Last Night: A 'Hunger Games' one-shot.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All recognisable characters belong to Suzanne Collins and the appropriate people. I only twist things and make a story out of someone else's ideas.
A/n: Before I start – this will only ever be a one-shot fan-fiction. Focuses on one of our favourite love-to-hate careers, Cato, and his last night in the arena and his reflections. I'm going by the book, mainly because I don't like the whole Glimmer/Cato thing, and I'm only going to portray Cato and Clove as District Partners and allies. Even though Cato did stay with her during her death, Clove was never mentioned to be particularly close to him. The only thing I will take from the film is his ending speech on the Cornucopia, because for a moment, he doesn't seem like a psychopathic lunatic. Much. Other parts will include Cato's Reaping, and we meet the mentors. I'm giving Cato a back-story, and it will be long. So don't knock me for flexing the character out. I'm not going into detail with the mentors; their only mentioned to show that they are present. This is purely Cato, the other main character being Clove, despite her being dead through most of this.
Anything in italics is memories of the arena or his part in the Hunger Games; he goes through his final couple of weeks of memories while he's dying. Anything in non-italics is the present, as in Cato's being killed and eaten.
Rated 'M' for gory parts.
Cato's POV
"If you shoot me, he goes down too," I smirked at the small girl in front of me. True, she was in the better strategic position; her standing opposite holding an armed bow and arrow, with another arrow to spare should she need it. I did have a short, yet sharp, blade at my side, but for reasons including not wanting an arrow in my head, I didn't reach for it, choosing instead to keep my main focus on the girl and Lover Boy. I was holding her District Partner in a choking headlock, one arm in front and the other behind – each hand resting on a bicep. I held him tighter; the pressure would eventually grow, not climaxing until either his neck snapped and he was dead, or I got an arrow in the head, in which case we'd both go down to the yapping Mutts waiting just a mere few feet below us. The Mutts were baying for our blood. They'd already – unsuccessfully – attempted to climb to the top of the Cornucopia. However, because of my remarkable actions about a week ago which involved me, my sword, Lover Boy's leg and plenty of blood, said Lover Boy had got a Mutt to bite him in the leg. I think it was the Mutt who resembled Thresh that got him.
Ah, let me explain my last point. See the Game-makers – always liking to surprise us tributes – had decided that watching people die, it's fair to say a good majority were killed by my hand, was not enough for the Capitol audience and the torture of the families back home (I say torture because I think of Clove's parents), the Game-makers decided to use dead tributes DNA – specifically the eyes and hair colour – and mould it with the bodies of wolf like creatures that had strange human qualities. Such, as being able to stand on hind legs and wave to fellow Mutts. I had learned a lot about these human qualities of the Mutts when I had spent a great deal of my afternoon running away from them. Let me further elaborate on what I mean by moulding the DNA of dead tributes to wolf-like Mutts. Glimmer, the District 1 girl and an ally of mine until she was killed was by tracker-jackers, was strikingly blond and had emerald green eyes. One of the Mutts snapping at the Cornucopia had blond hair and green eyes identical to Glimmer's, until an arrow went through her neck a few minutes ago when Lover Boy was struggling and I was catching my breath; that Mutt now lied about 10 feet away from the main group, in a pool of blood. Imagine you'd killed someone and were not expecting any part of them to return, to suddenly find yourself surrounded by Mutts which bore similar physical characteristics to someone you killed, knew or watched die.
I caught sight of the Mutt's ordering themselves around and launching each other up into the air as another attempt to hack us each to pieces. Thresh-Mutt seemed to be the one to watch; the Mutt had the powerful limbs that got the real Thresh his 10 in training. The Mutt however, seemed to want Katniss as a snack.
