazes had also latched onto the spot, no hunger resonating on their faces but rather an awareness. I would have decided it was vomit stain first, my mind not willing to go to such a dark place. It was then, whilst gazing at the two vampire fledglings did I notice a familiar face. The jade prince, as I fondly referred to him in my head.

I think, if I would have seen him outside of these peculiar circumstances, I would have thought he was cute. Not in the 'schoolgirl crush' sort of cute but rather in the 'flipping through the airbrushed pages of a fashion catalogue' cute. If I were to look at him objectively, without the cuffs or without the puckered scar that curled around his chin and without the smattering of bruises on his arms, he would have been beautiful. With his tanned skin, exaggerated cheekbones and pouty lips, he had the potential to be one of those pretty boys who didn't look completely real.

Perhaps that was the one thing that dissuaded me from thinking Ana and he had any relation, because while he was beautiful she was most certainly not. Ana was striking, otherworldly, and perhaps the the poster-child for what an Other should like. But there were some notable similarities that could not ignored such as the same eyes, same skin tone, same nose- slender and curved, and they even shared the same mannerisms. Like how he acted without any noticeable emotion. Just another moving statue.

"Girls on the left, boys on the right," the doctor said.

He was a new doctor.

There was always a new doctor at Garrenbuck, they might have been employed for years but there was an abundance of them, constantly rotating so that I could never grow to remember any of them. They did that with the guards too, every morning and evening there was a new pair to escort me to or from my humble dwellings. I think I preferred it that way, therefore if I had a doctor I didn't particularly like or one who didn't particularly like me, I wouldn't be forced to bear their presence. All the data was shared
in those glass tablets they held so near and dear to their twisted hearts. I suppose after this whole endeavor, I would find myself with an irrational fear of doctors. White Coat Syndrome. Not that I'm sure it would ever be a problem in the Otherworld as I doubted they had doctors and hospitals and nurses.

We scurried to the left side of the room, tripping over one another to reach out spots. The guards watched through the darkened visors that hung from their gray helmets, the American bald eagle painted on the side. That was a new addition, I thought to myself, a strange, new accessory to add to their patriotism as if any of us had ever questioned it. I didn't think twice about why they might need it, or why, they still stood on the second landing, their guns stationed on the metal railing, pointed at us. I had been around so many guns in the past three weeks that I didn't bat an eye at the intimidating visual. Rather thinking in a blasè tone, Dear God- it would really suck to get shot today.

Esther's thoughts seemed to be following in a similar pattern as mine, as she relaxed her grip on me. The Doctor paced in between the two perfect rows. He stood alone unlike in my other testing sessions where there were multiple doctors or nurses standing by to offer their help. He did not seem fazed by such an arrangement, his shoulders were rolled back, hands clasped behind his back and glass tablet tucked in the front pocket of his lab coat. Nor did he seem bothered by our close proximity which led me to believe he did this often. His lips curved upwards into a taunting smirk, as he stopped and surveyed the crowd. He was enjoying this, I realized almost shocked.

"Dear, please step forward," he beckoned two fingers at a heavier set girl who stood closest to the stairs.

She had been trying to hide behind the large, amazonian type character who stood beside her. She must have arrived during the same week I did, as her body still retained its softness, a privilege of being able to sleep without being absolutely ravenous. Two scoops of brown mush a day was hardly enough to fill the stomach.

The girl balked at his order, looking as if she wanted to point to herself and ask for reassurance that she had heard right. He nodded, reading her apprehension easily, like a children's book. The girl took a timid step forward, swallowing heavily as if she desired to swallow her own tongue. The doctor took note of her band, a soft lilac color. A potential witch. He then turned abruptly and studied the row on the right, it ranged from boys, frail and unsuspecting to nearly developed men, who despite light starvation, maintained their power in their confident stance. The Jade Prince stood somewhere in the middle.

"You," He snapped flippantly and a large, hunking figure emerged from the line.

He offered the doctor a reserved nod of acknowledgement before looking at the girl who cowered in front of him. I doubted the girl knew what would happen in the upcoming moments but he seemed perfectly at ease, a veteran perhaps.

"Stand on the mats. Yes like that. No dear, a little to left," He ordered in a patronizing tone, which I would later discover was his only tone of speaking.

"Unlike my colleagues, I like to make you all aware of what is happening and the purpose of such a test. You have been tested in reflexes, endurance and now strength. A pair will fight and preferably not till the death," He placed his boot on top of the blood stained mat, "We just recently cleaned these."

