Writers' Games - Free Falling {CLOSED}

Noelle Jenkins' Bloodbath

Red. What a beautiful colour.

The colour of roses.

The colour of blood.

The colour of rubies.

The colour of fire.

The colour of pain. Danger. War.

These thoughts consumed me as I stared down at my hand, watching as a dot of blood sprouted from my cut and began to roll down the palm of my hand. It left a red stain in its wake, eery against my pale skin. I lean down towards my cut and begin to lick at it, staring uncomprehendingly ahead of me. I could taste the metal in my mouth, the sweet taste of my own blood.

'30 seconds until launch' the robotic, female voice announced loudly over the speaker. Gripping the shard of glass I was holding tighter in my fist, feeling the rough edges digging into my soft skin, I stiffly walked over to the glass tube. The piece of glass slid from my hand, falling to the ground and shattering. Fresh blood dripped down onto it, and my vision blurred freakishly. I clasped my other hand over my cut as I stepped onto the pedestal, my movements almost robotic, as I waited for the launch.

I could almost taste the flesh of the other tributes. I could almost smell the wonderful scent of fresh blood, could almost see it spill to the ground from an open wound, turning the green grass to crimson. I could almost hear the sobbing of children begging for their lives, their screams as the fatal hit was delivered.

My thoughts were interrupted as the pedestal suddenly sprung to life, lurching upwards and slowly raising me towards the roof at the top of the tube. I wiggled in anticipation. Suddenly, a blinding light shone into the tube, making me squint. The pedestal raised me up to the arena and suddenly stopped, and I quickly looked around at my surroundings.

I was standing on a tiny island, only large enough to compensate for my pedestal. Extending from my little island were two rope bridges. One led to a large island that was almost completely forest, and the other led to the cornucopia. I looked around at the arena, my jaw dropped open as I surveyed the islands, attached to each other by rope bridges. There were islands above me, below me, to my left, to my right, everywhere. That's when I realised it.

Below the islands, there was nothing but blue skies and clouds. If you fell off your island you were dead.

I readied myself to run to the cornucopia, my eyes focused. I had the advantage - I was directly facing the cornucopia opening.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, let the games... begin!'

Then the gong sounded, and I sprinted forward onto the rope bridge. I ran into the mouth of the cornucopia, and grabbed a large backpack, along with a large assortment of daggers and throwing knives. I shoved one throwing knife and one dagger into knife scabbards that hung from my belt, shoved the rest into my backpack, then bolted from the cornucopia. I pulled out my dagger and charged for the closest tribute - Chrystal.

She looked prepared as I approached and retaliated quickly, kicking me hard in the stomach and making me fly back a few metres. I gasped as I hit the ground, and pain sprung up in my right hip. I looked up at Chrystal and hissed loudly, my lips curled back in a snarl. Chrystal looked startled, and I took the opportunity to leap to my feet and run towards her, arms outstretched. I latched onto her arm and, without warning, sunk my teeth into her flesh.

Chrystal's scream tore through the air like a bolt of lightning. She yanked her arm away, leaving a trail of blood running down her forearm.

"What the hell?" she screamed. "You freak!"

I lunged for her again, dagger in hand, and stabbed her through the thigh. Chrystal was sobbing now, her cries loud and filled with pain. I tackled her to the ground and sat on top of her, smirking away.