Flares | Johanna Mason

VI. Dead Man Walking

Ethan

He needed to keep running. He knew he had to keep running. He couldn't fight them all, he all ready tried that and it resulted in a massive gash across his abdomen. Blood soaked through Ethan's clothes and leaked onto the forest floor, giving his attackers a clear path to follow to finish the job.

No weapons were available to him. Not his knives, not even the one he knew he had strapped to his calf a few moments before. Not his axe, which was buried deep into one of his attacker's chest. However, they had shrugged it off like it was a flea bite and continued to come after him.

The Reaper, the bringer of death and destruction having to run. Ethan had to silently chuckle at that.

He couldn't run for long, his injuries had seen to that and his attackers knew it. They weren't sprinting after him, they were patiently waiting for him to either bleed out or to slow down. The Reaper's speciality being used against him.

The crunch of leaves told Ethan that his attackers weren't that far behind him. He couldn't risk looking over his shoulder, he couldn't do anything that might slow him down. Pain continued to shoot through him, he didn't have long left to live. No chance of escape and no chance of fighting back. Nothing that Johanna could send him would help. The cut was too deep for the healing salve to have any effect and weapons didn't seem to affect his attackers.

There was nine people chasing him, all looking for opportunity to be the one who kills the Reaper. Well, he wasn't sure they were actually human, their bodies looked like they were made from shadows, everything about them from their head to feet was onyx black, like a mist that hung over them.

Pain once again overwhelmed his body as he fell forward onto the forest floor. Ethan looked for the cause of it and saw an arrow, made of the same black shadows of his attackers, sticking out of the back of his left knee, severely limiting that legs movement and his capability to keep moving.

It was funny when he thought about it. He grew up around forests, surrounded by trees. A forest was home to him. It should have been his hunting ground, picking off those who didn't know how to use it to their advantage. Instead, it was to be his grave.

His attackers had caught up with him by then, surrounding him in a circle and watching as the Reaper's gaze flicked to each one of them. They knew he was trying to find something he could use, whether it was a weakness he could find or a weapon he would be able to steal without too much resistance so he could extend his life for just a few more seconds.

Ethan got a closer look at the shadow people and realised who they were. Nine shadow people, nine dead by his hand.

The district partners from Nine that he poisoned.

The girl from District Four that he had slit the throat of.

The District One boy that he had kicked into the forcefield.

The boy from District Twelve that he had caved in the ribcage of with his axe and his district partner who he had tied to a tree while she was asleep and proceeded to use as target practice with his throwing knives.

Everyone that he had killed, back for revenge. The Reaper's comeuppance.

The circle slightly parted to reveal two new shadow people walking towards him. Ethan knew one of them straight away. It was him, the boy he was before the games. All that optimism and life that he posessed that he had to kill to become the Reaper to be able to survive the horrible reality of the Hunger Games. The boy that had been replaced by the cynicism, anger and regret that now consumed him.

The second one, he didn't know until they were standing over him. He should have known that she would turn up.

"Hello, brother."