Contest of Champions

30

I catapult myself off of my podium, running as soon as my boots hit the ground. Magic becomes accessible as the mist's affects wear off, allowing me to summon two daggers that I keep concealed against my sleeves.

The arena holds its silence for a moment as the contenders launch off their podiums. Then suddenly, noise erupts all around me.

I hear screams of fear and shouts of excitement as I zero in on the closest pile of supplies. Skidding to a stop beside them, I see there's a knapsack here. A quick rummage through it shows it holds a bottle of water and dried fruit and meat. Snatching it up and flinging it over my shoulder, I look up to see Natasha streaking towards me, dressed in a sleek black bodysuit with blue reflective strips running down her sides and legs.

My mind begins to wonder how her stylist could even think adding those blue stripes would help their contender in any way, but I shut that thought down to make room for the all-important fact that I am about to be attacked.

Jackknifing to my feet, I flip my daggers out of their defensive stance and bring them up as she launches herself into the air, twin batons coming down towards me. Quickly, I roll out of the way, coming up off to the side and then throwing myself back at her, daggers raised for the kill.

Her baton comes down to deflect my blade and she pivots towards me as I slash at her with my secondary blade. Her other baton comes in low at my legs and I vault over it, stumbling slightly as I awkwardly land, my foot hitting a rock and leaving me slightly off balance.

Natasha presses her advantage and drops into a crouch, sweeping her leg out wide to knock me over. She catches me in the ankle and I go down, hurling myself away from her as I fall. I land in the grass, one hand planted in the ground, and use that to propel myself up and away, whipping my legs up underneath me and shooting to my feet. As she springs at me, batons twisted together to form a single staff, I stumble backwards, hurling one of my daggers in an attempt to slow her down.

The redhead just bats it to one side and lunges out with her staff. I duck and feel the rush of air against my head as I fling my last dagger.

Natasha manages to elude that one, but my third one, formed almost out of thin air, hits its mark.

The brief look of surprise that flits onto her face as the dagger lands in her leg makes the entire fight worth it. But that feeling quickly dissipates when an arrow plants itself in my shoulder.

I jerk back, thereby causing the follow up missile to miss me completely. Clint is standing about twenty feet behind Natasha, a third arrow now on the string of his bow.

Oh, how fantastic.

I realize retreat is now my most favorable option and begin to back up. But when Clint rapidly readjusts his aim to a target behind and to the left of me, his expression changing from concentration to one of shock, I find myself freeze in place.

That can't be good.

I spin, automatically shifting to the side in case Clint changes his mind about which contender he wants to shoot right now, and find the same shock wash over me that I had seen embodied in the archer's face.

Where Cletus Kasady stood maybe about a minute ago, there now stands a monster.

Towering about ten feet tall, with pulsing red, gooey flesh covering his body, veins apparent in the flesh, and with dark, sharp talons where his hands should be, Kasady is no longer...Kasady. The wide, almond-shaped eyes and mouth full of needle sharp, small fangs further reveal what has become of the serial killer.

He has a symbiote.

This isn't the first time a symbiote has popped up in the Contest of Champions. About twelve years ago, in the 24th Contest of Champions, Eddie Brock from District 10 had also been the host of the symbiote Venom, leading to the most-quoted phrase following that Contest: "We are Venom."

That Contest hadn't gone particularly well for the other contenders.

Oh, I'm off to a terrific start.

Clint fires at the symbiote but Kasady just roars and bounds forward. The arrow would have hit his chest but his abdomen separates, forming a hole for the arrow to go through before congealing again. I dive out of his path, rolling and coming up on my feet posed to flee. I don't care if fighting Kasady will please Odin, I am not breaking my promise to Gamora by facing off with a symbiote serial killer. My death for glory is not worth it. Not yet.

Helen is petrified, still standing on her podium. Her hands are covering her mouth and her wide eyes are fixed on Kasady.

Oh, she's not going to make it through today.

I spring forward, daggers in my hand as I charge forward. Kasady swipes at me but I hurl my weight backwards, sliding under his pointed claws and then propelling myself onto my feet and sprinting forward again. I leap into the air, landing on the edge of Helen's podium, and as she stumbles away from me, about to fall off, I thrust my dagger into her heart.

The shearing sound of the blade rending through flesh satisfies my ears as she topples off the platform, her eyes going blank. "Sentiment," I mutter, mainly for the audience.

Kasady is focusing his attention on the District 2 contenders, and I see Okoye and Killmonger racing towards them from the Gauntlet. It is time for me to make my swift exit.

Vaulting down from Helen's podium, knapsack firmly slung over my back, I streak towards the assembly of trees, daggers gripped tightly in both my hands.

Odin can't exactly complain – I have one kill to my name. Never mind that she was no match for me – you can't show compassion in the Contest. Sentiment will get you nowhere here.

Sentiment will get you nowhere anywhere.