Chad Watermelonisho made by LikeAV8. Emi, he was boring to write for (Emi is my friend irl, don't accuse me of being rude )
I made Slaundra Autix, and she was also boring as hell... which explains the shortness of this chappie.
Also, Emi, don't get mad at me for Chad, I can't write for thugs o.o
Chapter Six – District Six
Chad Watermelonisho leaned back, cigarette in his hand, against the cold brick wall in the darkness. He watched as several men approached him. A smile reached his face.
“We thought we’d find you here, boss.” One of them smirked at him, pulling out a knife.
“Don’t call me boss, Trav.” Chad told him, motioning towards the weapon as he placed the cigarette in his mouth.
“Whatever you say. Are we gonna hit this place or not?” Trav replied. Chad sighed.
“I think we’ve already talked about this, Trav. I’m solo.” Chad responded, throwing his cigarette to the floor, replacing it with another. “You got a lighter?”
“Boss, you need us.” Trav said, lighting the cigarette.
“You were the reason I was caught last time,” Chad said with a puff of smoke.
“No, the victim was. Mr. Gonzales was always a screamer, you knew it, too, and when you stabbed him, did you expect silence?” Trav responded. The rest of the members stood in the shadows as Trav walked into the light of the street lamp.
“Whatever, Trav.” Chad replied, finishing his cigarette. Chad was a renown murderer. The Peacekeepers attempted to kill him multiple times, but they never had proof. With the murder of Mr. Gonzales, Chad was caught, but not with the knife. Chad had another willing member who took the knife and was executed. Chad had that sort of power over people.
Chad stomped on the last cigarette of his pack.
“Damn,” he murmured, throwing the empty pack onto the ground. Chad looked down into a shard of reflective glass. His face was contorted from drugs, his skin was dark and cut, his black hair was hidden beneath a black bandana, and his piercing brown eyes were the things his victims feared the most.
Slaundra Autix wrote in a leather-cased diary as the sun rose over District Six. Slaundra didn’t enjoy life here. She was an intellectual girl, but was ridiculed because of how weak she was. In the factories, Slaundra could barely lift a toolbox. Instead, she stuck to testing rather than building. She was basically the person who nobody gave a damn for.
Slaundra closed her diary, placing it under her bed pillow. She sat back against the bed with a sigh. Slaundra sat in silence, until she heard a knock on her door. She curiously ran down the stairs. Slaundra reached the door and opened it.
“Is this the Autix residence?” a Peacekeeper asked. Did I do something wrong, Slaundra thought.
“Yes,” Slaundra replied shakily.
“There were reported gunshots down at Fissou and Autix Exports. We heard that your father works there, correct?” the man at the door asked. Slaundra gulped.
“Yes, he’s on shift now,” Slaundra said.
“Your father is Byrein Philos Autix, correct?” the man probed.
“Can you just tell me what fucking happened?” Slaundra got impatient.
“Your father is dead,” the Peacekeeper blurt.
“What?” Slaundra couldn’t believe it.
“It came to my attention that there were two black males seen running off the scene by a bystander.” the Peacekeeper said.
Slaundra slammed the door shut before running upstairs to her room. Tears sprung in her eyes. Slaundra cried as she slammed her bedroom door. When the door shut, she saw her reflection in the mirror. She wanted to break it, to get the girl in the mirror to stop staring at her, the short African girl with the amber eyes and black bob cut.
Slaundra turned from her reflection, crossing her arms over her chest.
Cecil Rause stood at the podium as the escort for District Six. Cecil had always hoped he would move up in the District line. He started in District Twelve, and each year, has progressed through Eleven, Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, and now Six. Next year, he will take on Five.
Cecil couldn’t wait to pull the names. In his entire Career, he’s pulled two victors from the Reaping ball, Vestrauv Klaus from Seven and Apella Gracia from Nine. He coughed into the microphone as he viewed the crowd. In the transportation District, you’d expect the place to smell like flowing gas, but instead, it had a weird wet dog smell which repulsed Cecil.
“Welcome to the 25th Annual District Six reaping. I am your new escort for one year until I get a better District.” Cecil said cockily. “In these two envelopes, we may find a victor. One is a male tribute, the other is a female.”
Cecil opened the male envelope. He ran his fingers over the parchment before reading from it.
“With a large four thousand and thirty-two votes, Chad Watermelonisho will be your male tribute. What kind of surname is Watermelonisho anyway?” Cecil laughs. A large-built African man appears from the male eighteen’s section and walks towards the stage as Cecil opens the next slip.
“With three hundred and two votes, Slaundra Autix will be joining Chad in the Hunger Games.”
A frail African girl appears from the fifteen’s section.
Cecil laughed, knowing neither of the competitor’s would be making it out of the Bloodbath.
YOU ARE READING
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