Chapter One
//Bruno//
District One
The Reaping
I examine the scythe in my hand, smirking. I gently rub my finger across the long, curved blade of the lethal weapon. A crimson red coats the length of my scythe. The blood was fresh. The cold, lifeless bodies lay around me.
a few hours ago
"You.", I say, their bodies shivering at the sound of my voice. I see their faces slowly turn towards me. I can barely get this out keeping a strange face; it's a strange thing, the traditions of society. But, if my plan is to work, I need to do this.
"Tomorrow is the Reaping, correct?" I ask. I see their eyes divert towards my arms...which I must proudly say, are what these ones might call "ripped". I clear my throat. Like dogs, this signal makes their eyes look back up at me. Their heads make out a nod. Pathetic. Let's see: one pitifully small boy; easy. A skinny one; I could throw him across the wall with a single touch. And a girl. Her hair overflows into her eyes, just letting me see… No. She must go too.
"I was wondering," I cough out, "If you three would wish to join me tonight for...a gathering.”
I can see the word "No!" forming on their lips, but I "accidentally" drop my scythe. With the little attention spans they have, their eyes once again dart towards the ground, and then back to my eyes.
"Um...of course we would, Bruno...", the skinny one stammers out. "I mean, it would be a wonderful way to celebrate our hard work...right? After all...it hasn't been easy preparing for the games..."
The small one nods in approval...or fear. Preferably the latter.
The girl stares at me with an undying confidence. Well, that'll change soon. Oh, it'll be fun to hear her scream.
My inner human nature almost convinces me, telling me it would be a shame to lose the three most elite in the district.
...not saying much. This district is revolting. I learned that long before I held the first cold body, the first to have fed my scythe blood. The woman who gave me life.
I let the three follow me. The district is quiet now, an eerie calmest over it. I smirk as I remember; soon, the screams will cut through the night.
I let them into the room. I would call this home, but it's just a reminder of scarring memories, dead promises...
"Bruno...?", the girl asks. I'm reluctant to give her the respect she absolutely does not deserve, but I close my eyes. For the plan. I turn my head towards her.
She continues, "Where's your mother?" I tip my head to conceal my smile.
"She's...out tonight." I tell her. Not a lie; her corpse lays out in the backyard.
I take one last look at them. My eyes drift from the skinny one...to the small one...and then to the girl.
And now; the animal kicks in.
I grab a knife and heave it towards the light. In pure darkness, the skinny one can barely make a sound as I plunge a glass shard into his throat. Blood drips all over my hand, his last breaths growing colder upon it. Suddenly, he goes limp.
I can feel the small one attempt to stop me. I pick up my scythe, and shriek with joy as I hear his head roll onto the floor.
And now there were two.
Now, I flick a match alight; I want to see this one die. Her look of fear stays in my mind; it’s amazing. Her lip quivers, her hands tremble, and the great possibility of her breaking down is evident.
I look at her once. “You remind me of my mother,” I rasp. She continues her efforts to claw the door open; it’s obviously everything she has left. Pathetic.
I plunge my scythe into her body, and smile as the blood runs from her face, and her last scream purges through the night.
My scythe makes a peculiar noise as I rip it out of the girl, kicking her body away.
I whisper, as my finger traces over the new blood on my weapon; There can only be one.
****
Rats. All around me, insolent, scrounging rats. Squirming around in happiness. Once again, the Reaping day has approached, and my repulsive district had gathered once again. The Hunger Games was my favorite time of the year; it excited me to see weak children die on TV. Small children. The red spilling out of their bodies gave me joy. How wonderful it is; to see twisting, screaming children, being tortured. Stabbed in sensitive places, and die a slow, painful death.
The severely ugly escort on the stage almost diverted my thoughts to vomiting.
“Greetings District One, “ she started, “And welcome to the Reaping for the 63rd Annual Hunger Games”
The rats around me shrieked in joy. I close my eyes, and withheld all my hatred for all of them.
“First, the female tribute,” she said as she whisked out a name “Lia Pre-"
“No, wait, I volunteer!”, shouted a female voice yielding from the 16 year-old section. She walked up proudly.
I noticed her rather scrawny body. Easy pickings. I grinned.
“Hi lovely, “ the escort began “What may your name be?” she asked.
With her head held high she said “Belle. Belle Blossom”.
“Oh, how nice.” the escort replied.
“Now, moving on to the male tribute”.
I shuffle uncomfortably as I spot the Peacekeepers walking through the crowd. They hold up fliers. With pictures…
Fuck. It’s those three.
I put on a smile, and look around, anxious to get on stage.
Before she even pulled out a name, I shouted “I volunteer!”
I marched to the stage with my face emotionless.
Trina--the escort, started, “Hellooo handsome, how are yo-”
“Shut up.” I scoffed. “My name is Bruno Harroway, and I shall be this year’s victor of the Hunger Games.”
Trina, utterly shocked, musters a few words quietly, “Thank you District One.”
Her Capital-trained confidence returned, she celebrated, “Our tributes; Belle Blossom and Bruno Harroway!”
I glared at her. “Don’t say my name,” I spit. I watch, as the crowd disperses.
OMG HI IF YOURE READING THIS YOU ARE MY HERO.
I LOVESIES YOU AND PLEASE DONT FORGET TO COMMENT, VOTE, FOLLOW, AND ADD
DISTRICT 2 IS COMING SOON
UNTIL THEN,
byeeeee
