A/N This was originally just supposed to be a snapshot for my tumblr but I ended up expanding on the idea. It's different than most of the stuff I've written before so I'm not sure how it turned out. I might add more later. Read, Enjoy, Review(:
P.S If you want to read it, the original snapshot for this story is on my profile.
This is what he trained for his whole life. And at last here he was, a District 4 tribute. But not just any tribute, a volunteer. That meant more than just volunteering as one might volunteer to babysit or do a school art project. He had given his life away, quite literally handed it over to the Gamemakers so they might decide what to do with it.
Whether he lived or died was now just one of the many odds that made up the Hunger Games.
No, he thought with a laugh. No that was a lie. He was not just an odd. He was a Victor. He was the best in his District and he knew he could win. He knew he would win. He wouldn't have volunteered otherwise.
"Boy!" Pelagius, his mentor called.
I have a name, he wanted to say but he held back. It didn't matter anyway. Soon everyone would know his name.
"Boy, what's your strategy for winning?"
He hardened his gaze. "There is no strategy. I win."
"Just that simple?" Pelagius was mocking him.
"I ban together with the other Careers, eat out of the Cornucopia, kill off the other Tributes, then I watch my back and kill the Careers."
"And you think you can win just like that?"
"I know I can."
Pelagius pursed his lips into a tight line. "Well then boy, you better not make me regret betting on you."
The Training days loomed. He walked through the doors to the Training Center like he owned the place. The matts and weights and weapons filled his senses. It was like coming home for he had spent more time in the Training Center at home in District 4 than he had anywhere else. He strode over to the spears, weighing one expertly in his hand.
"Hey you, District 4." The speaker was the boy from District 1. He was shorter but muscled. "You any good with that thing?"
He didn't answer and instead picked a target on the opposite end of the room. He could feel the familiar coils of muscle in his arms spring back as the spear flew. It hit the bull's-eye.
District 1 whistled and held out a hand. "Jem Goldstein."
He took his hand silently and District 1, Jem, narrowed his eyes. "You got a name District 4."
"Skiff Walsh," he replied dropping his hand. "You got a partner?"
"Lacey's over there." Jem pointed to a tall girl looking dangerous with a double edged axe.
Skiff watched her as he walked to pull his spear out of the target. She was good but it was nothing he hadn't seem before. "Where's District 2?" he asked Jem who had followed him across the floor.
"Ajax and Breccia are over by the weights." Jem pointed. "What about your partner?"
"I don't have a partner."
"Your District partner."
"I don't keep track of Marina."
"You don't think she's any good?" Jem asked.
Skiff just pulled his spear out of the wood backboard with a half smile. "Not as good as me." Then he walked away. He didn't much feel like talking to Jem. Really what he wanted to do was train and he could not do that if he was 'chatting.'
It was midday before Skiff finally found time to watch District 2. Technically he had time to earlier but he wanted run through at least have of the weapons before assessing the other Tributes. No, he wanted to show off just a bit. It was potentially stupid letting them all see his skill like that, but they all already knew he was a Career. He might as well give them something to watch.
He was from District 4, born throwing spears and tridents, but he didn't want to stop the show there. That would be too predictable for his District. So he ran through several exercises with the knifes and whipped the trainer at the sword station. Picking up a whip pained him. Bullwhips were his one weakness, but he might as well cover all bases.
By the time he stopped for lunch, Skiff was covered in a fine layer of beaded sweat. He got his food and sat down away from the crowd. Moments later he was joined by Jem who introduced Lacey. Ajax and Breccia sat down without a word. They didn't feel the need for formalities. They all knew each other even if they'd never met. News traveled faster in the Training Center than a riptide.
The last to join the group was Marina. They were from the same District but that did not mean there was any love between them. They viewed each other as they should: just another obstacle to winning. She sat down with a "Hey," and a smile though making a pointed decision to ignore Skiff, as if he cared. Jem pursed his lips but did not say anything.
"So," Marina said. "We doing this?" She meant the Career Pack.
Ajax gave a curt laugh. "Would hardly like to break from tradition sweetheart." There was something about the way he talked, in the way he moved that was unsettling. It reminded Skiff of the wild horses he used to see on the beaches. All muscle and fire with no reason or sense.
Marina must sense it to because she does not look happy, or maybe she just scowled so much it had become permanently etched on her face.
The rest of lunch was in silence.
The alliance was an uneasy one. A dance on the very thinnest of ice. No one wanted to break from the group but they were smart enough not to trust each other. They would have to kill each other in the end.
After lunch Skiff felt the pull of the weapons and wanted to jump right back into the action but conditioning would help in long run and would give him a chance to watch the other tributes. He headed for the weights.
Jem, had this slight of hand dagger trick, which allowed him to get right in close to his target. The place on the maniquins back was stabbed with a purpose and Skiff was sure it was placed where it would do the most damage. Jem seemed nice but he would be the one to stab Skiff in the back, literally.
