Chapter 1: Why the Circle is Red

The boy's name is uncertain. He was born into a poor family in the outskirts of a poor town with five brothers and six sisters. His parents had probably never even called him by name. That wasn't strange to him, after all, that's the only life he had ever lived. His mother and father were hardly home, always working to take care of their large family. So you can imagine that when they got the offer… it seemed like the only thing they could do. It seemed to be a blessing or maybe even a miracle.

It wasn't that, however, for the boy. He was the middle child. He was always patient with his younger siblings, and helpful to the older. And he was the only option for them. At least, that's how they justified it.

He was a sharp-minded child, able to easily detect the unease infecting the air that particular morning. His parents were home, for once, but they didn't look up from their plates as they ate. All of his siblings played in the backyard cheerfully, excluding the eldest. His oldest sister's arm was draped over his mother's shoulder, and she stared at him with a deep pity. "What's... happening?" his question dissolved the thick air.

His mother looked up at him in shock. He hardly ever spoke. In that moment his eyes were burning with questions she couldn't bear to answer. She hung her head again, in shame. "My child… my very own child…" she murmured, as though unable to remember his name, her brow furrowed. "My dear…." There was a long and sad pause.

"…Nothing to be done. We must prepare him." His father finally grunted, standing as he did so.

"But-"The mother protested, and was met with a glare from the father.

"We have been given an offer from a Scientist: Dr. Marigold." His father seemed to choke on his next words. This was uncharacteristic of the gruff man, who often spoke his mind without reservation, "D-Dr. Marigold offered us… a large sum of money. Thing is… we would have to give him a test subject for his experiments," he paused again. "…a child." His father stopped, and sat back down, his mouth drawn into a line. He was unable to continue.

"…And so, you chose me. The only one who is too young to work, but old enough to take care of himself." The boy murmured thoughtfully.

"Yes." His sister answered, "They chose, you. Their own child… because they 'didn't have a choice', honestly!" her voice was laced with sarcasm, but her words wavered at the end. Her eyes began to water and she collapsed onto the floor sobbing, "I'm so sorry, I tried to stop them, but they already took the money!" she continued to sob and repeat over and over: "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

"I'm… not mad. I understand. You need to take care of everyone. This way they'll have a nice home, and plenty of food and toys… That makes me happy." The boy addressed his parents evenly, and his mother let out a short sob. "When are they coming to get me?" He tried to keep his voice from wavering so he could seem like his grown up big sister. But just as the question left his lips, a loud honk sounded out side. He started shaking uncontrollably as realization dawned. No one noticed.

His sister looked through the window, seeing a silver van parked in front of the house. "They're here now, apparently." She answered icily, staring directly into her mother's eyes. Without looking away she continued, "Go collect your things."

The boy nearly sprinted back to the room he shared with his three younger brothers and threw the door shut. He leaned his back against it, gasping for breath. Panic surfaced in him and wild thoughts of torture and huge needles ran through his mind. Still, he was able to find his center and calm the beating of his heart. With a slow and deliberate gait, he opened the bottom drawer of his dresser, finding his clothes were missing. That is, until he saw his little red suitcase was already sitting on his bed, full. His mother appeared in the doorway behind him. "I already prepared everything for you. I even put in some snacks..." her voice was soft. The boy pulled his suitcase off his bed and moved towards his mother, who pulled him into a light hug. "Be careful." She said quietly as she pulled away.

The boy couldn't answer her. For a moment, anger bubbled in his chest, threatening to rip him apart, and he thought, this is all your fault and you have the nerve to act like it couldn't be helped?! He didn't understand this feeling, being a naturally cool-headed child. So, he simply overlooked the emotion, writing it off as 'nothing'. Unbeknownst to him, he would soon know the feeling of anger better than he knew the meaning behind his mother's hug.

When the two reentered the living room, there was a cheerful looking man dressed in overalls standing in the center. "Ha-ha! There's the boy! He is a brave child!" the man put a hand on the boy's shoulder, squeezing it tightly. The boy was sharp, as I said, so you must know that it was in this moment when he first realized that something was wrong.

"As you know, this practice isn't… approved. So I expect that you'll stay tight-lipped about this!" the man laughed again, "Anyway, don't worry about your child, the facilities are wonderful! He might even make friends with the other children!" his grip tightened.

"Yes… it won't be so bad, right?" his mother smiled at him, a broken smile.

The boy wanted to respond, to say, 'of course it'll be fine, mum!' or at least say 'Goodbye.' But the boy had a feeling that his mother was only soothed by the man's words because it eased the weight on her conscience.

"You will be able to access the money this afternoon." The man said as he pulled the boy through the door and shut it behind them.

