Sam appeared, or perhaps materialised, he wondered, in a scape of mud which rose around his ankles. His combat training kicked in as he spread his feet shoulder width apart, one ahead of the other and lowered his stance, looking around him and assessing for threats. He was in a flat landscape, he could see straight in any direction and as he glanced around, other people began materialising around him. They were materialising is a scattered, dotted fashion, perhaps if one viewed them from above they would see a pattern in their assembly, but for Sam, at ground level, the people all seemed randomly spread.

There were people on all sides of him, the closest perhaps 10 metres away, a young, scrawny man, who probably wasn’t even 20 years old with wide eyes turned to lock eyes with him before glancing down at his bare feet, surrounded by the wet mud.

Mobility. Sam looked down at his own feet, lifting them experimentally. The mud didn’t prevent movement. He took a step forward without issue, feeling the light resistance you’d expect from mud. Sam figured it would certainly prevent someone from running around in this environment. He took another look at the terrain, mud was all he could see. This wasn’t a marshland or places with dotted grass, or even a valley – all places you’d expect to see mud gather, no, this was just one flat, large plane, as far as the eye could see, of ankle deep mud.

People seemed to stop materialising, he could see hundreds of people, perhaps thousands, as far as he could see in any given direction around him. Was that it? Was everyone who was going to arrive here already here? There was all of two seconds of stunned silence as people looked around them before chaos ensued.

People bursting into tears, some fainting outright, others demanding to know what was going on, Sam took it all in, looking around in silence. Just what the hell is going on, he thought to himself. The young man he’d made eye contact with earlier began stepping towards him.

“you’re British army, right? I can see the flag on your uniform, mate. I’m from Newcastle, what the actual fuck is goin’ on? Do you know?”

Sam wanted to roll his eyes. He was in his camouflage combat dress with a stitched Union Jack on the left shoulder, it was pretty damned obvious what he was, but he reminded himself, he was surrounded by people scared out their wits, and for this man, he was probably a sign of comfort at the moment. So, he bit his tongue and replied,

“Not a clue, come here and stay close.” Sam looked around, waiting for something to happen and spoke again. “I don’t like this, you got any combat experience, kid?” He wasn’t hopeful, but another combatant in an unknown situation would be a blessing right now.

“Fuck you, I ain’t a kid, and yeah, like last week when those scummy Man United fans came across and acting all hard before the game, I socked one of em’, if his mate hadn’t got in the way ad’ have battered em.”

Oh boy. A football hooligan, perfect company. No further exchange occurred as the third message of that day appeared.

Participant, welcome to the first floor of the Pyramid of Blood. Kill nine others to ascend to the next floor. Ascension will heal any injuries obtained on this floor.

Sam blanched at the message. Kill? Him? No, please no, he began to shake, not again. He wasn't a killer... not anymore, he was past that now. He dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand, attempting to keep his mind straight rather than descend into a swirl of messy thoughts.

If chaos had ensued before, that was nothing on the present. People screamed, more people cried, others took amateur combat stances or raised fists threateningly, but a quick glance over them and Sam knew they’d never thrown a punch before. The Newcastle kid scampered away from Sam, likely thinking he was standing next to the largest threat to his existence, which attracted attention. Suddenly, it appeared as if everyone within a small radius of Sam was eying him warily, his uniform obviously signified he was trained for combat. Given the message, he could hardly blame them.

Focus! Pull your shit together! He screamed internally. Look for a weapon, Sam tried to keep his mind busy, trying not to dwell on the message.  He couldn’t see one at first glance and everyone was currently still rather inactive, as if waiting for someone to make the first move.

“Siiilennnce!”, a burly man shouted. Heads turned towards him as he held his head high and stood tall. Sam, being more perceptive than most, noticed his sweating and hand shaking with fear. Yet, only the people within fifty metres or so heard him, Sam noticed that people further afield were still standing around wearily or still in tears, one man, about a hundred metres away had piss running down his leg.  He continued,

“Look, we all need to work together and find a way out of here!”

Sam would like to think he wasn’t too pessimistic, but nothing about their current situation screamed normality or team building puzzle. He took another glance around, it could only be a matter of time before something happened and once it did, well, people were like sheep. A riot always starts with one punch.

