Alright, I've only had a little feedback on this one but I think it might be ready for some internet feedback. A few specifics first.
This story is titled "Tragic" or originally "Tragic Circumstances"; however the title has little effect/resemblance to the story. Actually...the story is meant to be a tear-jerker of sorts so maybe "Tragic" isn't too bad a title. It's a Hunger Games fanfic, but I stress that I only use the actual games as the basis - to be specific I only use the districts and the games. I do write mainly in the first person, and in these particular fanfics (yes multiple; I've written 3) I have tried writing fight scenes and have gone into a little detail as to the exact nature of how and where the blood falls. I haven't written melee combat before.
Unlike other HG fanfics, I don't use names. I simply give the characters the number and district they come from; but this story reveals the characters name, but you'll have to read the story to find out.
NOTE - The protagonist changes after the -line- but the writing style does not.
It was a split-second after the gong sounded when I was off of the pedestal and running towards the Cornucopia. I needed a weapon fast, but with twenty-three other tributes it would be an easy task. I settled for a kukri, propped up against a rack of spears, and turned away. I ran most of the distance to the tree line before stopping. I’d need supplies; one of the backpacks would do. So I turned and ran to the nearest backpack, and I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw someone step over the backpack and block my way. We were at least ten feet from each other and I nervously looked around. We were far enough away from the Cornucopia that we wouldn’t be attacked – most of the other tributes would head for supplies rather than a kill. I looked back at the girl, my grip tightening on the kukri I picked up. I saw the girl reach down to her belt and pull a knife from it, then I recognized who this was; the girl from district twelve. My blade would mean nothing since she has the range with her knives. I tensed up, preparing myself for my attack. In one fluid motion a hefted the kukri up and throw it at her with all my might. It was a wild shot, one that I thought I could use to close the distance between us, but I saw with dissatisfaction that the girl easily dodged the flying sword but it did destroy her aim. But as I closed the distance I felt something stab into my left shoulder, and I looked down to see a knife lodged into my shoulder. I looked back to the girl and see her reach down for another knife. I turned, sprinting for the nearby tree line, the pain starting to run through my body. I managed to make it into the trees without another knife being thrown at me. I stumbled through the foliage, a warm trickle beginning to form down my arm. I dared not look down at my shoulder, knowing full well the extent of my injury. I cared little if I left a trail of blood behind me as I fled, I only cared that I make the distance between myself and the girl greater with each step.
I don’t know how long I walked for, or for how long the trickle of blood drenched my clothing. I half staggered into a clearing, falling first to my knees, then onto my stomach. I try to stand, but find it difficult to find any strength left in both my arms and my legs. I roll onto my back and look around the clearing, finding a large, lone rock sits in the middle. I manage to slowly crawl towards the rock and prop myself up against it. My vision is beginning to slowly sway from side-to-side and my breathing is coming in short bursts, and with each burst I find it harder to breath. I feel like I’ve got a splitting headache. Or perhaps it’s a bout of dizziness, I never could really tell…
I awaken with a start, my vision swaying as if I were on a boat. I close my eyes, and gingerly reopen them in an attempt to stop the swaying; it helps a little, but not much. I look up at the sky and see that it’s still daylight, or I could have been out for a day. The rays of the sun shine down on me, and I feel so thirsty…
I hear the rustle of leaves and my head shoots down in front of me. A boy is standing at the edge of the clearing, spear raised towards me. I watch him from where I’m sitting, waiting for the spear to guide me into eternity. But it never comes. Instead, he lowers the spear and looks around, bounding into the clearing and beside me. He kneels beside me and puts his spear onto the ground, throwing his backpack onto the ground. I look at him, and I slowly begin to close my eyes. Perhaps the welcome embrace of sleep will do me some good, but I just see the boy look at me and feel his rough grip as he shakes me awake.
“Stay with me!” He says, pain shooting through my shoulder as I look down at it. The knife’s still there and my entire left arm is caked in dried blood. I’m surprised at the amount of blood I’ve managed to lose and in the first day too. The boy looks at the knife and the wound. I can tell that from the look on his face there’s nothing that he can do. I can also tell that he’s seen who dealt me the wound. His face asks the question he dare not speak; how did you survive her?
