Imaginary friends. They're cute, cuddly, and friendly, right? They're also loyal, obedient, and follow at their master's heel – providing, of course, that the master still believes in them. Once the cute little five-year-olds they once knew decide to deny their existence, these friends will disappear, never to be heard from again.
That's basically the definition of an imaginary friend, right?
Well.
Not really.
The actual cause of the phenomenon isn't known; however, the uproar and controversy of the event was immediate and eruptive. The impossible had been achieved: imaginary friends… well, weren't imaginary anymore. They were becoming real, materialized to the world; and the children were positively elated over that. Finally, their long-dreamed-of puppies or princess companions were visible and tangible; finally, they could properly interact with them, and play with them to their hearts' content.
Well, suffice to say that the older kids were envious – and, with barely concealed eagerness, they started creating "imaginary" friends of their own. The difference?
These creatures weren't innocent or pure. They were filled with the corruption of greed, of desire, to fulfill the wants of their owners. These friends – the teenagers (for, for some reason, no one above the age of nineteen could create such creatures) renamed them Mirages – were often made for one task or another; and often, several were made, each to handle a different task. In a way, these Mirages were slaves to their owners, and the only release they had from them was when they dissipated on the morn of their owners' twentieth birthdays, never to be heard from again.
And those were the easier cases for the police to handle. Soon, though, all hell broke loose, as the first violent Mirage was borne into the world.
It was utter mayhem: the Mirage seemed to stampede into the world, rather than quietly materialize as was customary; then, heeding its master's directions, started to wreak havoc on the city that it had been made in. The monster – for that was what it truly was – tore down houses and left them in tattered ruins, robbing as it did so valuable things: precious jewelry, money, and even tiny solid gold ornaments. A few people were killed in its rampage, and others besides were injured.
Then, the organized crime rate flew up and above even the most open-minded person's imagination. And the criminals? All teenagers – or rather, their Mirages, which did the dirty work for them. And, with the police being unable to produce an effective means of taking out the Mirages (albeit all-out bombing, which would kill innocent citizens), there was nearly no resistance to these crimes. Even those teenagers who tried to turn the tide away from committing these ugly deeds were soon overwhelmed and pushed back like insignificant gnats. Gangs started popping up; they battled each other for supremacy, pitting their Mirages against one another in bloody battles – and, almost always, to the death.
One day, in the midst of the bloodthirsty turmoil, an idea was hatched.
And implemented.
Somewhere in the middle of nowhere, a patch of land was claimed, and construction started immediately. The building of the giant, round stadium captured the interest of people around the world, and for once, there was a lull in the crime rate, even if it was an insignificant drop. Though public media kept trying to pry open the purpose of the building, none of the builders allowed for even the tiniest leak of information, and neither did the architects. Only when the construction was over, and a small village to the side added, did anyone previously not privy to the plans find out what it was for:
A Mirage fighting tournament.
Teams of Mirage owners – or, as the hosts of the tournament called them, "Masters" – would battle each other to claw their way up to the top; and as a result of winning, a coveted prize would be doled out to the individuals of the winning team: one million dollars each.
Suffice to say that the Masters of the existing Mirages became rather excited – who wouldn't be, with such a sweet prize at the end of the road? Giddy with excitement, the gangs that currently existed took their Mirages to uninhabited spaces, wide enough for rough training, and commenced preparations for the upcoming competition; and those Masters who did not belong to any particular gang went to seek one, if only to have at least a slim chance at grabbing the winning prize for themselves.
Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Mirage Menagerie Tournament.
