Thanks for clicking this fic! Hope you like it. I decided to write it because I wanted to write about when Snow started selling Finnick. How he didn't completely lose his mind, I don't know. I thought it'd be slightly less torturous if he had someone to share the fate with – a fellow young victor - so I created my protagonist. No Finnick in chapter 1, but he does make a decent appearance in chapter 2 and will be a major character from chapter 3 and on.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except any original characters.
Chapter One
Sella, the District 3 Capitol escort, reaches into the bowl containing every single female name aged 12-18 who resides in the district.
I'm 16 so my name is in there four times. Four times more than I'd like, that's for sure, but I know that I'm fortunate that it's not in there more times, like the poor children who have to take out tesserae to feed their families – they have their names in there possibly dozens more than I do. Sella always says in her ridiculous Capitol accent, "May the odds be ever in your favor!" but it's definitely not in theirs.
However, I wait with baited breath. If only I can make it through it this year and the following two without being chosen, that'd be amazing!
Sella pulls a slip of paper out of the bowl and reads in a clear voice, "Aurie Cransin!"
What? I think. She did NOT just say my name. I must be hallucinating.
Only, I quickly realize I'm not, when a girl near me shoves me forward and the crowd in front of me parts so that I can make my way to the stage.
Sella calls out for any volunteers once I take my place to her left. I scoff. District 3 hasn't had a volunteer in ages; after all, who would volunteer to go off and be slaughtered in The Hunger Games? District 3 isn't one of those crazy career districts, where the young people actually train and being sent into the Games is an honor.
Of course, no one volunteers. I try to find my parents' faces in the crowd but am unsuccessful; Sella calls the male tribute's name. "Parick Dalum!"
I'm relieved that I don't know him; I'd hate to go against a friend or neighbor. Granted, I don't have useful skills, so it's not like I'd be able to kill him. However, I'm great with technology; it's what I've been studying in school practically since I was 5.
Parick steps onto the stage and I sigh in disbelief; he's a foot taller than me and looks as though he weighs a hundred pounds more than me as well. That's not the norm in District 3 where we're not exactly starved but most of us don't get to eat to the point of being overweight.
Though, in his case… I glance at him a bit longer and decide his weight is from muscles, not being overweight. That makes me even more terrified! He'll squash me like a bug.
We're quickly ushered into the District 3 Justice Building where my family and friends all give me hugs and kisses and wish me luck. My mom, always the emotional one, starts crying the second she sees me.
"Please, baby, you have to win!" she says frantically.
I'm her youngest; therefore the baby. And, now no matter how hopeless things seem, I have to try to win for her sake.
Wiress and Beetee, the District 3 mentors for the 67th Annual Hunger Games, sit down with Parick and me on the high speed train to the Capitol and ask us what our strengths are. I shrug, because all I can think of is that I'm really good at playing with electronic devices; my parents own the number one electronics store in District 3 and it's a known fact that many people in the Capitol own our products.
But, what good's being able to fiddle with electronics going to be when there are the deadly careers that weigh more than me and can throw knives with pinpoint accuracy seeing as they've been doing it since they were young?
Parick, as it turns out, does a lot of heavy lifting – that's where he gets his muscles from – he lifts loads of heavy electronics for a competing store. He's 18 and has just finished his schooling. I still had 2 years to go.
I HAVE two years to go, I correct myself. After all, I'm not dead yet.
We arrive in the Capitol the next day and though the glamour of the sleek buildings and fancy cars awes me for a brief moment, I catch glimpses of the weird Capitolites. Not only do they talk with strange accents, they spend all of their time trying to come up with new fashion and makeup crazes. Let me tell you, there's nothing quite as disturbing as someone who appears to be literally on fire because every inch of their body is covered in a fiery red color. It's not as though Sella is much better. She's got a blue wig on, her skin is tinted blue, her makeup is various shades of blue, and her clothes are a variety of blue and purple shades. She looks like someone stuck her in a freezer and didn't let her out until she was thoroughly frostbitten. To think that people willingly choose to look so ridiculous!
Parick and I are immediately rushed off to the Remake Center where they poke, prod, pluck and rip off every inch of body hair I have. I try not to scream, thinking of how embarrassed I would be if intimidating Parick overheard me, since he's in the room right next to me. He'd probably begin plotting my death as I lay there. However, it does get to be hard to not scream after a while, so I bite down on my arm, earning tuts and groans from the prep team, who I overhear gossiping over who's dating who and "Can you BELIEVE what happened on such and such show last night?" Ridiculously unimportant stuff, you know.
"Don't mark yourself up now, Aurie, dolly, we just got you looking pretty!" one of them cries in dismay.
