Nettle
Cruelty
Angus Allergot, District Ten Male, Eighteen
As the sun disappears beyond the horizon, the fading light is taken over by darkness. A brief twilight where both light and dark mingle before completely being taken over by the latter. Those that have welcomed the light are now settling down in their homes, protecting themselves from the dark.
Those that embrace the darkness are now outside, on the prowl, going towards their usual haunts. The patrons of the dark are not always so egregious, rather they manifest themselves at night, going about their business: good or bad.
Angus Allergot would rather stay on the good side as he wipes the bar counter clean with his dish rag. He returns the smile of an older woman in the corner, flashing her a little cheeky wink, and he can see her swoon as she takes a seat with her drink.
He wishes that he can stay with his family, to be comfortable and avoid the cover of the dark but needs must, he supposes. He cares by working hard in the bar and having hard-earned cash in his hands by the end of the week. He would do this most nights, serving the regular bar patrons, cleaning the stools and the counters and garnering tips with a cheeky smile or two.
Otherwise, his family wouldn't be able to eat. He wipes the counter closer to one of the patrons. Ms Havish sits at the end of the bar, enamoured by the boy behind the bar. His white shirt hugs his figure well as he moves about. He looks at her in the eyes, blue eyes charming her as she goes to speak but he's already working on her order, knowing full well that Ms Havish is a regular.
"One whisky on the rocks." He places the drink coaster first and then the glass containing the amber liquid, it swirls around with the ice at it does so.
He puts a pencil behind his ear and puts the bar rag over his shoulder as he cranks the tap down. Alcoholic drinks pour into large glasses as he hands them over on the counter to two people. They nod their head leaving their money on the counter. He scoops it up and puts it into his apron, tied around his waist.
"Have I ever told you that you look too good to be behind a bar counter?" He leans closer to Ms Havish as she speaks, her words slightly slurred from the amount of alcohol she has consumed.
"All the time, Ms Havish." His voice is raspy as he moves away from her all the way to the other side of the counter as more patrons walk in, beginning to take their orders.
"All the time, Ms Havish." He hears the girl at the other end of the counter mock him, and he smiles.
He was making a drink when he heard her say that. Her long curly black hair is down. Her eyes pierced into his soul. She smiles a smile that can be his undoing. He remembers those lips, soft and supple, as he hands over the drinks to the customers.
"Vodka and lemonade to start…please." He hears her whisper the 'please' as she settles down on the bar stool opposite the alcohol taps. "Are you just naturally flirty or are you trying to get the tips in?"
"I will have you know that Ms Havish is a very lovely woman, who had been jilted at the altar several times." He defends the older woman who has now fallen asleep, the whisky glass in her hand.
"Were you one of those handsome men?" She says taking the vodka lemonade into her hand, downing it in one go.
"Jealous?" He says as he gets back to work pouring another vodka lemonade for her. He slides the drink over to her, placing a nice slice of lemon on top of the ice. "Didn't peg you as the type."
"And what is your type?" She says sipping the drink, slowly this time, then making a face as she looks at him. "This needs more vodka by the way."
"I think you should slow down on the drinking." He says pouring just a bit more vodka into her glass.
"Why? You don't want a repeat of last night?" She says and Angus stifles a laugh placing the white cloth over his shoulder again as he leans closer to her. "You never answered my question."
"That's for me to know-"
"And for me to find out…again." She smirks sipping the drink in her hand, slowly and sultry to entice Angus.
The way she smiles and the way her eyebrows wiggle at him suggestively is going to be his downfall again as he tries his best to ignore her advances. Although he'll give it another hour or two before she hits on him again. She's lonely, like Ms Havish, and if Angus can be that one support system for her, then so be it, but he has to work first.
He leaves her be for now as she laughs at him trying to leave. He serves a few more patrons and speaks to those that seemed down on their luck. Angus has never made many friends growing up, always focusing on his family first, mainly his brother.