Focusing my attention back to the unpleasant situation I was currently in, I looked harder at the girl standing opposite me. This was the first time I'd properly seen her in a while. I don't mean when we'd caught her up a tree; I was too busy trying to get away from the tracker- jackers which she'd so kindly dropped on our camp-site. Not to mention she blew up our food and had a hand in my 3 allies deaths – indirectly or directly. She was tensed for battle; her arm muscles would surely be aching from helping Lover Boy walk and carrying the bulk of what meagre supplies they had left. However, they were still tensed, clasping onto the bow. Her hair was a dark brown and looked almost invisible in this dark night; a striking contrast to my blond hair. There were so many contrasts to me and her, I started comparing them; I was tall, she was small, I was muscular, she was slight. I'd almost forgotten about Lover Boy until I felt him attempt to struggle again. Her eyes were grey, something I'd heard that was common from where she was from in District 12. Similar. So many people, so similar. In District 2, everyone was diverse and individual. Sure, everyone was similar to each other when it came to the Games. We were blood-thirsty, trained to not be afraid of a kill, but to embrace it and not want to act squeamish and run away. We were trained to know better than that, which is why Careers won. Because we were the best trained, the best prepared – mentally and physically. I didn't regret doing what I had done, I only really regret not going after the girl from 12 before it mattered. Now, I was stuck with the consequences of my actions. At least I knew now how she got that 11 in training.
I began choking Lover Boy harder, forcing the girl into a reaction. I didn't dare take my eyes off of her but I would guess by now that the boys lips would be a blue-purple colour and his face paler than it already was, taking into account the loss of blood from the leg wound I gave him. I could hear his breathing becoming laboured and knew she would have to act sooner or later. I was hoping it would be later so I could just concentrate on the last fight; me and her. That's what it came down to in the end, wasn't it? The audience wanted a show, and I was going to give them one. The Girl on Fire (what a lame nickname) against a brutal Career tribute, hell-bent on going home.
"Go on! Shoot, and we both go down and you win. Go on. I'm dead anyway. I always was, right? I couldn't tell that until now. How's that, is that what they want? I can still do this… I can still do this. One more kill. It's the only thing I know how to do, bringing pride to my District. Not that it matters," I spoke quickly and harshly to the girl, called Katniss, trying to make her doubt her next move. It was easy to spot, if you knew what to look for: she shoots me, I go down and get eaten my Mutts, she miraculously saves Lover Boy before he, too, falls to the Mutts, they win and go home and live life like a fairytale being 'star-crossed lovers' and all. One problem; this was the Hunger Games, and fairy-tales weren't real.
I didn't expect what happened next.
Lover Boy decided to be smart and made an 'X' shape on my hand that was uncovered and free to the world. I realised what it meant about a half-second after Katniss did. By then, the arrow was already in my hand. Instinctively, I released Lover Boy. However, he pushed me off the side of the Cornucopia. By then the Mutts had come on to me. I grabbed the short blade – the only one I still had left – and jumping to my feet, I began to attack them. There should be 21 Mutts here, that's if they were using everyone and not only the most prolific dead tributes. By prolific, I mean the Careers and other surprisingly high-scoring tributes such as Rue or Thresh.
The one that resembled Marvel came at my flank, I however, raised my sword just in time to mesh with it's mouth. Marvel-Mutt didn't seem to like that, so it pushed my arm across my broad body and into the Cornucopia, creating a spine-tingling, nerve-wrecking metal on metal noise. I felt a stab of pain as the hand which wasn't holding the sword, and therefore one I had used in a vain attempt to protect my flank, came under attack from Thresh-Mutt. I felt the blood dripping down my hand and raised it quickly to survey the damage. I had to force bile back down my throat at the fact that Thresh-Mutt decided it didn't want the skin, but the muscle and everything between that and the bone on the upper part of my hand and my pinky and ring finger on my left hand. Shaking my head quickly to lose all thoughts of giving in, I slammed the sword into the back of Marvel-Mutt's head, causing it's head to whack against the Cornucopia. I heard several cracks as it's skull broke, and it slumped to ground. One of the other Mutts, the crippled boy from 10 I think, pushed the dead Mutt to one side – near the corpse of dead Glimmer-Mutt – and took it's place. I glanced around quickly, and noticed the arrow still deeply embedded in Glimmer-Mutt's neck.
