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Hello everyone. I'm back with another games, and by the looks of it, they're gonna be my last. High school is heating up and soon I won't have enough time to come on as I will be extremely busy.
The title, The Cryptic Games, is a secret for now. The word cryptic means mysterious, puzzling in meaning. So for these games, I will have a twist. The twist involves ideas from three books I read over the summer holidays, and for these games; I plan to make them my best yet.
Obviously they won't be as great as some of the other games on this wiki, but I know a lot of you read my writing, and if you like my Battle Royale games, you will definitely like these.
These games will be split into five parts, each portion including at least two to five days in the arena. These games will be a bit long for my liking, but I'm making a commitment to continue with these games.
There are six users I definitely want in these games, and they have been listed somewhere below and they will be notified about these games as soon as possible.
The tributes, they NEED to be detailed. I care most about the tribute's personality, the other information I don't really care for, but I need every little bit of your tribute to be as detailed as possible. Obviously, you don't have to go overboard, but just include as much as you can.
As soon as all the tribute slots have been filled, I will begin brainstorming and I will jot down all of my ideas and mash them all together. One last thing.
Let the Cryptic Games begin.
Rules and Requirements
A few rules:
1. NO SWEARING/INAPPROPRIATE LANGUAGE. It's irrelevant, and unneeded. There are children here too and we need to control our language and be good role models.
2. Please don't get upset when your tribute dies. Obviously, in The Hunger Games, people die, and only one can win. So it's immature to whine about one of your tributes dying, most of you will have all of your tributes die.
3. Remember, it's just a story. Tributes, mutts, they're all just fantasy! This is just for mine and your entertainment, so please be sensible.
4. Have fun! Like I said above, it's just entertainment. Sit back and enjoy my writing!
Okay, firstly, you can have one tribute. There will be 30 tributes, so these games include District 0, 13 and 14. Yes, you are only allowed one tribute, I want to get a lot of users involved in these games as they will possibly be my last. I will be accepting tributes of all sorts, but please, I beg you, make them creative. . I also want to get as many old users in these games as possible, this includes; Jabberjay78, Angry birds12, SerpentKing999, TheMysteriousGeek, Mopping and TDR97.
Make your tributes as creative as possible, and also supply a description of your tribute's appearance, or better a lunaii.
Requirements: Name, Age, District, Gender, Personality, History, Skills, Weapon(s) and any other information you wish to include. No reservations.
I took three of Angry's tributes as I adore them and well, yeah.
District 0: Astrology
District 0 Female: Artemis Maymoon
District 0 Male: Astre Celestius
District 1: Luxury Items
District 1 Female: Bliss Diamond
District 1 Male: Garnet Limerick
District 2: Weaponry and Masonry
District 2 Female: Sarona Merion
District 2 Male: Balcony Frocket
District 3: Electricity
District 3 Female: Jaia Ng
District 3 Male: Gauge Down
District 4: Fishing
District 4 Female: Isis Glow
District 4 Male: Draco Light
District 5: Power
District 5 Female: Tessa Powers
District 5 Male: Falcon Generate
District 6: Transportation
District 6 Female: Mary Solar
District 6 Male: Sagitarius Profane
District 7: Lumber
District 7 Female: Thistle Wisteria
District 7 Male: Griffin Oak
District 8: Textiles
District 8 Female: Nepeta Dawn
District 8 Male: Indigo Rankine
District 9: Grain
District 9 Female: Jasmine Firethorn
District 9 Male: Fredrick Thorton
District 10: Livestock
District 10 Female: Hallee Warren
District 10 Male: Slida Tain
District 11: Agriculture
District 11 Female: Lily Shade
District 11 Male: Luke Heart
District 12: Coal Mining
District 12 Female: Florence Serpentia
District 12 Male: Birch Saunders
District 13: Graphite Mining and Nuclear
District 13 Female: Sydnee Wren
District 13 Male: Loki Shadows
District 14: Muttations
District 14 Female: Maia Pithra
District 14 Male: Furry Anderson
Hey! So, this arena is basically just an abandonded island, like one from my other games, but I have a picture! Here's a brief descriptions of each sector.
So, for the first sector, it's just a forest, basically. There's many, many trees and also a few caves and waterfalls. There's a stream or two here and edible plants, as well as poisonous. This is the best area for concealment, beverage and nourishment, as there's a fair quantity of apple trees, pear trees and several places to hide and evade danger. There's also a few mountains on the outskirts here.
The second sector, the bottom left corner of the arena, is a small village offering scattered huts and many wooden shacks. The amount of huts is larger than the scads of sheds, and it would take at least ten to twenty hours to investigate each hut in pursue of tributes. This area doesn't offer much, but exposure is rare here and if in desperate need of veiling, this is the best place to pay a visit.
Sector three, the luxuriated area of the arena. Here, you can find many buildings and skyscrapers, about thirty towers in total. One or two of the buildings here are hotels, some are offices, and many more genres included. The power has been cut out throughout the island, and all cuisine and beverage from buildings has been seized by peacekeepers and taken away. All buildings have at least five or more floors, and the majority of them have twenty and above. The tributes will be forced out of these buildings somehow by the gamemakers if they are staying in the building too long. These buildings offer great view of other tributes and other unwanted guests, and also warmth and shelter.
The last sector, the bottom right corner of the stadium of death, is a sweltering beach, peppered with rocks and palm trees. The beach doesn't offer shelter nor concealment, unless the tribute can camoflauge themself to blend in with the pristine scenery. There is a large sea, salty water cleansing the beige sand as it rolls onto the beach. If attempting to escape by sea, the tribute will be knifed with the gamemakers' weapons, or will strike the titantic forcefield and will perish within seconds.
Notes for the Games:
- There will be no cornucopia
- Tributes will rise in random areas of the arena
- Each tribute will start out with a completely random weapon
- Some building doors will be locked, so tributes may have to break in
- Each building provides at least one survival pack, which could be hidden anywhere
- Backpacks each provide a beverage, something edible, and survival equipment
- No sponsoring
- Huts are wide and spacious, but don't include anywhere to hide in them, they're pretty much empty
- Every kill a tribute earns, they will be rewarded with food and water
That's all for now.
Will be revealed in Part Two of the games.
30. Mary Solar: stabbed in the back with sword by Bliss Diamond (Day 1)
29. Thistle Wisteria: shot in the skull with an arrow by Balcony Frocket (Day 2)
28. Artemis Maymoon: sickle smashed into skull by Lily Shade (Day 2)
The Plates Rise
Tessa Powers, (D5), Skyscraper:
As my plate gradually rises, I'm ready to face a golden cornucopia, crammed with gleaming weapons, survival supplies and an abundance of marvelous items ready to be salvaged.
There must be some sort of interruption with the briskness of the plates rising, because I've been locked in this small duct for about three minutes, rising slower than I've seen in past games.
Still rising at delaying speed, I close my eyes and recollect the precious times I spent with Falcon Generate, the boy who shares my love. Those delightful memories of him and I fill my mind, and then I remember.
I'm here to kill him.
No. No. There's no way, no way in the world I could bring myself to kill him! But what's more important? Our love and our promises, or my life? My fate? Well, time will tell, and it's going to be a long wait, because I'm not going down easily, and I'm sure he isn't either.
I open my almost cemented eyelids and find myself in some sort of abandoned department.
Is this some kind of joke? Instead of fixing my eyes on a whopping cornucopia filled with weapons and supplies, I'm locking eyes with a wooden desk, piles and piles of paperwork spilling over the rectangular table.
Where are all the other tributes? Where's the beautiful forest and a whale of a sun, pouring daylight into the surroundings? What's going on?!
I feel my right hand clenched hard around a solid object, and I look down and find myself clutching a lengthy, slender dagger, a black handle and a silver blade.
Unexpectedly, the horns of release chime, allowing the tributes to step from their plates. I guess if there's a gong, I'm not the only one here.
I'm not sure if the arena is actually a single building, or if it's an island or something, but I guess I'll find out soon. Right now, I got one thing on my mind.
Falcon Generate, the boy I'll fall for.
Sagitarius Profane, (D6), Forest:
As soon as the bell-like noise rings out, I'm darting through the trees, heading for a crimson backpack dangling from a nearby branch.
Snatching the hanging rucksack, I twirl around and slide earthward, my back grazing the brunette bark of the tree.
I vigilantly unzip the backpack, then begin rummaging through the supplies. I have a pair of binoculars, a small paper bag brimming with dried fruit, a petite bottle of water, and a lasso.
