Writers Games; Alliances

D7 Male - Miles Wilson - Task 6 [TeamQuirky]

Miles tore his eyes from the map he drawn with his friend and looked around.
He was in a small room filled with clutter. It was dimly lit by a lantern hanging from the ceiling. He took it from the hook. He looked back and carefully folded the map and put it in his pocket. He could not leave it here. He paused and set the Lantern down on the table as an envelope caught his eye. He opened it carefully, not knowing what may be hidden inside. To his surprise it was just paper. A photograph and a few letters. He gazed at the photograph. It was of the feast just before the games had started. Almost every one seemed to have a rather unflattering pose except for one person in the middle of the frame. Occisora Crudelis. He was not looking at the camera but it seemed as if she was aware of it. She looked younger and less cruel in the pink dress. The dress seemed to bring a bit of colour to her pale skin making her look more human. He tore of the section of the photo in which he and his friends were stuffing their faces and laughing and put it in the same pocket as the map. Then he held the photo in the lamp until it caught fire and burned to a stinking crisp. He turned his attention from the burned photo remains to the other papers that were in the envelope. Tears filled his eyes as he recognized a letter from his two best friends.

Mile!

How are you, mate?

The letter started in Rodney's confident scrawl. Miles had to blink away tears before he could continue to read.

That is a stupid question. We are very sorry you had to be part of these monstrous games.

He chuckled at Howey's slightly wobbly script. The letter must have been written the same way they used to write letters together. Leaning over one piece of paper pushing each other out of the way.

It's a bit weird though. You know how the Gamemakers are usually cruel and stuff? That Occisora woman seems really nice. She seems like she is just doing her job. Rodney doesn't trust her but She has been so good to us. She gave us all these nice things. A whole chest of canned foods and new clothes and things like that.

Like Howey said I don't trust her. I think she is fattening all of us up so she can have a nice steak when she slaughters us.

How right you are, Rodney, Miles thought.

We're doing okay, though. Sally and Missy are crying a lot but what do you expect. They miss the hell out of you and just want you to come home. Be careful, mate.

Miles, I really miss you and wish I could have talked to you one last time before you left.

We love you,

Howey, Rodney, Missy and Sally.

Howey's words at the end of the letter reminded him of what Occisora had said about him.

He put the letters away and looked around the room once more. His eyes fell on what looked like a body dangling from the ceiling. He wet his lips and with thumping heart went to take a closer look. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realised it was just a puppet. As he drew closer with the lamp he saw the puppet looked exactly like Occisora. He frowned at it before noticing what the Occisora Puppet held in its hand. It was another puppet that looked exactly like him. Above both puppets the words “Puppet Master” was written. Miles looked at it for a moment. It seemed to him that even though Occisora was the one pulling his strings she herself was also merely a puppet controlled by some one else.

With a knife he tried to cut the strings connecting puppet Miles to Occisora. He let out a yelp as he succeeded and his little puppet head rolled over the floor. The message was clear, be controlled or die.

When he threw the puppet into a corner a small silver box caught his attention. He picked it up and read the inscription on the top. Trust is such a fragile thing, it read in swoopy curly letters. Carefully Miles opened the lid. Shards of glass spilled out onto the floor. Careful not to step in the broken glass Miles replaced the box and walked father into the room. He thought a bout the message the box had been trying to send. The trust was broken. Or it would be soon.

Miles looked around in horror as the faint clicking of Occisora's heels reached his ears. He looked around trying to determine where the sound was coming from. The clicking became louder. Miles could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

The clicking became louder still. Yet, Miles thought, it did not come any closer. The sound increased until Miles had to press his hands over his ears.
He felt lost and trapped and scared to death. He sank to the ground, glass splinters pricking his thighs. He sat there rocking back and forth hands still pressed top his ears. Tears started streaming down his face. He wanted to go home and he wanted to go home now. He was sick and tired of Occisora's games but he knew she did not lose. No one in the games won. You survived or you died.