/cries/ August is my busy month of packing and Band Camp. I'll try and keep the updates coming, though it's difficult. I'm ready for this story to be over.
Tonight seemed like it would be relatively uneventful.
Cerberus was holding Buck and Claire captive, but they weren't coming down anytime soon. Wiley was whittling away the time on Envy while Thimble sulked on Sloth. Zale, of course, remained in his little fortress of solitude. Sagitta had seemed like she was going out to hunt, but she wound up staying on Pride and resting instead. Perhaps she was planning a nighttime attack? Only time would tell.
At least now was the perfect time to get away. The Head Gamemaker had been handed a note by an Avox. The President wanted to speak with her in his garden. It was odd that he wanted to hold a conference at night, but she didn't dare question it. It was a good time to meet anyways. Her subordinates would keep an eye on things. They had plenty of Gamemakers constantly switching in and out. The most vital of workers rarely slept, injecting themselves with a sort of 'medicine' that kept them going for hours at a time. Coffee was also a fine necessity.
The Assistant Gamemaker was currently hopped up on drugs, alert and prepared for anything. She granted him a swift goodbye and headed out. The mansion was not far from the Gamemakers' HQ, but the Head Gamemaker had worn heels and didn't feel like walking. She had an Avox order a limo for her. Then she went down on the street where the commoners were, and waited.
Oh shoot! She thought, nearly slapping her forehead, I forgot to give the Gamemakers the okay to kill Wiley.
She had been toying with the idea of killing him for a while. It was mostly a matter of how to do it than anything else. She was leaning towards the army ants. He would be too discombobulated to escape them. Before she had come to a decision on that, she had been distracted by a number of things.
The Head Gamemaker pulled out her phone, poising her finger to message her assistant. Laziness stopped her in her tracks. Eh…I'll just let them know when I get back. She decided with a wicked smile. She wanted to be in the HQ for every single death that occurred.
And Wiley's death was imminent. They couldn't have a victor like him. Sure, it would be entertaining. He'd probably try to strangle Caesar at his crowning ceremony right before falling off the stage and cracking his skull open. That would be funny for about a second. Then they would have a major crisis on their hands. Snow would probably have her executed for it.
She shivered. Thinking about it now, most of the tributes weren't suitable to become victors. She could sense a rebellious streak in Thimble. Claire was too self-righteous and Buck had been a major letdown. When he entered the game, she was expecting him to rack up a few kills, but so far he had made zero. What a disappointment.
Zale or Sagitta deserved the win more than anyone. The Head Gamemaker was leaning towards Sagitta. Zale's awkward breakdown hadn't earned him any points with her. What reason did he have to be sad? He was still alive, wasn't he? There was something off about him. Like he wasn't quite cut out to be a Career and he was beginning to realize it.
Don't be ridiculous. He's made some kills. He'd be a fine victor, She decided with a nod, But Sagitta is the top choice. I need to let the other Gamemakers know this when I return. Ugh. Where on earth is that limo?
"It's you! It's really you! Oh, we're such big fans of your arenas!"
The Head Gamemaker looked up to see a woman with two young children approaching her. Passerby on the street had been casting awed glances her way for the past few minutes. It was only a matter of time until someone stopped to chat.
"Can we get a picture with you?" The little boy asked, eyes shining with excitement. The roots of his hair were dark, but the rest of it had been sloppily dyed blonde. Probably in honor of Zale.
The Head Gamemaker grinned. She loved her fans, and little ones were always a joy to be around. "Of course you can!"
Both kids got on either side of her and she kneeled down, wrapping her arms around their shoulders. Their mother was wriggling with joy as she repeatedly snapped photos of them together.
The little girl, who had been shy at first, began hitting the Gamemaker with an assortment of questions. She spoke with an endearing lisp, her eyes wide and wondering. "Why awe youw eyes diffwent colahs? Why awe you wearing dose wingies? Why…?"
"Oh!" Her mother squealed, interrupting her, "Don't tell me you're planning to have surgery? I was just reading about those new wing implants in a magazine the other day!"
"That's right." The Head Gamemaker said, giving the fake wings a little shake, "I'm planning on getting bat wings after the Games are over. But the dove wings and crow wings look good too. For now, I'm just getting used to the feel. Doctors recommend wearing a fake pair for a while to see if you're ready to make the final step before implantation."
The mother was even more excited than her kids at this point. Every word the Gamemaker said enthralled her. "I heard a rumor that you add to your appearance after every Games…?" She wondered, pressing a hand to her lips as if it was some big secret.