He likes the bar, however, and its many different patrons. He likes to speak to them, listen to their trials and tribulations, the odd occasional good and bad tale too. He listens to them all and they are all willing to speak their minds.
Sometimes he likes to write poetry about them, using their experiences to put words onto paper. He's not good, admittedly, but he likes to do it when the bar is not busy. He looks towards the girl again, her hand held up trying to get his attention.
"Another one?" He asks, that's three in less than an hour.
"Just pour me another one, and don't be cheap with the vodka this time." She smiles.
They have established this sort of relationship over time, flirtatious encounters, but never really going far, that is until the night before when he was caught up in his own misery that he too started drinking, after the bar closed, and she happened to be there all suggestive.
One thing led to another and he was waking up to the girl trying to leave. He hand handed her the necklace that's sitting pretty around her neck again. She had said it was family matters and he understood immediately. He puts another lemon on top of the drink and places it in front of her.
"Thank you." She says, a brief sadness turns into a smile again as she looks at him, flashing him suggestive eyebrows yet again. "Continuing our conversation…"
She takes a sip just as Angus returns the same expression, but his eyes seem transfixed at something as he sees the other sets of doors to The Golden Nugget saloon open up. He doesn't even hear her speak as his mind goes blank, two people he does not particularly like, had just walked into the bar.
Angus puts the rag over his shoulder once again, leaving the girl as she keeps talking; he will apologise later. His focus is now on the two men that have just deiced to take a seat close to the entrance. He leaves the comfort of his bar area, the girl he was speaking to scoffing as he ignores her now.
He passes by both regular and not-so-regular patrons on the way over, some regards him and others ask for more drinks. He just apologises to them as he sidesteps past them. He walks, calmly, his hands balled into fists as he makes it to the table.
"Gentlemen." He starts as he put both hands in front of him, one hand squeezing the other. "What are you doing here?"
"Mr Allergot." Colin, the older of the two men, with his greying beard and equally greying hair speaks first, leaning over the table with a grin. "It's fight night."
"I think you got the dates wrong." He narrows his eyes looking at them both, his face unchanging, politely but quietly seething. "My contract states that I fight every Friday. Last thing I remember it is in fact Monday."
"A Reaping day special," Colin says taking out a rolled cigarette from his pocket and striking a match to light it. "Did your little brother not tell you about this?"
Angus takes the cigarette off his mouth and stubs it on the table. He makes a mental note to hide this from Joe, his boss, later. He maintains the same piercing blue eye contact as he speaks. "I did not agree to that."
Chris, the younger of the two laughs as he leans forward. "Kid, we own you now, there's no escaping this contract, might we remind you that we know where your precious family live?"
Angus can only grit his teeth. He gives the two men a glare. The Silver Spurs is what they call themselves. A notorious gang circulating Ten. Citizens tend to avoid them, and rightly so. However, his brother, Dexter, in good faith had struck a deal with them.
He had just wanted to help his family because he was feeling guilty about Angus always doing the work. Angus had stepped in to help when an altercation happened during one of the jobs, and now he fights for them every Friday in some underground fighting pit; to pay for the damages Dexter had caused.
"Well, Mr Allergot?" Colin looks at him, grinning slyly. "What will it be?"
"Just give me five and meet me outside." He says through gritted teeth.
The men nod their heads, standing from the seat, chair scraping the wooden floors. They leave just as fast as they came in, Angus standing there with a faux smile on his face as various patrons look at him. He needs to keep a good face to these people, he doesn't want to drum up bad business.
He takes a deep breath and sighs. He returns back to the bar. Joe, the bar owner, is working behind the counter now as he looks Angus in the eye, concern on his face. "What's wrong, lad?"
"I need to go for a bit, Joe." He says taking his apron off and taking a small back from behind the counter. The girl he was speaking to earlier was nowhere to be seen now.
"I know them folk, son." He says looking him up and down. "Don't you be involving yourself with them now"
"I'll be back before closing to help clean up." He says putting the rucksack over one shoulder.
