Eztli Iaomai

This Tribute is Special They belong to The Wayward Daughter and TheFireJay

Backstory
Before I chronicle my great history, I want you as the reader to take a moment to think. I want you to reflect through your life so far and decide exactly what you were designed to do. Some people were born to become heroes and help other people. Others are born to create a legacy of themselves that will last for many generations to come. For myself, it seemed that I was put on this goddamn earth to become an embodiment of evil. It seems that even from the first moments of my conception, I would be the child that became corrupted by inhumane morals and transformed in a bloodlust monster. If you are reading this now, I only hope that you learn to never be the boy I was: psychopathic, cruel and full of lust for something so inhumane that I might as well not be human at all. Please, steer away from the path that will end up destroying your life, and as you run away, do not look back at me, for it’s far too late to save me from the world of chaos. Now, with that thought in mind, here is my story.

My parents were infamous doctors who were best known for doing experimentation on babies. Everyday, they would destroy another human life, and they would state that “sacrifices were necessary” in order for science to progress. What they didn’t expect is that one harsh winter evening, a human life would enter the world that could not be a necessary sacrifice for an area of society that walks the tightrope of advances and morals everyday. It was that every evening when I first came into the world.

The first thing that my parents noticed about me was my blood red eyes. According to my father, my mother, terrified by these eyes, named me “Eztli”, which meant one word that would end up changing my entire life: blood. Unlike my parent’s occupation, our last name Iaomai meant “healer”, which most people would interpret as a person who helped others. In my family, the word healer meant someone who purged humans for their own needs. Every society has a type of force that wants to eliminate everything in it’s path to achieve their goal. In District 15, we were the ultimate exterminators.

Quickly throughout my childhood, I discovered that my parents despised me. They neglected me for their work, and I was suppose raised by a random woman who my family claimed to be my “nanny” when in reality she was just another bystander who didn’t give a damn about me. Throughout primary school, some of the children would shove me down and beat me like a punching bag. Everyone else wouldn’t dare help me just because of my parent’s legacy. Even at home, no one seemed concerned for my well-being. There was even a time that I came home with a broken nose and bruises covering my entire body. Any normal child’s mother or father would take them to the hospital. But all my nanny did when I arrived home from school that day was “go fix yourself, imbecile.” At the age of 9, I was done with all of the names, shoving and insults. All I wanted was the truth.

One day, I came home from school frustrated after getting another black eye from one of the popular kids. I stormed into the living room and started asking my so-called nanny questions.

“Why am I neglected by my parents?”

“Why aren’t my parents raising me?”

My so-called nanny sighed as I crossed my arms and waited for an explanation. After what seemed like an hour, my nanny explained the situation (but to write that out in full would take an eternity, so I’ll summarize it)

Basically, my parents wanted to create a so-called “perfect” child in a laboratory as they were disgusted by my very existence and they wanted me eliminated. So, they hired my nanny to keep me away from the situation, and when the time was right, kill me off and raise the new child. The process would continue until my parents had made the perfect child in a test tube.

After the nanny spilled the beans, I sat in my family’s luxurious living room in pure shock. How could two parents who created a new life and brought a normal child into the world abandon their own flesh and blood for something made in a laboratory? I was mad. No, I was furious. In fact there was no distinct word that I could describe my internal anger. On the outside, I had to seem unfazed by this news, otherwise I would die.

Once I found out about my parent’s association with creating a child out of a test tube, I vowed to find that waste of a science experiment and end it. Unfortunately, it took me 3 years to find out the name of that citizen, Apollo Gowyr, a boy two years younger than me and absolutely adored by the rest of the district. One rare moment that my parents came home from work, I looked down over the railing of the upper floor to see them hugging and smiling with their supposed perfect child. It was then I became even more determined to eliminate that experiment once and for all.

Two years after that incident, when I was thirteen, I spotted Apollo walking down an abandoned alley, all alone. For him, that was a big mistake, because I was ready to kill him. I tackled Apollo from behind and raised my knife to kill him.

“Why are you killing me?” Apollo whimpered, pleading for his life. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

I simply chuckle. “Well Apollo, you’ve done a lot of things wrong. First of all, you took my parents away from me. They weren’t satisfied with a flawed child, they wanted a child of pure perfection, and they didn’t care how what measures they had to achieve it. You took away the people that were suppose to love me and care me. All you are is an experiment, developed from a tube. You have no true parents at all. YOU. ARE. NOTHING!”

