next: working on it previous: n/a first: you're here! << brief introduction >> welcome to my new book! it's called "the rivalry", and it's a dystopian fiction loosely based on the hunger games. now, this is just for fun, so please don't come at me with feedback or anything, but ty for reading, and enjoy!! (by the way most chapters won’t be this long, i got carried away ^^’) I pressed my face against the cold window, feeling my cheek smudge it. We were traveling quickly along the empty expanse, and I glanced out at the desert wasteland. I couldn’t see much due to the fact we were going so fast, but there wasn’t much too see. Maybe a occasional scraggy bush or a sorry excuse of a tree. I zipped my sweatshirt closed. It was cold in the traincar. I settled back into my seat, feeling the cushions contour perfectly into the shape of my back. I tugged down the too-small sleeves so they would at least cover my wrists. I clenched my fists, closing my eyes as the train rocked on the tracks. It was going almost too fast, and a wave of nausea crashed over me. I was good at everything- literally everything. I could swim, I could fight, I could dodge. But nausea was my only weakness. It was stupid. I had trained for fourteen years, ever since I was four, but I couldn’t get over my carsickness. I rolled my eyes, settling down. Although there were five other seats I was alone in the segment of the train. People had struggled to find seats, but no one had sat next to me. “Wonder why,” I said with a hint of sarcasm in my voice. Everyone knew why. I was the daughter of two of the most renowned, praised, and most eligible warriors. It wasn’t as if they had been in a battle, or anything at all like that. They hadn’t served their country of Artea, or donated money to starving children, or worked hard for it. They hadn’t even done anything really special. (continued below)
They had won the Rivalry. The Rivalry was a special event that took place once every four years. My parents did it separate years, luckily. Because there’s only one winner. And the others die. I tried not to think about that part. My eyes flicked to the ground, perfectly clean. Aside from that one speck of dirt on the floor, or the strand hair underneath the seat. And the dried blood. “Well, makes sense. Not like they clean it every four years,” I mumbled, sliding my hand onto the wall as I stood up. I pressed my hand harder against the wall to stabilize myself. Dusk was carpeting the landscape quickly, and a dark haze of fog and mist fell over the empty desert plains. I scanned the room. There were the seats, stained with who-knows-what, a patch of blood that HAD to be sort of fresh, and a security camera in the corner. I had taken the traincar from two teenagers having a scuffle, so the blood was logical, but why did they have to have the cameras IN THE TRAINCAR? It was like they wanted to track our every move. I didn’t find the camera strange, though. I had grown up around ONLY cameras, cameras flashing in my face, cameras following me and my parents whenever we went out. I wasn’t shy of them. In fact, I embraced them. I smiled reassuringly, tilting my head as I angled it towards the camera. It singled in on my face. I licked my lips, stepping forwards and lifting my chin. I knew it was a bit overkill, but they needed to know I was on their side. They needed to know I would kill anyone who got in my way. And then I smashed it. The last thing the watchers saw were my fists flying towards the screen as it shattered, making a loud popping noise, glass flying across the room. I ducked just in time as a shard flew for my face. Then I heard a scream. I almost laughed. There would be a lot more screaming. It was a 11-hour train ride, and I couldn’t stand being watched by millions of people for 11 hours. I made a logical decision. Sure, it might get me in trouble by the Creators---the creators of everything, apparently---but I could just remind them who my parents were. Sure, it wouldn’t save my life, but it could give me an advantage. I paced around the room, my brain clicking and whirring, working quickly. If I was gonna survive, I needed a gameplan. The thick, soundproof glass door slid open, and I whirled around. It was a girl. She looked my age. Her carefully sculpted, perfect, smooth face glanced around the room. Her eyes were dark, cruel, and cunning. She was wearing the usual uniform for girls: black leggings, a white cropped tank top, and a dark green sweatshirt with the logo on it. She had dark brown hair pulled into a tight ponytail, not a strand undone. I scanned her down. I tilted my head, opening my mouth to speak. “What are you doing here?” I tried to keep it controlled, but I heard a hint of hostility slip through after I said it. She rolled her eyes. I had expected her to leave much sooner, since most of the time when someone saw me, they ran the other way, but she didn’t look like she cared. She leaned against the doorframe. I heard noisy chatter slip through from outside. Other people were making alliances, I saw. She broke the silence, raising her eyebrows. “So, can I sit here, or not?” I slid into the seat I had been in before, and she took a seat across from me. The table in the middle of the traincar rattled as she placed two drinks down, the color a quizzical purple. She took a sip of the one closest, pushing the other towards me. “What’s your name?” I asked, eying the drink. It was probably poisoned. Murder before the Rivalry begun was illegal and you would be taken away, but sabotaging them? Go for it. That’s why I had vowed not to eat or drink anything on the ride, and why I had put a special drug in some of the food on the food-cart while the lady who controlled it was distracted. It would make it so they COULDN’T sprint for more than two minutes without their lungs bursting. She took another swig. “Drink it. It’s good,” She said, gesturing to the drink, and then realization dawned on her. “It’s not poisoned. If I wanted to poison you, I would have done it a while ago.” “What’s your name?” I insisted. I was thirsty after ten hours of drinking nothing, so I sniffed it carefully, stirring it with my finger. It was fine, I decided. All those days of identifying poisons while blindfolded had paid off. I took a small drink. She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, you keep returning to that? Anyways, my name’s Artemis. I’m eighteen, and I have something to ask you.” She leaned in, so much I nearly leaned back. I could smell mint on her breath. “I want a truce.”
