DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING... I JUST "VOLUNTEERED 'SOUL EATER' AS TRIBUTE" ;D
I think I have a lot to explain...
First, this is set after a battle between the Kishin and Lord Death, and the Kishin wins. This leads Death to hiding out in a rundown city. Under the Kishin's rule, the entire world was divided into 12 Sectors. No one even remembers the countries' original names!
Second, I know there's an argument about this whole gender thing, but Crona is a girl in my story.
Lastly-for now-I have all twenty-four tributes and extra characters named. However, I'm still debating on whether I should keep all twenty-four, since most of them aren't that important anyways.
I'm willing to answer any questions you may have, so please R&R! Chapters updated weekly, and don't forget...
^^THe SHaDoWPuPPeTTe iS aLWaYS WaTCHiNG^^
When I wake up, the other side of my bed is absolutely freezing. My fingers stretch out, desperately searching for Crona's warmth, but only finding the rough mattress. I groan. She must have had nightmares and slept with Blair. Poor thing-why wouldn't she? It's Reaping Day.
I sit up, glancing at the dark corner of the room. What little sunlight there is falls onto my adopted sister, Crona, curled up and shivering. Her face is still as lovely and fresh as the dew on roses, despite the tragedies of her former life. Mother was beautiful once, or at least that's what I'm told.
Wrapped in Crona's arms, guarding her in a way, is the world's brattiest cat; large hat, stuck up attitude, evil smile, and knowing eyes. Crona named her Blair, because of her beautifully odd purple-ish coat. She hates me, or distrusts me at least. Even though it's been years, I'm pretty sure she remembers when I tried to kill her after Crona brought her home. She was scrawny little kitten back then, infected with worms, and crawling with fleas. Why waste my time with that? But then, when Crona started crying, I had to let her stay. It turned out just fine. Crona took care of the infectious vermin, and Blair's actually a born mouser. She chases rats, frogs, spiders, even the occasional snake! Sometimes, when I clean my kill, because Crona can't, I give the entrails to her. I'm pretty sure that's how I got her to stop hissing every time she saw me. So, entrails equals no hissing. When it comes to us, that's as close to love as you get.
I slide off the bed and into my grey boots, which are huge despite my small feet. I slip on my usual red skirt, long sleeve white undershirt, and yellow sleeveless shirt to top off the look. I also put on a green tie that my father used to wear. Pulling my hair into pigtails, I see a little bowl, placed upside down, on the table in the kitchen. Under the bowl, which was used to protect it from thieving, snobby cats, lay a small goat cheese wrapped in basil leaves. Crona's gift to me for Reaping Day. I carefully place the cheese in my pocket as I sneak outside. Crona can take care of herself, and she's got Blair and Ragnarok.
Our part of Sector 12 is usually loaded with Soul miners off to work at this time. Tons of men and women with large muscles and busted knuckles, who have given up on trying to clean the dirt and dust from under their broken fingernails. But today, the dark streets are empty. On each little house, all the openings to the outside world are closed. The Reaping is this afternoon; families are trying to sleep while they can.
Our house is near the edge of the Sector. I only have to walk a few blocks to reach the scruffy old field on the outskirts of town. The town and field are split apart by a large, chain-link fence with barbed wire on top. The fence is supposed to be electrified twenty-four hours a day as a deterrent to the madness; pre-kishins and such that used to threaten our streets. Now we only get about two or three hours of electricity a day, so it's usually safe to touch. Either way, I always listen for a hum that means the fence is on. Right now, it's as silent as the grave.
Flattening a few bushes, I lie down on my stomach and slip under a two foot stretch in the fence that's been loose for years. Several other spots in the fence are weak, but I enter the field here because it's so close to home. As soon as I'm in, I walk through a secret tunnel in the nearby mountains. I grab a large scythe from a crevice before entering, and I exit on the other side to reveal a hidden forest. Powered or not, the fence has always protected Sector 12 from madness, but inside the woods, the very air is crawling with it.
There are other dangers too, such as venomous snakes, rabid beasts, and no trails to guide your way; but there's still food if you can get it. My father knew how; he even taught me a few tricks before he was killed by a pre-kishin. We couldn't even encase his soul, because it had been swallowed whole. Back then, I was only eleven. Yet five years later, I still wake up screaming.
Even though it's illegal to trespass the fence, and penalties for poaching are severe, anyone with a weapon would risk it. Sadly, most are too scared to venture out with your everyday butcher knife. My scythe is a rarity, forged by father along with some smaller ones I keep hidden in the woods, carefully wrapped in waterproof covers. He could have made some good money selling them, but if the officials found out, he would have been accused of rebelling, and executed in public.
Most of the Death Seals ignore us hunters, because they're as starving as everyone else; in fact, they may be our best customers. The idea of a rebellion in the Sector, however, would not have been allowed. In fall, a few with brave souls venture out to harvest apples, but they're always close enough to see the town, so that they could run back to the safety of Sector 12 if needed.
"Sector 12, where you can starve to Death himself in peace." I mutter under my breath, while quickly glancing over my shoulder. Even in the middle of nowhere, you're worried that someone can hear you.
When I was younger, I always scared my mother to near Death. The things I would say about the sector, and the people who ruled in a far off place called Death City. Eventually, I understood this would only get us into more trouble. So I learned to shut my mouth, and to put on a mask in order to hide my emotions and inner thoughts from everyone. I do my work quietly in school, only make small talk with others, and discuss nothing but trade in Arachnophobia, a black market where I make nearly all of my money. Even at home, where I'm more like myself, I avoid tricky topics in conversation: food shortages, the Reaping, and especially the Death Games. Crona might repeat my words, and then what?
In the woods waits the only person that I can truly be myself with. Soul "Eater" Evans. I can feel my face relaxing and my pace quickening as I climb the hill to our spot, the old communications tower. It looks kind of dull, but from the top, it overlooks a valley, and a large circle of fruit trees hides it from unwanted eyes; we're completely safe. The sight of him waiting for me on one of the poles makes me smile. It's true, as Soul says, that I only smile in the woods.
"Hey, Gregory."