Author Games: Dacnomania Nexus Accourt

Quarter-Final - The Face in the Dark - Males

District One - Laurent Bloom

Just this morning, I cursed the Gamemakers and their useless gift for me. Night vision is no twist when the closest you get to darkness is a yellowish hue in the sky. They gave Tommy super-strength and Thorny super-speed, but me? I was left was nothing.

But as I awoke, the world of green flared before me. As I blinked, my eyesight grew stronger until I could make out every grain of dust in the distance. Bellona was long gone, using her gift to her advantage the second I pulled out my spear. It would have been a shame to kill her, really. 

A bright light shone in the distance, connected to something I couldn't quite make out. Brushing the dirt from my suit, I began to run, using as much stealth as I could muster. The light was connected to something; it had to be. 

Fatigue slowly came over me, and I slowed my pace to a walk. I panted, looking around for any bit of water I could find. Defeated, I continued to walk towards the house until something caught my eye; bright white shudders and a blue door.

Without meaning to, I burst into a run. "Dad?" I called instinctively. By now, I knew it was a trick. But I could use something. Anything.

I swung open the door, bending to pick up the scrap of paper that had been hastily taped to the door. The handwriting was firm and neat, as if it was done by someone strict and important.

Dearest Laurent,

Inside your house, you will find that we have installed a screen. Your task is to turn it on. There will be quite a show, with the interviews and such, but there is something else. During these interviews, we asked someone to record a message especially for you! And they might not be who you expect. 

Best wishes, A.W.

"Good try, Alithia, but I don't have anyone else." I muttered, but the curiosity stung like a bee. I stepped over an empty liquor bottle, careful to avoid any rips to the suit. Always avoid useless injuries, my father used to tell me. 

Instead of letting nostalgia fill my brain, I stride towards the living room. Always look on obvious places, my father always said that. Like when I was nine and he hid my favorite toy in the hamper, just to see if I would find it. Looking back on it, a hamper was not a very logical place to put a toy.

"Laurent?" I heard the voice before I saw the face. The bouncy brown curls that would flow down her back. The bright blue eyes that I had inherited. She looked better than the last time I had seen her. The bruises had faded and she had gained just a tad of weight. 

I swallowed the tears in the back of my throat. "Mom?" I whispered, putting my hand to the screen. The picture fizzled out, and I retracted my hand. She appeared again.

"I have been watching you, baby. You have grown so big. You must have been working hard for these Games. You deserve to win." She was nervous. Even I could feel it, and it had been ten years since I had seen her. Ten years ago, she wouldn't mentioned the Games without dissolving into tears. Useless, she would say. 

"You must be wondering how these Capitol people found me. Ever since the Reapings, when the they designed the Arena in Thirteen, they found out about us. They took all of us away." She took a shaky breath. 

The artificial background behind her was a dying plant and a greenish wall. "They said we would be okay though, as long as you win. They won't hurt us." She wiped away the tears and her eyes lit up.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, smiling brightly. "Louis is good. He looks so much like your father, it's scary. But much nicer. Very good little boy. He just turned thirteen! Finally a teenager! He asked me to say hello."