Plucking the clear wattle bottle, I break the seal off and take two ephemeral sips. I stash it away, knowing that water is the key for survival. Well, better get going.
Slanting to my feet, I tie the lasso around the hatchet I started out with, then fasten the rest of it around my waist. Now, there's no way I'll be suffering loss of my hatchet, and I'll also have two free hands.
So after securing my untamed knot, I grab my binoculars and head north.
The Girl In a Hut
Lily Shade, (D11), Village:
I'm still a bit surprised that the tributes all rose in random areas of the arena, but seriously? They put me in the middle of an exposed village? Thanks a lot, gamemakers.
So as soon as the gong fizzled throughout the arena, I whisked inside a nearby hut, which I'm currently in now.
The hut provided a backpack, jam-packed with fantastic items! A loaf of bread, two canteens of water, a raincoat, a bag of moss, a lighter and two weapons.
In total, I have three weapons, and I'm pretty skilled with each one of them. The weapon I had when I was heightened into the arena was a slingshot, and tied to the handle was a small pouch filled with jagged rocks. The other weapons consisted of a small hunting knife and sickle, which I've used before on the fields back in 11.
I quickly stride towards the doorway of the hut, then sit down beside it. If anyone wants to come into my hut, they'll recieve a nasty blow to the head with this sickle of mine. I'm not going down easily, that's a fact.
Of course, I'm not bloodthirsty or anything. I'm not a savage career craving the liquid of life to leak from their victims. I'm still Lily Shade, and I won't kill for the victim's pain.
I'll kill for survival.
Skying In With a Spear
Griffin Oak, (D7), Beach:
Sizzling hot rays of the sun drizzle over me as I lay up against a palm tree, chomping on a mellow, delicious banana I found in my backpack.
I should really get going, as I'm poised on the outskirts of this beach. There's way more better places where I could be hiding right now, but I wanted to watch the sapphire waves thrash about in the spacious ocean before heading off.
Taking one last measureable gaze into the ocean, I sigh and vault to my feet. Now, where to go? I'm not used to living in luxury, so I may try out a hotel room. I mean, you can still have fun, even in The Hunger Games, right?
So, I pirouette on my heels and head for the skyscraping buildings up ahead, hoping I don't run into a lunatic who's hellbent on killing.
Striding with a grin on my face, I make sure to check each building, looking for evidence on what's a hotel and what isn't. I've never slept without a bed, and I'm not stopping now.
About a minute away from the lanky, rectangular building I'm heading for, I see something I was wishing I wouldn't see. A tribute sprinting towards me with a spear.
A Nightmare Soon to Come
Jasmine Firethorn, (D9), Forest:
It's going to be okay. You're safe. You're concealed up in this tree. No one can see you. Jasmine, there's no need to cry. You're safe. But am I really?
I've been telling myself that I'm safe, but soon, I'll have to come down! I'm absolutely petrified! Taking humungous breaths, I notify myself once more that it's going to be okay.
No. In The Hunger Games, no one is safe. I'm probably overreacting right now, but I've been terror-stricken! On my plate, I seemed so confident and robust. But now I'm more fearful than ever.
Gripping onto the branch I'm roosted on, I passively inch across the stury branch, trying my downright hardest not to bewail and express sorrow.
Then all of a sudden, something puts me on the edge as I grip the scythe's handle, baseball style.
I will X-out every last one of these other tributes. They will be put to the edge of this scythe and polished off, eliminated from the human race.
If I'm scared of dying, then that nightmare won't come true.
An Approaching Plan
Gauge Down, (D3), Tower:
Thankfully there's a lot of buildings here, otherwise I'd be screwed. I've ran into this jumbo building, mounted a few staircases, and now I have a great lookout area of the city, and a shipshape working area.
I reel around, reclined in a black leather seat, a marble desk sprawled ahead of me. Kicking my heels up, I begin ruffling and toying with a bundle of cords I've found, and sigh as I try jamming some of them into a plugboard I managed to scope out.
Hmm...so, the electricity's out, I see. No problem.
I just have to breathe some new life into it.
It will take a day or two to rekindle all these cords and wires, but I've got a plan. A cunning, ingenious plan, and it shall take down everyone, excluding me of course, because I will win these games blindfolded.
I have some bad news, though. The weapon I was supplied with was an aluminum hammer. I was hoping for a combat knife, but I guess I'll just have to rely on my electricity skills.
Volt, Destiny and dad, don't worry. I'll be home in no time.
All Joking Aside
Bliss Diamond, (D1), Village:
Shooting past huts and shacks, I know I've got these games in the bag. I mean, seriously? They put us in an arena with four great surroundings, each filled with great resources? Great work, gamemakers. Bravo.
All joking aside, these games will be one massive game of rippa rugby. But instead of ripping the opponents' tag off, you rip their head off instead. That's how I see it.
Flaunting my twin swords, licked with a bronze flame pattern, I flash the sky a smug glance, hoping the cameras catch it. I need to let the viewers at home know that I'm not going down easily.
If I go down, I go down with a hotheaded brawl. But I won't get that far ahead of myself.
Because I'm not going down anytime soon, and that's a fact I'm willing to prove.
Friend or Foe
Luke Heart, (D11), Forest:
I slowly wander through twirling vines and towering trees, preying I run into someone trustworthy, 'cause I'm in desperate need of company.
So, I'm finally in the arena, and my brain decides to shut down on me when I try to scope out edible and non edible plants. Seriously, I get here and it seems like the gamemakers have erased my memory.
So instead of uprooting edible and non edible plants, I take out my knife and begin sawing through the stalks of dandelions, hoping I can soon make a salad.
Picking up the bundle of dandelions, I stash them away in my green rucksack, kneel down, and begin plucking and pilfering a few more flowers and greens.
Then, there's a rustling in a bush nearby.
I briskly pocket my knife, and whip my head towards the quaking bush. My knife at the ready, I slowly vault to my toes and creep towards the stirring bush.
As I'm about to slice my knife downwards, I'm bowled over by a hurtling figure.
Whirling around in the leaves and flowers with this fierce tribute, they swipe me to my back and prod their dagger against my neck.
"I'm Florence Serpentia, are you a friend or foe?"
Florence Serpentia, (D12), Forest:
"Friend! I'm a friend!" The boy screeches, choking on his shouts as I push the dagger down even harder, only an inch away from splitting open his Adam's apple.
"Oh, don't have a heart attack little boy. Don't tell me you're afraid of a girl?" I joke around, chuckling as I take the dagger away and peg it into my belt.
I help him to his feet, and he brushes himself off as I lounge against the thick tree behind me.
"So, 11, I'm guessing?" I ask. "Huh? What to do you mean?" "You're from 11, right?" I buzz, and in response, he begins snickering quietly.
"Yeah. How did you know?" He asks with a grin. "Well, I was right after you during interviews. You were going on about your sister and friends back home. And some girl named Jay." I chirp, and the last word of the sentence sends him into some kind of trance.
"Um. Earth to 11?" I mumble, and he seems to snap out of it. "Oh, sorry. You just reminded me of all my family and friends back home. I'm Luke Heart, by the way." He tweedles.
"Oh, sorry about that. Yeah, it's been hard for all of us, I guess." I say, and we stay quiet for a while.
Breaking the silence, he smiles and asks, "So, what's it like in 12?" I'm a bit bewildered, because normally a group of allies just stay hidden and only make conversation about strategies and tips for further in the games.
"Pretty glum. Nothing like 1 or 2. The people are mostly nice though." I murmur, and he simply nods. "How about your District? I guess you get a lot of food on your table."
"Actually, we're starving in 11. The people who actually harvest are the ones who have full stomachs. In fact, most of us struggle to get a decent feast. I mostly just chow down game with my best friend, Robin. We go hunting twice each week."
"Hm. I thought differently. Okay, I think we should get going. We're making a fair amount of noise, we're probably being hunted as we speak. Come on, grab your things." I say, and he quickly nods before gathering his supplies.
After seizing the rest of our supplies, we're heading off. Now, here's the question.
Can I trust Luke Heart, male native of District 11?
Keep the Ball Rolling
Griffin Oak, (D7), City:
The figure slams into me, and I'm battered backwards into a glass door of a building. Dang it!
There's a capella of the sound of cracking glass as my back is rooted into the glass door, and a cloudburst of glass showers the air, each shard hitting the surface with a sickening shatter.
