User blog:LightStone123/400th Annual Hunger Games

Welcome everyone to my ninth ever Hunger Games! In my last games, The 399th Annual Hunger Games, Anais Morrisa from District 1 and created by Pippycat was crowned victor. These Games have a special twist added to them as well, a very special twist that will make these my biggest, boldest, and bloodiest Games yet!

Introduction
This year the Hunger Games will be a Quell, a very special Quell at that. This year the Games will contain ninety-two tributes. Yes, ninety-two! Thirty-two of them will be Reaped from District's 0 through 14 and the Capitol, another thirty-two will be voted upon by citizens of the Capitol. These tributes will be tributes from the 327th, 398th, and 399th Hunger Games. The tributes with the most votes will be revived and and sent back into the Games to compete again. And the final twenty-eight will be tributes who competed in the 300th, 301st, 302nd, 325th, & 326th Games. However, unlike the tributes from the newer Games, these tributes will not be voted in. Instead, these tributes will be divided by District, placed into a large location that matches the District's import, and be forced to fight to the death until only two remain. These two tributes will then be inserted into the Games along with the new tributes and the voted in tributes, bringing the total amount of tributes competing to ninety-two.

Rules
1: There will be ninety-two Tributes, 32 tributes who competed in my 327th, 398th, and 399th Games, 28 tributes who competed in my 300th, 301st, 302nd, 325th, & 326th Games, and finally, there will be 32 new tributes

2: You may submit up two new Tributes

3: Because of the sheer amount of tributes, sponsoring will not be in these Games, at least not at first. Once the numbers begin to dwindle then sponsoring will be reinstated

4: I will write Reapings, Group Training, and of course the actual Games

5: I will not accept any Tributes that have been in my previous Games (that's what the All-Stars' are for)

6: Reservations last exactly 48 hours (this may be extended in certain cases)

7: The Capitol is a Career district in my Games

8: Because of the size of these Games, I anticipate it will take a long time for them to finish. If you're not comfortable joining a Games that will last many months than I'd advise you refrain from joining.

9: Tribute Form: (for new tributes)

Name:

District:

Gender:

Age:

Personality:

Back-story:

Height:

Appearance:

Weapon(s):

Strengths:

Weaknesses:

Fear(s):

Bloodbath Strategy:

Alliance: (can be filled out later)

Training Strategy: (how they will behave in training)

Choosing All-Stars
1: There will be three factors that will decide who will compete again. First of which is votes. I'll explain how it works below.

Each user can vote for one tribute per slot, and de-vote one tribute per slot. (Example: You can only vote for 1 D1 male and de-vote one D1 male) A devote means that you DO NOT want that tribute, and one vote will be taken away from them instead. (Example: Vote: Edmund Everton, De-Vote: Marcio Redge Edmund would be at one, Marcio at -1)

Here is the vote template: (Just copy and paste this in the comments and bold which tribute you are voting for, and italicize the tribute you are de-voting.)

The three Games are...

http://thehungergames.wikia.com/wiki/User_blog:LightStone123/327th_Annual_Hunger_Games_(All-Stars)

http://thehungergames.wikia.com/wiki/User_blog:LightStone123/398th_Annual_Hunger_Games

http://thehungergames.wikia.com/wiki/User_blog:LightStone123/399th_Annual_Hunger_Games

Start copy and pasting HERE:

District 0 Male: Solar Energy (398) & Fenrir Amarth (399)

District 0 Female: Aelia Freedome (398) & Bailey Snowbelle (399)

District 1 Male: Dragon Lord (327), Trevor Gold (398), & Jake Locketback (399)

District 1 Female: Glique Dumofitz (327), Astrid Bellia (327), & Trinity Mace (398)

District 2 Male: Julius Paris (327), Hatch Scright (327), Luigi Wilkins (398), & Hammer Time (399)

District 2 Female: Jerica Straddler (327), Ella Massey (327), Avia Stafford (398), & Carmine Morrisa (399)

District 3 Male: Wario Wade (327), Courage Blitz (327), Shuppet Jorravaskr (398), Aspen Bolts (399)

District 3 Female: Annabeth March (327), Sombra Celesta (398), & Iris Pixel (399)

District 4 Male: Percy Grace (327), Ryan Marine (327), Nikki Heart (398), & Kaye Ocelote (399)

District 4 Female: Zia Grace (327) Swatty Lakeside (327), Scarlet Avalon (398), & Mizu Fall (399)

District 5 Male: Woody Chopper (327), Kodai Hitogoroshi (327), Johnathan Mikeal (398), & Clark Stevens (399)

District 5 Female: Augusta Winters (327), Trick Treat (327), Lucinda Kidd (398), & Missy Turner (399)

District 6 Male: Blade Spectrus (327), Train McBridge (327), & Julio Fall (399)

District 6 Female: Alissa Metal Beam (327), Mimic Slaughter (327) A Amore Madness (398), & Rosalie Sonnet (399)

District 7 Male: Hybrid Three (327), Shade Spectrus (327), Nick Maclachlan (398), & Henry Polyester (399)

District 7 Female: Marcia Callamezzo (327), Willow Firethorn (327), Fiora Waltz (398), & Arbor Alpine (399)

District 8 Male: Rufus Silks (327), Dome Citadel (327), Banette Tsukomogami (398), & Colin Bisset (399)

District 8 Female: Evelyn Dinstra (327), Cashmere Prada (327), Aisha Hakeem (398), & Kim Carett (399)

District 9 Male: Hunter Davila (327), Jake Price (327), Lyman Milton (398), & Jac Price (399)

District 9 Female: Alicia Haze (327), Varina Tapora (327), Juline Cenia (398), & Azalea Finch (399)

District 10 Male: Twix Cinders (327), Vlad Rockford (327), Stephen Star (398), & Billy McGranger (399)

District 10 Female: Bella Mustang (327), Vivan Incomstanti (327), Cleopatra Royalty (398), & Fawn Talons (399)

District 11 Male: Gloom Ivy (327), Darker Horrfi (327), Crimson Typhoon (398), & Bellamy Blake (399)

District 11 Female: Daisy Lilac (327), Mondi Bakerman (327), Raven Night (398), & Octavia Blake (399)

District 12 Male: Exolian Dynamite (327), Drago Fire (398), & Ganta Alomo (399)

District 12 Female: Rio Flock (327), Amaryllis Silvermoon (327), Celica Rotas (398) & Misty Honeysuckle (399)

District 13 Male: Kingsley Orion (327), Ice Hunts (327), Radiant Tayz (325), & Luxio Sertralium (399)

District 13 Female: Celia Myer (327), Piper Quinn (327), Zoey Proasheck (398) & Alexandrite Bohamia (399)

District 14 Male: Odin Amarth (398) & Luxray Meganium (399)

District 14 Female: Angel Orthodox (398) & Amaya Lovelace (399)

Capitol Male: Dusk Olive (327), Ramon Constancy (327), Furcifer Soror (398), & Iggy Coupe (399)

Capitol Female: Dawn Olive (327), Aemillia Wonder (398), Flame Vapore (399)

Stop copy and pasting HERE:

2: The other factors in deciding who will be selected is  1: My personal preference. Basically, If I like the tribute it has a better chance of getting in. and 2: Detail. If a tribute wasn't very detailed or interesting the first time it competed, it likely won't get in this time.

3. After all the votes and de-votes are counted (I will allow a week for voting), I will pick the tributes using the other categories as well.

3. Please do not pick tributes because you are friends with their creator, etc. Pick the tribute you find most interesting due to backstory, you liked reading about them etc.. It would probably be a good idea to read my past Games if you haven't already. Oh, and of course, you can vote for your own tributes.

4. In case the tributes have creators who are no longer active, I will assign people to mentor those tributes. So don't not vote for a tribute because their creator isn't active.

5: Don't worry. I'll make sure that the amount of tributes people have is even. Example, one person won't have like six All-Stars.

​ All-Stars Part 2
The other twenty-eight All-Stars will not be voted upon. No, they will have to earn their second chance at the Games through an all-out battle to the death.

These duels will be between every tribute from my 300th through 326th Games. Yes, every tribute except for Victors and the tributes who were voted into the 327th Games. They will be exempt from this death duel and instead be included in the voting process.

All the other tributes however, will be separated by District and inserted into the Death Duels. The duels themselves will take place in a enclosed environment, either outside or inside, and weapons may be provided. There will be no possibility of escape. The only way the duels end Is when only two tributes remain living. All others must be dead.

In short, the duels will be like a miniature bloodbath where everyone must fight and kill until there is only two tributes left standing. At this point, the Duel ends and the two winners will join the Reaped tributes and the voted in All-Stars in the Games.

The five Games that these tributes are from will be listed below...

http://thehungergames.wikia.com/wiki/User_blog:LightStone123/The_300th_Annual_Hunger_Games:

http://thehungergames.wikia.com/wiki/User_blog:LightStone123/301st_Annual_Hunger_Games

http://thehungergames.wikia.com/wiki/User_blog:LightStone123/302nd_Annual_Hunger_Games

http://thehungergames.wikia.com/wiki/User_blog:LightStone123/325th_Annual_Hunger_Games

http://thehungergames.wikia.com/wiki/User_blog:LightStone123/326th_Annual_Hunger_Games

The tributes who will compete in each duel are...

District 1 Duel: Elvis Alexander (300), Cole Harrison (325), Karma Blood (325), Warwickite Jewelly (326), Diamond Coman (301), Raven Armor (302), Skylar Windbreeze (325), Artemis Grace (325), & Kate Willis (326)

District 2 Duel: Johnny Clarke (300), Damian Weatherby (301), Drewsiff Bloodwonky (302), Yuki Kokyu (325), Jeffrey Killheart (326), Bethany Clarke (300), Pansy Costello (301), Onyx Eboni (302), Chloe Black (325), & Teresa Silver (325

District 3 Duel: Noah Everest (300), Elecc Commission (325), Chip Parks (325), Rebel Groots (326), Di Thorn (300), Bethunia Underium (301), Syren Song (302), Elecctronny Watson (325), & Vision Faith (325)

District 4 Duel: Flick Rivers (300th), Cody Freshwater (301st), Trident Bekke (302nd), Giller McFish (325th), Wayne Defleckt (325th), Kaylay Netter (300) Wari Oceani (301), Nymph Mere (325), Fressa Saltie (325), & Seafoam Majesty (326)

District 5 Duel: Trenton Powers (300), Watt Powers (301), Tameo Arghus (302), Sebastian Hive (325), Philo Ventus (326), Allie Costigan (300), Swift Twirpshkin (301), Allana Darkbloom (325), & Bonnie Cougar (326)

District 6 Duel: Cosmo Fyngelli (300), Xavier Woods (301), Illegal Drugs (302), Zak Slaughter (325), Wolbert Toonico (325), Belladonna Saware (300), Luna Fern (301) Bluffy Silvestein (302), Eleith Lightstorm (325), & Blondie Genesis (326)

District 7 Duel: Ransom Overman (301), Wocky Oak (302), & Frade Spectrus (326), May-Ann Hunter (300), Nastya Gushkin (301), Maple Leavestruck (325), Chumps Harvaria (325), & Voolia Kelopi (326)

District 8 Duel: Nick Kobarg (300), Josef Wilder (301), Jax Griffin (325), Tot Tenham (325), Yuri Collins (326), Coco Joansi (300), Freya Prada (302), Galina Von Dover (325), Catalina Tweed (325), & Odessa Garnetstone (326)

District 9 Duel: Eli Dawn (300), Mark Haulk (301), Hunther Hayes (302), Folly Rover (325), Tito Granso (326), Plasma Perimen (300), Perrie Grain (301), Layla Twozone (325), & Vera Luchabra (326)

District 10 Duel: Morolith Dmitry (300), Bronco Bagwell (301), Alec Cohen (325), Kwarts Diodin (325), Alex Lexys (326), Gracie King (300), Seeker Amaryllis (301), Ellis Blackberry (302), Alecia Cohen (325), & Cassie Lexys (326)

District 11 Duel: Wess Cornstob (300), Shimdt Raspberry (302), Trent Korey (325), Seez Croppley (325), Zippy Oakster (326), Flow’r Raspberry (301), Rasp Southern (302), Flora Sapsling (325), Eva Destiny (325) & Flippy Twinmind (326)

District 12 Duel: Gogh Lizta (300), Knight Castle (302), Jack Cayman (325), Julian (325), Regina Victorious (301), Mina Ebony (302), Salem Calla (325), Thalia Combe (325) & Steammie Pic (326)

District 13 Duel: Aeron Ashkyn (302), Harley Swoop (325), Douglas Biles (326), Saidy Dauntless (301), Kiara Mitchell (302), Violetta Nobel (325), & Jenessa Whitten (326)

Capitol Duel: Avian Monte (302), Josool Wiranda (325), Dexter Malon (325), Olympic Oblado (326), Shervert Wonkalandia (301), Flawra Moonshadow (325), Amelia Puregold (325), & Isolde Blair (326)

Alliances
(Note: These alliances are not final and are subject to change.)

Careers: Todd Evans (0), Cullinan Beryll (1), Jake Locketback (1), Elvis Alexander (1), Cole Harrison (1), Trinity Mace (1), Luigi Wilkins (2), Chloe Black (2), Pansy Costella (2), Dylan Murrow (4), Trident Bekke (4), Sheol Argos (4), Seth Rollins (5), Trent Korey (11), Luxray Meganium (14), Dean Ambrose (14), & Olympic Oblado (C)

Splinter Careers: Carmine Morrisa (2), Ena Shea (2), Zoey Proasheck (13), & Josool Wiranda (C)

Anti-Careers: Blade Spectrus (6), Wolbert Toonico (6), Frade Spectrus (7), Shade Spectrus (7), Crimson Typhoon (11), Daisy Lilac (11), Misty Honeysuckle (12), & Radiant Tayz (13)

Aelia's Alliance: Aelia Freedome (0), Anissa Fallows (1), Amore Madness (6), Luna Fern (6), Aisha Hakeem (8), Freya Prada (8), Ellis Blackberry (10), Annabelle Harret (11), Ganta Alomo (12), Falk Avian (12), Salem Calla (12), Amaya Lovelace (14), Amica Belle (14), & Mahogany Vesta (C)

700th Comment Alliance: Sebastian Hive (5), Watt Powers (5), & Thalia Combe (12)

District 3 & 12 Alliance: Rosalina Cosmic (0), Caspian Mahoney (3) & Curricular Lunes (12)

District 5, 8, 9, & 13 Alliance: Johnathan Mikeal (5), Banette Tsukomogami (8), Harvest Cropper (9), & Julian Veritas (13)

District 5, 9, & 10 Alliance: Amira Blodwen (9), Marlon Lander (10), & Ashley Curtis (5)

District 6, 7, & 8 Alliance: Amethystia Thall (7), Kennedy Marks (6), Camiren Paisley (8), Douglas Biles (13), & Jenessa Whitten (13)

District 7 & 8 Alliance: Frade Spectrus (7) & Josef Wilder (8)

District 9 Alliance: Jac Price (9) & Azalea Finch (9)

District 9 Alliance: Vera Luchabra (9) & Plasma Perimen (9)

District 10 Alliance: Billy McGranger (10), Madeva McGranger (10), & Fawn Talons (10)

Loners: Solar Energy (0), Courage Blitz (3), Ziya Ashton (3), Mizu Fall (4), Trick Treat (5), Axel Alex (7), Caliban Rweed (11), Adreanna Danish (13), & Kaneki Urashi (C)

Undecided: Rodeo Baldios (2), Noah Everest (3), Chip Parks (3), Stario Lucaren (6), Wocky Oak (7), Jet Flack (8), Cassie Lexys (10), Wess Cornstob (11), Ramon Constancy (C), & Flame Vapore (C)

Elvis Alexander (300th Games)
I'm in a very small room, there's absolutely nothing here but the tiled floors and ceiling that surround me. A metallic platform rests under my booted feet, ready to rise up and bring me into the Duel Arena.

Can't believe I'm even in this situation.

I've already been told what happened, how I got back into this place. How I need to kill every damn person who will join me in that small arena. Nine of us will enter but only two will leave. Only two will be in the 400th Hunger Games. They've given me some info cards to read to get myself adjusted to my opponents. The cards told me their names and how they performed in the Games but it's very light on the details. Still, I'm ready. I've prepared my entire life for the Games and I would have won my Games, the 300th, if it weren't for those treacherous traitors Di and Flick, jumping me from behind. My hands are already clenching into fists at my side at the mere thought of them.

The Games are meant to be played with honor. Those two knew nothing of honor. They were filthy cretins who lied, cheated, and stole their way through the Games. I wish they were in this Duel. Then I would wring their pathetic little necks.

"Prepare for Duel commencing!"

A robotic female voice comes through a speaker into my room. I shake my head vigorously, my blonde ponytail bouncing behind me. "Bring it on, baby!" I scream to the sky, ready for some violence. My body is ready.

"Platforms will now rise. Please stay in the center. Thank you."

I hear gears churning under my feet as the metal platform begins to rise. I'm excited, giddy almost. I don't think I've felt this level of anticipation since the first time I was brought into the arena. Apparently that was over a hundred years ago. Man, time flies when you're dead. The platform rises through the ceiling and then I'm in a dark tunnel. Very much like the arena. "I'm ready!" I howl as a light appears above my head. Then I arrive in the arena.

It's dark and after that bright light I can barely see anything, causing me to rub my eyes. It doesn't help but after a few seconds pass everything comes into focus. I'm in a cavern, of sorts. Dark musty rocks surround me, predictably smelling like soil and dirt. But that's not the attention grabbing. That's the giant diamonds.

Massive diamonds surround me, shining in the darkness. I don't see any outside light source for them to be reflecting, rather, it seems that they are the light source. "Coolio man!" I whistle as I stare at the diamonds, impressed. Plain white diamonds are the most common but there's others too, red diamonds, blue, green, yellow, even purple. There's one of just about every color.

I get so absorbed in watching these diamonds sparkle with their innate light that I don't even think to look around for other tributes. Not that there's any around. The cavern is dark and my view is impeded by this coolio diamonds. I'm supposing that the others are on platforms similar to mine. Just waiting out there...

A full minute passes before I realize something is wrong. There's been no announcement. No signal that the Duel has started. Nothing. What gives?

I bring my gaze back across the diamonds and cavern. I see nothing out of place. "Where's my signal, man?" I mutter aloud just before looking up. I don't know how I missed it before. A giant holographic screen shining on the roof of the cavern. Picture headshots of tributes are shown, along with their Games number. Nine District 1 tributes from five different Hunger Games stated down at me, my own face one of them. These are the losers, the dead. The tributes who died in their Games and weren't voted in to compete in the 327th. The ones nobody wanted to see compete again. My District partner from the 300th Games, Astrid Bellia, isn't among us. I'm pissed off I'm not with her and instead stuck here with the dregs. I am far above them!

Ding!

A quiet chiming noise echoes throughout the cavern, vibrating towards my ears. I'm just beginning to wonder what it means when one of the faces, the one of the girl from the 301st Hunger Games, blinks off. The portrait goes dark and red words scroll across reading "Deceased".

"Oh, hell no!"

I realize two things at once. One: That holographic screen is used to track whose still alive and fighting. And Two: The fact that someone has just died means that this Duel has already started. There is no announcement. The Duel just starts the moment you come into the arena.

I tighten my muscles and spring off of the platform. When my boot lands on the hard-packed dirt of the cavern, I have a brief fear that I'm wrong. That there will be landmines like in the Hunger Games. That I'll have my legs blown off. Luckily for me there's no explosion. My first guess was right, this Duel has already started.

I take off into the maze of diamonds, wondering how many of the others have already figured it out. At least one did. I mean, the girl didn't kill herself. I hope they haven't taken all of the weapons yet.

I've gone about ten feet forward when I skirt around a particularly large green diamond and come face to face with another tribute. The girl shrieks in alarm and jumps back. I make note of her long brunette hair with red highlights. It's one of the girls from the 325th Games. Skylar.

She throws her arms up for protection and I resist barking out laughter. What kind of District 1 tribute is she? She's an embarrassment to us all! I'll have no problem with fighting her. Too late the girl thinks to run. She's turned but my arms wrap around her and heave backwards. I don't have any weapons but I don't need any for this fight.

Skylar shouts for mercy as I grip my hands around her neck and slam her into the side of a diamond. She for silent immediately but I smash her head into the hard crystal several more times, just to make sure. After the fifth time her skull smacks into the diamond, I let go. Her neck hangs at an odd angle as she slips to the cold ground, leaving a long streak of blood across the beautiful diamond.

I spit and then crack my knuckles as another chime echoes through the cavern and Skylar's face dims. This should be fun.

Cole Harrison (325th Games)
Already two tributes have died. One of them being Skylar, a girl from my Games. I'm a bit torn seeing her dead. She was a terrible fighter, useless at almost everything. She was the first death of our Games after all. But she was also easy on the eyes. I'll miss her, if just for that.

I keep my ears open for any more chimes as I weave through the diamonds, in search of the weapons we were promised. No more chimes come as I reach what appears to be the edge diamond field. A large clearing rests in the center of all the diamonds that form a large circle around it. Crates full of weapons sit in an organized pattern, divided by weapon type. There's a crate full of swords, one with laces, axes, and spears. Just about every weapon I'd need. Great.

My eyes focused on a black handled spear, I step out into the clearing. Only then do I see the boy as he rises from the ground, a crimson liquid coating his hands and knees. Karma Blood. A boy from ny Games and a real freak at that. He loved to look at blood, collected it even. If that wasn't reason enough to hate him, there's also the fact that he betrayed me. "Where'd you get the blood, Karma?" I ask, stopping my progress. He lets out a low, sinister laugh and gestures at his feet.

"I found a pretty little donor!" He calls merrily and I see the girl. Blonde hair, green eyes. She was the first death of this Duel, Diamond Coman.

"You're a sick dude. You know that?" Diamond's throat had been torn open, revealing the bones and muscles inside. I can see the skin and blood under Karma's fingernails. No reason to wonder how it happened. He didn't even use a knife.

"Perhaps. But we all have our vices, don't we, Cole?" A smile spreads along his elongated face as he takes a step towards me. I spot the shape running out from the diamond maze and smile back.

"Yeah. Wonder what Warwickite's vices are?"

I take joy in the look of discomfort that crosses Karma's face right before Wariwickite blows into his back. The two boys fall to the ground, snarling as they wrestle for dominance. I don't know much about Warwickite. Just that he's from the 326th Games. But I trust he can handle Karma. I go sprinting for the spear I signalled out earlier but now I see that someone else has found the clearing. Raven Armor (302) slides a long katana out from the sword crate and grins wickedly at me.

"Game time, Cole!" My hands whip the spear out from its crate as I pass by, still sprinting at full speed. Raven sees me coming right for her and winds up swing at my head. Bad placement. I slide like a baseball player just as she unleashes the swing. She misses. I don't. My spear tip slices across her thigh and she drops to one uninjured leg, howling in pain. I spring back to my feet and thrust spear through the nape of her neck. Her howls of pain break off into bloody gurgles as the spear tip clogs her throat. She falls down, choking on her own blood as another chime goes off. "Oh yeah!" I give myself an imaginary high-five and turn to examine the clearing. Karma and Warwickite are still brawling, though it appears Karma is gaining the edge. I should go help--

"Think fast!"

I don't have time to think as a knife slices across the clearing, slashing into the tip of my spear and ripping it from my grasp. A girl with blonde haired tied back in a ponytail has appeared on the edge of clearing, a pair of throwing knives in hand. Where did she get those? Not from a crate, that's certain. But I don't have time to think about it. Kate (326) winds back her arm to throw another knife and I drop to the ground so hard that I swear I bruise my chest.

Not that I needed to. The knife doesn't even come for me. Instead, it cartwheels through the air and slams into the heart of an emerging Artemis, the second girl from my Games. She drops like a stone, dead on impact. Kate turns to me, priming the knife in her hand. "Crap."

I brace for another desperate dive when a figure lunges out from the diamond maze and grabs Kate from behind. I hear her squeal of panic as two thickly muscled arms wrap around her neck. She doesn't have time to use her knife before the arms give a sharp jerk and her neck snaps. She slides to the ground, dead.

Three more chimes go off as Elvis (300) stalks into the clearing. Instinctively, I look to the sky and the holographic scoreboard. The faces of Kate, Artemis, and Warwickite all dim at once, leaving only three more. Elvis, Karma, and myself.

"That was...most amusing," Karma rises from where Warwickite's body lies, stiff and unmoving. "He really knew how to fight. But still, he underestimated the power of one's fingers." He stretches his long fingers as he speaks and I grimace as I see the fresh blood that soaks them. Karma just smiles at me and pulls a sword out from a nearby crate. "Duel to the death? An honourable fight?" He asks, his voice dripping with mock politeness.

"No way. Two people can survive this Duel. Let's make it you and me. Let's just get him. He's unarmed!" I point towards Elvis, whose been watching our interaction with an emotionless face. Karma's crimson eyes flicker towards him and I see them light up when he sees I am right. Elvis has no weapons.

"Ah. I see. You wish to kill the weakling, avoid putting yourself at risk. Smart. Very smart." Karma sounds like a snake as he stops halfway between the two of us, his gaze flickering back and forth.

I shrug and pick up my fallen spear. "Seems like common sense, no? Why risk our own health when we could just team up and win unscathed?"

"Oh, you're clever. So very clever. But you see, I could never possibly bring myself to trust--"

His words turn into a brief scream of pain as my spear digs into his chest. He topples over and I race across the clearing, a wide grin on my face. "Of course you couldn't trust me! You already betrayed me once! No way was I letting it happen again, asshole!" I stomp on his face for emphasis, then a chime sounds. My spear pierced his heart, killed him instantly. Awesome.

"Coolio, man. Nice moves." Elvis comes walking towards me, applauding. His claps echo through the now deathly silent caverb. "Looks like you and me have something in common."

"Hmm?"

"We both really hate traitors!" He stops a few feet away from me and grins. After a moment I return it. I don't know this guy, but I already like him more than any allies I had in my first Games. I go to speak when trumpets interrupt and a voice I don't recognize speaks.

"Congratulations to the winners of the District 1 Death Duel! Elvis Alxexander and Cole Harrison! The two of you will join the pool of tributes competing in the 400th Annual Hunger Games!"

I grin like a fool as the voice fades and aan opening suddenly forms in the wall of the cavern. White suited people come pouring out and approach both me and Elvis. "We're the best District 1 has to offer," I tell him as the people begin to corrale us towards the opening that just formed. "And we should be the ones to lead the Careers!"

Teresa Silvers (325th Games)
When someone tells you that you've been asleep for over seventy-five years, you tend not to believe them. Except for when you consider that you've already died once and was somehow brought back to life. Then you'd believe anything they told you.

My room is empty and featureless, leaving absolutely no impression on me as I wait for this so-called "death duel" to begin. My mind is elsewhere anyways, focused on the family I once had. Are they dead now? Or just extremely old? I feel my stomach churn uncomfortably at either possibility. The fact that everyone I've ever known could be dead is...an unpleasant one. Very unpleasant.

I shuffle my feet around on the platform and try not to cry. Everyone I've ever loved is dead. Dead or an old, elderly person. What even awaits me back home? What would I return to? Is there even a point in winning these Games when I have nothing left? The only thing that I even feel slightly good about is the fact that the man who was stalking me when I was Reaped so long ago is dead too. I mean, he has to be dead, doesn't he?

"Prepare for Duel commencement."

A voice seeps into my small room and tears me from my thoughts. Beneath me, the metal platform has begun to stir and move.

"The platform will now rise. Please stay in the center. Thank you."

There's no sound as the platform begins to rise. I hear nothing but the thudding of my heart as I enter a dark tunnel and then emerge into a brand new locale. I recognize the room, though I've never been in one myself. Hammers and anvils, vats of molten metal and steamy pots of water. A musty smell hang in the air, one that reeks of iron and sweat.

I'm in a smithy

I'm just looking around for a few seconds when I notice the platforms that have risen beside me. Four of them. I recognize Chloe from my Games and then there's tiny Onyx (302) and arrogant Bethany (300). And a lone boy. A sneer is etched on his face as he leers at me with a very disturbing face. "I'm gonna kill you first!" He growls at me. His voice is low and menacing, his amber eyes filled with an insatiable bloodlust. I instinctively take a step back and too late do I remember that I'll have my legs blown off.

But I don't.

I don't have time to ponder this discovery before the boy hurtles off of his platform and comes sprinting towards me. Behind him, the other girls begin to fight. I shouldn't have stopped to watch that.

The boy's shoulders ram into my gut and he takes me to the ground. The square of my back smacks into the cold, cobbled bricks below and I feel the breath shoot out of me as the boy howls to the sky. "I am Drewsiff Bloodwonky! I am the blood hound!" He balls his hands into fists and sends them barreling down towards me but I roll out of the way, hearing the crack of his knuckles as they smash into the hard bricks. He screams and cradles his hands close as I bring my feet to my chest and then kick him hard in the gut. He falls back and I'm on him, hands gripped around his head. A stream of curses flow out of his mouth as I smack his skull back into the ground. His eyes roll up into his head and I hear a sickenly loud crack.

I let go and slump backwards, panting heavily. I feel no pity for the boy. He was a cold-blooded murderer who got what he deserved. I'm just worried about myself.

The smithy is alive with the sounds of fighting. Screams of pain, shouts of anger and the occasional chiming of a bell fill the air. I smell the scent of blood lingering in the air. Already I see Onyx (302) lies dead on the floor. Chloe and Bethany still fight nearby though. I don't want anything to do with them.

As I crawl behind the tables and anvils that litter the room, I finally notice that hologram on the ceiling. The faces of Onyx, Damian, and Drewsiff are already blanked out. Only seven left.

Eager to get a look at the other tributes, I cautiously rise up from the ground and look across the table I'm hidden behind. The giant boy, Yuki (325) is squaring off with Pansy (301). The crimson girl keeps dancing away from his grasp and he's getting visibly upset at his inability to catch her.

I hear movement behind me but I don't have time to react. A hand clamps over my mouth and then a voice speaks directly into my ear. "Go to sleep...."

Something sharp and metal cuts into my throat.

Pansy Costella (325th Games)
Yuki swings his massive fists towards me and I duck as his momentum sends his large frame barreling past me. He doesn't have a weapon, he doesn't need one. I've already seen how he killed my original District partner, Damian, with nothing but those fists of his. He's dangerous. "Stop moving!" He screams at me and once again sends a fist flying towards me. I roll sideways and avoid it.

"We both know I won't do that!" A grin forms on my face as he grunts and spins around much faster than I thought possible. He strikes me across the face with a massive backhand and I go sprawling to the floor, agony ripping through my jaw. Probably have a broken molar. Whiplash too. No time to think on it, Yuki stomps towards me and I roll, avoiding the deadly foot. "Just give up, you fat bastard!" I scream at him as I fall back towards the tables. I see a handled vat.

"Never!" He snarls and charges. I don't move.

Confusion crosses his face halfway towards me. He doesn't understand why I am not running, why I am not dodging. He soon learns why.

I smash my hand down onto the handle and the vat flies forward, spewing molten metal into Yuki's face and eyes. There's a delightful sizzling sound as Yuki stumbles backwards, howling and screaming as the metal burns his face and eyes. Pulling a long metal nail off of the table, I savagely kick Yuki in the knee, causing him to drop to my height.

He's still screaming. The metal has begun to merge with his face, a very painful looking thing. A smile crosses my face as I realize he's done for. "Shoulda just gave up!" I hoist the nail up and drive it into his chest, once, twice, thrice. His body gives one massive jerk and then he drops like a stone. Dead.

A chime goes off as I look away from the boy and observe the rest of the fighting. The Clarke siblings have Chloe cornered now. Johnny (300) holds a wicked hammer in his hands as the two of them approach the trapped girl.

"Looks like you have no weapons!" Bethany sneers at her. Chloe spits defiantly in he face. Bethany wipes it away and grins. "Oh, you shouldn't have done that!"

"Your death will be much more painful now!" Johnny agrees. The two of them step forward and then Johnny gives a half shout and falls to his knees. Bethany is screaming in shock as she sees the knife sticking out from his back. She didn't see what I did. Jeffrey (326) has slunk out from the shadows and is racing across the smithy, his knife in Johnny's back.

Bethany screams again as Jeff rips the knife back out from her brothers back. What an idiot. Jeff slashes the knife forward and her screams turn into gurgles as blood flows from a new gash in her throat. Jeff watches as she falls to the ground beside her dead brother. Two more chimes go off. Then a heavy metal hammer smashes in his skull.

He never saw it coming.

Jeff is dead on impact but Chloe continues to wail on his body, smashing it until he's an unrecognizable bloody mess. I position my fingers around the nail, ready to send it hurtling into Chloe's skull.

"Congratulations to the survivors of the District 2 Death Duel! Pansy Costella and Chloe Black!"

I hear the voice announce our victory. I just don't care. Chloe is still going to die. It'll just be one less opponent for me when the Games begin. I'm about to throw when a whistling noise pierces the air and my body is suddenly frozen. I can't move a muscle, everything is stiff as I feel an unknown energy pulsing through my body. Then the doors of the smithy open up and doctors pile in, followed by Peacekeepers.

They surround me and Chloe, who also appears to be frozen. One of the doctors stands in front of me. "You naughty little girl!" He waves a scolding finger at me as he grins. "Trying to get the drop on the competition? I'm afraid that just won't do." I try to tell him to go slag himself but I can't. So this immobility extends to my speech too. Swell. Just swell. The man turns to the others and barks out orders. "Get them out of here. They have a Hunger Games to compete in."

Noah Everest (300th Games)
I feel like I'm trapped back in that horrid cell as I nervously pace across my small room. Soon I'll be brought into an "arena" and be forced to fight with my fellow prisoners. Only two will survive. The rest must die.

I guess we should be grateful they're at least letting two of us live. I would have thought only one would survive.

"Prepare for Duel commencement."

I position myself in the exact center of the platform and wait as it slowly begins to rise. I wonder what our surroundings will be. They said it'd be something similar to our District export, so electronics, perhaps?

Yes. Yes, it's electronics. The platform rises into a command hub-like area. Giant, complex plasma monitors line the walls behind me and the other tributes. All of our platforms are placed in a circle around a ring of computers on a raised circle. Four stairways from each direction, north, south, east and west, lead up to the circle. In the center of the circle, I see a table. Laden with knives, wires and all sorts of electronic goodies.

Those will be our weapons.

The other tributes seem confused, dazzled by the lights of the plasma screens that show nothing but static. I'm the only one that has noticed there's no countdown. Nothing showing how long we have to stay on our platforms. Now, this can mean one of two things. Either they want someone to explode or there is no countdown.

I'm betting its the latter.

I've learned from my past mistakes. I lost the 300th Games and died because I ran from a fight, ran straight into a forcefield while fleeing. Well, this time I don't intend to run from the fighting. I'm going to run towards it.

The tributes near me don't even react as I hurtle off of the platform. They just watch as I pound up the stairs, heading for the table and weapons. I thought District 3 was supposed to be smart? I guess not. Maybe that's why we're all here instead of living a life of luxury in the Capitol.

I reach the top of the stairs and see that at least one other tribute has the same idea as me. Rebel Groots, the long haired emo kid from the 326th Games has just ascended the north staircase. We both stop to stare at one another and then lunge for the table.

He predictably grabs a knife, I grab the handle of a smooth black tazer. Within seconds he's slashing the knife at me. I dodge and then slide the switch on the taser from "Off" to "On", a small hum of electricity tells me that it's now active. Good.

Rebel swings for my head and I duck it, stepping forward to meet him. There's a flash of surprise in his eyes and then my taser pokes into his ribs.

There's a sharp crackling sound of electricity and then Rebel begins to convulse uncontrollably. Brilliant blue arcs of electricity race across his body, frying his innards. His eyes roll back into his head, his clothes smoke and sizzle and then he's falling to the floor.

The taser killed him within seconds.

There's no sense of grief, no loss. He wasn't a person. None of us are people. We lost our humanity back when we died in our Games. We lost our families, our friends and our dreams. We lost everything we cared about. Now we're just empty husks, husks with nothing to live for except life itself.

"Oh, God..."

A small feminine voice brings notice to the other tributes. It seems all of them are here now, standing on the edge of the four stairwells, watching me. They all seem shocked, terrified even. One of the girls (Elecctronny from the 325th Games I think) is shaking. The rest watch me with fearful gazes. I have the best weapon. I have the taser. I have the means of dealing death here. That makes me the target.

"Are we gonna get him or what?" A small, impish girl sneers from the eastern stairs. Di Thorn. My District partner. Despite only being twelve years old she was a psychopath. Someone obsessed with killing and maiming. I wasn't surprised when she joined the Careers.

"Just try it, Di!" I position my body to face her and tighten my grip on the taser. "Let's finally see who'd win a fight between the two of us!"

A smirk crosses her khaki face. "I don't have to fight you."

The sound of his footsteps slapping on the smooth floor give him away. I turn just as he's grabbing a knife from the table. Elecc (325) has a short scream as my taser jabs him and then he's on the ground, shaking as errant streaks of white heat snake around him. I passively watch as the electricity ebbs away and leaves his prone body, smoking slightly. "Anyone else want to try their hand?" I ask, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I need to appear strong, unimpressed by their numbers. Or else I'll perish.

I spin around, gazing at the remaining six tributes. They don't answer me, their faces are stony and silent. Then one of then comes rushing towards me.

I hold my taser out but the boy slides to his knees and holds his hands together. "Please! Don't kill me! I'm with you, Noah! Two of us can live, just let me help you and we can win this together!" The boy looks up to me with pleading blue eyes hidden behind wired glasses. His beanie hat covers his ruffled brown hair and I recognize him as the boy kept in the cell across from me, the one who always cried for his family. I can't kill him.

"Then get up!" With one hand I pull the boy to his feet. He flashes me a small smile and then grabs a knife off from the table with trembling fingers. The two of us face the others.

"Chip! We were allies in the Games!" A brunette girl shouts to my new ally. Beside her, Electronny cries silent tears. "Are you just going to abandon us now? Kill us even? Just so you can stay alive?"

Chip opens his mouth but doesn't speak. He's conflicted; He wants to help his friends but he also wants to live. And I give him the best chance of living. The girl waits for him to say something but he doesn't. He keeps his gaze fixed on the floor and I shake my head. "Are you saying you wouldn't kill him?" I challenge the girl, Vision (325). "That you'd rather kill Elecctronny then him?" I gesture at the small frightened girl beside her. "No? Then shut up and fight. People have to die. And it doesn't matter who--"

A heavy weight drops onto my shoulders, drives me to the floor. The taser slips from my fingers and slides across the floor as chaos breaks out. Vision and Elecctronny charge forward as another girl grabs Chip from behind. I go to help when I'm spun around and faced with the snarling vestige of Di. "Think you're some kind of visionary?" She growls as her fist strikes me access the face. "With your pretty speeches and making allies out of the downtrodden?" Her blows disorient and then her slender hands slip around my neck and pull me up. "Well, you're not. You're no visionary. You're just another forgettable kid!" She smashes my head into the keyboard for one of the computers. The keys clack as my head screams in agony as she repeats the process. She brings my head down for the fourth knock when I catch the side of the table with my hands. I throw an elbow into her ribs and she let's out an Oomph! of pain, giving me the opportunity to shove her away and dive across the floor.

I slide across to the other side, stopping right next to the taser. I hear Di shouting angrily and then I roll onto my back as she throws herself towards me. Unfortunately for her, she just lands on the business end of a tazer.

Spittle flies from her mouth as the electricity sparks her body. Her arms and legs kick out as she falls backwards, contorting unnaturally as she rolls and throbs. Then she goes still, dead at last.

I give myself only a few seconds to breathe easy and survey my surroundings. The chaos that had started just a moment ago has already created casualties. Elecctronny lies dead on the cold floor, her neck bent at an odd angle. Syren (302) is on top of Vision, squeezing a thin wire around her throat. I think it's barbed, because blood begins to flow from where the wire touches skin. And finally, Bethunia (301) is kicking and beating away at Chip as he lies on the floor, curled in a ball.

It's her who I attack first. I spring to my feet and jab Bethunia square in the back with the tazer. She goes down like the rest, kicking and convulsing. Nothing new here. Just another unnecessary death. "Are you okay?" I pull Chip to his feet and give him a thorough look over. His lip is bloodied and black bruises cover his face but nothing looks too serious or fatal.

"Y-yeah...I think..." He coughs feebly and then, when he looks up, a flash of horror crosses his face. "Noah! Behind you!"

I'm tossed backwards to the floor. A foot stomps on my ribs and I hear a loud crack. Breathing becomes difficult and I see the face of Syren as she looks down on me. She was a Career recruit in her Games. Brutality is just second nature. She smiles and lifts her foot to crush my skull when a new expression forms. Confusion.

Her eyes glance downwards but she never sees what happened. Her knees buckle she collapses to the ground, I see the knife buried in her back and realized what happened.

Chip.

He doesn't even say anything to me. He just drops to the ground and curls back into a ball, sobbing and crying out for someone named Kinsey. Nothing else moves. All of the other tributes are dead, leaving us as the two survivors. "Congratulations to us," I mutter sarcastically and try to sit up. I can't. My ribs hurt too much so I'm forced to settle with leaning back against the computers.

The air is scented with blood and burnt flesh. Some of the dead tributes still smoke from the effects of the taser. I say no more and think of nothing as I sit in the room of death. Chip is still sobbing, but quietly now. I think he now calls for his parents. Poor boy.

I lean my head back and close my eyes, waiting for the moment when the Capitol will come for us and put me in the Hunger Games, where I will regrettably kill once more.

Trident Bekke (302nd Games)
I'm not nervous, I'm not concerned, and I'm definitely not frightened. One thing I am is excited. Excited for the possibility of living once more.

Being dead sucks. You don't do anything cool, you don't do anything at all! At least, what I remember of it. Which isn't anything. Which is kinda weird really. I remember being stabbed by that hot girl from District 7 and then I don't remember a thing until some Capitol dude wakes me up and claims to have resurrected me. Something is off about that. I don't know what, but something is. Feels like I'm missing something obvious...something--

"Prepare for Duel commencement."

I look up to the ceiling and flash one of my most charming smiles. "Okay, lady. Whatever you say. "Just make sure I get up there in one piece, ya know?"

The platform rises and next thing I know, I'm in the middle of some sort of ocean or whatever. Pure blue water surrounds me and in the distance a large rocky outcropping shines under a bright yellow sun. "Woah. That's bright!" I squint my eyes from the intense sunlight so it's several more seconds before I notice the beautiful girls that surround me.

There's four of them and they're all standing on platforms like me, meaning they're also tributes. Three of them are positioned to my right and the other is on my left. All of them look to the outcropping in the distance, which I can now see is surrounded by a stretch of sand and littered with tools used back in District 4. Nets, fishing hooks, tridents, bidents, harpoons, etcetera, etcetera. Boring stuff. I look to the girl to my left, a tan orange-haired hotty with green highlights and call out. "Hey, beautiful. You have anything goin' on tonight?"

She looks to me with a twinkling eye and cunning grin. "Oh, I don't know. I might be celebrating a few killings, nothing much."

I go to respond when another girl, a brunette and the hottest girl in this row of platforms, interrupts with a shout. "What the hell are they waiting for?! Get this started already!"

"Wow. You're a frisky one, ain't chu?"

The girl spins to face me, armed with a glare that would make most shiver in fear. I just smile and wink. "If you're so bored, you could entertain me. I really think--"

"She's moving! She's moving!"

The first girl I spoke to, Seafoam I think I remember her name from the brief info we were given, is shouting and pointing behind the brunette. Another girl, a creamy haired blonde, has stepped off her platform with a dazed look on her face. It sounds like she's speaking to herself.

"Gonna have to pass on that offer," The brunette cackles gleefully and jumps off her platform, splashing into the two foot deep water. "Because this game has just begun!" She sprints for the girl who moved, Nymph (325), and pairs her up. Then she strikes forward with a lightning quick bladejab and the girl goes falling to the water, her trachea almost assuredly broken from the force of that blow. "Wow. She really knows how to fight, eh?" I speak to Seafoam (326) before realizing that she has already gone sprinting for the outcropping. Dang, these girls really love to kill don't they? I like it. Makes them much more...interesting.

The fourth girl on the platforms, Kaylay from the 300th, goes charging Miss Kills-A-Lot in what has to be the worst idea in the history of forever. Kaylay throws a punch that's easily dodged and then Fressa, for that is her name, grabs her in a arm bar and jerks back, effectively breaking Kaylay's right arm.

The girl howls in pain and then Fressa just pulls her into a headlock and does what she did to the arm again. Only this time it's Kaylay's neck that breaks. "You're not very smart, are you?" Fressa drops the body and watches it float neck to Nymph's.

"You talking to me?" I smile coyly as she turns around. Her gorgeous brown eyes are filled with a bloodlust as she coldly regards me.

"Who else would I be speaking to, stupid? A fish?" She laughs scornfully and begins to approach me, which I actually find more exciting than terrifying. "You should have ran with Seafoam. Why didn't you?"

I shrug as if we're speaking about something trivial. "I just like watching hot girls kick ass."

