Writer's Games Entries

Task 1: "The Training-Session"

The guards around me here are still twisting and turning their heads a little bit to the sound of my joints still cracking right in front of them. I crack them out of place before I crack straight back. It used to hurt, but when you've done it repeatedly to yourself for a couple of years, you grow accustomed to it. At the same time, it gives me some entertainment from the guards while I'm forced to wait for my turn. This is nowhere near half of my abilities. Killing my step-father a couple of years was a proof of that. In my opinion, my remodeling of his entire bone-structure was a work of art. Sorry to say nobody else felt that way.

Let us not forget that we're two tributes from District 4, me and this pathetic partner called Thalassa...want to hear her story? It's not really intriguing I'll tell you that much. She just thinks she's the worst person to walk the earth after killing her family with a trident. She had no agenda, no finesse about it she just killed them. It's plain and boring. There's got to be motive and a certain sense of pleasure behind it. Tell me what the best part is: a person dying, or a person being in so much pain he or she actually begs to die. Personally, I'd go for the second one.

Killing is not just rage and power...it's art and finesse. Learning how the human's skeleton worked, I made a plan to kill my step-father. When I got that point where I actually tortured him, the actual pain he expressed in his face, in his eyes and through his screams, that was just...wow. I promise you: way better than any s*x you'll ever have. There's just this release of pleasure that can't be compared to anything. The death itself, is merely symbolical or whatever. It's not sad because a person dies, it's sad because you don't get more satisfaction.

So to put it like this: my district partner, not much to look at regarding her skills as a killer and her supposed stamp as a favorite. She might be a good-looker but the only thing I care about, are those joints. Man, those would be fine to wreck for real. I'd take my time with her that's for sure. I'd reorganize them in a better manner...or, rather a deadlier manner. I'm well into my own thoughts and fantasy-world when I hear the signal of my turn and I am immediately annoyed by it.

"Male from District 4, Cyrus Blue..." That's it? They don't even mention my nickname?! As if the signal of my turn wasn't annoying enough, that was just freaking insulting! I take a deep breath and walk through the door as I hear the guards on the outside exhale slightly in relief and the moment I step inside, another guard straightens up. He's standing next to the door as I notice the equipment in front of me: darts and a blowpipe, berries, ropes, knife...and further to the left, a chair.

When I lift my eyes slightly towards the balcony ahead of me, for your information as safe as they appear to be behind their electric-shield or whatever, they still seem to be pissing their pants when they see me. They must've heard about my...'work or art'. The Gamemaker is quite distinct though. She thinks she's going to command me through this session, but she's dead-wrong.

"I'm just going to point a couple of things to you pathetic people up there: 1) I don't conform to any of your rules so I'm gonna do what I'm want to do and you'll watch me. 2) You're lucky this guard is down here cause otherwise I'd pick out one of you for what I'm about to show you, and 3) I don't respond to Cyrus Blue. That boy doesn't exist anymore. I am the Joint-Wrecker in case you didn't remember that from your briefs..."

Nobody says a word to that, but I don't wait for them to respond, not even the Gamemaker in front of me who seems to watch me intensely. I can hear someone gulp loudly behind me as the guard seems to sense me planning something involving him. Please, I knew I was going to do something to someone. It just depended on whether or not they would hand me a guard or volunteer themselves...obviously them volunteering wouldn't help me much. They'd be too dead afterwards to be of any use when I was in the Games.