Without warning, the tributes's comes rocketing towards me through a mist of glass, and I revolve to my left, dodging the spearhead's puncture of flesh.
But this time, the spear is sailing straight for my head, and there's no way I can evade this heavy blow about to be laid apon my skull.
So, instead of trying to make a swift strategy for dodging this rupture, I close my eyes and accept the painful death which is briskly approaching.
But somehow, death has been delayed, and my eyes bulge from my sealed sockets, to find a puckered spearhead poised in air, and I look up and see Falcon Generate grinning.
"Oh! Griffin! I'm so sorry! You kinda looked like that boy from 1 back from where I was standing. Guess I should have got a better look at you before I tried picking you off. Again, sorry." He mumbles, then helps me to the feet.
"Don't worry. I was really scared there for a moment. Where's Tessa?" I ask, still shocked that I'm still here, alive.
"I'm trying to find her. We made up before the games, you know, about that thing with Eric." He says, and I nod.
Falcon and Tessa didn't speak to eachother much during training, in fact, they barely looked at eachother without being disgusted. Falcon and I got along fairly well, and Tessa's also a great pal of mine.
"Ran into anyone yet, little man?" Falcon snickers with a grin on his face, and I can't help but return one.
"That boy from 0. He started on the beach, but I don't think he noticed me, gladly." I chirp, and we slowly begin sauntering down a concrete sidewalk, plucking away shards of glass tangled in our arena attire.
"Well, come on. Let's go find Tessa, I think she'll be glad to see you." Falcon says, and I bow my head in response.
Isis Glow, (D4), Cave:
Draco Light. Where are you, Draco?
During our last dinner in the Capitol, Draco and I organized to meet near the Cornucopia. But obviously, that's not feasible now, and I'm really ticked off.
Without my spoken remedy, who knows what will happen to him? He may go off the deep end and end up killing someone innocent and pure!
Calm down, Isis. He's a smart boy, just be patient and soon, you will find him, and then you can treasure him until things heat up and get climactic. But you will protect him, no matter what. And you will try your hardest to win whilst shielding the boy you love from danger.
The boy I love? Do I love Draco? I've never really thought about it. It's been forbidden without myself knowing, but something deep inside of me says I love hime. Love.
It's almost powerful. Knowing you love someone. Because love is dangerous. It can throw you off the edge. It can kill you. Love does many things, more negatives than positives. But that's just me.
Strolling into the spacious, lightless cave, I remember what I'm even here for. Draco. I will search day and night until I find him, because not only do I want to protect him, I want to figure out if I love him or not.
Then suddenly, I'm tumbling over something too big to be a rock. A tribute!
Spinning from the sprawled position, I'm promptly on my feet, unsheathing a flashing knife and sporting an icy expression. I'm ready to switch on battle mode.
Then, I see him. His snow white hair. His honeydew shaded eyes. And his gorgeous, breathtaking smile.
"Draco," I begin, almost rattled at his appearance.
"Isis!" He shouts with triumph, and we lace ourselves in eachother's arms, the two of us chirpy and in high spirits. The hug is so warm and peaceful, I just never want to let go.
And I wonder if we will ever hug again.
Back in the Capitol
Scorpius Flame, (D4 Victor and Mentor), Capitol:
Seeing the two nuzzle and caress, It's made me even more determined for my mission.
I'm planning to put an end to the games, once and for all. Past victors are helping out with this brutal assignment, and it may cost us our lives, but it may be worth it. The games gone forever is the best prize anyone could ever be crowned with, and we hope to come out on top, as champions.
I'm not doing this just for Draco and Isis, I'm doing it for all the unfortunate tributes who are competing in the games as I state this in my mind, have lost their lives in past games, for those who suffered loss off their loved ones and tributes soon to come in future games.
The games can never happen again. And they won't. Not on my watch.
Unition with Lightning
Nepeta Dawn, (D8), Beach:
An obscillating burst of lightning crackles across the light blue sky, a veil of dark shadows slowly swaying in.
The tremendous roar of a thunderbolt startle me, and I begin to weep as I duck under my umbrella of palm trees, gripping a trunk as I shake around in this horrifying whirlwind.
As I wrap my arms around a slender palm tree, I remember that terrifying memory of when I first quarreled lightning, lapping in the ferocious wind.
The sky was chromed with a twilight, the weather was warm, and alluring larks were winding through the bright sky, each whistling a harmonized anthem.
My brother and I were out in the woods, playing an enjoyable game of hide and seek. I was currently hiding, giggling as I watched my perplexed brother frolicking through the trees from my hiding spot.
Then it struck. That sickening sight as the missile of lightning zapped his forehead, sending him into a deadly dance as he howled and cried for help.
I emerged from the trees screaming, watching as he fluttered violently and another bolt of lightning hit him with a sickening pop. He became limp and cold, and his mouth formed the perfect O before hitting the ground below.
Lightning killed my brother. It took his life.
And I won't let it take mine.
Sarona Merion, (D2), Mountains:
The sky looks as if it's been unzipped as a zigzag of lightning seeps into the teal clouds.
Lightning doesn't scare me. Nothing does. I'm here to give the audience a good show, and a tail of bravery suddenly emerges from me as a sea of rainwater descends upon me.
Thunder sparkling and snapping, hail and rain shooting and whirling in the ruthless, blundering wind, I begin striding to the peak of the mountain, ready to show the viewers at home the brutish murderess I really am.
Finally, after struggling to drag myself to the crown of the mountain, I stand tall as I lean over the edge, then I lash my whip into the air, raising the sword in my other hand triumphantly.
Then all of a sudden, a large orb of wind soars towards me and blows me over, sending me diving headfirst into a thick tree trunk. I moan and whine, clutching my head with pain. I roll over, grimacing with fury.
So, the Gamemakers thought it would be funny knocking me into a tree to shred my malicious icon to bits! They made me look weak! They will pay!
Gaining my balance, I recline against the tree and tug my knees to my chest, swearing revenge on the Gamemakers.
Fredrick Thorton, (D9), Flower Field:
I found this magnificent field of flowers earlier, and as I lay in the corpulent flowers, I know for sure that I'll have a good sleep tonight. Hopefully I'm not scared out of here.
The lightning darkens the mood a bit thought. Before, the birds were chriping and butterflies were fluttering about, but now it's gloomy and the ground rattles with each monstrous boom of lightning.
Absorbed in the comfort of this bed of petals, I close my eyes and slowly drift into slumber.
I've been sleeping for literally two minutes! I lurch forward and spring to my feet, alarmed by the snapping twig. Then, I hear the snap again.
Fishing out my knife, I admire it's lethalness for just a second. Earlier, I wrapped the knife in a vine of thorns to give the weapon some venom, and now I can estimate how much damage I can produce with the blade.
Obviously, I don't want to kill. But I might have to. If this tribute comes leaking out, wielding a long distance weapon, I'm screwed.
Sydnee Wren, (D13), Flower Field:
Dang it! I think as my foot cracks the stick in half.
That just ruined everything. As soon as I saw the tribute dozing off, I began drawing near, ready to brain the tribute with the sickle I found in my backpack.
But now, he's arisen, possessing some kind of thorned knife.
Now that I get an exceptional glance at the figure, I espy the boy from 9. So, I was planning to slaughter a harmless thirteen year old boy? Well, maybe if I got a better look at him beforehand, I would have ignored him and fled.
I emerge from the blossom trees, smiling with inelegance.
"Um, hey." I chime, my grin blooming wider. I hope I'm not creeping the little guy out.
"Well, I'm just letting you know that I mean no harm. Especially not to you." I confirm, fingering a blonde tress of my hair as I set my sickle aside.
I've left him speechless, and I'm not really sure why. So, instead of bothering him again, I swiftly nod and whirl around, sluggishly journeying into the depths of the field.
"Wait!" I hear him bellow, and I raise my head to get wind of the words.
"Can you please ally with me? I'm so afraid." He murmurs, and I whip around to find him begging on his knees for union with me.
Considering the request, I sigh and stare into his steel shaded eyes. "Okay. You've got a deal."
Birch Saunders, (D12), Forest:
Parading through the forest, I pinch acorns from trees and chuck them into a small woolen pouch I found in a backpack. The pouch has a winding string, so I can wrap it around my neck.
I pop an acorn into my mouth, nibbling on the mouthwatering nut, soaking up the heavenly flavors.
After sprinkling a few more of the scrumptious acorns into my mouth, I stash them away into the pouch and secure the knot, promptly binding the pouch around my neck.
