I said. “But I guess a new eye was too much to pass up.”
“No, that’s not the reason,” Kenneth replied. “Well, not the only reason. He’s here for his daughter’s treatment. It’s such a sad story: she has this rare blood disease, and their insurance company refused to cover her expenses. His wife has been petitioning for aid, but the government isn’t budging. If Sledge doesn’t come up with some serious cash, she might not make it through the year.”
When Lewis spoke, his voice was etched with a gritty determination. He was the first competitor I’d seen who didn’t seem interested in money or fame – he had something much more powerful driving him. With a motivation like his, Lewis might be the most dangerous man in the competition.
Next, the name Darko Simić appeared on the big screen, alongside the Serbian flag. He was listed as being from Belgrade, but a question mark appeared beside his age.
“That’s weird, eh?” Kenneth remarked. “No age listed? What is this dude, a vampire or something?”
A narrow, middle-aged man emerged from the curtains, trudging across the stage as he adjusted a pair of wire-framed glasses. He was enveloped in an out-of-date suit that looked like a relic from a museum, complete with a bow tie and patent leather shoes. It immediately drew chuckles from the crowd. Although his fashion choices were odd, it was the man’s hair that struck me: a frizzy, greying mess that shot out in every direction, as if he’d been comically electrocuted by sticking his finger into a socket. If Albert Einstein was in his mid-forties and had done away with his moustache, Darko Simić is how I imagine he’d look.
The host stood back and observed the man’s outdated attire. “What do you call this look, mate: ‘mad scientist chic’? I know that fashion trends go in cycles, but are we really back to 1890?”
Darko brushed off the snide remark and proceeded to the edge of the stage. He confidently threw his hands apart and clapped them together, causing a loud electrical buzz. When he drew them apart, a solid beam of purple light extended between his palms, eliciting some ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ from the audience.
The Serbian smiled, apparently satisfied with the response, and moved his hands in small circles. The beam of light waved and bounced, dancing off his fingertips. When he felt it was time to conclude his demonstration, Darko clapped his hands back together, presumably to extinguish the beam – but to his surprise it persisted. In a panic Darko shook out his hands, causing the beam to twirl out of control. The sleeves of his suit ignited, and within seconds it travelled up his chest, engulfing his entire torso. He bellowed and staggered backwards, flailing wildly. Darko collided with the host, instantly causing Tate’s jacket to burst into flames.
The fire spread unnaturally fast, travelling across the stage and up the curtains. Within seconds it was scorching the bottom of the oversized screen, and the first several rows were scrambling towards the nearest exits in fear for their lives.
As firefighters quickly moved in to battle the blaze, a number of police officers arrived to escort us to safety. “Come on,” Kenneth urged me, pulling at my shoulder, “there’s nothing we can do to help here.”
I had only been in the dressing room area for a moment when my wrist-com beeped, signaling an incoming transmission.
When I touched the device, a hologram of my friends projected into the air. “What the hell was that , man? Are you all right?” Gavin was in a panic after witnessing the live simulcast.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I assured him, attempting to steady my trembling voice. My nerves were shaken, but I didn’t want to concern him any more than he already was. “I’m in the back, and I’m safe. The fire is already under control, and the producers are getting the crowd settled before we finish the event.”
“They’re still going to continue with the
“No, that’s not the reason,” Kenneth replied. “Well, not the only reason. He’s here for his daughter’s treatment. It’s such a sad story: she has this rare blood disease, and their insurance company refused to cover her expenses. His wife has been petitioning for aid, but the government isn’t budging. If Sledge doesn’t come up with some serious cash, she might not make it through the year.”
When Lewis spoke, his voice was etched with a gritty determination. He was the first competitor I’d seen who didn’t seem interested in money or fame – he had something much more powerful driving him. With a motivation like his, Lewis might be the most dangerous man in the competition.
Next, the name Darko Simić appeared on the big screen, alongside the Serbian flag. He was listed as being from Belgrade, but a question mark appeared beside his age.
“That’s weird, eh?” Kenneth remarked. “No age listed? What is this dude, a vampire or something?”
A narrow, middle-aged man emerged from the curtains, trudging across the stage as he adjusted a pair of wire-framed glasses. He was enveloped in an out-of-date suit that looked like a relic from a museum, complete with a bow tie and patent leather shoes. It immediately drew chuckles from the crowd. Although his fashion choices were odd, it was the man’s hair that struck me: a frizzy, greying mess that shot out in every direction, as if he’d been comically electrocuted by sticking his finger into a socket. If Albert Einstein was in his mid-forties and had done away with his moustache, Darko Simić is how I imagine he’d look.
The host stood back and observed the man’s outdated attire. “What do you call this look, mate: ‘mad scientist chic’? I know that fashion trends go in cycles, but are we really back to 1890?”
Darko brushed off the snide remark and proceeded to the edge of the stage. He confidently threw his hands apart and clapped them together, causing a loud electrical buzz. When he drew them apart, a solid beam of purple light extended between his palms, eliciting some ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ from the audience.
The Serbian smiled, apparently satisfied with the response, and moved his hands in small circles. The beam of light waved and bounced, dancing off his fingertips. When he felt it was time to conclude his demonstration, Darko clapped his hands back together, presumably to extinguish the beam – but to his surprise it persisted. In a panic Darko shook out his hands, causing the beam to twirl out of control. The sleeves of his suit ignited, and within seconds it travelled up his chest, engulfing his entire torso. He bellowed and staggered backwards, flailing wildly. Darko collided with the host, instantly causing Tate’s jacket to burst into flames.
The fire spread unnaturally fast, travelling across the stage and up the curtains. Within seconds it was scorching the bottom of the oversized screen, and the first several rows were scrambling towards the nearest exits in fear for their lives.
As firefighters quickly moved in to battle the blaze, a number of police officers arrived to escort us to safety. “Come on,” Kenneth urged me, pulling at my shoulder, “there’s nothing we can do to help here.”
I had only been in the dressing room area for a moment when my wrist-com beeped, signaling an incoming transmission.
When I touched the device, a hologram of my friends projected into the air. “What the hell was that , man? Are you all right?” Gavin was in a panic after witnessing the live simulcast.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I assured him, attempting to steady my trembling voice. My nerves were shaken, but I didn’t want to concern him any more than he already was. “I’m in the back, and I’m safe. The fire is already under control, and the producers are getting the crowd settled before we finish the event.”
“They’re still going to continue with the
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