Not a single person looked at me with empathy. I stood in front of everyone, contemplating what to say as my final appeal.

I am innocent. But the glares of the spectators from the gallery and those in the jury box whose votes I have to win made me petrified. And those I considered friends, averted their gaze when I looked at them with begging eyes.

I am innocent. These words I kept repeating in my head as I try to find the right ones to say. My legs won't stop shaking. The room has air-conditioning units in each of its corners, yet the cold sweat won't stop from pouring. How long have I been standing? There's this unknown pain in my chest, the loud and fast beating of my heart must've been to blame. I have to say something.

"I know it appears that I did it. But, with all of my being... I did not kill him."

Words that came out of my mouth fell on deaf ears. My statements were worth nothing in front of a series of hard evidence pointing towards me. In the process of the trial, even I questioned my innocence.

Still, "I am innocent", or if not, have I gone insane?

The Judge asked me to go back to my seat. Beside me seats a tall handsome blond man who sat in a great posture. Attorney Logan Clarke was the only person in the room who believed in me.

The jury began their deliberation. I sat facing on the ground holding my head with both of my hands. My legs are still shaking, only this time it's more chaotic. My chest feels like it's about to burst. Nauseous, I feel sick all over my body. I might die without even hearing the jury's decision.

Half an hour passed and the jury already has their decision.

"Your Honor, the members of this Jury find the defendant guilty..."

After hearing the word guilty, buzzing noises began in my ears, leaving me incapable of hearing everything afterward. I stared at the ground dozing off. My lawyer touched me on the shoulder and shook me to gain back my senses.

"Mr. Riego, are you listening?"

I didn't answer. The Judge who was in the middle of reading my sentence asked me if I was paying enough attention and heard what he said. As I still didn't respond. The Judge didn't bother and just continued the sentence.

"....we therefore unanimously recommend the sentence of death should be imposed upon Grayson Lazaro Riego."

I already knew what my sentence would be as soon as I was found guilty. The court continued with their proceeding as I sat there with my head on the clouds. My entire body decided to shut itself down.

Logan kept tapping me on my shoulder since I was not responding for quite a while.

"It was a hard fight, seems like the Jury already has a unanimous vote even before deliberating."

I looked at him, "I didn't kill anyone."

Tears began falling from my eyes. Logan patted my back trying to comfort me the best he can.

"I know."

Before the trial, I told Logan everything that I know about my case, even the slightest detail he wants to know about. How I woke up inside the mayor's office with a knife in my hand. The police arrived at the exact time I woke up. And the mayor lying on the ground with multiple stab wounds from the same knife.

What's more suspicious is the absence of a security camera in his office. Nowadays, security cameras are capable of identifying a person and would notify someone authorized if they detected anyone not listed in its database. Some even install firearms near it. I once installed huge rifles for some businessman. Though, having worked for a security company before was also used against me.

As Logan finished sorting his files. He gave me a sorrowful smile and asked me if he could escort me out of the courtroom. I agreed, I felt as weak as a person who just had surgery so I could not reject his offer.

I could run, but they could easily stun me with the taser on the cuffs they made me wear.

Soon as I leave the courtroom, the sunlight that came from the setting sun hit my face. Could've been a beautiful day, is what I thought.

Two police officers wearing full-body metal armor and helmet were waiting for me.

"I wish you good luck, Mr. Grayson. May we see each other again."

Logan's sincere words gave me a pinch of hope. His sorrowful smile was enough for my tears to fall again.

"Thank you."

These were the last words I told him before going inside the police car. I looked out the tinted window which is made of transparent metal and saw Logan standing there looking at the car for about a minute before going on his way home.

The police car doesn't have a driver's seat. It is voice automated and is run by artificial intelligence. One of the police officers leaned forward and gave the car its command.

"Set location to California state prison."

He said those words under his helmet and it made him sound like a robot. Hearing the word "prison" made my whole body shiver.

The car started moving towards its destination. How can I accept this? I was a diligent worker. Believed that all life in this world matters. Will I last in a place filled with people who put their humanity aside?

October 25th, 2066. The day I steeled myself and promised to somehow survive and still become who I am till the end.

I spent five days in the state prison thinking about what will happen to me in the future. There's no way I could get such thoughts out of my head. Is there a chance for me to survive? Against real killers and those psychopaths, I am just another prey to hunt.

Days passed by with me in a daze, the day of transporting death row convicts in the US arrived. It was always the thirtieth of October. All death row convicts and some others are gathered in the international airport of Washington.

An aircraft big enough to accommodate everyone awaits at the airport. It rests on its own designated runway.

I shivered every time I passed by one of the convicts' gaze. Most of them looked at me as an easy target so I tried my hardest not to look at anyone's eyes.

We were lined up about a meter apart from each other and there was a cop beside each of us pointing their gun and was instructed to shoot at the slightest sign of struggle.

I counted around two hundred people, not including the ones behind me. Though I was urged to look behind, I was as stiff as a rock with the gun pointing at my head. In front of the plane was some sort of a booth that hands out something.

"Next!"

It was my turn. A cop made me wear a collar and the personnel at the booth gave me a pair of earpieces. As I walked towards the plane another cop standing at the bottom of the stairs stopped me from entering the plane.

"Do anything unnecessary and that collar will kill you."

I cursed. Well, only in my head. What he said was frightening enough, add the fact that he sounded like a robot under that helmet of his.

The flight was great. I was seated beside a young-looking guy. He has curly black hair, a slender body, and pale skin. At a second glance, I would've mistaken him for a woman. Also, he always has a smile on his face that made me uneasy for some reason.

"You look like a priest."

I was startled by the sudden conversation the guy started and didn't know how to respond.

"Huh?"

The guy sitting beside me tilted his head not removing his unsettling smile.

"I mean, how did you end up on death row?"

I paused. His question made me remember everything that I have been through in the past few days.

"I was framed... for murder."

The guy sitting beside me then faced forward and had a serious face all of a sudden, well it only lasted a few seconds before returning to the weird smile he has.

"Hmm. I see, I'm Toby Woods by the way."

"...Grayson...Grayson Riego."

"Nice to meet you, Grayson. Now I'm not sure how long you'll survive. Anyway, good luck."

Toby's words appeared as a threat. But maybe I was judging him too quickly just because I felt weirded out by his demeanor.

"Good luck to you as well, Toby."

After our brief conversation, not a single word is said.

So, how would a death row convict survive? Well, the punishment of death is far more brutal.

A Virtual Reality death game where death row convicts around the world participate as players with the prize of their freedom and a new life. Though there are occasions where other convicts who have life in prison or other long sentences participate in these games to try their luck. I call these people suicidal.

New face through surgery, a new name, and identity, a place to live, a story background, and files that support it as well as having your memories altered. These are all included in the rewards.

Though winning ensures that you'll get out of prison and get all the rewards, a brain chip will be inserted into the winners as a security protocol for society. The chip will track the winner's location. They will be observed and possibly killed on the spot if they disobey the law.

But not a single winner from the previous death games was said to be killed. Maybe, I just didn't know.

People used to loathe this punishment, but after a few years, it became just like the Roman Colosseum.

The games are always held in December and become the symbol of good luck for the upcoming year.

I think it was because of that reason that they called these cruel punishments "hopeful". The minority who were against it shouted how it is a clear violation of human rights and just a homicide committed by those in power.

And so, as if to mock those against and humor those in favor, after the second year, they decided to finally give it the name, Hopeful Homicide. It is now in its ninth year. And I am forced to participate in this year's brutal death game.