[Day Five, The Hunger Games, 61 A.D.D]
He'd been sleeping fitfully, haunted by dreams of a better life, in the lee side of a dune when the voices washed over him. Groggily blinking himself awake even as he gripped the haft of the spear he favoured, Harkin smirked in vengeful delight as the girls from 6, 11, 9 and the boys from 9 and 6 stumbled over the crest of the dune. The girls from 6 and 11 had tripped and rolled down the side, their fellows laughed at their clumsiness.
It would be the last thing they ever did.
Leaping up, Harkin snarled viciously as he thrust the double leaf blade of his spear through the chest of Girl 6, while 11 watched and screamed, her face coated in her friends life blood. Spinning around, avoiding a hastily shot arrow, Harkin swung his spear around and sliced through 11's throat and then flung the spear over hand, planting it between the shoulder blades of the fleeing Boy 6.
2 and 3, who had been asleep next to him, watched as Harkin was tackled by the enraged figure of Boy 9. It did him little good. Harkin snatched the knife from the boys grip and shoved it brutally up and out the Boy 9's neck, severing his spinal chord.
The Girl from 9 backed away, sobbing pathetically as she watched the blood covered Harkin approach, a bloody knife cradled in one hand. Gently he took her neck and smiled, pulling her into a soft kiss that made her sob all the harder. She exhaled quietly as his blade sank into her soft skinned belly, and with a brutal tug, dragged up up until it hit her sternum with a 'thunk', the blade piercing her diaphragm and the bottoms of her left lung. She slid backwards, tears still leaking from her eyes while blood bubbled from her lips as her chest pooled with blood.
Had she not been covered in slick, red liquid, it would almost look like she was sleeping.
And still, Harkin smiled.
[End Part Seven]
