Author Games Compilation [Cycle 1]

Task 1 - Aftermath (TB)

There was no telling what sickening thoughts grew roots and found residence in Terence's mind as he threw punch after punch at the defenseless boy before him. A grin grew on his face as the boy fell to his knees, arms covering his head. He trembled, dark bruises already formed on his exposed skin. You just made your situation worse, kid, he thought. With a grunt, he launched his foot into the boy's stomach, making him keel over in pain.

"P-Please..." the kid said. He held up a single hand in surrender, the other clutching at his stomach. "I won't volunteer, I swear, I swear...It's all yours."

Terence's lips turned up in a smug smirk. "That's what I like to hear." His arm shot out towards the boy. His fingers dug into the boys arm and tugged. When the boy was back on his feet, struggling to stand upright, Terence gave him a hard slap on the back. "Move along, pal, and if I find out you ratted on me for this, you'll have more than just a few bruises and broken ribs."

Terence whirled on his heels and marched away. His steps echoed through the alleyway, right along with the boy's useless whimpers. That beating better have done the trick. If that nitwit ends up volunteering, he'll be dead before he can make it up on stage.

With a cheery whistle, he exited the alley and slipped into the crowd bustling by. No one suspected he'd done anything. They never did. No one that had seen his actions or had fallen victim to his threats had the courage to simply say his name when asked who did any treacherous acts. For good reason, too. Terence was seen as a dangerous, feral being to those who knew what he'd done. Just how I like it.

A stranger passed by him and gave him a brief nod of the head. Terence tipped his hat in acknowledgement, and continued following the crowd. The streets were never this packed other than one day a year, and today was that day. Excitement bubbled in his stomach, and he picked up his pace times ten, nearly knocking an old woman over. Of course, he didn't mean it, but he did offer a short apology. She only waved him away. "Better hurry," she said, "You don't want to miss this."

It was no secret that Terence wanted to be sent into the Hunger Games. For years on end, small groups would pass by his yard and see him training with every fiber of his being, building up muscle until no more would develop, wielding weapons as if they were mere pencils he was juggling, running in endless circles as he huffed and puffed at the burn in his lungs.

And since he was eighteen, this was his last chance to be chosen. His last chance at glory, at insurmountable wealth, at fame. He would be seen as a valiant warrior when he came home. And if--no, when he was picked--he would win. There was no doubt in his mind he'd be picked. He'd done everything imaginable for assurance. From bribing Peacekeepers, to threatening the other Careers, there was no doubt in his mind that he would be sent into those dastardly games. Right where he belonged.

Just think, me with a glistening sword in hand, splitting skulls in half. Me, pulling a bowstring back and sending an arrow into someone's forehead. Me, swinging machetes left and right, slicing throats open, making fountains out of them all...

"Sir? Sir, we need your hand. Hello? Sir?"

Terence shook away his daydreams and gave the Peacekeeper his hand. They stuck his finger with a needle. He didn't even flinch, unlike the twelve year olds beside him. One of them was having a panic attack, hyperventilating and clutching their heart, struggling for breath. Terence rolled his eyes and walked away, more invested in walking to his designated sector.

His breath hitched in his throat. The Justice Building was right there, and although he'd seen it everyday of his life, it was always different on the day of the Reaping. Instead of an empty stage, there were chairs lining the back row, mentors and the mayor seated impatiently. Two giant fishbowls were on either side, filled to the brim with crisp slips of paper. At least half had his name on them, thanks to his oh-so-clever bribery.