Plopping down in a pyramid of leaves, I hug my knees and think about home.
I think about my loving family, all so terrified and watching the games on the edge of their seats, so concerned they won't be able to sleep at night. I then think about my friends.
The great memories I shared with them. They loved me, even though I wasn't like them. I was brutish and opinionated. They were accepting and caring.
Now, even stuck in this horrible mess, I want to be like them. Loving. Caring. Compassionate, and mostly, kind, especially to others.
Absentmindedly stroking the leaves below me, I scoop up a few leaves, ablaze with autumn colors, then let them take off in the gentle wind.
The lightning has stopped here, but it roars on in the beach and mountains. There's also the occasional bang of lightning in the village too.
Suddenly, there's a tuneful whistle above me, and I gaze skyward to catch the element producing the divine lullaby.
A flock of mockingjays, brushed upon a long tree branch, sing a beautiful melody, and one by one, they fly from their branch and alight in the pile of leaves, gathering around me while they sing the humble tune.
I'm not sure why they are following me, but I don't complain. Their song is magnetic, making me want to blurt out a song of my own, but that would surely give away my whereabouts, and I can't let that happen.
So I close my eyes and listen to the beautiful song, and soon the harmonic tune sending me breezing into sleep.
Thistle Wisteria, (D7), Mountains:
The tree I'm concealed in suddenly begins quaking, and not from the horrendous thunder or malicious wind, but from someone banging into it.
I'm not sure if the tribute has spotted me yet, then I realize what's going on. The Gamemakers must have known I'm up here and she's down there, so they're trying to bring us together.
Citizens of the Capitol must be glued to their television screens, ready to watch us joust until one remains. It sickens me. They have no problem watching innocent children perish.
I'll admit, I'm frightened. Soon, the tribute below me will spot me, decorate their face with a sly grin and nail me to this tree with a blade wedged between my eyes.
They haven't spotted me yet, I don't think, so I need to catch a glimpse of my opponent. I'll see if they're dangerous. For all I know, it could be my District partner. That adorable, loving young lad.
But the Gamemakers wouldn't do that. They want a show. And a show they will get, because I will fight to the death.
Sarona Merion, (D2), Mountains:
I lounge against the thick trunk of the brunette tree, plotting the Gamemakers' deaths individually. Of course, I'll never be able to get near them, especially when I'm tied in this mess, but it's still fun. Yeah, designing new ways to kill inside my mind is pretty amusing. But that's just me.
The wind has died down a bit, yet the tree I'm tucked against stays firm and solid, as if something's holding it down. Then all of a sudden, it comes to me.
I'm not here alone.
Before I can even calculate what's going on, I gaze sky-high, and watch as the girl with purple hair comes tumbling out of the tree, having had snapped the branch she was poised on.
Her head clashes with mine, and the pain mixes with the injury I recieved the first time I hit my head. Plucking the jet black sword beside me, I watch as she loops to her feet, her purple, choppy hair swaying like water in the wind.
As she grasps for the blade in her belt, I slash open her left sleeve. I hope I got closer when I swung the sword, it would have majorly severed her arm.
A thin cut on her forearm doesn't send her to her knees like usual weaklings, she stays stony and removes a shining dagger from her belt.
Instead of slicing at her with my sword, I wait for her to strike the next blow.
She takes a step forward and swings the dagger at my throat, and I evade the incoming blade by ducking down. Whilst kneeling down, I remove the coiled whip from my back pocket and rise.
Lashing her neck, I send her staggering backwards shrieking. She regains her balance briskly, swinging her dagger at me with a monstrous war cry.
I'm sorry District 7, but you're going down, and there's nothing you can do about it.
Thistle Wisteria, (D7), Mountains:
With an almighty sway of the dagger, the blade comes whipping towards her, ready to cut her face open. And I'll be here, up close, watching every little bit of it.
But she's not there. My hand, still gripping the woolly handle of the dagger, is suddenly thwacked with something powerful, and I stumble back again, screeching as I lose hold of the dagger.
I see the girl arched over on the ground, her leg elevated. She knocked away my dagger with her combat boot!
Seeing her grinning face and twirling whip infuriates me. I'll kill this girl. Barehanded. She rises to her feet and comes sprinting towards me, faster than a cheetah, her sword in one hand and whip in the other, ready to end me.
"Say goodbye!" She chirps with so much happiness it's actually revolting. She stands over my sprawled body, ready to cast the final blow, and when I see the sword coming down on me, I raise my backpack.
The sword slits open my backpack, and all the contents spill out across the grass covered surface, and right now, that doesn't matter to me, because I still have another weapon better than hers.
Grunting as she pries loose her sword from the thick material of the backpack, I come up behind her, armed with her whip she left behind when swinging her sword at me.
Raising the whip, I smack her back and she screeches, lurching backwards and dropping the sword. I raise the whip once more, prepared to strike the blow upon her chest, when she suddenly vanishes.
Before I can even turn around, her hands ram into the back of my head and I fall over. But instead of hitting the ground, I keep falling. Forever falling.
Because she's just pushed me off a cliff.
Astre Celestius, (D0), Forest:
Ambling through the beautiful forest, I listen to the lightning's wicked rumble, ringing out from all angles.
Lightning's pretty common back in District 0. I love the blare of thunder. It's sensational and explosive. I bet most tributes who haven't ever heard lightning are scared out of their minds.
Actually, thunder and lightning brighten up the mood in District 0. When it's booming with thunder everyone's out partying and having a great time. It's the perfect weather for festivity.
But I'm not going to bore myself by thinking about lightning. I need to get on the move, because tributes are prowling the arena, ready to kill.
I hurdle over logs, swoop around trees and duck under twirling vines, whirling around every now and then to make sure no one's following me, my knife accessible.
I suddenly find myself in some kind of opening, no trees in sight and rolling mountains and hills up above. If there was a bush or tree nearby, this would be a great place to camp.
Then I remember. My tent Pulling off my backpack, I unzip the pack and rummage around for the sepia colored tent. Once clasping the rolled up tent, I take it out along with a small sack filled with resources I'll need for the tent.
It may take a while to set it up as I have no experience with tents, but it will cloak me from the rain and lightning during night. So I walk to the end of the clearing, when I see something twirling above me.
My jaw drops as I see the hurtling tribute, and they land on top of me, causing me to dump my supplies infront of me.
The tribute, a girl, wheels off of me, purple curls hanging over her plum shaded eyes and bronze cheeks.
"I-I was pushed off of th-the cliff." She mumbles, and I look heavenward to find a cliff. Her face is bruised and her left arm has been cut minorly, but it still requires aid.
"Y-you saved me. Even though it was on accident." She says, then I see that she has no supplies. How is she going to survive?
"Did I hurt you?" She asks. "Well, you bruised my back, but nothing major. Who pushed you?" I ask, collecting my supplies as she shivers and trembles.
"The girl from 2. The Gamemakers brought us together. She probably thinks I'm dead." She murmurs, and crawls away, slowly standing up shortly after.
"I need to go." She says, but I stop her by grabbing her arm. "Wouldn't you rather stay here with me? I have supplies, and plus, I'd try my hardest to protect you." I declare, and she thinks about it for a moment.
"Okay. Thank you. My name's Thistle." She says, kneeling down beside me. She examines the tent, and strokes the sleek waterproof fabric. "You know, I've set up a tent before."
"The name's Astre. And great. I could really use your help."
Garnet Limerick, (D1), City:
So, luxury carries on, even in The Hunger Games? This is wicked!
I lie down in this silky smooth bed, preening the luxurious fabrics. Engulfed in such comfort, my eyes bulge and I snap up. I remember why I'm here. I'm here to kill!
Why am I rolling around in a satiny bed when I could be outside hunting for tributes? I quickly reel out of the bed and slip on my combat boots, grab my backpack and head out the door of the room.
Scurrying down the auburn staircase, I find the entrance of the elephantine building and take off, to find my passage blocked by falling rain. Hm, not much I can do about that.
My left hand strung around a scarlet machete, I head off into the rain, and it's actually heavier than I expected. We don't get rain much in District 1, and when we do I stay inside. But it feels kind of good, not much difference to a warm shower.
So here I am. Hunting in The Hunger Games. I should feel great. But I don't.
Why did I shoot my runty little arm up and volunteer? Why did I want to kill, and risk my life in the process? I hate the Capitol for what they've done, and for a second I was supporting it. Taking part in this horrible game.
