“Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen, to, Life or Death!” The audience cheered. “I know all of you are wondering what’s going to happen next. So, let’s get right back to it, shall we?”

Chance demanded an uproar from his studio audience that tuned in miles away from where the action happened. Everyone in the audience thought the scenes unfolding were staged and paid actors walked on screen. They also thought Max had volunteered to be on this reality show. Some citizens of the City doubted the genuineness of the show if it was real or not. Others thought it best not to think about it. They did not want it to be a gross reality. They could not face that truth, so they simply, put it out of their minds.

Adrenaline pulsated through Max’s body as he raced through the obstacle course. He rushed by crates and leaped over them gracefully. All of his training had been leading up to this moment. He was focused like never before. His gaze was kept straight ahead and his mind clear. Never worrying about Alice or Mr. R’s soul or anything else, except what he had to do at this moment, Max pushed through.

Suddenly, he stopped short. Before him, two masked men glared in his direction. Both dressed the same way as the first. Their painted crooked smiles beamed with delight at seeing the boy. They came rushing towards him, each with two small blades in hand.

Max deflected them both skillfully and persistently. He had no cuts.

His defense was better than his offense, but that’s what made him dangerous because he knew when to fight and when to defend.

The one thug came down with his blade. Max stopped it, wrapped his arm to his back, and flipped him through the air as he was tossed and smashed into the wall. The second thug swung maliciously until Max blocked it and hit him across the face several times, finally hitting the knives out of his hands.

He scooped one up with his foot and brought it to himself. Max then threw it and it landed right in the goon’s head, killing him instantly as he fell to his knees.

The other goon came running straight on him again. Max smiled. He ran out of his way as the goon slammed into a crate. Max rushed on him and beat him ferociously. The goon hadn’t managed to get a single hit in. The goon, bloody, fell to the ground. He managed to get back up, screamed, and bear-hugged Max.

Max was embedded in this man’s grip and couldn’t break free. The goon bit into his cheek and tore out flesh. Max’s wind was knocked out of him. He became paralyzed. The goon then pulled away as he danced with delight at his victory.

Max persevered and got to his knees. He put up his hands. The goon snarled like a wolf putting up his hands to signal Max, he was ready.

The goon waited this time. Max made the first move. Springing towards him, they fought to the death.

----------------------------------------

Max was killed. The old Max was killed. The new Max came to take his place.

Max looked over the bloody battered body of the thug. A blade stuck out of his chest.

He looked at his hands, covered in blood. Not his blood, but the minion’s.

Tears came to his eyes. It wasn’t his choice, it was someone else’s. Chance had done this because he was too cowardly to fight his own battle. But what was this battle? It had no meaning.

Max wiped away the tears.

“Oh, is someone getting frightened?” Laughter began. Chance had gotten these people in his lying grip. But Max had to make them see it was real.

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“Yeah, I am scared! So what? I’m fighting for my life over here! Audience, this is real! I was kidnapped by this evil man! Please, help me!”

“They can’t hear you! Or really see you! I make the screen fuzzy, so it is nearly impossible for them to see your mouth moving, so if you’re going to talk all day, you’re gonna be talking to a brick wall!”

“I hate you!” Max shrieked. Chance laughed again.

“This is life: choices after choices. You don’t have to kill my little minions, Maxy. I never told you that was a rule, but you keep doing it anyway. I never told you to do that. Yet three of my goons are now dead, because of you!”

This disturbed Max greatly. That was correct, Chance never said to kill these men, but these thugs would never stop until he was dead. If Max didn’t kill them, then they surely would have killed him. He looked down at his bloody hands again.

“So, you’re like me, Maxy. You’re a killer. Born one, always one. You can’t escape it, Maxy.” But Max knew this was a lie immediately. He had enough of this man’s deception.

“No, I’m not!” Max shouted. “I’ll never be you! I’ll die before I let that happen!”

Chance chortled again, “So, sure of yourself! Well, then we’ll have to put that to the test then. Now, if you’re going to stay, then move along,” he roared viciously.

Max marched forward and came through the metal gated door. He heard it turning and all of the parts working for it to open.

Just then a massive armored giant came swinging at Max out of the doorway. He was covered in metal battle armor. Spikes poked out of the armor, a helmet that covered his whole face showing a twisted and ugly countenance. His whole body was badly cut and scraped all over. This beast of a man swung a six-foot mace. He dug and weaved in and out of Max. He twirled it like a color guard champion. The mace moved towards Max.

It hit him dead on. He flung across the floor and crashed up against the concrete wall. He did not move until the giant picked him up.

“You’re not so strong,” the beast bellowed. He threw him again. Max was hurting. Pain pierced his entire body but quickly, he got back up. He would not give in, ready for the mace now. Max noticed the giant’s steps and moves were the same, he could see a pattern as they were predictable.

The mace came. He jumped over it and kicked him in the metal face. The face shield flung off and the giant screamed in anger.

The giant tried to gain his balance, but his equilibrium was off-kilter. The giant looked in Max’s direction.

Smiling, Max held a gun in his direction. Max fired a whole round his way. Three bullets hit him; two in his chest and one in his jugular. The rest hit his armor, but the brute was badly wounded at this point, clutching his throat as blood spilled down over his hand. He tried to hold it to stop the bleeding, but it made the wound open wider. Holding his chest with the other hand, the giant looked up at Max and collapsed, his eyes wide with contempt and misery.

“Now, you killed my giant! What next folks?” Chance announced. “You see Maxy, you are a killer.”

“You leave me no choice!”

“Ah, the victimization of self! You disgust me!”

Max thought it best not to engage. It would only make things worse. Chance would never shut up.

He blew past the door and came inside a chamber full of tanks. Three tanks were on each side. The transparent tank's color was solid white. Looking across the vast room, Max saw a second metal door ahead. Then looked down below as a great chasm lay under his feet of the metal stairway. He moved forward and two tanks, one on each side, burst open as two more of Chance’s minions shot out of them.

Killing was becoming easier. His heart was hardening.

The next four burst open. He pressed the trigger but the chamber was empty. He had no extra rounds. He braced himself for a fight. He blocked, punched, chewed at a shoulder, and spit it in the other’s face. He then kicked and yelled managing to bring them all down.

They all surrounded him in a circle on the grated flooring. The goons were kneeling and panting to catch their breath, but Max didn’t stop. He kicked two in the face, grabbed one by the collar, and threw him off the edge as he tumbled far down into the abyss. The last one threw a knife and it dug in the fleshy part of his lower torso.

Agony came upon him. He shivered, but then adrenaline rushed upon him. It wasn’t just adrenaline, but a force that propelled him to even greater action and energy. He beat up the last goon until he lay on the floor, bloody.

Max caught his breath, his hands on his knees. His side bled, but not badly. He ripped off a piece of his shirt and held it there for a time. He saw a screen flash on and Chance’s shadowy figure appeared on the monitor, positioned right above the metal mechanical door.

“Well, you’ve made it! Let ‘em hear it, folks!” They applauded a murderer. He heard hoots and whistles. He hated how it made him feel. Guilt overtook him a little, but then he pushed it down in the deepest darkest parts of his soul. He had to finish this. He couldn’t be paralyzed, not now. Alice was waiting for him, she depended on him. Mr. R told him that he must be a man now.

He almost felt like one.