The Head Gamemaker smiled and nodded. She was wearing a red dress with a low swoop in the back, so it was easy to point out her tattoo back there. It was an image of a Spider-Man. Its bluish-purple tentacles were grasping her shoulder, as if it were crawling over her skin.
The little boy looked at it in awe, while the little girl hid her face.
"She still has nightmares over that one boy." The mother explained, stroking her daughter's hair, "What was his name?"
"Mitch." The Head Gamemaker answered instantly. She could remember the names of all tributes that came through her arenas. No one could understand how special they were to her.
She showed them her contacts next. One red and one blue, each representing a different side of the arena in the 43rd. She was proud of her artificial heterochromia.
After this, the little ones began showing her the Hunger Games merchandise they had on them. The Head Gamemaker smiled all the way through, but still wondered what was keeping her limo. She had to be one of the most important people in Panem. Why would they keep her waiting like this?!
"Demon woman!"
Both children stopped talking at once, goggling past the Head Gamemaker. She blinked and looked over her shoulder to see an old woman standing there, pointing an accusing finger at her.
"Spawn of Satan!" She croaked, all of her fury directed at the Gamemaker.
"Hey! Just who do you think you're talking to?" The Head Gamemaker said, arching an eyebrow. She looked to her fans for support, but the mother was hurriedly rushing her children away, looking pretty freaked out. Gee, thanks for all your support. She thought dryly.
"I know exactly who I'm talking to." The old woman growled. She spat at the Gamemaker's feet.
The young woman recoiled in horror. This commoner had nearly gotten saliva on her expensive shoes! How dare she!
In the next instant, the old woman was right up in her face, saying, "How dare you force your judgment on Panem! How dare you remind those poor people of what they lost!"
"What are you talking about?" The Head Gamemaker stuttered, backing away. She was seriously regretting not grabbing a bodyguard before leaving the premise.
"Don't play dumb! You think you're being cute, having all of that religious symbolism in the arena? You arranged those gravestones in a way that suggests those poor tributes went to specific circles of hell! And as if that's not enough, you brought back their voices too." The old woman was choking on her words, tears forming in her eyes.
She's insane. An absolute loon. The Head Gamemaker thought, forcing a nervous laugh. "I have no idea what you're talking about!" She lied.
A dark glare cast over the old woman's features, drying any sign of tears. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. And you will burn for your sins! You will face the same judgment you forced onto these poor souls."
The limo finally pulled up as the old woman finished her speech. What timing. The Head Gamemaker opened her mouth to get the last word, but the crone was already hobbling away. Hopefully headed to the nearest insane asylum. The Head Gamemaker couldn't believe Capitolites like that existed. If they loved the districts so much, they should just go live there with the other savages.
But she wouldn't deny the old woman's words had hurt her pride. The Head Gamemaker sulked during the short ride over to Snow's mansion, despising what had gone down. It completely ruined her night! Perhaps Snow could restore her confidence, though she seriously doubted it. He wasn't one to hand out praise recklessly. The limo drove her inside the walls of the mansion and dropped her off out front. She circled around back, heading towards the garden.
It was strangely dark. The string of lights that hung over the garden had not been turned on. Tall hedgerows loomed ominously before her. Flowers appeared as colorless shapes. Only Snow's healthy, white roses stood out in the gloom.
Something told the Head Gamemaker to go back. Hairs rose on the back of her neck. A bad feeling caused her stomach to clench. But she couldn't keep the President waiting. She stepped into the garden.
Only a soft ping could be heard as the bullet found its target. The young woman crumpled, dead before she even hit the ground. A spot of blood shone in the darkness, nestled in her hair. Her eyes were open and glazed with death. Judgment had descended sooner than she ever could have imagined.
Her assassin, dressed as a simple Avox, walked away without a backwards glance.
Hours later, the Capitol was in an uproar. But not because of the Head Gamemaker's untimely death. Her death would go unnoticed by the masses. The government would keep it under wraps from the public. Gamemakers came and went all the time. No one would miss her.
No, the Capitol was more concerned with the events unfolding in the Hunger Games at the moment. Only a handful stayed up into the late hours of the night to watch it. It had to be nearly 4 AM when the disturbance happened. The night owls woke up their families and shouted out their windows for everyone to turn their TV on.
The unthinkable had happened.
RIP Head Gamemaker. How many of you realized the Head Gamemaker was a sort-of self-insert, older, more sadistic version of myself (besides those of you I told of course)? Because let's face it…I'm totally in that position regarding the story. I guess that means you all are the Capitol folks, sponsoring the tributes and eager to see some bloodshed! Heheh. And yes, I totally just killed myself off. So I can't write another of these. What a shame.
With that, we're approaching our climax! The next chapter is crazy long. Better prepare yourselves for it.