"Well, you're gonna die now. I hope it was worth it!" She lunges for me but I hop our of her reach and wag a knowing finger.

"Ah, ah, ah! You should really get to that outcropping. Because if you don't, someone else will claim those weapons. Someone much bigger and stronger than me."

"You got lucky."

She turns and runs. Just like that. I watch as she sprints for the outcropping, marvelling her perfect form. I really hope she lives. I'd much rather her be my co-survivor so than some sweaty muscle-head.

Fressa Saltie (325th Games)
Already the others have reached the outcropping, already they've begun fighting. Wari (301) lies dead on the sand. I curse my own ineptitude. I should have killed Trident within seconds and then came here right away. Now I'm at a disadvantage.

At the outcropping, it's Wayne (325), the giant who had rejected the Careers invitation in his Games, who draws the most attention. He sits in the center of the sandy turf, a trident in each hand as he circles around to keep everyone in his field of view. No one wants to take the risk of being the first to charge him. No one is that stupid--

A boy suddenly darts forward, a harpoon in his hand. Foolishly he raises it to spear Wayne but he's given the boy far too much time to react. Cody doesn't even have time to strike before one of Wayne's tridents hits him in the chest and he goes tumbling into the sand. Moron.

But still, his charge didn't go to waste. Flick, the runner-up of the 300th Games and a boy who looks more like a man, sees that Wayne is distracted and chucks his own bident into the giants leg. As Wayne howls and drops to one knee, Flick charges forward, ducks under the giants swinging trident, and throws his entire body into him. They fall to the sandy floor and begin to brawl just as Giller, one of my allies from the 325th Games and about the only one I didn't betray, comes jogging up to the outcropping. I see my opportunity. "Giller! Finish off the winner of that brawl! I'll end Seafoam!" Always the obedient one, he nods and pulls the harpoon from the dead Cody's hands. I turn to face Seafoam with manic grin.

"Wait. What?" The daft girl doesn't understand what just happened and by the time she has even an inkling of it, I've tackled her to the ground and pried the fish hook she held so proudly from her hand. Her desperate eyes watch mine as I use the hook to slice her throat open.

She dies just like the rest. Her life bleeds out of her, smearing in the sand and being washed into the water, where it turns a pale pink. She was worthless. An easy kill.

"Fressa! Fressa! I need help, Fress--"

A wet gurgle cuts off Giller's screams and I turn to see Flick ripping the harpoon from his neck. Dark crimson blood stains his hands and I see Wayne lying stiffly on the sand. This guy is good.

"I intend to come out of here alive," Flick says as he faces me, twirling a trident with his deft fingers. "Will you let me?""

"Is that it? You're so frightened you won't win that you've resorted to begging?" I sneer at him, showing my utter contempt for everything he is. He shrugs modestly.

"Not really. I was just being a gentleman," He gives a dramatic sigh and then looks at me with a sly smile. "Guess I'll just have to kill you."

I'm expecting him to throw the trident, so I'm taken back by his feint. He crosses the gap between us in a few seconds, his long legs giving him the advantage. I'm forced to duck and dodge to stay alive, no easy task. The tip of his trident catches me twice, once on the thigh and the other against my forearm. Both leave bleeding cuts.

"You're fast," He says when I duck under one of his ridiculously powerful thrusts.

"Or you're slow," He grins at my retort and thrusts again. This time I'm not quick enough to duck and I yelp in pain as the tip of my ear is sliced open. His grin widens.

"I'd say that you're fast. But maybe not fast enough."

He unleashes a flurry of strikes, I dodge them all until I step into the blunt end of the trident as he brings it forward. Flick follows up by smacking me in the crown of the head and then I'm sprawled on the ground, completely at his mercy. His eyes glint as he readies himself to finish me.

"Deus ex machina."

"Huh?" He doesn't pause as he brings the trident down where my head once was. But I've moved it just a few inches, prolonging my life for another moment.

"Deus ex machina," I repeat. "Deus ex machina is a plot device whereby a seemingly unsolvable problem is suddenly and abruptly resolved by the contrived and unexpected intervention of some new event, character, ability or object. And it's gonna happen right now."

The confusion on his face turns to fear as he spins around to face the person coming to my rescue. Only thing is, no one is coming to my rescue. When he sees no one in sight he spins back to face me but he already took the bait.

My foot smashes him between the legs and he cries and screams as he collapses. I don't waste time mounting him and slicing his throat with the same fish hook I used upon Seafoam. Deus ex machina indeed.

I stand and wipe my bloodstained hands on my shirt as I survey the outcropping. I've won. Everyone else is dead. I smile as the announcement confirms this. But the smile fades when it mentions the other survivor.

Trident Bekke.

"Hey toots, glad you took care of them all for me!" I see the boy as he comes jogging through the water, his blonde moppish hair bouncing along. A cold angry burns in my chest as I realize that I've been used. He sent me here to fight and kill his competition while he sat back and did nothing. Clever. Usually I'd appreciate such thinking, but not when it's used against me. "You're a real sweetheart, ya know?" A grin forms on Trident's face and I go to respond when I realize that I can no longer move. Shapes writhe in the distance, Peacekeepers or scientists sent to retrieve us. They must have immobilized me in case I was going to attack Trident. I wasn't. I have an entire Hunger Games ahead of me, full of opportunities for my revenge. I can wait a while longer.

I'm a patient person.

Sebastian Hive (325th Games)
I'm quite possibly the most prepared tribute in these Duels. I'm most assuredly the most prepared one from District 5. I've looked over the info cards they prepared for us countless times. I know my enemies weaknesses, their strengths, I know how they died, what their Games strategy was and how they failed in it. I know just about everything valuable about them.

And now I will kill them.

My platform rises, brings me into the duelling arena. Other tributes rest on their platforms beside me, their nervous eyes taking in the surroundings. We're on a long platform, the ground a see through mesh grid. Beneath us I can see the crackling electricity arcing across the ground. Behind me is a small concrete flooring in the back of the room. A large machine of sorts rests on it. I haven't the faintest idea what it is for.

But he does.

I see his plump red face, his body and it's rolls of fat, the glasses on his face and his messy red hair. Watt Powers, male tribute from the 301st Annual Hunger Games. Unlike the other tributes who've lined themselves up to face forward, he does the opposite. He stares at the machine with a delighted grin on his fat face, like he just got the most magnificent present for Christmas.

Very curious.

There is no gong, no signal that the competition has begun. One moment we're just standing there idly and the next a girl is rushing off of his platform. I recognize her face from the info cards. Allie Costigan from the 300th Annual Hunger Games. She's the first to realize there's no timer but the others follow suit. Soon they all go rushing for the center of the grid, away from platforms.

Except for Watt.

He watches the others run with a grin etched on his face and then he plops off of his platform and goes waddling for the machine. I simply must find out what is so special about it.

I follow the boy as he drops beside the machine and casually pries a panel off of it, revealing a mess of wires and electrical sockets. He goes to meddle with these when I grab him around the shoulder and he yelps in fear. "Don't kill me!" He screams pathetically without even turning around. "I can fry the others! You can win without even lifting a finger!"

Peculiar. "How so?" I ask the boy and he finally turns around. I grimace as I see his fat jowels flap about as he speaks.

"I--See the grid? The meshy wire like stuff?" He points at the ground that covers every inch of the room except for the small area where we stand.

"Of course I see it! Do you think I am daft, goodman?"

"No!" Terror lights his eyes as he thinks he has offended me. I can't hold back a laugh at how awestruck this little piggy is. "I would never! I wouldn't--"

"Cut to the chase. I have no time for this nonsense." Already I can hear the other tributes fighting. I hear their yells and screams. Curiously, there doesn't seem to be any provided weapons. They fight with their fists alone.

"Okay. Okay. Well, That mesh is used in the power plants back in District 5. Which this whole area is meant to resemble, obviously."

I nod. "Of course. I knew that right away." This is a lie. I've never stepped foot inside a plant, much less know what one looks like. But no point in making myself look inferior. "But what does this machine have to do with this?"

"I'm getting there. The mesh is used to channel electricity from either room to room or plant to plant. Vast amounts can travel through it without frying the wires, however the grid itself is very hazardous. One touch would kill you instantly. And that machine," He jerks a thumb at the metallic contraption behind us. "Is what generates the electricity. When turned on the entire gird will become alive with enough electricity to kill twelve elephants."

"Can you turn it on?" I ask eagerly. The thought of being able to kill every single tribute in this room without having to do it manually is...enthralling, to say the least.

"Uh, hello?" The fatty pulls against my grip and I let go. "That's what I was doing before you stopped me! It'd already have been done and we could be sitting in a comfy room eating poptarts and..."

"Get to work," I quickly interrupt him. "I'll watch your back and make sure you have enough time." He blinks in confusion and then I see that look again. He's still awestruck.

"Does this mean we're allies?" His voice is high with excitement.

"For now, yes. But get to work!" I give him a sharp shove and he nods with ecstasy as he turns to fiddle with the exposed wires. I watch the others as they fight, punching and kicking with all their strength. There's still no weapons and I now know why. This machine is meant to be our weapon. I suppose that the Gamemakers thought we'd all know what it did. They certainly wouldn't have anticipated that only the fatty would know it.

Thinking of the fatty, he would make an intriguing ally once we enter the Games. In my last Games I made one crucial mistake. I only recruited hardened killers and no one else. Mayhap I would have won, if I had been in the same arena as my allies, but nonetheless, I wound up dead on the jungle floor. I will not allow that to happen again.

Allana (325), one of my original allies, is in this Duel. She's punching and biting with the rest right now. She'll die when Fatty activates the machine. I do not care for her at all, she was a useless ally to me. And the only reason I keep allies is for their usefulness. "Nearly done!" Fatty calls over his shoulder as he continues to do something with the open panel. "Just a couple more moments!"

"You better hurry," I tell him grimly as a tribute suddenly comes straight towards us. "Because it looks like we have company."

It's not just a District 5 scrub who challenges me. It's Philo Ventus (326), the giant who stayed hidden for the entirety of his Games until the finale. He would have won if he hadn't been struck down from behind whilst finishing someone off.

"You looking for something?" I ask the giant with a polite nod of the head. Manners are crucial, even when dealing with a horrid beast like Philo. His eyes just flicker to Fatty and the machine, a peculiar look crossing his face. Then it transforms into a glare. "Ah. I see that you understand what is happening!" I laugh lightly and step forward to block his path towards Fatty. "I did not expect a mangy mongrel like yourself to understand the principles of electricity. I would have thought that even simple fire would be too much for you."

His massive hands curl into fists at his side. He doesn't like to be insulted. Good. "They said you were a kind person, a gentle giant of sorts. Someone who innately disliked fighting. But I know the truth. It's not that you dislike fighting, you're just afraid of it. You're a bleeding heart coward!"

His nostrils flare and he steps even closer. "I don't like bullies."

A smile crosses my face. "And I don't like giant freaks who have no place in society."

His fist flies for me but I know it's coming. His initial blow misses and he tries with his left hand and this goes the same way. I was taught how to fight by the finest trainers in District 5, I've spent years learning the fine art of combat, understanding how my enemy works and how to avoid his attack. This ignoramus just throws punches as hard as he can without even the semblance of subtlety or planning. I could dodge him for days.

His attacks keep coming hard and fast but I continue to duck and weave past them. He's getting annoyed and grunts in exasperation with each missed strike. When I see an opening I step forward and deliver three quick jabs to his ribcage before bounding back again as his fists seek my head. He always misses.

The battle continues on like this. He attacks. I dodge. I counter his attack. He desperately tries to drop me. He fails. Repeat. I'm convinced that I don't even need Fatty's help when a massive fist comes for my head and I dodge out of the way. Straight into another fist.

It smacks me in the stomach and drops me to the ground. I groan and cough, feeling like I've just been hit by a truck. Philo stomps his boot down on my ankle and I scream as I feel the crack rip through my body. My first mistake was not seeing his feint. My second was not rolling when I had the chance.

"Seb! I got it!" Fatty jumps to his feet and waves frantically for me, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Hurry up and get on the concrete before the grid turns on!"

Philo's huge head turns to face him and that's when I raise my uninjured leg and kick him in the gut. Fatty screams for me as I begin to hobble towards the slab of concrete and the machine. I wish he would shut up. The other tributes are beginning to notice us and will soon figure out what he means by "the grid will turn on".

I'm almost there when I hear Philo running after me, his giant legs pounding against the mesh grid. Fatty clutches a switch on the machine and I scream for him to pull it when I dive for the concrete.

He pulls it.

I don't see the result but I hear it. The crackling sound of the machine turning on and then the simultaneous screams of the tributes as electricity tears through their bodies, Philo's included. It only lasts for a few seconds and then there's a mechanical whirring and the screaming stops. A pudgy hand pulls me up. "Ha ha! Look at em'! There all skeletons!" Fatty crows viciously as I stand on one good leg, grimacing when I see my twisted right ankle. I pray that the Gamemakers will have it fixed before plopping me in the Games. "They all thought I was an easy kill! Well, guess they were all wrong, weren't they?" Fatty continues to boast about his accomplishments as I stare out at the grid. He wasn't lying when he said they were skeletons. The tributes who weren't as smart as we were lie dead, just a charred skeleton amid the ruins of a battlefield. That electricity was even stronger than I thought.

"Good job, Watt," I clap Fatty on the shoulder and give him a proud smile. "You showed them alright."

"Yeah! Yeah I did!" He's like a puppy. Give him praise and treats and in exchange he'll be loyal to you. He'd make a most excellent ally in the Games. "We make a great team!" He puffs out his pudgy chest and strikes a ridiculous pose. I tell him he looks quite heroic and he grins stupidly.

"Will you ally with me in the Games?" I ask him, knowing that the answer won't be anything other than a resounding yes. His grin somehow widens even further.

"Yeah! Of course! We'll be like, the most unstoppable team ever! Everyone will fear us! I have the brain, you have everything else!"

I chuckle softly and clap him on the shoulder. Such a naive boy. Naive, but admirable. His intelligence is unparalleled but he has much to learn about everything else. Still, he is the best ally I could ever hope for. Someone who is undeniably loyal to me and yet is not a threat to me in the slightest.

The two of us will conquer the 400th Games.

Cosmo Fyngelli (300th Games)
I stand on the platform of a train station as the platform finishes its ascent. Behind me is a solid brick wall and there's two more platforms ahead of me, across two sets of train tracks. One of the platforms rests in between the two tracks and has a metal table laden with items. The other is on the far side of the station. I see five tributes on their platforms there.

Just like us.

Four tributes are in the same platform as I. Two of them are to my right, two to my left. When we first arrived they all looked around at each other but now they don't give anyone a second look. We're all just focused on what must be done.

I take a shaky breath as a signal lamp that hangs above the near track suddenly lights up. A frown crosses my face but three of the tributes surrounding me take it as a sign that the Duel has begun.

They spring off of their platforms like rabbits, not bothering with me and the small girl who have remained motionless. They don't hear the rumbling that comes from the dark tunnel, they don't listen to the flashing light on the signal lamp as it bleeps and bloops rapidly.

Their ignorance is death.

A train comes speeding out from the tunnel. One of the high-tech ultra trains that we of District 6 build for the Capitol. It can travel up to speeds beyond three hundred miles per hour. Those poor tributes never had a chance.

One second they're racing across the track, the next they're swallowed by the train. I cry out in horror as I hear the terrible sounds of cracking bones and ripping flesh. Squirts of red spew out from under the train, splashing my face and making me gag, sickened by the sight. Then, only mere seconds later, the train disappears back down the opposite tunnel.

There's hardly anything left of the tributes who ran. There's just bits of torn flesh and fragments of bone. A slimy, crimson grist sticks to the tracks and the station reeks of fresh blood and death.

''Ding! Ding! Ding!''

Three separate chimes go off, three faces in the sky blank out. Illegal Drugs (302), Belladonna Saware (300) and Blondie Genesis (326) no longer live. Only seven tributes left.

Despite the horror that now swims in my thoughts I force myself to run forward. Death is coming and I need to be proactive to avoid it. The scraps of bloody flesh left behind by the train squish under by feet as I sprint across the track towards the center platform. I try not to vomit as I scrabble up onto the platform.

Another boy comes from the opposite side. He's tall and lean, a wiry sort of boy that always looks like he's about to flee. Except he doesn't flee; He instead runs for the table. I'm not fast enough to reach it before him. His long legs give him ample time to arrive at the square wooden table and pluck his desired weapon off of it. A steering wheel.

Wait.

A steering wheel?!

My mouth falls open in shock and then I shake my head furiously to clear my thoughts. The table only holds items that pertain to our District. Only things like tire irons, gears, pipes, and a whole sort of other stuff that I don't recognize. But I'm still confused. Why'd he pick a steering wheel?

The heavy wheel smashes down onto the crown of my head. In my confusion the boy had closed the gap between us and now beats me down with the wheel. It's a better weapon then it looks. I roll into a kneeling position and throw a punch at the boy's thigh. He blocks of but then I throw ny hands around his waist and pull him towards me. He goes flipping over my head and lands in the pit of the train tracks, very much alive but now covered with a bloody red grist.

Not my problem, I think. The table is still there with the weapons and I plunge towards it, my hands wrapping around the first thing I lay eyes on. But I haven't even had time to pull it towards me when a heavy object slams into the back of my skull.

Wolbert Toonico (325th Games)
Cosmo (300) doesn't utter a sound as my tire iron slams into his skull. The wound leaves no blood but there's a dent in his head, such a deep dent that I have no doubt that he will die, if he hasn't already.

It's a terribly sad sight, seeing that poor boy lying lifeless on the table, slowly sliding back to the ground. He didn't deserve this. None of us do. But it's what we've got, what we have to deal with. Kill or be killed. That's just what has to happen.

I hate myself for rationalizing the murder I just committed.

Because that's what it is. Murder. No matter how much you dress it up or how you present it, every single kill committed in this Duel or inside of the Hunger Games is murder. It doesn't matter if it's in self-defence or if you're just a maniacal psychopath, if you killed you've murdered. And we're all going to have to live with its effects for the rest of our lives. I wonder how long that will be for me.

Xavier (301) rises from the tracks where he was thrown. Cosmo had managed to avoid him and his deadly steering wheel but I don't think I'll have the same luck. I'm going to have to kill him. The tire iron is locked firmly in my hand as the boy watches me cautiously. I notice his eyes flicker around the platform, searching for the other tributes. Surprisingly they haven't yet came here.

Xavier's eyes suddenly spin towards me and he dives. I throw my iron up to block it but it was only a feint and no attack comes. I frown as I realize that the boy is trying to figure out my weak point, see how best to get me. I can't allow him to do that.

He sees me as I come for him, he raises the wheel over his head as if that would protect him. It doesn't. The tire iron cracks into his ribs and as he bends over in shock and pain, I smash the iron back into the center of his skull.

He dies as quickly as Cosmo did and that familiar sensation of guilt and despair is back. I don't want to be a Reaper. I don't want to be the killer of kids. But I must if I wish to live.

''Ding! Ding!''

Two chimes go off. Only five of us are still breathing right now and I gaze around the train station, looking for the others. The platform opposite of the one I started on, the one Cosmo came from, seems deserted. Just empty pillars and benches, no tributes in sight. They all must have been taken out by the train.

With the tire iron in hand I hop back across the tracks to the platform I began on. There I see the three tributes who were positioned next to me and Xavier. And it's a disturbing sight.

Two small girls lie on the ground, one screaming the other moaning. Eleith (325) and Bluffy (302). "You like what I have done?" Zak (325) snickers as he turns to face me, a long rail spike that drips with blood clenched in his hand. "I think these whiny babies look much better now, don't you?" His hand gestures at the two girls. Bluffy has her hands pressed to her eyes, screaming hysterically. With a jolt I see the blood that seeps from behind her protective grasp.

"I can't see! I can't see!" Her screams are repetitive and pitiful, making me feel an anger that I have not felt in a very long time.

"Yes," Zak grins ghoulishly at me. "I put out her eyes. They were nasty little things. You wouldn't have liked them." I can't believe he's so nonchalant about this. That he can joke and laugh after torturing a small, defenceless girl. She was only twelve... "And Eleith, well, I didn't just stab her." He carelessly points out the second girl and I don't even look. I don't want to know what this monster did.

"Why?" My eyebrows pinch together as I feel a overwhelming desire to smash his face to pieces. "Why would you do this? The goal is to kill. Not torture."

His face is quiet and cruel. "I lost Mimic. Nothing matters anymore. I feel nothing but pain and despair. Why shouldn't you all feel the same?"

His cruel red eyes drop to his feet. I'm wondering if he actually feels sorry when lightening fast he swings his spike for my head. I barely manage to pull my tire iron up in thine, the metal screeching as it deflects the deadly weapon. We back off and circle around one another. A chime has gone off and Eleith doesn't move anymore. I believe she is dead. Good. She won't feel anymore pain.

"You're not such a good person, you know," Zak laughs as he takes another swing that I dodge. "I saw you kill Cosmo and Xavier. Think they deserved what you gave them?"

"It's better than what you would have done." I don't need to justify myself to this boy.

He laughs. "So true!" I would have--"

My shoulder takes him in the gut and we both go falling off of the platform into the train tracks below. Zak hisses and tries to pull his spike up but I'm faster. I kick the weapon away and smash my tire iron into his knee before he can move.

His howl of pain sounds like an animal. He tosses and turns, screaming fruitlessly at me. I just nod my head and climb off of the tracks. "Where are you going?!" He screams after me, his voice no longer menacing or fearful. It's just pitiful. "Finish me off! Kill me like a man!"

I turn to face him from where I stand on the platform. His leg is bent at an almost impossible angle, his face full of hatred and sorrow. "I don't have to. The train will do it for me."

"Train?! What train?!"

I shake my head and turn around. I don't need to see this. The ground rumbles as the approaching train arrives at the station. Zak just has one short scream before it crushes him. I don't see it but I can imagine it. Somehow that is even worse.

I stare at the brick wall of the station until the rumbling halts. I still don't turn around. Instead, I slowly walk to where we left Bluffy. The poor, poor girl needs to be released from her pain.

"Congratulations to the winners of the District 6 Death Duel! Wolbert Toonico and Luna Fern! The two of you will join the pool of tributes competing in the 400th Annual Hunger Games!"

It's over? The Duel is over? I'm confused until I see Bluffy's prone body and the girl rising off of it. Luna (301). The small girl shakes her blonde head at me and drops a bloody nail to the ground. "I had to stop her pain," She whispers softly. "I couldn't let her suffer any longer.

"You did right," I tell her and then she throws herself forward to hug me. I don't know what brought this on, possibly just the complete and utter sense of hopelessness we're faced with. Or maybe the death she's seen today. I don't know and I don't care. I just hug her back, fearful of what further atrocities must be completed in the name of these horrible Games.

Wocky Oak (302nd Games)
Fear.

Trepidation.

Uncertainty.

More fear.

That's what I feel as I'm raised into the Duelling arena. Dark trees loom over my head, completely blocking out the sun. They're gigantic, trunks as big as small houses and branches so large that they cover the entire sky. The forest is dark and eerie. Not a single bush rustles, no animal stirs.

This is not a normal forest.

And none of us are normal kids. We're all freaks, abnormalities. People brought back to life just so we can kill and then kill some more. I'm sure that there's kids here who'll relish that role, those who have lost their innocence and humanity long ago. They just want to kill and maim without a care in the world. These kids exist.

But I'm not one of them.

In my original Games, the 302nd Annual Hunger Games, I was the runner-up. I made it to the final day without making a single kill. I managed to place second without a killing a single person, making me an abnormality in the eyes of the Capitol. Everyone probably thought I was weird, crazy, stupid or a combination of the three. I don't know if they're wrong about that last one but I know one thing that I am not.

A killer.

I will not, under any circumstances, kill another person. I survived once before by doing this and I'll do it again. Last time it was purely coincidental that I didn't kill. This time it will be purposeful.

Ding!

A strange chiming sound echoes throughout the woods, seemingly coming from nowhere but everywhere at the same time. It vibrates through the thick trunks of the trees and slips through the vines that hang from them.

What does it mean?

I don't have to wonder long. A holographic screen appears amongst the leafy branches that blot out the sky, showing the faces of all eight tributes that will compete in this Duel. District 7 has the fewest tributes of all the Duels, save District 13 and the Capitol, a by-product of having two Victors from the Hunger Games that participate in this duel. I'm examining all the faces when one, a boy's, blinks out and the words "Deceased" crawl across his face.

Ransom Overman (301) is dead. That means this Duel has started.

Oh boy. Not good, not good at all. I spin around on my platform, nervously peering into the thick shrubbery that surrounds me. The darkness could conceal just about anything and I wouldn't be able to see it. Someone could be watching me right now...

My boot slips on the edge of the platform and I go crashing to the ground. I let out an involuntary shout and it seems to echo through the forest for miles. "Damn!" I slam my fist into the ground and then my newest shout begins to echo as well. Fear takes over me now as I realize that the others could know where I am now because of my stupidity. I imagine several armed tributes descending upon my position and I can no longer hold back my instincts.

I get up and run.

At first the undergrowth is so thick that I have to literally push my way through, scratching my arms and legs in the process. But then it begins to clear and in its place large tentacle like roots arrive, stretching up like they want to sap what little light comes from the sky. Little else can exist here, beyond the roots and their trees.

I fear for myself.

I scramble over the roots and push myself into a crevice, a space where the roots twist around one another to create a opening big enough for me to hide in but small enough to stay hidden. I crawl to the very back of the crevice, pushing myself as deep as possible. I let out a sigh when I feel safe. Then I hear a scream.

It's a girl's and it sounds close by. My hands tremble slightly at the noise, fearing that I will be found. I couldn't survive an encounter. And not just because I vowed not to kill. I don't have a single weapon on me and I know that weapons were provided. Whoever found them is probably the ones doing the killing...

Two chimes sound. One for the screaming girl and someone else. Despite the fear that grips me, I feel an overwhelming sense of morbid curiosity to see exactly who died and I begin to creep towards the hole of the crevice. My brain screams at me to stop but I don't listen. Reaching the edge, I nervously place my hands on the edge and peer out. The forest is empty, no one is around. I guess I can see who--

"Found you!"

Hands grab my collar and haul me out of the crevice, kicking and screaming. A girl's snarling face glares at me as she tosses me to the ground like a sack of potatoes. I see the hatchet in her hands and scream again. "Shut up!" Her foot presses against my windpipe, effectively shutting me up. "Do you want the others to find us? No. You do not. Now, just die nice and quiet like..."

The hatchet rises back over her head and I know I can't just lie here and die. I rip the foot off of me and bite into it with savage fury. My teeth don't penetrate the thick rubber sole but the girl shouts at me just the same. "What are you doing, eh?" She pulls her foot back and I try to get up but she's still faster. Her hands grip my shoulder and throw me into the side of the massive tree trunk. "You think you can escape me? Nastya Gushkin? Well, you need better plan than that to escape from Grind!" Her left hand squeezes around my throat, holding me in place as her right readies the hatchet. She raises it over her head again and...it just keeps going higher and higher until she just tumbles over sideways.

"What the heck...?" I rub my throat ruefully and peer down at the girl as she lies stiff as a board. A large axe is embedded in her back and that's when I see them.

Two girls are creeping out of the woods, their faces ugly masks of loathing and hatred. Both hold large axes in their right hands but that's not the scary part. One of the girl's holds a severed head in her hand. The head of Voolia (326).

I scream and run. Again. I scramble over the twisting roots, frantic in my haste to escape from those two murderous girls. I can hear them behind me, not whooping and shouting like a bunch of Careers but just silently sprinting. Quiet. Deadly.

My foot gets tangled in the roots but I force it free, ignoring any pain that comes from it. I don't hear the girls sprinting anymore and I don't know if that's good or bad. I keep moving for several more minutes before stopping to catch my breath. Two more chimes went off while I was running. How many people even still live? I look to the sky for an answer when something slams into my side.

I hear rasping breath as an axe is raised and I scream out in the only way I can. "Don't kill me! We can team up!" It's a last ditch effort, one I expect to fail. But no axe hits me and I blink my eyes open cautiously.

A frail and rather skinny boy stands before me. His hair is a very unusual crimson and black, his eyes the same color. For some reason he smells like fish. "Why the crap should I team with a weak bastard like you?"

Despite his foul language I realize he's actually considering what I asked. I need to capitalize on this opportunity. "Because there's two girl's in the woods; Dangerous girls who are expert killers. If you kill me, you'll have to go up against them by yourself!"

He waves a careless hand and smirks. "I don't fear them. I don't fear anyone or anything!"

"It doesn't matter if you fear them. They'll kill you all the same."

A scowl forms on his fearsome face. "And how could you help me?"

"I..." How could I help him? I've already made a vow not to kill and besides, I'd be useless in a fight against those two girls anyways. But I can think of one thing. "I could distract them. Let you get the upper hand."

The boy laughs and then pats me on the shoulder. "Okay you little sh--eater, it looks like we have a plan."

I do not like this plan very much. I don't know if I can trust the boy, Frade (326). He is a dangerous person, someone who loves to kill just as much as those two girls. But he's my only hope for survival and I can't afford to waste it.

I survey the open forest now, looking for those girls, Chumps and Maple. I see them exiting the thicker part of the woods and I take a deep breath. Here goes everything. "Hey! You two!"

Their heads snap towards me and they have their weapons out in an instant. But they're not stupid enough to come running for me because that's obviously a trap. No. Instead, one of them hangs back as the other begins to slowly slink towards me, a glancing eye keeping a lookout for any surprises. Frade was right. He somehow knew exactly how they would react. He's better than I thought.

The girl coming for me, Chumps, sticks close to the ground as she goes. I don't quite like the look of that axe in her hand. I saw how she killed Nastya with it from afar. "Come on Frade..." I mutter to myself nervously. Maple has begun to step out of the cover offered by the woods. Soon he should strike...

Chumps comes to a halt. First I think she's just seen through our trap but then I see the axe flipping across the air. She's thrown it right for me!

I hit the ground and then I hear Maple give a shout of alarm. Frade has appeared! He's dropped from one of the trees and is fighting with Maple. Chumps is alarmed as she watches her friend brawl with the violent boy but she can't do a thing. She threw her weapon at me.

She realizes it the same time as I do. We both go sprinting for the weapon that lies behind me but I am closer and reach it first. "That's mine! Give it back!" Chumps crashes into me and I lose grip of the axe as I fall. The girl picks it up triumphantly but the sound of a chime stops her in her tracks. Instinctively she looks to the sky and sees the face of Maple blink out.

Her eyes are filled with cold fury as she turns to face me. I don't have any words or thoughts as she stalks towards me. How many times can I be in mortal danger?!

"Knock, knock!"

Chumps stops in place and spins around to see Frade's axe slamming into her face. It's not pretty but it's quick. Maple is dead and so is Chumps. Frade is howling with laughter, calling them both horrid names. I don't like that boy, I actually hate him. But he saves my life and I have to respect him for that. "You look like someone took a piss in your cereal," The stringy boy glances at me. "Why? You won. Be happy." He snickers cruelly and I just shake my head. I can never feel happy knowing that someone else died. Never. It doesn't matter if that person was an insane monster, they were still a person.

But I guess I'm the only one to think like that.

Freya Prada (302nd Games)
The arena is deathly silent as I come into it. There's nary a sound as I look around at my surroundings, which isn't much to see. Hanging veils of silk are everywhere, blotting out my view. The silk tapestries descend from a gray concrete ceiling and the flooring is the same dull gray, leaving no color except for the pale purple tapestries that seem to billow in the non-existent wind.

It's a bit disturbing, watching the tapestries move by themselves. It almost looks like an unseen presence is manipulating them, making them move for its own mysterious gain. And just like that I'm suddenly frightened about being surrounded by ghosts. A stupid thing to fear when faced with the prospect of nine other kids gunning for your head, I know. But the supernatural has always frightened me, something my elder sister, Cashmere, always made fun of me for.

A pang of loss stirs in my chest at the thought of her. Despite how she constantly insulted and mocked me, I loved her. I was beyond devastated when she died and then I died just like her...

Ding!

An eerie chime goes off somewhere and a shiver runs down my back. Where are the other tributes? I can't see a single thing with these dumb tapestries in the way. And I don't want to risk stepping off the platform and blowing off my legs. That would be a stupid way to die.

"Help me!" I freeze in position, glued to my platform as a feminine voice calls out for help, her fearful cry echoing along the floor. "Nick! Nick! Please help me! Nick--"

There's a small shriek and then something thumping onto the cold floor. My head spins around, trying to see where this horror is coming from. "Coco!" Another voice shouts from my left, a male voice. "Coco! Where are--Oh, God, no!" A shriek of pain and then another body slumping to the ground, another horrifying reminder what we're all here for. I'm horribly scared now but I'm no longer frozen in place, quite the opposite, I'm now running for my life.

I push my way through the veils as I run, my heart rate going astronomically high as footsteps echo around me. I can't see anything, I'm completely blinded by these tapestries, pushing through one just to be confronted by another.

Another muffled scream echoes from my right and I change direction without even thinking. Four chimes have gone off now, four tributes are dead. Whose killing them? Is it one person? No...no that wouldn't make sense. Though Nick and Coco were assuredly killed by a single person...

This maze of tapestries is seemingly never-ending. I race through them, my feet slapping hard against the concrete ground and echoing around me. I'm terrified of what I may run into but not as terrified as I am of staying still, where a cold-hearted killer may find me.

I plow into a tapestry and my foot catches on it, sending me sprawling to the ground hard. I cry out and clutch at my right knee, which took the brunt of my fall. All around me more people are screaming. One shouts about the veiled demon that haunts them and then let's out a blood-curdling scream. Another chime goes off.

It's not until I climb to my feet, cradling my hurt knee, do I notice that the tapestries no longer impede my progress. A small circular clearing rests before me, no tapestry hanging within it but many still surround it. In the very center of the clearing I see a small knife lying on the ground.

It's shocking how much safer someone feels when they have a weapon in their hand. I roll the knife between my fingers, trying to regulate my breathing and slow my heart rate. I'll be fine...as long as I avoid the combat and fighting I'll be fine...

"You!"

A small girl with curly dark hair steps out from behind a tapestry. I'm shocked by her sudden appearance and I don't respond as she begins to approach, her footsteps echoing through the now silent room. "Have you seen him?" She demands, stopping about a foot away from me. I shake my head furiously, clueless to what she is asking. "Then you know nothing of what has happened to the rest. And you don't know that our time is limited. He's already killed the others and if we don't act soon he'll kill us."

"Who?" I'm confused by her words. Is she talking about the person taking out the other tributes?

"The demon. The Veiled Demon. He's already gotten the others." The veiled demon? That's not the first time I've heard of this. One of the kids was shouting about this before...he died

"So what are we suppose to do?" I nervously roll the knife back in forth between my hands, the girl, Galina (325), watches this with her amber eyes. "Team up against him?"

She shakes her head, a scowl forming upon her face. "No. He will only kill one of us. Two tributes have to survive this."

"And?"

"And nothing. You just have to die!"

The girl has worked her way up to me, she made me let my guard down and leave myself vulnerable. I'm such a fool. Her right hand snatches the knife from me as I flip it between my own, her left punches me in the gut and as I'm reeling she smashes her knee into my temple.

"You're such a foolish moron," The girl snickers as she places her foot on my wrist, eliciting pained screams from me. "I don't even think this "Veiled Demon" exists. I just heard about tribute crying like a baby and used it to fool you. I knew you'd believe it, being the sappy whiner that you are." I hate myself. I hate myself for falling for such an obvious trick. Cashmere was right about me, I am a baby that believes in ghosts and spirits. If I wasn't such a fool I'd never be here, lying on cold stone at this girl's mercy. "Just be happy that I'm not psychotic," The girl grunts as she flips the knife over so the point is aimed at me. "Because I'll be sure to make your death quick."

I close my eyes and pray that she is telling the truth. I don't want a prolonged death. I just want it to be quick.

I hear the sound of metal sinking into flesh and I scream as the pain tears into me, as I feel the blood splatter upon my face. I know that I have died, that I have failed.

Then I realize that I'm not dead.

My eyes shoot open and I see Galina still standing there, her amber eyes vacant and glazed over. I don't understand until I see the sharpened metal sticking out from her chest, see the blood that coats the blade.

The sword is slid out just as I notice it and Galina's body drops to the ground and now a tall boy towers over me. His jaw is large and square, his blue eyes as cold as ice. I know him immediately. He is the one, the Veiled Demon.

His eyes notice me and he takes a step forward so that he is now directly over me. There is no mercy in those eyes of his but I do see a faint glimmer of--What? Pity? Anger? Regret? I don't know. And it really doesn't matter. He saved me only to kill me himself. A thankless rescue.

His sword is held over his head when I hear a very familiar noise, a noise that I myself have caused before. The sound of a crossbow bolt flying through the air.

The tall boy stumbles back as an arrow strikes him in the chest. But, remarkably, he still stands. A thin gasp of pain escapes his lips right before another arrow hits him, quickly followed by yet another.

He goes down, crashing to the concrete ground. All three arrows are only inches apart, a perfect tiny triangle in his chest. I don't understand, a feeling that I've been feeling quite a lot recently. How did he die? Who killed him? My head swivels around the clearing but I see nothing but the gently swaying tapestries. Two more chimes go off and I go to look at the holographic screen when he steps out from behind the tapestries. It's him. The Veiled Demon.

He's not very tall, standing just slightly under six feet. He's not muscular either, his arms and legs are as average as his height. In his hands rests a large crossbow, the crossbow that saved my life. But it's his face that's remarkable, or what I can't see of it, anyway.

A thin purple cloth covers his face, a veil that hides him from view. Only his eyes can be seen, two orbs of gray that seem both vacant and observant. It's these eyes that spin to face me now.

"Who are you?" I demand, though my voice is small and weak. He makes a small noise and I follow his eyes as they go to look at the screen in the sky. All but two of the faces are blanked out; my own and that of Josef Wilder. I turn back to him, now knowing the true identity of the "Veiled Demon". "Why did you save me?" I ask quietly. "You would have won either way."

"I did not do it in a sudden wave of empathy, I assure you." His voice is quiet, threatening. It's a legitimate type of fear that he inspires, not at all like the Careers and their overbearing attempts to be frightening. "But Yuri over there," He waves a hand at the corpse of the tall boy. "Was an actual threat once the Games begin. You are not. Needless to say, I chose to let the weaker predator live."

"Did...did you really kill all of the others?" My voice cracks as I face this killer down. He saved by life, yes. But there's something different about him, something...nonhuman.

"Oh, yes." He nods sagely but then pauses. "Well, not quite all. Yuri killed that girl there, did he not? Or were you the one to end her life?"

"It was Yuri," I speak quickly, not wanting to be confused for a relentless killer. Josef sees my discomfort and laughs, short and quick, like a bark.

"Ah. I see. You're no killer. Someone like you would be incapable of killing another." He speaks politely, kindly even, but his eyes are cold and blank. He is a very different breed.

"I killed Kiara and Varina," I say softly, remembering how I had accidentally taken the life of my own friend. Not to mention how I burnt a poor little twelve year old to death. Those deeds will forever haunt me and I will not ever forget it. Not that I deserve to. I did the horrible things, I must pay for them.

"I have no idea who those girls are," Josef says with a rather patronizing tone. When I don't respond he nods curtly and then turns his back on me. I am confused until I see the throng of Peacekeepers and others coming out from the maze of tapestries. I stand with a swirling feeling in my guy, certain that I am incapable of winning these Games. Especially with people like Josef on the loose.

Perrie Grain (301st Games)
I don't know how you feel when you get a heart attack but I imagine it's something like how I currently feel. My chest seems to be shrinking, constricting its self and making it difficult for me to breathe. My head is swimming with all the horrible ways I could die, making me extremely light-headed and unsteady on my feet. I fear everything and I'm still in the small holding room. I can't imagine how I'll fare once the actual Duel starts.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight as a voice announces the beginning of the battle. The ground beneath my feet jerks as the platform begins to rise, bringing me up to the death and destruction that awaits. Higher and higher do I go, not knowing when it'll end. I begin working myself into a panic but I try to control it the longer the ride goes.

A sweet smelling wind blows against my face, bringing the slightest scent of wild flowers and the more overwhelming scent of wheat. My eyes flicker open.

Wheat as tall as a person surrounds me, casting shadows against the platform as the sun rises in the east. "I'm home..." I murmur gently, inhaling deeply. I'm not home, not even close. But the scents have fooled me, made me remember the warm mornings spent hanging around my house in District 9, just playing and enjoying life as my father did his mayoral duties.

My father...

I remember where I am, how long has passed since I first died. It's been almost an entire century since that moment I stopped breathing and anything could have happened in that time. Like when I was revived and put into the box for the 327th Games, where I saw a kid whose dad was now Mayor. That was when I realized just how long I'd been dead. The Grain family had been the Mayor of District 9 for decades but now that was over. Some other family had taken over.

It feels like my world has been destroyed.

Ding!

"Huh?" A bell chimes but I don't know what it is for. A signal to move off of our platforms maybe. I take the bait and do as the Gamemakers tell me, stepping off of the platform and walking nervously into the tall wheat. It's not the wheat that makes me nervous, it's the fact that the other tributes are now out and about, hunting us down.

I just walk forward, waiting for something to just pop out in front of me. It'd be foolish to try and find the others. I don't have any weapons, what could I do? Beat them to death with my fists? Not likely.

So I just continue walking, noting the two extra chimes that go off. Maybe some tributes haven't gotten the message and still remain on their platforms. I feel sorry for those clueless kids. Don't they realize the danger they're in?

Suddenly something appears above of the wheat, causing me to do a double take. It's a head, the head of some giant boy who looms over the wheat that populates the area. Eli Dawn. The male tribute from the 300th Games. I remember watching his Games on the television and feeling sorry for how he'd likely be targeted due to his freakish height. Maybe I should try to befriend him. He looks like he could use a friend. "Hey, Eli!" I hop up and down, trying to signal the giant. "Eli! Over here! I'm trying to get your attention, Eli!"

His massive head whips around and peers through the wheat. While I can see him because of his height, I don't think he sees me for he has a confounded expression upon his face. "Whose there?" He grumbles, swinging his arms from side to side. "Why are you speaking? We're supposed to kill, not talk!"

"I don't want to kill. Why can't we just team up?" I begin to approach Eli now, content that he means me no harm.

"That is not how it works," He sounds surprised.

"Are you sure? I wasn't given a rule book..." A frown crosses his giant face and he suddenly turns away from me.

"Who are you? You look as if--"

Eli screams and then his head drops into the wheat, I hear the sounds of hacking and maniacal laughing and I scream for Eli. He doesn't respond. My heart tells me to go running to his aide but my brain orders me to run the other way and, unfortunately, I listen to my brain.

I can feel the tears glistening in my eyes as I run, clueless to where I am supposed to go. How am I suppose to fight? Where are the weapons? Another chime is heard. What is with the chimes? I'm so deep in thought that I don't see the fence until it's too late.

I run face first into the thick wooden planks and I feel the blood burst from my nose as it breaks. It hurts, it hurts so much that I can't not cry. My tears come pouring out as I just lie there, hurt and frightened beyond measure. Another chime goes off. Two minutes pass and the there's yet another. I still don't know what they're meant to represent. I continue crying.

More minutes pass and my nose stops bleeding but it still hurts, despite this manage to pull myself into a sitting position, leaning back against the fence. "Where are the other tributes?" I wonder aloud. As if in answer, the wheat bristles and two girls step out.

"Ugh! Like, just look at her! She was, like, beaten by a fence!" A snobby looking girl with a blonde and brunette mohawk sneers at me as I sit dejected before them.

"Do I kill?" The other girl, one with neck length ginger hair and huge muscled arms that belong on boys, grunts irritability as she points a wickedly curved sickle at me.

"What do you think, Vera?" Mohawk girl snaps at the large girl, who must be over six feet tall, and crosses her arms. "Just kill her like you killed Mark and Tito."

"Very well, Plasma." The girl turns to face me with a grim expression. Once more I see the deadly sickle and I whimper, holding out a hand to defend myself. The giant girl, Vera, hesitates.

"Like, are you killing her or what?" Plasma looks up from where she was examining her nails and glares at me. I don't offer anything more than a frightened squeal. "You didn't hesitate with the others!"

"Those boys were fighting back, yes? I do not enjoy inflicting harm on the innocent." Vera seems to be kind-hearted and I look to her with the most pathetic expression I can muster. If I can just convince her to spare me...

"Whatever." Plasma throws her hands to the sky and utters a curse. "If you're too much of a baby then just let me do it."

"You..." Vera looks between the two of us and looks utterly torn. I feel my chances of survival increase by the second and I even get myself to stand and walk towards Vera.

"P-please d-don't kill me. I d-didn't do anything to deserve it!" I fake the stutter as I approach, both hands placed on my head to show that I mean no harm.

"Ugh! She is, like, such a little faker!" Plasma throws her jacket open and I have absolutely no time to react. A knife has appeared in her hand and she drives it into deeply into my chest. Vera shouts but it's useless. I fall back, smacking my head against the fence. Blood is seeping from the wound and the world I getting black. The last thing I see is Vera and Plasma arguing...

