death valley

The Hanging Tree Games: Revisited - Task One

Note from the author:

hey you

yes you!

you wanna play a game? :D

you probably didn't ask for it lmao but anyway

at the end are bolder words relating directly to the entry

the game is to see if you can guess what song it's from!

(the game's totally optional tho i made it up on a whim haha)

*

i didn't win

—mind awoke to yet another period of sleep paralysis, shocked for a few seconds, and he couldn't move until a terrifying minute passed by—

The pressure was released and Leander broke into another sweat, panting and staring at the ceiling of his train room while his hands twitched. His breathing was heavy, his knees weak, his arms shaky. Then he gulped it all down and sat up, his blanket falling and his bare torso exposed to the chilly air conditioning. Lee didn't shiver.

That was the third time in a row Lee had dreamt of the match. A third time he saw his brother's evil Cheshire grin, a third time he heard the bang and the flash of a metal blade.

Lee sat up and turned towards the mirror in the corner of his room, despite being unable to see his reflection. All he could truly make out was the simple contrast between the silver moonlight and the dark shadows, for he had left the curtains wide open. At the back of his mind was his adorable tribute partner, the sweet little girl named after her not-so-sweet nation, and for a moment he wondered if she too kept the window bare for the moonlight. Even further back was the thought of killing Panem to stay alive. Lee suppressed the imagery of both. Not that he wasn't objecting to them, but he would rather be blank with no true ideals after seeing Chael again with that unholy smirk painted on his lips—after catching a heart-stopping glimpse of the weapons. He would never be free of that hungry, sadistic, curious gaze, a dark and challenging stare that could pierce through his facade. Chael had shadowed eyes, seemingly darker than Lee's own irises, and they were tilted upward to make the illusion that he was always smiling evilly.

He breathed out through his nose, his eyelids sliding shut to dispel the imagery of his dead brother, and tightened the comforter around his shoulders. He was tired, yet he couldn't sleep. The irony of it all humored him; he let out a croaky chuckle, his voice hoarse. Absentmindedly, his right hand traveled over his left arm, acting so delicately as if he would wince from mere pressure. His fingers trailed up his shoulder, tracing the dips and bumps on his skin, the deformations, the scars. They were imperfections he would rather not look at. Then he lay down again, sighing and tiredly trying at Attempt Number Four of sleep. He let himself drift off into the black void aimlessly as he closed his eyes, his muscles slackening and his heartbeat calming....

Suddenly he jerked awake to an intense battle, his breath ragged and his heart and lungs pumping with furious adrenaline. He was lying facedown, probably presumed dead by another tribute, and his vision was darkened and foggy. Blood was rushing down the left side of his head, the almost-blind side from where his eyepatch had been torn to shreds. Sharp blades of grass pricked at the skin on his face and hands. White noise faded away in his hearing as he came to. His staticky gaze cleared as he looked through his hair—

And then he noticed what was happening as a Career tribute sprinted past. Then a hand reached immediately for the dirty blonde mess of hair and yanked back, numbness filling Lee from head to toe when a painful-sounding screech met his ears. It jabbed at her back with a dagger at the same time she fell back. Once the blade sank deep enough, the hand began to cut sideways instead of pulling it away. It sawed through her quickly and cleanly, while blood was still flowing like a lubricant. It kept cutting through—then it sliced apart the bone—and finally she fell. Paralyzed, the poor girl collapsed, and couldn't even roll onto her back to see the dagger coming for her head as a boy's figure swept down to one knee with said blade tight in his grip. Her body was tossed aside, left to bleed elsewhere while the boy slowly rose.