My stomach curled, as I looked back at the girl again, her eyes blinking rapidly as she fought back tears. She was seconds away from a nervous breakdown and nobody seemed to care, certainly not the boy she was facing and certainly not the doctor, who looked nearly gleeful.

"You can't honestly expect them to fight, can you?" I spoke in a moment of fury.

Esther latched back onto my arm, her nails cutting into their previous indentations as the guards who were previously lazing above, now stood at full alert, waiting for an order. As for the doctor, he looked nearly as shocked as I was that someone would dare speak. I expected him to blow up into a fit of rage, blubbering about how I had ruined his moment. I expected thirty bullets to burrow tiny craters into my heart but the seconds ticked by in a suspended agony and the blubbering never began and the bullets never arrived. Rather, a large cheshire grin unfurled on his face, as if somehow I had managed to entertain him.

"Please forgive me, dear," He addressed me before turning back to the crowd. Like a teacher who was about to share something with the class. "I forgot to explain the second half of my method: the purpose. This may seem like a cruel and unusual punishment to Miss Jezebel."

The girl's brows furrowed, that was not her name.

"It is our duty to help define who you are truly. However, we believe, that it would be especially cruel for us to not show you children, how awful the world can truly be. Now imagine here, in this awful world, a situation is presented where this unmatched pair must fight. It is hardly fair. Now imagine the Otherworld, that horrid, dank place overrun by monsters and imagine a fight has broken out. What do you think shall happen then?"

I didn't see the point to his whole spiel. It just sounded like another convoluted excuse for the government to wreck us a bit more before finally shipping us off.

"However dear, as you seem so worried for poor Janey's life," The girl's nose crinkled, not her name again, "You may trade places with her."

My heart had chose that abrupt moment to stop. I stared at the doctor, the fear and shock swelling my gaze, he smiled once more and then, I looked at the girl who looked ready to faint. I felt the same, my head becoming increasingly light, but for vastly different reasons. Without giving me a choice the girl scuttled back to her spot, hiding behind a large tree trunk of a girl. The boy, who she was supposed to fight, looked at me with an unenthusiastic stare and shrugged.

As if following through the steps to a dance I didn't quite know, I mimicked the girl's timid step onto the mat. The mat folded beneath the weight of my feet, allowing me to leave two small impressions. I felt compelled to drag my toe across the strange fabric as if I were a match against a matchbox, hopeful to leave any sort of mark. Maybe then, I'd be lucky enough to be like the poor soul who bled on the mat beside me, they were gone but forever immortalized in the terrified whispers of prisoners to come. Everyone, I realized, a second later was staring at me. Compelled with the same horrific fascination that eclipses the attention of a bystander to a fatal car crash, I was unable to do anything but watch. Even he was staring at me.

"No tips?" I wetted my lips. I was already feeling slightly hysterical at the sudden shift in circumstance, so I didn't see any reason to reel back on the madness.

"None. Begin."

My opponent lunged forward, opting to grab me rather than striking with a punch. I managed to wriggle free from his grasp, leaping to the other side of the mat. I balanced myself on one leg as I felt myself wobble. I had never moved so fast in my life but I suppose that was because I never needed to. He looked down at his meaty paws, perplexed as to why there wasn't a small girl strangled between them. Rather than waiting another second I struck, kicking at the inside of his knees. He fell to praying formation and I kicked him once again, not trusting my fists. When I was younger, and Adam had been going through his first attempt at Wrestling, he often used me as a dummy rather than Christine who would have probably collapsed to tears in his hands. I learned early on that my chubby little fists felt like nothing more than pebbles on his back, so I tried my knees, wrecking his intestine before colliding his face with my foot.

Pulling my knee up, I nearly recoiled in horror as a sickening crack sounded from his chest. He was lying on his back, his chest expanding and falling like a swell in the ocean, breath escaping his lips in short pants. I stopped and turned to the doctor who had been observing us with a raised brow. I had watched WWE enough times, meaning once, to know that the match was over when one opponent could not get back up. The doctor did nothing to move the session further, rather opting, to remain silent, his head cocked to the side as if questioning my move. It was then, that I felt the heat of large body radiating behind me. Before I even had the chance to look back I was lifted in the air, two hands wrapped around my neck.

The last thing to enter my field vision was the blue bland wrapped around his freed wrist. A blue classifying the giant as a werewolf.

**Sorry! I wanted to upload this sooner but it's really difficult to edit on the beach, as you can probably see. Hope you like the story and our new cover anyway!**