Ellis Blackberry (302nd Games)
It's a shame that the Capitol hasn't been overthrown already. I thought this the last time I was in this sort of situation as well but the point still stands because nothing has changed since then. The Capitol is still in charge, they still do whatever they damn well please without any fear of repercussions. What the hell have these Rebels been doing since I died?

"Prepare for Duel Commencement."

I crack my knuckles as the platform under me begins to churn. Well, if no one else is going to stop these Games I might as well play them. They're my only shot of staying alive, after all. The only way I could actually get to a point where I could finally be the one to show the Capitol they're not in control.

But first I have to kill some innocent kids.

The platform takes me up into a small field of grass. The scent of manure wafts around me and I wrinkle my face as I notice the nearby pen filled with pigs that mill about, doing nothing. "That hasn't changed," I mutter as I look around at the other landmarks. Nearby sits a farmhouse of sorts, surrounded by a small wooden fence and a few platforms laden with more tributes. Off in the distance I see a barn and a stable; more tribute platforms surround these. Time to get fighting, eh?

I bound off of my platform and go racing for the farmhouse. It's my first destination not because it's closest but because, well, okay, it's because it's the closest. Some sort of chimes sounds off as I sprint across the open grassland. Ahead of me, right in front of the house, a pair of tributes fight.

A well-defined, muscular blonde boy is throwing punches at a raven haired girl who continually bounces away from his fists. She laughs merrily, like this is all a game, and sometimes throws her own punch, which is usually on target.

"Another?" The boy, who I believe is Morolith (300), stops in his tracks to watch me trot up behind them. The girl spins around to see what he's talking about and my fist takes her in the face. I note her eye-patch as she crumples to the grass, screaming obscenities at me. Seeker (301).

"Yeah," I flash a cocky grin at the stunned boy. "I'm just another fighter." My fist connects with his nose and it squirts out blood as it breaks under the force of my blow. Seeker is back on her feet and the both of them are trying to fight me now but this is a brawl and that's where I shine brightest. Back home I was always getting into street fights just like this one, only, there I had real opponents who knew how to fight with just their bodies.

I throw an elbow into Morolith's gut, spin out of the way and kick Seeker in the kneecap before back-fisting her skull. They try their best to keep up but fail miserably. I'm beginning to wonder how I'll kill them, since they won't win this battle, when Morolith falls down with a bloody scream.

"Bronco!" Seeker's one eye lights up with joy when she spots the muscular black boy creeping towards us. In his left hand he holds a throwing axe, his other is buried in Morolith's back. "Help me finish this birch off!"

Uh-oh. I remember the info cards we were shown and, more importantly, I remember how it said that Seeker and Bronco were allied in their initial Hunger Games. Not good.

The boy nods his brooding head and then he winds up to throw his axe just as I grip Seeker around the shoulders and pull her in front of me. The axe catches her right in the heart and spits blood before I let her go, wherein she then slides to the bloodstained grass below. "Oops!" I smirk at Bronco as he gapes in shock at what he just did. "I think you made an itsy-bitsy mistake."

I'm not slow about it.

In a flash I rip the axe out from Morolith's back and hurl it towards the only other tribute left standing. Bronco goes down, the axe lodged in his cranium. It wasn't my best throw ever but it was good enough to get the job done and that counts for something. I collect the two axes and glance at the sky as I wipe the blood off of the blades, apparently several more cannons had gone off while I was fighting for only four faces are still lit, excluding my own.

I shake my head and look towards the stables, where I had previously seen tribute platforms. I don't see any fighting tributes but I do see a girl limping towards me, a bow clutched in her shaky right hand. Something stops me from just striking her down with one of the axes; I don't know why, but I can't bring myself to kill her. Maybe it's because she's crying and not fighting.

"Th-they killed him!" The girl's sobs become audible as she draws closer. "They killed him!" She's a wreck. Her formerly pretty blonde hair is disheveled and knotted, her face is streaked with tears and a bloody gash is etched across her left leg, obviously the reason for her limp.

"Who killed him?" I ask as she drops to the soft grass beside me. The girl's brown eyes swivel to meet mine but she doesn't answer as another sob takes over. I feel a strange connection with the girl, a desire to protect her. I guess it's because she reminds me of Jamie, my best friend back when I lived in District 10. Jamie was nothing like me, she always followed the rules and played nice, but she was somehow one of the few people I actually cared for. This girl reminds me of how Jamie was when her rules broke down and everything went to hell. A crying mess.

"They did!" The girl whips around to point a trembling finger at the stables in the distance. "The Cohen's! They killed Alex!" Damn. I recognize the girl now. Cassie Lexys, one-half of the two pairs of siblings in this duel. Alec and Alecia Cohen are the other pair and, according to Cassie, they were the ones to kill Alex. Jumped the two of them from behind and started a brawl. Alex stayed behind for Cassie to escape.

The girl can barely form the words through her tears and I don't blame her. She witnessed her brother being killed once before and now, after being reunited with him for only a few brief minutes, she has lost him again. The girl can barely operate with how devastated she is. See, that's the difference between people like me and people like Jamie and Cassie. When something horrible happens they get sad, whereas I just get pissed off.

"What kind of weapons do they have?" I ask the girl and her head shoots up as she hears my hardened tone. She knows what I plan on doing.

"You-you can't fight them. Th-they'll just kill you too--"

"What kind of weapons do they have?" I ignore her. I've gone sixteen years with people telling me I can't do something, I've always paid them no mind. Now's not the time to change that.

Cassie sees how futile it is to protest and just mumbles something, I don't catch it so I have her repeat it, louder this time. "A sword and spear!" She gets out through a shuddering sob. Damn. Those weapons won't be easy to beat, but still, I never give up on anything.

"Find some shelter," I tell the crying girl as I did to my feet and eye the stable in the distance. "If all goes well then you and me will win this Duel. If it doesn't...I plan on killing at least one of them. So you win either way." She just looks at me, awestruck. She isn't use to others taking the sacrifice for her. But none of us are, really. The Capital always ensures that we're the ones being sacrificed and not the ones being spared the burden. I've always been the rebellious rulebreaker.

After Cassie limps off, taking her old bow with her, I begin to approach the stables. Slowly but surely. I don't bother hiding, I want them to see me, to come for me. My advantage is that my axes can be thrown, making open field combat preferable to fighting in that musty stable. Hopefully they don't realize that and try to bum rush me.

When I draw about fifty yards away from the stable, the doors swing open. I'm expecting to see the Cohen twins emerge but instead it's a small red-headed boy, screaming as he runs across the grassy plains. He won't get very far.

Two horses come galloping out of the stable after him, two kids reining them in with expert skill. The boy picks up his pace as he hears the hooves but it's no use. One of the riders runs him down from behind and with one slash of a sword, the boy goes sprawling to the ground.

Horses.

They have horses! How is that bloody fair?!

The face of Kwartz Diodin (325) blinks off in the sky and then the two riders see me as they're wheeling their stress about. Suddenly my idea about engaging them in an open field doesn't sound so good.

One of the riders points their spear at me and then the chase is on. I'm running as fast as my feet will take me but I can hear the pounding of the hooves as they close in. I can't outrun a horse. No one can.

My feet stumble across the plains, nearly tripping as I step over a rabbits burrow. The horses continue to close in, one look behind shows that Alec and his spear are only two dozen feet behind me. A plan comes to mind, a stupid one, but a plan nonetheless. I stop running and spin around, facing the oncoming riders.

Alec's horse comes throttling towards me but at the last moment it rears up on it's back legs, neighing wildly. Alec wasn't expecting the sudden upheaval of his mount and he goes flying off the back of his horse, crashing into the grass below.

My plan isn't finished. Already my axe has left my hand, spiralling for Alecia whose still on her horse. She doesn't see it coming.

Her horse goes galloping off into the open plains once she falls off, dead with an axe in her chest. I smile as I watch it go. It wasn't a very loyal horse, now was it?

"Alecia!" Unbeknownst to me, Alec has already gotten back to his feet. He goes stumbling towards Alecia but when he sees tthe axe in her chest he changes directions. He comes hurtling towards me. The spear is lofted over his head, ready to be thrown, when an arrow takes him in the neck. I don't know where it came from or how, but it does all the same. Alec chokes and gags as his blood pours out and clogs his airway before eventually dying. I wonder if it was from blood loss or suffocation.

"He killed Alex."

Cassie has appeared at my side, her eyes hard and a bow locked in her hands. Of course. How did I forget she had that with? I'm surprised she helped though, I'd figure she was loony from.sadness. "Yep. He did," I kick his body to make sure everything is final and I also check Alecia's. Both seem very dead. "And you paid him pay for it."

"He deserved it!" Cassie fights back the tears that swell in her eyes. "Him and his devilish sister deserved everything they got!"

"I'm not arguing on that front," I shrug and watch as the Cohen twins faces are blanked out in the sky. Only mine and Cassie's remain. I make a pretense of yawning for the camera's. The Capitol loves callous and cold-hearted people, almost as much as they like revenge stories. Wonder how much they'll like revenge when I'm burning their buildings to the ground.

Flora Sapsling (325th Games)
Why?

Why did I have to be revived? Why couldn't I have just stayed dead? I don't want to fight anymore. I don't want to experience the horror of competing in the Games, knowing full well that I can't win. Why couldn't the Capitol have just left me dead?

"Prepare for Duel commencement. Platforms will now rise. Please stay in the center. Thank you."

A desire to defy my superiors overwhelms me and I drift to the side of the platform, pressing myself against the cool wall. It's a small gesture, the one suited for a small person like me. The platform begins to move and then I feel it as it moves away from the wall. My feet slip and one of them falls into the small crack that has formed between the wall and platform. The platform continues to move upward and within seconds the crack closes as the platform presses against the wall once more.

I scream as my foot gets caught between the massive metal platform. It continues to try and go up but my trapped foot catches it. Tears stream from ny face and I scream hysterically as I hear the cracking of the bones in my foot, the metal platform fighting fiercely against it.Then with one sharp tug, the platform pulls free.

My foot is left behind.

Wess Cornstob (300th Games)
The distressed screams of a girl wail around me as I come up into the sunny orchard. The colourful trees are ripe with plentiful fruit and a wonderfully delightful scent hangs in the air.

This is a place of extremes.

Why is that girl screaming? The Duel hasn't even started yet, let alone the fighting. There's no reason for her to be screaming in so much pain and agony. Nothing could have possibly happened to her. Unless...unless the Capital has done something.

It's a distinct probability that this Duel is in some way different from the actual Games. Rules that apply there may not work here. Even our platforms could be traps.

I glance down at my feet right now, seeing the shiny silver metal. I hurriedly jump off and cross towards a large apple tree, keeping my eyes glued to the platform. What's the catch here? Something is definitely off.

A gentle wind starts up, bringing along the sweet scent of fresh plums. Mmm...I can't remember the last time I had a plum. Sometime before my Reaping, I guess. How long ago was that? A hundred years? Man, I'm positively ancient! It'd be cool if it didn't mean that everyone I've ever known is dead and that I have no idea what the present looks like. Humans could have grown a sixth toe by now. I shudder at the mere thought. That would just be too freaky.

Ding!

A gentle chime dings in the distance and I stop my thoughts to listen closely for more. The screaming has stopped sometime while I was thinking and now the orchard is just eerily quiet. Strange. You'd think that the pained screaming would be scarier, but no. It's the oppressive silence that really gets to me. Where is everyone?

I get to walking along the orchard, examining the fresh fruits that are everywhere and noting the many Tracker Jacker nests that hang in the trees. Looks just like home.

Ding!

Again? What does that mean? I halt in my tracks and look to the sky. That's when I first note the overhanging holographic screen that spans the blue sky. I wondered how I didn't notice it earlier.

The faces of unfamiliar kids line the screen, statistical information underneath plain head shots of them. Apparently they're from the other Hunger Games, something I should have realized earlier. I probably would have, if my District partner Mondi was included, but she's not. She was voted in for the 327th Games and thus not apart of this Duel. I wonder if she's lucky...or unlucky.

"Kill! I wanna kill!"

A snarling voice alerts me to the gentle footsteps heading my way. Ducking behind one of the many trees, I see two tributes heading down the path that leads to me. Zippy and Flippy. Both of the 326th Games. "Correct, soldier!" Flippy speaks like she's in the military, some sort of drill sergeant. I stealthily begin to climb the tree I'm hiding behind, a plan already in my mind. "Killing is what must be done right now!" The two of them continue along the path when Zippy suddenly stops directly under my tree and begins to sniff the air like some sort of animal. Flippy stops beside him. "You smell something?" She asks the small boy.

I freeze. Can he smell me? Is that even possible? No. No, there's no way he can. He's a human, not a hunting dog. But he nods his head and growls. "Yes. Someone is nearby!"

Their heads immediately snap around, looking through the tree trunks and paths. Luckily, they don't look up and that gives me time to accomplish my plan. I use my long arms to pull myself up a few more branches, conscious of the noise it makes but not really caring. They can't stop e now. They never could. I worried for no reason.

Flippy is the first to spot me and she jumps up and down, waving her hands frantically. Zippy gnashes his teeth together and grabs onto the trunk of the tree, preparing to climb. Unfortunately for him, he doesn't get to climb.

I kick my leg out, smashing into the hanging Tracker Jacker hive and knocking it loose from it's position. My two attackers watch as it falls to the ground, cracking open like an egg and unleashing a swarm of the deadly insects.

"Run!" Flippy shouts this and takes off, but her leg catches on a thick knot of weeds and she falls, where the swarm proceeds to attack. Zippy fares no better. The crazed boy actually attempts to fight the mutts off with his hands and teeth but this obviously doesn't work. I hear their screams and shouts but I don't watch, I leap off the tree and take off running into the orchard.

''Ding! Ding! Ding!''

Three chimes go off as I run. Two for the Ippy's and the other for...? I stop beside a large tree, holding one hand against the tree to brace myself as I catch my breath. Up in the sky the third face that has gone off was Rasp Southern's (302). Well now, that leaves only--

A thudding impact hits me in the center of the back and I fall. I don't know what struck me but I instinctively roll before it can strike again. A brown haired, white girl stands over me, a shovel in her hands as she attempts to throttle me with it. I avoid the end of the spade and try to square her up but she swings it back around and just slightly catches the back of my head. "Ouch!" I howl in pain and then the girl winds up to swing again, but this time I'm ready.

I step forward and catch the handle of the shovel, causing her to gasp in shock. Her shock turns to pain when I hit her in the face with a right hook. Usually, I'd detest the thought of hitting a girl but when she's trying to kill you with a shovel, I think it's acceptable. "That's mine!" The girl holds a hand to her busted nose and glares at me. I smile and shrug.

"Not anymore."

She dives for me and my reflexes bring the shovel up much quicker than I wanted. It smashes into her face with a savage crunching sound and she drops like a bag of stones, her body splayed out awkwardly as she lies on the grass. "Shoot.." She's not breathing. I mutter a curse at my own strength, I hadn't meant to kill her, just stun her. But...well, nothing I can do about it now.

I leave the girl where she lies, feeling immensely guilty but knowing that what's done is done. I can't do anything to help her and I don't think I would do it if I could. Ruthless is acceptable as long as it's an accident.

I wander the orchard for several minutes before finding the remaining three tributes. Two of them are slinking through the trees, huddled close together and looking around nervously. Flow'r and Shimdt Raspberry. The two of them competed in separate Hunger Games but now they're together and a huge threat to be the two who advance from this Duel. There's safety in numbers.

Unless you're fighting Trent Korey (325).

The muscled boy steps out from behind a tree, cracking his knuckles and grinning cruelly as he spots the Raspberry siblings. Shirtless and with bloodied knuckles, he looks like an ancient god of warfare, ready to fight and kill.

I wonder if the Raspberries know how easily they'll die today.

"Flow'r, get behind me!" Shimdt pushes himself forward so that he's facing the Adonis. He has heart, that kid. But he'll still die. Trent just laughs and then one of his hands wraps itself around Shimdt's throat. The boy kicks out feebly before before being easily tossed to the ground by Trent. The smaller boy looks to his sister and let's out a shout. "Run, Flow'r, run!"

Trent's boot smashes into his throat, crushing his trachea instantly. I wince at the savagery on display and silently implore Flow'r to heed her brother's words. But she doesn't. How could she? She just watched her beloved brother be murdered before her eyes, of course she'd want revenge.

The girl screams and rushes the large boy, punching him in the stomach with all her might. It's not much but Trent still reels in shock from the blow. Inspired, Flow'r throws another punch but this one isn't as successful.

Trent catches her fist and spins her around, where he wraps his gigantic arms around her neck. The large, muscled bands of his arms flex and then Flow'rs neck is snapped with one sharp jerk. I feel guilty as I watch her lifeless body slide to the ground. I could have helped her, if I wanted. After Shimdt died she was no longer obligated to win with him, I could have won with her instead of Trent. I had a shovel too, so I wasn't unarmed. I was just afraid. Afraid that Trent would kill me too.

So, when the Peacekeepers come to collect me and Trent, I don't feel happy or privileged or even relieved. I just feel cold and hollow.

Thalia Combe (325th Games)
I've always hated those dark and eerie mines that everyone in District 12 seemed to work at. I disliked the horrible stench that rose from the mines and the charred and ugly faces of those who plunged to it's depths. I hated it with a passion.

So it's no wonder, really, that the District 12 Death Duel would be held in one of these mines.

Four other tributes huddle miserably on their platforms that neighbour mine. They're nothing to look at; pitifully weak specimens that won't pose much of a threat to myself. The tribute I'll have to watch out for is across the mine tunnel we're in. He stands on his platform with a nonchalant look on his face, his rock-like arms held behind his head. Jack Cayman (325).

He'll be my first target. I'll make sure he doesn't survive for long.

"When are we suppose to move?" The boy on the platform closest to mine speaks aloud as he peers through the foggy darkness of the tunnel. He was from my Games along with Jack. I think he was named Julian, though I do not really care if my memory is correct.

"There's weapons at the base of our platforms!" A girl, Mina Ebony (302), shouts giddily as she spots a pickaxe leaning against her platform.

The other tributes begin to murmur to themselves and Julian actually steps off of his platform to pick up his weapon, a drill bit. "Has the Duel begun?" He wonders aloud. As if in answer, Jack leaps off of his platform and begins charging us from across the tunnel. Three tributes trail behind him; all holding weapons.

"I'd say yes!" Steammie Pic (326) takes a hold of her weapon and goes running towards our attackers. She's soon followed by two others, Julian and Mina. I sigh and pick up the weapons that lie against my platform, a pair of knives. I'd have preferred a more...subtle victory but I suppose winning a classic battle will have to do.

I follow behind the others as they crash into Jack's fighters like they're some sort of soldiers. Jack sends Julian flying across the tunnel as he swings his weapon, a hefty wooden club, into his chest. I step forward and meet Jack in battle, despite him being almost an entire foot taller. He swings his club in an arc towards my head but I thrust one of my knives forward into his armpit, grinning as blood streams from the wound. Jack howls and wheels backwards, glaring at me with angry eyes.

All around us the other tributes are fighting a pitched battle. The long tunnel echoed with the clash of metal on metal, grunts, and screams of pain. Steammie wrestles on the ground with a boy, who despite being shorter than her, seems stronger than all the rest. Mina is attempting to hack wildly at a girl who just keeps hopping around her.

I see all of this in just one short glance. Jack has already recovered from his wound and is swinging his club with unbelievable strength. Blocking is not an option and I'm forced to step back from his swings. One swing sails right over my head and smashes into the side of the tunnel wall, sending chips of rocking splashing over the battlefield.

"Dynamite! He has dynamite!" Mina's horrified screech halts the battle between the two of us. The others stop fighting as well, stepping back to see a small boy wearing a black and white hat waving around a long, red stick.

"Don't m-move!" He threatens us with a stutter. "Or I'll b-blow y-you all up!"

The others buy into his threat and freeze; A few even drop their weapons. Are they that stupid? The boy doesn't even have a way to light the dynamite, let alone a way to survive the tunnel collapse he'd trigger!

"I'm disarming!" Regina (301), a girl on Jack's side, throws her weapon to the tunnel floor and slowly the others who have yet to do so follow suit. Eventually only Jack and I still hold our weapons. "Just don't blow us up, Knight!"

"I'll still kill you all unless those two disarm!" Knight (302) points the dynamite at me and I grin maniacally as I realize my imminent victory.

"How about no?"

I throw the knife as I've been taught, end over blade. It zips through the air and slams into Knight's neck. There's no blood at first, but when his hands try to pry the blade out it begins to jettison from the wound with his heartbeat. With my other knife, I swing in an upward arc and stick it into Jack's throat.

The others are in shock as the two biggest threats go down. They don't know how to react, what I did was impossible in their narrow minds.

I take joy in slaughtering them.

With their dropped weapons, knives, machetes and a pickaxe, I dance through them, slicing them across the stomach and the neck. A few try to fight, Mina and Gogh most notably, but majority just sit their in stunned surprise as my weapon digs into them. They die with the shock still on their faces.

Steammie attempts to flee from me once the others have fallen but I throw another knife after her and the blade sinks into her back, killing her and driving her to the hard ground. They all lie bleeding on the tunnel floor, their life having seeped away from them. I laugh and sit down on the ground as my victory announcement goes off.

"Congratulations to the winners of the District 12 Death Duel! Thalia Combe and Salem Calla! The two of you will join the pool of tributes competing in the 400th Annual Hunger Games!"

Hmm? Someone else survived? I am surprised. I didn't see anyone escape. In fact--Ah. I recall how there were four platforms beside my own yet only three tributes charged Jack with me. One of them must have hung back.

My assumption is shown to be correct when the small girl comes slinking around the tunnel corner. Salem Calla, my female District partner from the 325th Games. She looks at the dead bodies and then at me. I flash her a wide smile. "Clever girl..."

Douglas Biles (326th Games)
I have a twisted, sick feeling in my gut as I await the call to be raised into the Duel arena. My head is swimming with the thoughts that have persisted inside of my mind since the moment I was woken from cyrostastis. I know the truth, and I'm frightened because of it.

A voice calls for me to ready for deployment, and I swallow nervously as I place my feet at the center of the platform. The others have no idea. They don't know what all of this means. But I do. I've guessed this plausibility since the moment I was revived and then, when I saw the sign over the branching pathway, I knew for sure.

Instinctively, my hand touches the nape of my neck just as the platform begins to rise up. The nausea in my stomach grows stronger the higher I go, and I'm suddenly terrified of something else. Of what I'll have to do up there.

District 13 May have the least amount of tributes competing in the Duel, since we weren't apart of the 300th Games and had a Victor in the 325th, but that doesn't make my job any easier. I'll still have to kill five kids before I can move on.

It's even worse knowing that two of those kids were apart of the 325th Games, the Games that I worked on as a Gamemaker. I made their lives hell, I helped develop the mutts and twists that harried their entire tenure in the arena. It was my Games that killed them the first time. And now I will have to personally kill them this time.

The platform reaches its zenith and stops on the far side of a dimly lit room. I'm vaguely reminded of a warehouse as I gaze at the largely empty room; other than the platforms only an assortment of crates centered around a metal device occupy the room.

"Doug!"

A girl calls to me from my right. Jenessa Whitten. An...ally of mine in the 326th Hunger Games. She has long brown hair, a rather unfortunate nose, and a very nice deposition. She is just about the best ally anyone could have and I do not plan on winning this Duel with anyone but her. Lucky that we started so close together.

"What do we do?" She asks me with shaky voice. Jenessa was never the one to come up with the plans, she always relied on someone else for that. Not that I blame her, she has a completely different skill set than I do. But it's just as effective as mine.

"Dunno." I throw a furtive glance at the only other tribute positioned beside us, Saidy Dauntless (301). The girl pays no attention to our conversation as she stares eagerly out at the crates that circle around that metal device. I think I've seen it before...

My eyes travel along the concrete floor of this empty room, trying to figure just what the affiliation with District 13 is. We were expressly told that the Duel arena would correspond with the District's export...But I don't see any correlation between what we do with what is presented here...

I hear Jenessa give a shout of warning as, across the room, several tributes go charging for the crates. Saidy takes off too and then Jenessa starts moving. That's when everyone clicks into place.

"Jenessa! No!" The girl turns around and then I tackle her to the floor just as the explosion rings out.

The other tributes have short screams before the explosion reaches them. I'm lying face first in the ground beside Jenessa as the very world seems to quake under us. My hears are ringing, I can't hear anything. I can feel Jenessa moving beside me though and I know that I managed to save her. Good.

The two of us just lie there as the ground continues to shake, but it eventually subsides. With my heart in my throat and my heart gradually returning, I sit up. "Wow..." Jenessa takes in the carnage that surrounds us, the dead bodies of the other tributes, the shattered remains of the crates. "Wow. How did you know it was going to explode?"

"The metal device. It was one of the bombs District 13 made." I take a shaky breath and look to the ceiling of the building, where the faces begin to blank out. Jenessa is congratulating me on my intelligence and is going on happily about how we won, but I don't hear her. I'm too focused on his face.

"Doug? Umm, Doug?" Jenessa scrunches her face as she peers at me. "Do you even hear me?"

I point a finger at the holographic screen.

Three faces are still present, Mine, Jenessa's...and his. Harley Swoop (325) still lives. Jenessa flies into a panic, spinning around and searching for the missing tribute. He's not among the corpses that surround the destroyed crates but I see him. He stands beside his platform, obviously having seen through the trap the same way I did. I realize that the two of us would have won if I didn't stop Jenessa, that I wouldn't have had to kill anyone.

But now I do.

"What are we going to do?" Jenessa whispers to me as the boy cautiously begins to approach the wreck of the explosion. "How do we kill him...? There's no weapons!"

The crates were empty. It was all just a ruse to draw tributes in for the explosion to kill them. There's nothing left in this room but cold stone and three bodies. I can't even use a piece of the crates, they've been destroyed to unusable, tiny chunks. "Doug?" Jenessa grips my elbow as she watches the boy begin to poke through the wreckage: He hasn't seen us.

"Go to the platforms," I tell her as I begin to approach the boy. "Wait there. I'll settle this."

"But Doug--"

"Go. Now."

She doesn't protest further and simply nods, accepting my decision. I slowly walk towards Harley and he finally spots me, backing up into a defensive position. "What are you doing?" He demands. I take him in with my eyes before answering. I am bigger, taller too. He won't stand a chance.

"You know what has to happen."

He chuckles and a small smile even crosses his lips. "You gonna kill me?"

"I've done it before."

"Not without a weapon you haven't. It's much different when you have something in between you and your victim." I see the fear in his eyes as he notes the absence of it in mine. I haven't killed anyone with my bare hands before but it doesn't matter. I'm the only one who knows the truth. I need to win. I don't want to, I can't explain how much I don't. But it doesn't matter. I need to get the truth out and I can sacrifice my wants for that. I can sacrifice this boy. I can even sacrifice my soul, if I even still have one.

My fist takes him in the face and he stumbles back. There's a silence in the room, a misty feeling that makes this feel like anything but a fight. I feel cold as I hit him again, feeling his blood upon my knuckles. He laughs like he doesn't know that this is a brawl. That all rules and regulations are gone.

"You're serious?" He laughs at me again. His laughter is cut short with another jab to the face. He wipes the blood off and grins. "Then so am I!"

I panic when he suddenly adopts a fighting stance and comes at me. Despite his professional stance, his strikes are slow, tentative. Still, he catches my nose with a hard strike.

I get angry.

He takes an uppercut to the jaw and then several more hits to the chest. I don't feel right. I can't make him die with just my fists. It's impossible. He takes advantage of my hesitancy and grapples my arm into a awkward position. I scream when it pops and throw my head backwards, butting into his. He howls but doesn't let go so I do it again then twice more. I feel blood splattering into my hair and he finally lets go, stumbling back.

I'm dazed from the headbutts, I see double and everything is red. But I still manage to slam my shoulder into his chest and take him to the cold, hard ground. He tries to push me off and fails. I've lost all control now and just wail away on his face with my fists, right, left, right, left. I lose count of how many times I hit him until a hand grips my shoulder and tears me away.

"Stop! Stop! He's already dead!" Jenessa's fearful voice reaches my ears and my fury ebbs. I see Harley as he is, cold, quiet, dead. A terrible pain strikes my chest as I feel like the monster that I was. Jenessa's brown eyes find mine. "He's already dead."

I pull away from her and bury my face in my blood hands, hear it drip to the stone floor. What have I done? What have I become? What am I? I look at Harley's limp body and even the knowledge of what he is, of what we all are, doesn't erase the guilt I feel.

This...wasn't right. I wasn't supposed to become one of their monsters, their playthings. I was supposed to be better than that. Jenessa sidles up beside me and whispers something comforting. I don't hear it. I feel...empty. Like there's nothing inside of me. I fear it is because I know the truth.

Olympic Oblado (326th Games)
The wind whips around my head as I stand atop the platform that rests upon the rooftop of a skyscraper. Below me lies the sprawling mecca of the Capitol, very similar to how it looked last time I saw it. "Oh yeah! Make way for the unstoppable beast!" I let out a wolf howl and stretch my legs as I ready myself to run for the weapons that litter the center of the building.

"The unstoppable beast is going down!" A cerluen haired girl scoffs at me from her platform. "For you are a dirty little heathen!"

I let out a loud boisterous laugh and drag it on for a very long minute. "You always were an insufferable, stuck-up, bitch, Isolde! But I never knew you were stupid as well!" The daughter of a Gamemaker, Isolde Blair is the only tribute competing in any of these Duels that managed to get a training score of twelve, the highest score possible. She always competed in my year and I just know that her father purposely made it so I scored lower than her.

"We'll see whose the stupid one when this Duel begins!" Isolde flashes me a mischievous grin, angering me. I hate her and her sly words. She thinks it makes her smart but it really just--

"Umm. Have you two not noticed?" A pudgy, fat boy standing on a nearby platform clears his throat to get our attention.

"Noticed what?" Isolde rolls her eyes dramatically.

"That the, uh, Duel has already started?"

"What?!"

Our shocked shouts combine into one as we see that the boy is telling the truth. The other tributes have already reached the weapons and are fighting as we speak. Their cries of pain get snatched away by the roaring wind, removing the audio cue I was expecting. "Why didn't you tell us earlier?" I round on the boy, who is named Josool. He shrugs his chunky shoulders.

"You didn't ask! Besides, shouldn't you be following Isolde?" He points a stubby finger after the snobby girl and I shriek in anger. That damn girl got the best of me again! Why do I keep allowing this to happen?!

Josool waves after me as I go sprinting for the weapon cache. Already a pair tributes lie dead on the ground, a few more are bleeding profusely. I run up to one of the bleeding kids, Dexter (325), and hit him with a headbutt as I rip a machete out from his hands. Isolde is doing something similar, tackling Flawra (325) to the ground and bashing her head in before taking her sword.

"Outta my way!" A large girl with slabs of fat on her face shoulder blocks Avian (301) on her way to a spear. I prioritize her as one of my targets and come running for her. She sees me and raises her spear but I baseball side under the tip and then I sink my machete into her overweight gut. She howls and shakes as I stab twice more and then she falls over dead. Oh yeah! That was easy! Way too easy.

Avian attempts to stand back up but I slash my blade across his throat and he goes down, gurgling on his own blood. Isolde finishes Dexter off with an expert sword thrust and then the two of us are the only ones left standing. "Figured it'd be between me and you," She says with a wicked smile as she cleans her blade. I frown.

"I didn't. I was planning on killing you first, had I not been late to the party."

"You still have your chance..."

Our blades clash together. She has a longer weapon but I have a better wingspan, making things about equal. We dance around, metal bouncing off of metal as we unleash all of the training we've ever been taught.

The wind whistles past our ears as we fight, parrying one another's blows. She's faster but I know how blades work, and am able to deflect her sword when it nearly catches my thigh. But I overexerate myself and she sees an opportunity, stepping forward to end me.

But she doesn't see the prone body of Amelia (325) lying before her and she slips, exposing herself and giving me the victory. I drive my blade into her stomach and I hear her gasp as the foreign metal slides into her. Her body shivers and then falls over.

She's dead.

I suppose some sort of announcement takes place, though I can't hear it over the wind and my own joyous shouts. Hah! She thought me inferior! Well, whose inferior now? I laugh and laugh as Josool comes wandering over. He thinks we forgot about him but we didn't. It was just that Isolde and I had a feud to settle and settle it we did. Whether he survived or not was inconsequential as long as I showed my supreme awesomeness to the Capitol and all of Panem.

Step one is completed. Step two has just begun.

District Zero: Rosalina Cosmic
"Rosalina Cosmic!"

My name hangs over the crowd; a deathly silent bunch. The whispering wind is the only sound created as Elsa De'Cour peers through the crowd to spot me. I'm terrified, rooted in place by my fear. I want someone to stop this, to change my fate. But that's impossible.

The snow crunches softly under my feet as I finally move. I head for the stage like a lonely tower, the crowd parting for me and murmuring softly to themselves. When I finally reach the stage, Elsa smiles at me but I am unable to return it. She will watch me die and call it "entertainment". I could never bring myself to smile at a person like that.

"Welcome! Welcome!" Elsa pats my shoulder and addresses the crowd. "Please welcome our new female tribute for the 400th Annual Hunger Games, Rosalina Cosmic!"

When the crowd slowly begins to clap, I can no longer hold it in. I scream.

"Rosalina! Wake up, Rosalina!"

I'm still screaming when I wake, sweating profusely and screaming like a maniac. My mother is there, her soft hands wrapped around my shoulders as she tries to comfort me. I take a deep, shuddering breath as my screaming stops. It wasn't real. It was all just a dream. But...it felt real. Felt like something more than just a nightmare. I tell my mother about what happened in my dream and then she is trying to console me and I just nod, feeling weak. "That won't happen to you," My mother is saying and I try to believe her as I look into her trustworthy blue eyes. She never lies to me. But that doesn't mean she's always right. "It was just a terrible nightmare. Everything will be fine."

"But what if it won't?" I ask in a small voice, unable to shake the awful feeling from my chest. "What if I'm Reaped? What will you do if I die like Dad?"

My mother smiles gently at me as she grips my shoulders and looks squarely into my eyes. "Your father died in a meteor shower. It was a freak accident. You will not die like him." No. I'll just die a worse death, a death in the Hunger Games. My mother still mourns for my father, though she tries to hide it. But I see the pain in her eyes as she addresses me now and I know that she's thinking of him. "Rosalina, get dressed. Then we can eat breakfast and head for the Reaping. Were you will not be Reaped."

With one last smile, she gets up and crosses the wooden floor, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The dream will not fade from my head and unpleasant memories of it continue to linger. Realizing how futile it is to try and force the thoughts away, I just lie back down on the bed and listen to my mother hum as she begins to make breakfast.

If I was Reaped...

This year is special, even for a quarter quell. It's officially the largest Hunger Games to ever take place in Panem and will include the best fighters, the most experienced killers and the worst sort of tributes from the most competitive Games of the last seventy-five years. My odds of surviving in such a Games would be absolute zero.

My mother calls for me and I get myself dressed in the dress I laid out last night. I'm stroking the ruffles of my dress as I step into the breakfast and sit down at the small wooden table that rests in the center of our dinky kitchen. "I'm sure that nightmare has built up your appetite," My mother sets my plate of eggs and sausage before me and I slowly begin to eat. Our meals are always better on Reaping day. "But just remember; Nightmares aren't real. No matter how realistic they appear."

I know that. I know my dream was just that; a dream. But dreams are manifestations of our hopes and aspirations, our dread and fear. And my biggest fear has a very real possibility of happening

We say no more as we eat. I'm too preoccupied with all the bad things that could happen in the Games, if I am to be Reaped. I'm so absorbed in my thoughts that I don't even eat most of my food, I just pick at it with an absent mind until the bell that signals the approchement of the Reaping goes off. "Come on, Rosalina," My mother stands up and moves briskly for the door. "We'll have to clean up when we return."

"If we return..."

I'm aware of the disappointment on her face but she doesn't say anything to me as I get up and grab my cloak off a hook. That horrible feeling just won't go away...

Unlike the past two years, it is not snowing this Reaping day. It's unusually warm for District 0, still cold by the other District's standards but not painfully freezing like usual. The soft snow under our feet is less than usual as we arrive at the square.

The fountain in the middle of the square acts as the divider for the crowd that mills about, a quiet buzzing sound as they talk amongst themselves. People over the age of eighteen are sorted onto the left side whilst everyone eligible to be Reaped goes in the left. Unlike the previous years, a large glass container hangs above the fountain, attached to thick cables.

The All-Stars. The tributes who the Capitol have been obsessing over the past week, voting for their favourite and against the other. I watch the kids inside the zoo-like container, watch as they stand helplessly in their prison, with chains upon their ankles and wrists. There's only four, the four tributes who participated in the last two Hunger Games.

I remember rooting for them all, except for Fenrir. He was a bit too...exotic and bloodthirsty for me to root for. Still, I feel just as bad for him as I feel for the rest. The all died in the Games once before and now two of them will have to die there again.

"Hello, District Zero!" Elsa De'Cour comes onto stage wearing a pale blues dress decorated with snowflakes. My heart thrums wildly as I stare at her icicle earrings. Was she wearing this in my dream? I don't remember... "Welcome to the Reaping of the 400th Annual Hunger Games! The biggest and most exciting Games that will ever take place in Panem!" Elsa smiles proudly and the crowd offers its token applause. Not many mean it but they're afraid of what would happen if they remained silent. "I bet you're all just dying to see who our new tributes will be! I know I am!"

My chest practically explodes as Elsa steps towards one of the bowls. Flashbacks to my dream come to me and I feel lightheaded, dizzy. I fear I'm going to faint when Elsa says something to the crowd and pulls out a name.

"Rosalina Cosmic!"

My name hangs over the crowd and I croak out mournfully as I realise my nightmare has become true. The whispering wind is the only sound as Elsa peers through the crowd to spot me. I'm terrified, rooted in place by my fear. I want someone to stop this, to change my fate. But that's impossible.

The snow crunches softly under my feet as I finally move. I head for the stage like a lonely tower, the crowd parting for me and murmuring softly to themselves. When I finally reach the stage, Elsa smiles at me but I am unable to return it. She will watch me die and call it "entertainment". I could never bring myself to smile at a person like that.

"Welcome! Welcome!" Elsa pats my shoulder and addresses the crowd. "Please welcome our new female tribute for the 400th Annual Hunger Games, Rosalina Cosmic!"

It's just like my dream. Everything is happening just like it. I remember what happened last time, I screamed and woke up from this horrible nightmare. Maybe it will happen again. Maybe this too is just a dream...

The cameras are zoomed in in me but they don't see when I cry, as just when the first tear touches my face, a boy shouts from the crowd.

"I volunteer!"

A broad-shouldered boy shoves his way through the kids that surround him. I watch him jog up to the stage and feel anger in me. He volunteered so quickly because he wanted the spotlight, and while I have no desire for it myself, I hate him for his arrogance all the same.

Elsa smiles at the boy who towers over me. His ice blue eyes are filled with anger and burning desire. Elsa asks for his name. "I'm Todd Evans," He grunts as he surveys the crowd, still with a glare. "And I'm District Zero's next Victor."

Plainly spoken. The crowd doesn't have much of a reaction beyond a few scattered rounds of applause and then Elsa has us shake hands. His massive hand dwarfs mine and he practically crushes me with his iron grip, not letting go until I gasp and squirm away.

I hate him. I don't even know him and yet I hate him. It doesn't help matters knowing that he'll survive longer than I will. I'll just be a quick death, inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. Still, it's not myself who I mourn for. It's my mother. I know how she'll feel as I die, how she'll be forced to live with the fact that both me and father have left her...

"It is now time to see who our voted in All-Stars are!" Elsa claps excitedly and has both me and Todd step to the back of the stage. The boy is still glaring and I think he has that look permanently etched on his face. "So, without further ado..." A envelope has appeared in Elsa's hands and now she has the cage tributes apt attention as she opens the white paper. "Our two All-Stars, voted on by the glorious Capitol, are...Aelia Freedome and Solar Energy!"

The chains come undone and the selected tributes quickly stumble out of the glass jar, carefully crossing the plank that has appeared and clambering onto the stage. Fenrir is clearly unhappy and is screaming his head off about how Odin will strike us down. Then a Peacekeeper leans over the railing and shoots him in the head.

The applause that greeted the arrival of Solar and Aelia breaks off into startled screams as a bullet rips through the boy's skull. Bailey, the other tribute who wasn't voted in, screams just before another Peacekeeper shoots her.

The crowd falls silent as it witnesses what happens to the tributes who aren't voted in. It's brutal, unrelenting, unnecessary. Just like the Hunger Games.

My fellow tributes watch the spectacle with the knowledge that a similar fate awaits us. Death will come for us all. Solar is impassive, but his eyes give away the sorrow he feels. Todd still has that glare on his face and Aelia...Aelia is shaking with fury. Her eyes are locked firmly on the Peacekeepers that fired the guns, her hatred for them and what they stand for clear. She's doing all it takes not to just jump up and fight them, as is her reckless nature. As for myself...

I just feel sad. Sad for the dead kids, sad for the living kids, sad for myself and sad for my mother. My sorrow is my everything.

District One: Anais Morrisa
I stare my own reflected magnificence, see my dress, a brilliant golden satin, as it seemly to burned with its own inner color. I spin around, enjoying the whirlwind of gold that glitters around me. When I finally stop, I enjoy examining my dress and the curious design that covered the front of my legs with a short skirt, yet was floor-length in back. It is absolutely perfect.

Just like everything else has been for the past year.

Winning the Hunger Games has granted me anything that I could possibly need: Wealth, dresses, makeup, power, Leo. Anything and everything. I have it all. I suppose a large part of it is because of Leo, and how he dotes upon me. During my visits to the Capitol, which are becoming more and more often, he goes out of his way to ensure that I have whatever it is that I desire. Soon enough, I'll have all of Panem under my rule. I'll have everything that matters.

Including one very important thing...

I roll a small, golden locket around my fingers. The thin golden chain slips across my palm and I open the clasp to reveal a small picture of my darling sister. Carmine.

"Oh how I miss you," I speak quietly into the locket. "But don't worry. You're being voted in." Carmine will renter the Hunger Games. She'll be voted in by the Capitol and will compete once more, this time without me. And without having to worry about me, she'll win. I know she will.

I snap my locket shut and place it around my neck as I depart the dressing room. Leo has personally assured me that Carmine was the leading vote getter for all of District 2. He has also told me that, even if she didn't get the necessary votes, he'd, ahem, use his "presidential powers" to ensure that she would be revived. Leo never disappoints me!

Grinning to myself, I turn down the hall and nearly jump out of my skin as I come face to face with one of my bodyguards, Shay. "Need you always creep around corners?" I demand, flustered and embarrassed that I was caught off guard. I smooth out the wrinkles in my dress as I await her reply but, as usual, she doesn't answer. She merely nods her head and steps aside for me. I purse my lips and watch her, wondering just where Leo found both this girl and her elder associate, Shiva.

The two of them are the only people who ever manage to sneak up on me or catch me unawares. An incredibly uncomfortable thing, especially when they're continually following me around on Leo's express orders. "Don't surprise me like that again!" I tell her and then continue off on my way. I hear her footsteps as she falls into line behind me. Following. Always following.

I find Shiva in my kitchen, sitting passively in the corner as Avoxes bustle to and fro like worker bees. As usual, I note the vast amounts of weapons hidden around her personage. The woman even has a knife tucked into her hair for goodness sake! But...today it appears that she has more weapons on her then normal, if that was possible. "Do you have enough weapons, you think?" I ask her with a sweet smile. Her dark eyes swivel to meet mine but she shows no expression as she answers.

"Yes."

It seems that my bodyguards only ever say "yes" or "no". And it's always Shiva who speaks, never Shay. The girl hasn't send a single word during the past year. Whenever I address her she just watches me with her intelligent eyes, waiting for Shiva to answer. Or when her elder isn't around, she'll simply just refuse to speak at all. Hmm. I'll have to remember to ask Leo about that when I meet him in the Capitol.

"Excuse me, Madame Morrisa!" A voice gets my attention.

A short, portly man hobbles into the kitchen. As is the norm, he is wearing both his spectacles and a calm demeanor. His hands are nearly hidden by the deep sleeves of his gold and red robe that he always is wearing.

"Yes, Llarimar?" I address my attendant with a charming smile. He, like Shay and Shiva, is just another by-product of becoming a Victor. Leo told me that the man would be my personal servant. One who would lead the others and issue the orders that I was too high and important to dwell on. "What is it that bothers you?"

The chubby man glances at my two guards before answering, for they have always made him uncomfortable for some reason. "You, ah, I mean, we need to be on our way. The Reaping will be beginning in just a short half-hour."

"Of course, Llarimar. We'll be off at once."

This pleases my attendant and he waves the Avoxes back to their duties and hobbles after me as I make for the door. But before I can reach it, Shiva shoves her way past me and jerks it open. "Not this again..." I sigh inwardly as my guard proceeds to step into the bright and sunny day. She then checks the bushes and the nearby trees. She examines the windows of my manor and checks underneath the cars. Because of Leo's insane safety protocols, she must do this every time I exit my own house.

"Was that necessary?" I ask her when she finishes with the ridiculous search.