I carried on swinging and manoeuvring out of the Mutt's way – away from their hands which sported at least 10cm long claws, and away from their teeth, which I know now do terrible damage with a small bite. Fearing I would lose, I thought of the only way to get myself back to safety. One Mutt, I believe it was the District 5 girl, attempted to bite my arm. I recoiled back, throwing my body weight into the Cornucopia. The Mutt lunged. It went for my sword arm, and the force threw my arm back – possibly dislocating something, as searing pain shot through my upper arm – and another metal on metal noise was heard as my sword scraped the ridges of the golden Cornucopia. I don't know how, but I managed to push District 5 girl-Mutt back, allowing me some room to at least breathe without the Mutts in my face.
I glanced around, desperate for a way to get out of this other unfortunate situation. There was a bit of good news though; remembering I had an arrow lodged in my hand, I pulled it out (which was painful) and lodged it in the neck of the Mutt closest to me, District 10 boy-Mutt. The Mutt was pushed aside by it's competitors, just as the same Mutt had done when Marvel-Mutt was killed. I remembered my arm being hacked at seconds ago, and fearing it may be completely useless, I chanced a glance. There was no damage! None at all! The body armour that I'd received at the feast protected against the Mutt's teeth.
Confidence boosting, I realised my only chance of getting out of this would be to move around back to the tail of the Cornucopia and rejoin the District 12 tributes – then I'd kill them.
I started moving, hacking my way through the Mutts and trying to keep my head – I had to know where I was going. I had to win.
I took my eye off the prize for a second when I chanced a glance upwards – still night-time. This is the big finale the Game-makers wanted then. I felt a searing pain in my hand – my sword hand – as most of the skin and muscle was ripped away. Screaming in agony, I kicked the Mutt. However, another was ready to take the place. All too soon I was mobbed. I tried kicking my way out of there, clutching my hands to my chest in a small attempt to keep them from further harm. I kicked out again, and was brought to a sudden stop when I recognised the Mutt who was about to drag me down to the ground. Clove.
'Clove... Clove. What did they do to you? It's me, Cato...? I'm sorry I couldn't be there to save you. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I stayed with you when you died, I went after the one who killed you. I tried to kill the girl. I should have gotten there sooner... to save you,' I was grateful that the Game-makers couldn't read my mind; seeing Clove as a Mutt got to me. It caused me to stop and not do anything for a second. A second was all it took to seal my fate. I was dragged to the ground, Mutt's tearing at my body wherever flesh was exposed to their teeth and claws. They didn't stop.
After a few moments, the Mutts dragged me into the Cornucopia and started feeding on me more there. One kept tearing my hands to pieces. One was disposing of my feet; I could hear the tear of the flesh as it was dragged off my body. Then a crunch as a bone went with it. The Mutts couldn't eat bones though and my toe bone ended up on the floor. A couple of Mutts, Clove included, decided to get started on tearing my body armour off. It was slow and painful and every time their teeth or claws were anchored in, when they pulled, it caused me to scream and beg for the suffering to end. They were pulling off my skin while they were ridding me of the body armour. I kept screaming. It was agony. Torture. Blinding hot pain coursing through my body.
I lost track of the time as it went by and instead focused on me actually being in the arena and the week of preparation we had before that...
The Reaping and 'Goodbye'.
District 2 main town centre was full. I stood with the other 18 year old males. I was easily the biggest one there. I'd beaten all of the ones who had dared pick a fight with me and the ones I'd been put against in battles in the training centre. District 2 was what was called a Career District – usually Districts 1, 2 and 4 made up the Career alliance. If they weren't killed at the Cornucopia bloodbath. The reason these Districts made up the Career Districts and not the others is because we had the best trades and were the richest Districts. And we agreed with the Capitol ways. District 1 supplied Luxury Goods to the Capitol. District 4 supplied Fish and Sea-Food to the Capitol. District 2 was the favourite District of the Capitol, as they supplied Weapons and Battle Equipment to the Capitol. It was a little-known fact, but District 2 was also where the Peacekeepers were trained – they were trained in the large hill bang in the centre of the District.