"You're not thinking of going with them are you?" He says shock on his face.
"As I said, Joe, I'll be back before closing."
Ilia Orloff, District One Female, Eighteen
The sky twinkles slightly, the stars coming out to play as the night sky takes over. Dusk brings about the night blanketing the sky like black smoke. The stars peek out from the darkness, twinkling like diamonds as they watch over the people down below partaking in the night's festivities.
The Reaping Gala is a celebration for those that volunteer for the Games. The Virgos family hosted the most extravagant of parties, year after year. They host it mostly to flex their power and their wealth but to also celebrate the Capitol.
Ilia Orloff stands at the very back of the massive ballroom, champagne in hand, leaning against the back walls and watching the party unravel in front of her. She takes a sip of the bitter liquid, scrunching her face as she places it back on a passing tray.
Richard Virgos, standing in an expensive-looking three-piece suit, begins his speech. A glass of sparkling alcohol in a slim flute in his hand as he smiles, pearly white teeth on full display to his guests. This isn't much to Ilia's style, not really, as she continues to blend into the background, despite several looks of amazement of what could be a future victor of the Games.
Ilia tunes out the speech and claps when everyone else does so, signifying the end of Mayor Virgos' speech. The music begins to play again, sweet melodious notes swirling amongst the chatter of the guests; daring anyone to dance in its music.
"Are we enjoying ourselves?" Her father, Innes, says sipping the champagne and also scrunching his face at the taste; he was never a champagne person, he looks at Ilia. "It is in your honour after all."
"All of this?" She gestures to the whole ballroom. "For death?"
Her father stifles a laugh as he finishes the rest of his drink in one go. He does humour her a little by looking around the massive space beyond them. Whilst they encouraged her to volunteer for the Games, after being offered the position, they have never really asked her what she thought of it.
Ilia will have to admit that the Hunger Games have never really taken an interest in her life. She had never been to actively seek the glorification of everything related to it, but she excelled in more ways than one at Beacon, enough to be picked as the prime volunteer.
She rolled with the notion, considering and weighing the pros and cons before saying that she will. Her life here in One is not that spectacular. She wants to get out of the mundane life she leads, although that's not to say that her life is anything by boring or unspectacular in regards to the normal person.
"I don't think me or even the male volunteer would appreciate being paraded around before our possible deaths." She says crossing her arms at her father who just smiles and places a strong hand on her shoulder.
"Ilia, dear, " He says putting on a smile. "Talk less and smile more."
He continues by gesturing to the room filled with the best of the best district One can offer. "All of this is for you, and for us."
"Yeah, sis, this is good for business." Iago, her brother, appears from beside her as he takes another canape from a passing waiter shoving the food into his mouth, then proceeding to speak. "If I had known a party this big would be thrown for me if I had volunteered for the Games, then I would have done it."
"Feel free to take my place." She smiles at her brother, then scans the crowd, her eyes locking with the male volunteer, Cal Acheron, on the other side of the massive ballroom, she raises her glass and the boy awkwardly does so as well.
Iago just scoffs at her comment and instead points at one of their potential targets for tonight's festivities. She directs her attention toward Royce Virgos, the mayor's eldest son who had recently started his own jewellery business. He had happened to 'borrow' some diamonds from the Orloff family.
Royce Virgos is a clever man, she understands this, but the Orloffs remember things, they keep a pristine record of their business, meticulous eyes read over them every day, and unlucky for Mr Virgos they had noticed that he had not paid his debt for the diamonds.
"Let's go pay the Virgos golden child a visit," Iago tells Ilia and she just nods and follows along. Normally arranging a meeting with someone this high up in the hierarchy of One is hard, but considering this party is in her honour, they decide to attack.
The Orloff Diamonds are rare, they shine differently, a clear diamond with a slightly darker hue to it. They look special, and the Orloffs hide the fact that they're smuggled into the district. Blood diamonds are what most people would call it, her father paying cheaply for the diamonds from Twelve, and then selling them for more profit to jewellers not only here in One but in the Capitol in a few instances.
