The stinging metallic tinge of crimson stains my taste buds; it is the only flavor I can now register. Once ones teeth sink into the smooth satin flesh of a fellow human being, nothing else compares. After one drop it leaves you begging for more, captivating you as its prisoner.
That is all I am now; a prisoner to its toxic flavors. It's like a bitter sweet addiction, something that I can no longer escape; something I do not want to turn my back to. I can no longer live without it; I can no longer live without the sensation of another's blood coursing through my body, soaking into the walls of my flesh.
As I glance down at my bloodstained hands I know I wasn't always this way. I was molded by the fires of hell, through the life I was forced to live through. One's mind can only take so much before it is pushed over the edge into a never ending oblivion. My mind snapped years ago, but it is here in the arena my true colors came out to play. It is here in the arena I embraced what it was I was capable of becoming.
This monster as I have been labelled as is one who will haunt your nightmares for forever more. The boy of District 6 who lost himself to the horrors of crimson that fell around him; if only they knew my true story. If only they knew who they were truly dealing with. I am not something created by the Capitol, but something created by my own will. This is what I am and I will not change for anyone or anything.
The chilling wind sends frosty claws of ice raking down my spine, as twilight slowly begins to fall upon the arena, but here I remain hidden in the brilliant white snow; the brilliant white snow that has been stained with splatters of scarlet. They spread out across the crystal clear snow looking like shattered stain glass. As I stand fresh crimson rolls off the tips of my fingers and I relish in this sensation.
I know they are watching me; trying to formulate what move I'll make next, but that is only for me to know. Secrets are something that I treasure dearly. That air of mystery is one that is desirable, as prey is always drawn to it; like an innocent butterfly to a bright light. If only that butterfly knew it was about to be tangled in my vicious web. This web is one that once you are caught there is no turning back. Once one is caught one will become nothing more than another victim to lose their life to the razor pointed tips of my teeth.
My eyes dance around my surroundings appearing to be tinged scarlet along their outlines. Scarlet goes hand in hand with insanity; both concepts that I will greet with arms spread wide. I chose to be this way, I chose to rise from the ashes, and I chose not to let them get the better of me. They think they have created me, but they couldn't be further from the truth.
The truth is something that no longer exists in this world we call Panem. Lies are something that slips off our tongues, as if it were easier than breathing. Not a single effort must be involved which works in my favor. I used to enjoy luring in my prey with captivating words, but now my patience for games such as that has vanished, forever more to be lost amongst the howls of the wind that screeches like an unseen beast through the trees.
Through my eyes everything is stained red; what an alluring color it is, the same color of my sweet addiction. The snap of a twig is what draws me out of my blood stained haven. One snap is all it could take for one to take that step closer to their untimely demise; a demise that I would never walk freely into. They want to sweep me to the side, but I refuse to be broken. I refuse to crumble beneath the pressure and the pain. I will not be another tribute to have their lifeless bodies splayed out across the flawless snow.
The glint of silver steel is all it takes to draw my attention. One that thinks they stand a chance against me; one I will take pleasure in devouring. I won't stop until their flesh dangles from my mouth and my skin in slick in their metallic liquid. This is how I survive; this is how I will rise to the top.
No one understands how I see the world through my eyes, but one would be scarred to see how I see. The horrors that run rampant past my vision like wildfire are something only the strong could handle, but even then they would crumble beneath the pressure of crimson. It is something that will push you to your limits and threaten to tear you down until there is nothing left, but scraps meant for the ever hungry wolves.
To break is to give in to everything you are capable of becoming; something that I have done. I succumbed to my dark desires; I gave in. I allowed myself to be warped into a beast, a monster if you will, but I will not turn my back to what it is I am.
My brain is slowly fading, as it becomes nothing but a bleak void. A void where one single shadow walks a lonely road with seemingly no end, but if one was to reach the end what would there be left to find? My story was one that was never told. I was known as nothing more than the flesh eater of District 6. My name is Titus Andronicus and I gave into the savage that lurks like a hawk searching for prey just beneath my surface. Now it is my turn to tell my story through the eyes of a cannibal.
So there is the prologue, but let me know what you think ^^