A Beginning...

[SansaSaver]

Nicholas wished he’d been called first.

He didn’t want to be called at all, but to be called first would mean having some blessed sense of the unknown. That he wouldn’t have to face neither the confirmation that so many of his friends and classmates were being sent to their deaths, nor their respective reaction to that knowledge.

But name after name had been said, and with each of them the small bubble of tension within him snowballed even further. Some were defiant, some enthusiastic. And some did almost nothing at all. He watched the reactions of his peers, and the teachers, and the soldiers to each of those actions, noticed what got murmurs of approval or looks of sympathy or frowns of disappointment. And so by the time the words

“Nicholas Rogers”

were said, he barely blinked an eye. Already knew what he was going to do. He swallowed back every emotion he could, and began a measured, calculated walk towards the designated exit – not too fast, not too slow, nothing anyone could read anything into. He made a glance in his peripheral vision, hoping it wouldn’t register to any of the unwaveringly stoic authority in his midst. He wanted to see Patricia. She would be with the other sophomores, and he wanted to give her one final smile of approval, even a few final words of farewell if she was close enough. But he couldn’t find her amidst the sea of people packed around him.

As the first camera came into close proximity with him, Nikki thought for a moment about dropping his jeans, to ‘pull a Mina’. He and her had never gotten along, but in that moment of defiance he couldn’t help but feel some flicker of respect for her. But then he thought what his parents would say, and his fly was left unopened. And so, nondescript and uneventful, Nicholas Rogers made his way out into the brisk air.

As he pulled his bomber jacket closer against him, he only just registered his sister’s shrieks of despair.

[Kermit]

Harland wasn't a big fan of announcement day. It was mostly the standing; his legs got tired real fast and his feet went numb about ten minutes in. Like, why did they need to stand, anyways? It wasn't like sitting down hampered your ability to get kidnapped at gunpoint. Shit, what was even the point of announcement day? He figured it would be smarter to like, maybe be quiet about killing your own citizens, minimize public outrage, all that jazz.

Oh well. People hated rational thinking.

The big screen flicked on. Oh hey, there was the guy! Now what was his name again? Harland'd forgotten because it wasn't like this happened four times a fucking year or anything. Oh, he was the General! Wow, thanks for reminding us, mister General!

His breath caught in his throat. Generalissimo had just called out his school. His class.

Well shit, that kinda sucked.

Names were called out, one by one. There were a lot.

"Harland Strange."

Well, double shit.

[Ohm]

Derrick Thomson stared forward as names blew by. He knew throughout the years there was a chance they would get picked. Hell, they all knew it, but they just blew it off. It's a 1 in a 100 chance of getting picked, why worry? Well, now was the time for worrying. He watched as people were called. Some decided to be memorable about it, probably infamous even. Others were resigned, defeated. There was no point either way, they all knew where they were going. No question about it.

Derrick worried about home. Who'd take care of his mom now? Ever since his father died years ago she hadn't been the same, he took care of the dishes and the cleaning and his siblings and now he was going away, probably to die. He worried about his younger brother and sister, they were both too young for all of this and who'd get the money for them? Their aunts and uncles? Hah. More chance of a literal shooting star landing in their backyard than that.

Though there was a part of him that had hope left in it. A small foolish part. Hope that he wouldn't get picked. Hope that he would get to go home and hug his mother and siblings again. Hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd get to live.

"Derrick Thomson."

It didn't take long for it to die.

Derrick briskly stood up and walked to the bus as fast as he could, he just wanted this to be over with.

[Aura]

Leonard sat idly by in his finely pressed shirt and slacks, watching as his classmates were taken away one by one.  He had wanted to dress in his finest clothes for Announcement Day.  After all, it was an important occasion, so it was best to make himself look good for it.  And besides, he was the son of an officer, so he had a reputation to uphold.

"Leonard Roycewood."

"What?"

Leonard leapt out of his seat with a shout.  This was wrong!  This was absolutely, definitely wrong!  The Program was for those who had nothing worth living for, not people like him!  He had a future!  He wasn't supposed to be called!  "No!"  He cried out, refusing to believe that he could possibly have been selected.

The soldiers seemed to anticipate him being difficult, as one of them had already grabbed him by the arms and started the process of dragging him out the door.  Leonard didn't make it easy for him, though.  Not because he was putting up any resistance.  Oh no, he was too busy screaming and pleading for that.