She regards me with a flat stare. "Yes."

"President Stryker only has your interests at heart," Llarimar says before I can speak. He steps out the door and heads for the long black limousine that will take me to the Reaping. "You cannot begrudge him for wishing to keep you safe."

"No..." I muse as I follow him down the paved pathway through the magnificent garden that grows in my yard. Despite being the youngest and newest Victor, I have the largest mansion in the Victor Village. I sleep in a room draped with silks, dyed with bright pinks and purples. My manor holds dozens of different chambers, all decorated and furnished according to my whims. Dozens of servants and Avoxes see to my needs—whether I want them seen to or not. "I suppose not. But can I begrudge you, Llarimar?"

I've reached the limousine and Shay opens the door for me and I clamber in, seating myself on the finest leather seats. Llarimar comes in too, sitting across from me with a pinkened face.

"Me, Madame Morrisa?" He asks incredulously. "Why would you begrudge me?"

"Hmm." I pause, as if thinking. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's because you refuse to tell me what's going on in the Capitol and how the war is progressing!"

Llarimar blanched at my words and he begins to tug at his collar, looking most uncomfortable. "Well, uh, you see...His Excellency has told me not to bother you with, ahem, worthless details." I frown. Llarimar isn't like the other servants, he's actually something of worth to the Capitol. A renowned scholar whose intelligence is much higher than he makes it seem. He's also my only link to the Capitol while I'm living in District 1, for he has communications with Capitol officials daily.

"But Leo isn't here right now, is he?" I fold my hands together and pout, trying to garner his sympathies. It doesn't work.

"I cannot divulge information," Llarimar shakes his head diligently. "Not until I am authorized to do so!"

I sigh dramatically. Llarimar is too professional for his own good. But still... "How much are you being paid?" I ask and he looks up in surprise. "Whatever it is, I'll double it. But only if you tell me how the war goes..."

Llarimar bites his lip nervously and I can practically see the gears in his head churning as he tries to decide if it's worth it. After all, he could be in real trouble if word got out he told me. "No one is going to know," I smile smoothly and flash my most charming smile. Llarimar frowns but finally breaks.

"Fine...But I do expect my pay to be raised!" He wags a finger and mumbles something about deserving more than he earns.

"Of course. You'll get your pay." I catch Shay smirking as she sits in the seat just ahead of ours. Aha! So she does have emotions! There goes my robot theory...

"Well, about the war..." Llarimar seems uncomfortable as he begins to talk. No doubt he's wondering if he could have gotten off with his pay tripled. "It...it doesn't go well. Our forces outnumber theirs to a large degree, yes. But we can never engage them in open combat and they're too smart to be baited into it."

Not what I was particularly wanting to hear. These rebels, what was the ridiculous name they gave themselves? Those Who Don't Exist? Well, these rebels are on all accounts the most horrid people you could imagine. Leo himself has a personal reason for wanting their ultimate destruction..."Have we learned anything about them?" I ask. "Anything at all?"

"Not much. We rarely capture any of them alive, you see. And when we do..." He trails off, coughing slightly. I impatiently wave for him to continue and he does. "Every time we catch one, they manage to, eh, kill themselves."

"Really? And how do they manage that?"

Llarimar shrugs his shoulders. "It varies. Some eat poison capsules, others use hidden blades. Some...explode."

"Explode?" For some reason I find that hard to believe. "How? I dare say it can't just be spontaneous combustion."

"We don't rightly know. Many suspect they have bombs built into their bodies, but that has yet to be confirmed..." Llarimar stares blankly into the distance and I mull over what I've learned. They're a formidable foe, alright. Using their own foot soldiers as bombs? It's despicable...but also ingenious. I feel a envious twinge in me for not coming up with the idea myself.

"Who controls them?" I ask, startling Llarimar out of his stupor. "Is it still the man who...murdered Leo's mother?"

Llarimar looks around nervously, as if he thinks that he'll be jumped at any moment. Then he speaks, his voice low. "Yes. He's apart of the Council that runs the group. There's seven of them. All named after playing cards. That's one of the few things we've learned, along with..." He stops himself and turns to gaze out the window. "No. I have said too much. President Stryker wouldn't want me to say more."

"Continue, Llarimar!" I speak with much more force then necessary. If there's something I don't like, it's not being allowed to know something that I really, really want to know. "Continue now or I'll call off your pay raise!"

"No! Don't do that!" He sighs and then massages his temples. "It's...they have a tower. A massive one. As tall as the biggest building in the Capitol, if not larger."

"That doesn't sound so special," I say, feeling disappointed at this revelation.

"That's not the only thing. This tower...it...flies."

"Excuse me?" I can't suppress my giggles at this absurd proclamation. "It sounds like you just said their tower flies!"

"I said it because it's true. It flies, just like our hovercrafts. We have no idea how they managed that, how they keep such a massive building in the air. But somehow they do." Llarimar shakes his head sadly, as if this magic tower stole his cookies. I don't say anything. What could I say to that? A flying tower? The very thought is ridiculous. But...I have seen some far-fetched things in the Hunger Games before. But that was the Capitol making it, the strongest force on the planet. There's no way some rebel force could control a giant, flying tower...

My limousine suddenly comes to a halt and Llarimar can't get out quick enough. He squeezes his portly frame through the door as soon as the vehicle comes to halt and then addresses me. "We should get to the stage, Madame Morrisa. You don't want to be late."

I'm sorted into a golden chair, alongside the other District 1 Victors. Delilah Gaulle, the escort, is awaiting her chance to speak to the crowd. Right now the Mayor is giving the usual speech and I'm focusing on the caged tributes, wondering which ones would get voted in. I suppose I could have asked Leo about who'd win, but I prefer to be surprised. It's more fun that way. Unless Jake gets in...

"Good luck with your mentoring gig," A crimson haired woman sits down next to me. "Last year was...chaotic."

"Oh! Hello, Rubelia!" I greet her cheerfully. Rubelia was one of District 1's mentors from last year and one of the few who survived the "virus" that claimed most of their lives. "And thank you for the kind words!" I'm used to this. Meaningless conversation where you flatter the other person for no reason other than the boost their ego and make them like you. Even if you personally despise the person.

"Your dress is gorgeous by the way," Rubelia says as she looks it over with envious eyes.

"Oh thank you!" I giggle and swat the air. "Your dress is magnificent too!"

She thanks me and doles out another compliment. Then I repeat this until she finally gets to her point. "I've heard a rumor..." She begins slowly and I arch my eyebrows.

"Have you now? And what was it about?"

Rubelia smiles. "Oh. Nothing much. Just...is it true? Are you and our esteemed President now an item?"

A coy smile forms on my face. I knew she'd ask, with how nosy she is it was just a matter of time. "I thought that you'd already know the truth, Rubelia," I begin. "With you being a social queen and all."

She smiles again, but only with her mouth. Her eyes watch me coldly. "You should watch yourself, Morrisa. Or your actions will bring you unwanted attention."

"Oh, I think I want all the attention. It makes me feel rather special."

I laugh silently at the anger that flares in her scarlet eyes. Another jealous vixen. Oh, how many I have encountered recently. "You shouldn't want it," Rubelia growls. "Because not all attention is safe."

"I suppose not. I wonder if that's the reason Shiva has her knives pointed at you?" My innocent question has her spinning around in a vain attempt to spot my bodyguard. But before she can, Delilah takes to the microphone and the formalities begin. I'm introduced to a thunderous amount of applause and cheering. I courtesy to the crowd and enjoy the nasty looks I get from Rubelia and the other female Victors. All of them wish they were me. Afterwards, Delilah gets to the Reaping.

"Hello District 1!" She waves to the crowd whilst giggling to herself. "I'm Delilah Gaulle and I am your Escort!...but of course you already knew that! I wonder..." She places her hand on her chin as if she was thinking. "Does District 1 have a Victor this year?"

"YES!" The crowd responds as per usual.

"Since we had so much luck last time, let's keep it the same! Ladies first!"

It's the same as last year, when I competed. All the girls who've went through the volunteering process shout out their intentions and then Delilah picks one. I suppose you could say that she was the reason I won, but that would be utter stupidity. Delilah wasn't fighting with me in the Games. I'm the only reason I won.

"Oh, you! I pick you!" Delilah points at a large, tan girl who wastes no time ascending to the stage. I wrinkle my nose as I get a closer look. The girl is over six feet tall and muscular, looking nothing like a proper lady. She's dressed in shabby black clothing and her sunset orange hair is messy and unkempt. She does have a streak of red in her hair, showing that she at least tried to make herself beautiful. Unfortunately for her, she looks more like a filthy outlying District tribute then one from District 1.

Delilah asks for a name and the girl gives it. "Anissa Fallows."

That's all. She just stands there and looks tough. I get a very rebellious feeling from her and know right away that we won't get along. Delilah repeats the process and soon a boy has joined Anissa on stage. He's taller than her and has slick, black hair and dazzling green eyes. But the most eye-catching thing about him is his hands.

His fingers are missing. Or most are. The rest are all misshapen, tiny, and undeveloped. They are a disgusting sight and I feel repulsed that I have to mentor him and' Anissa. One is a shabby rebel and the other is a lousy cripple.

"I'm Cullinan Beryll!" The boy introduces himself to the crowd but there's not much cheering. Majority of the people are staring his crumbled hands. He notices and laughs. "Yeah, my fingers are pretty messed up. Been that way my entire life. But don't worry! I have my iron feet to protect me!"

The boy does a flashy, leaping kick and the crowd breaks into applause when he lands. He beams proudly and I notice the muscular bands of his legs for the first time. Impressive, but not something that would help him win the Games. Have you ever heard of someone killing tons of people with their feet? No? That's because it can't happen. This boy is as good as dead.

Delilah spends a few more moments with the two new kids before turning to the caged All-Stars. I'm hoping that we'll get a strong pair out of this group. Like Elvis and Cole, the due that survived the Death Duel. I look forward to mentoring them, something I can't say for the reaped tributes.

"And the two tributes voted into the 400th Annual Hunger Games are...Jake Locketback and Trinity Mace!"

Jake?! Who in their right mind would vote for him? He was a complete disgrace of a tribute! But he's in. Personal feelings aside, he has somehow managed to weasel his way into the Games once more. I grimly watch him as he and Trinity, whom is at least decent, are freed from their cages and led to the stage. The tributes who weren't voted in look on in shock when the Peacekeepers guarding the cage suddenly open fire.

Confined in the box and tied down, they have no where to go as the bullets rip through them. They're torn to shreds and their blood splatters in the glass walls as the crowd cheers triumphantly. Oh, some of them are disappointed that their favourite was just killed, of course. But majority are just happy that they got a little taste of the action before the Games even begin.

"Wasn't that just delightful?" Delilah claps once the shooting stops. The crowd roars in approval and I smile when I see the disgusted looks on a few of the tributes faces. They don't have the stomach for this. And that means they won't have what it takes to emerge as Victor.

District Two: Ena Shea
Thwang!

My arrow smacks into the center of the target, the feathered end twitching from impact. Another perfect shot. Another reason why my odds of surviving the biggest Hunger Games of all time is higher than the average tribute.

"But, still not good enough!" I mutter under my breath and reload my bow, slipping another arrow out from my quiver. The string touches my lips as I pull back and then I release, sending the arrow whizzing through the air.

Another bulls-eye. The wooden target board shudders from the impact and I growl impatiently. It wasn't strong enough! It didn't have enough force! If I want to win these Games, if I want to win Noah's love, I need to be the best. Not among the best. I need to be better than everyone else. I need to be the best at everything.

Starting with archery.

I go through the motions all over again, knocking and aiming an arrow. This time my arrow slices through the air like a bullet, slamming into the target with so much force that it comes loose from its holding and tumbles to the soft grass below.

"Hmmph. Better." I toss my quiver to the side and deposit my bow on the rack in the small shed that borders the metal fence. "But it's still not enough." The best tributes of the past century will be in these Games. The strongest, the smartest, the bravest, the craziest. All of them will be competing, along with a host of new talent. I need to be better than them all or Noah...he won't...

A small cry escapes my lips, but I slap myself in the face. "Get a hold of yourself, Ena!" I pinch my arms as I trudge towards the deserted roadway. "You can't allow your emotions to cloud your thinking! You'll never get Noah's love if you do that!"

Noah...

I met him years ago, when I first attended the training academy. I was an expert at climbing and utilizing an ice pick. I was so good, that I got his attention right away. I didn't want to befriend him at first, I was never much for speaking and trying to socialize was a nightmare for me. But Noah saw past that and he even managed to have me emerge from my shell, though only around him.

We were such great friends...We did everything together. We trained, watched the Games, everything. I soon fell in love with him, but..

He never loved me. I knew that right away, I could always tell what he was feeling. I was just his best friend, nothing more. That enough was hard to accept, but it became unbearable when I saw him with her. Emma MacDonald. The prettiest girl in all of District 2 who was everything I'm not. Blonde, beautiful, caring, and very charismatic. She's the epitome of perfection. And Noah was in love with her.

I continue along the road, feeling terrible as I walk in the shadows of the buildings. Whenever we were together Noah would just talk about Emma almost non-stop. I hate her. I hate her, yet I have no real reason. She's always so nice to me. In fact...

She's so perfect it makes me sick.

She's kind of girl who rescues puppies and cries rainbows. The kind I could never compete with...unless, unless I won the Hunger Games. But not just any Games, the greatest Games of all time...

I pass by the park we spent all our time at on my way towards the Reaping and the memory of him knocking at my window comes back. I had thought he had come to proclaim his love for me, but...He took me to this park, and that's when I noticed the look in his eyes and knew that he wouldn't be mine. Ever.

I kissed him when we came back to my house, but he only pulled away and looked upset. And I was so torn apart...

The Reaping area comes into view, thankfully pulling my attention away from that sadness. I haven't lost Noah. I'll win him back when I conquer the Games. I know I will, I must.

A Peacekeeper takes my blood when I arrive at the bustling crowd, alive with happy voices and laughter. This is a joyous occasion for most, but I'm too terrified of losing that I can't fully enjoy it. Not until I get my Noah.

My eyes seek him out when I enter the crowd of kids eligible to be Reaped. I don't see him, but I do see her.

Emma MacDonald calls out a greeting as I pass by, but I ignore it and push to the front of the crowd, where I get a good look at the stage. The Mayor is reading off a list of what makes these Games so special, and then names the two tributes who we all watched survive the Death Duel; Chloe Black and Pansy Costella. An uneasy feeling stirs in my gut. Those two girls were both ruthless in their original Games. Can I really best them and countless others? I am one of the Academy's best, but...

"Greetings, District 2!" The mic has been passed off to Waco Dawls, our escort. "As we all know, we have joined here today to discover which two fine young people will represent District 2 in the 400th Hunger Games!"

"I volunteer!" I can't stay silent any longer, not even to follow protocol. If I waited for the proper moment, I could have been passed over for someone else. "I volunteer as tribute!"

"Then come on up!" Waco grins and motions for me to join him on the stage. "What's your name?" He asks as I begin to look over the crowd, searching for Noah. Where is he? Does he see me? Is he surprised? Does he...realize how strong I am? "Excuse me? Umm, miss?" Waco waves a hand across my face, pulling me back into the real world. The crowd is waiting for my answer.

"Oh. I'm...Ena Shea," My words seem to come out slow and unsure and I curse myself for appearing weak. You only have one chance to make a first impression.

"Well Ena, let's see who your male counterpart will be!" Waco asks for volunteers, but none come forth. He's obviously surprised, and sits around for a moment, wondering what was going on I know what it is. No one wants to volunteer for these Games, where death is certain. So, Waco just draws a name, but before he can finish reading it the stage is being rushed by a gigantic banana. Wait...No. It's not a banana, but rather a boy dressed in a bright yellow jumpsuit with a gold bandanna drapped around his neck. He's a ridiculous sight, but he doesn't seem to notice as he strikes a pose in the middle of the stage.

"What..." Waco stares, at a loss for words. It's not until the boy begins a series of flashy punches and kicks that he regains his composure. "Are...are you a volunteer?" He asks after a brief moment of hesitation.

"Oh, yeah! I'm a volunteer alright!" The boy jumps to the sky and punches the air, his platinum ponytail bouncing on his back. "Rodeo Baldios, here to serve you a fresh, steaming hot, plate of cold justice!"

I...don't understand. What exactly is this boy doing? Waco is dumbfounded, as is the crowd. An uncomfortable silence has taken hold of the clearing and it isn't broken until I speak. "How can you have "steaming hot, cold justice"?" I ask, confused.

Rodeo's teal eyes turn to face me and his grin widens. "I'm glad you asked, noble citizen!" As he pulls himself up straighter, I notice that he's actually pretty tall. Probably around six and a half feet, maybe a little under. "It's both steaming hot and cold, because it is justice supreme! The biggest, boldest, strongest form of justice there is! In fact--"

"Yes, yes. We all get the point!" Waco cuts in, his voice tinged with irritation. "Just...stay silent, okay?"

"I shall never fall silent about the noble virtues of just--"

Waco pulls the microphone away from the boy's face and his words are lost to the crowd as our escort attempts to put the Reaping back on track. Even though I found Rodeo's boisterous attitude annoying, I miss it almost as soon as it stops, because without anything for my mind to focus on, it goes back to thinking about Noah and how I could lose him. My eyes scan the crowd for his face, desperately hoping that he'll have realized his love for me already, so that my fear that he won't even if I do win may disappear. There would be nothing worse, then to win the Games only to come home and find out he still doesn't care for me the way I care for him...

"Psst! Ena!"

I nearly jump out of my skin as Rodeo appears at my shoulder, a stupid grin on his face. "What do you want?" I demand, a little too harshly. "Don't you have some justice to talk about?"

"I am talking about justice!" I stifle a laugh as he puts his head in the air, actually offended at what I said.

"How so?" I'm not interested in anything he has to say, but at the same time...I am.

He places a hand upon his chin, deep in thought. "I'm trying to decide whether you're an evildoer or not."

"What?" This time I don't hold the laughter back. Evilerdoer? What does he think he is? Some kind of superhero?

"I can't yet tell if you're like the rest of District 2. Eager to kill just because you think it's fun. You did volunteer. But you had a vaguely sad feeling around you..." My laughter stops and worry takes it's place. How did he know I was sad? Was it that obvious? If the whole District noticed then...then my hopes of being a fan favourite could have just been dashed tiny little pieces... "Are you joining the Careers?"

"What?"

"Are you joining the Careers? Because if you are, then I'll have my answer. You'll be an evildoer and I will have no choice but to wipe you off the face of this planet!"

"I..don't know."

It was an easy decision, before the Reaping. Why wouldn't I join the Careers? They're obviously going to be the biggest and deadliest alliance, sure to dominate the first half of the Games. But when I put actual thought into it...Maybe I'd be better off with a smaller, lower profile alliance. I'd be less of a target and I definitely wouldn't have this psycho trying to kill me for being an "evildoer".

Rodeo is watching me closely and it appears that he is going to say something when the sound of gunfire erupts, followed by vicious cheering.

The box that held the All-Stars has become a killing field. The tributes lie dead or near dead, their blood seeping out from the wounds that cover them. I'm shocked that they would just kill the tributes without first getting the voted one's out, but then I see that they already have. Two kids stand beside Waco.

"Please give one last welcome to Carmine Morrisa and Luigi Wilkins!" He's speaking to the crowd, showing off the lucky ones. Neither of them look particularly happy, or even sad. This faces are just blank slates. Probably because they're both emotionless fighters.

"No!"

An enraged, almost inhuman shout interrupts the proceedings as Rodeo shoves me to the ground on his way towards the box. From the ground, I watch as he charges the Peacekeepers who shot the tributes, and punches the nearest one in the gut.

The others raise their guns, but are shouted down by Waco and the Mayor, both who aren't very keen on the idea of losing a tribute this early. Seeing this, the Peacekeepers hesitate. But Rodeo doesn't. He plows his shoulder into one of them and tackles him to the ground, raving about justice and destroying evil. He's hitting the Peacekeeper with savage punches when one of the others pulls his tazer out and jabs it into Rodeo's back, wherein he gives a pained shout and falls to the ground, shaking with spasms as the Peacekeepers crowd around and beat him with their batons. I turn away from the brutal scene, feeling conflicted.

"Well, that was...interesting, wasn't it?" Waco grins stupidly as he addresses the cheering crowd. "Let's hope that he shows that much intensity in the Hunger Games!"

District Three: Watt Chargy
I jerk awake, sweat rolling down my forehead and cheeks. Sunlight pours in through the nearby window, illuminating the room that I sleep in. It takes me a few moments to realize what day it is.

Reaping day.

How many times has it been now? How many years since I won? I lost track a long time ago; stopped paying attention to the passing time when my best friend, Charce Firre, died of natural causes. He was one of the only people I could relate to, someone who understood what I went through and what I suffer from on a nightly basis. Annabeth did, too.

Annabeth...

It all comes rushing back to me, the knowledge that this is not a normal year. Tributes will be revived for the Games, allowed to compete once more. It'll only be the second time it's ever happened. The first was in the 327th Hunger Games, the Games that I won.

It's unsettling, remembering that I was once dead for an entire year. Dead and buried. The very thought brings a chill to me, even though I'm lying in a warm bed in the middle of summer. How did the Capitol revive me? It's not possible. Not plausible. There's no science on how to bring someone back to life, on how to make them living again. It's just...unnatural.

The thought swims around in my head as I slowly climb out of bed and get dressed. I've been thinking on this very subject for a long seventy-three years now. And I still don't have any answers.

No one does.

I make my way down to the kitchen without much hassle, I feel stronger today than I do on most, where I sometimes can't even bring myself to get out of bed. In my tiled room where the food is cooked, I find Kathryn.

She's a woman in her late thirties, my housekeeper who makes sure that everything runs fine and that the rooms are cleaned. I'm very thankful for her, not many people in District 3 wish to work for the Capitol's Victors, and I simply detest the very concept of Avoxes.

"Sleep well?" Kathryn asks me as I bypass the table and head straight for the hallway closet.

"As well as one can, given the day," I pull my coat off the hook and have a slight struggle in putting it on. When I turn around, I see Kathryn watching me with pursed lips.

"Not eating breakfast today, Watt?" She asks.

"No...you know I don't have much of an appetite on Reaping day." I don't know how one could eat, knowing that kids are being sent to their deaths.

"But you must keep your strength up, if you're going to mentor!"

"I'll eat on the train," I lie and head for the door. I feel bad for disappointing Kathryn, but I just don't have the desire to eat right now. Especially not with the irritating headaches I've been having...

"And last but not least, I give to you, our oldest Victor and the smartest woman in the entire District, Watt Chargy!"

The crowd breaks into applause for me, and I feel the tears sliding down my cheek. Their love for me always manages to touch my emotional side, make me cry. But that's not the only reason. I'm also crying because I see her, Annabeth.

Locked inside the glass box that sits in the middle of the gathered crowd, looking disgruntled, but as resilient as ever, sits my friend. Her eyes seek me out when my name is called, and I see the surprise in her eyes. I've aged during these past seventy-three years, becoming an old woman. But she's still as young as she was the die she died. She's still sixteen, still vibrant and youthful.

I remember when she died in my arms, how I couldn't stop death from taking her. We don't always get what we want. Her last words to me echo in my head, reminding me that just because she's sitting in front of me doesn't mean that I'll get to reunite with her. She still has to be voted in, and if that's done, she'll need to win the Hunger Games. Something she has failed at before.

My introduction is over, the Mayor waves me to my seat at the very back of the stage, and I sit myself down upon the silver chair studded with electric blue crystals. I'm still focused on the box, in the other girls in there with Annabeth. Because I won and avoided this fate, therefore are only two of them. Sombra Celesta, a wicked girl who aligned with the Careers and wound up burning to death, and Iris Pixel, someone who didn't deserve to be in the Games and a tribute I mentored just last year. A horrible tightness grips my chest as I find myself hoping that the Capitol didn't vote her in over Annabeth.

The feeling gets worse when I pay attention to the boys in the box. Courage Blitz is there, the boy who had himself killed so that Cassandra and myself may live. Unlike with Annabeth, I don't want him to be voted in. He's already lived a life full of horror and tragedy, and doesn't deserve to have anymore.

And the other three...Wario Wade is clinking his handcuffs together, either enjoying the sound it makes or just biding his time. Aspen Bolts is holding hands with Iris and whispering into her ear, and Shuppet Jorravaskr is trying to pick the lock on his handcuffs with something small and slender. I don't know which one of them I want to get in...

"You okay?"

Despite sitting on the middle of a stage, surrounded by hundreds of people, I still jump when the voice speaks from my left. A young man laughs. "Didn't mean to scare you. But I'll be mentoring those kids with you. I'm Axiom Jolt."

He offers me his hand and I shake it as his eyes watch Lysander Bilegin continues to go on about the history of the Hunger Games, and listing the names of all the Victors ever. "I...I'm fine."

Axiom grins, his blue eyes flashing with a mischievous glint. "That's good! Wouldn't want my fellow mentor to be ill!" He wipes back his slick ebony hair and then points straight at Annabeth. "She a friend of yours?"

"I--How did you know?"

I think I spoke a bit too forcefully, for Axiom's grin disappears. "I watched the Games you won, and, well, it was apparent that the two of you got along..." He sounds disappointed, like a kid who failed his teacher. I suddenly feel bad, remembering that the boy was only in his early twenties. But I still don't like having my personal life just brought out from the blue.

"Why would you watch the Games?" I ask in disdain. "They're all horrible, horrible things. I can barely stomach to even watch the Games I'm mentoring!"

Surprise flashes across his naive face as he rushes to answer me. "No! I agree! It's just that I've never mentored before, and, well, I needed to watch old Games to learn what I'm supposed to do..."

Pity for the boy stirs in me. I remember how difficult it was for me, the first time I was a mentor. But, something doesn't add up. "How come you haven't been a mentor before? Everyone always mentors the year after they win."

Axiom's face darkens a bit as he looks down at his feet. Lysander is still droning on about the Victors, and I think that I'm not going to get an answer, but then Axiom looks back up, smiling a bit too forcefully. "I, well, I won the 394th Hunger Games. The one with Pompeii. You remember him?"

I do. Pompeii was a boy from District 1, strong, fast, intelligent, and handsome. He was the perfect picture of what a tribute should be, one who embodied everything the Capitol stands for. He dominated his Games, killing several big threats at the bloodbath. It soon became obvious that he was the one to beat, so the other Careers made a plot to kill him in his sleep. It would have worked, had a pack of mutts not attacked that night. They killed or drove off the Careers, but oddly didn't even touch Pompeii. Everyone in District 3 began to assume that the Gamemakers were rigging it for him.

"He was supposed to win, you see," Axiom continues. "But, well, I kind of ruined that..." I can't tell whether the look on his face is embarrassment or pride as he stops to slick back his hair again.

"You made a magnet, didn't you?" I interject and he beams proudly.

"I did! I knew that the double tipped spear that Pompeii favoured was made completely from metal, so I simply placed the magnet in a specific location and led him there. When he threw the spear, well, you know what happened next."

A vivid flashback of Pompeii being impaled with his own spear flashes in my head. "Yes. I do."

"It was pretty upsetting for the Capitol, you see. Their champion being defeated by a simple tech geek from District 3? The very thought was absurd! I paid a hefty price for that victory. Not being allowed to mentor least among them..."

Sorrow floods his eyes, and I can only fathom as to what sort of punishment he had to endure. Frankly, I'm surprised that he's still alive, given how cruel the Capitol can be. "Why are you allowed to mentor now?" I ask. "What changed?"

Axiom shrugs and leans back in his chair, Lysander is getting to the end of his speech now. "Nothing really. It's just that the other Victors are too afraid to mentor now. Twelve of them did die last year..."

We fall silent. I remember how, what the Capitol called a virus, wiped out most of the mentors that remained in the facility near the end of the Games. I still doubt that, doubt that it was virus. I never saw the bodies, so they may not have even died. But I don't know what else could have happened to them...

"And now, for the moment you've all been waiting for, we will find out who your tributes in the 399th Annual Hunger Games will be!" Lysander has finished his speech and waves his arms for the two bowls to be wheeled out. The crowd holds their collected breaths as he reaches a spindly hand into the first bowl. "And the new female tribute for the 400th Annual Hunger Games is..." His long fingers unwrap the paper, and he reads the name out loud. "Ziya Ashton!"

People in the crowd begin to look around for the reaped tribute, try to get a good look. I don't see her until she pushes her way out of the fifteen year-olds line, and when I do, I sigh.

A skinny, frail looking girl with crimson hair, she barely looks like she can stand, yet alone fight. The crowd murmurs in disappointment as she hobbles up to the stage. No one likes to see sacrificial lambs. Though...I remember that many thought the same of me. Then again, I did die in my first Games.

"Is something wrong?" Axiom whispers to me, seeing the crowd's reaction but being too naive to realize why they're reacting like that.

I just sigh in response. Ziya has reached Lysander and he sniffs indignantly, but introduces her to the crowd all the same. She looks even worse up close, like she hasn't had a meal in days. Her face is gaunt and her ribs are clearly visible, though I do see a spark of hope in her eyes. Maybe she can win this...

Lysander spends as little time as possible on parading Ziya and just goes straight to the next bowl. "And the new male tribute for the 400th Annual Hunger Games is..." His long fingers unwrap the paper for the second time, and he reads the name out loud. "Caspian Mahoney!"

The boy is about the exact opposite of Ziya. Muscular, tall, and obviously well-fed. He strolls to the stage, seemingly at ease. His hair is dark brown and spiked, his skin pale and marked. But the most striking thing, for me, is his eyes. Dark brown and slightly droopy, they reveal a dark anger harbouring inside him. An anger that radiates out of him like an aura. I might be the only one who notices, because Lysander is clapping and Axiom is grinning foolishly. "He looks strong!" He tells me for no apparent reason.

"Well met, Mister Mahoney!" Lysander shakes the boy's hand.

"Indeed," The boy has an accent, smooth and buttery. I already know he'll be a hit with the teenage girls in the Capitol.

The niceties continue, though Caspian doesn't say much. I'm still thinking about the strange feeling I get from him when Lysander moves on to the All-Stars. "Now, it is time to learn who else will be joining Caspian, Noah, and Chip in the 400th Annual Hunger Games!" He names the two boys who won the death duels, but somehow excludes Ziya. "In this envelope," His long fingers shake a manila envelope back and forth. "Is the names of two tributes. Two tributes who will be allowed to compete once more!"

My eyes flicker to Annabeth. She's watching the envelope with eager eyes, and I feel a nauseating feeling in my gut. What if her name isn't in that envelope? What happens then?

"The tributes who will compete are...Courage Blitz and Annabeth March!"

Relief floods through me and I actually feel tears welling in my eyes. It's happened! Annabeth will be back! She'll...compete in the Hunger Games. My joy fades away, remembering the bad part of this situation.

Annabeth's chains have slipped away, so have Courage's. The two of them are stepping out of the box when suddenly someone pushes pass them and makes a break for the nearest alleyway. There's shouts from the Peacekeepers and murmurs from the crowd. What's going on? I count the tributes still in the box as the door immediately slams shut. One, two, three, four...

Where's Shuppet?

I remember how he was fiddling with his chains, trying to pick them. Did he somehow exceed at unlocking them? Is that possible? It must be, for he is missing from the box and several Peacekeepers push their way through the crowd, running for the same alley that the person disappeared into.

Everyone is shouting and talking and then gunfire is heard from the ally and that's when all hell breaks loose.

The Peacekeepers who didn't chase after Shuppet turn their guns upon the tributes still locked in the box and fire. It's barbaric and doesn't make any sense. Why are they shooting them? Are they afraid they'll also try to escape? It's a bloodbath; the tributes stand no chance. When they all die, the crowd begins to scream and panic, attempting to run away. It's a difficult job for the Peacekeepers to try and stop them, especially since half of their number went chasing after Shuppet.

Lysander is screaming into his microphone, demanding that order be restored. No one is listening to him. Not the crowd, not the Peacekeepers, not even the tributes. My eyes are locked on Annabeth as she and Courage try to scamper up to the stage and avoid being trampled by the frenetic crowd.

I call for her and she leaps onto the side of the stage, where Axiom helps pull her up. She thanks him and rushes to hug me as he turns to help Courage. "I'm so glad to see you!" She's sobbing as she buries her face in my shoulder. "You helped my family, right?"

"Yes. Your siblings, they're still alive..."

That's all either of us can manage to say through the tears that have begun to leak. Courage and Axiom stand by our side, looking uncomfortable. Caspian is watching the chaos of the crowd with a wicked grin, and Ziya simply looks confused.

"Percy..." Annabeth whispers his name as a truck full of Peacekeepers pull into the clearing and attempt to restore order. "Is he...was he...?"

"District 4 hasn't had their Reaping yet," I say, wishing I had a better answer for her.

She looks grim as she let's go and watches the crowd slowly begin to stop their panicking. Those who resist are tazed or beaten down with batons, but they do it anyway. It's not until two Peacekeepers emerge from the alleyway, dragging along a broken and bloody body, does everyone finally stop.

"Shuppet..." Annabeth sounds upset, as if she wanted him to escape. I did too. But I knew he wouldn't. Where could he even have gone? There's no where the Capitol wouldn't have found him.

"You don't win against the Capitol," I say grimly as the boy's body is paraded around for all to see. "You don't even try. You just keep your head down, and hope that you survive."

District Four: Ryan Marine
The box begins to rise with a lurching shudder, sending me falling, pulling against the chains that hold me in place. I can hear murmurs and cries nearby; other tributes locked in this oversized display case with me. But I can't see them through this darkness that threatens to swallow me. I can't even see the tip of my nose.

"Where am I? What's happening?" The voice of a boy cries out from my left. He must be from one of the newer Games, otherwise he'd know exactly what's happening.

"We're in a box," A feminine voice responds from directly in front of me. Swatty Lakeside, maybe? "And pretty soon we'll be surrounded by the entire District. Just hope they voted you in."

"Huh? Voted in?" A girl's voice. Apparently the Capitol didn't bother informing these tributes about what's going on. Swatty goes to say something more when the box, which has been steadily rising, comes to a sudden halt. I'm jerked off of my feet, slipping and only being held up by the chains that shackle my wrists. A few of the others are groaning in pain; one mutters something about their head. Still too dark to see.

"Why did we stop?" A boy's gruff voice almost shouts his question. "And what were you prattling on about?"

"Should have paid attention when they revived us," Another feminine voice answers him. "They explained everything then." Ah. So they did explain it to them. Guess a few just weren't the listening type. Doesn't surprise me.

"Do you smell that?" Swatty, who had gone silent once the box stopped moving, suddenly speaks out. I stop moving and concentrate my nose on the smells beyond the sweaty scent of the kids around me.

"It's the ocean," I say immediately. "I'd recognize that smell anywhere. I've spent my entire life around it." The portion of it that wasn't trapped in the Hunger Games. I remember that fateful day, when my brother Brian was Reaped. Brian was a sickly kid, had been for the past month. I knew that he wouldn't last in the Games, and after realizing that no one else was going to volunteer, I did. I wonder if he's still alive...

I entered the Games that I had never particularly wanted to be apart of. I had watched them on the television, of course. But I never really wanted to try and fight for all that glory or fame, not when the price of failure was your life. But, well, my destiny was to enter anyways.

And then get killed by the Spectri.

Twice.

They're my mortal enemies, or at least they were. I realized that we weren't so dissimilar in the last few seconds of my life...but that doesn't mean I don't hate their guts. It's just that I don't want to risk my life hunting them down anymore.

"Don't you all think it's weird?" Swatty is asking the others when my awareness comes back to the black box we're all in.

"What's weird?" I think that's Percy speaking, a boy from my second Games.

"Us being revived? If the Capitol has that sort of technology, don't you think they'd use it on things more important then us tributes?"

A silent greets her words. Obviously we're all trying to think of what the Capitol could deem more important than the Games. I can't think of anything, not off the top of my head. "They could have revived Nolan Stryker," A girl says after a long pause. "President Styrker's father, who was assassinated."

"Exactly!" An excitement as tinged Swatty's words, as if she learned her opinion had finally been validated. "Why wouldn't they use their technology for that? For something more--Ahh!"

She breaks off into a scream, and the rest of us have no idea what happened or what she saw. Voices of the others begin to overlap as they all try to question her. I still can't see a thing through this suffocating darkness, but I notice that when I press my ear against the side, I hear the low drones of a crowd. "Everyone be silent!" I shout and the commotion ceases so quickly, that I'm taken quite back. "Press your ears to the wall!" I order.

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

I don't see it, but I hear their feet shifting and the chains clanking as the teenagers reposition themselves. I still can't make out any of the words, but I definitely hear something. "Its the crowd," I tell the others. "The Reaping crowd. Soon we'll be unveiled and the Reaping will begin."

"Didn't any of you hear that?" Swatty speaks for the first time since her alarming shout.

"Hear what?" Percy asks.

"It...it was a buzzing sound. And...it felt like it was drilling into my head, almost as if it was trying to get something...I don't remember..." She continues mumbling to herself, saying things that none of us understand. I catch a few words like "memories" and "compliance" but it's just worthless junk that I eventually tune out as I try to hear what is being said outside of this box.

Then the sun burns into my eyes.

We all scream as the darkness is suddenly and impossibly lifted. Intense rays of sunlight pour into our sockets, momentarily blinding us. The droning of the crowd is clearly audible now, and I even hear the District Four Mayor, or what I assume to be the Mayor, speaking over a microphone.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! There are your All-Stars, voted upon by the Capitol!"

Applause. My eyes have begun to adjust, and I now see the crowd assembled before us. They stand upon a sunny beach, ogling us with wide eyes. The stage is set up behind them, and the shape of buildings loom beyond that. Does that mean we're over the...

I look down and yelp in part shock part excitement. The floor of the box is just like the walls, transparent. Beneath it, waves of blue gently splash towards the shore and the crowd. We're hanging over the ocean!

"But for now, let us see our new tributes!" The Mayor steps back and introduce Karis Aeris, a young woman who is supposedly District 4's escort. She asks for volunteers from the boy's and in no time several boys volunteer. She chooses a boy in the front, a lean-muscled guy with wavy blonde hair. Surprisingly, he looks rather disappointed.

"What's your name?" Karis asks when he joins her.

"Dylan Murrow."

Yep. He definitely sounds disappointed. I wonder why, but deep down I know it doesn't matter why. Not for me, and not for him. "Well, I hope you perform admirably, Dylan!" Karis smiles and moves on to the next bowl. This time there are no volunteers. I guess the sheer amount of tributes have scared everyone off from risking their lives for glory. "Sheol Argos!"

A girl breaks away from the crowd and everyone gasps. The girl has bright blue hair, but that's the least of it. Her mouth has been sewn shut, why, I couldn't say. She walks with a disturbing gait, like she's a puppet moving against her strings. Every movement she makes is disjointed and causes her body to tremble. Why?

"What a freak," Kaye mutters from near me. "I hope she dies first."

The puppet-girl finally reaches Karis and stops. Both her and Dylan watch the puppet-girl with some apprehensive but Karis finally finds her voice. "Umm. Are you Sheol Argos?"

The girl nods slowly.

"Oh. Okay. Well, uh, Sheol, please just sit there and...wait for the rest of the Reaping the finish, okay?" Karis mutters something under her breath and then plasters a pleasant smile back on her face. "District 4! Let's hear it for your new tributes!"

The applause comes, but maybe not as loud as one would expect. "Almost time to see which two of us gets in!" Zia grins as Karis takes out an envelope and begins to talk about it.

"It'll probably be Swatty and Ryan again..." Percy sounds depressed and Zia shoots a nasty look at her brother.

"No way. Those two losers already had their second chance. It's time for someone else to get it!"

"You killed yourself the first time," Kaye mutters just as Karis opens the envelope. We all fall silent immediately, conscious of all the eyes of District 4 watching us. Then the note is read.

"Ryan Marine and Mizu Fall!"

My name. My name is read. I should feel honoured that the Capitol likes me so much that they voted me in for my third Games, which should be some kind of record, but I can't help feel like that something awful is in store for me. And I don't think I can be faulted for that, my last two Games did end with my death, after all.

The chains around my wrists and ankles snap off, dropping to the floor. Mizu, a girl I don't know, scrambles out of the box and I follow, avoiding the reaching grasp of Kaye, who is calling me an assortment of unpleasant names. "Congratulations!" Karis smiles fondly at us as we travel down the open lane through the crowd. "You two deserved it!"

I don't know how you qualify who "deserved it", but I guess I did perform well enough in the Games. When I reach the stage, I shake Karis' hand and am then instructed to shake my fellow tributes hands. I do so without questioning it...audibly. I silently wish I didn't have to touch the creepy puppets hand.

Fortunately though, nothing awful happens. Her hand feels a bit clammy, but I don't spontaneous combust or anything. I shake with Dylan next, but when I go for Mizu I see that she has her eyes clenched shut and she's muttering to herself. I decide to skip the handshake.

"And now...we depose of the... unwanted tributes..." Karis sounds uncomfortable as she points towards the box I was freed from. I see the others watching me with envious eyes and then the floor beneath them gives away, just like last time.

But unlike last time, there's no hole under them.

They splash into the water, confused and angry. I hear the crowd murmuring amongst themselves and then someone screams as they notice the dorsal fins heading straight for the deposited tributes.

Sharks.

Percy is the first one to get attacked, screaming as a shark bites into his leg. And then the others notice. But it's too late. My stomach feels slightly nauseous as the sharks dine on my fellow tributes. I realize that it could have been me, as I listen to their pained pleas for help. I was voted in over them. I am part of the reason they died. It's not a pleasant thought.

The crowd doesn't like it either, and I feel that the Capitol messed up royally on this one. Sharks are feared by most of the seafaring District 4, and having a score of bloodthirsty mutts tear a dozen kids apart right in the largest harbour, is just going to anger and disgust people.

"This is horrible!" Dylan has gone pale.

Mizu raises her head and opens her eyes for the first time since being selected. She stares out at the carnage in the ocean without any sign of fear or anger. Then she speaks, her voice low and monotonous. "No. This is life..."

District Five: Seth Rollins
Today is the beginning of my rise to fame and power. Today, I will show the world that I'm not to be overlooked, that I'm not just someone hidden in the shadows of my friends. I will show that I am the strongest, that I am the smartest, and that I am the future of Panem.

I will win the Hunger Games.

The biggest Games that ever existed, containing the most lethal and deadly tributes that ever walked this planet. Of course, none of them can hold a candle to me, but no one knows that yet. But they will soon. Oh, they will.

I dress myself in my finest clothes, and double check myself in the mirror to make sure that I am presentable. This will be the first time that most of Panem will see me, and I want to make a good impression.

I won't be shown up this time I think as I stare into the mirror. ''Not like before. There's no Dean or Leati to take all the glory''. Dean and Leati. My friends. My brothers, so to speak. I met them shortly after I joined the CDFC, a fighting club that operates throughout the Districts. It isn't banned, because the fights aren't real. They're all scripted and everything is planned. Which is great. When you're the one getting the push.

Despite my best efforts and skill, I was never given the opportunity I needed and deserved. So I transferred to the District 14 club, where I met Dean and Leati. The three of us got along fine, and I had this brilliant idea to form a group between the three of us. I suppose you could say that I was the architect of this group we began to call The Shield. You'd be right.

We got the push and glory we sought, all right. We got everything we wanted and more. But...it was always Dean and Leati who got the credit. Always them. But why? I was the one who put the group together! I was the one who made them! Without me they'd still be tiny, insignificant specks just throwing their talent away. But those stupid fans just couldn't see it. No one could.

Until recently...

One day, after a huge CDFC event in the Capitol, I was approached by a man, one with a lot of power, who offered me the chance of a lifetime. "You have talent, but you can't waste it on this!" The man told me with a shake of his head. "Your talent lies in the real deal, the Hunger Games!." he told me that I'd have to volunteer for the 400th Games, that I'd need to win and outlast the other ninety-one tributes. Naturally, I was caught off guard, I knew what it meant to lose in the Hunger Games and I didn't want to risk it. But then after many proven points, I complied.

You see, it's the best thing for me. The greatest gift I could ever receive. Everyone watching me fight and compete. If I win, I win something much greater than anything else. Authority, getting what I wants, fame, money. I would make the CDFC a HUGE business, bigger than the Hunger Gamea, I would not only be the future of the CDFC, but all of Panem.

Now I just need to win. At whatever cost necessary.

The televisions that line the road are buzzing with ads and commercials for strange Capital inventions as I near the factory clearing where the Reaping will take place. I try not to pay much attention to them, but one for a company named Life Modifier catches my attention. Apparently they're offering a type of surgery that would double your life span, make it like all of the year's you've spent living didn't ever happen. Heh. So if I took the surgery, I'd get the eighteen years I've lived back, but I'd still retain all of my memories and everything. That'd be pretty sweet. A few people standing around me take note of the commercial as well, but they're not nearly as positive.

"Heard just about everyone in the Capitol is getting it," A man says with an air of envy.

"Doesn't surprise me," A woman responds. "They're all stupid."

