My vision turned hazy, consumed by a white fog that seemed to shimmer like static. My brain tingled, and I could feel the hair on my arms stand up. When the feeling of nausea subsided and my butt unclenched, I was met with iron bars.

Yup. I was in a cage.

I nearly fell over as it swayed with each small movement. When I couldn't maintain my balance, I attacked the bars with my forehead. Intentionally, of course.

The constant motion brought back my nausea, and the height from which my cage hung forced my butthole to pucker once more.

The only consolation I had was that the biker dude was having a worse time. Due to his size, he didn't fit in his cell. In contrast, I had room to spare.

Seeming to sense my smugness, his dejected voice carried itself to my ears.

"Damn. I never fit inside."

I felt incredible shame for writing such a character. If I could control+alt+delete, I would.

My silent tears were interrupted when my cage jerked sideways. Along with everyone else, we were moving steadily in a single direction.

The scenery was reminiscent of an iron hell: foreboding grey metal and furious red furnaces. Boiling pots of molten magma melted maleficent metals, molding the malleable metal into master crafts.

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A prison factory.

This was behind the scenes of the "Box". They needed lots of cages to hold the monsters they were about to import and generate from other worlds. Using them for humans in the meantime was simple efficiency.

Massive masterworks moved methodically along a conveyor belt. Humans were deposited inside like candy falling into a trick-or-treaters knapsack.

Even with the loud whirr of machinery, the clear cries of helpless humans resounded throughout the complex. Tortured wails and despondent sobs blended together in a cacophony reminiscent of a catastrophic symphony.

The sounds of people dying. Guts being spilled. Lives being wrought.

Despite the realism of the situation. I was still disconnected. I could think clearly as if I were watching it all through a monitor.

Strange.

"Hey, Squirt! Looks like it's our turn."

Carefully moving my head so as not to rattle the cage more than necessary, I noticed we were at the head of the line. Last stop before the drop. I didn't think that we would actually be paired with each other, but it seemed plot progression had a will of its own.

We dangled precariously over a barred arena that was a cross between an MMA ring and a death metal stage. Just as I tried to gleam more information, I found myself falling.

*Thump*

"Ow."

I landed on my face. It hurt.

If anything, I lamented that I didn't see glowing red numbers displaying my lost health. Alas, this wasn't that type of game.

Rubbing the soreness away. I realized the floor was filled with a fine, black powder.

No... Did I really-

*BOOM*

As if in answer to my question, a distant cage exploded in glorius fire, the gust reaching all the way here from the other end of the assembly line. It kicked up the powder at my feet and sent it swirling into my delicate face.

"Ack. It's up my nose. Ick."

I had to sneeze. Badly. However, it wouldn't come. Feeling the powder stuck inside, I jammed a finger up there and wiggled it, trying to free the loose grains.

"Contestant."

And that's how I met my first sponsor.