… … Please… … help… … help me… … …
Life… Something we all have, yet, often take for granted, some more than others. Many see it as a gift, while others as a curse. It is the innate desire of mankind to make the most of this life, but unfortunately, this life can very unfair. There’s a saying that goes: “Many that live deserve death, and some that die deserve life.” If that’s the case, am I deserving of life? Am I worthy of such a gift? I have done nothing but take lives; snuff them out like a candlelight flame. Life is supposed to fulfilling and full of wonder; I haven’t accomplished any of that. I barely eat, early sleep, and currently isolated from everyone. I miss, no, crave the simple pleasures of my old life. Sitting on a comfy sofa instead of a metal bench, drinking an ice-cold beer instead of still water from a dirty glass, a delicious home-made dinner instead of… … whatever the fuck this is… I honestly can’t even tell you what the name of this “food” is. I miss the warmth of the sun all the while I waste away under the humming of an in candescent fixture. I miss the outside world, the real world! I should’ve taken more advantage of it before I was essentially abducted by the shadow government. I miss my mother. I long for her to hug me like she did so many years ago. Honestly, I miss Brett as well. I want him to hold me like he used to. I know that we’ve been currently in a spat, but deep down, I can see he truly cares about me. If I ever have the opportunity to leave this place, I definitely want our relationship to work out and eventually blossom into something bigger. But, until then, I remain here in this room, only to languish and rot away from my own filth and the monotony of pure boredom and solitary isolation… … …
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Day One: After my bout with Dominus Exalted, The Grand Order decided to up the tournament’s ante, as it was nearing its ultimate conclusion. I don’t remember much, but the only moment that I sharply was being forced into the solitary cell I currently find myself in with no treatment wounds…my dislocated shoulder… broken nose… gouged eye, limp arm, killer headaches… what was I talking about? Well, whatever it is, the best thing to do for the time being is to start and stick to a routine to keep the mind busy and occupied. If I don’t do this, I will eventually succumb to The Spiral and freefall to Sokushinbutsu… … I don’t know how long I will have to be confined to this room, but I will continue to survive! By my own calculations, I predict that there should be around 20 delegates left. Until they tell us the official numbers, I assume there will be three more rounds of fighting until only two remain. If The Grand Order sticks to their usual scheduling, we’ll only be in here for a week, at most. I can do this! Six more days… … … …
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Day Two: I was forcibly awakened by a voice over the intercom. They announced that there were currently 16 delegates remaining in the Tournament for Godhood. They also announced that the next round would indeed be held in one week’s time.
[DELEGATES REMAINING: 16]
[DELEGATES LOST TO THE SPIRAL: 12]
After the announcer gave some other minor updates, the intercom hung up, and food was slipped into my cell through a slit in the door. I got off my bed and inspected the food; it was a meager serving of a mystery slop and a small glass of water. Knowing that this will continue for the next week, I ate the bland food, drank the water, and started the routine of recording the day’s events using utensils as a pen and the walls, my notepad. Only five more days until the next fight. I need to stay sharp, vigilant, and healthy. I can do this! I’ve been through the wringer before… …. …. ….
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Day Three: The voice over the intercom woke me up once again most likely around the same time as yesterday. Seems that they’re building another routine for us to follow by. The disembodied voice informed us that there were currently 15 delegates left. Judging by my own prediction, the delegate must’ve succumbed to The Spiral.