But there's no turning back now. I need to win. I need to fight. And once I meet up with the careers, I'll use them to my advantage and pick them off, one by one. Because even when tied in this horrible mess, I'm still going to give it a shot. Even if it means losing my life during the routine.
A Prayer Gone Wrong
Mary Solar, (D6), Village:
I sit down in the middle of this hut, my back facing the entrance of the hut and my eyes sealed. I'm kind of new to this, but now that I'm in the middle of this mess, I'm going to give it a shot.
"Um... Hi, God. My name's Mary. I know a few people back at home who do this, and you usually seem to follow their orders, so... I guess I'll try this out. I'm just really, really scared, God. I'm not sure if I can do this. It's all too much. Killing other kids? It's a living nightmare." I whisper.
"I just pray... Please, give me the strength to kill. I know for sure that I will try my absolute hardest. But I need strength. I need the strength to pull through and claim a kill."
"And, I will go down with a fight. Definitely. But, I need it. I need strength. Without strength, I'm nothing."
And all of a sudden, I feel a sudden surge of strength, blooming somewhere deep down inside of me. What is this? Has my wish been granted? Has this really worked?
Then, an electrifying pain ignites, pricking my back and twirling. My eyes bulge, and I screech as the pain burns through even further into my back.
I cast a look over my shoulder and shriek. The girl from 1, ramming a glittering sword through my back, grins, her face agleam with pleasure and triumph.
"I'm disappointed, 6. You said you would try your absolute hardest," she snickers, "well try harder." She bickers, driving the blade deeper into my back. I squeal, flailing around, armed with the burning agony.
"And, didn't you say you would go down fighting? This fight you're putting up now is extremely pitiful." The girl purrs, lapping the blade around in my back as darkness fills my vision.
"Oh, and tell all the other tributes I said hi, wherever you end up." She giggles, then I watch as the tip of the sword comes soaring out of my stomach.
Slida Tain, (D10), Village:
I'm in my hut, shaking in my boots as I hear the horrifying, piercing shrieks from the hut across from me. The screams and screeches continue for about two more minutes, then the very first cannon blares.
The first of many.
Creeping to the entrance of my hut, I poke my head out and my jaw drops. Emerging from the hut, now splattered with blood, is Bliss Diamond. She grins with delight, flourishing a piked sword, garnished with blood.
That lunatic! She seemed so considerate and compassionate when I was around her, and now she's beaming as if she's won the lottery just for taking someone's life? That's cruel.
She's probably roaming the village, waiting to find a victim nice and cozy in their hut, then she'll strike. And maybe, I'll be her next victim.
Unloading a twinkling blade, I prepare to silence Bliss Diamond with it. Is this sinking to her level? Not really. If she can kill mercilessly, then so can anyone else.
Prepare yourself, District 1, because you're going down.
Indigo Rankine, (D8), Beach:
Cutting through the malicious lightning, the very first cannon of the games clangors, alarming the other tributes and I that no one's safe. Because these are the games, and only one person will be granted with victory.
I wonder who the cannon was for. Was it for my downhearted District partner, joyless and in despair? Or that young, harmless boy from District 9? Or could it possibly be that wicked, conniving girl from 2? I'll find out tonight.
The shocking chime of the cannon still echoes through my mind, and it's a sound I'll hear twenty-eight more times if I'm lucky. But there's no way I'll ever get that lucky. There's no way I'll win.
Believe in yourself, Indigo! I tell myself, but it's already clear, clear like water. I won't win the games. Up against a merciless, calculating female from District 2, a sword-wielding murderess from District 1, and even a hatchet hurling twelve year old from District 7, I'll always be at the bottom.
But, even knowing that I'm not going to win, I'll try my hardest. My family and friends still want to see me give it my all, I'm sure they do. And I will, for them. Not for the monsters who enjoy watching kids murder eachother.
Furry Anderson, (D14), City:
The cannon takes me by surprise, but I can only scowl as it blares. The first kill was supposed to be mine! I had it all planned out! But, then again, I can't do much damage with this coiled blade in my left hand.
I don't even know what the weapon is. It might be a sickle, but it's bladed to appear as some kind of butterfly, and a wooden, lengthy handle holds the silver in place. Oh well, it's better than nothing.
Sauntering through the empty streets, I try to feast my eyes on a tribute, but obviously, there's not one in sight. Come out and play! You're leaving me hanging, guys!
When I finally scope out a victim, the next cannon to sound will be courtesy of this blade tucked in my left hand, and second's good enough for me. But seriously, someone just needs to make an appearance soon, the viewers at home must be getting bored, and I don't blame them. Watching lightning for hours and hours won't get anyone thrilled and aflame with excitement.
So, the audience wants a show. And with me in these games, I plan to please them very, very soon.
Bliss Diamond, (D1), Village:
Praying? Okay, I'm sorry, but you have got to be kidding me. How could it possible increase your chances in your games? As soon as I saw the girl on her knees praying to God, I had to hold in my laughter.
Man, some people are just so brainless, it's not even funny. In fact, I'm probably the only one in this arena that has an IQ above fifteen! And for all these other weaklings that are scattered around me now, well, they shall soon be silenced, preferably with the tip of this sword I possess.
I gathered the girl's supplies before I fled, and it wasn't much. A wicked looking trench knife, and a backpack with a flashlight, beanie, bag of peanuts and a roll of wire. Wire? Do I look like that nerd from three?
Whisking away from the hut, I quickly pause to throw away the wire, slip on the beanie and flick on the torch, then I'm headed off again. But where to go? The forest up ahead? The beach to my right? Well, it doesn't matter. I'm sure each habitat will have victims I can put to the edge of this sword.
And here I am. Ready to kill more tributes. I lost all my kindness the minute the gong rang, but it's okay, because now I can embrace the new me. The merciless killer from District 1.
Luke Heart, (D11), Forest:
Florence and I have decided to set up a fire, risky, but we got this covered. We've veiled the fire with a sheet of fire reflective fabric Florence got in her backpack so the flame won't be visible to others, and we're both armed incase of attack.
The first cannon sounded earlier, about five or ten minutes ago, but Florence and I have remained quiet, when suddenly she breaks the silence.
"I wonder who it was..." She mutters, holding her drink bottle above the mist of smoke. "What are you doing?" I ask. "Oh, heating my water. My friend's dad said tepid water is better than cold. Didn't bother asking why, but it tastes good." She replies, pulling the water bottle back to her and taking a momentary sip.
"Oh, okay then. I hope Lily didn't die. But she's a fighter, that one," I mumble, stroking the bruise on my neck.
"Did you get that bruise from my knife? Sorry. I can get tougher than you think when I'm provoked." She takes another sip from her water. "I never even provoked you." I laugh, and she cocks her head towards me. "Well, you know what I mean." And we both share a laugh.
Then, to my left, a twig suddenly snaps. Frightened, I clamp my hand over my mouth, backing away as I grip my knife like a vice. Florence, surprisingly, remains calm, and whispers, "stay here. I'll ruin whatever or whoever's stalking us." And with that, she runs, leaving me panic-stricken.
After a minute or two, she returns, grinning as she cradles a bloody raccoon, a dagger wedged in it's heart. She plops it down infront of me, chuckling as she rips the knife out of it's chest. "Dinner is served!" And with that, we feast.
Artemis Maymoon, (D0), City:
I stroll through the city as night falls, and luckily come upon a street with four houses. The houses are pretty flash, and I'm guessing rich people were established in them.
Running up a marble staircase leading to the first house's front door, I lace my right hand around the golden knob and jerk it around, but I have no luck. It's locked.
I don't want to risk going to the other houses, because they'll already be locked, I just know it. Skimming my mind for ideas, my eyes fix on a rock tucked away under a bush, and I whirl around, making sure I'm not being hunted.
I grab the rock, and take aim. With a powerful swing, I launch the rock and roll away into the bushes. The sound of shattering glass, then silence. Perfect. The house must be unoccupied.
Peeking my head out of the green, rustling bushes, I gain balance and tiptoe towards the broken window, grappling the rock once more to dig out the jagged remains of glass before hopping into the house.
The moon slowly cascading into the sky, still sparkling with lightning and thunder, so I better scout out the house for an actual bed. The Gamemakers are very generous this year, aren't they?
Scurrying up the staircase, I can only grin. These games will be a piece of cake! Well, at least for me, these other brats can face my wrath, because the purge is beginning.
