Chapter 14

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A new feeling now coursed through my veins- revenge. For who had really killed Liam- brought him into the Games, with the intention of death? Who had really left him to die in the infirmary: a promise broken?

Raxis. A deep, strong hatred spiked my blood and I fought to keep my anger under control as I swiftly travelled to Raxis's private quarters led by Raxis's servant. I contemplated killing the servant right there and then: he would not have time to cry out, it would be a quick slash of the throat from behind.

Though tempting that choice was- I could not find Raxis's quarters by myself. I had been there only once before, on my insisted appointment, and I had been though many corridors and doors and rooms, not remembering the way. So I let the servant live, despite the smirk which was present on his face which taunted me.

Do you really think that you can kill Raxis, a demon with numerous and deadly powers? One who could strike you dead in an instant? Do you really think that you can defeat him? A negative part of me thought. But I had to. I had to avenge Liam's death, to stand up for him, not to cower in the shadow of Raxis, never once questioning him.

But I was not born to live in fear, always scared. Life should be full of fun and laughter, trying out new experiences and enjoying life to the full. My life was now besmirched with the taint of fear: whenever I had been with Liam, laughing and talking and having the best time- fear of the Games, fear of death was always creeping around in the back of my mind. Even before the Games: there was always horror at the latest Games death and sorrow as friends were chosen for the Games and didn't survive.

I remembered a little girl of seven from my childhood: Evanna. She had the most gorgeous blond, curly locks and was the prettiest, nicest girl I had ever met. We were best friends. And then, on the day of the Choosing: Evanna Remasso was indirectly chosen for the Games. Evanna had walked up to the Raxis's servant, her head held high. She was six years old, and yet, she did not cry. I watched every Games, selfishly hoping she would survive. In the third Games, The Fire Frenzy, a monster, five metres tall and armoured with deadly sharp spikes, cornered her.

The monster was armed with a flamethrower and Evanna was defenceless. The monster then, sprayed the fire at her: a red-hot stream of blistering, burning fire. I watched, tears running down my face, as she screamed and screamed. The monster took great enjoyment at her pain and immediately doused her in water. It proceeded to spray her with the deadly fire again and again, using the water every minute and then starting the torture all over again.

I had felt so alone, so confused after her death. I was only six myself, not understanding how someone could hurt her like that. I thought it was a lie, that she was an actress in a movie, that she was not dead. But no matter how hard I wished, she never came back.

The only people who had broken through my shell completely was Renae and Liam. Renae....well, I was never very close to girls. I had friends in high school, but after... don't think about her. The reminder left me breathless, like I was trying to breathe with punctured lungs.

After the incident, I stopped going out with my friends shopping or the movies- whatever. I became a daily visitor to the school library, completely avoiding my friends. Eventually, they got the hint. They stopped calling to ask how I'd been, to invite me to hang out at their place or to talk for ages about whatever boy fantasy they had.

But Renae had burst into my life: I never had a chance to shield myself. She had such a bright, happy personality which I needed, something to balance out the numerous dark thoughts that haunted me about the Games. The kind of person that I had always wanted to stay away from... because it was easier to wallow in grief than try and step towards bitter truths.

And Liam... I had never been interested in boys up to the Games and when entering the Games, boys weren't top of my mind. But Liam was more than some stupid teenage fantasy. He was caring, thoughtful, handsome, funny, smart. He made me laugh. He was flawed; so was I. We were on a path to death; but we were on it together. The memories that came with thinking of him stung at my eyes. I forced myself not to cry in front of the disdainful servant. I would not show weakness in the company of one of Raxis's followers.

Toys of a Dangerous Mind-{Winner of Undiscovered, Watty Awards 2011} Under EditWhere stories live. Discover now