[DELEGATES REMAINING: 16 → 15]
[DELEGATES LOST TO THE SPIRAL: 12 → 13]
The intercom hung up and the food is again given to me through the slit, once again, same slop, same water, same dirty glass. I power through and eat the food, and now I take to writing what is currently being written here. There’s still not much I am able to do at this current moment. Shocker… With no windows to see outside nor clocks to track the time, my concept of time and circadian rhythm is based mainly on the intercom announcements and the food given to me. Do I wish I knew the actual time? Absolutely, but this routine I have right now will stop me from going insane. Four more days left until I fight again. In my spare time, I make sure to look over and observe my wounds. At this current moment, so far so good, no infections. Sadly, I regret to inform myself that I do, in fact, miss my eye. Sometimes I question myself if losing my eye was really worth it. I guess it was, since I’m alive right now. Counterpart, I’m stuck in solitary confinement in an attempt to cull the remaining delegates. If I had to take an educated guess, I’d say they’d want to cull until eight remain. That way, there’s less fatigue for the audience, recuperation for the delegates, and time to set up for the final rounds. Whatever their plans are, I’ll make sure to hold out until the final rounds. Four days left. Four days left. Four more days until I escape from this Hell hole! … … … … … … … …
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Day Four: Daily routine starts again. Announcer over the intercom wakes me up again. Then the number of delegates remaining: 13. Two more victims have been claimed by Sokushinbutsu.
[DELEGATES REMAINING: 15 → 13]
[DELEGATES LOST TO THE SPIRAL: 13 → 15]
The intercom hangs up and I am given my slop food, which I eat as usual. Now, for what I did today. Since no medical attention would be given until my confinement is over, I decide to focus on fixing my dislocated shoulder. For hours, I spent slamming my shoulder against one of the walls enclosing me. The pain was absolutely intense and it made me pass out a couple of times, but at least it made me feel a new type of stimulation I haven’t felt in ages. After of while of constant slamming, I was successful in the reduction of my shoulder, giving me an immense amount of relief. At least, one point of pain had been dealt with. Now, time to deal with the others… … starting with my nose. I’ll figure out how to make a splint with what rudimentary tools I have at my disposal. Until then, I’ll probably sleep for the rest of the day. Who knew re-adjusting your shoulder would turn out to cause me to break such a sweat. Honestly, this really was a good day. Three more days left. 72 hours… … Just need to continue to hold on! Just need to take it one step at a time… … …
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Day Five: Again, the intercom blared inside my room, waking me up. How many delegates today? 13. First time no one died or succumbed to The Spiral in nearly a week. The intercom hung up, meager serving of food and water slipped into my room. What did I do today? Well, after slamming my shoulder into that wall, it absolutely hurts like hell today, thus I was out of commission for the day. Honestly, not what I wanted to do, because a bored mind invites restlessness, and restlessness invites The Spiral. So, let’s see if there’s anything I can do or think of to stave this feeling… … … I honestly…. I can’t think of anything at the moment. The only thing that comes to mind is a singular name: “Juno”. I don’t know why that name is running around inside my head, but I can’t help that it feels very familiar. Wherever Juno is, I hope they’re doing well. At least they don’t have to deal with this pseudo-hell that is called solitary confinement. Juno…Juno? I don’t know who you are, but thank you for occupying my mind while my body continues to rest. Maybe when I am able to leave this place, I hope to find you and becomes friends. Two more days left. We’re almost at the finish.... Until then…until then…until then…until…then…
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Day Six: I was woken up due to my body anticipating the announcer’s voice over the intercom, but the announcer never talked, nor the intercom ever turn on. And since the intercom never turned on, the food was never delivered into my cell. At first, I thought I must’ve been wrong in thinking that it was already the next day, but I couldn’t shake the gut feeling. I always trust my gut feeling and it’s never failed me. So, with no announcement and no food, I get to making the most of a routine in order to keep together the semblance of a normal life. I decided for today that I would work on my mangled arm and inspect my hollow socket. Inspecting my arm was pretty simple. The bandages were in need of a changing. Without access to sterile supplies, let alone proper supplies, the best that I can do is swap the bandages and the sling that cradled my arm in place. Since the sling was also made out of a cloth-like material, the switch didn’t cause too many problems. After making bandages out of a slightly dirty sling and vice versa a sling out of bloodied bandages, my attention now focused on the bloodied socket that once housed my eye… before it was forcibly ripped out. With no mirror in sight, the best I have at my disposal is a toilet and a sink… Since using a toilet makes me very queasy, I decided to fill the sink full of water and using that to see my reflection. After it was filled, I took a look at my face: my cheeks were swollen and bruised from the onslaught of punches I received. Luckily, I still had all of my teeth intact. My nose, still broken, has stopped its bleeding and is currently in the process of trying to heal itself. I honestly forgot that I was supposed to have fixed my nose the other day, but oh well. I readjust it once again to keep air flow proper. As for my eye… I hover my fingers over the empty socket, slightly flinching anytime I got close to the wound. There’s no fixing this unfortunately, but I can at least make it presentable and clean. With the water before me, I wet my hands, lather some soap and clear away the hardened and cracked blood around the wound. With it cleaned to the best of my ability, I took the rest of what was my old sling and wrapped it over my eye and part of my head to ensure faster healing and decrease my chances of potential infection. With nothing else left to do, I decided to lay back down on my bed, and maintain my current rate of rest. Only 24 hours left until I get to leave. I managed this far! I can go one more day in here. Until then, Mercedes. Best of luck and continue to stave off The Spiral… … …
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
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Day Seven: I was startled awake by the announcer’s voice over the intercom. The current number of delegates remaining totaled to 10; three less than the other day and three more souls trapped by Sokushinbutsu.
