Chapter Two - Hunger Games and Daily Life. Sorta.

677 29 23
                                    

Hello loyal readers! Welcome to my playground! I'm glad to see that you are all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and ready for adventure!

(I hope)

PS, our fabulous new cover design is from one of our own, DJ_DigitalGlitch on Wattpad. Thanks DJ_DigitalGlitch!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~Third Person POV~

"Ian, how in the world did you manage.. to get stuck in a tree?" Jerome asked, the tone of his voice somewhere in the middle of disbelief and 'Are you freaking kidding me?' as he stared up at the man in the tree. Said male flailed his arms dramatically, adding emphasis to his point.

"I. Don't. Know!" He screeched "Glitch, maybe?". His body slid slightly to the right and the male almost lost his balance, grabbing on to the tree limb to prevent himself from dying young. He clutched the thick white branch of the Birch tree he was stuck in with a death grip, holding on so tight that his knuckles had almost became the same color as the tree bark. Jerome, on the ground, merely facepalmed, earning a hiss from the brunette male that sounded something along the lines of "Get. Me. Down. Noooooow..!"

The fluffy bacca sighed. "But that's practically impossible!" he shouted up to his companion, who flailed again.

"But you're a Bacca!" The elder male whined. Jerome rolled his eyes and was about to inform the sunglasses-wielding man that baccas couldn't swim through lava, which completely surrounded the base of the tree, when an arrow went through the back of his head. The bacca exploded and the brunette wailed, watching as a bow-wielding man, dressed in all black and red, jogged out of the forest with an empty bow in hand. The brunette sighed.

"Great, just great. It looks like i'm going to die whether or not I get out of this notch-forsaken tree!" He huffed, banging his head against the rough bark in frustration. The advisory advanced on the poor male, who was debating internally on what was a better way to die. Death via arrow or death via lava?

The tall figure stopped at the base of the tree, slipping the bow over his shoulders and placing his hands on his hips.

"Wow...just wow" The male cooed, earning a pout from Ian. The newcomer reached his hand up and ran his fingers through his spiky brown hair, a smirk dancing across his tan features. His eyes, caramel brown, gazed at the frustrated other with a predatory quality. "Welp, whatever. This is the end for you Ssundee, any last words?" He asked, pulling an enchanted snowball out from his inventory.

"No! I was so close! Just a few more seconds, mercy!" Ian wailed, watching the checker-clad boy toss up the snowball repeatedly.

"Hmm, let me think..." said male replied, catching the snowball one last time before pulling his arm back.

Ssundee squealed, shouting "I ate Jerome's last box of cereal!" As his final confession as he was pushed off his perch by a ball of glowing white powder and into the lava.

Mitch smirked as the last cannon boom echoed in the distance. The deathmatch counter stopped it's ticking, looming over the victorious Canadian at 7 seconds, and disintegrated into fireworks.

--- *Sular, Kaneki, and Jenusai* ((Please someone remember this!))

Mitch felt a jolt of soft electricity burst through his body as his surroundings changed, revealing a packed lobby. The noise from Mitch's footsteps was completely covered by the sound of conversation of the Nexus, his humming inaudible to everyone but himself. While it was noisy, Mitch was content with the peacefulness of his mind as he made his way to the bench where he was supposed to meet up with the Team. It has been three months after the Canadian's life had been changed forever, and now that he was home, he couldn't help but keep a quiet mind, trying to relax after everything. Repairs had been long finished to Mitch's room, and it had been a tear-filled reunion when Bailey, the horse that might as well have saved Jerome's life by drawing the mobs away, had returned to the base, unscaved.

Mitch hadn't changed back into his Soul Keeper form once since Mark had bond it to his dog-tags. He never removed them, and in the first month, he had been incredibly careful not to take them off.

He and the Team stayed in constant communication with the Pack, who had successfully built a new headquarters in Northern Minecraftia, and the MunchingUniverse duo, who had decided to go live with Tyler's family again. The two groups visited often, and those days were filled with banter and craziness. Not that Mitch minded.

Mitch stepped out into the dim evening light as he exited the Nexus. After traveling to Spawn City for a vacation (and to help Seto move into Brice's apartment there), they had decided to rent a small house inside the city walls for a month to just relax. Most days, they all stayed in the Nexus and played mini-games to their heart's content, while on random occasions they spent the entire day together as a group, running from place to place and just having a good time.

Now that Mitch was alone, his footsteps echoed off the fancy stone walk-ways of the vast, bustling city. However, it was a calm night, and Mitch was alone, walking down a stretch of sidewalk that lead to the house TC was renting. Shadows were cast into crevices and dim corners, the street in which the Canadian was passing only illuminated by the faint light of a street lamp. A chilly breeze weaved itself around the tall skyscrapers of Spawn City, but that wasn't what caused the Canadian to shiver.

The Canadian stopped in his tracks and spun, his body rigid and tense as he felt the lingering eyes on him. Mitch's eyes widened when he saw a cloaked figure slip into an alleyway upon noticing his turn.

Fear crept through the Canadian's body like ice-water, freezing his body to the spot he stood, before he shook himself and darted forward. He was continually haunted by the events of months prior. Night terrors, hallucinations, strange feeling plagued him day and night. He wanted to believe it was just an impression left by his traumatic experiences, but deep down he knew that what had happened wasn't an accident, and the 'war' wasn't over.

"Hey!" The Canadian shouted, now standing in the entranceway to the alley in which the figure disappeared. His fists clenched when he spotted a cloaked figure stop where it stood, about 3/4ths into the alley. The figure, who was about a foot shorter than the Canadian, remained silent. Mitch took this as an invitation to speak.

"Hey, w-were you following me?" He demanded, cursing at himself for stuttering. The figure remained still, before it- correction, before she spun on her heels, turning to face Mitch. Mitch knew it was a girl based off it- her  figure and features, however, he couldn't see much of her face. He saw the outline of her body, the tips of her curly-Q brown hair, and the bright glow of her purple eyes. He subconsciously took a step back, startled.

Her eyes also observed him, her face stoic under the shadow of her cloak's black hood. Then, she opened her mouth. When she spoke, her words were full of meaning yet monochrome at the same time.

"You will find an ally in your worst enemy, remember that." She spoke, then, with a swirl of her black cloak, she was gone, leaving a startled Canadian in her wake.  

Only Human (Sequal to Monster)Where stories live. Discover now