As if on que, a couple hundred metres away, a fight broke out, or rather, a beatdown. It was noticeable because their angered shouts were of a different tone and the people around them were backing up, creating an open space. Shifting to his left to get a better view, Sam took a guess at what had happened, it appeared a bigger guy, who looked thuggish, decided to start throwing punches at a smaller man who was feebly trying to raise his hands in self-defence. No one around them interfered as the large, bald thug with a tribal tattoo over his head knocked the smaller man unconscious with a vicious jab to the temple.

The thug had a grin on his face as he went down on his knees to begin pummelling the unconscious man, presumably to death. However, Sam wasn’t the only one watching. The large, burly man from before was yelling out for the violence to cease as he ran, crossing the distance between them.

The thug was unaware of his surroundings as he smashed his fist down into the unconscious man’s face and as such, didn’t see the burly man charging towards him before kicking with all his might. The thug turned to see him just as his foot connected with his jaw as the burly man followed through with the action, as if he’d punted a rugby ball. There was an audible crack as the thug’s head whipped back and everyone nearby, including Sam just watched in stunned silence for a moment. 

Meanwhile, at the same time, various men and woman began fighting and scrapping with one another, initially in small, isolated pockets like the one Sam had just witnessed, but over a few minutes as more fights broke out, it seemed as if the group mentality shifted. People were no longer seeing themselves as equal victims to whatever this was that had to stick together, they began turning on one another.

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As if a lightbulb went off in Sam’s head, he realised why. The message said they needed to kill nine others to ascend, whatever that meant. People would naturally seek out the weakest first as ‘easy’ kills. Therefore, the longer one waited, the harder it would be to ascend as only tougher people were left. Yet, Sam hesitated to make a move, it all just felt… wrong.

He wasn’t ready for this yet. Sure, he was a close combat instructor, but that’s all, he didn’t kill anymore, he couldn’t face the emptiness inside him.

He stayed ready for combat and watched his back for anyone trying to get the jump on him as he watched the events play out around him. He couldn’t kill people anymore… he couldn’t, it would irrevocably change him, he knew that deep down.

The football hooligan from earlier was kicking an elderly lady in the face, the burly man was wrestling in the mud, trying to fight a middle-aged man and the unconscious man had already had his head caved in. Sam supposed that meant he was no longer unconscious, but rather, dead. These were images he was trying to erase from his memories over the years and yet here, they all came flooding back. He felt nauseous at the sight of the blood after so long.

He realised almost everyone was engaged in a fight now except for him. Nobody was coming near him. There was a small bubble around him which no one would enter as if he’d lash out at them for coming too close. Obviously, everyone sussed there were easier targets than a man in a military uniform.

So many people here were going to die. He tried to do the mental math, which had never really been his strong suit. What if someone got to five kills before dying? The five people they killed would have died for nothing as they wouldn’t count towards anyone’s ascension.

He frowned and clenched his fist at his side. What a waste of life. What’s worse, he’d have to participate. He looked over those in front of him once more. There. He saw an obese man, probably in his early thirties. He wouldn’t survive this whole affair anyways, he’d be considered an easy picking. If he walked away, the man would likely be dead within a few minutes. So, was it better for him to take the kill than someone else? 

This time would be different he realised, everyone he’d killed previously had all been militants, those who had willingly decided to fight in a war. This… these people were all civilians, those he was supposed to protect. Well, maybe not these people specifically, other than the football hooligan, there didn’t seem to be other Brits around, but the point still stood.

“Sort out the now to the best of your ability, deal with the consequences later. Who dares, wins”, Sam muttered under his breath as he stalked towards the obese man. The fights around him seemed to disperse as he moved, nobody wanted to cross his path. He sloshed through the mud, by this point, it was soaked with blood. The obese man was lying on the floor, he’d just choked a woman to death. Sam’s soon to be victim had tears running down his face, clearly ashamed and terrified of his own actions. Ironically, that’s how Sam felt too, although he was bottling it up in order to act without hesitation.

He didn’t see or hear Sam approach him from behind and wrap his right arm tightly under his chin, using his left arm to brace and hold the choke. The obese man struggled and flailed at first but couldn’t hurt Sam in his state of panic.

Sam looked around, preparing to drop his choke hold the moment he saw a threat approach him. The obese man was unconscious after twenty seconds and after another minute had stopped breathing entirely.

8 kills remain until ascension.

