Unleashed: the Final Fight Begins
Copyright© 2026 by TMax
Chapter 2: The Set-Up
Maze 92 variant C. A simple maze with long corridors. This maze favored a speedster. Only a daredevil might have a slight chance against a flash. Rob could shoot from a distance, incapacitating me until he could close and cut me up. The wide halls meant he could dance outside my arm’s reach while his rapier sliced my tendons and bled me. My healing could only do so much. If I had picked the standard hulk or dead weapons, Rob would have killed me without breaking a sweat. Thankfully, my plan would or wouldn’t work just the same.
I turned the first corner, and the bullet ripped through my right shoulder. Then I heard the gunshot and felt the pain. My body jumped backward in reflex as another bullet shattered my forearm. Blood oozed, and pain radiated up my arm. I leaned against the wall in the short hallway. To my left and around the corner, Rob stood at the end of a twenty-foot hallway. Further to my left, the blue door, now locked, tempted me. I could rip it off the hinges and take a disqualification, with punishment almost worse than death, but I would live. I still had a chance, lower than I hoped, maybe, but still about fifty percent, I figured.
To the right, five feet away, another corner, and in this maze, another twenty-foot corridor that ended in a T intersection. Right or left. If I choose to go right, and Rob had moved to that end, he would kill me before I made it halfway down the hallway. If I went left, and Rob hadn’t moved, he would also kill me. I hadn’t thought that they would use this maze, as it had no cover for hulks or deads, I thought they would at least give me a chance. I could almost hear the screams of anyone who bet on me, including my three friends, but also the laughter of everyone who bet against me, fuckers.
Rob would have to run through an extensive maze to get to the right side, which Zer claimed he wouldn’t waste the energy on. I know I would have run the distance, as most trapped animals and people would have already rushed to the right. Zer thought he didn’t think that deep, would hold a position until he either knew it no longer favored him or he believed I had moved on.
I counted to thirty and trusted that Zer had assessed Rob correctly, turned right, and ran down the hallway. The concrete floor cut my bare feet while the red and black painted metal walls rushed by. Unlike a rat, I knew the maze and where to run. I hoped Rob would expect me to go left, then right, then straight, until I made it into a corner, which would provide the most cover, so I did the opposite.
This maze had a dead end in the middle that provided partial coverage, so I turned left at the end, ignored the first left, then chose the second left. A dead end that appeared to turn left at the end, but didn’t, instead it had a half-foot corner that I could almost hide in, which fit my plan.
I have never run so fast, with anger, at how unfair they made this, coursed through my body, made my hands shake, and gave me a sour taste in my mouth, but also increased my energy, my focus, and my desire to live.
I arrived, spun, and listened for Rob. I figured I had between two and ten minutes to set up my trap if he had rushed to my expected location. However, if he had help from the outside, which I didn’t doubt, I may only have a minute, much less if I guessed wrong about his destination. I needed forty-five seconds, longer if I rushed and made a mistake. With the tremble in my hands and sweat that soaked them, I feared I would.
I heard nothing, no sound, no Rob flying through the halls, and I thought, ‘Maybe this will work,’ before I chastised myself to stay focused and get everything done, in order.
I have practiced the sequence until I could do it without thinking. Zer and I worked everything out. What to do, but just as important, how to act, react, and appear for the audience. If someone suspected and notified Rob, which, while illegal, still happens, and based on the maze selection and the match, likely would happen.
For five seconds, I appeared stunned at the deadend. Wide-eyed with a small tear, I stood still as my gaze darted around to analyze the space. Four feet deep, four and a half feet wide, which, because I had memorized all the mazes, I knew would work for the plan, almost perfect, like the maze selector knew my plan and chose this maze. Not likely, because sixty-two percent of the mazes had something similar, and the remaining thirty-eight percent would have favored a hulk, so I wouldn’t have needed this plan.
I leaned my back against the right wall and lowered into a deep squat, my pussy tingled and spread. I dropped my head as if I had given up. My hands dangled just above my pussy. I hoped that the camera would get a close-up on my face or maybe my breasts, because it couldn’t see my hand-covered cunt. In secret, I dug into my vagina and pulled out a twenty-foot-long thin cable, so thin that it cut my fingers as I hid it in my palm. The six small spikes drew blood, but the blood from my forearm would cover that. I worried more that I couldn’t use two of my fingers and that part of that arm had gone numb.
Fifteen seconds so far, I only needed thirty more. A bang echoed from the far corner of the maze. Rob’s frustration. Not a good sign. I hoped he would investigate longer, that I would have more time. Someone informed him. I still had enough, but barely.
I stumbled back to the hallway and paused, as if to listen and test the corner to see if I could climb the walls. Too slick, the organizers had removed that option when the gamblers complained too loudly about contestants who climbed the walls and ran along the tops, especially the devils, as it skewed the odds too much, though, officially, they did it for our safety. I could punch holes in the wall, but I didn’t have time, and Rob could shoot me just as easily above the maze as in. It might make it easier.
My fingers pressed along one corner, then the other. Only thirty-five seconds total, my best time, and I needed it, because Rob’s gun echoed from the end of the hallway. He wanted me driven back into the dead end, which I obliged. Blood dripped off my left middle finger, big red drops that splattered on the concrete floor, and added more texture to pink patches from other contestants. No one had died in this maze yet. Typically, they used this one for matches between flashes, and most flashes didn’t have enough bloodlust to kill. Rob, the exception, made many of the organizers extremely excited because everyone likes blood, and Rob gives them lots of blood.
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