The Fiction Games

Chapter Six - Secrets

Three minutes and the audience is a weapon. Perhaps deadlier than those that belong in the arena. Laughs, tears and applause determine whether one goes home, or one is massacred on live television. Once these people looked at the Hulk as a god instead of an untamed beast, Nick Fury discovered this secret.

"We don't have a tragic story, Cassius," Dr. Bruce Banner said, face flushed in the heavy spotlights. His counterpart nods in agreement. "But our home will if we don't return. We are not praised for our generosity, but still the foundations of our realm are held by us and our team. It's not about winning for us, it's about returning for the sake of our people."

"You are certainly praised here," the host confirmed. His stern expression melted into his casual smile. "Isn't that right?

The audience chants their names, roars vibrating through the backstage labyrinth. Hermione's nose turned pinker than her dress. "Look at them, Harry. He can control his...transformation, much like Lupin could. I wonder if he only changes under a full moon."

"Don't think about it," Harry ordered, almost laughing, focusing on anything but the screen. Telling Hermione not to think was like instructing Umbridge to stop wearing pink. 

Dr. Bruce Banner and Black Widow bowed respectfully. Cassius started warming up the audience for the next two tributes. Hermione burst.

"Harry! Think about where you are! There's the slightest chance we can acquire a wand in the arena. Besides the sword of Gryffindor, we have no prior knowledge of any use of artillery. The people we are facing have at least years of experience. How can we take the risk of no alliances?"

Harry saw his best friend drowning in her own hysterics. In less than an hour, they will be in front of thousands of people. "Hermione, please, we don't know our competition. Training is all it is, training. In that arena, they can betray us at any moment, unleashing something we have never expected. Allies only can go so far, so its best we go alone."

"I know you're right," she said, mostly talking to herself. "I just want to stay alive."

 On stage, spotlights had to be dimmed for District Forks. Both as pale as milk, they glittered in artificial light like diamonds, and the crowd was transfixed. Cassius squinted just to look at them.

"A very nice touch, I do say so," he said impressively, "was it your designer's choice?"

Captain Jack Sparrow has never been this clean in his life. Skin grated to shine several layers lighter, hygiene presentable for Cassius and the first rows of people to withstand, even the dirt under his nails stripped and manicured. His hair, however, was so matted together his designers threatened to shave it off. Jack was lucky to keep it without strangling them. 

Elizabeth gasped, clutching her squeezed ribs. Jack grimaced, "Hopefully you don't fall into the crowd, Miss Turner. I won't be able to dive in and rescue you."

"Not likely," the pain in her voice made Jack wince. "This couple is using our strategy."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "We had a strategy?"

"Don't play games, Jack," Elizabeth warned.

Holding hands, Bella and Edward drove the crowd on a sympathy overdose. Cassius sniffled, "My best wishes for you and your wife, Edward. From District Forks, Bella and Edward Cullen!" The crowd sobbed while putting their hands together for the fourth district. With every cheer, Rick felt sweat run down his neck. Three down. Five more until he and Michonne are on.

"Nervous?" asked Michonne. Rick was flabbergasted to see Michonne in a dress, especially without her blood-stained katana strapped to her back. 

He shook his head.