The Hunger Games: Mashup

Chapter One

The Capitol

“Kyoya. How soon will the field be ready?” asked Phantom. He put his chin on the back of his hands, resting it there as he stared at the video screens of Panem. He sat atop his gilded throne like a king, although he had already expressed his disgust for crowns and capes.

“As soon as you want, sir. We've got the dynamics ready, the traps set, and the composition arranged. All that's left is your approval for the start, sir,” said Kyoya coolly.

Although controversial in appearance, the two men's appearances were incredibly similar. Handsome and calm, Kyoya Ootori was Phantom's right hand man. He was not seen without his clipboard and pen. He wore his signature glasses which he had taken a habit of pushing them back up his nose with his middle finger. He had smoothly combed back black hair, and he always made it a point to have every single hair in place. His smile was charming, but his eyes were without a sparkle of kindness. He used everything to his advantage and everyone to their full potential. He loved to watch people squirm under his grip. He may have resented Phantom for being superior to him, but if he did, he didn't show it. He was a master at a poker face, and killing people silently without ever being suspected. Kyoya donned a dark blue suit, ironed to perfection. His superior Phantom wore his own outfit, specifically tailored for his interests. A thick bandage covering the expanse of his left arm concealed the magical weapons Phantom possessed. He wore a blue shirt and pants and a white belt that fell down his body. His tattoo on his right hand was the same color as his bracelets up the uninjured arm and mimicked a red and purple flame, the symbol of his power. Phantom, although just as guarded about his emotions, was more up front about what he felt. If even the slightest bit of imperfection was present, he would just as soon as fix it himself as he would be to kill the person responsible for it. He hated kindness and love. He felt they were unnecessary emotions that simply got in the way of a person's mental abilities. For the ruler of Panem, he found that his mental abilities were quite important. Phantom loved frontal assaults, but he was not above killing in secret. He was as good as killing someone with a hidden arsenic drink as he was chopping their head off in the Hunger Games, his own creation. The Games had gone on for about thirteen years, and Phantom was getting bored. He smirked to himself.

“Make sure to put in plenty of traps for the tributes this year, Kyoya,” he ordered him. Kyoya wrote it down with his penmanship that was so fast it was impossible to spot.

“Of course, sir. In fact, I already anticipated it, so I put it into the grids myself,” said Kyoya. Phantom looked over his shoulder at Kyoya.

“You never fail to amaze me, my friend,” he said in approval without smiling. Kyoya bowed to him.

“Your praise is most treasured, sir,” he responded automatically. Phantom smirked at him directly this time.

“Tell Dr. Frankenstein to make the arena a living hell for the children.” Dr. Frankenstein was the Head Gamemaker in the Capitol. Quite contrary to his friends, His appearance was messy and disheveled. He was an excellent assassin. He wore an old lab coat and large glasses. He had obnoxiously obvious stitching covering his skin, along with the giant screw in his head that made him look like a zombie. Yet, he was intelligent, and strong, so no one complained about his looks—at least, not within his earshot. He also had an uncanny love for experimenting, so those who crossed him could suddenly go missing the next day, or have an unknown scar across their navel without their knowledge of ever gaining it. Yet, Dr. Frankenstein was known for his cruel and complex thinking, so Phantom was quick to hire him for the job. He was insane, but he was also insanely valuable.

“I do so love to torture their little faces into insanity,” continued Phantom. Kyoya stood entirely still. He knew what was coming next. Phantom was entering his evil-ranting phase. Phantom's eyes became slits, and his smile became exceedingly smug. He shivered with delight, clinging to himself.

“I just love to see all hope leave their eyes when they see that sword pierce their throats! I adore their high-decibel screams as they pierce the heavens with their cries of pain! It's so much fun watching the terror fill their face as they run from my pets...my muttations! To see them so caught up in despair—it's such an enlightening experience! Don't you agree, Kyoya?!!” screeched Phantom, clawing at his face. He turned to look at Kyoya, his eyes filled with startling happiness. He truly loved death. Kyoya simply stared at him with cold eyes. Eventually, a cruel sneer lit up Kyoya's face, and he looked as demented as his master. In some ways, to see the clean, society respected man take on such a villainous look with such malevolent intent—that was more frightening than seeing the insane leader of Panem take on the same appearance.

“Of course, sir. It is most pleasing to watch them die for our entertainment.”