Sam nodded, that seemed as close to a confirmation of death as he’d likely receive without exposing himself. He stood, a single tear rolling down his cheek. The last he’d shed for now as his actions flipped the switch inside of him, the one he’d hoped to bury forever. The switch of his internal killer which forced all his ‘normal’ emotions deep inside him.

As he’d choked out the man, he’d been looking out for his next target, roughly a hundred metres away was a large free-for-all brawl taking place, it seemed chaotic. He’d try to avoid that, an experienced combatant he may be, but with so many people, a wild swing could easily be his downfall.

Instead he looked in the opposite direction and locked eyes with an Asian man, drenched in blood, likely a mix of his own and others. He’d only been here for a few minutes, yet this guy looked as if he’d been here for hours. He was much smaller than Sam, but that didn’t seem to faze him as he grinned wildly and charged towards him. Sam settled into a krava maga basic stance as the man approached, he stepped aside his charge and tripped the man, sending him sprawling through the mud. At that moment, a woman charged Sam from behind, punching towards the back of his head to capitalise on his attention being elsewhere. He ducked forward so the punch just glided off his shoulder and swivelled on the front of his feet, swinging his body round to face his new opponent and delivered a solid left punch into her gut that had they full weight of his turn behind it. She doubled over in clear agony and he followed through with a right-handed uppercut, connecting into her face.

Damn that stung his fist a bit. The woman was clearly now unconscious and falling limp into the mud. Others around him saw this and the opportunity for a free kill against a prone body, charging towards him, this included the small Asian man who had clear rage burning in his eyes.

Assess the threats Sam, evaluate and prioritise, he thought to himself. Four targets approaching, all as individuals. The small Asian man seemed a little crazy, he knew the type, likely to happily receive a beating if it meant getting a scratch against him. There were two women, one approaching from either side, albeit more wearily and would likely engage at an opportune time, probably when the first man attacks. Neither seemed interested in him though and were eyeing the unconscious woman beneath his feet. The last was some body builder, stacked with muscle, but again, he wasn’t eyeing up Sam, rather the woman to his right who only had eyes for the unconscious woman.  What a cluster fuck.

The Asian man reached him and swung wildly with a right fist, he stepped inside the blow and turned with his back facing the man and performed a floating hip judo throw. It was a basic throw that any beginner could learn. That said, it was rare to use in combat as you should avoid turning your back on an opponent at any given time, but this man he was facing was both untrained and he’d confirmed nobody held a weapon here, for whatever reason. As such, he deftly pulled off the motion and slammed the man into the unconscious woman at his feet.

Unfortunately, the other three had chosen that time to act. Only one of the women posed a threat, however, as the other was grabbed from behind by the body builder man and thrown to the floor. Focusing on his own incoming target, who realised she was now alone in her assault rather than aided by two others, went wide eyed. She decided Sam probably wasn’t who she wanted to be messing with and turned tail and ran away. Sam pondered pursuing her before glancing down at the Asian man attempting to get to his feet.

7 kills remain until ascension.

What the hell? Oh. Sam noticed the unconscious woman had been faced down in the mud the whole time and had suffocated, unable to breath in the partially liquid terrain. That’s interesting though, he mused, he was attributed the kill even though her death was indirectly in his hands. The Asian man at his feet seemed to be shaking out of his daze. He couldn’t allow him to get up from a kneeling position and pose a threat so Sam slammed his combat boot into his back between his shoulder blades, sending him face first back into the mud. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings once more.

Hundreds had died, he could see bodies scattered as far as he could see in any direction, yet hundreds more were still standing. How many were here? It said 5% of humanity? Jeese, how many hundreds of millions was that? Were they all in this flat, muddy landscape? If he picked a direction and ran, how long would it take for there to be no more people? Or a wall?

These were questions for another time. The body builder was choking the other woman to death beneath his vice grip, she’d already slipped into unconsciousness. Sam wouldn’t have long to deal with this crazy Asian man before more trouble came his way. Rather inhumanely, he took a step forward and stomped down fast and hard on the back of the man’s skull. He felt it crack and give way to his boot. When he withdrew it, he could see that man’s brain matter on the bottom of his boot. It doesn’t matter how tough you might be or what you’ve been through previously, there are some sights which are just fucked up, this moment was certainly on that list.

6 kills remain until ascension.