"You wouldn't get it?" I can't help but insert myself into the conversation. They both look at me in surprise but I disarm them with a smile and say that I'm just too curious for my own good. Hehe. They buy my lie just like everyone else does

"No, of course not!" The woman purses her lips before continuing, as if she's worried we'd be overheard. "I...don't know if I should be saying this, but..."

"But what?" I ask innocently, keeping up my charade.

"I've heard from...some friends that this Life Modifier company may just be some undercover Capitol front!" The woman keeps her voice to a whisper, throwing pensive looks at everyone who is walking with us towards the factory. "And that there may be some sort of ulterior motive!"

Well, there goes my interest in this conversation. This woman is one of those psycho conspiracy theorist who comes up with sinister explanations for just about everything. Why the hell dies she think that the Capitol would have a secret group that was doubling everyone's life span? The very thought is absurd. But unfortunately, I am stuck in this conversation. The woman talks my ear off until we reach the gate, and I managed to disengage myself from her by getting my blood taken and ushered into line.

I push through the other kids, all of them just inferior to me. They grunt and complain but I'm much bigger and stronger than them so that's all they do. The crowd is large though, and by the time I push to the front of the stage, passing by the box filled with All-Stars on my way, Maxwell Ibrahim has already started the shebang. "Hello District 5!" He says as I wipe my shirt clean. "As per usual, I will be selecting two slips from these bowls and two names will be written on these slips. The two names I call will be the two chosen tributes for the 400th Annual Hunger Games!"

A hand dips into the bowl and I open my mouth to shout when I realize that he's picking for the girls. Somehow, I manage to transform my shout into an abnormally loud sneeze. A few people turn to stare at me, but most are fixated on the girl who is moving through the crowd. She's a slight blonde girl with a very timid persona, and I think that she's just another weakling when someone next to me whispers that she volunteered.

"She did?" I ask in confusion.

"Yeah! You just missed it with your gargantuan sneeze!"

I rap the kid on the back of the head with my knuckles, and as he complains I turn to the stage. Maxwell is asking the girl for her name, but she seems hesitant to give it. He continues to press, saying it's mandatory. Finally, she relents. "Ashley Curtis..." She mutters into the microphone.

Laughs erupt from the crowd, and a few kids even point and jeer. I don't know what I'm missing, but I join in with the laughter to appear like I'm in the loop. Besides, not laughing would make it appear like I was on that little snot's side, and I am definitely not on her side.

"Oops!" Maxwell looks genuinely upset at all the laughter and jeering that's going on. "I didn't mean to get you publicly humiliated!" That just makes the laughter louder and Ashley's face turns a bright red. At least you're getting attention! I think to myself. ''I had to fight for everything! Even mockery and ridicule!''

"Let's...just move in, shall we?" Maxwell tries to stem the laughter and quickly races for the next bowl. I almost miss my cue, as he's about to read the note when I spring up and shout.

"I volunteer!"

The final bits of laughter end as I stroll onto the stage, looking every bit impressive as I feel. Maxwell shakes my hand, just relieved that he has a tribute that's not being laughed off the stage. "What's your name, you extraordinary gentlemen, you?"

"I am Seth Rollins, the future of Panem!"

I'm smiling at the crowd, my hands held high, when I hear more laughter. People in the crowd begin to snicker, the loudest being the ones that I pushed pass. That really grinds my gears and it takes all of my best effort not to snap and yell at them. But I know that doing so would only make things worse. They'll see how great I am. They'll all see.

Maxwell ushers me back as he moves on to the next part of the Reaping. That's when I catch Ashley quietly smiling. "What's your problem, twirp?" I snap at her, confident that no one else is watching me.

"You're egotistical," She says calmly. "Despite all their other faults, I'm glad they all saw that."

I don't like this. I don't like being spoken to by a small, stupid girl like she's better than I am. "At least everyone didn't laugh at me!" I sneer at her, enjoying the pain that flickers across her face. "I'll be aligned with the Careers. Where will you be? Who'd want to ally with a freak like you?"

I turn away with a smirk. I think I saw tears in her eyes. Tears! Pah! She won't last long! Maxwell has pulled out an envelope. He reads it. "Johnathan Mikeal and Trick Treat!"

That psycho? Why'd the Capitol put her back in? The crowd's not happy, and they let it be known with their boos. Not only are they against Trick returning, but they don't like seeing Johnathan come back either. That lame wad only exists to serve others, and practically got himself killed in his first Games just to help someone out. Not to mention that in his interview he admitted he had no desire to win as long as a kind-hearted person was still alive with him. He's just going to get himself killed. Again.

"Good to have you two back!" Maxwell grins at the two tributes and while Johnathan shakes his hand, Trick hisses at him. "Um. Point taken." Maxwell blanches away from her, and goes back to the microphone. The four of us line up behind him and I catch Johnathan throwing nasty looks my way several times. What's his problem?

I don't get to ask, as several gun shots ring out across the square. The Peacekeepers have begun to fire into the box with the rejected tributes, killing them with a hail of bullets. The crowd begins to protest, but the words die on their lips when some of the Peacekeepers aim their guns toward them.

"Despicable!" Johnathan is shaking his massive head, his eyes both sad and angry. "Absolutely despicable!" Ashley murmurs an agreement, Trick watches the carnage with wide eyes, occasionally making small excited sounds, and I simply remain silent.

That could be me. If I lose this game, I could wind up dead like that. But, no. I won't allow That to happen. I won't let myself lose. I have too much riding on this, I have too much to look forward to. I need to win.

At whatever cost necessary.

District Six: Kennedy Marks
''It feels like an an eternity is as I stand here, listening to Calpurnia Joffree drone on and on about the same thing as always. Eventually, a hand dips into the bowl. Some girl about the age of twelve is called to the stage, and even though I feel guilty about it, she I sigh a breath of relief. My eyes bounce over to Jamieson, and he gives me a reassuring look that calms me down. His face tells me everything will be alright, and believing him, I take in a deep breath. Calpurnia has made her way over to the boys bowl. Her fingers whip in, and rip out a name from the bowl. She calls those two words that I would never be able to remove from my mind. ''

"Jamieson Bay!"

''As he makes his way to the stage, holding a strong, unafraid face, the tears began to stream down my face. As Calpurnia raised their hands together, I looked into Jamieson's deep green eyes, and the tears began to flood down both of our faces.''

The memory drifts away, fading. The people beside me continue to move in an organized line towards the small table set up in front of the train station. The Justice Building looms overhead, and I remember once more.

''As soon as the Peacekeepers allow visitors in, I made sure I was second, only after Jamieson's mother, father, and little sister. I burst through the doors, and Jamieson pulls me into his arms, and for the first few minutes, we just cried in each other's arms, as if nothing else mattered. I finally find the words to break the silence.''

''"You can win Jamieson." I started as I pulled away. "You are fairly strong. Just pay attention in training. You can come home."''

''"Kennedy, you know I want that as bad as you do. I'm sure I could pick up a few things, but how will I ever find the courage to kill another tribute." Jamieson speaks with a sad, defeated tone.''

''"Just try. I love you. I love you so much Jamieson." I have to choke out the last few words, as the Peacekepers come in, taking her away.''

''"Jamieson! Please! Just come back home to me!" I scream the words through the doors as they shut in my face.''

"Next!"

The line shuffles forward as the Peacekeepers call for us. One by one we continue to head forward. Slowly always so slowly. Jamieson is still in my mind, still haunting me as I head for exact place I stood three years ago. That day was terrible, but it didn't get any better.

''It's the night of the Chariot rides, I've locked myself in my room, and am watching as Jamieson and the little girl, Baileigh, ride down the track. I could almost swear I see Jamieson making eye contact with the camera, looking right at Kennedy. I paused it, and took in a moment to look into his eyes again, getting lost.''

''The Games prepared to announce the scores, I turn on the TV, remote in hand, waiting to see Jamieson's score pop onto the screen. The announcer calls out Baileigh's first, a 5, and then stopped for a moment.''

''"Oh, looky here folks. We have an interesting one here. It looks as if Jamieson has received a..." The announcer took a pause, and Jamieson's picture popped up, getting ready to display the score.''

''"He has been scored a 9! We may just have a fighter here folks." Kennedy once again paused the screen, crying. But for once, it was out of joy. Jamieson might just be able to come home.''

Why? Why do I have to keep thinking back on those moments? Moments that had filled me with so much hope, hope that would ultimately be dashed live waves upon the rocks. "Next!" The line keeps moving forward. Only a few people are still in front of me. Soon it'll be my turn...

''It's the day of the interviews. After seemingly endless hours, the TV flickered the Capitol seal, and the host was shown, sitting in his chair, with an empty one next to him. The other interviews seemed to go by so fast, and finally it was Jamieson's turn. Him and the host banter back and forth, and then finally, the host asks a serious question.''

''"What would it mean to win Jamieson?" The host has a deep, serious tone. Jamieson looks directly at the audience as he speaks. "It would mean love. And before you ask what I mean, let me tell you. You see, everyone wants to survive the Games. Yes survive. Lets be real. No one wins. And to me, surviving would mean I would get to go home. I would get to see Kennedy, my girlfriend again. I would get to spend the rest of my life with her in a mansion. I would get to hold her in my arms forever. I would get to hold her close forever, never letting her slip away. I don't care for the money, nor the fans, or anything else. She is all I want."''

''The entire audience was in tears, as am I as I listen to him. I watched as he only let a single tear slip, and then the host thanked him, and that was it.''

"Next!"

I step up to the table with a shuddering breath. I'm now in the same exact position I was the year Jamieson was Reaped. And now it will me my turn. My turn the go in the Games and die a horrible death. I can just feel it, feel my fate as the Peacekeeper pricks my finger and sends my on my way. I'll die as he did.

''I see Jamieson as he was rising from the ground into the arena. The tributes were in a snow covered forest. Time seemed to itch by, slowly. Jamieson was gone as soon as the gong sounded. I don't see him for days, the cameras seem to be allergic to him. Eventually, it reaches the final eight. ''

''I'm interviewed, and spend the day recalling how we met, talking about Jamieson and how kind, loving, charming, funny, and just perfect he was. After the interviewer thanks me, and I had returned to my bedroom, the water works start again.''

''Three days later, as the Games reach the final 4, Jamieson was finally on the screen. He was shown making a fire, and the scene was bouncing back and fourth between him and the three Careers hunting him. I know what was coming, but refuse to accept it. In less than an hour, they had found Jamieson, and I watch as Jamieson ran. They followed. Jamieson tripped. Tears rolled as I closed my eyes, refusing to watch. I hear the cannon sound and let out a screaming sob. I blink my eyes open for a moment, to see Jamieson laying there. His green eyes met mine one last time before glazing over. Jamieson was gone.''

I shut the TV off, before reducing to a crying mess.

When Calpurnia Joffree takes the stage, I note that my eyes are swimming with tears. Jamieson is gone. Gone for good. It happened years ago, but it feels like it just happened now. My eyes bounce around the crowd, searching for his familiar reassuring face. But I don't find it, became he's gone.

My eyes finally settle on the large box set up in the middle of the station. It only just hits me that Jamieson could have been in there, could have had a chance to be revived, if only the Capitol had included his Games. Why didn't they? They chose the last two year's Games. Why couldn't they have picked the 397th too? Were they not exciting enough? Did it not have enough bloodshed? Why?

I find myself hating the kids in the box, and even though I know it isn't their fault, I still hate them. Hate them for taking the spot that Jamieson could have had.

"Are you all ready to find out who are new female is for this year?" Calpurnia is asking the crowd, dressed in a horrendous snake dress. A few half-hearted cheers greet her words, but I only stare at her with sorrow. The District 6 Victors are standing on the stage behind her, two less than last year. Marceline Strauss and Buck Rockwell both succumbed to a virus while they were in the Capitol mentoring. I'm not sad Rockwell is gone. He won the Games the year after Jamieson died, and I could never stop wondering how different things would have been if him and Jamieson had swapped Games.

"Well, let's find out!" Calpurnia's fingers whip into the bowl just like when she drew Jamieson's name. She holds the slip up before reading it, but I already know what it says. I just know. "And our female tribute is...Kennedy Marks!"

I feel empty as I make way through the crowd. A few people recognize me as Jamieson's girlfriend and begin to whisper amongst themselves. I ignore them as I ascend the stairs, tears in my eyes.

"What a wonderful young woman!" Calpurnia says when I reach her. I pray that she doesn't mention Jamieson. I don't think I could hold myself together if she did. "I just know you'll do well!"

She brushes me aside as she goes for the next bowl. Just like that. I'm going into a competition where I'm going to die for entertainment, and all I get is a casual "I just know you'll do well!"? I'd be downright furious if I wasn't choking on my tears.

"Stario Lucaren!"

Calpurnia had wasted no time on drawing the next name. I'm just glad it's not someone I know. Instead, it's a small thirteen year-old boy. He seems to be in shock and keeps tripping over his own sneakers as he climbs the stage. I just close my eyes as I realize the parallels between him and Baileigh, Jamieson's District partner.

The crowd has adopted an uncomfortable silence, but Calpurnia doesn't seem to expect anything from them as she asks for no cheers or applause. She just swiftly moves to the voted on tributes. "Blade Spectrus and Amore Madness!"

Another member of the legendary Spectrus family. His arrival breaks some of the crowd out of their stupor as they applaud him. The girl just seems happy to be alive, touching her body and giggling. "There was a huge gash here!" She's saying as Calpurnia greets her. "And blood was everywhere! It must have looked sooo red!"

Blade stands stoically beside the rest of us as Calpurnia says our names one last time. We're meant to look dashing, but none of us (except, maybe, Blade) remotely resemble that. Stario and I are a crying mess, and Amore is a giggling fool. I know there's two more District 6 tributes, the Duel winners, but I don't know who they are, for I didn't watch their battle.

"Maybe we have a Victor among this bunch!" Calpurnia screeches.

"Oh, Jamieson...I'll win...for you."

District Seven: Axel Alex
I hear the murmurs of people as they pass by, hear the sound of their feet landing on the green grass, and the crunch of branches that are stepped on by the clumsy. It must be that day again.

Reaping day.

I sigh and lean back against the tree I'm hidden behind. The assortment of people continue along the path through the woods, oblivious to the fact that this place is my home. People. I hate people trampling all over my home, making a ruckus and ruining my peace and quiet. Why do they always have to have the Reaping in the woods? Why ruin it with their stupid Games? Can't they just be happy with their stinking city?

No, of course not. The Capitol just loves to ruin everything.

I take one last look at the inner part of the forest, note the lack of animals due to the trampling people, and then pull a hood over my head and step out onto the path.

No one looks at me twice as I join the mass of people heading down the small forest path. I'm just another person in the crowd, another mindless drone. I just play along and follow the people deeper into the forest, getting increasingly uncomfortable.

The voices...they're...strange. I've spent the last six years living in the forest, never having a conversation with another human. Because my job is a lonesome thing, the only time I've ever really heard another person is during Reaping Day, where I come out to rejoin the masses. It's mostly because I don't want to be Reaped and not be present. That would start a District wide man hunt for me, and while that wouldn't be new, it's not something I particularly want happening. But that's not the only reason I show up. It's also because...it makes me feel normal. I almost feel like nothing has changed, that everyone I've ever cared about didn't die and leave me by myself.

That was back in District 5, when I still lived with my parents and my uncle Shawn, who was only eight years older than me. Thinking of my parents always makes me feel...conflicted. They were good people and great parents, the best I could hope for. But they were also involved in the drug trade. They were smugglers who'd take the paraphernalia into the other District's and disperse it. On that account, I guess you could say they weren't very good people. But they loved me, and I loved them. That had to count for something.

I realize I'm approaching the stage when Peacekeepers begin appearing on the side of the path, ushering people into their proper lines. I go out of my way to avoid these them. I have too many bad memories to even look at them for longer than a few seconds.

Like when my parents drug operation was found out, and Peacekeepers came to our house. My dad ordered uncle Shawn to take me out of their and he did. While we ran I looked back and saw the Peacekeepers kill my parents by shooting them in the head. The really terrible thing was, that most people would probably think that they deserved it. Sometimes I don't know if I can really argue against it.

Shawn certainly did though, for he felt what he and my parents were doing was fine. He even helped them in it, was a huge part of the operation, actually. He took me to District 7, where we moved in with a loving couple after he told them some lie about how our parents died in a car accident. Thinking back, that was a terrible lie. Barely anyone in District 7 has a car and you'd think these people would notice if there had been an accident recently. Nevertheless, they bought Shawn's story and we lived with them for a full year. Their names were Kristen and Kyle.

They're dead now.

"Get in line!"

The butt of a Peacekeepers gun rams me in the shoulder and I bite back a very hostile retort, as I do as he says. I wait as a few other kids get their blood taken and then another Peacekeeper forcefully grabs my arm and pricks my finger. "Get moving!" He says as he shoves me into the clearing.

Huge oak trees span the edges, casting the stage in deep shadows. The fresh smell of pine is contaminated by the reek of the crowd, and I once again wish they held the Reaping elsewhere. The crowd continues to file in, and I further reminiscence about Shawn. After a year of living with Kristen and Kyle, they eventually learned who we were and how the Capitol was searching for us. They had even issued a decree that anyone who was assisting or harboring us would pay with their lives. It was no surprise when they told us to get our of there right away. But what was a surprise, is how Shawn reacted.

He went into a rage and slew them both, right there and then. I walked onto the scene without knowing what was going on, and...I saw two kind, good-hearted people dead at the feet of my drug smuggling uncle. I left. I ran from the house, crying and weeping. Apparently, Kristen and Kyle had already called the Peacekeepers, for they arrived just after I left. I watched as they apprehended Shawn...and as they executed him.

"He deserved it!" Many people would say, but he was my only remaining family member. And even if he was a drug dealing psychopath, I still cared for him. That just made everything worse. I didn't learn until years after living in the woods that it's better not to get attached to people. That way you don't have to feel sad when they inevitably die.

"Hello District 7!" Wan Dirx, our resident escort, strolls onto the stage dressed in his usual mummy outfit. He did make a minor modification this year though; the bandages are black and orange. "Are you ready for the Reaping?" People react. I don't know in which way. I'm too preoccupied watching the large glass box that's in the clearing. Funny how I didn't notice it before. I watch the tributes locked inside with mild curiosity. I recognize a few, like the stuck-up girl from two years ago and the pair from last year. Arbor something and Henry Polyester. I took note of him because he reminded me of how young and innocent I as when Shawn and I fled for our lives. I wanted him to win.

Instead he was burnt to a crisp.

"I don't think we should hold this thing up any longer!" Wan drones as he digs a hand into the first bowl. It's the same thing every year. Someone gets Reaped. They walk on stage. People react. Boring. Sometimes you get a runner though, like two years ago when Nick Maclachlan attempted to flee for his life. I see him now, as he desperately pulls against his chains in an effort to escape. He's not going anywhere.

"Amber Texno!"

A very off-District name is the one that Wan draws. The crowd murmurs to itself as it waits for the owner to appear, but they never do. A girl with hair multiple shades of purple steps forward, shouting about how she volunteers. Wan is happy, clapping and cheering the girl on as she goes for the stage.

I look to the large ultra-definition screen to see a better look of this volunteer. She's short, with pale skin, and a nose that I find to be a bit too large. I wouldn't have pegged her for someone that'd volunteer for a friend, as she claims.

"You didn't want Amber to get the glory, did you?" Wan asks the girl, who seems rather taken back. When she doesn't answer, he asks for her name.

"Amethystia Thall," She replies.

"Man, that's a mouthful! You don't mind if I call you Methy, do you?" A brief pause. "No! Of course you don't! Now let's see Methy's District partner!" Ignoring the girl's protests, he shambles over to the next bowl and plucks out a name.

"Axel Alex!"

I'm taken completely by surprise. Never had I expected my name to be drawn from the bowl, never did I stop to think this was a possibility. I realise I'm biting a hole into my cheek as I stand in the crowd, hoping that some guy named Alex Axel steps up and thinks that it was his name that was called.

No such luck.

When Wan repeats the name and Peacekeepers begin to drift through the crowd, I know that I have no choice. I head for the stage, ignoring the murmurs from the crowd. Wan gives me a slap on the shoulder when I reach him. "What took you so long?" He asks good-naturedly.

I want to give a witty reply, but my mind comes up blank. So, I just stand there with my mouth hanging open, looking absolutely stupid. Wan just waves me off with his hand and I step back beside Amethystia, regretting everything. My mind is still numb, even more than my body. I can't process Thu New revelation, which isn't really all that bad compared to some things I've been through. I've already seen death, the only difference is that this time it will be my own.

"Shade Spectrus and Arbor Alpine!"

More names.

The girl from last year and some other guy are released from the box and allowed on stage. I think that the boy is from a legendary family or something. I don't really know, I don't pay attention to things like that. But I do pay attention when one of District 7's Victors, an old man who has to walk with the support of a cane and has a pretty epic moustache, hobbles forward and hugs the boy. "It's so good to see you back, sonny!" The man wheezes happily.

Shade mumbles an agreement and then pulls back to look at the man. "Man! You've gotten so old, Mist!"

"Just you wait! One day you'll wind up like this, you whippersnapper!"

"Why are you talking like that?" Shade sounds horrified.

"Oh. No reason!" The geezer drops his old man shtick and laughs. "I just think it's funny. It'd be boring if I was just an old man who spoke normal, wouldn't it?"

A pause. Then Shade laughs and the two begin talking about "old times", laughing and crying. I try to compare myself to the others. I'm bigger than the girls by far, stronger and probably smarter as well. I don't know about Shade, but I think that I'd be able to take him in a one-on-one fight.

I'm worried about my possibilities of survival, but I do think that I have a chance. I've survived difficult things before. Why not the Hunger Games?

District Eight: Banette Tsukomogami
"This is pretty slagging annoying, don't you think?"

A boy speaks as we sit inside our box, our prison. The crowd around us doesn't look at us, they're too afraid. Or maybe they feel guilty. After all, it's their own inaction that allows these Games to continue. Six more kids from this District will die, and it'll be all their fault.

No one answers the kid, and he scoffs in disgust. "You're all pathetic, you know that?" He sneers his words, his dappled crimson hair a mess on his head. "Pathetic weaklings. None of you deserve life. You all got what was coming to you."

"If I remember correctly, you were killed by a so-called "pathetic weakling". Weren't you, Rufus?" A snobby looking girl with reddish-brown hair snaps at him. Immediately his sapphire eyes darken. He doesn't like to be laughed at.

"No. No, I was not killed by a weakling. I was killed by that moron Austin when I had my back turned. But, I did kill you, dear Cashmere. Remember when my knife dug into the soft flesh of your throat? I do. Ahh...Good times."

That quiets her, much to Rufus' chagrin. It seems that he was hoping to spark a retort, but when none comes, he sighs and looks out the box. The stupid propaganda video is still playing on the screens outside, and the crowds waiting diligently for it to end. I have no desire to watch that garbage and instead focus on the others trapped in here with me.

My district partner, Aisha Hakeem, is sitting across from me. Ever since she got in here, she's been fawning over Colin Bisset, a kid from the Games after mine. Apparently they were boyfriend and girlfriend or something. Right now they're just leaning as far forward as their chains will allow, resting their heads against one another and whispering lovey-dovey crap. It annoys me, but when I look away I just get annoyed further.

Cashmere is gazing at Dome Citadel with wide doe eyes, like she loves him or somethin'. He's just trying his best to ignore her, gazing up at the sky and repeating the name "Willow" over and over.

Is there anyone here who isn't lovesick?

Other than Rufus, of course. But, I hate that bastard anyways. He reminds me of those kids who'd continually insult and harass me back at the orphanage. So I don't like him. The girl across from him, is...well, I don't know her name. She's barely a character, more of a cardboard standee. And then there's Kim. I suppose Kim is okay, I mean, she's not bothering me in anyway. She's just sitting there, humming to herself. Yeah. I think I like her the most out of everyone here.

I sigh and drop my head against the glass wall of the box. I wish Shuppet was here. He...he was the only one I'd ever really gotten long with. Though, I suppose Johnathan was a good guy as well. A bit thick-headed about his justice, but a good guy all the same. They better get voted in. Especially Shuppet.

I recall how I was lying on the cold cement, slowly transforming into a zombie due to the amount of bites I suffered. "Kill me. I...don't want to turn into...one of those things...Please. Let me die as me!" I begged Shuppet to end my life. I saw the tears in his eyes as he knew what he must do.

"Half as bright," He said slowly.

I replied with a smile. "Twice as long."

A tear slides down my cheek, and I brush it away with a finger. That was the end of me. I died. I wasn't supposed to come back, I wasn't supposed to be here. It wasn't their place to bring me back.

"District Eight, are you ready?" Escrow Bestow, the deranged red velvet skinned man of an escort overloads his mic with a scream. "We are about to find out who the tributes of the 400th Annual Hunger Games are!"

"Oh joy. What a wonderful surprise!" Rufus drawls sarcastically as the man hops about giddily to the first bowl. He puts a hand in and the crowd all begin to collectively hope that it isn't their name that's drawn.

"Jet Flack!"

"Get ready to die, Jet!" Rufus shouts from the box, and then begins laugh maniacally. Jet, a tall, skinny, fifteen year-old with black hair, doesn't even look our way as he joins Escrow on the stage. I don't blame him.

"What a wonderful boy!" Escrow smiles and pats the lanky teen on his head. "I'm sure you won't die in the bloodbath. In fact, I think you may even last a few days!" Beside me, Dome grunts in annoyance as Rufus howls with laughter. "But now let's see our female tribute!"

A hand goes into the bowl. Escrow pulls out a slip and stares at it in shock. Why? What is on that piece of paper that surprise him so? I find out when he reads. "Camiren Paisley-Idylwyld!"

The crowd erupts into whispers, a few people gasp in shock. The name "Idlywyld" is repeated by just about everyone. I don't bloody understand. "What the hell is so special about this girl?" I wonder aloud as a girl with red-streaked white hair slowly begins to walk towards the stage. Surprisingly, it's Kim who answers.

"She's an Idlywyld. They're one of the most powerful families in all of Panem, alongside the Valii, Trevelyan's, and the Stryker's...Some say the Idlywyld's are the ones who really call all the shots..."

"Oh? Is that so? Maybe I should have a talk with this Camiren then. And by "talk" I mean "stab her in the face". Wonder how this powerful family would feel if their precious daughter was killed by a street urchin like me..."

"You'd probably be signing your own death warrant if you did that," Aisha speaks up from where she and Colin are trying to hold hands.

I scoff. "What? You think that stupid family would rig the Games for her?"

"If they're as powerful as Kim says...then yes."

Hatred has begun to build up in me, hatred for these people who think they can just do whatever they want. A few others seem to have the same anger as I do, and Colin points something out. "That girl won't survive long. Just about every tribute from the outlying District's will be gunning for her. Possibly the Careers as well. She's as good as dead the moment that gong rings."

We all fall silent as the girl finally reaches the stage. She stares deep into the crowd, at something that I can't see, and then speaks into Escrow's mic. "I'm Camiren Paisley. Idylwyld by blood, but a rebel by heart. And mom and dad, if you're still alive and listening to this, get the homecoming ready."

"She's trying to persuade them to get it rigged for her!" Rufus unleashes a stream of colorful language as he stares at the girl with a murderous glint in her sapphire eyes.

"I don't think that's what she meant..." Kim murmurs quietly, but I'm the only one who hears her over the buzzing of the now very excited crowd. They usually detest the Games, but this year they have a win-win situation. If Camiren wins, they get all the money and food that comes with having a Victor. If she loses, someone they hate dies.

Escrow allows the crowd a moment to control themselves before moving on to the envelope in his hands. Suddenly, we're all paying rapt attention to the stage. "And the two District 8 tributes, voted on by the Capitol to compete in the Games once more, are...Aisha Hakeem and Banette Tsukomogami!"

"No!"

Aisha let's out an ear-piercing scream as our chains come undone. I quickly make for the exit as she throws herself onto Colin, attempting to free him from his prison. "No! No! We can't be separated! Not after we were just reunited!" She kicks and screams as the Peacekeepers rush in to rip her off of Colin. I see him whisper something into her ear and the she lets go, allowing herself to be dragged to the stage.

The crowd is visibly uncomfortable as the two of us are presented to them. Aisha has quieted down, but still has tears in her eyes and let's out the occasional sob. I pull my bandanna further over my face...just in case something pokes me in the eye.

Then something happens.

Something brutal and in-your-face.

The Head Peacekeeper, a man standing on the stage with us, nods at the others surrounding the glass box. And then they open fire.

Aisha goes hysterical, kicking and screaming like a banshee as she attempts to get to her love. I watch emotionless as Kim goes down in a hail of bullets, as Rufus has his head blown off. Dome goes down quickly, rounds sprayed through his chest. Colin looks defiant right to the very end. But the Peacekeepers get him too, and, when he's just a bullet riddled corpse on the ground, he doesn't look so very defiant.

"You killed your own son! You killed your own son!" Aisha is howling at the Head Peacekeeper, spittle flying off her like a mad woman. "You're a monster! A monster who deserves to die--"

A gag is forced into her mouth and she goes silent but continues to struggle mightily. Pointless. It's all pointless. Their desire to show power, Aisha's attempt to thwart them. It doesn't matter, in the end. But...

I'm forced to think about a friend of mine, a guy trapped in his own box. Did he make it in? Or...or was he shot to death, like Colin and the others?

If it was the latter...someone is going to have hell to pay.

District Nine: Amira Blodwen
"Come on children. Line up, line up!"

A bored woman with blonde, pixie cut hair waves us on with her left hand as she stares at the document she holds with her right. She doesn't bother to even watch as us orphans, about two dozen in all, form a very disorganized line before her. I'm at the end of the line, lost in my own thoughts, and spinning a small silver locket around my neck. It's shaped like a heart, and has nothing inside save for a small lock of my own hair. It's my only token of my parents, my parents who I've never met.

"Are you all lined up?" Riri, the disinterested blonde woman who oversees the orphanage, looks up from her document to gaze at our line. It only lasts a few seconds, and there's no way she saw us all, but she nods approvingly and heads out the door anyways. "Follow me. We have places to be, you know."

We all follow her out the door and into the sunny day. Fields of grain speck the horizon, a stark reminder that there's nothing interesting in all of District 9. Outside the city, there's golden fields of grain and empty plains. Inside, there's bland, gray buildings that all look like boxes and extruded noxious smoke into the air. The orphanage is located outside of the city, in a old farmhouse that sits in the middle of an empty field, so I see the grain and grass more than the gray and gas.

"Keep up!" Riri calls to us without ever looking back to see if we've actually fallen behind. She doesn't really pay any attention to us orphans, not that anyone does. Even in school we are always getting blanked out by others, though not even intentionally. I've been on the receiving end of this more than the others, because, while I'm not the oldest orphan here, I have been here longer than everyone else. I've been here my whole life, with no clue as to who or what my parents were beyond the locket around my neck. I've been isolated for a long time. Not that I mind. I prefer to be alone with my thoughts, it's...peaceful there.

Riri leads us onto the main path now and we begin to pass by other people and their neighbouring houses and barns. Few stop to look at us. We're just orphans, nothing more. Soon, families begin to populate the roads. Their faces are taut with fear and worry. They could lose a family member to the Reaping, they could lose a friend. It makes me remember the times I wished someone would adopt me. I longed for a family, a real family that would take care of me. But I was never adopted. Hardly anyone is. District 9 is dirt poor, the poorest District by far. Who could possibly afford to feed another mouth? I doubt anyone other than Mayor Price could, and, well, he has his own family issues.

I've given up hope of being adopted now. Instead, I dream about finding my parents, discovering who they are or what they did. Why was I given to the orphanage fourteen years ago? What happened to my parents? Sometimes I imagine that I'm really a Princess of a mysterious kingdom and that some King and Queen is out there desperately searching for their long-lost daughter.

It's a stupid thought, one that I'm ashamed of having sometimes. But if you can't dream, then what are you? A person is defined by their dreams, moulded by them. Dreams are what make people special. Without them...you're nothing.

Our procession, led by Riri, reaches the outskirts of the inner-city and I'm reminded of why I'm grateful for the orphanage. The building's are broken down and desecrated, debris from them just lying in the street. People in rags scavenge through the gutters, desperately searching for food. Some don't even do that. They just lie in a ball, not even bothering to go to the Reaping. They'll be killed for it, but what does it matter? They don't have anything left. Not even their dreams.

I'm terrified that, one day, the entire District will look like this.

"Don't make eye contact with any deranged hobo, children!" Riri says as we pass through a particularly rough street. One man, lying pitifully on the street with nothing other than ripped jeans, moans and reaches for us. I feel bad at the sight of his exposed ribs. In the orphanage, we always have enough to eat. The people here don't.

When we exit on the other side, I think we've been through the worse but then I see the giant, wooden effigy that some ambitious citizens have set up. It covers an entire intersection of the street, and it's head almost reaches the roof of a nearby building. "What is that?" A kid in front of me asks.

"Die Hazel! Die!"

A group of citizens throw flaming balls of trash at the effigy, and within an instant, it catches fire. They whoop and cheer as it begins to burn, and that's when I notice the other effigy's hanging from the windows, ropes tied around their necks.

Hazel Dyer. These effigies are meant to be her, our only Victor in the past seventy-three years. The people's faces are contorted with unreasonable hatred and rage as they watch her burn. I've never understood why everyone has blamed Hazel for our lack of Victors. They say it's because she cursed us, but I believe it's just because we're not strong enough. We don't have tributes that can make it far into the Games. That, and severely bad luck. Sometimes we have fighters who just die in unforeseeable ways. Like how Jac and Azalea died last year.

Riri has us skirt around the more chaotic sections of the crowd, and I note that while there's plenty of Peacekeepers around, none of them seem to be trying to stop this riotous behaviour. I guess it's just something that you have to allow. I don't agree with what they're doing, but if it makes them feel better...

The crowd is completely silent as Mayor Price walks out onto the stage, his eyes immediately darting to the large box laid out in the clearing. His son, Jac, is in there. Along with his other relative, Jake Price. I don't know how they're related, mostly because I'm not tuned to those matters, but I know he was the catalyst for our "curse". He was the one Hazel killed and betrayed on her way to become Victor. That's also the reason everyone believed Jac would end the curse. He was celebrated as a hero when he volunteered. But when he lost...

"Hello District Nine. Welcome to this year's annual Reaping. Where we shall select two tributes to die the Hunger Games, along with reviving two more for the same fate. Glory to the Capitol." Mayor Price speaks sadly, never taking his eyes off of his son locked in the box. He pauses for the crowd to repeat "Glory to the Capitol", but they don't.

I'm afraid. No one ever stays quiet, the Peacekeepers don't allow it. But the crowd keeps their stony silence, and not even those who are beyond caring bring themselves to say it. A thick tension has appeared as the Peacekeepers look between each other nervously. What will they do? Will they try to force the crowd?

No.

Their leader gives an impeccable shake of his head and then the moment is gone. Mayor Price, with a somewhat relieved look on his face, introduces Pomona Radsi, our escort. I always thought of her as stupid, but even she can see the cold anger radiating from the crowd. "Uh. H-hello everyone!" Her words are slow and careful, aware that one wrong word could have unintended consequences. "L-let's just see who will be Reaped, s-shall we?"

As she walks for the bowl, I realize something isn't right. There's no way she's this frightened just because of the crowd. But then why is she petrified? What could be so upsetting to her?

"Y-your male tribute is...Roger--"

"I volunteer!"

A lone voice rises above the crowd. Confusion crosses people's faces, but no words are said, no gasps of shock come. It's just a surprised silence. Why would anyone volunteer? Tributes in District 9 are synonymous with dead corpses. Why would anyone volunteer, unless they wanted to die?

The boy who shouted, a thin boy with auburn hair, comes out of the crowd and joins the stage. His hazel eyes are filled with sadness but also defiance. It seems strange, because the way he moves makes me think that he really had no other choice but to volunteer. But that's absurd. Who else would have made the choice? It was his alone. But I do wonder...

"Your name?" Pomona asks. She seems to have recovered slightly.

"Harvest Cropper," The boy tries to look brave, but I can tell he's nervous. It's almost as if he knows what will happen, but believes he could change his fate if he acted tough enough. Maybe he could. But then again, maybe not.

Pomona nods and takes out the next name. I nearly have a heart attack as she reads it. "Amira Blodwen!"

Voices.

I feel cold as those around me turn to gawk. They're taking notice, something they never did before. I know what's going to happen. I know what my fate will be. No one from District 9 wins the Games, and I will be no exception. I am going to die in the arena. Die along with Harvest, Plasma, and Vera. Die with whatever two tributes got voted in. We're all going to die.

I find myself wishing for my parents as I trudge through the crowd, conscious of all the eyes on me. It isn't fair. I can't die without ever learning who they were and what happened to them. I just can't. So...I'm going to have to win. I need to win. I can't allow myself to die here.

"Um. Nice to meet you," Pomona says lightly as I stop before her. The crowd is silent, and from my new vantage point atop the stage, I can see the fury in their eyes. The cold, menacing fury that threatens everyone and everything that has ever kept them down.

Suddenly I'm scared. Scared of what a crowd filled with so much hatred could do. This must be what makes Pomona so nervous. She can see their anger and desire for vengeance. She knows what could happen with just one wrong word.

"Let's...find our All-Stars," She speaks softly as she slips open a manila envelope. A small sheet of paper slides out and I know what it says before she reads it. "Jac Price and Azalea Finch!"

The crowd doesn't react as the two tributes from last year are unleashed from the cage and veered toward the stage by a pair of Peacekeepers. The two of them at holding hands and Azalea has tears in her eyes as she stares out at the crowd, looking for someone but I don't know who. "Well, welcome back into the Hunger--"

Pomona doesn't get to finish her question. The Peacekeepers who remained beside the box have begun to fire upon those inside, drowning her words with gunfire and the screams of the tributes. "Jake! Jake!" Jac tries to get to his relative, but a Peacekeeper restrains him before he gets anywhere. Despite his struggle, they hold him still until the gunfire ceases and the smoke clears.

Nothing moves in the box.

Silence from the crowd. Then...

"Now!"

A lone scream blares from the crowd, and a bullet suddenly comes flying. It takes a Peacekeeper in the throat, and he falls to his knees, gurgling on his own bubbling blood. Oh no...it's happened. The crowd has snapped!

All throughout the crowd, people begin to take up arms. Some have guns, firing upon the Peacekeepers and screaming hysterically as they do. But most have makeshift weapons, pipes, pitchforks, knives, even broken bottles. They rush the Peacekeepers surrounding the square, and despite the first wave being gunned down by the harried Peacekeepers, they keep coming. Slashing and stabbing with their weapons, they overrun the guards and some citizens pick up their fallen guns.

This was planned. I realize this as I watch from the stage, watch as the repressed citizens enact their own vengeance. They smuggled guns into the crowd, and when the most cruel and despicable moment happened...they acted. But not everyone was in on this. Some are confused, crying out in worry and trying to escape the square without being gunned down by either side. Few do.

"Get then out of here!" A Peacekeeper on the ground screams at the three on stage. He fires wildly into the crowd, taking out dozens of citizens as they rush about, screaming. "Get to the train station! Go!"

"You heard him!" One of the Peacekeepers shoves me into Jac and Azalea, who are already being herded away by the other two. "Get going! Do you want to be--"

A thunderous gunshot roars over the others and the Peacekeeper goes sprawling down, spitting blood.

"Sniper!" A second Peacekeeper viciously grabs the back of my collar and yanks me off the stage, pushing me into the back of an open van. "They have snipers! On the roofs!"

Harvest is sboved in after me and then the doors to the van are slammed shut, leaving us in the dark. There are no windows. The muffled sounds of screams and bullets can still be heard as the van begins to move. I feel it swerve around a corner, throwing me and the others into the side of the van.

The van is speeding off, faster than I'd have thought. It's absolutely frightening, being tossed around in the dark of a van while the sounds of gunfire echoes around you. There's a lurching bump as the van rides over something, metal by the sound of it, but we don't slow down. If anything, we speed up.

"Where. Are. We. Going?" Harvest tries to speak, but he only gets the words out one at a time as he's thrown about the van.

The train station. That's what they said. But I don't say anything, terrified that I'd accidentally bite my own tongue off if I tried to speak. Eventually, the bumps cease. The gunfire fades. Then the van comes to a sudden and abrupt halt.

The four of us are thrown face first into the front of the van, and then the doors open. I squint through the light at two Peacekeepers. They wave guns about as they shout at us to get out.

"We're going!" Jac shouts back as one of them reaches in and drags Harvest out by his feet. I'm the next out, noticing that we're parked right in front of the train station as I clamber out. "Get on the train! Now!"

An elongated, ebony train rests on the tracks. Sleek and elegant. It'll get us into the Capitol in just a few hours, but...

I turn around and look down the empty street behind us. The sound of fighting and gunfire still echoes. If I get on that train, then I'm going in the Hunger Games. There will be no escape. But, if I could just get away now, before we board....

"Don't even think about it!" A Peacekeeper grabs me from behind and begins to drag me towards the open train doors. Harvest is already boarding, and so is Azalea. The other Peacekeeper runs for the engine, shouting for them to get the train moving.

I'm shoved into a sickenly bright compartment, decorated with so many colors that I don't even recognize half of them. "Where's Jac?" I ask when I realize that the boy isn't aboard with us. Azalea looks up in horror as the Peacekeeper points out the window.

"Get the hell in here, boy!" He screams at Jac, whose stopped right in the doorway.

He doesn't answer. His eyes are fixed on the horizon, wide with shock. His body is rigid and frozen in place, his hands clenched together. What...does he see?

"Get in here, Jac!" Azalea screams just as a warning whistle blows and a voice over the intercom instructs us to move away from the doors before they shut. "Jac!"

He still doesn't move. He's fixated on whatever it is he sees, frozen and stone still. He's not going to move. The doors begin to shut.

Just when I think he's about to be left behind, Azalea shoots forward, grips his shirt with her hand and heaves him into compartment just as the doors slam shut and the train begins to move.

District Ten: Madeva McGranger
"Madeva McGranger!"

''At the sound of my name, I fall into a daze, where everything is unreal and dream-like. It's only when I hear somebody else calling for me that I snap back into reality.''

Billy.

He sprints through the crowd towards me, and wraps me in his arms, before I even prepare to take to the stage.

"I volunteer!"

''Impossible. Unbelievable. Somebody has volunteered in my place. I recognize the girl As Valerie Heaven, somebody who would always help me out from time to time. I thank her when she passes me, and she smiles, giving me a nod. She bravely takes to the stage, states her name, and nothing more. Then comes the boys.''

"Billy McGranger!"

''I can hear somebody else calling out his first name. Me. I grab him and he sobs in my arms, until somebody else volunteers. This person, is Cesare Panchetta, a bully at school. He has tormented Billy in the past, and I hold a personal vendetta against him. I was hoping that he had felt bad about the past, but on stage, he claimed that he would be the victor, with a proud voice.''

"Selfish jerk!"' I think to myself. '"He just wants the glory!"

''Then comes the games. Valerie placed 25th, being the last bloodbath death. Cesare fared much better though, and reached the final, placing 3rd. As much as I hated the idiot, I still cared about his death, because he had saved Billy from the games. I cared for both of the tributes then - they had saved us McGrangers.''

If only their sacrifice had meant something.

I stand here in the crowd, remembering those two kids not for their valiant sacrifices and how they saved not only my own life, but that of my brother. No. Instead, I remember them because everything they did was pointless. Their deaths meant nothing.

They died in the Games three years ago. Billy died in his one year ago. I will enter the Games this year.

When Billy was reaped, I hoped desperately for a volunteer to take his place. None came, and time wasn't halting. In a matter of moments, I returned to normal, and listened to Billy making his terrible jokes, to which I facepalmed. He was broken, I could tell, but he was hiding it. Soon, he would be gone. Soon, I would never be able to protect him. I heard the female tribute, but I had forgotten to volunteer.

In the games Billy received a training score of 5, and odds of 35-1 to win. Not very good

Sadly, he didn't win, instead placing sixteenth, after succumbing to wounds inflicted by the boy from District 13. I had no idea how to react, whether I should just stay quiet, or whether I should mourn him. Memories of us flashed in my mind, and reality possessed me.

Billy was gone... and he wouldn't be coming back...

I burst into tears, and went into mourning. I couldn't seem to stop, until my hand brushed against one of Billy's hats. The feeling made me warm - at least I still had part of him. I was at peace. But throughout last year, I felt a constant agonizing pain in my armpits. I thought not much of it, until I could bear it no longer. I waited anxiously as my doctor came with the diagnosis.

It was breast cancer.

Just like with Billy's death, I just sat there in silence, until reality dawned on me. I burst into waterfalls of tears, but they stopped when the doctors revealed that Panem had found a new cure. There was a setback though - the cure was far too expensive, even for my rich family to pay. I felt the ground beneath me swirl, and everything was blurry, until I blacked out.

When I woke, I discovered that I had fainted. For once the pressure on real life got to me. Billy was dead, I had cancer, and the cure was too expensive. I fell under depression, and dyed my hair. My once chestnut hair was now black, with red streaks. I begun self-harming, and my skin turned pale. All because of some stupid peace treaty, and an equally dumb killing game.

