about all the work that I’ve done to get here. Years and years of rigorous physical and mental training. A complete body transformation as I formed muscles in places I didn’t know even could. I look out at the forest in front of me. This isn’t a scrimmage, and we’re not on home turf anymore. Honor Woods is the place where all sorts of paranormal inhabit, and we’re in their territory now. No one knew exactly what we’d encounter, which is what made the Famine Festival so intriguing as a spectator sport. Overhead blimps and helicopters dotted the sky, their aerial view allowing the best shots for videography. The Famine Festival would be broadcasted all over the state, our lives simply transformed into a form of entertainment for the watching.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a mustached announcer broadcasts over a squeaking loudspeaker. “Today is the 55 th running of the Famine Festival, in which the fierce and noble Exterminators will be doing an en masse culling of the Paranormal of Honor Woods. Serpenticulm, Faewitches, Lycan, Vamps, and god-knows-what awaits our brave heroes on this date. We wish them luck and success today on racking up the highest personal count of paranormal killed. It’s every Exterminator for themselves out there today — no friends, no partners, no helping each other. Today you will prove your personal strength and domination. Go forth and slay today, Exterminators, and may you return in one piece.”
I look over nervously at Angie, who is chewing on her fingernails. “Good luck Angie.”
She blinks and reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Good luck Bianca. Return safe, and with the highest kill count.”
I smile at her and the pistol shot rings out, signifying the beginning of the 12 hour Famine Festival. I gulp, and tear off into the Honor Woods with my weapons bumping against my side.
***
It’s hour 4, and I’m covered in sweat, dirt, and grime. The kill counts are updated regularly on a banner in the sky being pulled by a jet. I just bagged my 17 th kill, a young female Faewitch who had been snoozing in an unlucky location. Angie is in second place with 9 total kills, and her creep Max just killed a Lycan for his 5 th kill of the Festival. Already there were 3 casualties within the Exterminators, but I wasn’t close to any of those who died. It’s always sad, but expected during an event like this.
I sit on a rock taking a small break, downing some orange Gatorade and inhaling a granola bar as fast as possible. I wipe the blood off my daggers with a rag and shine them back up. The clearing I am in is relatively safe, but I look around regularly to make sure there aren’t any threats sneaking up on me. It’s never good to stay in any one place for long out here. I stand up and wipe my hands off on my pants, buckle my hunting belt back in place and start to walk away.
“Wait.” I hear his voice behind me, and see Tristan crouched down underneath some bramble.
“Tristan, no. This isn’t the time. You need to get out of here. Go. NOW.” I walk away from him and hear his feet crunching against he leaves behind me as he scrambles to catch up to me. His hand spins me around to face him and I can’t help but feel that he’s more beautiful than before. He is wearing a tight white t-shirt that shows every muscle on his body. Streaks of dirt and scratches are lining his arms, and he looks like he had at least one struggle today.
“You don’t understand. I know this feels wrong. I know today is important for you and I don’t want to take that away from you. But my people, my Order, they’re going to kill you and your friends.” Tristan pleads with me with a sincerity in his eyes.
“Kill me? How on earth…?”
“We’ve been organized. The Kixions. We knew you were coming and so we’ve coordinated an attack. As soon as the Festival ends, when all of the competitors are being honored and the celebration begins. The Kixions and the Jackals are coming to
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a mustached announcer broadcasts over a squeaking loudspeaker. “Today is the 55 th running of the Famine Festival, in which the fierce and noble Exterminators will be doing an en masse culling of the Paranormal of Honor Woods. Serpenticulm, Faewitches, Lycan, Vamps, and god-knows-what awaits our brave heroes on this date. We wish them luck and success today on racking up the highest personal count of paranormal killed. It’s every Exterminator for themselves out there today — no friends, no partners, no helping each other. Today you will prove your personal strength and domination. Go forth and slay today, Exterminators, and may you return in one piece.”
I look over nervously at Angie, who is chewing on her fingernails. “Good luck Angie.”
She blinks and reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Good luck Bianca. Return safe, and with the highest kill count.”
I smile at her and the pistol shot rings out, signifying the beginning of the 12 hour Famine Festival. I gulp, and tear off into the Honor Woods with my weapons bumping against my side.
***
It’s hour 4, and I’m covered in sweat, dirt, and grime. The kill counts are updated regularly on a banner in the sky being pulled by a jet. I just bagged my 17 th kill, a young female Faewitch who had been snoozing in an unlucky location. Angie is in second place with 9 total kills, and her creep Max just killed a Lycan for his 5 th kill of the Festival. Already there were 3 casualties within the Exterminators, but I wasn’t close to any of those who died. It’s always sad, but expected during an event like this.
I sit on a rock taking a small break, downing some orange Gatorade and inhaling a granola bar as fast as possible. I wipe the blood off my daggers with a rag and shine them back up. The clearing I am in is relatively safe, but I look around regularly to make sure there aren’t any threats sneaking up on me. It’s never good to stay in any one place for long out here. I stand up and wipe my hands off on my pants, buckle my hunting belt back in place and start to walk away.
“Wait.” I hear his voice behind me, and see Tristan crouched down underneath some bramble.
“Tristan, no. This isn’t the time. You need to get out of here. Go. NOW.” I walk away from him and hear his feet crunching against he leaves behind me as he scrambles to catch up to me. His hand spins me around to face him and I can’t help but feel that he’s more beautiful than before. He is wearing a tight white t-shirt that shows every muscle on his body. Streaks of dirt and scratches are lining his arms, and he looks like he had at least one struggle today.
“You don’t understand. I know this feels wrong. I know today is important for you and I don’t want to take that away from you. But my people, my Order, they’re going to kill you and your friends.” Tristan pleads with me with a sincerity in his eyes.
“Kill me? How on earth…?”
“We’ve been organized. The Kixions. We knew you were coming and so we’ve coordinated an attack. As soon as the Festival ends, when all of the competitors are being honored and the celebration begins. The Kixions and the Jackals are coming to
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