The Hunger Games: Mashup

Chapter Fourteen

District 13

Edward Elric sat on the top of his hovel of a house, looking over the soft expanse of the ocean he could see between the rocks of his cliff. He gave a sigh, frowning as he stared out across the sea. The sun had set, and all he could see were glittering stars in the sky, shining like diamonds. He thought the analogy was perfect. He loved diamonds. They were strong and unbreakable, and perfect. Just like the real things, the star diamonds were beautiful and enchanting, but a faraway dream for someone of District 13. Edward like the diamonds because they were always without a speck of dirt, or a niche in its surface. Unlike him. As the thought crossed his mind, his nerves on his right arm gave an involuntary sting. He winced and looked down at his arm—or what was supposed to be it. His arm had been taken in a freak experiment by him and his brother. In that experiment, they had tried to ressurect the soul of their dead mother. They thought the term, Human Transmutation was achievable. When the experiment failed, Alphonse was killed, and Edward's leg was taken with him. He had sacrificed his right arm in exchange for his brother's soul back, and Edward had managed to tie the soul to a suit of armor. However, it had been all for naught. A couple months back, Alphonse Elric had died in a graphite mine explosion, because he was reckless enough to dive into the searing heat to rescue a little girl. In the end, the cave had collapsed while he was still inside with her, and the little girl was able to crawl out of a hole in the rocks to escape, only to watch the mine explode behind hear, tearing apart Alphonse's body. The only good side of that—Alphonse had no pain when he died for a second time.

“No! He's gone! My brother!” Edward had cried hysterically. He and Alphonse, when they were little, devoted all of their time to the sacred art of Alchemy—a type of science that allowed the elements of the Earth to be warped into something entirely new, as long as it was made of the same material it was created from. The reason Alphonse and Edward were studying Alchemy—they wanted to bring back their deceased mother with Alchemy's only tabooed art, Human Transmutation. The reason it's tabooed—the law of Alchemy is the Law of Equivalent Exchange. What is made, must be of equal value to what it was made from. You can't just make something out of nothing. What could equal the value of a human soul? When they tried it...the sacrifice was Alphonse's body, and Edward's left leg.

“No! No you can't take him from me!” screamed Edward. Nearby, a suit of armor fell. Edward's brain whirled with the ideas and he pulled himself over to it, ignoring the agony in his leg.

“Give him back...” he whispered, drawing a symbol of alchemy on the neck of the armor. “Give him back! Dammit!” he yelled to the heavens. He pressed his hands together, as both a prayer, and his transmutation circle for his alchemy.

“Give him back! HE'S MY LITTLE BROTHER!!”

The memory was cold and fresh in his mind, but not as fresh as Alphonse's second death.

“Alphonse!” Edward had called out into the smoke. He heard the child cry, a shrill shriek that rocked around his skull. But he dove into the burning wreakage, searching for a sign. He knew that Alphonse couldn't have made it. So why was he still looking for him.

“Alphonse!” The mine blew out smoke that smelled like death. Edward caught the smell of burning metal in the stench and he bit his lip to keep from vomiting. Edward looked to the sky, his hands gripping the fiery dirt that had claimed his brother's life.

“DAMMIT!!!!”

Edward looked at the sky with remorse. He could no longer feel the breeze that rocked the trees around him, or the hard stone roof on his right arm's fingers. It dug into the palm of one hand, but the other hand was unaffected. Edward sighed, his pocket watch hanging on his waist from his belt.

“Alphonse,” whispered Edward. “Where did we go wrong?” he said.

“If I could bring you back, I would,”

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Meroko sat at her kitchen table. Her hands were blackened with the graphite dust from the mines. The dirt went under her nails and almost turned her entire hands black. She had washed them constantly to keep her hands clean, but it was no use. The graphite stuck to her skin like it was supposed to be there. Eventually, Meroko's skin had lots of mismatched places where the coal had stayed on her skin. She frowned, staring at her palms sadly. She used to have soft hands. Really soft. She remember her boyfriend complimented her on them constantly. He always told her how much he loved her hands. And then he died. The kind words stopped, and she stopped caring about her hands. She dropped her hands away from her face, reaching for her whip. It was the only weapon she could use. She knew that if she was placed into the Games, she would die. They never brought whips into the Games. Never. Axes were too heavy for her. Swords were too hard for her to coordinate. Arrows were too hard for her to aim with, and she wasn't excessively strong to begin with. If she was chosen, she would die—almost immediately in fact. But if she did, no one would care. During work, she kept to herself. She didn't speak to anyone. When the village had celebrations, she didn't attend. Her family was dead, and all of her friends had died out from the plague that had swept the village months back. Why was she the only one that survived? She didn't know. She didn't speak any more. She used to love music. Now it was a painful reminder of what she had lost. She lost her best friend. She lost her partner. She lost her lover. She lost her little sister—none of life mattered anymore. Meroko would have killed herself if she didn't know she wasn't already dead. Meroko was a shinigami. That just meant that she had been given a second chance at life. She gave up on life in her past life—now she was forced to do it again. But she knew the gods would just put her back into another body just so she can stay out of their heaven for a while. Heaven was for angels. She was not one in the least. Even if she could though, Meroko wasn't going to commit suicide anytime soon. Know why?

The Hunger Games are tomorrow. She would get her chance to die soon enough.