Heya guys! This is my second story. It's also Hunger Games, but it isn't set in modern day, like my other story, Ice Queen.

Hope you enjoy the story! It's the story of a girl, Sovia, from District two, in the 100th Hunger Games (Quarter Quell)

REVIEWWWWW :)

It's already five thirty in the morning - if I don't get up within ten minutes, I'll be late. The training centre won't accept excuses, and I'll be punished. Slowness gets you nothing but pain here.

...

I hurry into the doors. I'm actually early but I always take at least 20 minutes to warm up with my knives before we have to gather in the middle of our high-tech center.

I send knife after knife into various dummies, some cruelly curved, others dead straight with even sharper points. I know as my adored weapons leave my hands that they will find their intended target. They always do. I'm throwing even better than usual today, the knives spinning harder and faster and stabbing the bullseye smack in its center. This is getting boring. I sprint my way towards the electrical dummy, dodging as it showers me with sharp things. This is the training center, even in here you can end up with a serious injury. Those who do are always deemed unfit for the Hunger Games, and have to live in the shame of dishonouring their family for the rest of their life.

I dodge a final knife, and before the machine knows what's hit it, it has been repeatedly stabbed, every cut made in places that would guarantee an enemy bleeding to death. The stuffing pours out of the holes as the machine shuts down to repair itself. This is the sign that if the dummy were your enemy it would be dead. I'm quite pleased with myself as I turn to my trainers, who have been watching me for a while. This time, the whole gym is watching - you could have heard a pin drop.

My trainer, the one reserved for elite students, beckons me to him. I keep my face as neutral as possible, but am soaring with hope on the inside. They might be about to choose me to volunteer for the Games. I'm only fifteen, but I'm tall for my age and easily beat anyone who challenges me. The boys have turned out worse than usual for a few years, and I'm pretty much the Academy's best student.

'Nice shots, Sovia.' he praises. 'I think you're ready to volunteer.'

On the inside I'm screaming with joy, but I can't let my emotions show - here emotions are seen as weakness, and he might change his mind.

'Thank you, sir.' I reply cautiously. He dismisses me and I begin to return to my knives.

'Wait, Sovia? I want you to partner with Marcus from now on.'

What? No! He's a good fighter but a bit of an idiot and he always manages to irritate me - never a good idea unless you want scars to show for it. And I don't need a partner. I'm by far the best fighter in this gym.

As Marcus approaches I give him my best death-stare. Cato, who is to be my new trainer now that I'm a volunteer, tells us to fight. He's a victor himself, and he wants to make sure that there is a District 2 victor every year.

'Choose your weapons.' he announces as we enter the large fighting ring. I immediately head for the deadliest knives I can see and put most in my belt. Once the fight has started, the weapons table goes and you have to go with what you have. Marcus has gone for his trademark short sword, but I have beaten people with those many times before - the secret is that they always tend to make giant, clumsy swings with them, which are easy to avoid with practice. A cut hurts, but stabs are deadly, even though most don't know this. I was taught this secret by my trainers - It was passed along through thousands of generations, starting of with some people called 'Romans'.

The table vanishes, and the starting horn blares in our ears. Before Marcus even steps forward I launch a knife into his upper arm, since I want to incapacitate him rather than kill him. He screams and the murderous rage which I know so well fills his small, piggish eyes.

He swings at me, as predicted, and I duck. Furious that he hasn't harmed me yet and that blood is gushing from his arm, he makes another attack, which I dodge again. This is boring. The dummies I attacked earlier were more of a challenge, and that's saying something. Since I figure I may as well get this over with, I avoid a final swing and launch a knife at his thigh. Unsurprisingly, it buries into his muscle. As he yanks it out, I pounce on him faster than he can react and have my best knife at his throat within half a second.

As the fight ends, I kick his injured leg in contempt as he groans. I'd have expected a bit better from one of the best male fighters. Although no-one can defeat me, his fighting level is still disappointing. It would be okay, good even, against anyone else, but he posed no threat to me at all. I enjoy challenges - I still win every time, but it's more fun seeing the more confident students go down as they realise they aren't as strong as me. It's rare that anyone asks to fight me again. In fact, it has only happened once, and the boy ended up in hospital with a knife sticking out of his abdomen. It would have hurt, but I deliberately aimed for the safe gap in between his organs, so he survived. I would have been punished for killing a student.

I can't wait to get to the Games, so I can finally kill for real. The 100th Games are going to be even more exciting.

This gives me an excuse for even more gore. If people are weak, they deserve to suffer.

And there we go! first chapter done. I really hope you enjoyed it! I'll try to update soon, but I have two stories going on at the same time so it may take a while.

Love youuuuuuuu

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