Bleachers Novels & Stories

Laney gave Emery a quick hug then rushed back over to her dance team. Emery walked over to the section of the bleachers that was in back of where Laney and the girls usually took their place. She sat about five rows up from the front and looked out across the field. The team wasn’t out there yet, but there were several people out there getting all the ice water coolers ready. The stands were starting to fill and most were seated off to the side where the cheerleaders were. Mostly, it was the parents and older people who came to the games that sat behind the dance and band. That was okay, she wouldn’t have to listen to bullshit stories about her and Austin.

His spiked club slammed into my hellblade with a deafening clang. The impact tore the weapon from my grip, sending it spinning through the air before it clattered uselessly against the stone below. “No!” I cried. Taurus planted his hooves into the ground and stomped with brutal force. “Hellish Stomp!” he roared, laughing as the arena shook beneath us. The ground cracked violently, the rocks trembling like they were about to collapse. I struggled to stay upright, my knees buckling as the stone beneath my feet split apart from the tremors.

“Either the library or the bleachers by the soccer field, the ones farthest from the back entrance.” The library has cameras in and around the entrance and hallway, but the camera’s on the outside of the building don’t reach those bleachers, which is the exact reason they are so popular for kids to go and smoke up or have sex, though during lunch some of the soccer students use the field so it’s usually empty. Harken hangs up and grabs his bike helmet again. “Where are you going now? What’s going on?” Scott calls after him as he rushes out the door.

The home-side bleachers were a sea of white and blue, a pulsating mass of excitement and nervous energy. We found Ben and Maya halfway up, already armed with giant foam fingers and bags of popcorn. Ben was vibrating with pre-game adrenaline, while Maya looked characteristically unimpressed, surveying the crowd like a hawk. Ben’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head the second he saw me. “Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He pointed a trembling finger at my chest. “Is that… is that what I think it is?” Maya’s head swiveled, her sharp eyes taking in the number 6. A slow, wicked grin spread across her face. “Well, well. Where did you get that, Elliot? Rob his locker?”

It’s organized chaos. When I finally get to an opening where I can see, my stomach drops and my heart stops. It’s an arena, but it’s unlike anything we’ve seen before. They are building it with steal and concrete instead of wood. As I watch, I see what can only be a cage being swung into a hole in the ground by a crane. The bars on the cage are much larger than the ones we had in our arena. They are shiny and new, and I can only imagine how they have reinforced them to ensure that the shifter trapped inside can’t escape or be rescued.

Quincy The yard is electric. Even from the bench, I feel the air pulsing with each bounce of the ball on the concrete floor, with every sneaker gritting and every shout that echoes off the walls. Rows of inmates and guards fill the bleachers, their voices colliding into a single roar. It’s so loud I can’t hear myself think, which is a relief. For the first time since yesterday’s blood on the concrete, people are leaning forward, laughing, and living. Pretending they’re just fans.