Then a light bulb flashed in my mind - I could enter the Hunger Games, and earn enough money to pay for the cure, and avenge Billy! But if I lost, then I will have failed him. But my suffering would end, and I would join him. There was no other choice.

And indeed, I am volunteering. I shall win, for Billy! If I succeed, then my life will be saved, and my sanity found. But if I die, I could join him. and I'm okay with that. At least I could watch over Billy again...

But Billy may not be dead.

The thought comes striking into my skull, reminding me of this year's twist, of the covered box that sits next to me in this crowd gathered before the stage. My heart begins pumping with excitement, I feel sweat upon my brow and chills racing up my spine.

How could I have forgotten? If even for a moment? "Hello, District 10!" Thaddeus Stubbins, dressed in his dark cloak and with his long beard swaying in the wind, steps up to the microphone. "As you know, we already have two tributes entered into the Games. Amaryllis Blackberry and Cassandra Lexys." I'm confused for a moment, until I realize he's using their full names. "But they are not out only tributes. We will also have two new tributes, and two tributes from past Games, voted in by the Capitol."

"What happens to those not voted in?" Someone in the crowd asks.

Thaddeus smiles sadly at the crowd. "They will be, ahem, deposed of."

My hopes drop. That's why I had forgotten. I didn't want to get my hopes up, to be excited for something that might not actually happen. And worse--have to see Billy get "desposed of". I'm not hopeful, I'm hopeless. Who would vote for Billy? He was, God bless him, an eccentric fool. He told the lamest jokes possible. He...he's not the prototypical Capitol favourite. His odds are slim at best, non-existent at worse.

"Let's meet our All-Stars now!" Thaddeus motions for the curtain to drop, and the glass box is revealed. I see Billy! I see Billy grinning like a fool as he gazes around at the crowd. People cheer, people cry. Some even laugh. I'm a mix of all three. I'm happy, but sad, and also terrified. I don't know what to feel. Everything is so hard to accept. Thaddeus continues. "But before revealing which two of those esteemed tributes will join us, let us discover our new tributes! First up, the girls!"

My stomach twists violently as my moment approaches. I'm going to volunteer for a Games with ninety-two tributes. Where almost a hundred kids will die. But I don't have a choice, I can't wait another year, I may be not alive by then. Besides, Billy could be in these Games. And I need to be there, for his sake.

"I volunteer!"

I shout out before Thaddeus picks a name. I could have waited for him to say a name, let a girl know that I saved her. But I remember Valerie, and how she saved me. For a few years, at least. I don't want to save someone only for it to become meaningless. I just want to save myself; and Billy.

Thaddeus nods sagely and calls for me to come up. I try not to look at Billy's face as I walk up, but I find it impossible. I turn and see the confusion on his face, the horror and shock replacing his usual joy and delight. I pray that he is voted in so I can explain. I don't want to lose him without ever getting to explain why I'm volunteering.

"Your name?" Thaddeus gently probes.

"Madeva McGranger," I try not to look nervous as I answer.

"Very well. Now for the boy's!"

I'm glad he doesn't give the crowd much opportunity to gossip and whisper about why a McGranger sibling is volunteering. Many of them remember us and what our story is. I wish they didn't.

"Derek Sol--

"I volunteer!"

There's another gasp of surprise from the crowd. Another volunteer?! They don't understand, they don't know why anyone would volunteer ever. But I do. I know that there are many, many different reasons for why someone would volunteer for the Games.

But even I am surprised, when the boy turns out to be a small twelve year-old with one hand!

His face pulls into a grimace as the crowd begins to whisper at the sight of the stump attached to his right arm. He has dusty, strawberry blonde hair and a freckled face, his skin is almost khaki. "Name's Marlon Lander. And I'm going to be the kindling."

Kindling? Kindling to what? Thaddeus just nods sagely, as if he understood. I stand in a perplexed silence as the boy, with a dangerous fire glinting in his eyes, sits down on one of the chairs at the back of the stage. I see it now. I see his desire to change the way the world works, to avenge the loss of someone dear to him. I see it, because I feel the same way. We both want things to change.

And we're willing to kill to make it happen.

"It is now time to see which two esteemed tributes were voted in by the Capitol!" Thaddeus steps up to the mic. My heart is pounding in my chest, my eyes are fixed on Billy, whose own eyes are fixed in a butterfly floating nearby. Please be Billy. Please be Billy. Thaddeus cracks the envelope open. "The tributes are...Fawn Talons and Billy McGranger!"

"Yes!"

I shout aloud, gleeful that my sweet little brother gets another shot at life. I get to fight by his side! And I will not fail him!

Billy rushes up to the stage, a wide grin on his face. Fawn, the curly-haired girl who was Billy's original District partner, comes with him. I throw my arms around him as soon as he steps on the stage. "I'm so relieved!" I whisper fiercely into his ear, squeezing hard. I also become aware of Fawn, who is also in the act of hugging Billy. Right. She's in love with Billy...I don't know how I feel about that. Billy isn't...mature enough to have someone loving him, in a non-familial way. But I know she does care for him, evidenced by how broken up she was when he died. Then again, she was a bit too broken up. She almost went insane, actually. This could get uncomfortable.

Billy pulls away from the both of us and waltzes up to Thaddeus' microphone. I cringe as usual when he's around a public crowd. "Just call me Billy McPhoenix! Because I'm rising from the ashes!"

Beside me, I hear Fawn sigh with relief. He didn't say anything too embarrassing or awkward, and that's always a good thing. Thaddeus takes back over, to give the closing speech, and we all sit down next to Marlon, whose face is turned away from us.

"Um. Hi, I'm Fawn. You're Billy's sister, right?" The girl seems awkward around me, and I understand why. She's in love with my younger brother, whose on all accounts a goof and, it has to be said, not the brightest bulb in the pack. Not to mention I'm almost a full foot taller than her and look like a gothic queen.

"Yeah. I'm Madeva." We shake hands, and I begin to feel slightly better. She seems nice. I can get along with her, even if I don't think Billy is ready for a girlfriend.

"And I'm Billy!" Billy interjects himself into the conversation with a bright grin, I can't resist laughing along with Fawn.

"We both know who you are, Billy!" Fawn giggles and I marvel at how different she is from the last time I saw her on Tv. She was a sad, angry person back then. Now she's happy and full of life. Billy just has that effect on people.

"Are you done with that lovefest?" Marlon sneers at us from his chair. His face is drab, and his lips are thin and hawkish. I quickly forget my initial impression of him and desire to punch him in the face.

"Are we bothering you?" Billy asks innocently.

"No, I love watching three morons pretend like everything is happy and jolly in the world!" Marlon growls.

"Then why--"

"I was being sarcastic, you idiot!" Marlon cuts Billy off mid-question and it takes all my will power not to leap out of my seat and strangle him. Even Fawn stiffens, as if holding herself back. "Of course I mind! And so should you! Two of you have to die, you know. There's only one Victor. Laugh about that!"

The impish boy rises from his seat and steps off the stage. I've just noticed that the ceremony has ended and Peacekeepers are approaching to take us to the Justice Building for our last goodbyes.

My happiness fades away. Marlon, for all his flaws, is right. Only one of us will survive these Games. Only one of us will come back here. I look to my allies, see Fawn staring at Billy with such a protective desire, that I know she's meaning for it to be him. She'll do whatever it takes to have him survive. My eyes slide shut as I realize my own fate.

I need to protect Billy. My life doesn't matter. Cancer is already eating away at my anyways. No. I need to make sure Billy gets home, and I know Fawn feels the same.

Surely we can manage it, right?

District Eleven: Annabelle Harret
Bullets go flying every which way, shooting people regardless of alliance. Blood splatters, people cry out in pain.

The television flickers to a static image.

District 9...

What's happening there? Well, I guess that's not the right question. I know what's happening, I just saw what. People are revolting, people are fighting. They don't like what they're forced to put with, the inequality that pervades every facet of life. So they chose to fight back.

"Why didn't the cameras turn off earlier?" I ask aloud as me and my parents continue to watch the static filled screen. "They'd never purposely show a revolt. Never."

"Must have had technical issues," My father grunts and walks back into the kitchen. He isn't too perturbed by what he just saw, became he has seen worse in his lifetime. "Make sure you're ready for the Reaping."

I nod mindlessly. I'm too caught up in what I just saw. People fighting back against the oppressive government, fighting for a dream. My dream. The dream I've had ever since I learned the true horror of the Capitol. I've always wanted to escape it all, but maybe...maybe we could fight for our future instead of trying to run away from it. They couldn't beat us all. I bring this up to mother and she snorts derisively.

"Oh yes they could. Did you forget what just happened a few years back? During the rebellion? People fought. Then they died." She smiles at the end, to try and comfort me. It doesn't work.

"But what if we united? All the District's? Wouldn't that work?" Gears are churning in my head, trying to find a way.

"They would still win. Trust me, dear. Everyone has tried everything you could come up with, every variation and permutation. Sometimes we have a brief victory, but the Capitol always wins in the end..." She trails off sadly, staring into space. I wonder if she's had thoughts like mine before. Probably. "Try to quell this talk of rebellion," She comes back to reality. "Your father doesn't like it very much."

I fall silent, and then Father comes back into the room. "Let's get going," He says to us. "We don't want to be late."

"Have you heard from Roy?" I ask Mother as we head down to old road towards the Reaping stage, which has been sent up on the edge of the District, next to the big wall that surrounds us. "Is he...okay?"

"Yes," Mother doesn't look at me as she answers. "His Mom told me he'd be fine. But, you two shouldn't have risen the ire of the Peacekeepers in the first place! You should just be thankful that his punishment wasn't worse..."

"We should just accept status quo, huh?" I can't help but challenge her, even though I know it's a pointless argument.

"Yes. Trust me honey, fighting isn't worth giving up your life. Nothing is."

"I beg to differ..." I mutter under my breath, and while she gives me a suspicious look, she says no more. The only thing that Roy did to bring the Peacekeepers "ire" was take food from the orchard in an effort to help his starving family! The orchards should be ours anyway! We're the ones that plant them, the ones who take care of them, and even the ones that harvest them! But no! We're not allowed a single piece of fruit!

"So, do you think there is anything else outside of Panem?" Roy's words from just last morning come back to mind. The two of us were watching the sunrise, just before our daily jobs.

"I'm sure there is. Maybe a better place, where there are no Hunger Games, no starving people, peace and fairness." My own words echo back to my ears.

A better place.

Surely there is such a place out there somewhere? A place where we don't have to starve or get whipped just for trying to feed ourselves? "Such a place would be a dream come true." Roy is right. It would be a dream.

A few other people begin to surround us as we near the stage, and I know that everyone else here would feel the same about another world. We all want to escape the Capitol's iron rule. Unfortunately, that is all but impossible.

Mother hugs me tightly as we approach the crowd that has gathered around the stage. She makes sure to say everything will be fine and then departs as I get my blood taken and processed into line.

My first instinct is to look for Roy, and I find him in the crowd easily enough. He's near the edge of the crowd, along the wall that marks the District line. He smiles when he spots me and I return it quickly, but my eyes linger on the thick bandages on his back. It was a grisly mess of flesh when I last saw it, after the Peacekeepers whipped him raw. They just left him there, lying in the street rotting. I...I couldn't leave him like that, not after he saved my life.

I ran like thunder to get bandages for him, thankfully speed is my biggest strength, and saved his life. I'm glad to see that he is still fine. But I still feel disgusted, knowing what those Peacekeepers did to him just for trying to feed himself. It's not right.

"Hello world!" Lilia, a woman dressed in fancy clothing and wrapped in silks scarves, grabs the mic and begins the opening ceremony. I don't pay very much attention to this, as most of it is drivel and just more Capitol propaganda. Who needs to hear more of that? I've had enough for lifetime.

"Time to find out who are male tribute is!" Lilia finishes up talking about the tributes eligible for be voted in, who sit in a nearby box, and goes for the first diamond shaped bowl. Her gloved hand delves in and plucks out a slip of paper. "Caliban Rweed!"

A short silence follows the announcement, and then it's broken by the sound of a boy stepping forward into the spotlight. Tall, with pale skin and neat orange hair that is somehow messy at the same time, the boy looks like he's out of it and just going with the flow. Honestly, he looks like one of those hobos you see just lying in an alley.

Lilia regards him cautiously as he steps beside her, wobbling a little. An insane smile crosses his face and he says something to Lilia that the mic doesn't catch. She just frowns and turns to the crowd. "Ladies and Gentlemen, your male tribute, Caliban Rweed!"

I'm just breathing easy that it wasn't Roy who was Reaped. I mean, yeah, I feel bad for this Caliban kid but he's...kinda creepy looking. Not sure what his deal is, but it's nothing nice, I guarantee.

"And Caliban's District partner is...Annabelle Harret!"

No. No...no...no! I'm stunned. Stunned into silence. Did she just say my name? No, I'm supposed to go backhome and have as happy Reaping day meal with my parents. I'm supposed to hang out with Roy and talk about the future and how things could get better. Why did this have to happen to me? A girl I know from school pats my back and points to the stage.

The whole world blurs around me as I warily step out into the aisle and slowly walk up to the stage. The escort says something but I don't hear what she says because blood is rushing in my ears. Lilia holds out her hand and looks at me expectantly. I don't understand what she wants and my brow furrows in confusion. She takes my hand and starts to shake it, but I yank it back towards me.

Lilia frowns and mutters something about manners before I remember that I need to be something likable so that the Capitol will like me. So, I smile and make small talk with Lilia, trying to make myself look optimistic. When I finish, Lilia turns, facing the crowd. "Well, we now have two...fine new tributes. We may as well see who was voted in now!" I stop paying attention to her. My eyes drift over to Roy, whose face is a mask of horror. I'm suddenly glad that the boy's were Reaped first, that Caliban is up on this stage with me. I know Roy would have volunteered, had he been given the opportunity. He would try to protect me. Instead, he'd just die with me.

I'm glad he gets to live.

"Hey...want some crack?"

I nearly jump out of my skin as Caliban slithers up from behind me. His eyes are as black as night, and his face is pocked with marks. He looks like something out of a nightmare. "What did you just say?" I ask, hoping I just misheard him.

"I asked if you wanted some crack, bruh. Free of charge, of course," He pulls his jacket back and I see several bags of illicit substances hidden there. I'm repulsed, and immediately revert my opinion about being glad he was here with me.

"No way! I don't want anything you have to offer, druggie!"

"I ain't a druggie! I'm a drug dealer. Big difference." Caliban looks legitimately offended as he closes his jacket back up and looks around cautiously. "Though, I do test my wares...from time to time..."

I don't believe him. He tests "his wares" more often than he'd admit. I know this because of his appearance and his soulless black eyes. It won't matter if he wins or loses in the Games. He's already dead. The drugs have killed him.

"Daisy Lilac and Crimson Typhoon!"

Two more names are announced. Two more join us on the stage. Both refuse Caliban's offer. Then Lilia has us join hands and face the crowd. I feel dead inside as I see Roy in anguish. As I see my parents. I feel dead, because today will be the last time I see them in person.

Ever.

Distict Twelve: Celica Rotas
There's silence in the square, an eerie thing when you note that there are over a thousand people gathered here. But none of them speak. They just sit in their rows, quiet and apprehensive. The Peacekeepers patrol the aisles with their guns, a few stand on the nearby rooftops with sniper rifles, and yet others sit on the back of half-tracks, arming the massive turret guns located there.

In short, District 12 is on lockdown.

"Things have changed..." A boy sitting next to me mutters to himself as he takes in the armed guards that are everywhere. A few stand atop the box that we're chained in.

"Wasn't always like this, huh?" A scrawny girl peers down at us from the very back of the box. I believe she's from the 327th Games, but was originally in the 300th. She's a living fossil, a relic from a hundred years ago.

"No. It was...less guarded..." The boy looks sad, and I figure he must have forgotten how tight security was in the 398th Games. This is nothing new. He turns to look at the people in the crowd. They all look disheveled and I can see the bones on a few. That hasn't changed since I was Reaped. I try to find my friends in the crowd: Rosary, Niles, Peter, and Aurora. But despite my best efforts, I can't pick them out from the crowd and worry begins to eat at me. Have they all perished in the past two years?

No...no. That wouldn't make sense. I just can't see them in the crowd. That's all. I can't allow my fear to control me.

"It's time for the Reaping!" Pippy Kotu, whose apparently still escort, sings cheerfully into her mic. "We'll get two new tributes and find out who our other two All-Stars are! These four will join Thalia and Salem in the Games, obviously!"

"I hope they didn't pick me!" My District partner, Drago Fire clutches his head tightly with his chained hands. His entire body is shaking. With what? Fear? Nerves?

"Why wouldn't you want to be picked?" The girl from the 399th Games asks him with an arched eyebrow. For some reason, I know her name is Misty. Why do I know this? No one told me, I didn't even speak with the girl before. The name just...popped into my head.

"I was ripped apart," Drago answers her slowly; his words dark and low. "By humans. They tore into me with their teeth and nails!" His voice begins to rise, becoming hysterical, almost. "And I remember! I remember the pain I felt! I remember it all! All of it!"

His eyes swivel around wildly in his head and then he shuts them and goes still. An uncomfortable silence hangs over the box.

Misty is the first to break it. "You know, Ganta, I didn't expect you to get so far. I thought you as pretty weak."

"Yeah...I was pretty surprised myself..." The dark-haired boy looks off into the distance. "But, it was mostly Amaya that kept me alive. And then I left her to die." His words are laced with the sadness that is reflected in his eyes. I feel bad for him, remembering how he--

Wait.

I remember? How could I? I've been dead for two years, I never saw Ganta's Games and I wasn't told about them. That couldn't be the case anyways. Because I have actual memories of the incident. Of Ganta rushing off into the jungle and leaving Amaya behind tho be killed by Anais....How do I remember this stuff?

A unfounded fear begins to grow inside of me, and I turn to Drago.

"How did I die?" I ask him.

"Huh? What?" He stares back at me with blank eyes.

"Just answer me!" I'm impatient now. Excited. I have a theory, a theory that I need to see if is true...

Drago still looks confused, but he answers me. "You were slashed across the chest by Buck. While you were running away from the Careers with Aisha. But why--"

"How did you know?" In my excitement, my words are too loud and too forceful. Drago shrinks away in shock as everyone else in the box turns to stare.

"I don't know what you mean--"

"How did you know I was killed by Buck while running from the Careers?"

"I remembered it, obviously. But why--"

"How could you have remembered, when you died the day before me? And it wasn't because they showed you. They didn't. They just told us all about how the voting process works and then they sent us here, to this box. So how come we all remember things we shouldn't?"

Drago blinks. Once. Twice. Thrice. He turns to the others, all of whom are looking as equally as confused as I had felt earlier, when I doubted my own memory. We all know about how each of us died, about how the Games played out. I only saw the 327th once in my life, but I know every detail about how Amaryllis, Exolian, and Rio died. My memory...it's different. It's...

I stop thinking as I feel a strange prickling sensation at the nape my neck. It tingles with heat for a few seconds, and then I hear a distant ringing noise. It's low at first, like the bass of a drum. But it continues to grow louder and get more and more shrill until it feels like a fire alarm is going off inside of my head.

"STOP IT!"

I feel myself contorting as I try to escape the grasp of the siren. I don't hear the others beside me, I don't even see them. I just furiously pull at my shackles, twisting and turning as a rusty drill bores into my head.

Then the voices start.

Distant and low, they begin to speak to me from behind the siren. I don't know what they're saying, but they comfort me. A blissful feeling overtakes me, despite the searing pain in my head. I will be fine, the pain will pass. Everything will be alright. As long as I listen to the voices, as long as I do what they say.

The voices continue, a gentle hum against the head-splitting siren that envelopes me. I try to tune it out, try to focus on the voices. They are peaceful. Comforting. They know where they are going, I do not. I should listen to them. I should...

"Curriculum Lunes!"

The siren has ceased. The gentle voices are gone, replaced by the drone of the crowd that seems so very disgraceful in comparison. God. My head hurts. What's happening?

"I volunteer! I volunteer as District twelve's tribute...for the 400th Annual Hunger Games!"

A girl shouts from the crowd, but I am unable to pay any attention. The chains on me have dug into my skin during my thrashing and my skin is raw and bloody. My head. It aches. I see a bloody splotch on the side of the glass and realize I must have smashed my head against it while I was...while I was...I have to pause for several seconds, unsure of what I was doing. Everything just seems faint, and when I try to focus on any one thing, it just drifts out of my mind. It's infuriating.

"What happened...?" I manage to get a groggy question out and Drago, who's closest to me, shrugs.

"I..don't know. There was a very dull ringing. That's all I remember..."

Dull? There was nothing dull about the noise I heard. But, ooh, I can't remember. I can't remember anything that happened before the Reaping or what I was talking about. The others look as equally confused, staring at one another in a dazed stupor.

"My name is Curricular Lunes," A girl is on stage now, speaking to Pippy.

"Was that your sister you volunteered for?"

"Yes. She's my twin. And I just...I just couldn't allow her to go into the Games. Not when I just met her today," the girl begins to give a story about her twin and her life. Everyone seems to really like her and the crowd gives her a silent salute. Being the cynic I am, I can't help but feel this was all to get sponsors. I'm not doubting her story or her love for her sister, but what other reason would one have to relay it to everyone? Not that she needed the help. With her voluminous and glossy black hair, fair-skin and overall beautiful look, she was already likely to get many sponsors.

Curricular steps back beside a boy, one who I didn't even see get on stage. When was he Reaped? You'd think it would be almost impossible for me to miss that. I ask Ganta how he got there and he just gives me a peculiar look.

"He volunteered when you were thrashing about. His name is Falkner Avian."

He turns back to the stage and doesn't see the confusion that crosses my face. Thrashing about? When was I doing that? I certainly don't remember any thrashing about. Actually, now that I think about it...I don't really remember anything that happened in this box before Curricular took the stage. This bothers me, but I don't know why.

"Let's get some more All-Stars, huh?!" Excited yelps from Pippy as she tears into an envelope. I don't even have time to hope my name is on that note before she is reading it.

"Ganta Alomo and Misty Honeysuckle!"

It's not me. Ganta flashes me a sympathetic look as his chains come undone, but he spends no more time than necessary in the box before he scrambles outside. Misty just ignores us all in general. I can't help but hate her for getting the spot that I rightfully deserved. She died in the bloodbath! Why does she deserve another shot over me?

"What...happens now?" Drago seems a little distracted as he watches the two go to the stage. At the same time, I notice that my wrists are raw and bloody. Odd. They weren't like that a few minutes ago. Where they?

"We'll be dropped in a hole," Amaryllis speaks up from the back. "That's what happened to the tributes who weren't voted in last time..."

"Oh. Why?"

She shrugs. "No clue."

Very informative. I look up at the Peacekeepers patrolling the roof and think it's odd that they're all pointing guns at us. It certainly isn't normal... "Um. Guys?"

I don't have time to warn the others. With a shout from the Peacekeeper Captain, the others all aim their guns and shoot.

The last thing I see is a barrage of bullets headed right for me.

District Thirteen: Adreanna Danish
People pass me by, talking amongst themselves about things like family, fun, and food. There's a lot of nostalgic talk of the past from the people, something that seems to always come around on Reaping day. People like to remember.

I don't.

I don't like remembering.

There's nothing worth remembering.

There's just pain and loss.

Nothing worth remembering.

Nothing.

The crowd rattles along, with me in tow. We're all headed to the same place. The empty lot that was once the District 13 Command Center. It was almost a hundred years ago and there's literally nothing there anymore. So the Capitol set up stage and decided to make it our Reaping area. It's basically a slap in the face, to hold it where our independent government once ran things. The Capitol loves to slap people in the face.

I approach the line of tables that have been set up to collect the blood. Each table has a line that moves quickly and is then sorted in another line that chooses one's position in the crowd. It's an effective system, I'll say that much.

"Name?" A bored Peacekeeper asks me as I step up to one such table.

"Adreanna Danish."

"One second," He waits as the device prices my finger and then he waves me along. "Enter the sixteen year-olds line, please."

I do as he instructs and step into my proper line. Immediately I take notice of all the other girls in their pretty Reaping day dresses. I've never been what one would call "pretty". Especially not with all the scars long my body, and my hair which never grew past my chin, making me cut it short. These things and more have always made me different from the other girls. And it bothers me. I wish it didn't, but it does. I could never compete with them. So I don't try. I just dress myself in short tanktops and jeans that always wind up ripping. If I can't be pretty, then I might as well be comfortable.

After all, no one else can decide whether you're comfortable or not.

"Welcome, welcome to the Reaping for the 400th Annual Hunger Games!" Our Mayor, whose been doubling as an escort for the past few years, welcomes us all with a description of the Quarter Quell and it's twist. I don't pay any particular attention to this. The televisions have been repeating this stuff to death for the past six months. I'm just here for the Reaping itself, not the pretty speeches. I hate crowds and the quicker I can leave, the better.

"We already have two very excellent tributes, Douglas Biles and Jenessa Whitten!" Our Mayor stops for the applause, which is scattered and slow. He frowns a bit but continues nonetheless. "But before we get to watch them compete, we have to Reap our other tributes!"

It's right to the point now. Kids are going to be plucked from their homes and deposited in the Hunger Games. The crowd moves about restless as the Mayor has a triangular shaped bowl wheeled in front of him. His hand goes in. "And our new male tribute for the 400th Annual Hunger Games is...Julian Veritas!"

There's the usual silence as the crowd looks around for the selected kid, as the boy starts in surprise and wonders what went wrong. Then he moves from the crowd and I get a good look at him. Worry is on his face as he moves slowly, his frizzy brown hair flapping in the wind. He looks like the average District 13 kid.

"Well met, Julian!" Our Mayor claps him on the back and he makes a small grimace that I suppose was meant to be a smile.

"Y-yeah...Well met..." There's fear in his voice. I like him. He's not trying to hide himself, he's just showing us his true self. Hopefully, he doesn't die right off the bat.

A few more pleasantries are said by Mayor but he soon just goes for the next bowl. A name is taken out and read. "Adreanna Danish!"

A sharp exhalation of breath escapes my lips. I don't believe it. I don't believe it. After escaping my hellish life for just a few years, I'm forced back into another, equally hellish one? My muscles tense as I think to run, but no. I have nowhere to run, nowhere to escape to. I'm trapped, and have no choice but to walk to that stage.

The people turn to gawk as I do. I ignore them, realizing that my fate has been sealed. I'm not stupid, I know the odds of my victory in the Games are next to zero. I just hope I get a clean death.

"Well met, Adreanna!" I shake hands with the Mayor and then my eyes meet Julian's. I see something there, a hurt, a loss. I see pain, pain that can never be erased no matter how much time passes or how much you try to forget.

He lost someone too.

I don't know who it was, but they were important to him. His ice blue eyes stare back into mine and he too realizes what I know. We're birds of a feather. And now we're going to die together.

Neither of us say a word as we're instructed to step back and watch as two tributes from the box begin to get selected. Herbert appears in my head, forcing so many unwanted memories back to the forefront. No! I want to forget! It's why I had my eyes changed, why I don't talk about the past. There's nothing but pain for me there.

"Zoey Proasheck and Radiant Tayz!"

Both revived tributes were from the 398th Games. When they get on stage, Radiant nods curtly to both me and Julian while Zoey locks eyes with us. The two of them have been through this before, they know how it goes. In the end, they know how it'll stop. With death.

At least I can soon be reunited with Herbert I think as the four of us are presented to the crowd. And who knows? Maybe I'll win. Everyone has a punchers chance.

District Fourteen: Amica Belle
Have you ever had a friend who was so much like you, that you thought that maybe they were just a double? They liked the same things as you, hated the same things, and was just an all around great person? I did. Her name was Anissa Fallows. I met her when she first came to District 14 and was wandering the streets with nothing to her name. The two of us became quick friends, bonded by our similar past and shared hatred of the Hunger Games. Hmm. This seems familiar.

She was a little different, being from District 1 and all. Everyone there loved the Games and they always had volunteers. But she didn't. I don't know if that was part of the reason she left, she never really spoke about her past, but I think it was. All I know was that it was bad, bad enough for her to try and forget it. I never asked though; for she never asked about what happened to my own mom. I thought she deserved to have her secrets.

I still miss her. She left over three years ago but I still miss her. She was the older sister I never had, the sister that could teach me things I'd never learn on my own. She taught me how to fight, and though I detest violence, I know that being able to defend yourself is something everyone should know. She was so big and strong, always better than I was. But she said I was a a natural, even called me a ninja once. I don't think that's true but I like the way Amica the Ninja sounds.

"Ami! Are you ready? We need to go!" My father's voice calls from downstairs and I snap out of my day-dreaming and skedaddle, sliding down the banister when I reach the staircase. Dad greets me with a small smile.

I remember back when my Mom died, back during an escape at the mutt factory were both of my parents worked. Dad was broken for so long after that. He was dead inside. But time heals most wounds, and he recovered. Shortly after, I met Anissa.

"She didn't show last night, did she?" Dad turns to the door and my face falls.

"No...No. Anissa didn't return."

Every night, I sit at the gates of the District, waiting for her long orange hair to bright up the forest. But she never comes. It's been three years, but I won't lose hope that she'll return here, some day. She promised. And Anissa always keeps her promises.

"Well, I wouldn't be too worried," Dad opens the door and steps out into the balmy tropical day. Palm trees sway in the slight wind that blows from the ocean. "District 14 is pretty isolated. She'd be hard pressed to find a boat coming this way, especially since the mutt factories are closing down."

"What?!"

Dad turns to me, puzzled by the shock he sees there. "You didn't know? I thought someone at the ranch you work at would have told you..."

"Why are they closing down? Are all of them closing?" I don't understand. Mutt production is District 14's export. Why would the factories close? They're are livelihood, everything we do depends on them!

"That's the long-term goal, yes," Dad frowns as we walk along the carved path that leads to the Reaping bridge. "Every factory is meant to be shut down within the next two years. Three just closed this month."

"Why? Why would they cut off our livelihood? What'll become of my job?" I hate working on the ranch. It's back-breaking word under a hot sun, surrounded by the type of creatures that killed my mom. But it's also my only source of income. And if the factories all close...

"Apparently, it's an executive order from President Stryker. He says that mutt production has been too insufficient and that the distance needed for them to transport to the Capitol has become too expensive to maintain."

"So it's about money? Don't those Capitalists hogs already have enough?" I'm surprised to find myself so angry, but I understand my rage. People could starve to death because of this, I won't be the only one affected.

"No. They never have enough. But..." Dad trails off, unsure off what he's about to say. I raise an eyebrow in question. "People are saying that he doesn't want anyone in the District's seeing what kind of mutts they're cooking up. Not to mention that he wants it nearby, in case of another rebellion. He's been trying to quell our trade since he took over for his father. I'm not surprised."

Nor is he angry. Dad doesn't care, since he still detests the mutts. He hates every one of them for what happened to Mom, and while I don't disagree, I am clear-sighted enough to know what kind of trouble this could bring the District. Maybe he's right. Maybe this is why Anissa hasn't shown up...

"District 14, welcome to the Reapings for the 400th Annual Hunger Games!" Fox beams down at us from the stage, her puffy red fur reflecting the intense sunlight that comes from the sky. "I hope you're ready to give off a Victor! Because you haven't had one since the 390th Games! And that's just been far too long!"

The crowd doesn't react. They, like me, have heard about what is happening to the factories and they're not pleased. Fox doesn't understand that though, and just introduces the handful of Victors that we have. Chaz Robards, the Victor of the 390th Games, sneers down at us when he's introduced. I've always thought that he believed himself better than everyone else, and I now am more certain of that theory than ever before. "Well, if you're not all that excited, then we may as well get right to it!" Fox whips out a slip of paper with lightning quick reflexes and I don't have any time to prepare before she's reading my name aloud.

"Amica Belle? Where art thou, Amica Belle?"

My heart catches in my throat, gagging me into a stupified silence. My worries about the factories were unfounded. I needn't have thought so much about it. It's pointless now that I am going in the Games. I have much bigger things to worry about now.

Like staying alive.

I try not to cry as I take the stage. I don't want to be weak. Not for myself, and not for the Capitol, but for Anissa. She's surely watching this, wherever she is. I need to let her know that I took her training to heart. I'm prepared. I'm ready. A fighter never gives up. They fight and fight until they can't fight anymore. Until their hearts give out. That's what I am.

A fighter.

"You're a prime specimen!" Fox says as I stare deep into the crowd. "A mighty fine specimen!"

"Can I say something?" I ask her quietly.

"Why of course!" She jabs her mic under my head.

"Anissa. Don't worry about me. I'm going to win these Games. And then I'll find you. We'll be meeting each other soon."

That's all I have to say. Fox takes the mic back and seems confused as to who Anissa is. I don't worry about it. Anissa will get the message. That's all that matters. I zone out for the rest of the Reaping. Don't pay attention to a thing, until a tall boy with a mischievous smirk and messy brown hair joins me on stage.

It seems that he can't remain still; always pacing back and forth, his hands swinging at his side. Sometimes he even whacks himself on the side of the head and mutters something unintelligible.

His name is Dean Ambrose and I think he's a lunatic.

It's not long before two more join us. Luxray Meganium, who stands taller than everyone else on stage, though Dean is also pretty tall; and Amaya Lovelace, the girl I personally wanted to win last year. The four of us are presented to the crowd and hurried off to the dock, where we board a strange ship and head off for the Capitol. There we watch the other Reapings.

They show them in reverse numerical order, starting from 13. Luxray is filled with a silent fury when his friend Luxio is shot to death, and Amaya claps with excitement when she sees that Ganta will be entering the Games. I thought she'd be angry, but apparently she has forgiven him. Good. Everyone deserves a second chance.

Dean howls with some sort of emotion that I can't place when a boy named Seth volunteers in District 5. He starts pacing behind our couch after this, muttering to himself. I think I hear the word "brother".

Then District 1 comes along.

I wasn't worried that I'd see Anissa Reaped, because that District always has a stupid, arrogant kid volunteering. And a girl does volunteer. But when she takes the stage, I recognize her. I'd recognise the girl with the long orange hair and that red streak anywhere.

It's Anissa.

And she's volunteered.

She's...going to be in the Games with me. I feel nauseous. Why did Anissa volunteer? She hates the Games. Hates them even more than I do. Why would she...

I feel my eyes roll up as I faint.

The Capitol: Mahogany Vesta
As I gaze upon the Capitol's main street, I am once again reminded that it is the ugliest place I have ever seen.

People jostle their way through the streets, draped flagrantly in colors, yelling, and talking, and moving, and stinking, and coughing, and bumping. It's a chaotic mess, a scene that speaks volumes about the stupidity and arrogance of the Capitol and its rulers.

It's like this every year on the evening of Reaping Day, when the citizens of the Capitol converge on President Stryker's personal mansion for our very own Reaping. I see it every year and I'm still not prepared for the sight, sound, scent, and colors of the city on Reaping day. Everything is just far too overwhelming.

I stand at the side of the road, stooped beside a building draped in flapping streamers. In front of me, a herdsman drives a small flock of sheep toward the Reaping square. Each one is dyed a different color, a foolish way of celebrating the grand event before us.

I tap my feet impatiently as I stand beside the building in the shadow of a large stone statue. Where is that boy? I think. Cyan told me to meet him here, and he has yet to come.

There is nothing to do but wait. I look up at the statue beside me; one of Buck Rockwell. All statues on this road depict Victors. They stand in every imaginable pose all across the entire street, armed with weapons and often dressed in colorful clothing. According to my parents, the citizens of the Capitol find dressing the statues to be an amusing pastime. As I said, they're all idiots.

The numbers of statues increase yearly, each Victor getting their own. I don't know what order they place then in, not of the year the won, for Rockwell's is back here, at the start of Main Street. Last year's Victor, Anais Morrisa, has hers all the way up at the mansion. Excess and waste I think, shaking my head. All the money that goes into these could be used for helping the poor in the District's, if only the Capitol had the mind.

Finally, I notice Cyan coming back down the street. I frown as I see that he was wearing some ridiculous frippery on his head—it looka a little like a sock, though much larger. The bright green hat flops down one side of his face, and looks very out of place on his drab clothing. Something both him and I wear to show our disdain for the Capitol and its nonsensical absurdities.

The only "Capitol like" thing we have is our colored hair and the obnoxious pair of wings on our backs. They're real, not fake. Something forced upon us by our parents, Aero and Maroon, a pair of ultra stylists for the Hunger Games. They thought that the two of us needed something to set us apart, and despite our vehement disagreement, they forced it upon us.

I often tie the wings behind my back with a red sash; otherwise I risk having them caught in door frames.

"Cyan?" I ask, trying hard not to get annoyed at him. "What is on your head?"

"A hat," He say rather grumpily.

"I can see that it's a hat. But why is it on your head?"

My twin brother pulls his face into a sneer. "Why do you think? They told me to wear it!"

They. He means our parents. I sigh inwardly. Always forcing their stupid fashion choices onto us. What else is new? "Why did you want to meet here?" I ask, suddenly remembering that he told me to come here.

A slow grin spreads across his face. "I've done it, Mahogany!"

"Done what, Cyan?"

"Come into contact with some rebels. Some real rebels!"

Rebels. Us Vesta twins are a pair of them, deep down. It's what inspires us to rebuff our parents at every turn, to thrum our noses at the Capitol. We want nothing to do with their ways and customs, all of which is ridiculous and egotistical. Often, the two of us will slink out at night and cause mayhem. Nothing very serious, usually just vandalism and random assaults. Though I did kill one or two Peacekeepers before, with a well-thrown knife.

"What kind of rebels?" Curiosity overtakes me as I question my giddy brother, who is usually so very taciturn and quiet.

"Serious ones. Very, very serious." His face grows grave, yet the excited twinkle never leaves his eyes. I'm frowning to myself, wondering how this is possible.

"Where did you meet them, Cyan?" The thought of inside men, people who pretend to be rebels but really work for the Capitol, flit across my mind.

"I cannot say," Cyan shakes his head.

"They could be spies, Cyan. If you're not careful..."

"They're not. I know it for fact. They're...special. And they're willing to recruit us, if we play our part."

I'm not convinced. This is sounding more and more like a trap. These people want us to play our part? Probably something illegal. And while we're doing it, Peacekeepers are likely to show up and arrest us. I tell Cyan this, but he doesn't listen. He is too taken up with the idea.

"Trust me, Mahogany. This is what we've been waiting for. An opportunity to take down the—"

"Get moving, you loiterers!"

A roving band of Peacekeepers come down from the street, waving batons in our direction. Cyan mutters an apology to them and grips me by the arm, dragging me down the street, towards the Presidential Manor. "Come with me, Mahogany," He speaks in whispers now that a crowd surrounds us. "And then we both can get into their group. We both can help accomplish we have long sought!"

"These people are going to get you killed!" I whisper fiercely back. Cyan is too impressionable. Too cocky. He'll believe anything, if you tell him he's the only one who can do it.

"No. No they won't!" His eyes shine with a light I have not seen in a long time. "They'll help me win back the rights of man. Now: Are you with me or not?" He stops me there, in the middle of the street. I shake his arm off and glower.

"You haven't even told me what you're doing!"

"And I can't! I'm not allowed to. You just have to trust me. Do you?" He looks into my eyes and I into his. I see trust there, trust that I'll listen to his pleas. And I trust him. But I also trust him to get us killed.

"I trust you more than anyone else in the world," I say quietly. "But I can't assist you on this...this suicide mission. You're going to do it today? On the day with the most Peacekeepers and guards! It's foolish!"

Cyan doesn't speak. We both stand there, like stones in the river. The crowd of people rushing past is the water, flowing around us on its way to the final destination. A minute passes and Cyan still doesn't speak. I touch his shoulder expectantly and he lets out a low chuckle.

"Fine...fine...its fine," His words have an edge to them, a strange tone. "You stand in like a good little sheep. I'll be the one fighting, I'll fight for everyone. You just do as you're told..."

"Cyan. You know it's not like that...I'd help you if only you explained!" I don't think my words reach him. He just smiles sadly and shakes his head.

"My words may sound harsh, but they're true. We can only win once we stop doing as they say. What would happen if no one showed for the Reaping?"

"They'd kill everyone," I respond flatly.

"No. They can't afford to kill everyone. But we can." He turns to stalk away, but my hands grip his arm. He stops and waits for me to speak. I have over a dozen things to say, but only one question comes to words.

"Cyan, what the hell are you going to do?"

A small smiles plays on his lips. "You'll see. Tomorrow. You'll see."

He pulls free from my grasp and disappears into the rushing crowd. I try to follow him, but it's impossible in the massive throng of humanity that continues to surge towards the Manor. I'm afraid. Afraid of what Cyan is going to do. The two of us have always been rebellious, not liking to be controlled. We always fought back. But this time...I fear Cyan will go too far.

I get swept up by the crowd, going along with the flow. I meet up with my parents at the edge of the Mansion. They come towards me with disapproving looks and dabbed up in ridiculous cosmetics. I can barely stand to look at them. "Where's your brother?" My father, Aero, asks me.

"I..." What do I say? "I don't know. I think he already got sorted into line."

"Was He wearing his hat?" Mother asks me.

"Uh. Yeah, actually."

"Good. Good. Get in line, Mahogany. And for the love of everything beautiful, please try not to draw attention to yourself. You've dressed horrendously!"

I ignore the shot at my, by District standard, normal clothing, and do as they say. Cyan is still on my mind, but there's nothing I can do for him right now. I can't help but feel like I'm letting him down. We've always been so inseparable, and now I just left him.

Minutes drag by as I'm sorted into line before the grand stage set up before me. An ornate golden box resides in the center of the clearing, a makeshift home for the tributes who can be voted in. I wonder how they're feeling right now. Probably very uncomfortable.

There's another twenty minutes of prep before the crowd fills out and the fireworks stop. A drum roll begins and then someone bursts through a tapestry set up on stage. President Stryker. Our very own tyrant.

He's smiling and waving to the crowd. Everyone cheers wildly, eating out of the Palm.of his hand. His smile widens. Forgoing the usual formal dress suit and tie, he's wearing a crimson polo shirt and a black pair of shorts. Very informal.

"Helloooo to the wonderful citizens of the Capitol!" He slaps hands with people near the stage as, behind him, people begin to file onto the stage and take their seats. Anais Morrisa is among them, dressed in a frivolous outfit. She and Stryker have been a thing ever since she won the Hunger Games. Obviously, someone is playing someone but I'm not sure which. Maybe both. "Are you all having a good time?"

"YES!"

The crowd roars its approval, and for the first time, I become aware of all the heightened security. Peacekeepers drift through the crowd covertly; their guns locked and loaded. Snipers crouch on all the rooftops, and the black uniformed soldiers of the Stryke Force, President Stryker's personal guard, festoon the stage. Two soldiers in particular stand out.

They stand taller than everyone else around, mountain of men with sledgehammers for fists and legs like plated steel. Their necks are so thick that not even a grown man could wrap his hands around them. Their heads, adorned with black helmets marked with a red hand print, follow Stryker has he paces the stage. Stipators. Their sole meaning in life is to protect Stryker's own. And I think they must be pretty successful, for who would want to mess with those nine-foot tall behemoths?

"You know what?" Stryker is saying as he comes to a halt in the center of the stage. The crowd shouts out, asking what. He beams them a magnificent smile. I hate myself for thinking it handsome. "Let's just skip all these boring formalities and go straight to the FUN part, shall we?"

"YES!"

The crowd goes along with whatever he says. They're beginning to hurt my ears.

"Then let's hop to it! Magnifico! Fetch the bowl!" He snaps his fingers and immediately a man wearing a black top hat comes out from behind a curtain, reeling a star shaped bowl filled with small slips of paper. Stryker grins at the crowd as the bowl comes to a halt before him. "Just between all of you and me..." He glances around as if someone might be listening in which, of course, they are. All of Panem is watching this right now. "I'd prefer if a Capitol tribute won this year!"

The crowd goes absolutely nuts at their President's desire, and I realize that he purposely said that just to get a cheap pop from the crowd. He's trying to send a message: That the Capitol listens to him and him alone.

He dips a hand into the bowl and I don't whether he's picking for the boys or the girls until he reads the name. "Nathan--"

"I volunteer!"

A voice shouts loudly to slice through the murmurs of the crowd. A broad smile breaks out on Stryker's face, glad to have had a volunteer, no doubt. If he was hoping for a powerhouse like Olympic Oblado, who won his Death Duel, he's going to be disappointed.

The boy isn't very tall, slightly below average from my very uncertain analysis. He's slight and has pale white hair that shines under the bright lights. His lone eye glints a blue sapphire. His other is covered with an eye patch.

"Well, well. Looks like we have a scrappy fighter here folks!" Stryker shows no sign of displeasure as he shakes hands with the boy. I notice the kid keep a hand curled defensively around something on his neck. I wonder why?

"Kaneki Urashi," The boy rasps without looking at the crowd.

"Excuse me?" Stryker's voice is light, but I see his eyes flash with annoyance for a brief moment.

"My name. It's Kaneki Urashi."

"That's a very...non-Capitol like name, Kaneki..." Is that remembrance I hear in his voice? The two massive Stipators tense their muscles instinctively, but when Stryker bites his lower lip they relax immediately. "But we're glad to see you nonetheless!" The moment has passed. Stryker has gone back to his normal, too-cheery self.

