Grace's so-called confinement unit wasn't overly confining. Had she the desire to do so, she could have stretched out easily. As it was, she simply chose to sit in the centre of the space. Despite the amount of room she had, she still felt like a dog in a cage. This was hardly what she'd signed up for when she'd let herself get caught. 

Grace listened intently to the loudspeaker as the names of the contestants...[i]contestants? This isn't a contest. You're prisoners, and this is a future murder scene.[/i] as the names of the prisoners were announced. But it wasn't names that mattered to her. It was the actions associated with them. Grace was judging them all; based upon their crimes. 

The very first name sent fury coursing through her veins. Kyler Mikal. She had heard of his case before she had even entered this [i]Colosseum[/i]. The bank heists were excusable. Money was one of the last things Grace cared about. The murder of his family...less so. Those were lives, and he had ended them. But the most inexcusable of his crimes was rape. That word was like a match, igniting the fire that was Grace's rage. If she came within a few feet of that man, he'd better pray to the God she didn't believe in. Listening to his height and weight, she realized that the fight between them would be evenly matched. He was only a few inches taller than her. He wasn't huge. She could take him down, make him pay for his crimes.

Not like the giant who was announced immediately after. Jarred Walston. Grace felt her eyes widen slightly when she heard his height and weight. He dwarfed her by well over a foot, and weighed three times as much as her. [i]Damn,[/i] was all she could think to herself. 

The rest of the names sank into her mind, imprinting themselves in her flawless memory. Ken Hall - his crimes the bloodiest she had ever heard of. Something was not right in his mind. His end would be a mercy killing. Sofia - a girl who reminded Grace somewhat of herself. Small, underestimated, with family issues galore. Her crimes were forgiven. Aleksey - the man clearly would know how to fight. Although she didn't like the thought of potentially going up against him, Grace knew he had to die. The woman he'd beaten, the prostitute, she had been innocent. A profession that lacked respect and virtue, but innocent nonetheless. Wilson Wredrun - for a moment, she was about to deem him as innocent for his crimes. Then the announcer mentioned him beating a woman. At that point, he was added to her hit list. And the last one, Aiden Kaiser - his murder joined Grace's list as well, but not as high a priority as the others. 

Rules were detailed, but Grace paid less attention to those. For now, they were being wheeled into a common area. Her and three of the other prisoners were released from their confinement units, placed in holding cells. She eyed them up, and felt them eying her at the same time. She saw the hemophile, the blood-lover, Ken. Glancing in the other direction, she saw Wilson looking at her - undoubtedly wondering how the hell a girl her size had ended up in this place. She returned his glance with an even stare, her dainty face devoid of expression. But their brief moment of eye contact ended quickly, and Grace turned to look at the last prisoner in the Southern cells. 

Kyler. Rapist. 

The unblinking stare she affixed him with would have been downright unsettling to the average person. The girl's expression was neutral as ever, but her eyes were filled with uncontrolled hatred. If looks could kill, Kyler would have been dead seven times over. The bars between them were the only thing that was stopping her from attempting to kill him with her bare hands. There would be time for that later. Had some of her parents' religious teachings sunk in when she was younger, she would have been praying to fight him right now. There was nothing Grace wanted more than to overpower him, as he had overpowered whichever poor girl had been so unfortunate as to be his victim. [i]I'd beat him down. Pin him on the ground and break his fingers. Make him apologize. A finger bone, one at at time, until he says he's sorry. Says it for the audience to hear, and maybe that girl is watching.[/i]

She shook her head, the motion barely perceptible, and forced herself to focus once more. Wilson was speaking. [b]"Jesus. This ain't a brawl. It's a goddamn snuff film, and me and him's the stars."[/b]

Grace turned her head, looking back over her shoulder at him. Her body remained turned towards Kyler. [b]"Jesus ain't listenin',"[/b] she told him, mocking his rough accent. She remained silent for a second, debating whether she wanted to continue speaking or not. She dropped the rough speech pattern, speaking in her normal quiet voice. [b]"Don't worry. I don't snuff easily."[/b]