Iago takes the lead, he always does in these situations, Ilia is normally the muscle when it comes to operations. They swim through the crowd of elites, pushing past all the laughter and cheers. Ilia nods and make nice to those that would stop her and congratulate her for volunteering. She fakes a smile here and there before they reach Royce.
"Mr Virgos!" Iago practically shouts, a charismatic voice coming out. The man turns around seeing them both, and he smiles holding his hands out wide.
"Ah! Iago and Ilia Orloff!" His excitement was there as he looks between the two of them. "A very big congratulations again Ms Orloff."
"Thank you, Mr Virgos," Ilia says politely as he lets Iago take the lead.
"Judging from the look of you, Iago, you want something from me." He says, eyes narrowing slightly. "What can I do for you?"
"We were hoping you'd come and speak to us somewhere quieter?" Iago says looking around, the crowd dispersing somewhat.
He looks between the two of them, a bit of confusion on his face before nodding his head. "Lead the way."
Ilia can see that his guard is up, but he humours them walking through the crowds, the music is in full bloom now and the chattering seems to be getting louder as they make their way to the exit. She feels the cool summer air hit her immediately and suddenly she feels like she can breathe better. The music fades quietly behind them as they walk down a small path towards the garden.
The dusk-filled sky paints everyone in a darker light. The siblings blend into the darker shade with their black tuxedo and dress respectively. She watches as Royce takes a cigarette from the inside of his pocket followed by a lighter. She can hear the clicking, the small flame illuminating him for a brief moment as he lights the cigarette.
"Now what can I do for you?" He says taking a long drag of the cigarette and then exhaling the smoke through his nose.
"We've had a look at our accounts." Iago starts to pick at his nails as he speaks, the darkness hiding his face. "And we've noticed that your payments have not gone through."
"And what of it?" He says exhaling out more smoke, Ilia swatting it away. "You'll get the money when you get it."
She can see her brother flash her a look, and she rolls her eyes once again. He had always relied on Ilia to be some form of an aggressor, stepping forwards toward the mayor's son. He eyes her slightly but he just takes another drag of the cigarette as Iago speaks.
"I think you misunderstood us." Iago continues, and that's when Ilia takes the cigarette out of his mouth throwing it on the ground and then stomping on it with her high heels.
Ilia takes a hold of the man's shoulders with both her hands before delivering a sharp knee to his stomach. She watches as the air is knocked out of him. He looks at her with a mixture of shock and horror, she can tell that he did not expect that surprise violence.
"What the fuck?!" He says clutching at his stomach, beginning to groan. "Do you not know who I am?"
Ilia grabs him by the shoulders again and delivers the same knee to his stomach. He doubles over in pain as he clutches his stomach even more. He looks up to see Ilia, her face is covered by the darkness, masking her facial features.
"Mr Virgos, I think you forget who we are," Iago says as he steps closer.
Ilia drags the man up to his feet intent on delivering another hit on him but she stops when the bushes nearby rustled. They all stop to look at the foliage moving, and Ilia raises an eyebrow at the person emerging from it. The boy fixes his bow tie right before he notices Ilia and the rest of them.
Cal, his future district partner, stands there, eyes wide in shock. The fancy suit he wears is dishevelled as another boy comes from behind him. He smiles at Cal but stops smiling as they see Ilia holding the mayor's son in her hands. She looks between the two of them, her eyebrows still raised.
"Are they going to be a problem?" Iago says to Ilia.
"No."
She says as she delivers another hit to the man's stomach, Cal and whomever this person he was with leaves quickly.
Sora Higurashi, District Twelve Male, Seventeen
In the cover of the fading daylight lies a killer. Hidden away in the darkening foliage, eyes sharp and observant watching, waiting. The dusk-filled sky is a perfect background for those with intent to kill; predators to their prey, patient and unrelenting.