Falcon Generate, (D5), City:
It turns out that Griffin's company is actually pretty nice. He's a humble chap, that one. We continue to search for Tessa, and I stand in front of him with my spear adjusted incase someone not so nice stops by for a visit.
Before the games, just before breakfast, Tessa and I sorted things out. What happened was all a misunderstanding. Do I still trust Tessa? Of course. But that doesn't mean I won't forget to watch my back when we reunite. If we reunite.
"Falcon... I'm tired. Can't we find her tomorrow?" Griffin moans as I hold onto his hand. He's right. We still have all day tomorrow. But what if it's too late? What if the cannon that sounded earlier was for her?
I'll soon find out though, because the face of the tribute will be advertised later. And if she isn't dead, I'll search day and night for her. Because she needs my protection. I will shield her from danger, my life depends on it.
"Okay. We deserve a rest anyway. Do you still wanna try and find her tomorrow?" I ask him, and he nods. "She means a lot to you. And sure, I won't mind." He chirps, smiling as he cradles my left hand.
"Cool. There's a building over there we can slee—" "Falcon!" Someone shouts, and just by hearing the chime of her voice, I already know who it is as I whip around.
"Tessa!" I shriek, not caring that I'm giving away my whereabouts to nearby tributes, and I run towards her, almost tackling her to the ground with the bear hug I embrace her with.
We stay like this for minutes, though it feels like hours, and we break away. She has tears gushing from her eyelids, her beautiful, sky blue eyes glazed with the clear liquid of tears.
"Never let me go..." She murmurs.
Hallee Warren, (D10), Forest:
Ugh, what are the Gamemakers trying to do with the weather? Firstly, it started out scorching and blazing, then lightning and rain struck, and now it's so cold every time I breathe a mist of frosty air whirls through the air? Make up your mind Gamemakers, because this weather doesn't suit my taste.
Stumbling over twigs and logs, I know that I'm making a racket, but do I care? Let the tributes come. I seriously couldn't care less. Some at home say I have a good chance of winning, and that's only because they're wimps and I'm not.
I shake my head. I've been hunting all day, my legs hurt and my temples ache. My tounge hangs out like a dead dog's tongue would, and I need water. Because I've already downed the two bottles I found. Yeah, don't judge.
Staggering again, I fall over and my chest is pummeled by a jagged rock I land on. Groaning as I roll away from the large rock, I clasp my chest. My stomach begins to grumple, and I fall again, sprawled out like a rug.
This wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. It's hard. Hunting and gathering isn't something I'm used to. I might as well just die here, in my sleep, because I don't want to play this game anymore.
Maia Pithra, (D14), Beach:
I watch the lapping waves, squeezed inside a bundle of pea-green bushes. I've never seen the ocean before, but it's pristine. Majestic. Almost magical as the rolling water mesmerizes me.
The anthem unexpectedly blares, and I'm snapping back to reality as I'm eager to find out the fallen tribute of today. I hope it's that devious, merciless boy from my District. Or a career. Actually, it doesn't matter who it is. Because I know no none of these tributes, and their deaths won't affect me.
After the anthem, the face blooms into the sky. Mary Solar. District 6. I remember her. During training. We met each other when we were in the swordfighting station, she was bubbly and considerate. She's gone now. And there's nothing I can do to turn back the tables of her fate.
The Capitol seal bursts into the sky, the anthem plays again, and the blue light fades.
A human. A child. Gone. And she didn't deserve to die. Her family and friends won't be able to sleep tonight. They will be falling to their knees in puddles of their own tears, pulling the hair from their scalps and shrieking.
I can't let that happen to my family and friends. And I won't die. Not any time soon.
Jaia Ng, (D3), Village:
Whirling through the village, I feel more confident than ever. I've pretty much survived the first day, and all I've done was ran through the arena looking for a good place to hide.
The harmony of the anthem fills my ears, and I quickly kneel down behind a tree to see the deceased of today. It was only one person from the cannon I heard, there may have been more cannons throughout the lightning, and I may not have heard them.
The face is revealed to be that girl from District 6. She was cheerful. A bit too cheerful for my taste. Oh well. One more person I won't have to kill.
The glittering light fades away, and I shrug as I stand and run for a hut before I can be caught. Clutching a flickering sword in my right hand, I slash my way into the hut impatiently and plop down, sitting for no apparent reason. I'll get sleep later, right after I come up with a plan for the second day in the arena.
Loki Shadows, (D13), Beach:
Wistfully gazing at the electrifying portrait of the girl in the sky, I look at the large smile on her face and frown. I bet she wasn't smiling like that a second before her life was taken.
Mary was a nice girl. Caring. Copassionate. Ambitious. She was so enthusiastic and positive, and always held her head high. Now she's gone. Sewn into the fabrics of death.
And the saddest part is, everyone in the Capitol must have been cheering and pumping their fists as they watched her die, it makes me sick to my stomach that they can be joyful about this. It's grotesque.
In my heart, she won't be forgotten. And in many others, too. The hearts of District 6 citizens. Her family and friends. A lot of people, if they're considerate enough.
Death isn't a laughing matter, but it seems to be the top joke to the Capitol residents. I shake my head at the thought, as I don't want to let rebellion take over.
So, here I am. Sleeping beneath the palm trees, snuggled in my silky sleeping bag, I close my eyes and unleash a victorious smile. I've survived the first day!
But that's not an accomplishment in the arena, because there are many, many more days to come.
End of Day One
Nepeta Dawn, (D8), Flower Field:
My eyes flutter open, and I awaken to a rose pink sky, streaks of yellow slicing through, as if the sky's a piece of art, being dabbed and stroked with a paintbrush.
I sit up, flowers swaying around me in the gentle wind. I traveled here overnight to get away from the ferocious lightning, and it's not so bad. I tuck my knife into my cloak, prepared to survive the second day in the arena.
This cloak, by the way, is my token. My mother knitted it for me when I was twelve years old, and now I'm fourteen. I've worn it ever since my first reaping.
Rolling to my feet, I begin skipping through the multicolored, vibrant flowers, my golden hair swirling in the temperate wind. This is going to be a long day, and I plan to live through it.
But my wish may not come true, because I've just stumbled over a sleeping tribute.
Sydnee Wren, (D13), Flower Field:
I screech as the girl tumbles over me, then see that it's that girl from 8 who always wears the cloak. She's a year older than me, but smaller than Fredrick, who's twelve years old. She scrambles in the flowers, trying to regain her balance.
"Oh. Nepeta? It's Sydnee!" I bellow, and she whips around and looks into my eyes. "Oh. Hi, Sydnee." She murmurs, then Fredrick suddenly wakes up, gripping his sickle and springing to his feet, alarmed at the sight of another tribute.
"Fredrick, it's okay," I chirp, "she's harmless." "I'm sorry for waking you up." Nepeta mumbles, brushing the petals off of her cloak. "I'm going to go." "Hey, why don't you join us?" I ask, and she leisurely sweeps the hair out of her face.
Nepeta takes a minute to think about the request, but quickly smiles. "Yeah. Okay." She says, then takes out a bag of berries. "I picked these yesterday, I hope they're okay." She says, and Fredrick squeals triumphantly. "You've found blueberries!" He chimes, scooping a handful from the bag and drizzling them down his throat.
"Nepeta! Where did you find these? Are there more?" I ask, and she nods. "A lot more. Down by the lake." "The lake? We haven't seen a single source of water since these games began." I say, and Fredrick nods.
"Oh, it's near the mountains." She says, grinning. "Okay, we'll get some more later, do you need a rest?" I ask her, and she shrugs. "I could do with twenty minutes of sleep, the lightning kept me up half the night."
"Okay. Well, Fredrick, have a rest with her. I'll keep watch for half an hour. We've got a big day ahead of us."
Draco Light, (D4), Cave:
Last night was wonderful, and it's all because I shared the night with Isis Glow, my District partner and best friend. We talked for hours and hours, mostly about our family and friends back in District 4, then after our terrific chat, we squeezed inside this sleeping bag, nuzzling eachother to sleep.
I awake from my slumber, and see that Isis is still dozing. I quietly slip out of the sleeping bag and peck her on the cheek, admiring her beauty for a minute before leaning against the cave wall.
Pulling out my backpack, I rummage through the supplies, because I didn't get a very good look yesterday. I've got a short sword, pocket knife, loaf of bread, two canteens of water, rain jacket and flashlight. I wish I looked in the pack last night, because the flashlight would have been handy.
