a rigged journey {cameo/arrows/cato/rade}
Jun 6, 2016 0:38:04 GMT -5
Post by Knuckles on Jun 6, 2016 0:38:04 GMT -5
W E A V E R
Weaver had said his goodbyes, and he walked angrily as the peacekeepers led him to through the district, and his eyes locked on the faces of the citizens some stared into his eyes. His blood churned inside him, and his heart pounded fiercely inside his chest, and his gaze dropped towards the ground. Fear crawled across his skin raising his hair as they loaded him into a car transporting him to the train station. Two years ago he stood at this station awaiting the train carrying his brother home. Weaver had always wanted to see the outside of the district, yet he never imagined this was how it would happen.
The car ride was slow, yet fast, and nothing was said. Weaver sat in silence with his eyes closed until the door opened, and the peacekeepers dragged him from inside. His body felt nothing as his mind was filled with rage. A red cape stood in front of him dancing around, and Weaver was ready to charge. He didn't even look around as he strutted from the car and headed towards the train. It was massive compared to anything he had seen in his entire life, and he wanted to know what the inside looked like. But this wasn't his. It didn't offer him the escape he needed in order to survive. This train belonged to President Snow, and Weaver planned on ruining it.
His eyes narrowed as he walked up the stairs before entering the train looking at what would normally be a breathtaking sight, but it wasn't. His hands clenched tightly into fists as he made his way through the cars staring at each individual item. Glasses and chandeliers hanging from ceiling. Lights glistening across the carts. Huge windows showing the outside world, but Weaver wanted nothing to do with that. He wanted to cause a scene to destroy the lives of those who've destroyed his.
A firm hand wrapped around a glass before lifting it into the air. The world stood still as he stared at his reflection hating what he was becoming, but this had to be done. What would Snow do, kill him? That was already on the bucket list. His face went clear of emotions as he threw the glass towards the ground as the door closed behind him, and the citizens were out of sight.
SMASH!
Shards flew in every direction as the glass shattered against the carpet floor. He didn't care what anyone said to him. He didn't care if they shot him dead right there because he was going to die anyway, and he knew it, and he didn't care if his death came sooner.
Made by Frankel