THE HUNGRY GAMES

DirtyMick32

CHAPTER ONE

Katniss was startled awake by screaming, a screaming that was male, and riddled with agony; and almost fell out of the tree. She caught herself by a branch, forgetting that she had tied herself to the tree. She tried to shake the haziness of sleep from her mind, the fuzzy thing distracting her from the almost certainty of her death.

"Real smooth, Kat," she muttered to herself. Then she remembered the screaming. It had grown a little quieter, like at a farther distance from her; but it was still persistent. She tried to make out words, but couldn't. It was a frantic scream, a shrieking, high pitched, hysterical sound...a sound she had come to almost get used to.

Katniss waited for the cannon to go off. She would not leave the tree until then. She waited for a long time but the cannon never came. Maybe whoever it was had gotten away. She strained her ears, and could hear nothing over the sound of the birds. She untied the rope from around her legs, and tucked it into the backpack. Every time she looked in there, she almost expected to see something she had overlooked, a small surprise in the barbarism that had become her immediate life.

Climbing down from the tree had become something she became accustomed to, she moved silently. She didn't want to be detected by any of the bloodthirsty psychos that wanted her dead. She walked through the forest, keeping her eyes open, and an arrow nocked...just in case. Katniss let her mind wander to Peeta...she hoped he was okay. Even though he had been leading Cato and the others to her, she was sure he didn't want her dead. Self-preservation and all that. She had to find him, to protect him.

She was jarred out of her thoughts suddenly by a noise to her left side. A soft rustling sound, a sound that would have been imperceptable to anyone other than her...her senses were sharp these days; sharper than her normal level, which was far superior to anyone's she knew. You had to be sharp to hunt.

The rustling sounded to Katniss like someone clumsily walking through the forest, but at about a quarter mile away...like there weren't kids killing each other out here.

"Someone's getting sloppy," she whispered, and climbed the nearest large tree, to get a good look. After a few minutes, a figure took shape through the leaves and branches. It was a woman, one Katniss hadn't seen before. She was staggering through the forest, kind of rocking as she walked. Her head was down, looking at the ground, with her dirty hair in her face. As she shambled closer, Katniss could see her shirt was ragged, torn, and covered in blood. What the hell had happened to her, and how had she survived after losing that much blood?

The woman was breathing very loud and there was something not quite right about it. Did it sound like growling? Could that be what she was doing? Why would she be growling? And was she not worried about attracting attention from the other kids out here? Katniss' mind reeled with questions. Best to shut that off, and focus. She drew her bow back, keeping the tip on the strange woman.

A new noise, off to her right. This was a sound she was familiar with. The voice of Cato.

"Is that her? Get her!" Katniss could tell they were close, but she was closer to the woman than they were. She turned, aiming her arrow at the three teenagers closing in on the woman. The first was a brunette, who was excellent with throwing knives; the second was a boy with a long knife, and the third was Cato himself, wielding a sword.

As the teens got closer to the woman, she stopped, listened, and turned toward them. She broke out into a run, growling and snarling at them. The brunette girl threw several knives, hitting their mark. They all chunked into the woman's chest...but she kept coming. It was as if she didn't even know the knives were in her chest! Not missing a beat, brunette girl stabbed the woman in her neck, expecting this to drop her instantly. To brunette girl's surprise, the strange woman grabbed her, and started chewing her throat. Blood gushed in a fountain from the bite, and she tried to scream; but was unable. All that came out was a gurgling gasp.

As the strange woman was feasting upon brunette girl, the boy with the knife reached her. He screamed with effort and determination as he buried the knife in the woman's back. The woman growled, and turned on him. Katniss could see the color drain from his face, before the woman was on top of the boy. The kid couldn't have been more than 14. Katniss couldn't see what the woman was doing to him, but she could hear his screams and see blood spraying up from his body.

Then the woman's head fell to the ground, and Cato wiped the blade of his sword on her torn and bloody shirt.

"Bitch wasn't even one of the tributes! What the hell?!" Cato breathed heavily, "Now what the hell am I gonna do?"

He stood there for a while, looking down at the dead bodies of his little death team. Katniss could only imagine what was going on in his mind. She didn't understand him, he was alien to her. Cato turned to finally walk away, and he heard a gasp. He spun to see what had made the sound, and was terrified to see that the brunette was sitting up. Her skin was a blue-gray, and her eyes were glazed over and bloodshot. She turned to look at him, and was on her feet before he knew what had happened. She snarled as she ran at him full speed. Purely out of reflex, and because she would have been on him in another second, he had buried the sword in the brunette's left eye. It made a disgusting squelching sound as he pulled the sword from her head, and she crumpled to the ground without a sound.

That was enough for Cato. He turned and ran as fast as his feet could carry him.

After all that, Katniss relaxed the bow, and sat in thought. She couldn't believe what she had just seen. Why had the cannon not gone off after the two teens had been killed? And how had the brunette gotten back up? And dammit, why didn't the cannon go off?

She heard a rustling sound below, and looked down, only to see the teenage boy getting to his feet. He breathed loudly, and there was a hint of a growl as he shambled away.