Oh well. This is just the pack I got. Isis also got a pack, so I'll look through that one too. I grab her backpack and pull it to my chest, unzipping the pack and examining the contents.
A nother rain jacket, a small bow and sheath of arrows, a bottle of water and a small pouch filled with strawberries. I unfasten the pouch and pop a strawberry into my mouth before lacing the pack secure.
"Isis. Wake up darling." I crawl towards her, shaking her awake. She stretches, then slowly careers her cheek. "You kissed me, didn't you?" She asks, and I nod. "I couldn't help myself."
She laughs, and so do I. "You're so cute, Draco." I can't help but blush. "You're even cuter, Isis." I say, and her cheeks gleam with rosy streaks.
"Look what's in your pack," I say, removing the bow and sheath of arrows for her. "Oh. I probably should have checked my pack yesterday." She giggles. "I should have too. I had a flashlight in my pack." I say, and she chuckles again.
"Come on, let's have breakfast." I tweedle, pulling out the strawberries I found in her backpack. "Okay." She says, her cheeks as red as the strawberries infront of me.
Meeting with Danger
Balcony Frocket, (D2), Mountains:
Bursting from the bushes, I jog down the pea-green mountains, having had just completed an odyssey for tributes lurking in the vicinity.
I plop down in the grass, right hand clutching this excellent bow. The rims have been encrusted with a dazzling lightning bolt pattern, and the arrows aren't too bad either.
I put the bow aside and remove the canteen of water from my rucksack. I only take two delicate sips, but it seems to fill my stomach. Stashing it away, I look into the sky.
Beautiful birds swirl and somersault, later vanishing into the sunset-shaded clouds. Magnificent. I adore the wilderness and outdoors, unlike most tributes from 2. Suddenly, I'm now thinking about District 2.
Get a grip, Balcony, I tell myself. I'm here for victory and fame, not to daydream and sulk. All of a sudden, I'm prodded on the back, and I shriek as I whip around. My bow's unloaded. I'll be a goner in a minute.
"Haha. Don't have a heart attack," Sarona snickers, covered with scars. Sarona. I like her. She's determined, vicious, and mostly, she's a fighter. "Oh. Hey." I guffaw.
"I'm guessing the cannon yesterday was caused by you?" I say. "Possibly. I pushed the girl from seven off a cliff, I'm not sure if the cannon was for someone else, or if she slowly died from blood loss." She snarls. I briskly nod.
"Come on, have a seat." I say, beckoning her towards me.
Sarona Merion, (D2), Mountains:
Balcony's alright. But he's probably the weakest and puniest of the careers. Period.
He's humble, but he can be somewhat devious. He has a talent with a bow and arrow, but can he execute these games and come out victorious? Well, not with me standing in his way.
I will gather the remaining careers, and maybe a few other skilled fighters, then it will begin. The elimination of my fellow careers.
I will backstab my way to victory, if that's the case.
"Any kills?" I ask Balcony, and he shakes his head cluelessly. "Nope. Not yet." He chuckles, and I can't help but smirk with satisfaction.
For a while, we chat. Maybe for ten minutes or so. He doesn't talk much. And, he's more intelligent than I expected. Maybe he'll figure out my strategy.
"Sarona, I think we should hunt. You know, gather the other careers?" Balcony hums. "Well, that's a splendid idea, Balcony!" I chime with sarcasm entwined. But really, it is a great idea. The sooner the better.
"Okay, let's eat before we set off. I'm starving." Balcony chirps, and I nod. I wrench my backpack to my chest and fish out a crystal clear container, containing many apples.
Removing an apple from the container, I nibble on the outer crimson layer until I reach the juicy center. As I recline in the woolly grass, I'm mesmerized by images of the crown.
The crown that will soon be mine.
The Lightning Returns
Fredrick Thorton, (D9), Mountains:
It took Sydnee, Nepeta and I ten or twenty minutes to reach the mountains, but we've finally made it! The lake, clear like cellophane, bring me pride and hope, and I immediately engulf in the crystalline water.
After two minutes of chugging the luminous water, I lift my head and take a tremendous breath before dunking my head back into the water.
And finally, after another minute, I fill my stomach until the water sloshes around with each movement I make. I wipe away the water on my chin and flip open the lid of my water bottle.
Nepeta and Sydnee ring the water out of their hair, and also fill up their drink bottles before we head off. Nepeta bashfully smiles at me, then slings on her backpack.
"You ready to go, Freddie?" She hoots, Sydnee chuckling behind her. Every time she catches a glimpse of me, she blushes, and I can't help but return rosy cheeks.
Then suddenly, rain begins pouring heavily and lightning bangs in all directions. Nepeta shrieks, diving into a nearby bush. "Go away! Tell it to go away!" She screams.
"Does she have a phobia?" I ask Sydnee, and she shrugs. "Nepeta, come out. It's just lightning, darling." Sydnee mumbles, but Nepeta shivers, rocking back in forth in her bush.
What's gotten into her?
Jasmine Firethorn, (D9), Forest:
Rain, again? Ugh! My hair's already too heavy to drag around, rain just make it even harder!
I stomp through puddles, wrenching my hair in order to ring the water out, but the amount of rain is escalating! I'm so mad!
Thowing my scythe into the brunette mud below me, I back away into the bushes and kneel down, removing an empty flask from my backpack.
I place it under the leaves, allowing the water to run through the middle of the leaves and stream into the bottle. The amount of lightning also elevates, so I can barely hear myself swearing like a demon.
After filling my drink bottle, I prod the clamp and throw it into my beige backpack, creeping back to where I left my scythe. But when I return, the scythe has vanished.
Seriously, this can't get any worse. I tug on a tree branch and snap it off, ready to bash in the salvager's skull with a powerful branch-blow to the head.
Hallee Warren, (D10), Forest:
The girl was stupid. What kind of bonehead would dump their only weapon in the mud and run off to dry their hair? I just don't understand dumb people. Of course I took the scythe.
I creep through the trees, hopping over logs and slipping in pools of mud, hoping to find a place where I can set up camp. Suddenly, I recieve a feeling. It's a revolting feeling, and wind begins to whirl around.
The wind speaks to me. Run, Hallee. Run! And of course, I do. The feeling gives me goosebumps, and then suddenly, the feeling comes to life.
A girl emerges from the bushes, dripping wet hair masking her merciless grin. She brushes the hair away, allowing me to catch a glimpse of the horrifying, almost devil-like smile. It's filled with hatred and disgust, but what have I done wrong? Taken away her weapon? Oh, get over it, little girl.
Her face suddenly glows with determination and she lets out a mighty battle cry, advancing on me with a tree branch. A tree branch? Seriously?
I'll admit it. I'm scared of her. But fear will not overcome me. In fact, I'll use it to my advantage. Because, fear gives you adrenaline, an almighty rush. And I will fight. Fight to kill.
She crouches and rests the tree branch on her shoulder, as if she's ready to strike an incoming ball, but instead, the branch comes soaring for my face. And she swings, her grin not wavering once.
Jasmine Firethorn, (D9), Forest:
I've gone mad. And why? For what reason? Was it determination? Fear? Pure hatred? I'm not sure. And I don't think I want to figure out. But it's too late. Too late to apologize.
The tree branch hurtles through the air as I send it flying towards the girl, and it slams her squarely in the face. She yelps, stumbling backwards into a nearby bush as blood trickles from the openings in her face.
My devious grin slopes. How much pressure did I put into that throw? Enough to mutilate the poor girl's face. My stomach roars with disgust at what I have done, and I feel like chundering.
My sisters and parents have seen what I've done. I can sense it. What would be on their minds right now? They wouldn't be too impressed. And little Magnolia, boy, she would be so ashamed.
I wheel on my heels and run. Run for all I'm worth.
Bliss Diamond, (D1), City, Abandoned Car Yard:
I strut past crude cars, wishing I had something to tie my hair with. Don't ask why. I just prefer my hair in a ponytail. Well, anyway...
The sky's a perfect cobalt blue, and rain is bucketing down. Pretty gloomy here. I remove a flickering knife from my backpack, then quickly swathe some hair around the handle, then tie up my hair.
I secure the knife behind my head, and oddly, it holds up my ponytail, which I quickly braid. Now, time to put more weaklings to death. I hold the leathery handle of my sword, then creep between cars.
Lightning crackles above me, and double the amount of water begins cascading around me. Ugh, seriously? How can I kill in this horrible weather? Well, it's a waste of time trying to answer my rheotorical question,
Suddenly, something beautiful approaches me. But they don't know I'm here. Two boys and a girl, huddled together, jog through the rain, each of them unarmed. The time has come.
