The Government Game

CHAPTER FIVE

The pompadour-haired Vlad Brennan was rushing towards a village he spotted on his map. He decided the best bet in order to win would be to stock up on supplies. And, after all the research he'd done of previous games (through illegally obtained documents), he knew that the shops in each Arena each year were stocked to the brim for the contestants that needed to stock up. A very similar train of thought as Peter Anson, but he was none-the-wiser to that. The AR-15 was getting to be quite difficult to carry, so he decided to rest a while.

 He settled in between two roots of a gigantic tree. Here, he pulled out one of his water bottles and sipped it slowly. He'd probably find more water at a shop in the village he was heading towards.

Then he heard the rustling of leaves somewhere left of him. He snapped his head to that direction, grabbing the grip of the AR-15. He screwed the cap back onto the bottle's opening, and picked up the gun. He made sure the safety was off, had his finger off the trigger, and picked up his daypack with the machete in it, along with the other Government-issued supplies.

 He trod lightly towards the rustling sound, and then he saw it: A girl was running towards God knew where. He screamed, in a militaristic fashion: 'Halt!'

She turned her head, fear in her wide eyes. Her eyebrows were arched well and she had thick, black hair. Her skin was olive-coloured. She was obviously startled, and was clearly no volunteer. This girl, Jemma Lake was her name, began to sprint. This was when Vlad took action and ran after her.

 'Hey! Wait!' he cried.

She looked over her shoulder as she ran, but that was a fatal mistake. She tripped over a tree root, and then Vlad caught up to her.

'Why would you run from me?' he inquired, pointing the end of the barrel of the AR-15 at her. She remained silent, so Vlad added, 'What's your name?'

'J-Jemma ... Jemma Lake ...'

 'Okay. Jemma, get up.' When she merely stared at him, dumbfounded, he shouted: 'Now!'

 She stood slowly, hugging herself as if she were cold.

'Can you let me go? I didn't ask for this!'

'No. Instead, you're going to strip for me.'

I'm such a pervert, Vlad thought to himself with a smirk on his face.

She shook her head. 'No!' She decided to keep her last bit of dignity, even in her potential final moments. She legged it once again.

 But, instead of taking chase, Vlad merely fired at her multiple times, and she collapsed face-first into the dirt. Dust swirled in the sunlight. He walked over to her and grabbed her hair with his fist, proceeding to slam it into a tree trunk. 'That's - what - you - get - for - not listening - to me!' he said, anger boiling over the pot of his mind. With each pause, he slammed her head into the tree.

She was begging now, wanting to be freed. The bullets had fired through her back, flying out through her chest. She was coughing up blood and bleeding to death rapidly.

 'What a fuckin waste.' He spat on her, then trod on her face with his boot. She was a bloodied-up mess by this point.

'We coulda teamed up, y'know? Sure, I woulda shot you in the back once we were the final contestants, but it doesn't matter.'

He aimed his AR-15 at her face, and shot her point-blank. Her face exploded and blood sprayed everywhere, even on Vlad's clothes and face. She was definitely dead.

 Vlad decided to rummage through her daypack. He pulled out her item: a wooden stick. A fucking wooden stick. What a cruddy weapon. At least he had his baby: the Colt AR-15. The machete was useless in a gunfight, but up close it could do a lot of damage.

The game was on by now, for sure. He had two kills under his belt.

I'm going to make it to the finals. Easily.

He had left her daypack and 'weapon' behind.

He felt his wrist vibrate, then remembered the Game watch on it. He had received a notification on the little LCD screen.

ALL CONTESTANTS ARE NOW OUT IN THE ARENA. FIGHT TO WIN!

He was going to fight to win, alright.

Now, he could make it to the village if he hurried.