Welcome to Hell's Oasis

There's nothing unordinary that happened on the flight. Almost too normal, aside from the collar in my neck I was forced to wear, that's it.

The location of the prison where the Hopeful Homicides are held was not disclosed to the public. Though, I have read speculations about it being somewhere around the equatorial Pacific. Also, others said it was on an artificial island built solely for the purpose of the death games.

The games are broadcasted to the public with betting sites, promotions, and advertisements, I was disgusted when I first heard about the death games and had researched about it. I've never met anyone who has never heard or watched the games.

Some even bet tons of money in hopes of making a huge sum. It became normal like how gladiators were popular a long time ago.

Even if I am against killing people in any way for the purpose of entertainment. I was just a part of the crowd. A voiceless person who works his butt off to make a living.

It didn't take long for us to reach our destination. The plane landed smoothly. Our aircraft has no windows so only after we got out of the plane we saw a humongous facility.

Some even debated that it was larger than a stadium. It also seems like the building has around fifty floors just based on how tall it is.

Toby who was beside me muttered something loud enough for me to hear,

"Hmm. So this is the cattle's house, huh?" He said as he looks towards the building.

I was trying to stay away from Toby. There's something about the guy that just makes me uncomfortable.

After a few minutes, a man wearing a khaki suit and tie came out of the building. Along with a female soldier, he went straight to us. He's wearing rectangular glasses which is rare nowadays since everyone prefers surgery, his suit perfectly fits his body that leans towards being slim, he has short black hair that flows straight to the left and he is also holding a tablet in his hand.

If we weren't on this island in the middle of nowhere I would've thought of him as a normal businessman.

The man wearing a suit stopped in front of us and started saying something. I couldn't understand anything he says. It sounded Japanese though. A few minutes in, he realized that few of us have this baffled face.

He looked a bit disappointed. He placed his right palm to his face and said something. I'm sure he said something like "Morons" or something similar.

The man in the suit then looked at some of us who are confused before taking something off his ear. He raised it trying to show everyone. It was an earpiece, same as the pair they gave me. Well, I have one of those at home and know its use.

I am just nervous and forgot that I have those. I reached out of my pocket and wear the pair of earpieces that they gave me. The earpiece could translate any language to another language you choose.

"I am Genjo Tazawa a facilitator of this place. Now then, welcome to hell."

Genjo Tazawa told us about the most important rules in this place where the punishment is our lives being taken from where we stand.

One of the rules that took a spot in memory is the prohibition of any violence against another. He also persists that above the rules stands the Warden.

We were then guided inside the building. Getting closer to the glass door towards the lobby, I could already see the fancy light bulbs and a grand chandelier. It was a huge lobby.

There are also a lot of people with different skin and hair colors than mine. At first glance, I knew that they are also participants in the death game. Since everyone wears these typical inmate clothes that have black and white stripes on them.

The hall is grand. Around are circular tables with an attached chair that could accommodate a single person.

There's a feast prepared in the middle of the lobby. Even the guards are eating with the prisoners. They only have taser guns around their belt, and I saw a few who maybe left theirs in their quarters.

The food looks great. Must've been cooked by some of the best chefs. It is my first time eating such delish and fancy cuisine. I have had a hard time living by myself and could only afford take-outs and would not even bother to think of eating in a fancy restaurant.

I decided to sit at a vacant seat near the huge table where the food is placed.

The food tasted as great as it looks which made me hungrier. Somehow, it made me forget about the circumstance that I am in.

Gobbling everything I put my hands on, some sort of bread got stuck in my throat. Though with a cough I managed to remove it. As I was looking for something to drink, a tall blonde man approached me with a glass of water.

"Here, they don't have any alcohol."

Without second thoughts I took the glass and drank the water up. I look at the man and said my thanks. He just smiled and placed the glass on the table. He then offered a handshake, which I oblige.

"Finnley Wells." He said.

"Gray... Grayson Riego."

Finnley has hair long enough to tie into a ponytail. His nose is pointy, he has the kind of face I envy. Since even for me, I could understand why women will think of him as someone "dreamy". And compared to me who has a height of five foot and six inches, he was gigantic.

"So, how tall are you?"

I know it was stupid of me to try and break the silence with an awkward question like that.

Finnley chuckled, "A little over six feet, I think," he said. Finnley has a serious face all of a sudden.

"How did you end up here?"

Why am I here, really? This is also what I asked myself. Would Finnley believe me if I say the truth? Though, there was no point in lying.

"I was framed for murder."

Finnley paused for a bit as if he was trying to analyze me if I am lying or not.

"Hmm. That's unfortunate," he said.

"How about you?"

I was also curious about his case. Since just this short encounter made me feel like he is a kind and caring person.

Finnley smiled, "I stole a huge amount of money," he said.

"You got the death penalty for that?"

"Well, I stole from a lot of rich scumbags."

"Do you distribute the money to less fortunate people?" I asked.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"So you're like Robin Hood."

Finnley's eyes widen, he chuckled a bit, "I guess?"

It was a great feeling meeting someone like Finnley. If not for the collar on my neck that I was forced to wear, the typical prisoner clothes, and most of the people having scary-looking faces I would've thought of the place as a grand hotel somewhere.

In front stands an elevated platform that looks like one of those VIP boxes in theaters, only five times bigger. And a huge screen at the upper part of the box.

The screen started broadcasting and it caught everyone's attention including mine and Finnley's.

A big round man who was sitting on a fancy chair on the platform stood up. He's wearing a fancy tuxedo and a monocle paired with a top hat on his head.

Who wears those in this era? Is what I thought to myself.

He's holding a glass of wine and a fork in his other hand. He then tapped his glass of wine with the fork, placed his glass of wine and the fork on a table beside him, and fixed his bow tie.

"Welcome to the biggest, most expensive, most advanced, and fanciest facility in the world!"

The big round man said those words with his arms open wide. His voice echoed through the lobby. I guess the room has a lot of speakers. Everyone could see him clearly through the screen. He then cleared his throat and started some sort of welcoming speech.

"Too bad, it is a prison. And I am the warden of this place. In other words, I am the law."

"Yeah right, you fat pig!"

The room was filled with laughter. Everyone's attention is now stolen by this huge bald guy with a burn on his face. I was sure that I have seen the guy before in a newscast I coincidentally viewed. He was intimidating.

The round man has stayed silent. It's so clear on the screen how his face became so red. Looks like the blood vessels in his face were about to burst.

He then took a deep breath and fixed his bow tie.

The big round man looked towards the bald guy with a disappointed face. He shook his head from side to side.

"Die."

After his word, within the loud cheers and whistles, I heard a thud. I am close enough to the bald guy and felt something splatter towards my face. As I touched and saw the red liquid in my face my heart felt heavy.

I looked toward the bald guy and saw his head roll on the ground. It made me frozen solid while trying my best not to barf in front of everyone. Though the silence took over, almost everyone that I saw had a smile on their face as if something hilarious has happened.

"What I hate the most are dead bastards interrupting me."

I tried to look straight at the warden as he speaks and averts my eyes from the headless body lying near. It was hard to try and think of other thoughts as I forced myself not to puke, or even pee myself.

"As I said, I am the warden of this place. You guys are already dead. Survive the games for the chance of life!"

What happened brought back my senses. It doesn't matter how fancy this place is, along with the great food they have. No matter what coating they do, hell is hell.

"Oh, my manners, I forgot to introduce myself. I am Andrei Fraser, the God of this place. Again, welcome to Hell's Oasis!"