Griffin Oak, (D7), City, Abandoned Car Yard:
Tessa, Falcon and I huddle together, gliding through the skys waterfalls. How much rain do the gamemakers hold? I'm not even this wet when I go swimming in the ponds in District 7!
We have reached this car yard after a winding journey, and I kind of forget about the fact that any second now we could be attacked without warning. But who's stupid enough to attack us in this horrible weather?
"Falcon, what if someone attacks us?" Tessa cooes. I guess we have the same thing on our mind. Falcon sighs, then somewhat chuckles. "No one's stupid enough to attack us in this weather, Tessa. I assure you." Falcon replies, when I see a figure emerging from the rain.
"Not even me?" Bliss purrs slyly, spinning a twinkling blade as she comes forth from the harsh rain and into our vision. All hell breaks loose in less than a second.
Tessa Powers, (D5), City, Abandoned Car Yard:
"Griffin! Get out of here!" I screech, thrusting him behind Falcon as I ready my knife. Bliss grins, hops to the ground and rolls under a car. Griffin shrieks, and I whip around and face him. "Run!" I bark, brutality tied to the roar gushing from my mouth.
Bliss comes reeling out from beneath the car, and I launch my knife in her direction. Just when she has slanted into a standing position, she flies to the ground, evading the puckered knife.
The knife bangs into a glass window of a car. Shards of glass blast in all directions, and I quickly look back and see Griffin crouching down behind a car. Bliss has vanished, but she'll soon return.
I stride towards Griffin, yanks his arms, and begin screaming. "Get out of here! Now! Run!" I howl, and he's twirling on his heels, brimming with fear.
"Let the boy stay, I don't mind." Bliss hoots, towering aloft on a teal shaded car. Her eyebrows coil, and her beautiful eyes arch, transforming snake-like and cold within seconds.
"Die! I'll hang your heads on my wall!" She shrieks, whirls, then begins hurtling from car to car. Bliss has proved yet another skill, acrobatics. She swings like a monkey, then once again, disappears into the inky rain.
Sarona Merion, (D2), Mountains:
As Balcony and I wolf down our breakfast, my eyse hastily fix on something below us, concealed by bushes and greenery. I literally drop my apple as I discover what's below. Balcony's pupils gun to mine.
"Sarona, what is it?" He asks, nudging my arm. My frown slowly elevates to a grin. "Balcony, take a look down there." I leisurely hiss, and he quickly gazes towards the object. He turns to me once more, then slides on his sheathe of arrows.
"Sarona, I think we have found ourselves our first kill."
We quickly stash all our needed equipment into backpacks, eager to get this over and done with. I catch hold of my swarthy sword, slide a few blades into my belt, then the two of us make a direct route for the tent below the mountains.
Furry Anderson, (D14), City:
I hear shrieks and roars, blasting from the car yard across from me. Finally! Some action, action I'm prepared to get involved in. I remove my odd weapon from my backpack, munch on some dried fruit, then head towards the screams.
As I run through the gates, another scream is hurled into the open, and I immediately know who the scream belonds to. That puny little boy from 7. Haha, he'll be an easy kill.
Crouching down, I snake through cars, elusively. Silence is a skill I have great experience in. Then suddenly, I hear screeching, then a shattering sound. The sound of broken glass. The battle must be getting intense, or maybe, it's just getting started.
Here I come, weaklings. You better make some room for Furry Anderson.
Hallee Warren, (D10), Forest:
My fingers travel to my mutilated face, and I stroke the crispy slits in my face. My vision has turned somewhat fuzzy, my teeth feel fluffy, and my throat has definitely been ruptured. Clutching my face, I lose hold of my scythe and fall to my knees.
The pain is unbearable. My eyes sizzle with every blink, my nose has been knocked out of place, my lips have become puckered and bruised, and all the bones in my face have been cracked and jerked into new positions.
Curling into a ball, I begin weeping. I don't want to die. I don't want to live. I need to make up my mind, and quickly. Give chase to the girl who made a mangling mess of my face and take my anger out on her by slamming a scythe blade into her skull? Or remain unresponsive here and wait for someone to murder me?
No. My family and friends wouldn't want me to lie here and give up. They would want me to try my best, give it my all, then go out with a bang. I plan to grant them that wish, even if it means the death of me.
Gripping the scythe handle, I slide through the leaves and foliage, take a minute to gain balance, then stumble in direction of the girl who wrecked my face.
Another One Bites The Dust
Astre Celestius, (D0), Forest:
Thistle and I sit in our tent, which took hours to set up last night. We chat, mainly just about the other tributes and our Districts. I'm still worried about being found, but I tried my best to cover the tent with leaves, vines, logs and dirt.
Thistle strokes her purple hair bashfully, then I decide to blurt out a question, a stupid questions, which has been on my mind for hours. "Thistle, why is your hair purple?" I ask, guffawing at the stupid question.
She giggles, then replies, "Believe it or not, it's natural. My mother was born with purple hair." Then suddenly, the fabric of the tent behind her is split open, and an arrowhead is driven through the back of her head. She lurches forward, the arrow zipping through her forehead, then falls face-foward onto my lap.
I screech, staring at her once purple hair, now dyed a grotesque red. Her skull, nailed with the arrow, sprays a putrid, scarlet liquid, and the repellent stench of blood fills the tent.
Then, a questions creeps somewhere inside of me. Who shot the arrow? The cannon's symphonies fly out into the open, signifying Thistle's death.
I whirl around inside the tent, gain balance, then burst out of the tent, leaving behind everything apart from a knife. I gaze to the tribute who shot the arrow, Balcony Frocket, just for a second, then spin on my heels, sprinting as fast as I can away from the male from District 2.
Balcony Frocket, (D2), Forest:
I load the next arrow, ready to take the boy down, but Sarona stops me, grabbing my bow and lowering it. "It doesn't matter. He'll die sooner or later." She says, and struts towards the tent, bending down and crawling inside.
"Who is it?" I ask, my bow poised as she investigates the dead body. She simply chuckles, then drags the body of the dead tribute out onto the wet grass.
"It's the runt from 7, the girl who I almost killed yesterday," she snickers, bringing her knife to the neck of a dead Thistle, sawing away at the girl's throat. My jaw drops.
"What the hell are you doing?" I hiss, and she continues hacking away at the corpse until nothing but the head remains in her hand. "Keeping the head." She says, laughing like a witch, swinging the head by Thistle's hair.
Artemis Maymoon, (D0), City:
When the cannon sounds, I can only shrug. One obstacle I won't need to take down. I jerk forward, absorbed in sleek fabrics that veil the bed I recline in. I had a great sleep last night.
I yawn, grab the two backpacks I managed to find yesterday, then begin rummaging through the items. Some sliced of bread in a container. A canteen of water. Two daggers. A combat sword. String. Some crackers. Yep. That's it.
Taking the string, I quickly lace the combat sword around my hip, then tuck away my two daggers before wrapping the silky scarf around my neck. Today's going to be a good day.
All of a sudden, the house begins rattling brutally, and things around me begin falling, crashing and shattering. Tied in the commotion, I'm hurled out of the bed, where I'm greeted with a falling bookshelf.
I jump out of the bookshelf's path, allowing the glazed wood to slam into the marble floor, sending chunks of wood in all direction. I run for the bedroom door, grab the knob, and tug. Locked.
Really? Now? Then suddenly, to add to all the destruction, perfect holes begin opening in the walls, and puckered arrows pop out, ready to skewer me. Oh, I don't think so.
The first arrow comes soaring towards me, and thinking on my feet, I remove a dagger and slit the arrow in half while somersaulting towards a window, the window that will allow me to escape.
Two more arrows come flying, and I reel to the floor, evading the thin, silver blades. Then, I'm suddenly pricked in the abdomen with an arrow, and thankfully, not too deep. I remove the arrow, allowing a slender pool of blood to spurt from my stomach.
Reaching the window, I smash it open with the arrow that could have taken my life, then take an almighty leap. But only when I'm in the air, I realize I will only hit ground.
With deadly impact, my side smashes against the hard, cold concrete, crushing my bones, grazing my skin, and everything rummages inside of my body, sloshing, and without caring that I'm in the middle of The Hunger Games, I let out a deadly scream.
And then, I see her shadow. The sickle. The swing. The blood. And most painfully, the smile.