Kaneki bows his head respectfully and then drifts away to the corner of the stage. Stryker orders Magnifico to get the second bowl and the moustached man brings it in. The name is drawn. It's mine.

"Mahogany Vesta!"

It's a horrible feeling, when you realize you can't do anything to change your fate. I briefly wish I had gone with Cyan, but that wouldn't have changed anything. My name would still have been drawn. The only difference is that I'd be killed for missing a Reaping instead of going into the Hunger Games.

"It's brilliant to meet you, Mahogany!" Stryker claps me on the shoulder, his emerald eyes twinkling.

"Likewise." No point in angering the man who has the power to kill me.

"Wonderful wings you have there. Really great!" He turns away from me and so misses the flash of anger that comes upon my face. But the cameras don't.

I feel incredibly exposed, standing there on the stage as Stryker goes up introducing the box tributes. Everyone is watching me, the others on stage. The two gigantic Stipators stare at me through their dark helmets and I'm conscious of the fact that they could crush my head with their bare hands as easily as they'd crack a nut. I'm conscious of the dozens of Peacekeepers in the crowd, of the hundreds on the streets, of the thousands in all of Panem. And now I feel small. Small and insignificant. How did I ever think I could put a dent in this infrastructure? How I thought my childish antics and foolish attacks would ever amount to anything? This power...this strength...it is so far beyond me that it's not even funny.

Cyan.

What is he doing right now? What group is he working for? Does he even know what he's up against? I don't think that he does.

"Ramon Constancy and Flame Vapore!"

A muscular boy with a cocky grin and a graceful girl who moves like a ship in the in the wind are released from the box. When they reach the stage and are introduced, I expect to the others to be exterminated. We all saw what happened to them in the other Districts.

But it doesn't happen. The box just closes and descends back into the ground. Apparently the Capitol doesn't like watching murder happen before their eyes. It's only fun when it's on TV.

Stryker has us all stand on the front of the stage and face the crowd. Ramon grins. Flame stares sadly into the distance. Kaneki sighs. I watch a tall building on the horizon, an amazing one. I think it's the Council Tower. The office and meeting place of the Capitol Council, the group headed by President Stryker that oversees the day-to-day operations of the Capitol and discusses how best to make the District's lives horrible. It's one of the most recognizable buildings in all of Panem, the most prestigious of all their creations, second only to Stryker's mansion.

It's truly awe-inspiring, despite what I think of the Capitol has a whole. I stare at the circular top of the tower, where the Council meets. I wonder how high up it is.

And then I see it explode.

Watt Powers (District 5)
"Last night three explosions rocked the Capitol while most of it's populace was at the Reaping. Three key government buildings were effected and the lives of thirty-two people lost, with a further twenty-four injured. Early reports indicate that Councillors, Barca, Velocitor, and Arcos, all of the Capitol Council, are among the dead"

An Ultra-Definition television drones in the corner of the room as I sit on my bed, silently eating a box of powdered donuts. On screen, a reporter lady is standing in front of the burnt wreckage of what once was the Capitol Post Center.

"When we asked Commander Parlin, one of the six God-Generals in charge of national security, he told us that the attacks were carried out by a band of depraved radicals who have no real motivation beyond inflicting as much pain and suffering as possible. He ensured us that the perpetrators would be brought to justice, and hinted that he may already have a lead in the matter. President Stryker himself has declined to comment. No doubt he is busy hunting down the monsters who'd harm people on one of the happiest days of the year. When we have more information, we'll report. But for now this is Karlee Darlene, signing off."

I flick the television off with the remote on my lap. Man, That is some scary stuff. What if those radicals decided to attack us? Here, in the tribute apartments? I shudder at the thought. Scary.

''Thud! Thud!''

Two knocks at my door. I sigh and wiggle myself into a position so I can roll off of the bed. Shoeless, I waddle across the comfy carpet and open the door.

"You should really focus on self-hygiene," My good friend Sebastian (5) says when it opens. He looks impeccable in the brilliant training outfits, with a really cool watch on his wrist. His blonde hair has been combed into a dignified style.

"You look good, buddy!" I grin and offer a fist-bump.

"You have white powder on your face," He says cryptically. He doesn't bump my fist.

"Yeah. I was eating powdered donuts. Want one?" I hold out my other hand, offering him a slightly crumbled donut. "I mean, yeah, I may have rolled over it when I was getting the door, but it should still taste the same!"

His ice blue eyes flicker from my face to the donut and then back. "I'll pass. Breakfast is in a few minutes."

"Oh, good! I'm starving!"

"Didn't you say you just ate a whole bag of donuts?" I hear a hint of surprise in his voice and puff out my chest proudly.

"Yep! But that was just a snack! I'm ready for a meal!" Sebastian's face purses in a funny way, and I bring my hand back to scratch my chin. He never did fist-bump me. "You, uh, want somethin'?"

"Maxwell sent me to wake you up and give you these," He dumps a pile of clothing into my hands. My training outfit. "And...I wanted to tell you that our alliance is still on. As long as you do not do anything...stupid."

"Don't worry about that! I was the smartest kid in my class. Stupid isn't something I am!"

He regards me for a long moment. "Very well. Just remember that." He turns and trots down the hall, disappearing at the first turn. What a good friend. I dress myself in the clothes, or at least I try to. They don't exactly fit very well and after a few minutes of struggling, the best I can do is get the shirt covering most of me. My stomach still extrudes slightly, but I don't have time to fix it. I'm hungry.

The dining room is a spectacular thing. The cavernous ceiling stretches high into the sky, where a large chandelier hangs overhead. Painted murals dot the screen, and the chairs have been encrusted with diamonds that pulse with electricity. I sit myself at the only open chair, one between Sebastian and a kid named Seth. Honestly, he looks like a tool.

"Glad you could join us, Watt!" Maxwell grins as I start piling my plate up with eggs, bacon, pancakes, waffles, and just about everything on the table. "District 5 truly as some remarkable tributes!"

"Yesh chould sahy thet aghain!" I try saying with my mouth full of food. I notice the small girl, Ashley (5), give me a curious look. What's her problem? Next to me, Seth coughs into a napkin. Or he's laughing, but I don't think so: no one told a joke.

"Before we eat..." Maxwell begins, oblivious to the fact that Trick and I are already eating. "I would like everyone to say why you desire to win these Games. Sebastian, let's start with you."

My friend doesn't hesitate, and after adjusting his shirt, he goes. "I desire to earn the personal glory that comes from winning the Games. I desire the power it will give me, and the political strength that I'll have."

"Hey! That was my reason!" Seth glares down his nose at Seb, who smiles back calmly.

"Can't we both have that reason?"

"No! You stole it from me!" See? Total tool.

Maxwell has a hard time shutting Seth up after that, but he manages. The man falls back into his seat, grumbling in discontent. Sebastian, for his part, doesn't say anything. But he watches Seth with cold eyes that promise future vengeance. You don't mess with my friend!

We continue playing Maxwell's game. Johnathan doesn't want to win, as long as a good-willed person still breathes, and Trick just wants to kill everyone. Weirdo. Finally, its my turn.

"I want to prove everyone who has ever thought me weak wrong. I'm the smartest person in this room, the entire building, and probably most of Panem. But no one ever gives me the respect I deserve. It's high time I changed that."

I lean back with a confident smile, enjoying the surprised silence around me. Sebastian is the first to recover, applauding me. "Well said!"

Yeah! It was well said! Maxwell grunts something and turns to Ashley, who has been quietly eating this whole time. "What do you hope to accomplish?"

"I..." The girl's orange eyes flicker nervously between us. For a moment it looks like she's not going to speak until Johnathan nudges her and she continues. "I want to prove that being homosexual doesn't make you different from others, that you shouldn't be judged for it and that it's okay."

Silence. I exchange a glance with Maxwell and then...

"Bah hahahaha!"

Sebastian bursts out laughing, nearly falling out of his seat he's laughing so hard. Seth joins in, making the laughter even louder and more condescending. After a few indecisive seconds, I join them. Ashley sinks into her chair, her face burning bright red.

"What a freak!" Sebastian howls with laughter and gives me a nod.

"Yeah! Weirdo!" I call Ashley out, feeling bad but trusting my friend.

"You can't prove you're not different, when you are different!" Seth crows gleefully.

"Completely different!" I add.

Sebastian calls her a few more names. Many not very pleasant. I wonder where he's going with this when Johnathan smashes his fists on the table, rattling the plates and stunning us into silence. "Ashley isn't the freak here. It's you three who're the freaks!"

"Oh? Please explain."

"You're the ones who can't change. Can't accept that whole groups of people are people too. Don't you feel bad ever?"

"Yes. I feel bad right now, actually. I feel bad, knowing that when I slowly peel Ashley's skin away with a knife, that you won't be able to watch. You won't get to see your little freak flayed alive. And for that, I feel bad."

Johnathan lunges across the table, reaching for the front of Sebastian's shirt. But my friend is too cunning and dances away before he even reaches him. "Ah, ah, ah! Save your aggression for the Games, Johnny boy. Wouldn't want you to run out of steam by the time they start!" Seb departs, laughing the whole way. Seth, cackling like a hyena, also goes. I'm left alone with the others.

Trick, whose watched this whole encounter with a insatiable bloodlust in her eyes, grins as she also departs, slippery like a snake. I feel extremely uncomfortable now that I'm just left with Johnathan, a shellshocked Maxwell, and a newly crying Ashley. "Umm. I was just backing my friend!" I say, rising from my chair and still clutching my plate. "I don't think you're too much of a freak." I add as an afterthought.

"Sebastian?" Johnathan asks me, voice as cold as ice. "He's your friend?"

"Yeah. We're buds. Real tight, ya know?" I slowly begin to approach the door, plate still in hand.

"Don't trust him!" Johnathan calls as I exit into the hall. "He cares nothing for friends! If you stay with him...you'll get a knife in the back."

I ignore him. Friends don't listen to people bad mouth their friends.

Ramon Constancy (The Capitol)
The five of us lounge in the luxurious living room, waiting for the signal for us to head for training. If it was up to me, we'd already be down there. But Pliny, the man who fills in as escort, says that we must follow proper protocol and arrive just on time.

I yawn and throw my arms over the back of the velvet couch that I share with Mahogany (C) and Flame (C). The room is circular, with a panoramic window encompassing most of the western wall. Through it, we can see the blackened Capitol Tower as people swarm around it. We also have a close-up view of it, through the television that hangs above the fancy fireplace.

"So, is this normal in this time?" I ask as a special report comes onto the screen. "Do buildings usually blow up? Cuz, they didn't back in my time!"

No one answers. Mahogany is pale and stiff, her eyes glued to the television screen. Flame is lounged back, watching me with mild interest. Olympic is doing pull-ups on the door frame.

"No..." Quiet Kaneki (C) answers from where he sits in the corner of the room. "No, things usually don't blow up. Especially not buildings."

"Ah. So these depraved radicals are new?" I haven't been alive since the 327th Games. I have no idea what the current political landscape looks like.

"They're rebels, really," Mahogany says quietly from where she sits. Her red eyes are still fixed solely on the television.

"Oh. So you know about them?"

"No! Of course not! I only know ofthem!" Something flashes in her eyes. Fear? Does she know more than she is letting on? It's possible, but I wouldn't know why she'd hide it. I keep am eye on her, noticing as she sits up straighter when two newscasters discuss the rumor that the Capitol already has a person of interest in their hands.

"They're lying," Flame surprises us all by speaking. "If they really had someone, they'd be flaunting them around for everyone to see right now. Probably just looking for a convenient scapegoat, someone they'll have plucked from the District's, no doubt."

"You don't sound very fond of our leadership," I say casually. It appears to be a trend amongst my District partners. Only Olympic seems overtly approving of the Capitol, and maybe Josool. I haven't seen him since breakfast.

"You don't seem very fond of bathing," She wrinkles her nose and leans away. I laugh, baring my shiny teeth.

"I haven't bathed since the night before my first Games. And that was the 301st. I guess you could say I've gone ninety-nine years without a bath!"

"They only attacked important Capitol buildings," Kaneki interrupts us from his little corner. "And only killed high-ranking officials. They're not as brazen as the media makes them out to be."

"Cyan..."

"Excuse me?" I glance at Mahogany, who had just muttered something. A color, I think.

"I didn't say anything."

"Yes, you did!"

"No. I didn't."

"Yes! You did!"

"No! I didn't!"

"Yes! You--"

"It's time to get to the gymnasium!" Pliny comes rushing into the room, interrupting our little game. A shame. I'd have liked to see it go on. "You all need to get moving! Now! We cannot be even a second too late!"

"Whatever happened to fashionably late?" Flame mutters as he pulls us all out of our seats.

"Where's Josool?" He wonders when he doesn't spot the boy amongst us.

"Kitchen, I think," Olympic answers. He rushes off to find him, after instructing us to board the elevator. I watch Mahogany as we wait. She's interesting, and I believe she knows more about the attack on the Capitol Tower then she's letting on.

Courage Blitz (District 3)
This is the third time I've stood here, waiting for a elevator to come bring me down into the gymnasium. The third time I'll watch kids all much stronger and faster than I am, play with weapons that I could never possibly wield. The last two times I had hope that I could win with just my intelligence.

I didn't.

"How long must we wait for this dreadful elevator?" Caspian (3) complains with his exotic accent as the six of us stand before the doors. The boy is odd. He alone among us stands over six feet. Towering over me, the second tallest at only 5'7. He looks more like a Career, with his handsome looks and muscular arms, then he does a District 3 erudite.

He sighs in annoyance when no one answers him. Noah (3) and Chip (3), the Duel winners, stand apart from us, whispering in the corner. I had briefly entertained the notion of allying myself with them, but eventually decided against it. I also make it far as a loner. It's my late-game, not early-game, strategy that needs work.

"You are quite the drab lot," Caspian decides to speak to himself in boredom. "All cold and calculating, no emotions whatsoever." He smiles. "Maybe we do have something in common after all."

"Or maybe we just don't have anything to say!" Ziya (3) says drily. Her eyes have been flashing with annoyance for the whole time Caspian was speaking. Now she watches him with coldness in her eyes.

"Aha! You can speak! Quite amazing!" Caspian's honey oak eyes flash briefly as he claps a hand onto Ziya's shoulder and has it linger. I see it for what it is. A show of power. He's waiting to see if Ziya will try to move his hand, defy him. Ziya stares into his eyes, and I get a very bad feeling about this. Ziya is not the sort of person to ignore challenges and Caspian is not someone you defy. I'm aware of the tension in the room, the feeling that just a small spark could incite a fight. Ziya holds her left hand up. To swat Caspian's away?

Ding!

The elevator doors slide open. Caspian laughs and takes his hand off as he steps inside. I breath an uneasy sigh of relief and follow him in. The rest shuffle in after us, apparently unaware of the fight that almost broke out. Ziya purposely puts herself on the opposite side as Caspian, and he laughs as the door slides shut.

"We're probably going to be the last District to arrive," He says.

No one answers him. I notice Chip shaking in his shoes, absolutely terrified. Get a hold of yourself! I want to scream at him. This is his second time competing, he should be able to contain his fear! I've already died twice, and yet I'm not frozen with fear. In fact, I'm going to be more forthcoming and active then I've ever been before. Going forth with reckless abandon and taking risks. Because what's the worse that could happen? I die for the third time? Big deal!

Ding!

The elevator stops and the doors open again. A huge crowd of kids hover around I the gymnasium before us, a room that's at least five times bigger than the last time I saw it. We step out into the gym and immediately a whistle is blown. Caspian was right. We were the last District to arrive.

"Attention!"

A short, stocky man with buzzed hair walks past, ordering us all to line up, tallest to shortest. There's chaotic shuffling as all ninety-two of us rush to get to our places. By the time we finish, we have a gigantic line spanning from one side of the massive gym to the other. On one side, there's three boys tall boy. A doofus from District 2, dressed entirely in yellow and looking like a banana, is placed at the top. At the way back stands Salem (12), underrated and overlooked.

"My name is Llewellyn, the Head Trainer here!" The stocky man speaks once our line is finished and sorted. "And I am here to tell you that these next few days will determine if you live or die. So, you should listen well to my words."

"Weapons and the ability to wield weapons, are important. But they are not what will keep you alive. That's the other skills. The miscellaneous skills assembled here," He waves a large hand at the stations on the left side of the gym, the plant identification, the tree climbing, trap setting, and others. "Those are the skills that will keep you alive. You All-Stars may be shaking your head now, but trust me. This year more of you will die from the elements than ever before. So, if you are wise, you'll learn all you can. That is all."

Llewellyn blows his whistle and the training period begins.

Misty Honeysuckle (District 12)
Chaos erupts as everyone begins to spread out in different directions. The air screams with the sound of sneakers on linoleum floors. People shove past me. I bounce off of a boy's large shoulders and spin around.

The Careers all go straight for the weapon stations, their numbers large and almost uncountable. Everyone is already watching them with apprehension, fear in their eyes. I don't know how someone will manage to defeat this massive alliance.

A trio of tributes push pass me. The McGranger siblings and Fawn (10). They all head for the Gauntlet. One by one, others begin to head off for a station. There's more stations then ever before, even a giant cube full of holographic fighters. The Capitol really broke the bank this year.

Pretty soon, I'm one of the few tributes left who hasn't moved for a station. Only a handful of others still loiter around, as uncertain as I am. Last time I joined the Anti-Careers, and I think that I should try to do the same thing this year.

I pace around the hundred yard long gym, watching the others. The Careers still crowd around the weapons and appear to be having some sort of disagreement. I note that they're missing a few people from Career Districts. So some didn't join up? Bad mistake on their part. If I was capable, I'd join with them right away. Who cares about ethics when your life is on the line? I've learned not to be so picky with who you align after I died once.

I continue past the weapons into the area where most of the survival skills are being taught. A girl from District Zero, Aelia (0), seems to have already amassed a following amongst the others. Six others circle around her as she says something to them. I'm considering asking to join when, out the corner of my eye, I see them.

The three Spectrus siblings stand at the Snare-Tying Station. Two others, Wolbert Toonico (6) and Shade's once lover, Daisy Lilac (11). There's no hesitation in my mind as I approach them, knowing that they've always been the Anti-Careers in the Games they've competed. And what better alliance is there, then a group of Spectri?

"You looking to join?" Shade's two different colored eyes flicker to me as I stop before them. Daisy (11) hovers over his shoulder as his brothers talk off to the left. Wolbert is busy making a snare.

"Depends. You're the Anti-Careers, right?" Don't look too weak. Don't try to beg your way in.

"Guess so. Always called ourselves that." I notice his eyes dart towards where the Careers jostle amongst themselves. Is he worried that they outnumber him by so many?

"Well, I was apart of the 399th Anti-Careers. Thought I'd join up again."

"What do you have to offer us?" Frade (7) shoves his way past before his brother can respond. His jeering eyes take me in, trying to measure me up against the others. Apparently, I'm lacking. "You don't look too might to me."

"And you look like a squat little troll," My mouth responds before my brain does, and I regret the words instantly. Insulting the leaders brother is no way to get accepted into an alliance. Frade's eyes glint cruelly, his lip curling into a sneer. It's weird. He's such a deadly killer, yet he's so very scrawny and short. He's barely taller than I am!

"Frade, what did I say about frightening off all of our recruits?" Shade interrupts his younger brother just as it appears he was about to give a barbed retort.

"If they're frightened by me, then I don't think they deserve to be in our alliance. I ain't the scariest thing in the Games!" His words are hostile, but he relents. And with that short interaction, I see how it is between the two. Frade doesn't like Shade. But he respects him. And it's that respect that keeps Frade in line. A good thing too, because Frade seems like a very bad person to be around when he steps out of line.

"Are you kidding, bro?" The third brother, Blade, who is as normal looking as the others are abnormal, steps forward with a smile crossing his face. "You're like the ugliest thing here! 'Course they'd be afraid of you!" He punches Frade in the shoulder with a joking smile. Frade rolls his eyes.

"Or maybe it's just your blandness that scares them off," He smirks. "Sometimes it's like you just disappear into the wall. Transparent like."

Blade goes to reply, when Daisy cuts him off. "Can you guys stop goofing around? We have a possible recruit here!" All their eyes swivel back to me. Finally. I was beginning to think that I had been forgotten.

"So, Misty," Shade peers into me with his fascinating eyes. "Are you afraid?"

My answer is immediate. "No. Of course not. I fear nothing." Other than large animals.

Shade nods slowly, not speaking. The others watch me in silence, their eyes quietly making up their own minds on me. Personally, I like them all. Except Frade. He is not someone you can trust. Turn your back on him for one moment and he'll stick a knife in it. He's the ultimate opportunist.

Finally, Shade speaks.

"Then welcome to the alliance. We need people like you."

Jake Locketback (District 1)
I sigh loudly as I sit down on the ground, watching the chaos before me. It's been a full half hour since the training session started, and still no Career has yet to pick up a weapon. We've been too preoccupied with other, far more trivial, matters.

First off, figuring out who exactly was a Career. Dozens of people from all four Career Districts converged on one spot and trying to sort out who's who took a considerable amount of time. This was made harder by the fact that people who'd usually be part of the Careers have opted not to join us. Like the group now calling themselves "Splinter Careers". There's four of them, and their leader is the sister of last year's, and my year, Victor. Carmine Morrisa (2). The three others aren't anyone particularly threatening. Two midcard former Careers, Josool (C) and Zoey (13), and a new tribute, Ena (2).

These weren't the only ones not to join, Capitol tribute Mahogany (C) had chosen to align with us only to leave ten minutes in to go help form a alliance consisting of mostly girls. Everyone promptly forgot she was here. Or at least they pretended to. There were others who left or never sided with us, but I honestly can't keep track of everything.

We still had more to do after this, where we had to go through the Career recruits. We didn't receive as much as I thought we would. There's only five, Todd (0), Seth (5), Trent (11), Luxray (14), and Dean (14). Still, this wasn't what took up most of our time. That was everyone else foolishly arguing over who should be leader.

I sigh again. The others seem to think that shouting louder will get them leadership, a really stupid concept in my idea.

"This is annoying, huh?" Cullinan (1) sits down beside me, shaking his head at the chaos still going on.

"Yeah. Annoying and stupid. We should be spending this time training!"

"You could do that right now," Cullinan says, surprising me. "You don't have to wait out this nonsense."

I grimace. "Not likely. They'd get angry at me not taking this matter seriously, and excommunicate me or something." I'm remembering why I killed Fenrir in my first Games. Having to listen to some idiot who thinks he should be leader because he has bigger muscles is just plain stupid.

Cullinan laughs. "I would take that risk. They can't afford to kick people out. Not with everyone else targeting them."

I like Cullinan. Better than my other allies, at any rate. While he's big and muscular, he's not a meat head. He understands things like nuance and tact, something guys like Cole (1) and Elvis (1) can't comprehend. "Why aren't you training then?" I ask, genuinely curious. "If you're not afraid of being reprimanded?"

"My hands, remember?" He pulls them up now, wiggling the half-finished fingers there. "I could hardly even hold a weapon!"

"Oh. Right."

"Usually people recoil when I shove my broken hands in their face!" Cullinan laughs again but I don't. Bad memories of people being blown to bits, or having their bodies mutilated during the Rebellion a few year ago have come back to my mind. Hard to laugh when you remember that.

"I've seen worse," Is all I say.

"Everyone gather 'round!"

Elvis calls out before Cullinan can reply. The large, pony-tailed boy steps onto a nearby crate to further lift himself above the crowd. On his side's stand Cole and Chloe (2), the three main aggregators for the leader position.

"You figure it out?" Simple Todd grunts from where he lounges on the floor.

"Yes we have!" Cole answers him with a flourishing smile. He's in a good mood, so he must have gotten what he wanted out of the deal.

"We have decided upon a three leader hierarchy," Chloe continues for him. She looks far less pleased. "And that means the three of us will have joint leadership."

No arguments from the others. Apparently they're as fed up with this nonsense as I am. Elvis takes back over. "And we'll have three groups. I'll lead the male All-Stars, Cole will lead the new male tributes, and Chloe will lead the females." So that's why Chloe is so upset. There's only four female Careers, including herself. Cole has five guys to lead, Cullinan one of them, and Elvis has the rest. Which is six others and myself. I think it's a bit needlessly complicated, but I'm not going to argue.

I'm just glad that we finally get to train.

Amethystia Thall (District 7)
My fingers scrabble together as I attempt to tie a knot, a rather difficult proposition when your fingers are as thick as mine. I've already abandoned several different types of knots, all of them far too complex for me to achieve. Beside me, Camiren (8) is on the most elaborate knot they have, making short work of it. Her fingers blur as she works, further tying the rope into elaborate and elegant knots. I soon stop my own work and just watch her go.

"Amazing," Kennedy (6) breathes as she also stops to watch. Camiren doesn't pay us mind until she finishes, wherein she holds the newly knotted rope up with a smile.

"What do you think?" She asks with a slow smile.

"Cool!" I say with a grin. Camiren beams happily. I don't know why so many people seem to dislike her. She's kind, happy, and even quite funny when you get her going. Sure, she comes off as a bit regal and her hair color is a bit weird, but so is mine. That's not enough reason for everyone to avoid her like the plague! I think I remember Kennedy saying something about her being an Idylwyld. Whatever the heck that is.

"I wish I was that skilled in something," Kennedy murmurs quietly.

"I'm sure there's something that you're great at," Camiren replies with a generous smile. "Everyone has something."

"I guess I'm a good healer. But that's not exactly a skill that you want to ever have to use..."

"You're going to die, Idylwyld!"

A harsh voice interrupts our conversation and muscular dark-skinned boy steps up to the station. Wess Cornstob (11). His emerald eyes are furious slits as he glares at Camiren, completely ignoring me and Kennedy. "Your family has harmed too many people! It's about time they felt the pain!" He takes a threatening step forward, his hands fists at his side. My own hand curls around the rope in my hand, ready to leap in and protect my friend if necessary. But Wess has no desire to attack. He just spits angrily and tells Camiren that her time is coming before turning away and slipping into a throng of passing tributes.

"He was from the 300th Games," I say a full minute after he has left. "How does he know about your family?"

Camiren doesn't answer. Her soft eyes are cast downwards as she plays with the rope in her hands. Kennedy's mouth works but no words are said. We don't know what to say. Sorry? For what? We didn't do anything. Neither of us are exactly the paradigm of social interactions, so we just wait and watch.

"My family is very old," Camiren finally breaks the long silence herself. "And they...they've hurt a lot of people. But I'm not like them. I rebelled and...well, yeah. Just that."

"You should tell everyone that then!" I tell her. Kennedy nods enthusiastically with my words. "Then they'll stop targeting you!"

"They won't listen. They'd never believe me."

I want to disagree with her, but...I've seen how Wess and the others have reacted to her. With volatility and anger. They would probably snap her neck before hearing her out. The very thought makes me incredibly anger. Camiren is a nice girl! They shouldn't hate her just because of what her family has done!

"But enough about that," Camiren says with a small smile. "Let's get back to training. I want to try my hand at making a hammock."

The three of us get up and travel across the open gymnasium towards the hammock making station. After our encounter with Wess, I keep my eyes open for anyone else who may be throwing us nasty looks. There's more of them then I'd like, and I suddenly feel fearful for both of my friends. Will they target Kennedy and myself for aligning with Camiren?

"Hey there!"

Two kids greet us at the station, both already at work on their own hammock. District 13. They smile at us and invite us to work with them, or one does. The boy never looks up from where he sits, hands folded and eyes half-closed. It's like he's trying hard to remember something, but it keeps slipping away from him.

"Oh. Umm. Hi..." Kennedy shuffles her feet nervously, not really the talkative type.

"My name is Camiren! And this is Kennedy and Amethystia!" At least one of us knows how to interact with people. Camiren keeps a smile on her face as she introduces us, probably happy that the kids don't want her dead.

"I'm Jenessa," The girl says, and I notice that her nose is as oversized as mine. "And this is Doug." She gestures at the boy, who still doesn't look up.

"Hi Jenessa and Doug!" I say, biting my lip as soon as the words are out. That was a stupid thing to say.

"You two looking for more allies?" Camiren asks casually. Hmm? Is she trying to find more people for our alliance? I look the two up and down, vaguely recalling that they were from both the 326th and 327th Games. They were a pretty smart duo, probably would have won too if Frade (7) wasn't so hell bent on murdering Doug.

"Yeah, actually. We were just--" Jenessa turns to tap Doug on the back of his head. "Hey! Doug! These girls want to align with us!"

"Oh. Oh, what?" The boy blinks up at us, confused.

"They want to join with us. Their names are--"

"Oh. I heard their names," Doug waves his hand dismissively. He did? I hadn't thought he was paying any attention to our conversation. "They're, Kennedy, Camiren, and Amethystia, right?"

Jenessa nods and says something else to him when Kennedy taps on my shoulder. "Can we talk?" She asks. "All of us? Alone."

Seeing the look on her face, Camiren nods quickly. Telling the District 13 tributes to hang on, she leads the two of us to the corner of room. Nearby, Jet (8) slips and falls off the gauntlets. "What's wrong?" I'm the first to speak.

Kennedy entwines her finger through a stray strand of her hair. "I...I don't think we should accept them."

"Why not?" Camiren asks as I look back to them right now. Jenessa seems to be scolding Doug about something.

"It's just..." Kennedy shrugs helplessly. "I don't want more people. It makes me feel uneasy."

"But we need them," I say without thinking. "We'd get slaughtered by anyone with just the three of us. Safety in numbers."

"Amethystia is right," Camiren backs me up. "We need them."

Kennedy sees that our minds are made up. Shrugging again, she relents. "Fine...but I'm no good with small talk." We head back to our new allies. Jenessa is thrilled to know that they're in. Doug is...stoic. He doesn't say a word, rather just nodding silently and going back to working on the hammock. Jenessa tells us he just has a lot on his mind. "Been that why since the Death Duel..." She speaks quietly, watching her friend with worried eyes. "He hasn't told me what's bothering him, but it has to be pretty serious." I have a pretty serious concern too.

It's called staying alive.

Aelia Freedome (District 0)
I watch Amaya (14) as she sits at the foot of the table with Ganta (12). She jabbers away, talking excitedly about something I can't hear. Ganta, for his part, just sits there and nods, barely ever getting a word in. I don't trust him. And neither should Amaya. He left her to die just so he could save himself. He doesn't deserve her admiration or her love.

"You really don't like him, do you?" Annabeth (3) startles me, sliding her tray full of food onto the table and sitting beside me. The blonde girl was one of the first I recruited, someone I purposely asked to join. She's smart, smarter than the rest. The perfect ally.

"No," I answer with a shake of my head. "I don't. And it's not baseless, I have a very valid reason for my dislike." Annabeth just nods. For some reason, I think she's silently judging me. "We can't trust him. He's already shown that."

"Maybe so. But Amaya trusts him. Don't you think that should count for something?"

"Amaya is whimsical," I say pragmatically. "A hopeless romantic who believes in true love and thinks everything is like a storybook."

"You don't give her enough credit. She's smarter than she looks," Annabeth sips her drink, watching my eyes as I grimace at Amaya laughing at something Ganta said.

"It's not that I think she's stupid. It's just that I don't think her mind works right when Ganta is concerned. People tend to trust the people they love more than they should." I've learned much in my life. More than I'd ever let on.

"Can't argue with that," Annabeth let's her eyes drift off to where Aisha (8) and Amore (6), two others in our alliance, come walking into the cafeteria, and quickly get themselves a tray. Most of the other alliances haven't arrived yet. We were early. "Good thinking on recruiting those two," Annabeth inclines her head at them. "They're a strong pair."

"Amica recruited them," I say absently, still trying to read Ganta's expression. What is he thinking? Is he truly sorry for abandoning Amaya or is he just lying to her so our alliance protects him?

"Good job recruiting her, then. She's a little treasure trove of surprises."

I turn to look for the girl, finding her eating at the table beside ours. Her sunset orange hair is tied up in two ponytails, and her her golden eyes gleam as she hungrily digs into her meal. "She was an easy sell," I say to Annabeth. "It was convincing her shadow that we could be trusted that was difficult." Anissa (1), an amazon of a girl who stands over six feet tall, stands beside Amica (14) right now, having already eaten. She looks just like her friend, same sunset hair, same golden eyes, both even have tan skin. It's just that Amica is more like a playful golden retriever while Anissa is a fierce Doberman.

"You're two peas in a pod," Annabeth says without looking up from her bowl of noodles. "Both hellbent on protecting their friends while failing to look after yourself."

I let the comment pass, thinking of something. "Annabeth..."

"Aelia," She mimics my tone.

"Would you have forgiven Percy, if he had left you to die?"

She stops scraping her bowl and looks up slowly. Her blue eyes seem to be in another place, somewhere far off. I squirm in my seat, feeling a little guilty for name dropping her dead love like that. "Annabeth, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have--"

"No. No, it's fine," Annabeth let's out a shaky breath and smiles at me. "I...I'll get over it. I have to." I nod, still feeling bad. I know how I'd feel if someone were to randomly bring up my dead friends... "I would."

"Huh?"

"I would have forgiven Percy. If he felt guilty, and was truly sorry, I'd forgive him. Because everyone deserves another chance. Especially someone you love."

Annabeth stands up and departs, her tray empty. I think I saw tears glistening in her eyes. I shouldn't have mentioned Percy. But still...her words have given me something to ponder. Something to consider.

"Aelia!"

A giggling voice has me spinning in my seat. Amaya. A wide smile is on her face, her blonde hair seemingly aglow with joy. Ganta stands beside her, avoiding my eye.

"Oh. Hi, Amaya." I ignore Ganta. Two can play that game.

"I really like our alliance!" Amaya is seemingly oblivious of the tension between us, or maybe she's just trying to ignore it. "You've done a good job!"

"It wasn't just me. Everyone has played a part." Except Ganta. He just sits there and distracts Amaya from training.

"Oh, I know. But guess what?" Her eyes sparkle playfully.

"What?"

"Ganta says he could get some of his District partners to join us!" Oh, does he? I glance at the dark-haired boy, not surprised to find that he's still avoiding my gaze. We've been at ends ever since our first encounter, when he asked me to teach him how to wield a spear. I declined. I want to teach my allies as much as possible, but I refuse to teach him anything that could be used against me.

"You think they'll join?" I ask Amaya instead of Ganta.

"Probably. I mean, maybe. A few could..." Ganta stumbles over his words, still fixated on his shoes. I doubt he'd be able to convince a lobotomized hobo to join his alliance with this kind of stumbling. Still, I just nod and tell him to have anyone he can convince to speak with me. I'm not expecting to anyone listen to his pitch.

Amaya waves goodbye to me and the two of them turn to walk away when I grab her elbow and pull her back. She blinks at me in surprise but doesn't say anything before I speak. "He's not Sean, Amaya," I tell her in a low voice. Ganta hasn't noticed she's stopped walking with him. "So don't try to treat him like he is."

"I know that!" She yanks her arm free, staring up at me with annoyed eyes.

"Maybe. But just remember that you're putting more than just your own life at risk by trusting him. You're risking the whole alliance's lives too."

"Ganta's not going to get us killed, Aelia! He's not some monster!" Amaya turns and walks away, her hair whipping over her shoulders. I watch her, afraid of the rift that Ganta is sowing between us.

"I hope you're right, Amaya," I say to myself as I watch her go. "I hope you're right."

Harvest Cropper (District 9)
Everything breaks down into chaos as people rush for the cafeteria, the stronger shoving past the weak on their way towards the buffet of food laid out before them. Trent (11), a Career recruit, shoves Wocky (7) and causes the smaller boy to drop his tray, his food smearing on the linoleum. Wocky snarls angrily while Trent just laughs and flips him off. The other Careers hoot with laughter when he sits down beside them.

"Good thing we ate early," Julian (13), my lone ally mutters as he sees this. I like this sandy haired kid. When I first met him, running the Gauntlet rather unsuccessfully, he invited me to try and do better. I failed on the first step, and we both got a good laugh out of that. We decided that we'd form an alliance right there and then. We both knew that we needed more allies though; just the two of us wouldn't last all that long.

"Yeah. These people are like animals," I reply to Julian, letting my eyes wander over the group's. Both of us ate early, but decided to hang around and see if we could spot an alliance that we'd be comfortable joining. "What about them?" I point at a trio as they sit at a table.

"No...I don't like the look of that District 3 boy. He seems...suspicious," Julian frowns.

"Okay. Them?" I point at a pair of District 9 girls as they sit down at a small table in the very back of the cafeteria.

"The big one looks like she'd eat us alive," Julian muses quietly. "Though I'd be up for it. They're your District partners after all."

Right. I remember when I tried talking with Vera (9) and she stared right through me. Plasma (9) just told me how bad my fashion sense was. I don't know why I pointed them out. The both of us continue to try and decide who to approach. The Careers are out of the question, of course. So are the Anti-Careers; neither of us desire the targets that'd make us. Julian suggests that large alliance compromised mostly of girls, but he doesn't really seem all that interested in the notion, and I'm not too fond of it either. I come up with joining the McGranger's and Fawn, but Julian isn't keen on the idea. "Madeva and Fawn would just watch us like hawks, expecting us to kill Billy at any moment. I don't think it's a good idea..."

Julian never just shoots an idea down, he always just says what he thinks and let's me voice my own opinion. So far I've always agreed with him, but I wonder what would happen if we disagreed. "Let's just get back to training," I say after a few more indecisive thoughts. "Clear our head and think more."

"Yeah, okay."

We exit the cafeteria, passing by the Career table on the way. Elvis (1) sticks his foot out and trips me, and I almost knock myself unconscious on the linoleum. It's embarrassing and infuriating, but I just give him a thumbs-up and continue on my way. Julian just watches me nervously. "Selfish jerks," He mutters and then looks about like he's surprised he said it.

"Yeah. They're not very nice people. But no need to anger them. Not right now." We're walking pass the elevators when we see them, sitting on the bottom step of the staircase used in the case of emergencies. Banette (8) and Johnathan (5). I tap Julian on the shoulder. "Them?" I ask, jerking a thumb in their direction.

He nods slowly. "Worth a shot."

We approach the pair. Johnathan has his hands held behind his head in a relaxed manor, and Banette has his arms crossed, his face covered by his signature black bandanna. His watery pink eyes swivel to face us. "What do you want?" He demands, his voice flat and emotionless. I remember what my escort told me, that he went absolutely nuts on the train when he saw what happened to his best friend, Shuppet Jorravaskr. Banette, apparently, beat two Peacekeepers unconscious and nearly strangled a third to death before his escort smashed a bottle over his head.

Maybe this isn't such a good idea.

"Umm..." I lose my words as I stare at the gloomy figure and his giant friend. Johnathan raises an eyebrow.

"Weird time to lose your mind. Especially considering the two of you stopped to stare at us before approaching."

Oh. They saw that? I didn't think they did. Julian and I share an uneasy look and then he shrugs. "We were...hoping to join your alliance." He's nervous, it shows in his words. Hopefully Banette takes that the right way. Johnathan (5) seems to be thinking hard when his friend speaks.

"Oh? Do you now? And why the hell should I trust you? Hmm?" Anger and hatred radiates in his eyes. Hatred for the world around him. The only people he ever cared for are either dead or sitting beside him. He's kinda like me, in that respect.

"You can trust me," Julian speaks quietly, his icy blue eyes fixed on his shoes. "You can trust me, because I have also lost someone. My mother was a freak who was obsessed with the Games. She tried to make my little sister into a...a Victor. She changed her. I don't know how, but she did. Even after my older sister murdered my mother, Jolee still wasn't the same. She started hurting herself, and one day...one day she hurt herself beyond saving. And I sat there and told her a story as she died in my arms. That is why you can trust me!" Julian looks up, and I see the pain there. So much pain and suffering, loss and heartbreak. There's more hurt in there, then even in Banette's eyes. They're both the same. So much loss in their lives, yet they haven't let it change them. They haven't lost themselves.

"Guess I can." That's all Banette has to say. We just rest in silence, unshed years gleaming in Julian's eyes. I shift from foot to foot, feeling uneasy.

"You can trust me too," I finally say. "My parents were murdered by my Grandparents, and they forced me to volunteer or face death by their hands. And I volunteered. Because I want to die in my own way, not because they willed it."

Johnathan scoffs. "Man. The three of you have had very painful lives!"

"Why didn't you just kill your grandparents?" Banette asks casually, like it's a completely normal question. "Smother them in their sleep or something?"

"I'm no murderer," I say simply.

Banette laughs. It's short and quick, a momentary change from his usual demeanour. "Well, I have some advice for you, my new allies," I exchange a excited look with Julian upon hearing the word. We're in! "You'd better learn to be a murderer real quick," Banette's words drown out my initial excitement. "Because in the Hunger Games, you're one of two things. You know what they are?"

Julian and I speak at the same time. "What?"

Banette stands, cracking his knuckles and staring at us with his unusual pink eyes. "You're either a murderer...or a corpse."

Stario Lucaren (District 6)
The knife feels awkward in my hand, unnatural. Like a fish out of water, a bird without wings, I don't belong with a weapon, I don't belong here. Dozens of kids surround me, practicing with spears and swords, throwing knives and axes. Some wrestle with trainers, other forsake the knowledge of their elders and learn things on their own. All of them are stronger than me.

I slash at the dummy, my knife barely knicking the thick wood of it. Hardly a scratch. I want to cry, but I don't. Everyone would see my weakness, Mark me as an easy target. I don't want that. I don't want anyone to come after me.

I drive the knife, tip forward, into the dummies shoulder. It sinks in with a solid Thwack!. I have more than a little difficulty pulling it back out.

"Oh...you do look most appetizing!"

A feline purr, a hand touching my shoulder. I leap in fright, my heart hammering a thousand beats a minute. The girl stares at from under her black and orange hair, cat-like red eyes watching me. A lazy smile flickers across her face. Trick Treat. One of the most brutal and savage tributes here.

"Get away from me!" I hold my knife up and point it at her. She just laughs. We both know I couldn't do a thing with it.

"Oh? And if I don't?"

She sidles closer, but I backup, still waving my weapon at her. "I'm warning you!" I remember some of the stories about her. I don't know if they're true, I don't want to know. But they've always terrified me, and now, seeing her so close...

"I'm wondering how I'll kill you," She purrs, ignoring my empty threats. "Snap your neck, maybe? Stomp on your back and break your spine? Rip off your eyelids? Bite off your tongue? Maybe I'll take a knife, like the one you're holding, and slowly filet you. I'd keep your blood, of course. It'd taste so sweet..."

Tears form in my eyes, wild, unadulterated terror builds in my heart. She could do those things to me, any of them, and I wouldn't be able to stop her. I'm too weak. Not strong enough. Not brave enough. Trick is saying something about eating my heart, and I just snap.

"Enough!"

I lung without thinking, without realizing what I'm doing. I see the bloodlust in Trick's eyes turn to surprise, and the terror as my knife sinks into her chest. A small gasp escapes her mouth, she looks down to see the blood bubbling free, staining my knife and hand. "You...little ...bastard..."

I rip the knife out and she falls. There's no grace, no regalia as she slumps to the cold linoleum floor. Her blood stains the tiles, mars it's beauty. My entire body is shaking. I can't stop it. I can't believe what I just did.

I killed Trick Treat.

I killed her in training.

Before the Games even begun.

I will pay for it.

Solar Energy (District 0)
I hear shouts from the other tributes as they begin to gather in a circle around one of the weapon stations. A staff member rushes over and immediately calls for help as he pushes his way through the throng of tributes.

What's happened?

I deposit my oaken spear back onto the rack and slowly drift across the gymnasium. All around me, others begin to do the same. "What's happening?" Axel from District 7 wonders aloud as we reach the back of the throng.

"He killed her!" A kid exlaims from the front. "She's dead! He killed Trick Treat!"

What?! Kids gasp in shock beside me, a few smile grimly as they realize one of the biggest threats is now dead. I don't believe it, can't comprehend. Trick is dead? Who killed her? And why?

I slip through the pile of kids, ignoring someone who tries to order me back. I find a surprising sight.

Trick lies flat on the floor, a small wound in her chest gushing with crimson blood. A surprised gasp is frozen upon her face, her red eyes staring blankly into the ceiling. Little, unassuming Stario (6) stands over her, a small, bloodstained knife clutched in his hand. He's saying something to the staff attendant, something about how he panicked.

"Outta the way!"

An armed retinue of Peacekeepers have arrived, no doubt alerted my the rest of the staff. They begin to shoo the other tributes away while one of them approaches Stario. "What the hell didja do, boy?" He asks the frightened kid.

"I didn't mean to! I-I-...panicked! S-she was threatening me, and I just didn't know what to do!" Stario is almost incoherent as he desperately tries to explain his actions. I feel sorry for the boy, have a sad feeling stir inside of my chest. He just wasn't able to cope with the pressure. He snapped, like many wish to do, but don't because of their fear.

"You realize how grave of an offense this is?" The Peacekeeper demands. I believe that even he doesn't know how to properly address the situation. What do you do with someone who murders before the Games? Is there even a precedent for this?

"No! I mean, yes!" Stario babbles his words, crying and thrashing about wildly. I almost choke on my pity.