When most would be settling down to sleep in their beds, or be gathered in their sitting room speaking to one another about the day's events, he was on the prowl. His dark amber eyes flickered to the homes and streets of the charmer quarters, the knife in his hand glistening momentarily.
Sora Higurashi is on the hunt for someone. His prey has long flowing black hair, the very same one that reminds him of her. He tightens his grip on the knife as her memory rises to the surface. He takes a breathy sigh, steadying himself as she settles the rage that's building up.
Aura.
He tuts to himself for thinking of the name. He wants to mentally hit himself but someone distracts him just before he could physically do it. His lackey, Dean Esposito, is currently out in the streets looking for their next target; wandering the outskirts of the Merchant Quarters of Twelve.
His latest victim is Ashleigh Cordova, the smug girl that lives just outside of the Merchant Quarters. She had presented herself to the hairdressers that Sora worked in demanding him as her stylist, herring that he was a prodigy when it comes to something like that.
He had refused.
Her black hair reminded him too much of Aura, his ex-girlfriend that had died in the Hunger Games last year. She had broken up with him prior to her being Reaped. He had expressed his anger, although he had managed to control himself at that moment. He cannot help the black void in his heart from forming. He had vowed to never touch a girl with black hair ever again after that.
Instead, he had devoted himself to killing them, to satiate the missed opportunity of doing the very same deed toward Aura. His black heart aches for the feeling of personally ending her. The hurt is there, and he feeds it every now and then since then.
His plan has been flawless so far. He had been successful, always getting away with the murder because he was never the last person to see them, refusing to cut their hair at that moment. It's an alibi that he has tried and worked.
Dean strides beside him. He is panting as he kneels beside Sora. He speaks with reluctance that had always annoyed Sora. "She's heading this way."
"Good." He says unable to mask the smile appearing on his face as he holsters the knife to his leg.
"Do you have to wear that outfit all the time?" Dean asks still trying to regain his breath.
Sora looks at him, more glare, as he continues to tuck the knife away from view using some of the dress to cover it up, away from the view of his prey. The white dress represents the purity of those he's about to kill, every one of the dresses that he had worn has this black heart sewn on the chest, representing his anguish.
"Yes." He says to him with a hiss. "It protects my identity."
The white dress draws away attention from him. No one would ever suspect a boy to wear a dress and kill other younger girls. The Peacekeepers never had a clue every time he had killed someone. He leaves the body wearing the white dress that he now wears. The legend of the White Lady arose from the murders.
"Here she comes!" Dean says whispering a little too loudly, the panic arising in his voice.
He watches as the girl in question enters his line of sight. She's currently reading some music sheets, carrying her musical instrument. She's approaching the edges of the Merchant Quarters, the cover of the night fast approaching. She will not notice him until it's too late.
Sora leaps into action from behind the foliage. White dress glowing in the darkening sky, his dress flowing. She didn't get a moment to react when he struck her from behind her head. He watches as she stops, putting her hand instinctively to her head, dropping the sheets of music and her musical instrument.
She panics slightly as sees Dean approach her. She is about to scream when Dean covers her mouth with some form of cloth, preventing her from making any sounds. She begins to struggle against Dean and Sora delivers another hit to the back of her head to disorient her. Ashleigh's eyes drift close as she loses consciousness, her body going limp. Sora catches her and he eyes Dean who takes her feet.
They carry her body through the forests, under the cover of darkness and trees. Dean keeps panicking and muttering to himself, but Sora just smiles, almost feeling some form of excitement from it all, daring himself a little giggle as they carry her. They arrive just at the edge of the forest, a path leading towards a close coal mine. They settle her down on the ground just close to the forest.
He couldn't contain himself as he slips his hand into his dress, taking the knife out. The white dress he's wearing glowing with little glints of light. The trigger of her long luscious black hair made him excited and mad. He flashes an eye toward Dean, seeing that same inner turmoil in his eyes as he begins to tear up.
