WITH APOLOGIES TO DODD, AMATO, REEVES, AND MORGAN

[RetroVenus]

“It is on this day that we solemnly remember the lives of all the children taken at the hands of terrorists”...and blah, blah, blah.

Truth be told, Adam cared little about SOTF Remembrance Day. It was topical, sure. Buncha high school kids get kidnapped by terrorists, dumped on some deserted island, told to kill each other until only one remains. Gruesome shit. Gruesome shit that’s happened seven times. Maybe more, if those conspiracy fucks over on Reddit have any proof.

So he did what any good American would do and watched the third anniversary on the news that morning. The closest location SOTF happened was someplace in New York, so that’s where the local news focused on. Home of the very first SOTF, and also the only one without any survivors (seriously, how unlucky do you have to be to get your ass thrown in twice?).

He watched all the little ceremonies they did, watched them ring a bell 1095 times, list off 1095 names, before heading back to his room. As he left, a news anchor began interviewing the relatives of some kid named Adam Dodd. My poor son, sharing the name of one of the victims his mother must be thinking. He must be so affected by this.

Did any of this affect him? Fuck no. He remembered how his junior year went, how everyone was fretting over the lives of the seniors all throughout the year. Those terrorists seem to strike every three years, and since the last year it happened was 2018, well, shit, looks like seniors are back on the menu. It only got worse as the school year came to a close.

Dumbasses. The terrorists only kidnap kids during senior trips, and JEM doesn’t do that anymore (took only seven fucking times of this shit to occur before they implemented that, but whatever). But, like, what if the terrorists switched tactics and kidnapped kids during winter trips, you might ask. That shit didn’t occur either; everyone came back groggy but safe. Same with every other fucking school in the country. No broadcasts, no nothing.

Still.

Adam glanced back at the closed bedroom door, listened to the muffled sound of the television, then spun his chair back to his desk. The mentioning of the name Adam piqued his curiosity more than he would like, so he started an internet scavenger hunt to scratch that unwanted itch. No videos, of course – he wasn’t a fucking psycho – and no photos. He didn’t want to attach a name to a face. But he did want names. Information.

After wading through bullshit Reddit threads for what felt like hours (dude there was a version of SOTF where they were given superpowers!!), he found that there were four Adams in total. Adam Dodd in the first iteration, Adam Amato in the second, Adam Reeves in the third, and Adam Morgan in the fifth. Most were unremarkable, except for the first.

Adam Dodd won. Out of 123 students thrown onto an island, through all the blood and gore, only Adam Dodd remained standing. Sure, he fucked it up by getting tossed in again and getting his ass killed, but there was something special about sharing a name with the original winner.

He also killed 12 people.

Adam – this Adam, Adam Lader – closed his laptop with a sigh. He felt slimy. Questions kept popping up in his head that he didn’t dare answer.

It’s here that he notices his left leg bouncing in a violent manner, so he opens his laptop again. Close all the tabs, clear the history of said tabs, move on with your life. Let those idiots keep arguing about SOTF in their echo chamber, let someone else clean up the mess. He’ll go watch something on YouTube, and SOTF will be far from his mind.

But one question still lingered: Is he proud to share a name?