act five: prepare to be educated
#3, Carmine Vestieri. DEAD.
Dominic Pericolo stood in the midst of the jungle, the smoking revolver clenched in his shaking hand, knuckles white from the strain of his grip. His breathing was ragged, eyes filled with tears as a thunderclap sounded overhead, bringing the broken man falling to his knees, sobbing.
What had brought their family to this?!
It had started just about four days ago, the preparation for a surprise vacation held by the NLCW Corporate Offices for all their remaining wrestlers and former employees of the company. A three-day island getaway that was supposed to boost moral and brotherhood between the wrestlers involved.
Dominic remembered saying goodbye to his family, he remembered Suki telling him to stay safe and enjoy himself... he never realized how hard it would be to listen to her when that island vacation began.
"Midvalley... I'm so sorry..."
He remembered the blood-stained, terrified face of his friend and former CEO of the NLCW, the man they'd brought before the roster as they sat in what looked like an old classroom, collars fitted around their necks that threatened to explode at any moment. Dominic had heard of the stories, but he always thought them to be fiction... always thought them to not pose a threat to anyone.
Never realizing that the story of "Battle Royale" was, in fact, a work of non-fiction.
They killed him... they killed Dade Midvalley to set an example to the rest of the group, to show them that running would be futile. The NLCW Board of Directors, they... they'd gone insane, trying to bring about as much money for the company through ratings as possible. They had taken everything they had, every worker and former worker they could get their hands on, and they had thrust them on this island not for a getaway, but for a slaughtering.
And after three days had since gone by... the nightmares were coming to a close. Dominic glanced up through tear filled eyes at the rolling clouds overhead in the sky with the setting sun. It was only him and one other left, now... and he knew the person had their eyes locked on the back of his head.
He lowered his gaze, shaking breaths escaping his lips as he sensed his best friend gradually trying to sneak up behind him. The man he'd trusted... the dying man who wanted to redeem himself for all he'd done, but still the man who could never enter a fight without at least trying to go for the win.
"Champion..." he whispered, stopping his friend in his tracks.
Christopher Champion, the projected favorite to win ever since the start of this sick, twisted game on the island. Even with his ailment, even with Champion's deteriorating strength... it was clear he had nothing left to lose, but everything to gain by obtaining victory on the island. Champion tore a swath through anyone who dared to try and stop him, and he'd by some fortune managed to avoid Dominic the whole time.
But now... they had finally crossed paths, the final two standing in an island drowned with blood.
"Pericolo, I... you know I have to do this, I have to.. I can't just die without a fight, damn it!"
Dominic stands, revolver still held in his hand as he slowly turns, taking in the sight of the tattered, torn and broken Champion before him. Kitted out like Rambo, the spoils of the wars Champion waged on the island were strewn across his body. A submachine gun strapped to his side, a shotgun slung across his back, a hunting knife holstered and strapped to his belt at his waist, a string of grenades tethered onto that same belt, and his supply bag slung over his shoulder.
Champion was significantly heavier thanks to the equipment he was lugging... Dominic could only imagine the weapons hiding with the supplies stuffed in his bag. He glanced down at his hand, at the revolver clutched inside of it, the only weapon he had left to speak of in the coming battle.
He had made it to the end... and, if he should survive, he would have to kill his best friend. He would have to kill Christopher Champion.
But the crazed look in Champion's eye, that obsessive desire to be the best, that borderline manic fixation on victory... it had grown substantially beyond anything Champion had ever felt before. Dominic could see the insanity in his best friend's eyes, and he'd realized already that although the venom working in Champion's veins was systematically shutting down his body... it had been the workings of the island that had shut down Champion's mind.
Killing Champion would be more than just trying to survive for Dominic, it... it would be saving his friend from the madness that had taken over. Dominic's eyes widened as Champion began to laugh, a slow laugh with shaking hands as he reached for his submachine gun, never taking his eyes off of Pericolo.
"You're too slow, Dominic... you could never win against me because you never knew how to pull the trigger! You never... you never had a prayer! Ha! Haha! You're... ha! You're finished!"
Dominic grits his teeth, stepping back slowly, knowing he'd nowhere left to run. He... he had to do it. He had to do the one thing he'd never in his life dreamt he would have to do.
He would have to kill him. He would have to pull the trigger.
Dominic's hand almost seemed to have a mind of its own as it flicked up towards Chris, Dominic's expression hardening as he closed his eyes, unable to take in the sight that was about to unfold. Champion's own eyes widening in shock, the laughter ceasing and his grip on his weapon coming loose. the sound of the submachine gun clattering against the ground breaking the newfound silence.
"Dominic..." Champion whispered, a realization dawning. Dominic could only choke out a sob, his finger clenching tight as he finally did what had to be done.
BANG!
...
...
#1, Christopher Champion. DEAD.
"I'm so sorry, Chris..."