Infectious
The Thirty-Eighth Hunger Games
Shapes wrought by pain
Each hollow engraved with a name
My name, yours?
All of us, we stand
But lifeless, slumped over inside coffins.
The grave holds the answer
Six feet down
And still wrecked with hollow sobs.
The Thirty-Seventh Games
Celestin Aiba, District 9
He found it impossible. Breathing now, with the dirt filling his nose as he looked up at the clouded sky of the arena. So close to sunset. So close to the end. He could have won. He knew it. But now, now he was trapped.
The hole began to file off. He was sliding still, as impossible as it seemed, body twisting and bending and stretching to fit the cracks. Skull was being compressed. He was sure blood was leaking from his mouth. Being buried alive...being crushed alive...should have been impossible. But the laughter told him no, it wasn't. And he couldn't even feel his mouth enough to move it. Knowing his fate, it had probably been deformed as well.
His neck...it started with a tug. But now, he was sure, stretched out like that of those yellow animals seen in the history books. Now his whole body...eyes popping from sockets. Being squished, divided, dragged down and down and down...the depths of blackness. Cracks, running red with blood through the exit of a brick wall.
The stuff of nightmares.
For now he was stuck. But for the way his body stretched, he might as well be dead.
The Capitol
Body Collector/Medical Researcher, Jagannatha Cerdic
It had been unfeasible to collect all the bodies, but Jagannatha had to admit, they were masterpieces. His eyes lingered on one in particular. A stretched out, lifeless and twisted form who had once been the District 9 male tribute. The indentations of his crushed eye sockets and jumbled mass the possibly had resembled a neck and shoulders were inspiring. Beyond distorted, like a fantasy nightmare. It was perfect.
The head gamemaker for these games had warned him about taking care of the corpses. They had to be returned to the districts, he said. But Jagannatha figured the condition wasn't a big deal. And afterward, he could have the bodies back anyway. He ran his fingers over the burnt flesh of a girl- District 2?- feeling every bump of the charred black skin, bones protruding at odd angles. The thought that these creatures- these mutations- had once been alive was absolutely astounding. How much did it take the human body to break? Strenuous force seemed to work, of course, but these corpses were still in one piece. Dismemberment...that was another category entirely.
Still, he figured, it was better this way. Reanimation wouldn't be too hard with these conditions. And these conditions were perfect for them. For building the mutts. Yes, it was absolutely wonderful. And this arena, from what the gamemaker had provided him...would be insane. Literally.
Okay, it's been a long time since I've tried my hand at this SYOT business, possibly because it is so time consuming, and I have a lot of schoolwork. (Don't expect frequent updates, because I couldn't possibly do it.) However, I am re-entering the arena (haha) and would appreciate it if you could all take some time to submit. Form is on my profile, and by PM only. No reservations.