"Rux!" The name boomed so loudly through the headset of its bearer that he stumbled back a few inches. Shaking his head roughly to clear it, he replied, "Yes?"
"The Games are about to begin. Are you prepared?"
Rux nodded. "Yes sir. I confirmed that the PX-25 serum was injected along with the trackers."
"Good. Now I recognize that in the heat of the bloodbath, many tributes will be harmed beyond even our aid. However, I want you to try your hardest to save as many as can be saved. Do not delay in sending your hovercrafts down to pick up the victims. I trust you have reset the cannon settings?"
"Yes, sir." Rux flipped a row of switches. His hands were sweating. The Master, though mysterious, was intimidating.
"Remember," came the Master's voice again, "this is only a test. I plan to have our defenses up next year."
"Why the big rush, sir?" Rux adjusted his headset.
"Because," the Master replied, "this has gone on for too long. It is time, I think, for an uprising."
At this word, Rux stumbled backward, toppling his chair. The forbidden word had leaked out of his Master's mouth! But the man was not finished.
"If the people will not bring it themselves, then we will bring it to them."
Rux was still recovering from his shock, but he nodded. "Yes sir--right away, sir."
He adjusted the controls until he had a clear view of the arena. Turning to his assistant, a masked Peacekeeper, he said, "All right, those Careers are going to strike hard, so once they're through, make no delay sending in hovercrafts, you hear?"
The Peacekeeper nodded. "Yes, sir." He stepped out of the chamber.
Rux stepped out through a different door, sliding the panel back behind him so it was indistinguishable from the wall. Shuffling down the corridor, he reached the large round room where the Gamemakers sat around their control screens. A hologram of the arena was spinning around the center.
"Oh, there you are, Rux." Seneca Crane, Head Gamemaker, beckoned over to an empty chair. Rux seated himself carefully in the place of the second in command. The hovercrafts were his responsibility.
Seneca stroked his flame-carved beard and strolled onto his main platform. The voice of Claudius Templesmith, the announcer, could be heard on the intercom.
"Let the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games begin!"
YOU ARE READING
TWISTED // Clato | ✓
FanfictionSeventy-four years has been long enough. The way of the infamous Hunger Games has been altered. No longer is every Gamemaker out to devise the worst means of torture and death for every tribute. No longer are the people of Panem outwardly toleran...
