The Bloody Axes show

"Hello, everyone! Welcome to the Bloody Axes show!" The announcer yells into the microphone.

The crowd roars in such a twisted way I almost scream at them, "Shut up, you idiots!" But that would get my immediately dead.

I never have thought about getting chosen to kill people on a game show. Even if I did, I never would have guessed that I would be chosen. I was just a regular person, not a serial killer or crazy murderer.

But now I would have to become one of those things or die.

"Now," the announcer says, "for those of you who are new to Bloody Axes, it is a game show in which this young lady right here will have to kill strangers or kill herself. Now, bring out the stranger!"

A small boy, looking about ten or so, shuffled out onto the stage. His eyes were wide and full of dread. In his hand was a picture of a lady who looked like his mother.

The announcer handed me and axe with dried blood on it. "Now, you may kill him or kill yourself," he said. "If he lives, he gets five thousand dollars. If you live, it is the same for you. What do you choose?"

I clutched the axe and moved backwards from the boy. I dropped the axe, hearing it crash onto the ground. "I won't kill a small boy. I will not kill for money!" I exclaimed.

"Oh," said the announcer, "that is a shame. Does she need some coaxing, audience?"

More cheers and screams of "yes" rose up.

"Okay," the announcer said, and cleared his throat. "Young lady, if you kill this boy you will only have to kill nine more people. This boy is a stranger. You have no reason to show mercy for him. And if you kill the rest of the nine people, you will be rich for the rest of your life." He let out a cold laugh. "And not dead, of course."

I thought about his words. It was true, I would be rich, and not dead. But being dead was better than living with the guilt of killing ten people for the rest of your life.

The boy opened his mouth, and I thought he was going to scream, or vomit, or do some gesture of fear towards me. But he only said so quietly I could only hear him, "Go on. Do it. But please do it quickly."

I shook my head, and put the axe to my throat. The crowd was hushed. I felt the cold metal on my skin, and then warmth as I pressed it to my throat. Then pain. Pain so great and so fast, it almost did not seem real. But then the lights went out in my eyes, and I had did it. I had killed myself.