Weak.
Their target is slowly regaining her consciousness. Her face focuses first on Dean and then on Sora. Her sweet-looking face turned to twisted horror at the sight of Sora in a white dress. They take the gag from her mouth as she begins to scream at the top of her lungs. Sora twisted his face and stepped on her chest, knocking the air out of her.
"W-what are you doing to do to me?" She says regaining her breath, her voice trembling, and then looking at Dean. "Please…Please let me go!"
"I'm afraid that's not up for debate," Sora tells her as he brandishes the knife.
Her screams penetrate his head. Dean panics even more looking towards the centre of the district. The Peacekeepers wouldn't be long now. She covers her mouth and Sora thanks him in his head for doing something useful for once. He kneels beside her. Sora giggled beside Ashleigh, her panicked eyes pouring tears.
"Goodbye, Aura." He says to himself as he holds the knife above her heart. "See you in hell!"
He plunges the knife straight through her chest. She is dead within seconds of the knife entering her body. The life fading out from her eyes, she stops fighting Dean, her body going limp. Blood begins to seep out from the wound, staining her clothes.
"Must you always do that?" Dean looks away from him.
Sora's post-killing ritual is to take the white dress off and put them on his victims. He ignores Dean as he begins to put the dress on Ashleigh's corpse. Dean gagged as he fastens the button, trying not to get blood over his hands.
"To answer your question, again and again, it's to send her a message." He says to Dean, in his underwear. "She broke my heart so I must break hers."
He takes a step back from his handiwork. He places her hand over the patchwork heart. Her eyes are closed and peaceful. The crimson blood stains the white dress. Dean looks past him and panics again, and Sora rolls his eyes. He turns around to find that Peacekeepers are making their way over.
Sora takes off, leaving Dean behind in the aftermath, as he always does. He runs towards the forest, trying to look out for Peacekeeper as their slow walk to investigate the screaming turns into a light jog. He didn't care about leaving Dean, he always gets an out, because he's spineless and he could never commit true murder.
He leaves the safety of the bushes as he enters the Seam. He bumps into drunkards in the cover of the night, and then into other Peacekeepers. He stops momentarily. They look at him up and down, wondering why he's in his underwear.
Sora just gives an excuse to say he had just met up with his ex-girlfriend and regretted it. They laugh at him as they pat him on the shoulder leaving him behind to stand. He watches their retreating form. He sighs relief when they leave.
He knows that they'll catch him eventually, but for now he wants to keep doing what he's doing until the void in his heart gets filled.
Uri Fukuro, District Three Male, Eighteen
TW/Scenes of Sexual Nature
The dusky sky is a beauty to behold. Dark sheets travel over the sky like a blanket tucking in a child for the night. The hours leading to a calm night in Three sit still and quiet. The skies cleared up from the day's factory smoke. The lights turned off and dimmed, showing the vast night sky.
The sky is filled with many stars tonight; all sparkling at him. He takes a moment and smiles, looking up at the sky. In his head, he knows what a star is; giant gas balls light years away from where he stands. However, he liked to think these are the friends that his sister has, and what he had given her.
Uri Fukuro remembers his sister very well. He can feel her soft face, caressing it with his thumb, his head dipping down to kiss her forehead gently. The kiss helps after a rough day, of which there were many. She was always there for him, and him for her.
He sighs wistfully. He misses her, he misses those days. His sister was the only person that ever understood him. They loved each other, a feeling that transcended past brothers and sisters. He feels a gentle breeze caress his face and he holds onto his cheek.
He had wished that things were different. He did not expect her to be reaped for the Games and subsequently killed two years ago. She had died early on; friendless and alone. He hated that, he felt a deep regret at the sight of her body laying on the ground covered in blood.
So he decided back then that he would help her gain friends in the afterlife. He would wander the streets of Three from the richer areas all the way to the more impoverished areas, searching, looking for grinds that he deemed worthy to keep her company in the great expanse of the sky above him.
