TWISTED // Clato | ✓

Prologue | Part 1: THE CAREERS

It was midnight in the ward which, up until this point, had been vacant. However, just as the huge Capitol town clock in the square outside the quiet building was striking the twelfth bong, a hooded figure shuffled hastily down the corridor toward a locked door. Hearing a squeaking sound, he abruptly turned. The point of a knife blade glinted through the dimness. When nothing showed up, he turned and tiptoed the remainder of the journey toward the panel of wood and knocked.

"Rux?" boomed a loud voice from inside. The visitor dropped his weapon into a sheath in his pocket and quickly swung the door open. "I am here, Master."

"Good. I was beginning to wonder if you would arrive at all." The room was small and dark, with only a dim candlelight flickering on the small lacquered table in the center. A figure draped in an identity-concealing robe sat beside the low table. "Sit down, Rux."

"Was Vixen going to join us?" Rux asked in a hushed tone.

"No," replied the mysterious Master. "No; I have watched him for a long time. He will not agree with us. He would not dare to risk tweaking the entertainment of the Capitol for the possible saving of lives."

"Right," mumbled Rux softly. "What does your plan entail?"

The Master heaved a great sigh and drummed his fingers on the table. "It will be very risky; I will need to get around Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane and into the works of the Games. This shall require every bit of your allegiance, Rux."

After pausing to ensure Rux was listening, the Master continued. "After I watched the Seventy-Third Hunger Games last year, I was appalled. I didn't truly realize the horror of the Games until I saw those children being scorched by that volcano. It was truly mortifying, and in that moment I visualized myself in the same situation. Now listen: This year is the Seventy-Fourth Games. This year's Games are in no way more significant than any of the others, but I have decided to run my experiment this year."

"Why is that, sir?" Rux inquired.

"Because after 74 comes 75. The Third Quarter Quell. There is no telling what atrocities they will have planned for that year. Thus, I want to try out my experiment this year, and if it is successful, we may be able to use it next year.

"Here is my plan, and you will be required to carry out most of it. We set the cannon so that it will go off before our tributes are actually dead. While they are still suspended in that limbo between life and death, that is when I want you to send hovercrafts to pick them up. They will be unresponsive, and their wounds will likely presume them dead to the viewers."

"But what about their wounds, sir?" Rux asked anxiously. "Certainly they might live on for a few moments after receiving a fatal stabbing, but how will you be able to save them from that?"

In response, the Master reached into the folds of his robe and removed a tiny, narrow glass vial with a purple liquid swimming inside. "The Px-25 serum, developed by one of my associates. When you are inserting the tributes' trackers, make sure this goes in with it. It will immune their bodies against death blows or injuries for at least a short time, until we pick them up and get to work on them. Death wounds may partially kill them, but we should still be able to save at least some of them."

"But then what, Master? Certainly you can't expect to just send them home when the entire nation believes them to be dead. The President would know we were up to something."

"I know that, Rux. And I have already planned our way around it. Observe." The shadowy figure turned and lifted his candle, walking slowly and silently over to the corner where a large, hulking object sat.

"Is that..." Rux began in shock.

The Master lifted his candle so the light glinted off the shiny words on the side of the machine, which was shaped like a narrow elevator. 

Timetwistplex Machine 3000.

"Yes," the Master replied solemnly. "A time machine. My plan is to send these tributes back to the twenty-first century."

Rux stifled a gasp. "You can't be serious! Do you have any idea... the danger these gadgets can cause?"

"I am well aware," the Master answered. "However, I am not concerned. The tributes will have been so close to death, I think, that all sense of self and all memories of nearly anything will have been wiped clean. They will learn to mingle with Americans back in the year 2015 to be exact."

Rux did not reply.

"Well?" The Master turned roughly to him. "Do you agree? Will you help me with this?"

Rux hesitated. "It's... risky."

"Everything's risky." The Master seized a nearby dark cloth and flung it over the time machine. "Risks are required for man to accomplish anything. Tell me, Rux." He leaned closer to the Gamemaker. His hood still cloaked his face, but Rux thought he caught a glimpse of a pair of bright, shimmering eyes. "Will you help me in this endeavor?"

Rux nodded with as much confidence as he could muster. "Yes, sir. You have... my word."