[DELEGATES REMAINING: 13 → 10]
[DELEGATES LOST TO THE SPIRAL: 15 → 18]
After being informed of the delegate numbers, it was announced to us that due to unforeseen technical difficulties, the next round would be postponed by a couple of days, but they would still make sure to take care of everyone by feeding them well. As the intercom hung up, the food was slipped into the room. While the slop wasn’t any different, the portions were heavier this time, what was honesty strange. Was it because we didn’t eat yesterday? Or was it something more sinister? I don’t know what it might be, but just in case, I decided to ration myself and save some food for tomorrow, in case of an emergency. Since I believed that today would finally be the day that I would be released, my normal routine was absolutely derailed. As a result, I did my best to find something to help occupy my time. What to do… what to do… I guess the best I could do is make a puzzle? Do I even know how to? What about Sudoku? I think I can solve those. I’m going to at least attempt to solve my own puzzles to keep my busy. Hopefully, I’ll be free in a couple of days. If not, the only thig I can do is just continue to survive in the face of adversity. Until then…. Continue to stay alive, Mercedes. You got this. Most importantly: do NOT succumb to the temptations of The Spiral! … …
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Day Eight: I wake up a second time here due to the hammered-in routine. Just like the other day, the announcer’s voice didn’t blare over the intercom; food was also not served to us, as a result. To keep the pace going, I decided to take to my rations, and eat what remained. It tasted worse than it did yesterday, but food is food. I am more convinced than ever there are merely attempts to pump the brakes and demolish the delegates’ solitary routine, the routine that helps keep us insane, sorry, I meant sane. To help us not go insane. That’s better. The higher-ups of this tournament know that a lack of a routine rots the brain, which leads to physical insanity, then finally, the uninterrupted freefall to Sokushinbutsu. I refuse to live forever, stuck inside a husk of my former self, so I need to maintain any semblance of a routine, at all costs! I refuse to die here too! I will survive and I will prevail! I am Lady Mercedes Vida: delegate for … … hold up! Who do I represent again? …Plu …Plus? …Plan? Ah, fuck it. It doesn’t matter. Once I face off in the next round, I’m positive they’ll tell me who I represent! I will continue to do my best and keep my mind busy. I guess more puzzles? Or may I can continue to write something. Until then, please stay alive, Mercedes. You have the willpower to stay alive… … …Please, you must stay alive. For me, for everyone, for Juno…I still don’t know who you are, but I need to live for my friends, my family, and for myself. I know I deserve a better life, and the only way for me to obtain that second chance that second chance is by being the sole survivor of this god-awful tournament…please… mom… please mom… stay close to be me… always … … …. … … … …
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Day Nine: Another day another silent intercom. No food, no water. I don’t think they’re going to be freeing us anytime soon. What is happening with my life? Why is this happening? I mean, I know the actual reason, but why not have us kill one another instead? Wouldn’t that be more exciting than having us waste away in our own filth, talking to ourselves and going bat-shit crazy due to the confinements of solitary confinement? What did I just write? “Confinements of solitary confinement”? Why repeat the same word twice?? I don’t even know any more. I know that I’m trying to stick to the routine, but I’m running out of options and things to do. And that’s not even mentioning the lack of food. I don’t know which will come first: physical waste or mental degradation? As for water, I will have to be forced to drink from the rusty faucet in order to stay alive. How long will this continue to go on for? If there’s only ten people as of the other day. What are they waiting for? Until there are eight? Four? Two of us left? If I had to surmise, most likely the latter two. At this point, I am actively rooting for the downfall of the other delegates. The faster they die or end up devoured by Sokushinbutsu, the faster I can leave. Until then, I’ll need to keep busy. Keep busy will absolutely save me from the grasp of death or even a fate worse than death… Please… I need to… I need to survive… … …. … … …
