(S1, EP:8) The Ultimate Showdown 2

The Aftermath

The hooded figure leaned back in a rickety old wooden chair as he processed the day's events. Johnny Gat was not an easy target to acquire. Of course, that meant that re-capturing him was even more of a challenge.

Still, the job had been done, and there were even some hidden surprises along the way.

The hooded figure pulled out a black tablet. It was the same one that he had broken in a fit of unbridled rage after the failure of his first attempt at the game. Now, it had somehow been repaired by one of his own tributes: the Imposter. Maybe these creatures had some use after all.

While it had only been a year since the first of the games commenced, it felt like an eternity. Kidnapping heroes, villains, humans, demons, gods, monsters, and all other forms of being had taken its toll on the hooded man's sanity. However, those feelings all went away once the games began. Seeing dozens of tributes all struggling to survive the strange land while battling against each other in bloody brawls to the death was something that very few people enjoyed more than the man who had brought them all there.

Despite this, he noticed a lack of satisfaction lately. What was once a fun way to pass the time while also filling up his daily work quota had slowly but surely become just another mundane chore that had to be completed.

It was when these foreign feelings of dissatisfaction had reached their peak that he finally found the answer. On his tablet, there was a strange button flashing in the upper-right hand corner. For some reason, he couldn't quite remember what it did.

With no other way to pass the time, the curious figure clicked the button.

Suddenly, the bookshelf where he kept his forbidden books disappeared. In its place was a large doorway that led out into a corridor.

The hooded figure, filled with curiosity, strolled into the dark hallway. Most people would not be able to see anything in this place, but he could see everything clear as day.

There were twelve metal doors lining the walls. Each of them had large numbers crudely written on them in blood.

"25-48"

Everything immediately came to a halt. The man's eyes widened in disbelief beneath his hood. His heart began to race with excitement. How could he have forgotten!?

What lay before him was a series of abandoned holding cells that he had created. Each of them was supposed to hold a different tribute and raise them up into the Cornucopia once the games began.

Giddy with anticipation, the hooded figure ran back into his study. Amid the cluttered papers on his desk was a list of 8 names with 16 blank spaces beneath.

He ripped a fresh piece of paper out of his notebook and began to hastily scribble.

There, he made 24 more blank spaces.

Hundreds of ideas raced through his head. So many possibilities. After all, twice the tributes meant twice the trouble.

He grinned wildly, revealing rows of bloody fangs.

His new plan was now in effect.