I’m at an international wrestling tournament in a country that’s not on any map

I don’t really use Reddit like this, but I need to put this somewhere because something about this feels really weird and nobody else on my team is saying anything. My name is Malcolm, Im a senior, 190, varsity starter, and we flew out for an international tournament somewhere in Georgia. It was supposed to be a straight flight, but halfway through the pilot said we had to reroute because of weather. We landed at this airport that wasn’t on our itinerary, and first I didn’t think much of it, just figured it was a layover. But when we got off the plane, the main sign in the airport said “Adzhar International”. I tried looking it up right away but literally nothing came up. Not even like “did you mean…” or anything. Just nothing.

At first I thought maybe my phone just didn’t have service, but everything else loads fine. I can text, I can open apps, I can even scroll here. Its just anything about this place doesnt exist, but it does, im literally here. I asked one of the airport workers what country we were in and he just said “Adzhar” like that answered it. I asked again, like what country is that in, and he kinda paused for a second before saying “this one.” I thought it was maybe a language thing, but everyone here speaks english. Coach told us to grab our bags and stop wandering.

We got on a bus outside of the airport and thats when things started feeling actually wrong. There weren’t any signs on the roads, no flags, nothing that even said where we were. Just long stretches of buildings that all kind of look the same. I tried using maps and it shows the road were on, no country name at the top though. One of my teammates asked how far the hotel was, and the driver said “not long,” but we’ve been driving for what feels like at least an hour and the view hasn’t changed once. Same buildings, same streetlights, even the same advertisement keeps coming up, every few minutes actually. It was an ad for the tournament. I pointed it out to my buddy and joked, “Communists am I right, No originality,” The driver shot me a mean glance. “Too loud, I guess” I whispered over the arm rest. I’m gonna sleep the rest of this bus ride, Ill update when we get to the hotel.

We finally got to the hotel and it looks normal from the outside, like any cheap place you’d stay for a tournament. The lobby is completely empty except for one guy at the front desk, and he already had the room keys laid out before we even walked in. He didn’t ask for names or anything, just handed them out one by one and got every single one right. My room is on the third floor, and when I got in everything looked clean, but it didn’t feel used, if that makes sense. I tried turning on the TV just to hear something normal and it only shows one channel, It was just wrestling matches on repeat. Same two guys, same match, over and over. I watched for a minute and I swear the score changed halfway through, but the moves didn’t.

I went downstairs to find food, I was already 188 and could afford a few bites. A couple of my teammates were already there, but nobody was really talking. The guy at the front desk was still there, same position, like a metal pole, bolted to the ground, went straight up his ass and all the way through his throat, holding him still. I asked him if there was anywhere nearby to eat and he said “the dining room is open,” but I hadn’t seen one when we walked in. He pointed down a hallway I swear wasn’t there before. I didn’t say anything, just went with it. The hallway opens to a big room with tables already set. The weird part is the food was already on plates. Not like a buffet or anything, the food was still warm. I sat down and one of my teammates goes “This is the same thing as yesterday.” “Weight cuts getting to him” I joked. He stared bullets at me. 

I didn’t feel the need to respond to that stare. I just looked down at the plate and tried to figure out if I was actually hungry or just eating because I’m supposed to. It was chicken, rice, and some weird round bread with black sauce draped over it. I asked my teammate about what he meant earlier, about yesterday, he just shook his head and said “you’ll feel it after your match.” I asked what match, and he just looked at me like I was messing with him and goes “your second one.” I haven’t wrestled yet. We literally just got here.

I went back up to my room after that and tried to just lay down for a bit, clear my head. I figured maybe I was just tired from the flight or cutting weight. But when I sat on my bed I noticed my singlet was laid out on the chair next to it. I don’t even remember unpacking it. I didn’t even open my bag. I checked anyway and everything was folded like it had already been taken out and put back. My headgear too, straps already adjusted how I wear them. My body felt exhausted, my shoulders were sore, my hands felt tight, like how I feel after a match.

I ended up just laying down anyway. I didn’t even mean to fall asleep, I was just staring at the ceiling, then I blinked. Thats what it felt like. Just a blink. Next thing I know, my alarm goes off and the lighting in the room brightened. I grabbed my phone and it said 7:00, like a full night had passed, but my body didn’t feel like I slept at all. I checked outside and the parking lot was already full, same bus as yesterday idling out front. When I stepped into the hallway, a couple of my teammates were already walking out. Nobody said anything about the sleep thing. Nobody looked tired either. Coach was downstairs waiting, and the second he saw me he just said, “you’re up second, be ready.”

The bus ride felt shorter this time. Or maybe I just stopped paying attention. Nobody was talking, just sitting there with that blank, contemplating look every wrestler has before an important match. When we pulled up, the gym looked normal at first. It was a big building, banners outside, people walking in. But once we got off the bus and tracked across the freezing parking lot, I noticed. There were no school names on anything. Just weights and numbers, and the weirdest part, the weights were in something called KG. Inside it was loud, matches were already going, whistles, crowd noises, everything you’d expect. Coach handed me a wristband and told me to warm up, so I went to the side mats and started moving around, drilling shots, trying to get my body warm. My body still felt exhausted though, like I’d already been through a match. My legs were heavy, shoulders tight. One of the refs walked past me and said, “Stay ready. You missed your first already.”