"This is wrong!  This is all wrong!  My dad's an officer at the base!  You can't do this to me!  I'm important!  I'm supposed to-"

KLUNK

The rifle butt knocked him out cold, and the soldier carrying him breathed a sigh of relief as he brought him he rest of the way to the bus.

[Primrosette]

Elias Mills had been waiting for the moment when his name was going to be announced. Because there was no way that he could escape the fate that was heading his way. He readjusted his blue cap on his head, trying to avoid eye contact with the ones that were going to be left behind. His younger sister, Ella, was somewhere but he couldn't see her at all.

He felt himself tensing up as Leonard had freaked out and then knocked out to get dragged away to his doomed fate. Elias almost felt bad for the guy. Almost....

"Elias Mills."

Instead of losing his shit, Elias got up to his feet slowly and he glanced around, noticing that Ella was starting to cry near the front. He felt his heart breaking just seeing her like that.

The soldiers were looking his way and Elias forced himself to move forward quickly. He hoped that Ella would be alright. He sighed quietly as he made his way to the bus. He had to make a plan of what he was going to do.

[Somersault]

Maybe it was a bit vain, sure, but KeKe Baker knew one thing: If she was gonna be sent to her death today, then she was gonna be sent to her death looking fly as fuck. No ifs and buts about it, she had dressed herself up real fine, and it wasn't as if she was gonna get picked anyways, right? It was one of those things that was never, ever gonna happen, like her becoming Homecoming Queen or her brother coming back from the dead. Simply impossible.

"...Mekayka Baker."

Well, at least until those two words came out, and her eyes bulged like she had seen the devil. Jesus, shit, fuck, Christ. Her high heels began clacking on the cold-ass floor as she began walking towards the death bus, but it was like she wasn't even walking herself. Like one of those out-of-body experiences on TV, but actually happening to her.

Currently, she was feeling a lot of things right now. A sudden urge to vomit was pretty high up there, but so was anger, fear, and oh god please help me I'm gonna die. Similarly, many things were running through her head, but she knew most of them would get her knocked out like a ho, so she wasn't gonna attempt any of them. KeKe was not an idiot, and was going to die. Most probably.

Exiting the building, the sudden, blistering cold attacked her, nipping at her exposed angles, as she deeply regretted her decision to not cover up more for the winter weather. Was it just her, or did everything feel colder now? Either way, she wasn't going to turn back and see the school building behind her.

She didn't want everyone to be able to see the look of fear in her eyes.

[KamiKaze]

Announcement day was… dramatic.

Of course, that was to be expected. If you didn’t show up, you could be sent away at best. Then, you could be picked to fight for America. It was nothing to laugh at.

For Anneliese O’Doyle, it certainly was a big deal. She always tried to pick the right outfits for it. Her first Announcement day, she wore a nice dress that she usually put on special occasions, along with heels and tights. However, later that day she’d realized that if she ever got picked, she’d have trouble fighting. So, she kept practicality in mind, too. Today it was a dark gray turtleneck sweater, with a pair of jeans. She made sure to put a long jacket on, too, and some boots good for winter. She also tried to keep her hair tied back. Having long hair can be a pain, so it was worth thinking about that. All in all, she tried her hardest to look prepared for anything, but not like a total slob like some of her classmates. Of course, she didn’t expect to be picked, but really, you never know.

She usually never got to hear her name called out too much, come to think of it. Anneliese had done speeches for student council elections in this very auditorium before. Of course, she was never the one to get her name called out because she won. She auditioned for school plays, but only got the bit roles. She tried to get good grades, but she doubted she would be valedictorian. So honestly, even if her school was picked, the trend was going to keep.

Of course, she turned out to be wrong.

“Anneliese O’Doyle.”

She said nothing. Her face was unreadable as she left for the bus.

[Fenrir]

Michael’s expression was unreadable as he listened to the announcement. Ever since the official had declared that his school, his class, was to be the one selected for this year’s Program, he had stood in stony silence as his classmates names were read off one by one. He didn’t react to Mina’s little rebellious act, didn’t react as people he knew were led out of the auditorium under armed guard, didn’t react as people cried, screamed or collapsed. On the surface he was the picture of calm.

Inside was a different story.