I roll my eyes. Whatever they did to me, I guarantee it did not make me look any prettier. That's not to say that I am ugly; boys have been interested in me back in District 3 for a few years. I have pale skin (most of us do for all the time we spend inside working on tech devices), but amber colored eyes, naturally long eyelashes and I'm tall for a girl and naturally thin. I also have wavy dark blonde hair. It's not like I stand in the mirror preening (trust me, I never do this), but I can tell the difference between ugly and pretty. Also, I have no desire to be pretty in Capitol terms, but I suppose I better start doing my best to appease them; maybe some rich family will take interest in me and sponsor me when I'm starving to death in the arena…
After being made over, I meet my stylist who presents me with my outfit that I am to wear at tonight's Tribute's Parade. It has fiber optics sewn throughout it; it's actually an amazing outfit! So, when I come out in the chariot with Parick, the crowd cheers loudly for me. I hear my name being chanted over the music blaring over the loud speakers.
"Congratulations, Aurie, you were a smashing success!" Beetee smiles and gives my arm a squeeze as I step off from the chariot. Wiress, who seems like her head isn't quite always there, gives me a half smile and pats my back. Parick, whose outfit is more simplistic because his stature is apparently impressive enough, glares at me as we step into the elevator that will take us to the 3rd floor of the Tribute's Center.
"What?" I practically growl out at him.
"You stole the show!" he pouts like a little child. "How dare you!"
"How dare I!" I echo sarcastically and then roll my eyes.
"You won't steal the show once we're done with training and they see my score compared to yours."
"Tell it to someone who cares," I snap as we get off on our floor. I would be lucky enough to get a jealous, attention starved district partner. It's not to say that district partners are normally friends but they aren't usually enemies out to kill each other. After all, how could you go back to your district if you were a victor but killed your district partner? You might see that person's family every single day for the rest of your life. I couldn't live with that kind of guilt.
Training ends up being not as much of a disaster as I worried it would. It turns out that I have a natural ability at identifying edible plants and I have surprisingly good balance, making it hard for someone to catch me if we're running over unsteady or uneven ground.
The girl from District 7 named Kortnae apparently is looking for allies because she starts showing me how to throw an ax with proficiency. While I don't hit the target every time, I'm accurate over 50% of the time; I know it could be worse.
I work on knot tying, hoping I can master snaring prey, whether it's a tribute or an animal. District 3 specialized fiber optic wire makes a good snare. It's hard to make out when you set it just right. I might be able to use that to my advantage.
Day three of training is about figuring out what we want to present to the Gamemakers later that day. I am still unsure of what to present, but I know it better be good – they'll be basing my score off it and I don't want anything lower than a 7. However, I'm sure Parick is going to be throwing around something heavy, like maybe one of those giant clubs with spikes at the end. I cannot imagine how painful it would be to die by getting hit over and over with that.
Finally, thanks to Beetee's suggestions, I decide I'll throw the ax first as I've gotten better with my accuracy (not necessarily my strength however, if anyone is far enough away, it won't hit them) and then make a snare with the fiber optic wire and then get something to trip it. Hopefully, they'll notice how effective my snare is and how hard it is to see it. Beetee tells me that while I won't earn the best score unless I can hit the bulls-eye with my ax, it should still get me a decent number.
That night, they announce our scores. The careers (those kids who train from a young age on and then eagerly volunteer at 17 or 18, remember) from Districts 1 and 2 get unsurprisingly in the 9's and 10's. The other career district, 4, which hasn't had too many volunteers lately, surprisingly, has two middle of the road scores (6's) to go with their middle of the road ages (15, dead center in the middle of the rest of us aged 12 to 18).
Parick, in case you are wondering, ends up with a 10. He gives me a wolfish grin and looks to see what mine will be. It's an 8! Which isn't as good as the District 1 or 2 tributes but it ends up being better than everyone else except for Parick, of course, and Kortnae who also pulls an 8.
The interviews two days later go by in a blur. I do my best to appear interesting, likeable and flirty (it was my stylist's idea for that last one, as awkward as it seemed). I talk about home and my family, though I make sure to mention how much I love the Capitol, its food and its "generous hospitality". Yes, I managed to say that with a straight face. However, the people in the audience seemed to enjoy it, just judging by their laughter and cheers, so that was certainly a good thing…
Then, it was time for the actual Games. I was filled with dread as I awaited my fate. Sure, I wasn't planning on being anywhere near the Cornucopia at the beginning so I'd avoid being hacked into pieces during the bloodbath, but knowing how many lethal tributes were out there, I didn't expect to even make it past the halfway point.
But, somehow, thanks to a little luck, and my successful snares, I managed to make it to the final 12 tributes. Then, I got some amazing sponsor gifts. I got a handheld device that would electrocute anyone I was to press it up to. In addition, I got burn cream since I'd been burned badly by mutt ants that were literally on fire. It certainly brought a new meaning to the name fire ants. One night I'd been hiding out in a gap in a tree and the next minute my leg felt like I'd fallen on the hot stove at home.