They called my weight not long after that. Didn’t say my name, just the number, but coach looked at me and nodded like that was my cue. I walked over and the ref just pointed me onto the mat. He didn’t check my name like normal, just pointed me onto the mat. I caught a glimpse of my opponent while he was warming up, he looked fresh. He moved like sliding oil, didn’t get his hips all the way back on sprawls though, that’s my opening. Coach called out “You can tech this guy, don’t go for the pin.” The ref had us shake hands and the match was underway.

I took a shot early, clean double, got in deep then I knew it, I had him. I could pin him, but I knew to follow the coaches orders. I let him up, 3-0. I kept scoring on him though. Even with all that, I was getting to my stuff. Single leg, finish, three. Snap, spin behind, three. He wasn’t even defending bad, it just felt like I’d already done it before so I knew exactly where to go. The score kept going up and I heard someone on the side say “he’s about to tech,” so I pushed it. But when I shot in he dropped his level, my head smashed straight into his, causing a gash right above his right eyebrow. Injury time, he got bandaged up and came back out onto the mat. The ref waved us on, he shot out a heavy lead collar tie and whispered something to me in Georgian. I shot under the collar tie and got another double leg. I looked up at the ref when I hit 15, waiting for the whistle. Nothing. We were still going. I backed up a little and said “That’s it, right?” He just looked at me and shook his head so hard the bandage fell off. I peered down at the bandage and he shot in. I got caught off guard and taken down, I turned over, built to my base, stood up. His blood was in my eye. “Injury time, Injury time!” I called. Then he shot in again. I sprawled just in time and spun. Broke him down, got back mount, bicycle grip on his wrists, and twisted as hard as I could. Slipped my hand under his armpit and turned him into the pin. When he called the match I was livid, seething in anger. 

I walked off the mat pissed. Not even tired after such a hard match, just angry. I went straight to coach and said “I teched him, why didn’t they stop it?” He just looked at me for a second like he didn’t understand the question. “You finished it.” Like that was the point. Coach came over and started talking to me about what I could have done better, Like I lost a position or something, not like the whole match made no sense. I tried explaining it but he just nodded like hed heard it all before. Now, don’t get it twisted, he didn’t agree with me, just like he expected me to say it.

I went to check the bracket after. My name was advanced, but there was a score next to it that didn’t match anything that just happened. It said I won 6-4. No pin, or tech. I asked one of the kids next to me if he had seen my match and he said in broken English “yea brother, close one,” and walked away. It wasn’t close. Not even a little.

Coach tapped my shoulder and said, “Stay ready. You’ve got one more.”

I didn’t even bother saying anything back to coach. I just nodded like everyone else and walked off toward the side mats. My hands were still shaking. I tried to focus, get a normal warmup in, but every time I hit a shot it felt delayed. I went back to the board after a minute and just stood there staring at it. My name was still there, same 6-4 score, but now the match under it was filled in. Same weight, same round.

I thought maybe it was a mistake, like they had double entered something, so I looked closer. It wasn’t just my name. It was me versus the same kid I just wrestled. I turned around to find him, and he was already walking toward the mat. He wasn’t sweating, as a matter of fact his cut seemed to have disappeared. The ref saw me standing there and blew the whistle, then pointed at me like I was late. “Youre up,” he said. Like I hadn’t just finished.

I walked back out there. Didn’t even think about it. I was pissed enough that I didn’t care anymore. We shook hands again and it felt exactly the same. Whistle blew and I went straight at him. We tied up and I snapped him down hard, went behind, then he popped back up. I got to a body lock and lifted, trying to end it quick this time. He felt lighter than he should’ve, like there was no resistance at all, I tilted him and brought him down, thats where it went wrong. I heard a loud crack, he hit the mat and didn’t move, then went limp. The ref didn’t jump in right away, he just kind of watched, then slowly walked over and tapped the mat like it was a normal pin. I let go and stepped back, waiting for someone to say something, blow it dead, do anything.

Nobody did.

The kid laid there. No one rushed over, his coach stayed seated in his chair. It was like nothing unusual had happened at all. The ref raised my hand and pointed me off the matt. I walked back toward the bench and my chest felt tight. I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting them to stop the whole tournament or call something, but the next match had already started on the same mat.

I stepped out the side doors without saying anything to anyone. I just needed air. It was cold out there. The parking lot was mostly quiet, my bus still idling, the same gray buildings in the distance. I leaned over with my hands on my knees trying to slow my breathing down, but it wouldn’t settle. I kept seeing it over and over, the way he went limp, the way nobody reacted. Two guys in plain clothing came out the same doors I did. Carrying that kid between them like he weighed nothing. They didn’t say a word to each other. They walked straight past me and over to a black escalade parked near the curb. The car had no plates, one of them opened the back and they just… put him in. They weren’t being careful, just laid him in there like he was gear.

I stood there for a while after that. Nobody came out looking for him. Nobody came out looking for me either.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.

I’m sitting back on the bus typing this and nobody’s talking about what just happened. I tried looking up “Adzhar” again and it still doesn’t exist. I even tried translating it and my phone doesn’t recognize it as anything. Has anyone ever heard of this place? Or something like this? Because I’m starting to think we’re not supposed to leave.