"Are you familiar with the word, 'Gladiator', Joe?", Max asked me one time as we hiked up a mountain together for the first time.

"Warriors captured, sold to slavery, and used for sports against each other?", I replied in a questioning tone as I struggled to keep up.

"Bingo. My daddy was always interested in them and their ferocious will to survive. One thing about a gladiator is that defeat was the same as death, and even if the defeated begs to be spared, its up to the hosts to decide the outcome. You live, or you die".

"And may I ask why you are telling me this?".

Max lifted up a heavy sigh and replied while pulling himself up higher, "It was on one fateful mission, a very bloody one at that. We managed to breach the enemies' defenses and laid waste on them, only to discover that it was a set up. The main forces arrived and overwhelmed us by a large margin. We were lucky they possessed no explosives, but the pressure was at its worst. We however stood our ground and fought until it was only me and the enemy leader left alive".

"You were able kill so many even though outnumbered?!", I asked in bewilderment, "What kind of soldiers were they?".

"Men who were ready to take as many enemies as they could to hell. They were fine men I say, best of the very best".

"What about the enemy leader?".

"You would have wished to see his reaction at the capabilities of my men. We exchanged words, then engaged in a fierce battle. I underestimated his strength and was beaten back. Before he could kill me with a stake, I remembered that tomorrow was Ana's birthday, meaning that if I died now, her birthday would be a remembrance of my death instead of a celebration of another year of her life. I knew that I couldn't die there now, and that the only solution was simple. Survive!

"So with that in mind, I grabbed the stake with both hands as he drove it straight for my chest. While I struggled to prevent him from killing me, I kicked his left leg with my right, making him to fall to his left knee. I wrestled the stake off his hands and use it to hit his face. We both got back to our feet, but I was still in control. I beat the crap out of him before plunging the stake straight through his chest. He died almost immediately, and I was the only man left standing in that bloody battlefield".

"You really are a tough one to kill, but I respect your zeal to live in order to not leave Ana behind".

"It's the same reason as to why gladiators fight, Joe. They fight to survive, to live another day, to hope that someday their hard work won't be for nothing. If there's one thing I learned from them is this: What is your reason to survive?".

***

The memories faded away as someone kicked me repeatedly to wake up. I opened my eyes and saw myself instead a truck, bounded hands, and feet to chains. Other men sat there with me as well, all in the same condition. We were twelve in numbers, with six sitting down on either side of the truck. It was a bumpy ride, one that shook the truck violently as it rode. The driver and his colleague swore heavily as they drove on, indicating that the road was really bad. I didn't see the sunlight, so I thought it was already nighttime.

"Hey you", growled the man who woke me up. His orange hair was wild, and he wore tattered clothes, "The hell are you doing looking all over the place. Do you know where we are?".

"Was about to ask the same question", I replied.

"The Underworld. We're about to enter a living hell".

"What do you mean?".

"Hell are you new here? We're about to enter a place called, 'The Den of Men', where we'll meet Boss Jack, a rotten f**k who monopolize food and resources and feed them to his favorites. He sends out hunters who capture innocent people and makes them kill each other for sport".

"That's inhumane. Why would he do such a thing".

"He's the devil incarnate I tell ya. Bloody wish someone could chop his head off and end that fat f**k once and for all".

The truck suddenly pulled over. On seeing this, the man added, "Guess we're all done for, aren't we? We'll probably see each other in the afterlife".

The backdoors were opened, and light pierced our eyes. We were ordered to step and march in a single file. As we marched, I looked round and saw that we were in an underground town, with a palace-like building at the center, rich and beautiful houses surrounding the former, while rest were for the poor. I saw the poor having some who were sick on the streets, some who had so little to feed on and others running up and down with stolen food while being hotly pursues by the owners. It was true when they say, "The strong oppresses the weak", but the cruelty that these people were suffering was just so wrong.

As we were approaching the central building. There seemed to be a banquet going on, were the rich danced to their heart's content and ate as much as they wanted. This got me enraged. People were dying out in the streets, and many more to the zombies, and yet they had the luxury to enjoy and pride about it, which got me more irritated by the minute.

We suddenly became the center of attention as we made our way towards Boss Jack, who sat on his throne while being fed with strawberries by one of his five women who entered him. Pot-bellied would have been the best word to describe to him instead of being fat, although he had problems sitting upright as we approached him.

The male hunter who led us to him bowed his head slightly and said, "Boss, I've brought more men to satisfy you".

"Well I can see that", replied Boss Jack while scratching his chin, "They finally look like men and not bones".

The rich laughed, while the hunter ignored them and asked, "The pay?".

"Sure, sure. Tell your lady friend to come over and take it".

The hunter motioned to his colleague, the same who kidnapped me, to collect the rewards. She obeyed and walked forward to receive the reward. Another of the women round Boss Jack presented her with three cartons of packed food, all canned. She checked them to make sure they weren't opened nor expired and returned with them back to the male hunter. He nodded his head and said to Boss Jack, "They're all yours".

Another man who held an AK-47 motioned us to get moving into our cells, and while were leaving, I looked back and saw the gaze on the female hunter who paid special attention towards me.

"We're all doomed", said the orange-haired man who was right behind me, "They're gonna play with us to their hearts' content".

"What do you mean?", I asked with looking at him.

He lowered his voice a little bit before continuing, "I was in this shithole for weeks. Managed to escape but got my ass hunted down nonstop. The fighting will never end. They'll make you fight until the day you are killed in battle. The hell here is no different than the zombies above. We're going to make our first debut tomorrow and they are going to make us fight until there's only one survivor. That is, tomorrow's event, 'Survivor of the Damned' ".

Another man holding the same weapon growled at the orange-haired to keep his mouth shut. We continued walking until we entered what looked like a prison. There were men who were not only well built but had scars to testify of their stay in this place. Others were either mortally wounded or too weak in comparison, and it was obvious that their days were numbered.

We were thrown into our individual cells and guards. Lots of men were welcoming the new intakes with noise, telling them that anything related to their former lives was now in the gutter and buried in the past. Amidst all these, I sat at the corner of the cellar and began thinking about how to escape, because I knew that if I didn't escape here soon, everyone in this underground town would be zombie food.

***

Light penetrated my cell, waking me up from my sleep. I knew not the time, so I had drifted off to sleep after finding no ideas on how to escape. I looked up to see the guard who had led us to our cells.

"Get up", he ordered and then spat on my face, "You've got a visitor".

I cleaned off his spit and got to my feet. He opened the cell and pointed his gun at me. I obeyed and stepped out of the cell. He guided me to a room while following me behind my back with his rifle at hand. I was still chained, so running was futile. Inside the room was nothing but a table with two chairs on opposite sides and a bulb with weak light on the ceiling. Sitting on one of the chairs was the female hunter, still wearing her mask and sat as one wanting a conversation. I was forced to seat on the opposite chair by the guard.

"Ten minutes", said the guard to the female hunter, "And I'm taking him back to his cell".

He left immediately, leaving us alone in the room.

"What is your reason to survive?", she began with this question.

"What is your reason to sell off others so as to save your own skin?", I retorted back.

She paused for a bit, "You've grown so much different from your father, Joe Benson".

Puzzled, I immediately questioned her, "Who are you? How do you know my name?".

She looked straight at me and removed her mask. She was an old woman at her fifties, defying her old age and was still as strong as her youth. However, her face was full of tears channeling down from her eyes and dripping down from her chin.

"My name is Lucy Jether, and I am your mother".