District 2 was made made up of little Villages surrounding this large hill. It was fair to say that there was little trouble, considering the amount of Peacekeepers we had in the District. And most of the younger people were preoccupied with training for the Games to actually cause any trouble.
The Reaping Ceremony was done in a courtyard in the shadow of this big hill. Everyone was forced to attend – unless you were on your deathbed. The males were stood on the left, and the females on the right. The 12 year olds – the youngest eligible age for the Games – stood closest to the stage, and the further back you went, the older the kids. I was right at the back.
Our escort – Georgia Hillowoffoway – took to the stage. She was a Capitol resident, dispatched each year to help the mentors (past Victors of the Games) sort the tributes out and gather up sponsors (rich Capitol residents who were willing to spend lots of money on a tribute to send in gifts of medicine, food and weapons). Georgia was wearing huge bright neon pink heels, a vibrant colourful dress that made me blind when I looked at it. Her hair was colourful and spiky – green to be exact. It was a weird combination.
"Well, welcome, welcome, welcome District 2 to the 74th Annual Hunger Games! Happy Hunger Games," a little fake giggle from Georgia and she carried on with her speech. "We have a special film all the way from the Capitol!
I turned to the screen to watch the film. It was the same each year; a film about war and how everyone killed each other and that the Hunger Games were a pageant of courage, sacrifice and bravery and the lone Victor was bathed in riches.
The screen turned black and the bowls which contained our names were unveiled. Each year, a persons name was entered an additional time. Mine was in 7 times as I hadn't a need to take out tessarae.
"The time has come to choose the tributes for District 2! May the odds be ever in your favour! Ladies first? Shall we?" The hand of Georgia shot into the females bowl and pulled out a slip of paper with a name on it: "Clove Fullham!" Georgia cried. Clove, a 15 year old girl who I knew because she was in my training school stepped forwards proudly, daring anyone to volunteer in her place. She was hard-faced and tough. She had black hair and dark brown eyes. She wasn't pretty in the traditional sense, but she would be if you liked tough girls. No one did or showed signs of volunteering, yet. She stood by Georgia, smirking at the crowd. She was a deadly knife-thrower; I'd never seen her miss before.
"Any volunteers?" A moment of pause, "Well, here's District 2's female tribute,Clove Fullham! Now onto the gentlemen." Once again, Georgia's hand shot into the reaping bowl, this time it contained the male's names. "Davis Harrow!" A young boy of about 14 stepped forward. I didn't know him, but he looked like he would be ready to take part in a few years, not yet. He stepped up to the stage to stand next to Clove, who smirked and rolled her eyes at the boy. "Any volunteers?" A moments pause.
I stepped out of line and raised my hand; a Peacekeeper blocked my way to the stage. "I volunteer as a tribute for District 2," I said proudly, pushing my chest out to intimidate the other males. I could visibly see them glance uneasily at each other. Clove's eyes narrowed.
"Well, come here then," Georgia said, dismissing the other boy. He whispered a 'good luck' to me when we passed. Georgia took my hand and yanked me into the centre of the stage. "What's your name?" She was demanding of me.
"Cato Derrick," I said forcefully. The males were looking jealously at me. I smirked at them.
"Well, here's our District's tributes, Cato and Clove! May the odds be ever in your favour!" Georgia said. We were pushed into the town hall, on the far right of the back of the stage. As far as I was aware, the reaping was only held at the bottom of the big hill was to make District 2 seem impenetrable and unattackable. "You have 1 hour to say your goodbyes to your family before we leave for the Capitol."
I was led into a side room, Clove walking ahead of me to the next room. I walked in and it was spacious; there was a cream sofa and a couple of chairs. There were also 4 fully stocked bookshelves and some drinks and snacks available. I made myself comfortable while I waited for my family to come and see me off. My dad would be proud.
My dad burst into the room, a huge smile on his face, "My son, the pride of District 2 when he gets back!" He was excited. He clapped me on the back and pulled me into a hug, which I returned. "We'll have to get to packing when you're in the Games, son. I'd like to be settled in as soon as we can, upon your return."
