The Writers' Games: The Phoenix

Round 5: Entries

Ametrine "Aimee" Gairnéad

I wake up to a wall of fire burning everything around me. I guess that's not the best way to wake up, is it? Of course, there can be worse things to open your eyes to in the morning. Murderers. Puddles of blood. Death. But I personally hate fire. This arena is a nightmare to me. 

I stare at the wall of flame that's devouring the forest on the other side of my little river. It's over three hundred feet away but I can still feel the intense waves of heat as the walls move closer. 

What's going on? I look at the sky but there's no face. I must've missed the announcement as to what's happening. That means I'm in trouble. If I don't know what to do, there's no way to be sure I'll survive. I bite my lip and draw my knees to my chest. Maybe I can just stay here. I'm next to the river and all. Fire can't hurt water. Then again, nothing about this place is as it seems. Nothing here is natural. I think of the fox mutts and shudder. And not a cute little horror movie shiver either. 

The wind has gotten intense in the mere moments that I've been awake. It turns my hair into tiny whips that lash across my face so fast that I'll probably have cuts for the next few days. If I'm alive that long. The air is grayer than I remember. Suddenly it hurts to breathe and I start coughing. I realize that the fire may be the least of my worries as I dizzily stand up and start to run in an unfamiliar direction. Anywhere is better than here, as long as I'm away from the fire. Away from the danger. 

But danger seems to follow me as I run. The winds pick up, carrying ash in them that makes my every breathe feel like I'm dying. And I hear footsteps. Crackling. I'm sure I would hear voices if the wind wasn't already howling in my ears. 

And that's when the knife flies by my ear like an angry bee.

I turn and see a boy standing behind me with another knife poised to throw. I scream fearfully, unable to do anything else. My shaking hand fumbles for the sword that's tucked into my belt but I can't pull it out. Starting to panic, I scream louder and tears start dripping down my face. This is it. This is how I'm going to die. After everything I've been through . I'm going to die.

I prepare for the knife to hit me. My eyes squeeze shut and I twist the ring on my hand. I wait. For my breath to be cut off and for my body to erupt in spasms of pain. For it all to end. For everything to go away. But the blow never comes. I open my eyes in time to see the boy simply collapse to the ground and stop moving. He twitches once before his cannon goes off and tears spring into my eyes. One more dead. One more gone. I didn't even know his name. I'm sure he had a family back home. Maybe a girlfriend. Do they grieve for him as they watch? I'm sure they do. He's dead. He'll never say goodbye to them. He's gone.

And it's time I left too, I think as I start running away. The heat is becoming intense again which means the fire wall is close. The wind still howls, masking all sounds. Even my sobs are impossible to hear. Which is good. I don't want to hear myself cry anymore. I cry too much. 

It's then that I trip and fall in a painful heap on the hot ground. I cry out in agony but the wind carries the sound away as soon as I make it. My arm feels like it's burning. Please don't tell me it's broken. Deep down I know it is. I've broken my arm before and this is the same pain. I start to sob and cradle the broken arm to my chest, trying to drown out the pain by screaming. That's when I hear another scream. It's not mine. And it's close to me.

I look around and scream when I see a girl lying on the ground in a puddle of her own scarlet blood. I crawl over to her, knowing she's too injured to pose a threat to me, and look at her. It's the girl with the brother. The boy I saw die yesterday, his sister. What's her name? Briar. She's deathly pale and her lips are blue. A knife is embedded in her throat and she chokes on her every breathe. Her eyes meet mine and widen in fear, though she's already dying.