She will truly be happy with that.
"Uri, darling, we're ready for you." A gentle voice echoes from the room, into the night air, followed by soft giggles from another person.
Uri stares at the sky for a few more seconds before turning around. He eyes the two ladies on the bed, sprawled naked on the soft red velvet sheets. The room is bare, safe for a few hooks and loops to tie ropes. This brothel specialises in more technique-heavy activities.
The Brothel of Bondage is the place where he frequents quite often, becoming a regular quite fast. He is popular amongst many of the women that work here, as well as some men. With his good looks and somewhat amazing stamina, Uri became the favourite when he would visit.
He looks at the women on the bed, their eyes dilated with lust as they smile hungrily at him. He mimics their expression, slowly undressing, untying the red velour robe and exposing himself. He can see them lick their lips as the heavy robe falls on the floor with a thud.
His naked form in full view of the open window, the dusky light making his features obscured making the hungry eyes even hungrier. Uri approaches them, walking slowly towards them, each step building the anticipation, making their hearts beat faster and faster, the excitement building.
Their giggles fill the air as his knees fall on the soft bed. The women ready themselves, putting both hands together above their heads. He traces his hands over their skin, soft and smooth. He hears them moan from his touch as he traces small circles over their bodies.
He leans in closer to one of them, lips just hovering over hers making her whimper as he backs away. He takes the rope from the side of the table unravelling them and using the poster of the bed to tie their hands and feet. Their whimpers are music to his ears. Uri bends down to kiss their necks moving his way down to intensify their pleasure.
Their laughter and giggles turn into moans of pleasure, his lips continuing their assault on the women. He can hear them enjoying themselves all tied up to the bed. He smiles as he kisses them; feeling them squirm underneath making him excited as well.
"Are you ready?" He says staring at them intently, eyes hooded, the smile on his face small and hungry. "Ready to feel good?"
They both nod eagerly, both talking incoherently and at the same time. The pleasure he had given them already affected their minds. He crawls towards their chest reaching over to the nightstand again to take the candle. The red wax swirls within the glass containing it.
He starts to drip it over the girl on the right, the hot wax falling on delicate skin, the burn feeling good as her moan intensifies and becomes louder. She groans as he continues to drip the wax on her. Her pain gives him the pleasure he seeks.
The girl on the left squirms feeling left out and Uri just smirks. He moves towards her, dripping the wax down on her stomach and chest. Her moan is just as loud as the girl on the right, their moans mingling together in the room, echoing in his head. He watches the rope go taut over their heads, the pain-filled pleasure moving the bed slightly.
"Is that all?" The voice in his head comes to life. His sister, Koiru, manifests himself beside the bed. She's wearing the white dress she often wears seemingly flowing endlessly as if a gentle breeze is perpetually blowing towards her. "You know we've done worst things than that."
"Yes." He says as he goes to pour the entire contents of the glass over the girl on the right, he could immediately hear the pleasure sounds turn into painful cries as the wax burns red hot against the exposed skin.
"That's more like it."
Koiru says, his eyes following her as she moves towards the girl on the left. He flicks his eyes towards the girl laying on the bed, her moans have stopped and is now looking at him nervously after his actions. He watches his sister trace a hand over to the girl's neck.
"What about this one?"
"I'll make them feel good for you." He whispers as he looks down at the girl on the left, his hand replaces Koiru's.
He feels himself tighten around her neck. He squeezes tighter and tighter, feeling how hard the neck really is in contrast to their supple skin. His knuckles shake and turn white as the girl begins to thrash about pulling at the ropes trying to free herself but she is unable. He leans into her, kissing her face then her lips, his ears hearing the faint choking sounds desperately trying to scream.
"That feels good Uri," Koiru says in his ear, whispering sensually. "Come on, brother, tighter."
