The Mating Run by Leeka

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“You think this is justice? Destroying everything?”

Victor snarls, his words a mix of anger and despair.

“It’s consequence, Victor. You can’t play with fire and not expect to get burned.

I reply, my tone serious.

He grumbles, brushing ash off his hands again. “This won’t change anything, Aline. You can destroy my shack, but it won’t erase the choices we made out there,” he dedares, his bittemess lingering.

I nod, acknowledging the truth in his words. “You’re right, Victor. But maybe now you’ll think twice before risking everything again.” I say, my voice holding a hint of hope that this chaotic lesson might lead to some reflection.

But Victor continues to grumble under his breath, frustration etched on his face as he sifts through the ashes of his once–standing shack.

I can’t contain my anger any longer.

“You don’t get it, do you?”

I scream at him, my voice cutting through the quiet aftermath. The forest, with its ancient trees, seems to echo my frustration. Victor looks up, his eyes meeting mine with a mix of irritation and indifference.

“How serious it was out there! While you were up here having a vacation, people died,” I continue, my words a desperate attempt to make him understand the gravity of our situation. “We started as a thousand, and now we’re probably down to just 40!”

Victor rolls his eyes, a dismissive gesture that only fuels my frustration.

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“You always love a good drama, Alina. It’s probably not as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

He retorts, his tone laced with sarcasm. I shake my head, bewildered by his lack of comprehension.

“It’s not drama, Victor. It’s reality. People lost their lives, and all you care about is your precious shack!” I shoot back, my anger bubbling to the surface. The forest, with its timeless presence, seems to absorb the tension between us.

Victor brushes off my words with another eye roll. “I had a TV in the shack, your know. I saw what was happening. Everything’s probably just for dramatics anyway.” he quips, his dismissive attitude grating on my nerves.

I shake my head in disbelief. “I know you think this is just some show, Victor. I was like that too. But I know better now. Out here – It’s life and death.”

He remains unfazed, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re always so serious, Alina. Not everything is a matter of life and death,” he replies, his nonchalance infuriating. I can’t fathom how he can be so carefree, especially after what we’ve been through.

“You’re just close–headed, Victor. You don’t see the bigger picture,” I snap, my frustration boiling over. The forest, with its ancient trees as stoic witnesses, stands. silent as our clash intensifies.

Victor leans against a charred tree, the remnants of his shack scattered around us. “You’re the one who doesn’t get it, Alina. This is just a game. A game I’m playing to win,” he declares, the smirk never leaving his face. I’m dumbfounded by his

stubbornness.

“It’s not just a game. It’s survival. And your ‘vacation‘ mentality is putting everyone at risk,” I retort, my words a plea for him to wake up from his delusion. But he remains obstinate, his eyes reflecting a detachment from reality.

The forest, with its enigmatic presence, seems to amplify the frustration that hangs in the air. “You’re overthinking it, Alina. Relax, enjoy the show.”

Victor adds, as if the chaos around us is merely entertainment for him.

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me. “I can’t believe you’re still acting like this. Lives are at stake,

a careless gesture that only intensifies my exasperation. “I’ve

perched high on a branch

unfazed, embracing the attention as if he’s center stage in some twisted spectacle. My jaw tightens with frustration as he takes

dear viewers!” he announces, his voice carrying an unnatural cheerfulness that grates on my

My eyes ar

what I’m witnessing. Is this really happening? as I glare at Victor,

charm.

hope you enjoyed the little show back there. Alina decided to spice things

a bit.”

gestures towards the remnants of

my fists, resisting the urge to march over

previous shack, but alas, it’s no more, thanks to our dear Alina. So, I thought, why not reach out to my lovely sponsors and see if

asking for sponsors to pitch in

deepens as he flirts shamelessly with the

contribute to the Victor’s Shack Rebuilding

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Fund?”

breath, waiting for

his toothy grin and flamboyant gestures, remains committed to his

of it feels. like a mockery of the gravity of our situation. With a surge of frustration, I step forward and slam my

any sponsors. This is not a game; people died out there!” I hiss through gritted teeth, my palm pressed firmly against hist mouth. “It’s not

shoves me away, the force of his movement sending me stumbling backward. “What’s your problem, Alina? I’m just

head, frustration bubbling within me. “You’re making a mockery of their deaths. This is not the time for your

my concerns. “They’re not dead because

Mating Run, Alina.

now because some have already mated and left. They can’t play

eyes widen in disbelief.

is not a game! People’s lives are at stake, and you’re treating it like a joke! They died. It’s truel You said you

regains his balance, his eyes narrowing as he glares

take a deep breath, attempting to calm the storm of emotions

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a deep breath. Inhale,

the frustration bubbling inside me like a simmering pot, and I need to calm down. Victor, with his arrogance and indifference, has this uncanny ability to push all the wrong buttons. But getting mad at him, it won’t change anything. I’ve realized that, especially

to myself, the words a

storm within.

to prattle on, addressing the invisible audience he believes is watching

two or one! Any sponsors out there willing to contribute to the Victor’s Shack Rebuilding Fund? I will ensure that sponsorships

to gather my composure. “It’s not worth it, Alina. Getting mad at him won’t change his mindset,” I mutter to myself, the realization sinking in like a stone settling at

and flirting with the camera. “Now, who wouldn’t want to contribute to this handsome face having a cozy shelter

you just shut

can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating, as

accusing eyes.

edge of a blade. His frustration is palpable, and instead of taking responsibility, he shifts

fists, my own frustration reaching a boiling point. “Me? You’re the one who turned this into a circus, Victor. You treat everything like

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