I stared around the dull gray room, packed with my classmates, all restless in there chairs. Some tapped there fingers, while others glanced nervously at the clock, and others still darted there eyes from the plate to the teacher. She stood in the corner, stone still, leaning away, coolly surveying the scene. Her piercing icy blue eyes scanned the crowd before her. Her extremely light hair tumbled down, passed her shoulders to the small of her back. It surrounded her, illuminating her face in an unearthly glow. She slowly shook her head, sending her hair billowing up around her, as if it were lightly touched by a nonexistent wind. Then it gradually settled, cascading down and around her pixie like frame, a waterfall of milky white pooling along the length her back. It framed her elegant elfin face turning her already pale skin nearly translucent. She leisurely licked her barely pink lips, and then smiled a hollow hunting smile. She then slowly shifted her weight, pulling herself to full height, and smiled again. She seemed almost ancient, yet she had the appearance of no more then 20 years of age.
The others watched entranced, the tension building. She started towards the table, seeming to glide almost effortlessly through the air, coming to a halt at the table’s edge. She slowly, tentatively reached out, drawing her finger over the edge of the ceramic plate. We gazed, mesmerized, our eyes ensnared by her slow, fluid movements. She caressed it, and looking up, smiled once more, as if she were taunting us. She laughed a soft, vacant, unemotional laugh. The echo floated out over us. It had an eerie ring to it, almost evil. She gazed out, her stare locking on each and every one of us. There were cold as ice, hard as steel. “There’s only one left.” She declared, her voice no more then a whisper. “Who will get it?” she mocked, her voice, soft as velvet, smooth as silk, sweet as honey. She smiled once more, and then laughed menacingly, with her razor sharp stare, glaring threateningly, settling over us. A murmur passed through the crowd. Could there only be one left? “Who gets it is completely…. up….to…..you.” she muttered, almost to herself. She, then, gradually turned and slipped out the room. We all froze, time seeming to stop as we all processed what she said. Then chaos burst out. All order disengaged. War cries bellowed out as we surged forward to grab it, each determined to claim the prize.
I charged, knocking people out of my way. My heart pounded, my mind raced, sending panic tearing at my sanity. I had to have it. At that moment, I felt cold clammy hands seize my neck, and with an angry cry I threw my head back. I heard the crunching of bone, and felt warm blood ooze down my neck. Their body collapsed against my own, nearly crushing me with dead weight. I heaved them off, and lumbered forward. My breath came in short labored gasps as I fought my way to the front. I stumbled forward, tripping and sliding, falling once of twice, then fighting to stand. Ear splitting shrikes of pain erupted all around me. There pleas for mercy were cut short as there lives were snatched away from them. In a daze I continued onward. I must have it. The words echoed in my head. Pounding over and over. I must have it. I must have it.
Then suddenly all sound ceased. The quiet pressed in around me in a suffocating mass. The only sound, my beating heart. The hush lasted only a fraction of a second but to me it seemed to last a life time. The silence it self soon became a sound, too loud to bear. Then a battle cry pierced the veil of noiselessness. His yell, a gunshot in the silence. I spun, facing my final competitor. My only thought were after he’s down, it is mine. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and then ran down his meaty face and neck. His eyes smoldered with anger, much like coals in a dying fire. He breathed in short heavy bursts and stomped at the ground, while shaking all over. The scene vaguely reminded me of the beginning of a bull fight, he the bull, I the matador waving the big crimson banner. The dance with death had begun. I, trembling uncontrollably, did what any sane person would do when facing this giant. I charged head first, racing toward the monstrosity. He, not expecting this form of attack, froze, unsure what to do. I felt my head collide with his soft middle. His bulged and rolled back into his head, his face contorting with pain. He collapsed, plunging toward the floor, his chest heaving. I saw my opportunity.
I abandoned him, leaving him writhing in agony on the now bloodied tile floor. I raced to the table, greedily snatching it in to my hands. I won. It is mine. I smelled its sickeningly sweet aroma. The sent wafted up and lazily tickled my nose. My mouth watered, and slowly, delicately, bit into it. The warm chocolate mixed with the heated cookie in heavenly bliss. I slowly enjoyed my prize, the last, fresh baked chocolate chunk cookie of the batch.
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