"If he comes back..." my little sister said. I glanced at her, and immediately regretted it. She was similar to me, physically. We shared the same blond hair and the same blue eyes. But she didn't have the ferocity I did. Nor the malice or blood-lust that I had been trained for. She was 9 years old. I pulled her into a hug. I felt my shirt get wet, so I sat on the sofa, pulling her with me until she was in my lap. My dad took one of the armchairs, while my mother sat next to me, and rested her head on my shoulders and wrapped her arm around my shoulder and the other around my sister.
"You'll be careful, won't you, Cato?" My mother asked of me. I could feel her tears running down my arm sleeve.
"Of course, mom. You know I'll do anything to come home," I replied, wanting to ease her distress. She breathed heavily and my dad sighed and frowned. I shot him a warning look.
"The boy'll be fine. He's ready. At least have confidence in him. The both of you," my father spoke sternly , to my mother and sister. My mother shot him a look of disbelief while my sister further buried her head in my chest. Her little body rocked with sobs.
I intervened before my mother responded, "I don't want to spend this time arguing with you both. Please, save it for when I'm gone and she's in bed." My parents shut up.
We spent the rest of the hour talking, laughing and joking about minor things; school, friends, the weather at one point. All too soon it was time to say a final goodbye. My mother kissed my cheek and embraced me, which I returned. My father gave me some parting advice, which included "Don't do anything stupid, like getting your penis cut off. You'll need that for when you get back, all the girls that'll flock your way," I tried not to laugh at that comment. I was sure the drink was alcoholic.
"Cato... For your tribute token, can you take this? It was meant to be your birthday present, but I figured you'd like it now," my little sister said. It was a bracelet, the centre charm being a sword.
"Did you make this?" I asked her.
"Only the charm. I saved for the bracelet."
"I love it! Of course I'll take it with me." I gave her a hug and a kiss, and picking her up, prepared to hand her over to my mother.
"Don't die, Cato," she whispered, only for me to hear.
"I won't," I promised her before I handed her over to my mother. I got a fleeting glance from my family as the Peacekeepers led them out. I could see Clove giving her father a hug. Her brother's were already crying. Her mother was clinging to their hands as she tried not to break down. Similar to my mother. Clove's family quickly left, and she looked at their departing backs, sadly.
"Ready to go, then," Georgia asked us. We nodded, and boarded the train that would take us to the Capitol. Me and Clove avoided looking at each other. I wanted an ally in the arena, not a best friend, and Clove would be the perfect ally. But I don't think I could kill someone I've trained with for a few years.
We made ourselves comfortable and introduced ourselves to our mentors this year, Brutus and Enobaria; both were living legends in District 2. Brutus for his phenomenal strength and his 'hard-man' look, Enobaria for her façade of ripping out another tributes throat in her Games and having her teeth filed to sharp ends and having gold caps on them.
"So, we've got to decide how we're going to get one of you out of the arena..." began Brutus.
Clove's Death and Hunting Thresh.
"Cato!" I heard a voice scream. This wasn't part of the plan. The plan was to ambush Katniss and kill her. I was too far away from the Cornucopia to do anything. I'd tried to circle around so that if District 12 was giving Clove any trouble, I'd be able to ambush the girl. However, I'd gone too far South, and needed to head North to the Cornucopia. And I needed to get there quickly.
"CATO! CATO, HELP!"
I ran, fast as I could. I didn't stop for a breather. I needed to help my last ally.
The Cornucopia came within sight; it's magnificent golden horn standing out in the circular field. Heading to the West was Katniss, who had her bag from the feast – another way to induce a bloodbath – and making off East was Thresh, the District 11 boy. He made off with 2 bags. I noticed the table was empty and the District 2 bag was gone.
I saw a small body lying not too far away from the Cornucopia. I rushed to the side, slowing to a feeble walk as I recognised Clove. I knelt down beside her body and cleaned the blood up – a wound was on her head and it looked like Katniss had hit her a few times. I moved her hair out of her face, and picked up one of her hands and held it.
