Author Games Compilation [Cycle 1]

Task 7 - The Tyrant (RQ)

Reed really should've been paying attention to the water pooling around his feet, but instead he was far more concerned with the foreign face smirking at him from a hole in the wall. He dared a few steps forward, if only to make sure his eyes weren't tricking him. There it was, a face paler than himself, who'd been roaming the underground for about a week. It was a pudgy face that belonged to a boy that could be no older than fourteen. Black hair sliced across his forehead, ending just above his brows, which were shielded by a pair of thick frames. His glasses are broken. Maybe I should tell him. Reed bit his lip. Unless he's dead.

The green eyes blinked in the darkness, proving him wrong. Startled, Reed hopped back, instinctively reaching for the bow resting on his shoulder. In seconds there was an arrow sitting pretty against the drawstring, which Reed held back tightly, stretching it back as the silence did the same. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice flying forth with the authority of a grown man, not a mere peasant child such as himself. I sure hope it's not a troll waiting for me to pay up a toll to cross his "bridge." Trolls are nasty little things, smelly, too.

Reed held the string back, but it took every bit of will he had not to send an arrow flying straight into the "troll's" throat, for the thing chuckled, a disgusting, wet laugh. Then, one chubby finger after the next, it reached it's hand out of the hole, gripping the edges. They slammed against the rock in a plod of moisture, but in the darkness Reed was left to wonder what coated the boy's hands. Please don't be blood, please don't be a cannibal, cannibals are not nice. Reed inhaled and exhaled as slowly as he could. As strange as it was, it settled his stomach, which was starting to bubble in a disgusted turmoil. I think this entire experience has made me vegan forever.

The hole seemed to darken as the face left its sheet of shadows, slowly pulling itself forward, into the little light the cave allowed. Bile rising, Reed swallowed, increasing the pace at which his lungs slaved away inside. So many wet, mushy sounds came from the opening as whatever sat inside wriggled around in attempts to find the easiest way out. When an entire hand was visible, out came an arm, smacking the wall around it blindly. Another drowned chuckle, and a low voice offered a few scratchy words, "How don't you know who I am?" 

Reed took a few steps back as the other arm emerged. "Stay back! Or I'll let this arrow go, I promise I will!" He ground his foot into the floor, keeping himself from running. Soldiers don't run. Soldiers stand and fight.

"I don't doubt it, kid, trust me, I'd do the same if I saw something as scrawny and obnoxious as you crawling out of a hole in the wall." A head popped right out of the opening, and to say Reed was scared would've been an understatement. With a holler, he released the arrow, waiting for it to pierce the twisted face of the boy before him. Oh my god, it's so ugly! It really is a troll, it really is a cannibal!

But what really sent him into a frenzy - one he didn't show, but bottled up - was the way the boy only shrugged off the arrow sticking out of his hand. His eased it out of his palm and tossed it to the ground, slick with blood. With a grin, he lifted a finger to his mouth, flicking his tongue out to lick up the crimson that stained his skin. When he'd finished with that, he slumped over the side of the hole, staring up at Reed with a look that said, "Really?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Reed snapped. He was quick to reach back for another arrow, but waited to set it in place.

The boy only rolled his eyes. "No reason. I'm just disappointed at how lame this show has been so far. So little death, not brutal enough. Six of you idiots left, and I've yet to see intestines strung out over the arena like party decorations."

Reed was too dumbstruck to come up with a reply. Who the hell is this kid? He's not even supposed to be here.

He stared on in a confused stupor as the boy lugged himself the rest of the way out of the wall. His feet were bare, and squelched when they touched the ground. Reed risked a glance at the kid's toes: they were layered in a deep shade of red. He pretended it was something different than what initially appeared in his mind, the shredded body of some other tribute, a heart in his hand as he squeezed it all out onto the ground... Shut up brain, it's just paint.