Like any good American he was prepared for the possibility of being chosen for The Program; he didn’t look forward to announcement day, but he treated it with the respect it deserved. It was a national event. He made sure to come to school early and made sure to dress appropriately; not in fancy clothes like some idiots, but dressed to win. He was ready.

He always thought he would be ready.

“Michael Baird”

But like any other student in the country he also never expected to actually be picked. He’d been in a state of shock ever since he had realised his class was being chosen, half convinced this was all a dream fuelled by pre-announcement day anxiety.

He didn’t react to his name being called; he didn’t even really hear it, still stuck in his own thoughts as he was. He maintained his rigid posture, eyes forward, until he saw a soldier approach him from the corner of his eye, at which point he quickly turned and snapped off a smart salute to the man as his father taught him. Without a word and still with a stony expression Michael walked past the soldiers towards the exit at a quick enough pace that they wouldn’t feel the need to hurry him along.

It was time to do his country and his family proud.

[Pippi]

Victoria watched as her classmates filed out of the hall. She counted, in her head, how many of them caused her heart to drop and plunge into her boots, how many names she’d wake up crying out in the middle of the night because they were gone forever and never coming back. They’d all spent most of their childhood together, playing and studying and growing amongst each other, and just like that, half of them were going to vanish off the face of the earth.

By the time Leon’s name had been called, she’d counted about three. Three and a half, if she was being generous.

She stood and waited for this all to be over and done with, hands neatly clasped in front of her, not a hair out of place or a crease in her skirt. It was beyond tedium, Announcement Day, Even the moment when her school had been chosen only caused a brief flurry of excitement, before that had quickly been drenched by a list of names she didn’t care about. The sooner this was finished, the sooner she could get back to class, sans the troublemakers and worthless no-names, and good riddance to them too.

“… Victoria Bellamy.”

… What?

Victoria blinked and stared up at the screen. This… This had to be a mistake, right? A slip of the tongue? Another Victoria? She’d always known there was a chance her name would be called – nothing in life was ever guaranteed, after all – but she’d thought it so minute that she’d never even considered it would ever happen before she graduated.

After all, she’d followed every single rule, both real and unspoken, to be a good patriot, and that was how this whole thing worked. The better the patriot you were, the less likely your name would be chosen, come Announcement Day. That was… That was how this worked, right? That was what dad had told her, and-

She felt two hands either side of her grab her arms, and she glanced back to see the two soldiers ready to escort her out. She wriggled, attempting to shrug them off.

“Oh, get off, for Christ’s sake! I’m going, all ri-“

Victoria’s words were cut off by a stinging slap to the back of her head. She felt tears spring up in the corners of her eyes, and she turned to try and scowl at the offending soldier, but the second she stopped moving he shoved her forwards and she stumbled over her own feet, nearly tripping onto her face.

She didn’t understand. She’d been a good patriot, a damn good one, the perfect and ideal American girl. Even if that hadn’t saved her from being selected to take part in the Program, she wasn’t supposed to be getting treated like this. She was supposed to be treated with respect and admiration, acknowledgement that what she was doing was for the good of America. These soldiers should have been forming a guard of honour as she made her way to the transport vehicle. Not shoving her brusquely into the biting cold outside.

She’d done everything The General wanted from her, and yet it still wasn’t enough.

She clumped up the steps of the old metal bus. She took a seat in a chair with patches and stuffing poking out, and started to cry.

[Aster]

All Paxton could think about was how screwed their football team was.

It may have been an incredibly petty thought, but keeping his mind occupied like that kept him from going into a full-blown panic. So far two of their best defenders, James and Ambrose, had been chosen. Sure, the season had ended already, but it was still a damn shame. The Program had chipped away from their team’s living legacy. He remembered that none of the juniors were as good as them, and it was some big shoes to fill. He hoped that the rest of the team was alright - he didn’t need to lose any more friends.

“Paxton Dombrowski.”

Oh.

Paxton gulped. Well, looks like they also lost their wide receiver.

[Katie]

"Scott Wallace."

Scott was absolutely gleeful at being chosen. He was excited to have this chance to murder his classmates. He would be able to show what a good patriot he was, and have fun while doing it, too!

[Namira]

No no no, no no no no no no. No GODDAMMIT no!

