War Party

The mediator stood in the centre of the stage and held the five fingers of his right hand up in the air and began counting down silently; four, three, two, one. The noise from the chattering politicians in the large hall began to dissipate as the fingers were lowered. A couple of the more strong-headed politicians were still talking when the fingers were gone. The mediator said, “Russia, U.S.A, you forfeit two throws each.”

The rest of the crowd ooooh’d at the two political leaders while Russia said, “That’s not fair, mediator! I didn’t see you!”

“Russia,” the mediator said reproachfully, as if he were talking to a child, “no complaining or I’ll make it four throws.”

Russia brooded, but remained silent. The mediator began, “Hello, world leaders! Welcome to the annual War Party! For those of you who are new, I will explain the rules. Every country begins with five darts, which means five throws. The country deemed least powerful by the standards posted on the bulletin board at the back of the hall will remain with only five darts,” as the mediator said this, a group of politicians snickered and shoved the unfortunate politician who was deemed least powerful. “Each ranking gained by a country on the sheet means one more dart for that country. The targets are numbered one to ten randomly, and there are one hundred targets total. The number on the target represents that digit multiplied by a million citizens for possession. Once a target is hit, any repeated hits are devoid, and that x-million people belong to the first thrower and are to be done with as the winner pleases. We will decide the order of throwing by the classic lottery system. Any questions?”

When it was clear that there were no questions, the mediator called to the back stage, “Okay, bring out the target board!”

A ten-foot tall crucifix was wheeled out onto the stage to the hooting cheers of the politicians. Nailed to the crucifix was a naked young boy around the age of ten. He was gagged and blindfolded, but his desperate sobs could still be heard. The front of his body was covered head to toe in one hundred circles, each with a number from one to ten inside.

“Ah, pity,” one politician said to another. “It’s a young lad this time.”

“Yeah,” agreed the other politician. “The targets are so much smaller on the young ones.”

Reviews

[Olivia]

Amazing story, first of all. I was pulled in by the title, because it sounded unique and different, and it was. Your dialogue is very precise, only what is needed to create an effect on the reader.
I really enjoyed the ending.