Then I stabbed the boy multiple times through his head, chest and neck to make sure that he actually died and wouldn’t come back to haunt me later in life.

After killing off that useless experiment, I stared at the blood that covered all of Apollo’s body. Never in my life had I ever seen something so glorious and could only imagine the taste of such a sweet nectar. Glancing around, I slowly took out a vial and placed some of Apollo’s blood in it as a keepsake. Then, I took some of the blood in my hands and I drank it. Apollo’s blood tasted like a sweet feeling of satisfaction, like a piece that I had missing from me for my entire life. I ended up drinking most of Apollo’s blood, and the experience left me with a lust of blood, like only it’s sweet taste could cure my everlasting hunger to be accepted and loved.

Eventually, I also killed off my nanny in the same fashion as Apollo, and like Apollo, I drank all of her blood that was spilled. The taste of her blood was just as redeeming as Apollo’s was, satisfying my hunger for satisfaction and revenge. But did my parents still give me the light of day? Nope.

It was also around this time in my life when I started to not feel fully male. Maybe it was the bloodlust, but I felt as if I couldn’t be defined by a distinct gender in general. I wasn’t male or female. I was both. So, at age 14, I went to the district office and declared myself as agender. When they sent me a guidance counsellor to help me in the situation, I killed off the guidance counsellor, and like the other victims, I celebrating my victory by drowning my sorrows in their blood.

At this point, I figured that my parents had completely neglected me at this point since they spent all of their time in the laboratory. So, after coming home from the district office, I filled a small backpack and left my past behind me. Sulking at home won’t help me get accepted by my parents, but causing a couple headlines might.

So out in the streets, I spent the next four years of my life creating headlines by killing people, some of whom were closely associated with the District’s government. With their sweet nectar coursing through my veins, I prayed my parents would notice the headlines marking their deaths. Throughout that time, I tried to be accepted because of my sexuality, but that was a mission unto itself. Sure, I found myself attracted to both genders, but once they got a glance at my eyes, they backed off.

Then, walking down the street, I found a poster that mentioned something of a “Pride Parade” in District 14 at the time. This was my chance to be accepted of my gender. The parade would start the day after the reapings. I figured that the reapings were going to be no big deal. I wouldn’t get selected and I could go show my true colors. But the morning of the reaping, I got a huge surprise.

Walking towards the square, I was pulled aside by two figures. Once I stared at them, I realized that they were my original parents. The two people who were suppose to love and cherish me for the rest of their lives. But their actions drove me from my home, knowing that they could not love something that wasn’t perfect.

“What do you two want?” I sigh, crossing my arms.

My supposed father looked at my mom who replied. “We want to apologize. All these years, we were suppose to be raising you when we became too blind towards your good qualities and ignorant towards your faults. We know that you couldn’t possibly want to come back into our home, but at least want us to be on good terms.”

Knowing that my parents were being sincere, I couldn’t help but smile. “Of course.” As I said those words, I rushed off to the reaping, praying that my parents didn’t notice that I was lying through my teeth. How could I possibly forgive my parents for what they have done?

Going to my spot, I just noticed the female tribute gracing the stage. I didn’t bother to study her reaction as my mind was bouncing off of the walls in a thousands different directions. the escort had pulled her hand in the slips of paper when my mind went insane.

Think of all the blood you could have Eztli. More fresh nectar coursing through your veins then ever before.

I tried to shake the thought from my mind, but it took too much effort. As the escort called out the name of a boy that wasn’t mine, I tried to keep my mind from thinking of the blood I could consume. But the lust of having such a sweet concoction flowing through me was too much to handle.

“I VOLUNTEER!” I scream out, running towards the stage. The faster I got to the stage, the quicker I could start feasting on blood.

“Who in tarnation are you?” The escort glanced at me uneasy.

“The victor of your Hunger Games.” I replied.

So there you go, that’s my story on why you shouldn’t follow the path that I did. Now run you innocent creature, run for the hills. Why? Because I have a promise to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.

Trivia

 * Eztli is the thrid non-binary character on the wiki following Saerin Vrox & Alfred Friedrich