If there was a table around, Grant would have flipped it. Guaranteed.

What kind of bullshit was this? As if he didn't have enough to worry about with the military, now they were adding the fucking Program to the mix!? He was supposed to be an actor, go on the stage—he wasn't supposed to—rgh!

Grant wanted to punch something, or cry, or scream. His heart was racing; if he thought it had been going fast when the General finished talking, that was nothing. It felt like it was trying to burst out of his ribcage, as if he was having a goddamn heart attack.

There wasn't even a chair to kick over.

Grant shouldered his way through the ranks and made his way to the front. People had been crying out, cursing, making petty displays of defiance. He thought for a second that maybe he should do something himself, leave a mark somehow before his probable doom.

He looked dead at the camera. He raised a clenched fist to his chest.

"Just watch me."

[Tapey]

Scott could feel his heart pounding fast.

This is the third one. He thought as he witnessed Paxton, his third teammate being called out. He wasn’t sure what to worry more, to be the next person called, or to fill the gap left by the nominated football team players. He started to feel uncertain, thinking about what might happen next.

It’s okay, Scott. Everything is going to be fine. He took a deep breath, calming himself down from all the anxiety and fear. He convinced himself that the other players are in their team for a reason, and even though three of the key players were nominated, it wouldn’t be too hard to fill their spots by recruiting more students and practices. Trying to be optimistic while hearing the announcement, he told himself, “What could possibly gone wro....”

“Scott Pierce.”

His thoughts were interrupted by the voice from the announcement.

He gave a small grin, but he didn’t know why. Seems like all his doubts had been cleared as his name was called.

Looks like I’m next. He thought, being the fourth player in his team to be announced in the program.

[Blastinus*]

Cole Peters was not surprised to hear his name when it had come. After all, his life had already been planned for him up to this point, so the Program was just a step sideways.

He didn't cry. He didn't shout or fuss. Instead, he just slouched forward, step by step, the bus door yawning open like a gateway to the abyss.

Part of him wondered if his father had put them up to this. They'd been arguing more and more lately, ever since the incident with the squirrels. He'd thought he'd been so clever, taking all their ammunition and throwing it into the lake. After all, if they had nothing to hunt with, then they'd have to go home early, right?

His father had other plans. Presumably to make a point, they'd stayed out there for the full week, subsisting on nothing but the rations they'd brought. Cole was starving, his father was starving, and neither of them had truly forgiven the other for it. That was four years ago.

His father had tried all sorts of methods to get him to use a gun: threatening, bullying, calling him a "sissy" (and other, more vulgar versions of the same), starving him again...nothing had worked. Cole was a moody child, but he had a will of iron, and even when his father had physically forced the gun into his hand and tried to put his finger around the trigger, he'd fought him and won. Earned himself a smack across the face for it, but that was more than worth it.

It had all come to a head the evening before the roll was called. His father had a new card to play, and he'd cornered him in the hall to drop it. "The whiners? People like you? I've seen what they do to them," he spat at Cole. "They'll single out one of you and..." he made a finger gun and leveled it at Cole's forehead. "Bam. No warning, no hesitation, they won't even blink. You want to be like that, Cole? Just some nameless nobody dropped in a ditch?"

Cole didn't even have the energy to argue anymore. Instead, he just sighed grimly, his hands in his pockets, and mused, "Well, maybe I'll get lucky."

Apparently not. Cole never had aspirations for the military, but the Program was not a blessing in disguise, nor was it a way out. One way or the other, he was sinking further and further into the grave. His only hope was that it would be over quickly.

[Tapey]

Otis could feel himself shuddering in fear. All out of sudden, everything around him was silent.

He did not asked for this.

He did not came all the way from Louisiana, hoping to get himself a better life, just to had himself stucked in a deadly game of murder with his classmates.

No, non, nope. He could think of 10 other ways to express his denial over the program right now. He wanted to escape from this horrible place. He didn’t want to even hear about the program. But then, the announcement broadcasted the thing that he didn’t want to hear the most.

“Otis Lenz.”

“Fuck!” The young boy cussed softly in frustration. Deep down, he knew well about himself that he had only a little, nearly zero chance to survive this program. Basically, he just won himself a one way ticket to hell.

Ah well, Otis calmed himself down, didn’t want to catch some attention from the crowd. Let’s get this over with.