Cataclysm

0.0

¤▪ Cataclysm ▪¤

I loved watching the games as a kid. I knew everyone who advanced past the first rounds, but my favorites were definitely the ones with the coolest powers, the craziest abilities.

My mother didn't appreciate the games nearly as much as I did. She said it "clouded my judgement" and "made me more violent." Yet, she never stopped me. She just made me turn the screen off before the end, so I had to read the Post to see who won. Most of the time, I already knew. The contestants were getting weaker. I almost wanted my favorites to go against each other. Then maybe it'd be interesting. But the ones who ran the games, the Refs, liked them as much as I did, and they wanted to keep them as long as possible.

The games were all about speed, agility, strength, and wits. Sometimes, contestants were put in a maze, sometimes with traps, sometimes with animals. Sometimes, they were put in some odd obstacle course with danger around every corner. And sometimes, where strength really prevailed, they'd put them in an empty arena, just the two of them. I didn't like when they'd do that. It wasn't as interesting.

My favorite contestants were those who had won round after round. Most of them were finalists.

Aero Chord - his real name was Alex Vlastaras. He was the one with the brilliant black wings that spanned nearly twenty seven feet. He specialized in air attacks, for obvious reasons, and had almost lost when the maze filled with water. He was quick and nimble, but if his wings were caught, he was nearly helpless. He was strong, but when he was on the ground, he wasn't as fast. His wings got in the way.

Tokyo Machine was the one who controlled the animals. It was always so fascinating to watch him when they'd put creatures in there. He lost a few games ago, though.

Braken was interesting. He could turn people into dust just by touching him, but he wasn't strong, so it was difficult to get close. I'm honestly not sure how he managed to advance, over and over. He was small and weak, and he never spoke. Most of the others screamed and cursed and sometimes taunted. Not him. I didn't think he knew how.

But the one called Tristam - he was my favorite. When he competed, he did it like a dance. His fire swirled around him like ribbons, like tails and wings. He was beautiful to watch. I loved watching him, and I was always disappointed when they didn't choose him that week. The finalists always competed on Fridays. I always looked forward to Fridays.

I've watched the games for as long as I can remember, but I never thought I'd be in there one day, fighting for my life.

They only took Unnaturals. I wasn't one of them. I didn't ever think I'd do something to get myself stuck in there.

She ran into me very late one night, in a back alley. I knew I shouldn't have been there, but once I'd turned eighteen, I'd been making good money off of bets. Betting on the games was illegal, but there were places to go to earn your fortune, if only you knew where they were.

Making illegal bets - that wasn't why I was taken. People got caught betting all the time. All their punishment was was a few months in jail and a fine. They didn't really care if we placed bets. They just needed to enforce the law.

No, I was caught with an Unnatural.

Everyone had already gone home, gone back to mourn their loss, and curse my win, but I'd stayed. I don't know why, but I felt compelled to wait, just a little. The Unnatural who ran into me was frantic, bruised, and bloody. This was no surprise. I'd seen plenty like this, but only on the screen. Never in real life.

"Please," she whispered. "Please, help me."

I stared at her, and she stared back. I started to turn away, but she grabbed my hand. "Hey," I protested, yanking my hand back.

"Help," she breathed. "Please, I'm one of you."

She wasn't one of us. She was an Unnatural.

They suddenly came from the sky, their search lights blinding me. The Unnatural was shot and killed right then and there, though I think they were aiming for me. Instead, they grabbed me, holding me down and forcing a cloth against my face. I took a breath to try and explain, but my mind began to slip, weakened by the drug. By the time they hauled me into their hovercraft, I was out cold.