Writers Games; Alliances

D4 Female - Amabel Trython - Task 3 [AwesoMEbeing_]

They seemed to have come from thin air, surrounding us and immediately taking hold of each one of us.

Men clad in white armor dragged us off, separating us. I tried to fight against the ones dragging me, squirming—writhing—as hard as I can. What were Peacekeepers doing here, anyway?

They dragged me inside a room and dumped inside, closing the door behind me. I quickly tried to go after them, but when I turned around, the door was gone, like it dissolved.

I tried pushing against the wall, waiting for it to budge under the force, but it didn't. I was locked inside.

I waited for a few moments for something to happen—anything—but there was nothing. Left with no choice, I pressed my back against the wall and inspected the room for the first time.

What caught my attention first was the picture hanging on the wall. One with me, Myrtle, and her parents in it. We were happy. I felt my heart drop. I wish I never let them go. I wish I never volunteered. Then everything wouldn't have to be like this.

I ran my fingers through the picture, before recovering from my sadness and seeing a table below the picture, where there was a glass of water and a small knife resting on top of it.

I took the knife and quickly gulped down the water, putting it back on the table half-empty.

With nothing left to do, I walked towards a wall and leaned back on it, crossing my arms and inspecting the knife I got.

Someone suddenly entered the room, her long, strawberry-blonde hair swaying behind her. It wasn't long before I recognized it as Occisora, wearing a sweet, mocking smile on her pale face. I tightened my grip on the small knife, immediately feeling threatened the instant she entered the room. She could have others with her, or she could kill me right here and now.

"Oh, don't worry, honey. I won't be killing you," she said, like she just heard my thoughts. Her smile then scrunched into a distasteful-looking scowl. "Not yet, at least."

Then her face brightened again, her smile returning. "Feel free to have some refreshments! They're free. Have them while you're still here!"

I didn't move from my spot, which made her sigh. "Oh well. It's your choice. I was very hopeful that we could get to—"

"Cut out the small talk. Tell me why you're here," I said. Her eyes widened, probably surprised by the sharp edge in my voice. I must say that I, myself, was surprised too. It sounded like it came from a different person.

She amusedly smiled at me. "Well, that's something new. I've been watching you in the arena, Miss Trython, and, I must say, I am disappointed. You showed so much promise."

She paused to sigh, and my eyes wavered between her and the picture frame on the wall. So did she think I actually had a chance at . . . winning?

"You are much weaker than I thought. You are just a little girl. I wonder what Myrtle would say if she saw."

My heart ached at the sound of her name.

"She must be so very angry. Not only did you volunteer to be part of the Games, but you are also going to die. How disappointing. I think you'd better go. I don't want to look at you anymore."

I tightened my grip on my knife once again. I told myself that I won't let anyone scrutinize me like this again. Come on, just a quick stab on her chest, or a neat slice on her neck. It'll be an easy kill, Amabel. Everything will change, just do it.

I slowly raised the knife to aim at her, my hand shaking. I'll be killing. But this is the Games. It's natural.

I brought down the knife to her chest, but stopped right when the tip was about to touch her skin. I bit my lip so hard that I started to taste blood.

Her body relaxed, and she smiled. "I was right here in the open, waiting for you to kill me, yet you couldn't. You couldn't kill the one responsible for everything that's happening, and will happen, in the Games. Just like I said, you are weak."

I sighed, dropping the knife to the ground and falling down on the ground as well, my knees folded across my chest.

"This is where we say goodbye, Miss Trython," she continued after a short pause. I watched her walk towards the same door she entered through earlier. Before walking out, she looked back at me. "Oh, and one more thing, I wanna see more of that fierce attitude you showed while talking earlier. It impressed me, but I'm not saying I'm fully impressed."

I rolled my eyes. She laughed—a high-pitched laugh—and I fought the urge to cover my ears or to throw the knife at her. Then she waved her hand at me and disappeared as she closed the door behind her.

As soon as the door closed, I heard another one clicking open behind me. I turned around to see that it led to a weaponry room.

I stood up, took a moment to regain my senses, before walking inside.

The walls were lined with swords, bows, spears, and other variations of weapons with length, while in the middle of the room was a long metal table, filled with knives, daggers, machetes, and more small weapons lined side-by-side.

There was a small note on the corner of the table. I picked it up and read that I could get to pick three weapons of my choice.

I immediately went to get two daggers, smiling pleasingly to myself at my choice when I realized that I need to get one more weapon. I wasn't really good at weapons other than daggers, so I picked one closest to it; a knife.

I nodded after inspecting my weapons of choice. Then I felt a small sting on my neck, and I felt myself falling down to the ground. Then everything went black.