Only the Strong (Yandere Prince x Powerful! Reader): remake

3. Hunger Pains

Good gracious somebody please get a girl some water... I am literally dying.

Make sure to keep hydrated peoples.

 
"Good day to all! As you all may know, I am Vernon Ale—renowned musician and playwright. Not to brag, I've been granted the honor of commentator and announcer for the once in a lifetime Chosing!" The voice echoed in your chamber. Though he said he was renowned, as in well known, you had no idea who he was. You hoped that you could survive so that you may experience one of his works. "The rules of this arena are simple! Knock them out of the circle, knock them unconscious, or knock them dead, right?" You could hear the muffled cheers of the crowd. And Vernon, the announcer, just chuckled—probably not grasping that horror of the situation.

You understood their lack of contrition towards the event though. To them, to the people cheering and the stand, this was just entertainment. It happened every hundred or more years, so it was truly a once in a lifetime tradition and you were sure that the citizens of your country were just trying to enjoy something that they'll never live long enough to see again. They did not feel the fear, nor the pain, or the guilt that you and your competitors were going to endure. All they saw was a show. And truthfully, you were jealous, but there was nothing you could really do about that now. "In our first set," the noise came to a halt, everyone listening in anticipation. "our warriors are, district 17 and district 8!"

________________

It was hours of listening to the crowd roar, hours of screams of agony and the cracking of bones. You could hear your fellow warriors begging for mercy and crying. You were sure one of the women broke as you would hear the most awful, blood curdling, sounds of ripping flesh; which would be followed by maniacal laughter or some sort of hysteria. She sounded like she was on her deathbed, spiraling into insanity before suddenly, it all went quiet.

And after a few short moments, the crowd became electrified and lively.

Finally, after about five hours it was finally the last set—presumably, your set. Somehow, the horrid sounds that had seeped into your waiting room didn't sway you in anyway. Maybe your training had left you desensitized. From what you could hear, every woman had some fancy intro and some elaborate persona they were presenting themselves as. They would maintain that façade until they began to lose.

Then, they'd change.

Maybe being entertaining was protocol, but you were starving. You didn't have time to be a showman, you didn't want to make the same mistake as the others. It was their theatrics that lead to their deaths, you were sure of it. You were going to make things quick so that one, your opponent won't have any time to get the jump on you and two, so you could eat.

It's on now. Win or die.

"Our ninth and final set—" Your heart began to beat uncontrollably. Your could feel your pulse on your fingertips, feel the pressure in your chest. "Our warriors are district 13 and district 5!"

The platform you were standing on began to rise. The cheering of the crowd got louder and louder. You rose into a tunnel, the end of it brightened by the sun. The light almost blinded you when you finally got to the end. The sky was so blue, so calming. You turned to see that the tunnel behind you was gone.

There were thousands of people in the stands, screaming and yelling things you couldn't understand.

You walked to the center of the arena. There were no clouds in the sky, there was nothing to block the view from the gods. You had to prove many people wrong today.