"Clove, don't die! Please don't, don't die... Please." Somewhere in my head, I was being told to leave her and go on the hunt. But I couldn't leave the young girl who'd supported me while she was dying. I stayed with her until the cannon went, signalling her death. I closed her eyes, out of respect.
I chose to go East – whatever was in that bag was what the tribute needed most. And Thresh had made off with it.
I took a deep breath, checked my swords were intact and moved a distance away. The hovercraft came for her body. The arm came down and picked her up, gently.
"Goodbye, Clove," I whispered. I turned away, and began hunting Thresh. He couldn't have gotten too far away. And I knew he was in his field of wheat.
I ran. I kept running. For an hour. He was obviously running too. I picked up the pace and about 5 minutes later I was rewarded and caught sight of him. He was taking a breather by a small stream and refilling a water bottle.
I pulled out my sword and crept up on him. Silently, I moved till I was right behind him. I plunged the sword into his chest, spraying myself with his blood. I moved the sword, slicing him open and exposing his upper chest. I could see his spine. Finally, I stabbed him in the head for good measure. I left him there. The birds might be hungry.
The cannon blasted and I used the stream to clean my sword and wash off the blood from my body. I lay down my larger sword and kept the smaller one at my side. I wasn't about to let my guard down when I had no idea where District 12 were.
I picked up the bag, labelled with a "2" on it. I found body armour in it. It was to deflect arrows. I smirked. "I'd like to see them kill me now," I mumbled under my breath. I undressed, put the armour on, then re-dressed. It was flesh coloured and a snug fit, which meant that I could stand a chance of fooling Katniss with it.
My head whipped round to a low rumbling, growling almost. Caught up with my curiosity, I didn't pick up my larger sword. I regretted that when I came across a pack of Mutts looking ready to devour me. I fled. Toward the Cornucopia. Without stopping.
End of memories.
The Mutts were still shredding my skin to pieces. They'd had enough of the limbs, so they were working on tearing away the body armour away in order to devour my body more readily. I couldn't say how long it had been, only that it felt like a long time to me. I wanted to die. I wanted to die. I failed. I wasn't going home. I wasn't going to see my younger sister again, or my mom, or my dad. Or my home. My breathing was becoming shallower and more laboured. The Mutt's continued gnawing at my flesh; tearing away the skin, muscles, and everything they could eat.
As time had passed, the pool of blood around me got larger and was filled with more parts that the Mutts couldn't properly digest. I was aware that most of my face had been eaten, as had my arms and legs. My screams of agony were now half-hearted moans of discomfort. This was beyond a show for the audience. This was pure torture. In all the years I've watched the Games, the most gruesome thing I'd seen happen was Finnick Odair hacking people to death with a trident. My curiosity was idle in it's thoughts; would my family be watching my death now, or would they have turned the T.V off already? I was sure that no recent Games were as horrific as this. Not the ending. There was a cannibal in one of the other, earlier Games. Titus, a tribute from District 6, went insane and started eating his victims. The Game-makers intervened and caused an earthquake or something of the like to kill him, so they could ensure their victor was not a lunatic. After that, cannibalism was pretty much the unspoken rule to the Games where anything goes; no one has turned into a cannibal since.
It seemed that light was entering the arena. It must be morning then. And I wasn't dead, and the Mutts were still hacking at my body. I was aware of drifting in and out of consciousness. I tried to repress the bad memories and focus on my family. However, my brain, along with my body, didn't appear to be with me today.
Tracker-jackers and Lover Boy.
The nest burst open and tracker-jackers swarmed our small camp-site. I shot off to the nearest water source – which happened to be about 50 metres away from us. The District 12 bitch must have dropped the nest on top of us. I couldn't properly see where I was going; I had a sting under my right eye. I pulled out the stinger – cursing while I did so – and jumped head-first into the pool. I heard 3 more people jump. There should have been 5. I resurfaced after I had no more breath in me. I came up to see Clove, Marvel and Lover Boy glancing at me. We got out slowly, and sat by the edge of the pool.
