<span style="color: #FFFF00"><span style="font-weight: bold"><div style="text-align: center;">CHRISTINA ARNOLDS</div></span></span><br/><br/>Chrissie was floating...<br/><br/>...until she felt her face smack into something cold, hard and unforgiving. The floor of her cell. Dazed, she blinked several times as she tried to regain her bearing, her hands shooting out to support herself. A flash of red spilled across the corner of her vision as her plait swung over her shoulder, whilst shaking her head slowly as if the action would determine whether or not this was real. After a few seconds, she realised it didn't matter. Because, real or not, she was here anyway, for the foreseeable future.<br/><br/>She glanced around and realised the cold, hard thing was the tiled floor, having tumbled off a bed that she didn't recognise. She rubbed her forehead as a headache threatened to begin pounding at her temples. She couldn't remember drinking anything<span style="font-style: italic">that</span>bad...in fact she couldn't remember anything. She grappled for her own name but even that wouldn't come to her. Alarmed, she scrambled to her feet.<br/><br/>The room was not entirely unpleasant. The first thing that drew her eye was a cowboy hat perched on the foot of the bed, looking painfully familiar and yet unrecognizable at the same time. She grabbed for it and instinctively slotted it on her head, feeling it sink comfortably over her hair, accustomed to it. Feeling instantly better, she found herself staring at something else that did not evoke any familiar feelings. A teddy bear, with beady, black eyes. A tag hung around its neck and she found herself reaching for it.<br/><br/>'CHRISTINA ARNOLDS'<br/><br/>My name, she thought straightaway. Though it made more sense that that was the bear's name, she knew (she just<span style="font-style: italic">knew</span>) that was her name. Something snapped into place in her head, like an awkward jigsaw piece finally deciding to fit. The rest of the bear, however, was utterly mystifying and the odd symbol on one of its paws stirred no memory whatsoever. She decided to leave it where it sat.<br/><br/>Moving on around the room, she discovered a beautiful tiger's eye necklace, causing her to yearn for a parent that she could not remember, no matter how hard she tried, a string of random junk, making her smile though she didn't know why and a beautiful wooden duck that wasn't particularly symmetrical but very detailed. All stirred the oddest emotions inside of her but the most frustrating part was not knowing why. She even discovered a tube of lip gloss in the pocket of her jeans, that caused her to feel both relieved and oddly disappointed.<br/><br/>Restless, she traced the walls of the room, seeking an exit. She wanted to get out of this strange place that felt both familiar and alien at the same time. Almost as if the room had heard her thoughts, a section of the wall slide out with a horrendous scraping sound, revealing an exit. Alarmed, she skittered backwards. When it had stopped moving, she peered through the gap. A corridor.<br/><br/>But go through it? What lay beyond? Surely nothing worse than the suffocating walls of this cell, she thought and she slipped through, finding herself trying to make her footsteps as quiet as possible. Voices sounded; she wasn't alone. She quickened her pace, her heart threatening to leap free of her chest. She had no idea where she was going, or how she knew which way to go, but her feet were moving of their own accord. She was too disorientated to resist.<br/><br/>Finally, she emerged in a huge, cavernous room complete with a ceiling that almost looked like...wait, but it couldn't be...space?<br/><br/>Before she could marvel at her surroundings - the large crowd of people gathered included - a large, booming voice struck up, coming from nowhere and everywhere.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"><span style="font-style: italic">"Sleeper. Congratulations on making it through the Waking. Some of your cohorts did not manage to wake up. Their bodies will be removed and their rooms made available for the second wave of Sleepers."</span></span><br/><br/>She shuddered involuntarily, especially when it continued to address people in the room by name. She opened and closed her mouth, flailing for words but they failed her. This must be some kind of bizarre, twisted nightmare she tried reassuring herself but the voice drowned out her own inner mutterings.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000"><span style="font-style: italic">"You likely are wondering what the games are. They are too complicated to explain in technical terms to your kind, therefore I will simply compare them to virtual reality simulators. However, simulator is a bad choice of word since what will be happening in the game will in fact be very real. You will die in truth, if you die in the game. Those you find in the game are not actors, they are not simulations. They are living and breathing, just every bit as real as yourselves. In order to beat the game, you must fulfil the task or requirement. Your bear will be in every game and will provide you with special abilities, if you can find it. It will be hidden somewhere in the game world, but never more than half a mile from your first location. You have ten minutes to reach the Amphitheater. Refuse to participate and there will be dire consequences. Your first game will be a test."</span></span><br/><br/>The lights blacked out above her and the ugly twisting in Chrisse's stomach made her think perhaps she was rediscovering one of her real-life fears; the dark. People began to move, flowing towards an opening that had appeared. Eyes wide, Chrissie found herself stumbling past a group of people who appeared to be around her own age, including the blonde-haired girl the eerie, floating voice had addressed and a couple of other unconventional looking characters. There appeared to be no pattern in swarm of folk around her - every possible stereotype seemed to be hurrying past. She hoped they were as confused as her as she found herself tagging onto the former group, clutching at her hat as she struggled against the tide of people. And for some reason, amidst the panic and fear, she found herself wanting to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">"What do you guys think?"</span>the girl said.<br/><br/>Even though the question wasn't addressed to her, Chrissie found herself responding. Well, at least she had deduced she wasn't shy.<br/><br/>"I'm guessing we'd better get our butts in that amphitheatre," she said, hearing her voice for the first time "I have no idea what's going - hey, y'all, by the way - but that guy on the loudspeaker sounded pretty serious...oh, and I'm Christina, in case you were wond'ring...I<span style="font-style: italic">think</span>... "