We were chosen for some game, some stupid game.  The six of us, did any of us have any special talents? No, were just chosen.  Is it it for something important? I guess, if you consider the winner is the only one who gets to live.  I guess it is important then.

  I don't think we were actually competing, just sharing stories. Whoever this **** liked the most gets to leave.  We all gave our stories and he was jotting down some notes about god knows what.   My story was a traumatic one, but most of the other competitors had sad stories.  None of them heroic, or adventurous.  Was my story more interesting? No, and now I am probably going to die here.
 
  "I was already a **** up kid when I was four.  I found my cat sitting on a shed. I was petting it; boy, did I love that darn thing.   When I looked into my cat's eyes.  The ants were eating it, they were eating his decomposing body.  I was petting a dead cat.   I hate ants."

  That was my story, that was supposed to save my life.  How was I supposed to live when people had stories about them having their two month old die in a fire.  My story, was just simple, true, and my exciting life moment.  I sounded like a wuss.
 
  He was looking at all of us and his assistant, his weird assistant was on the computer vigorously typing and clicking.   He was on the phone making calls and whatever evil henchmen do..

  His means of killing us, well were in it.   He is going to gas us out, except of course the winner.  Maybe.   What if he did not like any of our stories, what if he was just going to kill all of us.  Maybe it is my time to go into a peaceful black abyss.  I was never a really believer in any god, I just assumed there is none.

 I had so many better stories, I could of told him the story of my dad savagely beating my mom and as I watched she cried to me asking me to call the cops.  The baby she was holding should of died at two, but she didn't.   This isn't my story though, this was my older sister's story.   I know it happened though, I was there.

  The man who failed to adequately explain who he is said he made his judgment.  He walked over to me and told me my story was the only one that was true.  A brunette shouted in protest.  She said "My baby did die in the crash, the terrible, terrible crash."  He just laughed and retorted "Your family says you didn't have a kid."  She put her head down ready to die.

  The ominous man told me "You can save one other person and leave with them and what you do from now on is your business.  Of course I can't let you tell people of this, so keep quiet and there will be a hefty sum of money waiting in your account.  If you do tell anybody though, I will kill you. Same goes for the person you choose." 

  I couldn't decide, they were all strangers to me all of them lied and all of them are in the same boat.  I have four to choose from, I already decided not to take the **** in the red.  He can die for all I care that rat.  I laughed, I am doing it again I thought. I am dehumanizing him so it is easier for me to handle.  Pseudo-Speciation. I always liked that term.

  I could take the brunette, she was the only one who spoke up.  Does that man she values her life more?  She defended a lie she knew that he knew wasn't true.   I told the man, I would take the brown haired lady.

 The other four, in silence, prepared for their execution. I left in  wondering why those four never talked.  I may never know.

  That brown haired lady, she's dead now.  She was hit by a car.  I have my suspicion's though that it was an accident.  Am I going to do anything about it?  No, I can't do anything.  This guy is powerful and knows what he is doing. 

  He is going to kill more and I can't stop it.