"Eithne Scout!"
I rise grudgingly as my name echoes through the glinting marble room, feet tapping across the floors soundlessly.
I am really going to do this, I am really going to do this…
As I swing the door open, responding with a sharp click, ten, twelve sets of eyes peer at me curiously. The Gamemakers aren't poisoned with fluid or aching with listlessness yet, and I am at their complete and utter rapture. Perfect.
Striding along the gym, I thrust a few spears at the dummies. Each of them hit the stray far from the bulls eye, as I expected. But they still seem willing enough to give me a portion of attention.
My fingers curl around the spear, shining and brilliantly crafted. I then turn into their direction, clenching the weapon until my knuckles turn a sickly white. My limbs stiffen, and before they can register my action, I push the point into my neck.
Before the world floats from my vision, blurred and unfocused, I manage to give one terrifying, morbid grin.
"Enjoy…the…show." I choke, dropping onto the cold, rigid ground.