With the electro cuter device in one hand, wire for snares in the other and burn cream in my backpack, I realized that I stood a chance in making it far in the Games.
The careers must've turned on each other, or Parick got to them, because the next night I saw both District 1 tributes' faces in the sky. I couldn't believe I'd outlasted half of the careers, as the District 4 girl was also dead.
Things weren't progressing fast enough for the Gamemakers (who really just want a good show or else the Capitolites will start complaining about the Games growing dull) so they invited us to a feast. We would be provided enough food to fill our bellies and there would be enough to take some with us. However, I knew Parick and the District 2 tributes, Moarey and Sharlton, would be there, looking to kill anyone else stupid enough to risk it.
Sure enough, that night, Sharlton, Parick, the boy from 5 and the girl from 8 were dead. Astonishingly enough, Kortnae was one of the 6 remaining, besides myself.
It was then that I realized I could actually go home! I could make it out of this thing alive! Parick and Sharlton must've taken each other out and taken a couple of others down with them.
Then I realized that I did not want to face off against Kortnae. She was so nice to have shown me how to use the ax. However, the alliance I thought we would end up having did not end taking place; I never did find out what caused her to change her mind. I knew then, at the late stage in the game that Kortnae would kill me in a heartbeat; she was too deadly accurate with that ax and I was sure she had found one by that point.
I thought I was going to die as I walked along, because suddenly I fell through a massive hole in the earth. No way could a tribute have dug something so large; this was the Gamemakers all the way. It didn't matter though, I was sure I'd broken my ankle or leg (or both) and now any tribute could kill me and I'd be helpless to stop them. I couldn't find any way out.
A tree branch broke off after I'd been in the hole for a day and I was able to use it to get out. However, my leg was severely injured and I didn't know how much longer I had left in me. How could I ever outrun a tribute?
Just as I thought that, the boy from District 8 dug something in my back. "Give me a reason and I'll stab you," he growled out.
I turned and saw someone who looked…feral. It was one of the scariest things I'd ever seen. How could someone have gone so mad? What had the Gamemakers done to him?
Before he could stab me, I stuck my electro cuter in his arm and he dropped dead on the spot.
That night, 3 pictures appeared in the sky: The boy from District 4, Kortnae (my heart did a weird flip flop, sad to see her gone but glad I didn't have to confront her), and the boy from 8 who'd I'd killed. That left 3 remaining tributes: me, Moarey from District 2 (who I was absolutely terrified of running into; if she killed me, she'd probably draw it out to make a good show for the Capitol) and the boy from 9.
Nothing happened that day, so the following day, a flash flood sprung up. It didn't last long but unfortunately, I wasn't a very good swimmer, so I found myself swallowing quite a bit of water. It didn't taste quite right - very metallic - as though it was laced with blood.
I grew very ill and threw up the following night. The boy from 9 appeared in the sky that night. Moarey would be hunting me and I still felt terrible. Whatever was I going to do?
Whatever was in that water didn't disappear from my system. It was as though it was toxic and was eating away at my insides. However would I outlast Moarey?
I stumbled around, growing weaker by the second, waiting for her to come and end my life. I couldn't believe I'd made it all this way only to die at the very end. Well, there is always that one person who almost is a victor but isn't. I couldn't believe it was going to be me!
Moarey found me and threw her knife at me. I dodged it by throwing my backpack up; it deflected and landed a few feet to my right. I crawled for it and tried to grasp it so I could stab at her if she came at me. I was so weak, however, that she kicked the knife out of my hand before I could get a good handle on it.
"Oh you precious District 3 rat," she cooed. "Did you really think that someone from your district could actually win? Oh, you did, didn't you? Tragic how no one has won from your district since what, the 46th Games? What a pathetic stat that is! Even District 12 had a victor more recently than you did! You have…"
Cutting her off, I grabbed my electro cuter and stabbed her. It had lost a lot of juice, however, so all it did was cause her to start twitching uncontrollably.
"Bitch!" she screamed and before I could prepare myself, she wildly threw the knife at me. It had enough force that when it hit my leg, it still cut open a gash at least 5 inches long.
"Ahhhhhhhh!" I screamed as I began to bleed steadily, which only increased my weakness.
She could barely move; I dragged myself, my horribly injured leg trailing behind, completely useless, closer to her and with the last ounce of strength, I stuck her with the electro cuter once more.
She grew still and a few minutes later, the cannon fired.
Somehow, someway, I did it! I was the victor of the 67th Hunger Games!
Now that you've made it to the end of the first chapter, it would mean a lot to me if you let me know what you thought of it. I sincerely hope you liked it but if there's something you didn't care for, please let me know (nicely) what I could do to improve it. And if you follow/favorite it, that's great too! If you did enjoy this, you can expect an update in a week, most likely.