The Writer Games | Once In A Lifetime & World Edition

Finals: Mercy "MeMe" Lakeside

MeMe did not match the  room she had hidden in - days in the arena had ruffled her once calm  hair, weapons had torn her clothes and blood had stained her nearly head  to toe.

She looked almost like a  mad woman, her eyes glaring with what was either insanity or  determination. On the floor in front of her lay a small teddy bear, and  if you had walked into the room, you would have though she was staring  at it intently. However, that wasn't the case - MeMe was just deep in  thought.

When she was fourteen,  the Games had been a lot more about the death than it had been about  entertainment, and her final had been to simply kill the other three  when they were all trapped in a single, pure-white room. Now, the room  had been replaced with a house, and her competitors had been replaced by  a mental girl, a boy with a twisted sense of humour, and a kid who had  never seemed like he would make it this far.

If MeMe could bring  herself to go and find them, it would be an easy win for her, but she  didn't feel like moving off her bed. Back in her other Games, she had  been young, confident and uninjured - now, she was old, aching and (MeMe  didn't want to admit it) scared.

For the first time, MeMe  had been on the receiving end of a weapon, and although she had carried  on, she had felt closer to death than ever before. If it had happened  before, it could happen again, and a weak tribute may very well be her  downfall. MeMe was ashamed to say it out loud, but there was a chance  she wouldn't win these Games.

Her sigh echoed of the  blank, white walls. She had volunteered for these Games to bring back  her glory, and if she was going to get it, she would have to fight for  it. Slowly, she pushed herself off the bed, her feet landing on the  carpet with a silent thump. She picked up her sword, which had now  stained the bed-covers red with the blood, and headed towards the  doorway.

The room had been the  room of a child, and it felt almost cruel to leave it empty and fight  the kind of person who might have slept there. After all, the tributes  were all children compared to her. MeMe would be cutting their lives  short, but she felt no shame in doing it. Two have them had volunteered  for these Games, and one had made it her mission to go this far, so MeMe  assumed they knew what they were getting into.

This was a fight to the death - for someone to win, others would have to make the ultimate sacrifice.

MeMe's tiny steps did  not make a single sound on the plush carpeting of the house. Every now  and then, she heard the creak of a floorboard coming from the floor  below her. Something, either a tribute or a mutt, was moving down there,  and MeMe decided she was going to hunt it down.

The stairs did not creak  beneath, so MeMe was able to sneak downstairs without being noticed. A  shadow danced off the wall at the end of the stairway, proving MeMe's  assumption about the tribute.

The shadow had been  formed by the tribute standing in front of a window, staring longingly  at the view outside. Unaware that MeMe was behind her, she did not react  when MeMe entered the room. Apart from MeMe, there was only one female  tribute left, so it was easy to tell the young girl was Liz, the  depressed girl from District 9.

MeMe didn't want to make a fuss over the death of the girl - confrontation and gloating was for the Careers.

Liz never knew what  happened - before she had even realised MeMe was behind her, a sword had  made a deep cut across her neck and killed her immediately. MeMe felt  no guilt in taking the life of the girl - she obviously suffered from  depression, so MeMe almost felt like she was doing her a favour. At  least now Liz was happy.

MeMe watched Liz  collapse on the floor, her eyes glazed over. Now, there were only two  tributes in the way of MeMe and her house in Victor's Village.