The 1st Writer Games: Powers

Task #3 - Responses (Males)

.: Jasper Vaz-Merille - District One :.

Tiamera is gone, vanished into thin air. Not again. I don't even bother looking.

It's very hot.

I sigh. These Gamemakers, the giggling girls from my training assessment, seem to have a real evil streak. 

Well, looks like I'm solo. I sigh and sit up, shrugging off the skins. Sweat runs down my face; when I run a hand through my hair it sticks straight up. My clothes cling to my muscles. I don't have much, just some bottles of water and packets of high-protein goo. I down one of the bottles, pouring some over my head.

Damn. I should be rationing. Oh well, there's nothing I can do now. Something shifts behind me. Quick as a flash, my bow is in my hand, the weight of it comforting. Something hisses towards me; I duck and whatever it is cracks over my head like a whip. I roll as I hit the floor, absorbing some of the force, scramble for a shot and fire it off, unleashing a quick blast of light so she can't see it coming. By the sound of it I get a solid hit, but I don't waste time wanting to find out and bounce to my feet, blotches spinning in front of my eyes from that light.

I run, and run straight into trouble.

I hadn't realised how close together all of us tributes are. But it looks like I've stumbled straight into the worst possible group. The girl from 12 glares down at me evilly.

That's all I give myself time to take in. the next second my hands are around her throat; the second after, she's dead. My arm jolts. I whirl around and it's the kid with the stupid name from 5, looking ready to rip my head off.

I don't give him the chance, shoving the bow into his stomach to make hin double up with pain, then kicking him in the shin. There's a splintering noise and he screams, sending chills up my back. I wish they wouldn't scream. I scrabble to snap his neck.

He fights back, sending fierce bursts of wind, digging his hands into my hair, but eventually I manage. As the wind dies, I look up.

Some kind of bird with scales, not feathers. It's circling, looking for bodies, and I'm sat next to two. I scramble away, loading up the bow; the skin might prove useful.

Amazingly, it roars and a huge explosion of fire bursts into the trees where my supplies are. Damn. Won't be going back for those then.

There are two flying things! Only one doesn't look much like a bird, it looks like a tribute waving something sharp and deadly...

I shoot. It's not great, taking the girl through the ankle and I wince at the cry of pain, though not as much as I wince at the splat noise that follows. I can't look. Luckily, I don't get the chance to. The bird-like creature spots me and launches a vivid ball of fire, diving and swooping up into the air again. I throw myself desperately to one side, scattering arrows everywhere. 

The boy from 13 runs past, panting. Too tired to be invisible? His eyes are fully focused in front, and as he goes he shouts for Scythe. Well, what sort of idiot falls in love in the games? He deserves everything that he gets, like the rest of 13. He's so oblivious to anything else that he stumbles right where the bird can see him.

The fireball almost knocks me over, but it doesn't kill him. Instead, he thrashes about, burning like a lantern and screaming in pain. My stomach twists. I run.

The heat is too intense, burning every inch of my body and I have nothing except my bow to defend myself, no arrows. Every movement is a bird. Every sound is a fireball or a tribute. I'm exhausted. I won't be able to fight. If someone finds me, I've had it.