She must learn to survive surrounded by secrets, lies, and her greatest enemies.
When she was eleven years old, Rayna Swan knew who she was: A human girl, living with her father in a suburb in England. All of that changed the day her father was mur...
"Hunters! You all think you're so great. You've been fighting you're friends, and you are just so proud when you win. Well today, we're trying something different." yelled the big guy with a whistle. I assumed he was the teacher or coach. He didn't seem very laid back.
"In the real world, you don't get to fight your friends. You don't get to stop when you get hurt. In the real world, you stop when one of you dies." said the coach.
Cara leaned over from her place in line next to me. She whispered, "That's Mr. Slater. But we all call him Mr. Slayer, 'cause he's killed the most Paranormals in the whole school. Even more than all the staff combined, and more than the headmaster."
I shivered. This was not good. "Uh, how many exactly?" I asked.
"Dunno. But it's rumored to be around five hundred." Cara answered.
Mr. Slater was still talking. "In the real world, there are no second chances. There are no guarantees. So what we are doing today will be a little different than what we've done in the past. Today, you will not be fighting whoever you choose. You will not stop when someone gets hurt."
"Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to authorize the killing of students. So, we will stop when someone is knocked out. We will have a tournament of sorts. Each winner plays the next winner, then the winner of that plays another winner, and so on. The last two people standing will face off on Friday night, in the Arena." said Mr. Slater.
A boy raised his hand. He looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, and he wasn't very attractive. When Mr. Slater called on him, he said, "What does the ultimate winner get?"
"They get to not be knocked out. They also get to win in front of the whole school. Is that good enough for you, Mr. Sweeney?"
Young Mr. Sweeney nodded vigorously. "Good. Any more questions?" Mr. Slater asked.
We all shook our heads. "Good. Now," he looked down at his clipboard, and read off pairs of names. "Burn, Sherman. Andrews, Pickett. Mendoza, Carlton. Kinney, Odell. Schott, Ryder...." The list went on. After a minute, I heard my name. "Swan, Olsen. Gold and Woods."
"Alright people. Get in your groups and start fighting. I expect all the fights to be over within the next thirty minutes. Then the winners will fight each other, and I'll pair you up. Go." said Mr. Slater.
I turned to Cara. "Who's Olsen?"
"McKayla Olsen. She's not a great fighter, and she's sweet. Don't hurt her too bad." replied Cara.
A shirt girl with a loose side braid approached me. I assumed this was McKayla.
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She was cute, and looked a little sad. She didn't look like a girl who liked to fight much. I guess not all Hunters are cold-blooded killers.
"Hey. I'm McKayla. You're new here, right?" she asked me.