Lover Boy wandered off suspiciously, while me and the others tried to tend to each other's wounds when the cannons fired.
"Who do you think...?" Marvel asked. I knew he was concerned for Glimmer, his District partner.
"If Glimmer and Cressida aren't here, then they must be dead. There were only 2 cannons," Clove said, harshly. She was attempting to knock Marvel back into reality. The Games weren't a time to pity each other or grieve.
"I'm going back," I said shortly. I hoisted myself out of the pool and unsheathed my sword. I couldn't see properly and my hand was sore. Another sting I got. At least the stingers were all gone. I walked back slowly to the makeshift camp-site we had.
"What are you still doing here, Katniss? Get out of here!" So Lover Boy was helping her. And he was helping her escape right before me! I charged, just as Katniss left, and pounded into Lover Boy, knocking him to the floor. He struggled and pushed me off, ran, grabbed a sword and attempted to bury it in my chest. Rookie error. I deflected and brought my blade up, forcing him to move back. Jumping up, I slashed his leg, deeply, just as the hilt of his sword connected with my head, causing me to fall to the floor. Before I blacked out, a combination of a head wound and the poison from the tracker-jacker stings, I saw Lover Boy making a run for it as fast as he could with a bad leg.
Training Score.
We were all settled down to watch the training scores appear. I was stuck next to Georgia and Brutus, Clove on Brutus' other side, with Enobaria on Clove's other. The stylists were sitting on the end.
Caesar Flickerman told a few jokes and then introduced District 1 and their training scores; both tributes scored highly. As did me and Clove; Clove pulled a 9, while I pulled a 10. After a little celebration and a round of 'Congratulations', we paid more attention to the other Districts. Some people surprised us, like Thresh with a 10 and Rue with a 7. I couldn't think of anything that little girl could do to score a 7. Which was a good score, considering she was 12 and from a poorer District.
Lover Boy scored an 8. Probably used his strength or painted something girly.
11. 11! For a District 12 girl! What could she fucking do that I couldn't?
After the dumb-founded shock, I flew into a blind rage. I threw a vase across the room. I threw the remnants of our food at the wall – narrowly missing Brutus. I punched a table. I kicked my stylist. I smashed a painting. I ripped a door off it's hinges. I felt 2 pairs of hands drag me into my room and lock me in there. Must've been Brutus and Enobaria.
I decided to sleep off my rage. Climbing into bed, I hissed all number of insulting things; directed at the Game-makers, my family, my mentors, Clove, and District 12.
End of memories
I was still alive. Dawn was fully upon the arena now; the inside of the Cornucopia looking as golden as the outside. I was in pieces – literally – lying in my own blood and body fluids. I'd lost all my limbs to the Mutts, and said Mutts were still working on eating my body. My half-hearted moans were now whimpers of pain. Whimpers that somebody would come and end this torture.
My wish was fulfilled. I chanced a glance up and saw an arm lowering Katniss into the mouth of the Cornucopia. The Mutts weren't paying any attention to her. They were focused on me. The look on her face said how much of a mess I must be. It was also a look of pity. She looked around, attempting to find my face. I decided to make that job easier for her. I didn't care that she was my rival, my enemy. She was the one to offer me what I wanted – death. And I welcomed her arrival.
"Please."
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A/N: If you've read this, then thank you. I want to clear a few things up that some people may ask questions about:
Cressida is the name I gave to the District 4 girl; in the book, she is also in the Career pack.
Katniss isn't a main character in this because this is about Cato, and his experience of the arena. So, naturally, Clove would be the other lead.
The portrayal of Cato and Clove's relationship is meant to be District partners and allies, not friends, and certainly not lovers.
Yes, I did kill Thresh in this. I haven't seen that before.
Brutus and Enobaria are not meant to be mentioned much, their just present in acknowledgement that the District mentors are there.
It surprised me how much I enjoyed writing this. And I hope you all enjoy reading this. If I get a good response back, I may do other one-shots of tributes and victors in The Hunger Games book series.
Review, read, read again and enjoy! Much love!