"I thought you said you had already accepted the money!" his sister's voice could be heard from within the worn-down abode. The boy was calm, and not at all surprised upon hearing these words. To him, nothing had changed. He was still the necessary sacrifice for him family's well-being.

"Come along boy, and brace yourself." The man turned to him and spoke with an eerie grin, "This is going to be a long journey." Neither the man, nor the boy knew just how long that journey would be.

Ω

The boy sat in the back of the van, staring out the windows, almost in awe. He had never been in a car before, though he had once been on a bus. Still, you can imagine that he couldn't fully envelop himself in wonder right then. His thoughts were too jumbled and confused, filled with pointless worries and what-ifs of the future. Finally, the man spoke.

"We're here." The man said, pulling into an empty gravel lot.

"Where?" he wondered aloud.

"The switch point." He responded just as a semi-truck painted with the words, "'till tomorrow, we'll improve today" entered the lot. A man jumped out of the truck, and walked over to the van with a brisk pace.

"Good job, Darry." The other man greeted as he approached.

"Right back at ya, Harry." Darry responded. He motioned to the boy, "He's scrawny but…"

"It doesn't matter." Harry answered. "He'll do."

"Great! I'll leave him to you, then." Darry had hardly finished his sentence when Harry had grasped the boy's shoulders and dragged him out of the van.

"My luggage," the boy started.

"No room for it," the Harry laughed.

"But-"

"You talk too much." Harry cut him off again, and lifted the boy's shirt over his torso.

"What are you doing?" the boy tried to pull away, but Harry stripped him down until he was stark naked without responding. He quickly bound the boy's hands and feet with thick rope and carried him to the truck. Right before tossing the boy inside, he gagged him with a coarse white cloth. Unceremoniously, the boy was stuffed into the truck and the doors were closed in front of him.

Immediately, two things became obvious. The first thing was that the truck was crowded. It was filled to the brim with other children, most of them a lot older. They were all naked, and all unable to sit because they were packed in so tightly. The second thing that the boy noticed was the smell. It was of vomit and feces. The children must have been in the truck for many days, maybe even weeks.

There was another scent there, too, of course. It was a sharp metallic scent that he couldn't possibly recognize or notice then. Unfortunately for the boy, that scent would soon become all too familiar.

He waited in the unlit, pungent semi, with the only sound being the truck's wheels turning. He had no idea how much time had passed. He was only vaguely aware of other children being stuffed into the car in front of him.

Just when he had steeled himself to living in that chicken coop for the rest of his life, the doors to the truck opened, and stayed open. The children didn't move for a long moment. Too cautious to test this new happening, which was smart. For them, it almost would have been better to lie on the floor of the truck and play dead. Too bad that the bodies would be incinerated. Anyway, back to the story:

"Well, come on!" Harry's voice called from the doorway.

In response to the command, the children began to saunter forth clumsily. The boy followed suit, but as the car emptied, the weight on his back didn't shift. There was someone propped up on him, cold and unmoving. He carefully turned and cradled the girl on his back, only to find that she was dead. He dropped her head immediately and shuffled backward in a panic so quickly that he fell off the back of the truck.

"Would you look at that…?" Harry murmured. "Only ten or so died… that's better than last time." He glanced at the boy and smiled, "Ah, it's the luggage-boy! I have a good feeling about you. If you make it out of the pit, I'll bet on you. So don't die, kay?" He winked and closed the doors. "Hurry along then!" he ordered, pointing to the building the truck was parked in front of.

Suddenly, an old woman burst through the doors and grasped the boy's hand, attempting to drag him to the building the other children had disappeared into. He resisted, and she turned to him, gazing at him with the fiercest and most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. They were peculiar, with one eye a deep green, and the other a sharp silver-gray. As their eyes locked, the woman saw something different in that boy. For the first time in forty years, she shaped her mouth into something like a smile. This revealed her lack of teeth and that her tongue seemed to be missing. Seeing this didn't disgust or upset the boy. After all, he was a very kind child. He, instead, put his hand to her cheek gently. The two shared a long moment in which the boy decided to trust the woman and allowed her to lead him into the building.

Once the pair entered the room, the boy quickly analyzed the situation. In front of him, there was a vast hall lined with around thirty men, all armed. In the center, there was an uneven red circle, which the children were crowded onto. There was also a stage in front of the circle. Standing on it, were a group of beautiful women with flowing locks and heart-shaped lips. Their transparent robes hardly covered their voluptuous figures.

