[ WP ] In the near future , the most popular form of entertainment is the live coverage of actual war battles via drones .

`` The DroneBowl, brought to you by BudLight!'' The announcer exclaims. A banner flashes across the screen with a stadium of cheering fans in the background. I'm busy in the locker room gearing up when my buddy Smith turns to me with a nervous look on his face. 
 
 `` Hey Adam, I feel like I'm gon na puke.'' He says. 
 
 `` No reason to worry man, we've been training hard for this.'' I respond with a shaky voice. 
 
 Times have changed. War used to be fought in numbers. Invasions of foreign lands and the destruction of resources was the norm. Not anymore. Militaries no longer exist. If a dispute between nations needs to be settled, they call in their most elite. Much like the gladiators, death is a form of entertainment. While the rest of the nation sits in their homes and watches via drone footage, a select number of warriors is called upon to do the government's dirty work. I'm one of those warriors. 
 
 `` Listen man, we're gon na destroy them. The Iranians have n't been to a DroneBowl in 5 years. After it's all over, we can take our $ 25 million contracts and party in Dubai.'' I try to comfort Smith, but the truth is, I feel like puking too. 
 
 `` One minute until the battle begins!'' The announcer on the TV shouts. 
 
 I lock and load my weapon and kiss a picture of my family goodbye. I often wonder if all this death is worth the power. The pain and suffering for a few to get rich. It's better than it used to be, but I guess there really is no perfect system. I'm currently the leader in my squad of nine American soldiers. As an undefeated team, I have little worries. They stack up behind me at a giant metal gate. I hear someone puke, probably Smith. 
 
 `` Alright boys, let's give'em hell!'' I scream as the gate begins to open. 
 
 We move out of the gate and into formation. The playing field resembles a city block. Fans are guarded by bulletproof glass to avoid any injuries. Drones circle above to give the viewers at home a perspective of the fight. When you hit the arena, it's not about the money, the power, or the fans. It's about the guys next to you and praying that they make it home. 
 
 I sprint to the side of a building. I give a few hand signals to my guys to get into position. I shift my focus down the street and see a figure poking his head out. In one swift motion I pull my weapon up and squeeze the trigger. 
 
 `` There goes Adam with the first kill of the match! A headshot like that will award him his 485th kill!'' I hear the announcer echo in the background. 
 
 Killing does n't bother me anymore. I've done it enough times to stop caring. I signal my guys to move forward when suddenly automatic fire pierces the air. Bullets scream past my head so I dart down an alleyway. I frantically look around, none of my team is in sight. A violent exchange of gunfire seems to go on for eternity. I hear screams in the distance. Explosion after explosion hits near my position. I shift my eyes back towards the street to see scattered bodies parts. 
 
 The announcer comes over the speaker again, `` Smith for the Americans has just been eliminated by an Iranian RPG! Many others wounded!'' 
 
 I begin to panic. I pretend the announcement was just a hallucination. The enemy seems better trained than I thought. I should've known to not underestimate them. Another explosion, way too close this time. I get slammed to the ground and everything goes silent, only a ringing in my ears. I attempt to stand up but my body is numb. I see the twisted metallic remains of my weapon too far away to reach. My eyes scan the street again. A teammate, both legs missing, tries crawling towards me with a tormented look on his face. Figures dressed in black appear behind him, executing him on the spot. I ca n't move, terror overwhelms my body. I regain my hearing just in time to hear the words I never thought I'd hear. 
 
 `` Adam appears to be the only surviving American soldier! This does n't look good for his fans!'' The announcer's voice seems to echo into infinity. 
 
 The black figures see me and move in closer. They're speaking a language I ca n't understand, but they sound joyous. Instead of ending me on the spot they drag me into the street. Drones circle in close to capture my imminent demise. One man starts addressing the drones, giving some sort of a victory speech. Another comes in closer wielding a large machete. This one speaks English, I'm assuming he's their leader. 
 
 `` Any last words?'' He states in a cocky manner. 
 
 I say nothing, only smile. He seems confused, he has no idea what was coming his way. I finally get to use the weapon I never thought I would need. I manage to reach to my side and pull the charger on my suicide vest. Before they knew what was happening, I obliterated the city block with a force that could be heard for miles. Evaporating every last soldier on the playing field. 
 
 The announcer comes over the speaker, `` What a turn of events! Hope you enjoyed the show! Join us next time for the DroneBowl!'' 
 
 