It’s been a while… I tried to sleep, but my body refuses to rest. I don’t know what time or day it is, nor do I know anything anymore. My stomach hurts from hunger; my body itself hurts from malnutrition and neglect for my wounds. I don’t want to keep distracting myself. I don’t want to keep distracting myself. I don’t want to be trapped here either. I want to leave! I want to escape! Please…. Please…. … Please … … Please… someone… anyone… help …. Help … me … …
MERCEDES VIDA HAS SUCCESSFULLY ENTERED THE SPIRAL OF PARANOIA
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Day…Ten…: Why is this happening to me? I was told to do one thing in order to survive, and, in the end, I’m being denied my only opportunity to live. No one told me that I would have to sit here and essentially do absolutely nothing. I can’t remember a single thing anymore. My body hurts evermore so, my brain feels like mush, the fog of the mind never leaving. My face is numb. My arms and legs shake and spasm with eager anticipation to do something, only to waste away from lack of food. This isn’t a life anymore. This is my own personal Hell that I am unable to escape. I don’t know what to do anymore. I know I told myself that I would do anything and everything in my power to survive. However, I lose my will to live with each passing second.
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Day Eleven: So… I tried to drown myself in the sink today… I can’t take this anymore. Sucks that my body forgot about our situation and kept fighting back to end my misery…still no food, no announcer, no routine, no intercom, just pure boredom… My body is so weak…I barely want to write anymore… Someone please save me…Anyone? Anyone??
MERCEDES VIDA HAS SUCCESSFULLY ENTERED THE SPIRAL OF VIOLENCE
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Day…. I don’t even know anymore: There’s a stain on my hand and it’s red…a hand of blood, my hand covered in my own blood. There’s no feeling anymore. No emotion either…with nothing else to do. I’ve resigned to merely punching the concrete wall until my hands become bloody stumps. There’s no else to live for, for living now is nothing but a curse, while death is apparently a gift I am undeserving of. I wish to no longer live anymore… as much as I would love for someone to save me from this prison, unfortunately I don’t think anyone will come. I guess I’ve been abandoned too… I have been forgotten…
MERCEDES VIDA HAS SUCCESSFULLY ENTERED THE SPIRAL SELF-DESTRUCTION
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… … … … … … Who…. Who am I? Where am I? What is this place? … … … Why is my body so beat up? And…why am I missing…an eye?? Hmm? What is this on my arm? … … … Number 1. ‘Your name is Lady Mercedes Vida, a delegate fighting in a tournament to become God of The Grand Order.’ Lady Mercedes? That name sounds rather…tacky. And what about this whole tournament idea? What kind of tournament is it anyway? I mean…judging by my…wounds, it is definitely a sort of high-stakes tournament… Anyway… Number 2. ‘You have a super-human power called ‘Her Last Cry’, which has the ability to distort an individual’s reality via continuous eye contact’ … … … ‘Her Last Cry’? … Sounds…familiar… wasn’t it a song made by that…one band?? … … I can’t remember anything… my brain feels all… fuzzy… and what’s this talk about with super-human powers? It’s not like the real world is like that of a comic book. And that’s not even mentioning the “continuous eye contact” part? Would it need to be with both eyes? If that’s the case…and these powers are even real…I’m shit out of luck. Let’s see what else…is here: Number 3. ‘Your power can only be used for up to 60 seconds within a five-minute interval. Use the watch given to keep track of usage.’ Well, that sounds…underwhelming…like, what would happen…hypothetically if I already used the 60 seconds all at once? Wouldn’t that make you vulnerable for the other four minutes? … … Number 4. ‘Overuse of your power will result in a full-frontal lobotomy in real-time, causing permanent amnesia, nausea, and thunderclap headaches, among…other symptoms…that can eventually result in death…’ … …Interesting…is that the reason…? No, it can’t be… there seriously cannot be real. My amnesia must’ve been caused by something else…something more rational… I refuse to believe I’m participating in this tournament of mutants and that it’s the reason why I am mangled, beaten, and riddled with amnesia… … … Number 5. ‘Don’t panic, remain calm, and beware of Sokushinbutsu and Death’s Spiral… …’ What…the Hell is Death’s Spiral? Or even Sokushinbutsu for that matter? Is Sokushinbutsu even a word? What is there to beware of? If it was so important, then wouldn’t it be listed on my arm? Well…if it’s not on my arm…it shouldn’t be that important, right?
Hmmm… … …so what I can surmise from my surroundings and other information I’ve gathered, if I really am a part of this unreal tournament, then this must be a holding cell of sorts, possibly like the other participants. I also gathered that I am not the first person to be in this particular cell. All across the room lay scrawled…entries from a participant who lost their min in here. Unfortunately, any mention of their name seems to be carved out. Maybe they went so insane as to remove anything about their identity? Who knows? I don’t… Now that I think about it, how long have I been here? My body has apparently gone through the wringer, so I must have been here for at least a couple of days. My arm is in a sling, my shoulder hurts like Hell, and my eye’s been carved out of my skull. Well, however long I’ve been here, the best thing I can do right now is rest in the meantime. There’s no knowing when the next round will begin…if there even is one…this whole situation is…absolutely bizarre! Once I get out of here…I definitely need to go and check on everyone, especially my mother. I’ll see you soon, don’t you worry. Until then…I love you…
■■■
I was forcibly awakened by a mysterious voice over the intercom. The announcer informed us that today we would be released from our cells to prepare for the final round that would be occurring tomorrow. They also informed us that we would be given something to eat and drink. Apparently, there were only two delegates remaining in the tournament. I was honestly under the impression that there would be at least a few more rounds left…but it looks like I’m one of the finalists…
[DELEGATES REMAINING: 10 → 2]
[DELEGATES LOST TO THE SPIRAL: 18 → 26]
I wonder who the other finalist is? Are they powerful? I wonder what their ability is… Suddenly, the intercom hangs up and the entrance to my cell opens up. A guard, dressed similar to that of a medieval knight, inspects me to follow them. At least, I get to leave this cell, unlike the previous cell’s occupant. I honestly feel sorry for them… Hopefully, they are at peace… As I am led to another room, I am welcomed by a massive table, decked from head-to-toe with every type of food and drink that I could ever imagine. Feeling unusually hungry, I walk eagerly to the table and consume to my heart’s content. As I continue to stuff my mouth… the television in the room turns on, broadcasting the final match-up for this tournament to become God. While the name sounds familiar, I unfortunately cannot put a name to a face. Whether I know them or not, when I enter that arena tomorrow, I will be introduced to my opponent. And while I only know the name of this…so-called ability, I have some confidence…that I can the final round and finally…leave this underworld…. As the television turns off, I decided to go back to the feat laid before me… realizing that there’s no point in stressing this match. What happens will eventually happen. Whether I win or lose, in the end, it doesn’t matter… … … … … …
[LADY MERCEDES VIDA: ‘HER LAST CRY’ VS. JUNO NEOS ARCHER: ‘PRISONER OF EUPHORIC RAGE’]