The old woman cut off his ropes and removed his gag. Then, someone else pushed him into the circle from behind. The woman turned and climbed onto the stage. The boy couldn't believe his eyes, in the moment the old woman's hand touched the stage, her form changed. Her legs became longer, her hair's color returned. The wrinkles in her face disappeared, and even her clothes changed into the same exposing fashion as the other women's. She looked just as young and beautiful as the rest.

The other children around him murmured quietly to themselves, but were soon silenced when a large voice boomed, "WELCOME!" and a tall, handsome man stood on the stage among the women. "Halloo! My name is Dr. Marigold!" he laughed happily. "You are all here because of me! And let me tell you… that should make you angry. ." he pretended to cower.

The children stared on silently. "Oh? That's no fun! The last group yelled a bit at least." The man touched his hand to his forehead. "Oh dear… how awkward. Well. Anywho! I love strange and interesting things." He patted the stage. "This stage, for instance, can make the person standing on it turn into the person they want to be! Only in outward appearance, though. It was a fun project though there was a slight problem… I kept it though, because of the eye candy. Anyway, the problem is, it's quite addicting. See, the girls here, can't stand being off the stage anymore." He jumped off the stage, dragging a girl along with him. As soon as her feet touched the ground, her hair shriveled, and her skin became covered in pimples. Her clothes changed into a plain sweater and jeans. She let out a blood-curdling scream, clawing at the man, attempting to drag herself back to the stage.

Dr. Marigold laughed an icy laugh, "She's been on it too much." He snapped his fingers in the air, and there was a long pause. The girl froze completely, staring back at him in horror. Without warning, she fell to the ground and started writhing in pain. He just looked down on her and laughed. He laughed harder and harder until eventually, blood started leaking from the girls nose and ears and mouth. Her screams became garbled the more blood she coughed up. Dr. Marigold snapped again and the girl's head completely erupted into nothingness. With a sigh, the man kneeled down and cradled her shoulders, almost gently.

Then, with a sudden stabbing motion, he thrust his hand into her throat. There were loud squelching sounds as he rummaged through her corpse, humming an ancient tune as he did. He pulled his hand out and licked it from the bottom of his palm to the top of his middle finger.

"Hmmm… her blood is warm but… the taste is disgusting~!" he sang with a childish grin. "Oh, where was I? Yes, the stage! As I was saying, reason my appearance hasn't changed is I am perfect to the point I can no longer be affected by the stage. Cool huh?" He looked around the hall at the children's empty faces.

The boy felt a thick darkness surge through him; he spoke without meaning to, "That's probably because of plastic surgery though, huh?"

The man's head turned in the boy's direction. "What was that?" he nearly hissed.

"Ouch. Did I strike a nerve?" the boy answered in a sing-song voice. He willed himself to stop, but his voice carried out with its same vicious tone, "or… did you make it so the stage didn't work on you on purpose?" the boy laughed cruelly, "to make yourself feel better?" He couldn't believe that he felt this overwhelming desire to hurt another person, even if it was only in words.

The man's brow was furrowed for a moment as he scanned the crowd of children. Then, his eyes lit up and his grin stretched across his face again. "Then… how about we see what you look like." He motioned to one of the room's guards. The guard approached the stage, and the man whispered something in his ear. The guard nodded, and backed away.

"Come up onto the stage." Dr. Marigold commanded. The men with guns stomped behind the children, urging them to move as though they were sheep. The children inched forward, climbing over the body of the girl and onto the stage. The change was instantaneous. Many got taller, some got shorter, most of them had a weapon of some sort appear in their hands, and some of the 'girls' became 'women'. Almost all of them had some sort of drastic change. Almost all, that is, except for one. Yes, it was the boy. He stood on the stage, and he looked exactly the same. He was still covered in dirt and blood, and he was still naked. But he didn't care.

Dr. Marigold looked upon the children with a laugh. "So you want to kill, me, is that right? That's what the guns and such are for?" he scanned the crowd lazily, "interesting… but ex-pec-ted…" his words slowed as is gaze fell upon the boy.

He stared back, and spoke, "Looks like I'm the same as you."

Dr. Marigold smiled, "Is that so?" he turned away and ordered, "Send them down." His smile turned malicious as looked back to the boy. "I'll bet on you." He said.

The guards surrounded the children, ushering them back to the circle. Some of the children tried to shoot at them, but soon found that the weapons weren't real, just replicas. Those children were all shot at, but some survived and made it back to the rest of the group.

The children stood in the center of the circle, and nothing happened for a long moment, then, all at once, the floor opened beneath them, swallowing them whole. The children, obviously, began to panic, gripping the sides and trying to climb out. Unfortunately for them, the guards had expected such behavior. And they swiftly sliced off the hands of those children. It was then, that it became apparent why the circle was red.