“Someone else is here.” I mumble as we both hear a rustle, and the boy turns and stands looking at the intruder, spear in hand. I look upon the intruder with knowing eyes; the short-cropped hair, the black belt, the knife twirling in one hand. It was the girl from district 12. My new companion took a step forward and brandished the spear towards her, and I heard a laugh. M vision faltered and fell upon the pack of my companion, and I reached for it just as a knife tore into it. I heard a grunt and when I looked up I saw the girl and my companion fighting over the spear. I returned my gaze to the backpack and pulled it towards me, opening it and digging around inside it with my free hand. M grasp fell upon a smooth, metallic object and when I pulled it out I found it was a canteen, and it felt full. My mouth was dry and I fumbled with the cap for a few seconds before being able to swallow down a few mouthfuls. But I found that was the wrong thing to do as I dry retched and threw the water straight back out. I returned the water to its pack and threw it beside me, turning instead to the melee in front of me. Both combatants were no unarmed but they took little time in coming to blows. I watched for awhile as the boy tried to overcome the girl’s defenses, but it was for naught; the girl from twelve obviously had some skill when it came to unarmed combat. I quickly look around, finding no weapon within my reach that I could use to help my companion. Then my gaze falls upon the knife sticking out of my shoulder. I swallow hard, knowing fully well the pain that this may inflict upon me, but it’s my only option. I reach for the knife several times, and only manage to grasp it with my unresponsive fingers on the fourth time. I look back at the combatants and see the boys still trying to get through the girls defenses. I look back down to the knife and grit my teeth. I tug at the blade with all my remaining strength, feeling both a surge of pain and adrenaline course its way through my body. Something warm gushes over my hand, and I realize that the knife was giving me what little extended time I had left. I pull again, feeling the knife slacken as it works its way free. I almost lose my grip on the knife as warm blood slithers its way into the crevices of my hand. I let out a cough, spraying my arm with more warm liquid and tug again. The knife comes free, its red-coated blade glinting in the sun as I look upon it. I almost smile through blood-speckled lips, a slow, warm dribble beginning to form on my arm. I change my grip on the knife, holding the slick blade between my fingers. As I look up I see the girl deliver a nasty looking uppercut to my companion, who is sent backwards. He is barely recovered and standing before the girl pulls a knife from her belt and throws it at him. I watch as he falls backwards, the glint of metal reflecting off of an object lodged into his forehead, a trickle of blood beginning to form as he lies there. If I didn’t act now she’d train her eyes upon me
I pour my remaining strength into this last throw, the knife sailing through the air with the grace and skill of a professional knife thrower. The girl turns towards me, only to stagger back as the knife strikes her in the chest. She lets out a scream, and I can see that she’s starting to take ragged gasps of air, clutching at the knife in her chest. She falls to her knees before clumsily reached for a knife on her belt, raising her arm as if to throw. She doesn’t make it, dropping the knife beside her as she falls backwards. I let out a painful sigh of relief as I watch her motionless body. My gaze then falls upon my companion, a small pool of blood beginning to drip its way into the crevices of the ground. I lean back against the rock before I am stunned by what I hear next.
“Hurry up Michael!” I hear a familiar voice shout, but it somehow sounds distant. I look around and almost let out both a cry of surprise and horror; it’s my twin sister. How’d she manage to enter the arena? But when I look again at her I don’t see the trees and rough ground of the arena, I see the cobblestone lane of the market quarter back in district six. I look around, finding that I’m not lying up against a rock but standing in a throng of people. Someone grabs my hand, and I turn to see a girl. A girl I can’t quite remember…
“Come on you two star-struck lovers! We’re going to miss the Reaping.” My sister yells from up ahead, and I see her standing on top of a raised platform at the mouth of the market quarters exit. I look back down at the girl next to me and she smiles. I cannot help but smile back.
As we begin to walk forward I can almost imagine hearing three cannon blasts.
-a line was meant to be here but didn't copy-
I stop at the edge of the clearing. A yell and three cannons brought me to it, but as I step into it I almost lose what little breakfast I managed to scoff down before the games. I find my grip failing on my sword, so I grasp it more firmly, surveying the scene before me. Three bodies lie inside the clearing – well, that certainly coincides with the three recent cannon blasts. I walk up to the first body and instantly recognize it; it’s the girl from district twelve. A knife is lodged into her chest, and another lies beside her, just within the grasp of her hand. Her eyes are wide open in shock, and I bend down and close them. I walk over to the second body, and the sight that I behold is enough to make me lose control over my stomach as I fall onto my knees and heave a collection of what were once cold meats into the vicinity of a nearby bush. I wipe my mouth with the sleeve of my jacket, chancing another look in the hope that my stomach will steel itself. I don’t remember which district this boy came from, but my gaze instantly goes to the source of my revulsion; the knife sticking out of his forehead. I gaze at this horrible image and know that it will haunt my dreams for as long as I live. I stand and try to shrug off a cold shiver that’s worked its way down my body as my eyes fall upon the third body. My curiosity gets the better of me and I approach him for a better examination. I can tell from the copious amount of fresh and dried blood on his left arm and shoulder that he bled out from his wound, but the wound looks like it was done by a blade of some kind, more then likely a knife and quite possibly from the girl from district twelve. I cannot help but keep my eyes glued to the boys face. Despite his injury, despite his impending death, despite the death that’s surrounding him, the boy has a look of content on his face, and his eyes appear distant; as if he were not entirely here when he finally succumbed to his wound. I close his eyes for him, knowing that there are few that would have the courtesy to grant him this last rite.
I stand and make my way out of the clearing, taking one last look at the three bodies. Better leave so that they can remove the bodies.
Author
Topic: Tragic (Read 623 times)