He complies as he squeezes his hardest at the neck. He looks at the other girl, panic on her face at the sight of what is going on. Uri pours more of the wax to hear her painful cries, using that to spur him along. He returns to the girl he's choking, tightening the grip once again.
"Stop! You're killing her, please."
The girl on the right begs in between groans, the burning feeling no longer fun for her. She's trying to free herself pulling wildly at the ropes above her head but it's no use, Uri has practised his rope tying from a young age. The girl under Uri's grasp begins to turn a different shade as the air becomes thin around her.
"Please, I beg of you!"
Uri doesn't listen, ignoring the girl now as he focuses his attention on the girl. He looks her directly in the eye, shutting slowly, the sparkle fading like the daylight earlier. Her face turning a purple shade much like the sky, he leans to kiss her lips once more, his face twisting into pleasure as the girl's life fades away and her body goes limp.
The other girl breaks him from his stupor as she screams the room down until her voice is hoarse, her eyes flicking between Uri and her now dead colleague. She tries to move again pulling at the ropes at both ends but to no avail. He could see the fear in her eyes as she tries to scramble away from him.
"She has gone to see my sister." He says, out of breath, the sweat pouring off him now after that intense feeling. "I must ask a favour from you now if that is alright."
"Fuck you!" The other girl practically spits at him, the fear in her eyes present.
"Now, now." He says, voice monotone, returning from such a high. "I like you, her too."
"Y-you killed her!" She shouts at him.
"I did it for my sister." He says snaking his hands up to the girl's neck, she screams some more but soon quietens down as he squeezes her neck. "Now, the favour. Will you look after my sister when you're with her?"
He uses both hands this time, her face going blue and then purple faster than the other girl. He could see her eyes bulging as he squeezes hard. His knuckle turns white as the grip tightens, his entire body shaking from both the action and the pleasure he's feeling once again. He can see her eyes fading fast and as the girl breathes her last, he sighs letting go of her limp body now.
"My brother," Koiru says climbing on the bed with him. "How lovely of you to give me more friends, but our time is running out."
"What will you have me do, my sweet sister?"
"The Hunger Games, Uri." She says. "I want friends from the Hunger Games."
"Your wish is my command."
A/N - What is this? A consistent update from me? Unbelievable, right? This chapter is a bit iffy, and it can make people very uncomfortable, so if you stop from here then that's fine, thank you for reading and taking your time to actually read.
If you've decided to stay for the ride, then grab a pew, we're going to need it to pray for our sins.
A big thank you tho to FireflyLlamafor Angus; my-mental-mind for Ilia; Revenant12 for Sora; and ladyqueerfoot for Uri
Do I have news? I don't think so, but we're officially out of the Introduction chapters! Woo! As promised I have all the cards that I've drawn for every character. And I will now list them all here:
Lily-Rose - Four of Pentacles (Reversed)
Briar - Six of Wands (Upright)
Riley - Strength (Upright)
Mallory - Four of Wands (Upright)
Azrael - Ace of Swords (Upright)
Domitian - Seven of Pentacles (Upright)
Tullio - The World (Reversed)
Rink - Ten of Swords (Reversed)
Tyra - Three of Pentacles (Reversed)
Cal - The Moon (Upright)
Dylan - Two of Pentacles (Reversed)
Ziva - Four of Cups (Reversed)
Ancartha - The Hierophant (Reversed)
Adrastea - King of Swords (Reversed)
Amorette - Five of Swords (Upright)
Juniper - Eight of Cups (Reversed)
Angus - Page of Swords (Upright)
Ilia - Death (Reversed)
Sora - The Hierophant (Upright)
Uri - Ace of Swords (Reversed)
What do these mean? (It's a secret) It's not really, so to plan the Intros, I drew a card and the card dictated what events would happen, if it's a good one or a bad one, or something relating to their backstory or whatever. Most of the cards really matched the tributes and others I struggled a little bit, but it's all good.
I think the next update is a little subplot type? Or maybe I'll just dive into Reapings. I have no idea lol
Cheers!
~Alec
