Writer Games: The Final Twist & A Night in Wattpad Manor & Faction Wattpad

Finals: The Face of Death

Congratulations, Phalene Papillion, Parabella Bluestone, Enver Code, and Orchard Woods. This is the final day, and the final moment of these Games is about to come. May the odds be ever in your favour.

You've spent a whole  week in this arena now, and, although you don't know how, it seems your  home. Even though it is now a bleak mess, full of red-stained grass,  branches all over the ground and grey clouds, there seems to be some  kind of beauty in it. Or maybe the fact that you're still alive in it  causes the euphoria that makes it beautiful.

Two more tributes have  fallen today already, and the air is dense. Rain is beginning to fall,  and the clouds seem menacingly darker, almost black. There is a storm to  come, but why it hasn't arrived yet, you don't know.  After all, there  are only two of you left.

After a long fight and  injuries on the both of you, you finally hear the cannon confirming that  your final competitor has died. A mixture of pride and relief fills you  as you realize that you are the victor. All those days filled with fear  and panic are over now, but the guilt might never leave.

But the anthem doesn't sound.

"Congratulations," says  Fillius, his face showing the hint of a smile, but stern as always. When  his face appeared in the sky, you don't know, and you still haven't  notice that the clouds have gotten closer and the rain has gotten  heavier. "Let us all give a big hand of applause to our victor: YOUR NAME from YOUR DISTRICT."

You feel as though he  isn't talking to you, like he's addressing the television audience  watching, but soon you forget all about that. "Some of you may be  curious as to why our victor has not yet been pulled out from the arena.  Don't worry, there's a perfectly valid explanation." Fillius vanishes,  only to resurface holding an envelope in his hand. "As a reminder  that every citizen of Panem is at the mercy of the Capitol, this year,  our dear Gamemakers may do as they please, regardless of any  preconceived notion in your mind. This was the twist, correct?  Already, we've played with gravity, teleportation, and hallucination,  tested you before even your training and your interviews, but there is  still one more twist to come: the final twist, if you will. As a  reminder that the Capitol did not have to extend its generosity to keep  the districts alive, the victor of these Games will not exit the arena alive."

The thunder cracks now,  the rain pours heavier, and you are stuck outside during a storm, still  attempting to process the punishment you've received instead of the  reward you were promised. You killed, stole, betrayed, and endured  countless challenges, all because you were promised life. And now you  don't even get that.

Hours pass, as if the  Gamemakers want to show everyone your fear – does the Capitol find this  amusing? – but the thunder still strikes, sometimes dangerously close to  you, which makes you jump. Your cheeks are wet, a combination of rain  and tears; you know death is coming now, and it scares you.

Then the storm stops.

Fillius appears in the  skies again, chuckling. "Oh, relax," he says, and you can hear muffled  laughter off the scream. Audax, maybe? "We wouldn't actually do that,  just thought it would be amusing to see your reaction. Quite the show  you gave us, by the way! Congratulations!"

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THE TASK:

-Start by killing the  final tribute, then include Fillius' message. After hearing this, you  must have some inner process, whether it is flashbacks or questioning  yourself or character development or all of the above. What is included  in this entry is entirely up to you. End with being picked up by the  hovercraft.

-Hand in by September  7th, 2013, at 8 PM EST. Entries will be posted at a fifteen minute  interval in order of who handed in first.

-Voting will be explained in a further chapter.

-Word Limit: 3000 words.