"Enough. You bring shame to Your family with that kind of crying!" Llewellyn appears at my side, staring at Stario with cold eyes.

"Sir, what are we to do?" The Peacekeeper seems happy to have someone else to make the decisions.

"I just talked with the President," Llewellyn says, stroking his beard.

"And?"

"He wants an example made out of the boy."

We stand in a single form line, all ninety of us. The stations have closed down, Trick's body has been removed and the blood washed away. The only reminder of what happened is before us, where Stario kneels.

Behind him, Llewellyn and the Peacekeepers stand at the ready. Their eyes show us all we need to know. This is going to be a statement, a message to us tributes that we're not above the rules laid down by the Capital. That no one is.

"Tributes of the 400th Annual Hunger Games," Llewellyn addresses us formally, like today's opening speech. "You've all been told the rules, told that you cannot touch another tribute until the Games begin, and that there'd be dire consequences for anyone who chose to flout this rule." His eyes scan the line, meeting some of our own gazes. Most look away, I stare right back at him, forcing him to be the one that turns. "But, Stario Lucaren," He gestures to the boy at his feet. Tears trickle down his face, his hands and feet are bound. There will be no escape. "Decided that our rules did not apply to him. He felt that he was above the law, so he decided to kill another tribute to try and earn himself an advantage."

"No!" Stario interrupts with a shout, his voice brimming with emotion. "I didn't! I was only scared! I panic--"

He breaks off into a muffled scream as a Peacekeeper forces a gag into his mouth. I hear someone in the line give a whimper, another laughs. What savage animals we have among us.

"Stario Lucaren," Llewellyn continues like nothing happened, ignoring the outburst. "Believed he had special rights. Well, he did not. Today he will face the full consequences of his action." Llewellyn did not come up with this speech on his own. He's being fed his lines, word by word. President Stryker wants us to know just whose in charge.

"Sergeant Porter!" A stocky Peacekeeper steps forward, Llewellyn hands him a black handgun. "Handle Mister Lucaren's punishment."

I bite back my shout as Porter aims the gun at the back Stario's head. Tears slide down the boy's face as he realizes what is about to happen. He keeps his eyes open, and they go down the line, pleading for help. When they meet mine, I look away.

The gun fires.

I am ashamed. I could stare Llewellyn in the eyes, make a silent challenge. But I could not help Stario. I left him to die. His only crime being a frightened boy who killed a sub-human monster. I feel powerless. Just as the Capitol intended.

"This will be the punishment of any tribute who lies a hand on another during the rest of the training period," Llewellyn turns back to us, the living tributes. They do not move Stario's body, they want us to see it. "And for any other serious infraction. The Capitol has rules, and you must follow those rules. Belligerents will not be tolerated. Understood?"

"Yes, sir." The crowd answers him.

"Good. Then consider today's training complete. You are dismissed."

The line breaks apart. Some go straight for the elevators, others stand still with wide eyes, shocked at what they saw. A few laugh. And still others just accept it for what it is; Just another day under the rule of the Capitol.

Luna Fern (District 6)
When my alarm rings, I don't move.

I lay in bed, listening to it as it futility attemps to rouse me. My limbs feel like iron, too heavy to move. My head throbs like a bomb has gone off inside it. The fan in the bathroom makes a gentle humming noise that echoes in the background.

How did I wind up back here?

The first time I went into the Games, I was comfortable in knowing that I'd never need to repeat this process, that I was one and done. But now? Now, I am once more trapped in the Capitol's little game. Just a pawn on their board. Stario's execution was the breaking point.

I liked the guy, even though I never really spoke with him. He was funny, but not boisterous. Kind, but not obtrusive with it. He was a good person. And the Capitol murdered him for doing what they taught us.

A screeching voice breaks my quiet reflection, calling for me. I ignore it for now. I remember my mother, and how she was nearly killed by the Capitol. Instead, she was just turned into an Avox. A far worse fate, if you ask me. Death is preferable to being a slave.

"Luna! Don't make me come in there!"

Calpurnia. That woman is insufferable. I wish a train had run her over. Can't lie here any longer, she'll ferret me out and drag me if I don't. Stupid woman.

So I roll out of bed and get myself dressed, feeling absolutely miserable. What's there to look forward to? Dying in the Games? I want to be positive, I really do, but it's hard when you know that death is your only future. Makes everything gloomy.

"There you are!" Calpurnia scolds me when I emerge from my room. She has a gigantic, midnight blue peacock feather attached to her head and looks absolutely ridiculous. "I thought I'd need to wake you myself! You have terrible protocol senses!"

"Oh, just stuff it!" I barge pass her on my way to the dining room.

"My word!"

She follows me into the kitchen, where I deposit myself in a engraved steel chair at an car shaped table. A miniature train set runs along the ceiling. District themed.

"Hey, Luna!" Amore (6) greets me with a cheerful smile. Far too cheerful, considering what happened yesterday. I just mumble a greeting and dig into the plate that was waiting for me.

"Know how they're spinning Trick and Stario's deaths to the rest of the country?" Wolbert (6) asks me from the foot of the table.

"I don't want to know, but tell me anyway." Gonna be something that looks good. Can't have the truth getting out.

"They're saying that as part of a twist, that they had the top two strongest tributes fight the weakest ones," Wolbert says, and I shut my eyes. Of course. Now everyone thinks that some weakling had a surprise upset and beat Trick, while Stario was killed by a favourite. Damn bastards just made more hype for themselves.

"Think they'll stage fake fights to show everyone?" Blade (6) asks without looking up from his plate.

"Wouldn't put it pass them " I grunt. The Capitol would do anything to make themselves appear strong.

"Why not just revive them again?" Amore asks while rubbing an apple on her shirt.

I shrug. "Probably takes time. That'd be my guess, at least." I don't imagine it's a simple process, by any means. I couldn't think of what type of materials they'd need for it. "And that wouldn't be setting a very good precedent. Think about it: You break the rules, they kill you and then revive you? No punishment then."

"Makes sense," Wolbert agrees and we eat our meal in silence.

Chloe Black (District 2)
Ding!

The elevator opens and the six of us step out into the gymnasium. We're one of the first to arrive, only Districts 1, 4, and 7 are here. "Good! They cleaned that whiners body up!" Pansy (2) tosses her crimson locks over her shoulder as she charges for the rest of the Careers. She's right. The little whimpering sob's body has been moved and the floor scrubbed clean. One less opponent for me!

When I reach the others, Elvis (1) and Cole (1) strike up a conversation and drift away from the group. It could have been coincidence, but I don't trust them enough to believe that. They purposely gave me command of the least amount of Careers, leaving me with only the females. "Sexist pricks," I mutter, watching them with venomous eyes. They'll get theirs, when the time is right.

"Hey, baby!"

I resist punching a wall as Trident (4) appears at my shoulder. Blonde, muscular, and tan, I'd normally find him handsome. But this guy is a complete tool, an idiot, and flirts with every girl within a five mile radius. "What do you want?" I snap at him. "I'm busy, you know!"

"Oh. I know. Being leader has to be pretty stressful, huh?" He leans against the wall and tries to look charming. It doesn't work.

"I'm not your leader, didn't you hear? Elvis is in charge of you."

"Pfah. He's not my leader," Trident waves a hand around as he speaks.

"Hmm?" Interesting. I never gave thought to the possibility that others may not have liked the deal we ended up with. "Then who do you think is leader?"

"You, of course!"

I'm aware that part of this is just pointless flirting, he thinks that he can woo me with trite flattery, but I can use him to my advantage. Bring him into my fold so that my strength continues to grow. "I'm glad someone sees it that way!" I bat my eyelashes and know immediately that I have him. Hook, line and sinker. "Does anyone else think like that?" I ask him, because he seems to always be drifting through our large alliance, speaking with just about everyone.

"A few. Some dislike you. Pansy in particular."

I snort derisively. I knew that crimson bitch couldn't be trusted! But no matter, I have the power. All she has is herself. "Think you could get anyone on my side?" Trident is suave, a master with words. He probably would have managed to swoon any of us girls if he didn't insist on trying to get us all. I'm sure he could swing someone to my side.

Trident stretches his arms, a cocky smile spreading across his face. "You recruiting me to your cause?"

"Obviously." Don't have much of a choice, at this point. Cole (1) and Elvis (1) already have too much influence, and they'd bump me off the first chance they get. Pansy, is also a problem. The girl is use to being leader. She won't listen to a word I say. A problem, when she's one of four girls I'm supposed to be leading.

"I believe I could get a some on your side," Trident grins, happy that I'm forced to rely on him.

"Who?"

"Ryan, maybe Dylan. Definitely Olympic, he's spitting mad he wasn't made one of the male leaders."

"Jake and Cullinan?" I ask. Those two have become fast friends.

"Possibly. It'd take some convincing, though. They don't have much initiative."

It's not the ideal situation, but it's better than nothing. I give Trident the affirmative and lounge back, watching the other tributes as they begin to arrive in the gym. I'm already trying to make some big moves, and that's good. You only win the Games with a long-term strategy, not by being lucky.

Amica Belle (District 14)
"Our alliance is pretty big, huh?" I sit on my knees, watching as Anissa (1) swings a heavy battleax around, loping off dummies heads like it was nothing.

"Yeah." Anissa grunts and slams the heavy polearm into the last standing dummy. There's a massive Thwack! and the dummies wooden chest splits open. We got three new recruits this morning, Luna (6), Freya (8), and Ellis (10). At least two of them were motivated by...by what happened to Stario yesterday. It was horrible. His face was in my dreams, crying for mercy as the Capitol executed him. Anissa was stone silent when it happened, anger pouring off her in waves. It's this anger that she now channels into her training.

"Let's try another weapon," My friend drops the axe and swipes a white towel across her face. "I want to try everything. Never know what weapon you'll have in the Games."

"Okay."

Honestly, I'm not too fond of training. It's not that I'm bad at it, Anissa taught me well enough when she was in District 14, but rather that I don't like imagining how I'll use these skills to kill people. Anissa says that I have sentimental streak. I just think that she's better at doing what you have to do to survive.

"Here, try this," Anissa pulls a baton off a rack and tosses it to me. The smooth, silver object feels cold in my hands. "Not particularly lethal, but easy to conceal. Should be able to pull it out in a pinch."

She walks off to go practice sparring with a trainer and I decide to try my hand at a quaint little test. There's a wooden pole in the center of a few pads, and when the trainer hits a button, small targets will pop out from the pole. It's my job to hit as many of them as possible. You have to keep moving, because the targets follow no set pattern and always pop out on different sides.

I'm quick on my feet, and do well at first. Striking each target only a few seconds after it appears, but soon it begins to pick up the pace and go faster and faster. My swings become uncoordinated and wild, missing the targets completely. Eventually, a whistle signals the end of the exercise.

"Good job," Anissa says to me when I step back. She has already defeated the trainer in sparring and stopped to watch the last few minutes of my attempt.

"Got too quick for me," I pant and bend over to collect my breath. I watch a few Careers lifting weights nearby, and think that I could do better. But then Olympic (C) and Trent (11), two obscenely muscular guys, take their turns. Both pick up the heaviest weight in the room and lift it like it was nothing. I'm astounded. I mean, I'm pretty strong myself, working with mutts all day requires great strength, but I'm nowhere near those guys level. They're beasts!

Anissa follows my gaze, a small frown forming on her face. I know that look. She's considering going over there and trying to pull off the same stunt, maybe even make it look easier. I don't think it'll work, but before I can say so something else catches Anissa's eye.

Ganta (12) is walking across the gym, closely followed by two of his District partners. Tiny, little Salem (12), and nondescript Falk (12). "Looks like he convinced someone after all," Anissa says, bringing up the fact that Ganta had promised to recruit some of his District partners. "Come on. Let's see what Aelia thinks."

We follow the procession across the gym, over to where Aelia is showing Mahogany (C) and Freya (8) how to make a shelter. Our leader looks up from where she was tying sticks together with some lashing and stares at Ganta in surprise. Evidently she didn't think he'd come through with his promise. "You got them," She says simply.

"I got them." Ganta seems a bit unsure of himself, his two friends look even more uncomfortable. Falk hops from foot to foot, while Salem keeps glancing at Aelia and the wings on Mahogany.

"Well, welcome to the alliance!" Aelia senses their discomfort and shakes their hands, telling them both that they're welcome here.

"What made you two want to join?" Anissa interjects herself into the conversation, as brash as usual. She looks rather cold right now, but she'll warm up to them soon enough. She always does.

"I wanted to stick it to the snooty Careers," Salem answers right away. She has that funny accent the people up in the northeast of Panem have. "Woulda joined the Anti's, but I feel that's more of a family affair. Ya know?" I nod. The Spectri and their lose friends make up most of that alliance.

"What about you, uh, kid?" Anissa asks Falk, forgetting his name.

"It's Falk," He supplies it readily, not offended at all. "And to be honest, I just want a large alliance to protect me." It's a rather selfish goal, but I respect his honesty. I feel that several others have joined for the same reasons; they just didn't say so outright. Anissa wrinkles her nose, but doesn't say anything. It's her sense of pride that make her feel that way, I'd bet.

"It is nice to have you two on board," Aelia says cordially, dipping her head in respect. That's why she's leader. Along with the sense of purpose that hangs around her. "If you come with me, I'll introduce you to everyone in the alliance..."

The five of us present are introduced, and then the trip heads off to meet with the rest. I'm watching them go when Anissa taps me on the back. "Come on. Let's go shoot some arrows!"

I watch the trio walk up to Ellis (10) and Luna (6) as they come off the gauntlets, Aelia begins the introduction. Our alliance is huge, only rivaled by the Careers. I wonder if that's good or bad. I shrug it off and turn to Anissa.

"Okay. Let's go."

Curricular Lunes (District 12)
I'm being watched.

The canyon I walk through is deserted, empty of animal and people. There's no wind, no noise at all. No sign that anything is wrong. But I feel their presence. I tighten my grip on the curved sword in my hand, perhaps a poor weapon for this occasion.

The end of the canyon nears. I know they will spring their trap soon, but from where? The high clefts or the low caves? Could be either. Maybe--

There!

A grizzled blue figure appears on the top of the wall, a bow and arrow pointed right at me. I barely dodge out of the way before his first shot sinks into the dirt at my feet. Then I know it has begun.

There's still no noise, but I feel the tension kick in. A pair of holographic figures come charging out from a cave, one with a spear, the other with an axe. I make a quick assessment of the situation and swing at the axe-wielder.

My sword slices through his shoulder and there's a faint buzzing as he dematerializes before my very eyes. A whistling noise breaks me out of stupor. An arrow flies past, nicking my ear. I yelp as my ear thorns with simulated pain and I forget all about the spearman.

A spear stabs me through the chest.

"Deceased!"

A deep, videogame-like voice shouts out and everything dims. I'm left alone in complete darkness, but then a beam of light shines in my face and then the lights flicker back on, revealing a plain room filled with bland gray boxes that stood in for the canyon walls. The holographic battle is over. I lost.

"Nice try," Rosalina (0) greets me as I step out of the box.

"Their pretty graphics surprised me," I say with a grin. "Its not only holographic, it's virtual reality!"

"Yeah, I saw. The box changes to show the environment you chose the moment you began," Rosalina nods her head. "Why'd you choose a canyon?"

I shrug. "It was a good place for an ambush. I wanted to see how I'd fare."

"Did you expect to win a three-on-one ambush?" Her intelligent blue eyes twinkle with humor.

"Well, no. But I thought I'd get two, at least." I glance back at the row of boxes, three in total. Luxray (14) is in one, battling holographic soldiers upon a castle battlement, Kaneki (C) has entered mine, and is now entering what appears to be a graveyard, and other box has Caspian (3), whose still trying to beat the box on it's highest difficulty, "Immediate Death".

"How's he been doing?" I ask Rosalina as we both watch him get impaled with a javelin. The box dims, but as soon as it goes back to normal, Caspian has them restart it.

"The longest he's lasted was fifteen seconds," Rosalina replies. "And that was after thirty tries." I shake my head, dumbfounded by his stubbornness. Why does he want to beat it anyways? The box has customization options, letting you choose the battleground and number of enemies, but it also has a few preset options. The hardest being the "Immediate Death", which Caspian is addicted to.

"When do you think he's giving up?" I ask Rosalina.

She smirks. "When they throw him out. He's more stubborn then a mule!"

We both get a laugh out of that. I like Caspian, but that doesn't mean i can't laugh at his quirks. Real friends do that all the time, and...I don't think I consider these two real friends. Not when I know I'll have to kill them. But that's something I don't have to worry about right now.

"Hey, can we talk?"

A lean, boy with breathtakingly blue eyes comes up to us. My mouth opens to issue a greeting, when I recognize him as Dylan from District 4. A Career. "What do you want?" Rosalina keeps her voice neutral. More neutral than I could ever be. I'd be too soft, because he's so handsome, or too hard, because he's a Career.

"I...was thinking about making an alliance," Dylan casually creeps forward, eyes glued to the holographic box. Pretending like he's not talking with us?

"You want an alliance? With us?" Rosalina sounds skeptical.

"Yeah. But keep your voice down. They'd kill me if they found out I was doing this," Dylan is right beside US now, gazing into the box where Kaneki avoids the sweeping scythe of a hologram. "They still think I'm with them."

His face is soft, devoid of subterfuge or misdirection. I trust him immediately, knowing that he wouldn't go through this trouble just for a prank. "But why us?" I ask, ignoring the look Rosalina gives me. "What make us special?"

"I...don't know. You three seem like nice people..." Dylan's eyes drop to the floor, I sense embarrassment in his words. He really is very shy.

"Three? So you know Caspian is aligned with us?" Rosalina has a harsh edge to her voice, so I nudge her in the shoulder. It's not every day you get a Career District tribute volunteering to help you.

"Yeah. He's the one who keeps getting himself massacred, right?" He points out the box where Caspian is getting bombarded with a hail of spears and arrows.

"Yeah. That's him."

"What do think? Can I join? I'll pretend to be with the Careers, at first. But then I'll ditch them and you join up with you. Sound good?"

"Yes," I answer immediately and while Rosalina rolls her eyes, she always accepts. I think she sees the strategic value in having an insider in the Career alliance. It gives us a valuable resource, something we can use to our advantage.

"Yes!" Dylan pumps his fists in excitement, before realizing he's meant to keep a low profile. Kaneki, who has just failed inside of the holographic box, stares at him with his one eye. "Oops. Sorry." Dylan straightens himself out as a voice calls for him. "Trident! I gotta go, just remember our alliance!" Dylan rushes off, leaving us alone.

"Interesting character," Rosalina mutters. She doesn't seem completely fond of the alliance.

"You don't trust him," I realize the reason for her hesitancy.

"Of course not. This is the Hunger Games; you can't trust anyone!"

"Not even me?"

Rosalina eyes me up for a moment, before giving a small laugh. "I suppose I trust you, if only because you're too nice to stick a knife into my back." I smile. Rosalina, always keeping things practical. One of the holographic boxes open, drawing both of our attention. Caspian shoulders his way out, looking absolutely annoyed. The look on his alone tells me not to ask whether he beat the highest difficulty or not.

"Just waiting for me?" He asks when he spots us. "Not training yourselves?"

"We actually have something to tell you," Rosalina says and recounts our encounter with Dylan. Caspian doesn't speak as he listens, but the expression upon his face contorts with each word. When Rosalina finishes, he is practically sneering at us.

"Could you have not waited for me?" He's decidedly calm, though a cold anger pollutes each word. I never gave thought to the idea that Caspian may not have agreed with the alliance. "Was I so inconsequential in this decision?"

"Of course not!" I try to stem the ill will that is flooding this conversation.

"We would have asked you," Rosalina adds. "But you kept throwing yourself into a meat grinder. Kinda hard to contact you in there."

For a moment, I think I see a dangerous light in Caspian's eyes. But he blinks, and then it's gone. "I suppose you're correct," He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I was unattainable. I just hope this bloke isn't a bloody wanker." I exchange a look with Rosalina, still unused to Caspian's colourful words.

"We should get back to training," Rosalina is the first to turn away. "We only have today and tomorrow's private training sessions left before the Games."

Ziya Ashton (District 3)
The bell calls us to eat lunch and I'm the last one to come. I've already noticed the ridiculously large amount of Careers, which would be especially important against the new threat of that alliance led by Aelia (0). Plus, the Anti-Careers are still a threat, possessing a smaller, but still very capable, amount of tributes. There's also dozens of other alliances, ranging from five tributes to a simple pair. Everyone seems to think that aligning will keep them alive.

Then there's me, and other tributes like me who have no allies and no intent to gain any.

As I walk into the dining hall, I notice the two large tables, vertical from where I stand and both on either side of the room. Both have enough seats for at least twenty tributes, and each one is filled. To the left, the large table is occupied by the Careers and to the right, the Anti-Careers and Aelia's alliance share a table. Surrounding the largest tables are dozens of smaller ones, arranged in a diamond around the main tables. Each little table seems to have at least a small group of tributes sitting at it, ruining my plan of eating alone. At the very end of the room is a large, buffet-style table with abundant amounts of varying food. I make that my first destination.

I grab a tray and get in line behind Josool (C), who appears to be adding every single food item possible to his own tray. Doesn't he know he's already fat? Unfortunately, I just have to wait for him to finish, which takes forever. When he does, I fill up my own tray with all sorts of exotic foods I never got to eat on the streets of District 3. Another reason I despise Josool. He's from the Capitol and should be used to eating like a king. I'd have had more sympathy, if he was from a District.

When my tray is filled, I look around for a place to sit. The table nearest to me holds a group of five, talking quietly amongst themselves. The table on their left holds a pair from District 9. The two girls seem to be arguing over something, but it sounds pointless. My eyes glaze over several more tables until settling on one filled with three loners. Perfect. They'll have no desire to make small talk with me.

But when I sit down at the table, taking a bite out of the juicy fruit from my tray, I discover I am wrong. "Hi there!" Cassie (10) greets me with a small smile, a sandwich in her own hands. Beside her, Mizu (4) stares into her tray and Axel (7) vigorously eats a slice of pizza. I didn't know what it was called, until my mentor Axiom told me. I like the name. Pizza. It sounds funny. "Hello? You there?" Cassie frowns when I don't answer her. I shrug.

"Where else would I be?"

Axel guffaws with laughter while Cassie frowns, unsure of whether I'm making fun of her or not. Mizu keeps looking at her plate, probably a good thing. We all saw what happened when she snapped in the 399th Games. Actually, Cassie didn't. She was too busy being locked up somewhere.

"Em, I don't know? Mars?" Her answer takes me by surprise.

"Why in the world would I be on Mars?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I think about how things would be if we lived in space."

"There'd probably still be Hunger Games," Axel says with a nod of his head. "And all the planets would be Districts, and..."

I tune out of the conversation and focus on my meal. I didn't come here to chat with people or hear their small talk. I was sent here to die, but I'm going to make sure I win instead.

Fawn Talons (District 10)
I hoist the spear over my shoulder, aiming down the tip as I try to square up my target. A few quick breaths, then I release. The weapon sails through the air and then hits the outer rim of the target. There's not enough force behind the throw, so it doesn't stick. Instead it just bounces off, clattering to the floor.

Not too bad, but a spear certainly isn't going to be my weapon of choice. "Bulls-eye!" Billy (10) yelps excitedly, pumping his fists in the air.

"No, Billy. A bulls-eye is in the center of the target," I explain it patiently, but he just shakes his head.

"Oh, I know. I was cheering Madeva on," He gestures at his hulking beast of a sister, whose already taking aim with a second spear. Her first lies in the very center of her target. "Go, go Madeva!"

I watch in impressed silence as Madeva heaves another one of the spears, this one also hitting very close to the center. "Impressive," I dole out the required complement, but the big girl just grunts and picks up another spear. You'd think that our shared desire to protect Billy would put us closer together, but it really just seems to make an awkward silence. We each want to protect him in our own way, sometimes even stepping on the others toes to do so.

"How about you give it a try?" I ask Billy. Letting him how to use new weapons will certainly help in my effort.

"Okay!" Billy springs to his feet with a grin. "I'm pretty sharp when it comes to these things, if you get my point!"

Madeva chuckles loudly from where she's throwing another spear. Sharp. Point. Spears have sharp points. I get it. "Just don't hurt yourself," I warn as he nearly trips over his untied shoes grabbing the weapon.

"I'm not going to make myself a target!" He laughs as he takes aim. "Get it? Target?"

"I get it, Billy."

"Then watch this!" He heaves the spear, and immediately think that I have made a mistake. I just let Billy throw a sharpened weapon. There is so much that could go wrong with that. Fortunately, no one dies. Billy's spear flips over in the air and hits the target backwards, bouncing to the floor. I pat him on the back.

"Don't worry, Billy. There's plenty of other weapons." Less dangerous ones too.

"I was thinking that we could try using a bow," Madeva says from behind us. I frown. A bow? That's the single worse weapon to put in Billy's hands! He could put someone's eye out! In fact, he'd probably put everyone's eyes out!

Madeva leaves before I can protest, leading Billy across the gym and towards the Bow Station. I try not to think of what may happen if Billy accidentally shoots someone. There's zero tolerance for this stuff after what happened with Stario...

Two other kids are already at the station when we arrive, Ramon (C) and Cassie (10). Both are fairly accurate, always hitting the on the edge of the bulls-eye. And thankfully, there's nothing but a wall behind the targets. Billy won't be able to hit anyone...unless he spins around. "Doesn't look too complicated," Madeva mutters as she watches the teacher go through the mechanics. Billy watches in rapt attention, eager to learn as much as possible. I just note how both Ramon and Cassie clear out as soon as he's handed a bow. Billy's clumsiness must be well-known.

"Don't maim anyone, okay Billy?" I ask as I take my own bow from the rack. He frowns slightly, but nods anyway.

"As long as you don't either!"

"I'm serious, Billy."

"So am I! You could melt someone with that look!" I stare at him, until a grin spreads across his face. "That was a joke!" He chuckles and fiddles with his bow. I notice Madeva watching me with a disapproving stare.

"What?" I ask, moving out of Billy's earshot.

"He's not a little kid," She growls. I suddenly feel very small, standing next to her. She's nearly a foot taller, and looks like one of those kids who practice witchcraft or something. "So stop treating him like one!"

"I'm just trying to protect him!" I can't believe I need to defend myself against his sister. Surely she knows what could happen if I don't!

"You did a poor job of that in the Games," She stares down at me.

"Oh? Is that what this is about? Last time?" I didn't know she would be so hung up on that, but I should have expected it! "You think that you could have done better?"

"Oh, I know I would have!"

"Really? Woulda took on an entire alliance by yourself, huh?" I'm not backing down. I won't show weakness, that's what she wants. She's testing me, trying to prove my mettle. "Cuz, I don't think you'd win that battle!"

Madeva's eyes narrow, her fists clench at her side and...Billy laughs. He laughs! "I told you she wouldn't act apologetic!" He snickers, and the fierce look on Madeva's swaps to a slow smile.

"You're right. Guess she's stronger than she looks. Or just really stubborn."

"I knew you were testing me," I tell her, still trying to show I'm on top of my game. "But I didn't know Billy knew."

"He'd be pretty upset if I harassed you without telling him the reason first," Madeva grunts and goes back to her targets. Another girl has joined us now, Thalia (12). She fires a full quiver of arrows, twelve of them, off within seconds. Each one hits the bulls-eye, and soon there's a perfect circle of arrows embedded in the targets center. The girl drops her bow with a smirk and walks away.

"Billy," I step closer to him instinctively. "Remind me to stay away from her during the Games."

Ashley Curtis (District 5)
I keep my eyes glued on Marlon (10) as he explains a basic snare to the both of us. He's the youngest out of all of us, yet he's the most athletic, and also has a whole lot of intelligence. I notice that Amira (9) doesn't know what the hell he's talking about or what he's doing, but she encouragingly nods for him to continue anyways. When Marlon's finished, he smiles and demonstrates his tral by placing a knife on in it and we watch as it is slashed by the snare.

"Now, you two can try." He nods and gives us some of the basic supplies―a rope to trigger it, some spikes to slash whoever activates it, some springs and a complex device that is used to hold the entire thing together.

"Yeah, um, I don't think we all understand." I stare at the device and carefully prox at it, not the least bit sure of how I'm supposed to build this thing. "But it's fine because you're the smart one and we don't all need to know how it's done."

"Is that some sort of complement?" Marlon stares at me with a blank look. He's kinda strange, always talking about how he wants to burn the Capitol and how we need to band together to survive. I get the feeling that he doesn't have very many friends, a task made harder by his small impish appearance. He's like me, in that respect.

"It was meant to be," I say sheepishly and he just nods slowly, his golden eyes watching me curiously.

"Can we go train with the knives now?" Amira asks, glancing at the knife station which has finally been cleared from the Careers who are now crowding around the hologram station. "I really want to get some practice in before the private sessions tomorrow."

"Sure."

Marlon disengages his trap, and walks with us as we cross the room. "About the private sessions," He says while we we walk. "What do you think you're going to do?"

I shrug. "Dunno. Something cool, I guess. You're making a trap, right?" I figure since he's been tinkering with those the past two days, that he'd have something big to show the Gamemakers.

"I could. But I wouldn't get too high of a score, no matter how complex I made it." Marlon frowns as we reach our destination. Amira immediately goes to one of the knife racks.

"I don't think scores matter," She says while picking up a long, curved knife and giving it an experimental slash. "They don't help you live any longer, and you can win with a low one." Marlon mutters something I don't catch, and Amira turns to practice on a dummy.

"They'd get us sponsors," I say quietly, fearing I'll be thought of as egotistical. "And I need sponsors." How else will I survive? Even with Marlon, who's some kind of wolf-kid, I don't think that the three of us would fare very well.

"Well, I don't need anyone's help," Marlon raises his head proudly. "I'm perfectly capable of helping myself!" That's the difference between people like Marlon and me. He has more pride, more self-esteem. But...if he truly believes he doesn't need help, then why is he in an alliance? Maybe be knows he does need help, like all three of us. We need help, if we are to win. Otherwise we'll end up dead.

Crimson Typhoon (District 11)
I stand in line for the gauntlets, watching as a girl from the Capitol jumps from gauntlet to gauntlet, carefully avoiding the pendulums and making her way across without being hit once.

"She's good," Radiant (13), my ally in the 398th Games and my ally here, says as we both watch her go.

"Real good," I agree as the girl finishes with a spectacular jump. Flame Vapore. Expert jumper. Funny ring to it. Caliban (11), the next tribute up, only takes a few steps before a baton whacks him across the face. He's sprawled out on the floor for a long minute, before getting up and mumbling something about crack. I don't understand that kid.

Daisy (11), one of our fellow Anti-Careers, goes next. I feel sorta awkward being in the alliance, when most of them are Spectri or someone who loves one. Misty, is the only other average person in the alliance with me and Radiant. Not that it's a bad thing, not when the Spectri are so powerful, and Daisy that skilful. She leaps through the gauntlets, not as fast as Flame, but still as expertly.

"Yo, dude!" Radiant nudges me with his elbow. "Look up there!"

He points up to the rafters, where a thin walkway hangs above the gym. At first, I don't understand what he's trying to show me, but then I spot Josef (8). He's leaning against the railing, his purple bandanna covering his entire face, except for his grey eyes that stare down, watching every tribute. "He's creepy," I mutter quietly.

"Yeah. But I was pointing out Frade!" Radiant points again and I see our ally slinking along the walkway. He stops beside Josef and the pair begin to exchange words. What is he doing?

"Next up!"

I don't get to speculate very long. Daisy has finished with the gauntlets, and now it's my time to go. Radiant gives me a thumbs-up as I step up to the start. Here goes nothing!

I get past the first new sets of gauntlets with ease, nothing hard about it. The third, however, is rather difficult. I jump at a spinning board and clutch on firmly as it takes me around in a circle. I make the mistake of raising my head and receive a rather brutal thwack to the base of the skull. Disoriented and confused, I still manage to let go at the right moment and deposit myself onto the next platform.

There's smaller landings now, and a more difficult way across. I hold my breath and leap across fearlessly, stumbling over the first footfalls. A baton swipes my hand, and as I'm yelping in surprise, a pendulum takes me in the chest.

I'm thrown backwards, my head bounces off of the mat that softens my fall. The wind is knocked out of me, I can barely breath. Everything is sorta blurry. Then someone is helping me up, laughing. "You nearly took yourself out, jackclown!"

Frade grins down at me, his cruel voice high and impetuous. Boy, he moves fast. Wasn't he just in the rafters? "Thanks for helping me up." I try to shake my head clear as Radiant begins to run the gauntlets. He's doing better than I did.

"Training is about to end," Frade says, letting go of my shoulder. "You should get some rest before the privates tomorrow. Don't wanna knock yourself out again."

No. No, I really don't.

Douglas Biles (District 13)
There's a knocking out my door, and without even looking up from where I lay on the bed, I know that it will be Jenessa (13). Probably wondering why I haven't talked very much, or why I'm in such a forlorn mood. Sighing, I realize that I have to confide in her sooner or later. Might as well be now.

I throw myself off of the bed and start across the sickenly posh room. I partially left my job as a Gamemaker because of this sort of unjust social divide. Partially.

Jenessa smiles at me when I open the door, I am unable to return it. "Are you okay, Doug?" She asks, concern swirling in her luminous brown eyes. She's been a good friend. Tons of other people would have already stopped being my friend after how I've been neglecting her. "You've been so withdrawn since training..."

"Come in," I motion to the inside of my room and she cautiously steps in. I shut the door behind her and lock it, ignoring the surprised look I receive.

"Something the matter?" She asks me. I just shake my head and make a shushing motion as I reach a hand into a decorative vase and pull out a small, black object. "What is--" Jenessa stops herself as I shake my head vigorously. Not yet.

I pull the chair away from my desk, and use it to reach the vent in the ceiling. I pull another one of the small objects out, and then I collect the rest. One hidden under in the bathroom cupboard, one in the lampshade, one in the curtains, and one hidden under the mattress. "There!" I say with a weak smile, after tinkering with them and making sure they're off. "We can talk in private now."

"Doug...what are those?" Jenessa stares at the small pile on my bed in confusion.

"Spying devices. A few were cameras, others only listened. Don't worry; they're all deactivated now."

"How did you know where they were?"

"We had them in the same places back when I was still a Gamemaker. Well, except for the lampshade one. That's new." I try to sound jovial, but I can't really manage it. My conscious is weighing on me too heavily.

"Oh." Jenessa pulls her chair up until she's sitting across from me. She sits in silence, her hands slowly rubbing her knees. I believe she's expecting me to say something. I close my eyes as I try to think in how to begin.

"Jenessa, I need you to listen to me." I begin with a shaky breath, watching my friend to see how she reacts. I trust her more than anyone else in the world, yet I am about to divulge a life-changing secret. Can she handle it?

"I'm listening," Jenessa smiles patiently at me. For some reason, that makes me feel worse.

"What I am about to tell you, it's...going to be rather unbelievable. But every thing I say is the truth." Her eyes flicker, but she just nods. She can sense how serious I am, but she doesn't know what I'm going on about. She will soon enough.

"The Capitol told us we were revived, correct?" It's a rhetorical question, we both know the answer, so I continue without stopping. "They told us that they brought us back to life with some sort of pseudoscience, right? Well, the truth is that they didn't. We were never brought back to life. In fact, we are not even Douglas Biles and Jenessa Whitten. We're--"

"What?" Jenessa cuts me off with a laugh. "Doug, have you lost your mind? Of course we're Doug and Jenessa! Who else would we be?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I knew she would react like this. But I need to continue, get to the main point "Jenessa, please. Just hear me out."

"Okay, but I hope there's more to your moping then this identity crisis." Her smile is joking, she thinks I'm playing a prank or something. I'm not.

"We're not who we think we are, at least, we're not the original them. People can't be brought back from the dead. It doesn't work like that. Instead, the Capitol used DNA from our originals and created clones of them, or to use the accurate term, Life Models of them." I pause to catch my breath, but Jenessa once again interrupts with a laugh.

"Doug, you're the smartest guy I know, by far. But you're seriously losing it if you think we're clones. I mean, I have memories that no one other than me would know. How could I have those if I was some random clone?" Denial. The very same reaction I had when I realized the truth.

"Becuse they took our memories from the brains of our originals. They took Douglas' memories and transplanted them into my own head so that I may think that they're my own. But they're not. None of our memories, save for the ones we've made since being revived, are our own."

"Uh-huh. So, bringing people back from the dead is pseudoscience, but this isn't?" Her words are just as defiant, but her tone harkens to some hesitancy. She is probably doing the same exact thing I did when I first realized this. Looking back at her memories.

"Think of memories no one else would know," I say to her. "And try to focus on the details. What do you see?"

"I..I...everything is fuzzy," Jenessa's face scrunches up as she tries to focus. "I'm thinking of my first Reaping, and I can't remember what my parents said, or what happened before I arrived at the square. The...the only thing that isn't fuzzy is what's happening on stage..."

"The memory transplant process isn't perfectly flawless," I mindlessly recite what I know. "A few memories may fail to materialize within the new host completely, other's may be fuzzy and difficult to recall. This problem is exemplified, if the original host's brain has been previously damaged. In these cases, we must recreate the memories with our own discretion."

"What are you talking about?!" Jenessa whirls on me, her eyes flashing with anger. "What do you mean recreate our memories? No one has tampered with my mind! I'm not a clone!" She stands up, throwing her chair back as she does. I don't move, knowing that this denial will soon pass. A problem with the early Life Model prototypes, is that if given the proper nudging, they quickly realize what they are.

"The reason why you remember what happened on the stage," I say as Jenessa rests her head against the wall, desperately trying to remember things she cannot. "Is because the Capitol could perfectly recreate that scene, because they have archived footage of each Reaping. Everything else that happened that day they had to guess and put together like patchwork. Thus, it is lower quality." Jenessa doesn't answer. Every time a Life Model realized they weren't who they thought they were, one of two things happened. They either lashed out violently, or eventually accepted the truth for what it was.

"Why...How did you figure all of this out?" Jenessa doesn't face me as she speaks. "How did you learn this?"

"I didn't." She spins around, fixing me with a fierce glare. "I didn't. But Doug did. The original Doug. The real Doug. When he was a Gamemaker, the Life Model was still just a concept. It was called the L.M Project, and he was assigned with working on it. He had memories of the project and knew how it operated. And since he had these memories, I inherited them too."

"When I was first "revived", I immediately suspected what was going on. When the scientists who surrounded me couldn't give concrete answers on how I was brought back to life, I knew that I was only a Life Model. I knew that we were all Life Models."

I stop speaking. There's more that should be said, but I need to see where Jenessa's head is first. This is hard to accept, doubly when you don't have memories in your head showing you the truth.

"Okay." Jenessa is quiet, her body has relaxed and she even picks the chair back up and sits down. "Okay. I'm a Life Model. But...who cares? I may not have been the first Jenessa Whitten, but I am Jenessa Whitten. I have her memories, even if some are fake, I have her body, her feelings, her personality. She's dead now, but I now she'd be honored to see me live on!"

Her eyes glistening with pride. She's accepted who she is, and has decided to cling to her old identity. I am not surprised. I knew she would accept it.

"But why are you so distraught?" She looks at me sideways. "You may not be the original, but you're still the Doug we all know and love. You don't need to be upset just because your a clone."

I smile sadly. If only that was the reason why, if only it were so simple. I stand, turning from Jenessa as I approach the large window in my room. It is night, well past midnight, yet it is not dark. The buildings of the Capitol gleam with fluorescent light that illuminates the busy roads. So many people. So many who will become what I am. "Have you heard of Life Modifier?" I ask Jenessa.

"Of course. They're the company that's prolonging everyone's lives," She steps up beside me, a gentle hand upon my shoulder.

"Do you want to know how they're doing that?" I turn from the window and face her. She sees how grave I am, and she realizes what is happening.

"Life Modifier...Life Model..." She murmurs quietly as she connects the dots. She always was a bright one. "They're...they're turning everyone into clones!?" Part question, part outraged shout. I nod sadly.

"Yes. I do not know what they do with the originals, imprison or kill them, I guess. But it is obvious what is happening. I guess that their ultimate aim is to replace everyone in Panem with Life Models. They get the Capitol citizens first, with their "double life span" tactic, before they'll begin to offer the same program to the District's. By then, everyone will have seen it's benefits and happily sign up, having no idea that they're just really be replaced by Life Models."

"But why? What could they possibly gain from doing that?"

"When Doug was a Gamemaker, they had plans for the L.M Project that included implanting two devices into each models body. One would act like these," I hold up on of the listening cubes I had pulled from the lampshade. "But instead of only listening to your words, it'd also record your thoughts."

"No. No, that's impossible!" Jenessa shakes her head. "That couldn't work. No one can read minds!"

"It is possible and it does work. Doug saw trial runs himself, and that was over seventy-five years ago. Imagine how they've improved that technology." I lean against the wall, watching the small dots of people as they head along to restaurants and nightclubs, to their homes and work. Soon, no one will even have the privacy of their own thoughts.

"Wait. Wait. Do we...have those things in us?" Jenessa begins to panic, no doubt fearing what the Capitol may have heard her think, but I shake my head.

"No. The version Doug saw wasn't yet able to work on a human. Only dogs and cats." I allow myself a smile. "And yes, they do think. Not like you and me, but they think all the same."

"But...if it doesn't work on people, then why are we worrying about it?"

"I said that the version Doug saw wasn't ready. Remember: He was a Gamemaker for the 325th Games, and they all planned it would be impossible to implement the device for at least twenty more years. Yet, we were created for the 327th Games, eighteen years before the minimal deadline. Obviously, we couldn't possibly have had to the device in us." I feel a shudder down my spine saying those words. Created. By them. It sounds horrible, but it's true. I am just a product of the Capitol, a corruption of the real Doug. Yet, it doesn't erase my guilt.

"How do you know they didn't get it to work quicker?" Jenessa is still worried about then being in her head.

"Because they would have learned that I knew about all this and would have acted on it by now." I sigh, realising that I haven't even told her the full extent of the devices power yet. "Jenessa, not only can could they hear our thoughts, but they could control them. The device is capable of disrupting thought patterns, and we had a working theory that it could maybe also erase memories as well. Like, if someone had a rebellious thought, they could then disrupt their thinking and then delete the thought. The person wouldn't even be aware that it happened, once the job was done."

"That's horrible!" Jenessa clutches her head with her hands, as if they're trying to get her thoughts right now. I agree that it is horrible, beyond horrible. I feel dead inside every time I think about, knowing what I do. Jenessa sits down on my bed, and then apparently has a new thought. "What does the second device do?"

I take a deep breath, suddenly feeling very cold. "It's a kill switch."

Silence.

The wind outside the window whistles as it begins to pick up. Jenessa doesn't have anything to say, too shocked and angry. I don't blame her. This was a huge exposition dump of information. I had weeks to think it all over, she has had minutes. If everyone becomes a Life Model...then the Capitol will be able to see everyone's thoughts, and if you think something they don't like...they kill you. With only a push of a button. And while the two of us, and the other tributes from the Duels, don't have this device in our heads, the tributes who were voted in do.

"Why would anyone want this?" Jenessa doesn't understand.

"The original visionaries believed that mankind was incapable of protecting themselves, and that they needed to have someone make the hard decisions for them. But freedom isn't given up easily, so they had to trick the populace into giving it up."

"Okay, but...what's their long-term goal? I mean, can Life Models even have children?"

"Yes, they can." I don't feel the need to go into the specifics of how this was done.

Jenessa frowns, thinking things over in her head. "But no future generation would have those devices in their heads. They'd just be normal, right?"

"At first, yes. But you're forgetting the fact that they'd be able to plant the device inside of anyone once they're capable of controlling their elders thoughts. Also, the modern device is technology beyond my comprehension. It merges into the subjects body, basically becoming apart of them. They have a theory that within time it'd be able to passed on through genetics." It's unfathomable to me, but that's the plan and idea. I think their would be simpler ways on controlling the populace, but that's not the reality laid before me.

"Life Models..." Jenessa whispers to herself. "Who would come up with such a terrible thing?"

"Doug did."

"What?!"

Tears nearly explode from my eyes as I answer. "Doug came up with the original idea of Life Models, he created the diagrams for the first one. He wanted to make clones for science research, and for replacing people who died prematurely. He never intended for it to go like this! But they found his research! They forced him to begin actual work on the subject! And, then he couldn't take it anymore. He didn't just immigrate to District 13 because of his guilt for being a Gamemaker, I left because I started this entire process! I knew that I'd be the catalyst for ending free will forever!"

The tears flow freely now. All of my anguish and sorrow I've been hiding away finally comes out. I am the reason for this. I have paved the road for the Capitol's ultimate victory. Jenessa comes up to me, tries to comfort me, but I push her away.

"This isn't your fault," She tries to say, but I won't listen.

"Yes it is! I may not be the original Doug, but I am him. You said so yourself!"

"Just because you worked on an idea, an idea that has been around for centuries, doesn't mean that you're responsible for how everyone else uses it!" She grips my shoulder and makes me stare her in the eye. "You are not responsible Doug. The Capitol is. They're the ones doing it, they're the ones who're evil. Not you."

"No. No, the Capitol is going to control everyone," I say sadly. "And it's all my fault."