#guard harem

Walking a few steps behind the Frontman, peering through your silver mask and analysing the clipboard in your hands you updated your boss on the status of everything being prepared for the games.

Based on the grunts and scoffs he let out you crossed out and marked different items on the list. For a man of little words, he sure was good at communicating. After the large doors to the hall closed, you looked first to your boss then to the militia-like staff.

Handing over the checklist to the closest square, you nodded to your boss and turned to leave.

“Squares 1 through 16, Your men will be painting the halls. Squares 18 through 21, Your men will construct the bridge. Squares 22 and 23..." As you approached your office the front man's voice faded away.

There was a surprising amount of paper work for a company that strived to leave no traceable evidence, you supposed they needed to be completely aware of the crimes that the company had committed as to better cover their tracks. That being said, you would swear that the pile had grown since before breakfast.

So sitting down in your little office you pulled off your mask and began to sort through the first few files. After certain issues and unauthorised branches sprung up in the command structure of the previous year's games, you been given the tedious task of vetting all potential contestants.

The main rules were; no one with medical training, we cant have another spout of organ harvesting, no one with knowledge that could reduce or alter the difficulty of the games, aka no more glass guys, and so on and so forth for what seemed to be an unending and ever growing pile of filters.

You'd made it through half of the pile, removing a few of the contestants for their quote unquote leadership qualities, when an alarm chimed from your phone. Tugging forward the microphone you grabbed the notes from today's agenda, before crackling the speakers to life with the press of a button.

'It is now midday. Lunch will be available to grab under the sun for the next 90 minutes. Today's music choice is... mine and will be the entire Mamma Mia musical soundtrack followed by twenty minutes of me replaying my favourite songs.'

Pressing play on the album and turning off the microphone you opted to return to your work for the time being, only now there was the occasional humming along.

When a tapping came from your window you finally stopped, slipping your silvery mask back into place and tugging back the unnecessarily extravagant curtain you observed a single circle giving you a thumbs up.

Waving to him you stepped closer and peered to the side, down the hall stood a group grooving, and as you pressed your ear to the glass you could hear their voices singing along.

Sneaking your secure and very dumb brick of a phone out of your pocket you started to record, before noticing the circle was now waving for you to join them.

Deciding... screw it you leaned your phone against the sill and slipped out of the office to join the gaggle of guards. Only then did you notice just how loud the PA system was set to as the concrete under your feet vibrated with the music.

Dancing and singing along, the group seemed to grow as the album played on... until your boss' brash tone cracked over the system;

'Okay that's enough, go get your food.'

Walking a few steps behind the Frontman, peering through your silver mask and analysing the clipboard in your hands you updated your boss on the status of everything being prepared for the games. Based on the grunts and scoffs he let out you crossed out and marked different items on the list. For a man of little words, he sure was good at communicating. After the large doors to the hall closed, you looked first to your boss, then to the militia-like staff. "Squares 1 through 16, Your men will be painting the halls. Squares 18 through 21, Your men will construct the bridge. Squares 22 and 23 your men shall construct the robot. And Since Square 17 decided to fail us, my assistant shall be leading his group for the time being, that being said, his group shall be working in the kitchen going forward."

You had swiftly led the gaggle of men to the kitchen attempting to keep your mind away from holding their hands, feeling their warmth and holding it close.

Introducing the dishes that you will be cooking for the day ahead, you assigned the roles to the different masked men. It only took around twenty minutes before some of them asked for help kneading their dough. Standing between the two you gently grasped their wrists and guided them in small up and down motions. Too focused on helping them you missed the look they shared behind you. Once the men got themselves together they thanked you for the lesson and kindly sent you on your way. Walking around the room you checked on the various components before being stopped in your tracks by a guard and his ladle.

"Will you taste the curry sauce I made?"

"Alrig-"

"No please taste mine"

"No matter about the sauce try my bread"

"No no no try my tea"

You tried your hardest not to giggle at the plethora of ladles, cups and foods that crowded your face, but their pleads were just too cute.

All of them visibly deflated as the giggle passed through your lips moving to retract their hands as you scramble for an apology.

"no no no my darlings I would love to try all of them, your passion gives me such joy and the care you show in trying to feed me warms my heart. Your bickering is what makes me laugh."

Waking up in a hot sweat was nothing new to him, neither was the reoccurring nightmare, but today Tri's dream had lasted longer than ever before.

There he stood alone in the humongous game room, the crumbling gravel fading in and out as his mind focussed on different aspects of the room. He found himself once again standing opposite another guard. no. Not just another guard. It was him, there was seemingly no way to tell but Tri knew it was him.

The man reaches up behind his mask, shrugging off his hood and beginning to peel the cover away from his face. As the circle branded man moved a voice screamed out, though to his surprise it seemed to be coming from Tri himself.

As the Circle's forehead was revealed Tri once again found his muscles moving of their own accord, cocking and aiming his gun as his cries for the man to stop continued. None of his efforts seemed to stop his or the guard's movements.

That was usually where it ended, but today it went further.

In one single moment, the man's face was revealed, well sort of, a blank patch of skin was where his face should have been yet during his moment of confusion his hand had shifted and riddled the man with bullets.

Although somewhat disturbing the lack of a face shouldn't have been a surprise, he hadn't seen the man's face before and always had trouble picturing anything but a blank slate.

The more violent aspect of the dream most likely came from the events of this year's second game. Along with the Circle's lack of a firearm which had already caused sleepless nights, worrying about the faceless man seemed to take up quite a large amount of his time.

Shifting continuously in the darkness, returning to sleep seemed impossible, so instead Triangle swiftly stood. Retrieving his personal firearm he placed it under the tracksuit that sat on the desk. He would explain it tomorrow and ask the man to keep it on him all the time.