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Ares
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V3 World Heavyweight Champion
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((OOC: This is a private thread taking place on Day 5))
((Also, all GMing in this thread was approved by handlers involved))

----

((Staffan Kronwall continued from Hysteria. Darren Locke continued from Cabin Fever))

Darren Locke has long since lost his traveling companion Jamie. One moment he had been taking a nap, the next he woke up along in the middle of the jungle. Not exactly what his master plan had been, but it did help him realize that Jamie could have killed him and he wouldn't have stood a chance. He would have to be more careful if he was going to make it home.

After making sure to take notes of the dangerzones and anyone particularly dangerous, Darren found himself in an area marked on his map as the Fun Fair, which indicated a rather large House of Mirrors in it's parameters. Darren had arrived in the Fun Fair shortly after midnight, so navigating his way to the Fun Fair in the dark proved a challenge. What proved to be a greater challenge was navigating the house of mirrors itself. After one too many close encounters of the wall-to-face kind, Darren remember about his lighter in the first aid kit they'd been assigned. Luckily for him it sparked a flame on the first try and he was soon able to navigate his way up to the second floor of the building.

He picked a spot near the place where he'd entered the second floor and sat down against one of the mirrors. Darren took a side-ward glance into one of the mirrors, using the lighter to view his reflection. He chuckled to himself as he realized the toll the jungle had had on him so far. He was lucky enough to still feel strong, but he certainly didn't look it. He made a mental note to find a water source to wash up at in the morning. After working his bag into a somewhat comfortable position under his head, Darren allowed his eyes to close.

---

Staffan Kronwall was still rattled about what had happened at the Parish. It hadn't been his fault right? Brent Shanahan had provoked him, and that Alicia girl wouldn't stop screaming. He didn't even have a chance to explain to her what happened. She didn't even give him a chance to show that Brent was a dick. She claimed he'd been so cruel. That was rich coming for her. Staffan was willing to bet that she assumed he killed Brent because he was a foreign kid. It was always easy for these Americans to blame it on an outsider. Staffan was also willing to bet that if it had been his older brother in the same position, Alicia would have dropped to her knees and blew him on the spot.

Staffan had been laying low. Moving only when he had to, and trying to stay away from anyone who came near him. However, all that alone time had given Staffan a lot of time to think about his brother and once he heard over the announcement that the other Kronwall brother had killed someone, something in Staffan finally clicked. He instantly thought of how Nik was probably someone's big hero with his kill, and how he would convince everyone around that situation that he was their ticket to survival. Mr. Popularity. First he became the star of the hockey team. Then he managed to get the girl Staffan has secretly crushed on. This was the last straw. He couldn't take living in his brother's shadow any longer and Staffan resolved to show the world that he was the better Kronwall. He would be the winner of Survival of the Fittest.

Staffan shielded his eyes as the sunlight of the morning hit him dead on as he exited the dense brush. He was now in the Fun Fair, standing very near to a house of mirrors.

Good place for someone to hide.

Staffan entered the house of mirrors with his fist clenched and daypack slung over his shoulder. He would be ready with the dynamite at a moments notice.

---

Darren awoke with a start. He heard footsteps coming from the floor below.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," He breathed, "Locke you idiot."

Darren berated himself as quietly as he could while he scrambled to get his belongings together. Escape out the way he came in was not an option. He would have to move very carefully through the mirrors. Darren rose to his feet and began to tread softly along the path through the mirrors. Each step felt like it took an eternity to complete. It did not help that Darren could still hear the footsteps coming from the floor beneath him. Then, it happened. Darren placed his right foot down and heard a damning sound. A loud and obnoxious moan emitted from the floor beneath him.

"Fuck me..."

---

It was like the house of mirrors wanted Staffan to begin his conquest within it's walls. The floor groaned against something above him. Staffan was already near the stairs that led to the second level, so he took two long strides then began his ascent. Staffan bounded into the second level of the house of mirrors, only to be halted by the sight in front of him. There stood a boy, obviously the source of the noise, facing him with a sword in his hands. Staffan recognized the boy. His name was Darren Locke.

"Nice sword you have." Staffan said, not taking his eyes off of it.

Darren had decided it would be better to be prepared and had readied his gladius for the oncomer. He had not expected the person appearing from the stairwell to be 6 feet 4 inches of Swedish hockey machine. Darren gulped as he realized that Staffan had been one of the announced killers. Here Darren stood. A killer in front of him, and an exit that would be difficult to find if the hulk in front of him decided to give chase.

"Yeah. It is a nice sword." Darren said, trying to sound as tough as he could.

Staffan moved his hands behind his back before speaking again.

"Have you had to use it yet, or it is just for show?" The Swede asked through his accent.

"No, I haven't had to use it, and I don't want to Staffan. Unlike you I suppose? I heard what you did earlier. How could you do that? We should be trying to fight the people who put us here, not each other." Darren replied fiercely.

"Typical. Fucking typical. You assume that I killed Brent and Alicia for fun," Staffan could feel his temper rising, "You don't even give me a chance? You just believe what that Danya man says?"

"So what if I do Staffan? You and your brother are both killers. How do I know you aren't working together? I have to watch my own ass out here, and when I hear that someone is a murderer, I damn sure make a note of that!"

"Well, I hope you make note of this." Staffan said as his arms came forward, his right hand releasing something small and red in Darren's direction.

If Darren Locke had taken the time to study the moment, he would have seen what the cameras broadcasting this moment to the world could see. Staffan's nonchalant pose had a purpose. Staffan had fished his lighter out of the bag and lit the fuse on one of the dynamite sticks. That very same dynamite stick was now sailing towards Darren Locke's feet.

Staffan dove back into the stairwell, getting as far down the stairs as he could.

Darren Locke felt like his feet were glued to the ground. He felt the gladius drop from his hand as he turned to run, but in a cruel twist of fate, Darren ran smack into one of the mirrors. He shook his head out of the daze and looked at the dynamite stick mere feet away. He closed his eyes and strange even to him, had only one slightly calming thought.

Everything happens for a reason.

*BOOM*

The eruption from the stick shattered the glass around Darren. The force of the blast propelled Darren's body through the air, smashing through the mirrored walls and over the small viewing balcony of the second floor. The shards of mirrored glass tore at every inch of Darren like small bullets. Darren's body fell through the air and landed with a sickening thud outside of the house of mirrors. A small spurt of blood shot itself from his mouth as his head rolled to the side. Darren was dead before he hit the ground. The force of the blast at close radius had collapsed his lungs. Combining that with a rather large shard of mirror impaling itself into Darren's neck had resulted in his death.

B106 - Darren Locke - Deceased

---

Staffan turned back in the stairwell in time to feel the force of the boom from above, and to feel the shard shower that was blasted through the opening to the stairwell. Staffan ducked his head protectively under the trench coat. After regaining his composure, Staffan ventured back down the stairs. He snaked his way through the first floor maze and made his way back outside to survey his kill.

Now we will see who is the best brother.
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