Writers Games; Alliances

D4 Female - Amabel Trython - Task 4 [AwesoMEbeing_]

My eyes fluttered open to the sight of the late afternoon sky. It was quite a strange sight since I don't remember what happened before I got here. I'm certain I wasn't here until now.

With my head still a bit foggy and my chest strangely itchy, I tried to sit up, but something tugged at my wrist. I looked down to see that I was handcuffed . . . to someone else's wrist. Another tribute.

He was still asleep—or unconscious—I wasn't sure. His long, shaggy white hair made it clear to me that he was Jasper Flint, the guy from Eight. I didn't interact much with him back in the Training Center, so I only knew little of him.

I looked around the area and realized that there were also other tributes with us, some asleep, some not. They were also handcuffed in pairs. I wonder what all of this is for?

From the corner of my eye, I saw Jasper move. I looked at him and saw him starting to sit up too, rubbing his head. His brows furrowed after he looked around us, but then they returned back to normal. He sighed and shrugged. "Must be another trick of the Gamemakers."

He looked so laid-back, like he didn't have any intention of killing me. Heck, I don't even know if he knows I'm sitting next to him and handcuffed with him.

Suddenly, I heard a familiar overly-cheerful-sounding voice that seemed to come from everywhere, saying, "Hello, my dears!"

"I'm sure a few, if not all of you, are surprised to see me," the voice continued. I felt Jasper tap me by the shoulder. He was pointing at something behind the two of us, which I realized was Occisora.

She was on a balcony, so it was impossible for anyone to go up and attack her. Except if they had a long-ranged weapon, of course.

"A new day, a new challenge. I'm sure you have noticed you are handcuffed  to another. Maybe you have noticed an itch in your chest . . . —" Yeah, I did. "—Perhaps you have taken a look under your shirt and seen the stitches." Stitches?!

I hurried to stretch out the collar of my shirt to take a peek inside it, and sure enough, there was a big scar on my chest. Near my heart.

"You witches!" I yelled, following it with some more incoherent words that would pretty much make Myrtle and her parents unhappy. I heard some other tributes join in too, but we didn't faze Occisora's aura. We just seemed to amuse her more, as her smile widened.

"Well, I will get to that later. Through those doors is a forest in which you will have to survive until noon tomorrow—" She paused to look down at me with an irritated look on her face since I kept yelling things at her even when she was talking. But still, she continued, "—At noon tomorrow, you will gather at the flag for the next part of the games. I you do not get there within the hour . . . well, no need to worry about that now. It might be a little bit difficult to find shelter and water and to fight while handcuffed to one another." Well, duh.

"If you wished to be unlinked, the key is within your reach—" she paused, then continued, "—You each have a key. I said I would get back to the stitches in your chest and now I will. The key is in your chest. Or rather, your partner's chest." What. "It is buried near their heart. If you want to open the cuffs, all you need to do is cut the key out of them."

"That's messed up!" I yelled, my anger rising. Why didn't I feel like this towards that woman when I had the chance to kill her?!

Occisora smirked. "Everything's messed up now, sweetie. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

With that, she disappeared out of our sights, leaving us with nothing but anger, confusion, and anxiety.

I know this isn't the worst thing that happened in the Games, but hey, who cares? What's happening right now is the important thing. They probably forgot about the past games bmfor a while.

I hesitantly looked at Jasper while I tightened my grip on my knife, knowing that I have to live with the horror of cutting his chest open and fishing for the key inside.

Preparing myself to do what was needed to be done, I saw him sigh and raise his palms in the air, making a knife—which he probably was holding—drop beside him. "It's okay. Just . . . do it."

I hesitated, bringing my knife back down. "Are . . . Are you sure?"

He huffed and, from beneath his hair that was almost coverig his eyes, I saw him roll his eyes. "Of course I am. When was the last time I wasn't sure of what I was doing?"

I stood still in my spot, not really knowing what to say or to do next. Around us, other tributes were already looking for the key inside their partner's chests, which looked absolutely sick.

I took a hesitant step forward and raised my knife up to level my eyes while pointed at his chest. I was almost going to do it, but then he moved. He moved quickly before I could even blink or register what happened.

He stabbed me in the chest. But not with his knife, no. He must've had a dagger tucked hidden behind his pants and used it.

Not really having any choice left, I did the same to him, already slicing it down in the same direction as his scar before he could do the same to me.

He screamed in agony, and that was enough for him to let go of the dagger. I pulled it out of my chest to avoid getting it bumped—or worse, using it to cut my chest open too—by Jasper.

But pulling it out only seemed to make it worse. First, blood was seeping out at an abnormal rate. Second, it hurt like hell.

Still, I knelt down before a curled-up Jasper and stretched his chest open, not really minding the gore anymore because of the pain on my own chest.

Finally, my fingers curled around something metal, and I unpatiently pulled it out, leaving Jasper screaming more louder, but more strained. He really should stop screaming. It'll just make him worse.

I quickly stood up, and headed for the doors Occisora pointed. The key was a perfect fit, and I couldn't ask for any better.

I smiled as I realized that I already did my first kill—Jasper Flint, the guy from Eight. I hope I'm impressing you right now, Occisora.