Lacey with her axe seemed unbeatable, but she hardly seemed as competent with anything else. If Skiff was a betting man, he would bet she would be the first Career to die.
Marina. He already knew her moves to well. They had trained together since infancy. It was an advantage as much as it was a detriment. He knew how she fought so he knew her weak spots, how she always lunged with her left foot, how she left her right side 3 inches about her hip bone unguarded. In short he knew how to beat her. But she knew the same about him. No matter. She could never win.
Which only left District 2.
He watched the girl, Breccia, first. She was playing with the god awful whips. Playing was the only real word for it. She flicked it around her in a arc with a skillful grace, but even from here Skiff could tell she was not focused. It takes only a few seconds for her to condense that energy however, and he saw her true talent. The whip becomes a deadly snake and she becomes it's charmer. Even he must admit she's good but it was not quite enough to worry him.
Then he turned to Ajax. Skiff's earlier horse metaphor immediately cames to mind. The horses run in herds wild on the beach, tied to the water as firmly as he was. They were from the same sea but it would mean certain death to mount one. They were too wild and crazed to be held, to be control, and their unpredictably was what made them dangerous. Ajax was the same way. Skiff saw the wild thirsty look in his eye when he picks up the saber. It would be enough to make any normal man tremble. But Skiff was not normal. He was a tribute and he resolutely watched as Ajax launched into action.
He is incredible, like nothing Skiff had ever seen. Ajax's swings were powerful and strong and fast. The trainer was disarmed and nearly skewered on the tip of the sword before Breccia shouted something to him and he pulled away. The wild gleam in his eye faded but only slightly.
Skiff steeled himself against a truth he didn't want to admit. He tossed his weight to the rack and strode towards Ajax. "District 2, you got moves."
Ajax straightened upright. Breccia gave him a meaningful stare which he cast off but not before Skiff picked it up.
"What was that about?"
Ajax ignored it. "You want something?"
Skiff picked up a free sword. "Go against me?"
"It's against the rules," Breccia cut in.
"He doesn't seem to mind," Skiff said noting the way Ajax clenched his fist around the saber. "I don't see the harm in a little harmless sparing. It will be good for us to know each other's strengths." Breccia raised an eyebrow. "For when we become allies," Skiff added though it was obviously an after thought. "Unless of course, your scared."
Ajax recognized a challenge when one was issued and started forward but Breccia was there. "Drop it guys. Go run it off."
Skiff dropped the sword. "Buzzkill."
"I'm saving your ass," she hissed.
"Whatever." Skiff turned to Ajax. "Run with me. Or is that against the rules too?"
Breccia frowned but did not say anything.
"You game?"
"Try to keep up," Ajax said as he brushed passed.
Running in the Training Center was nothing like running he was used to. Being from District 4 he was used to running on the sea rocks or on long stretches of beach. Running in the Training Center meant running on various planes of differing levels and angles. His body could handle the strain, agility from the rocks, stamina from the beach, but there was something wrong about running indoors.
It felt caged, unnatural.
They slide and jumped vaulted across the floor. Ajax was fast and tireless. Skiff refused to give up but found himself lagging. By the end of training. several hours later, he was drenched in sweat. Every muscle in his body ached.
"Nice game," Ajax said slapping him on the back with all the energy in the world. Skiff gritted his teeth and followed him out.
That truth he didn't want to admit before lingered in the back of his mind: Ajax was better than him.
That night Skiff dinned with Pelagius. Marina was with her mentor elsewhere in the Compound.
"How'd you first day of training go boy." It was not a real question.
"Fine," Skiff said scarfing down the rest of his plate.
"Nothing go wrong?"
"It's fine."
Pelagius tried again. "That boy from District 2. I heard he's good."
"Not as good as me."
"Not from what I heard."
So people knew. Skiff tried not to care but he felt the heat of rage building up inside him. "Is there a place I can get outside?" he asked abruptly. "This place is giving me a headache."
Pelagius frowned. "Try the roof."
Skiff pushed away from the table and nearly ran towards the stairs.
"Boy!" Pelagius's voice called. "I expect you back down here in an hour."
The cool clear crisp air was exactly what Skiff needed. He inhaled the free air, filling his lungs. He was not meant to be inside. He trained outside for a game of wilderness survival. Being inside too long was like slow death manifested.
He just needed to clear his head.
He could still beat Ajax if he was smart about it he just had to be smart. No one on one fighting. Maybe if he got Ajax killed early. Not to early of course but enough so it would catch him off guard...
No, he shook his head. He did not come up here to plan strategy. He came up here to think and be free.
He inhaled deeply. It was not the same as the air in District 4 that was certain. He missed the tang of the salt spray. This was mountain air, Capitol air, and for now it would have to do.
He heard footsteps behind him and he jumped to his feet, fists balled and tensed ready for any intruder. Ajax emerged from the shadow.
"Didn't expect to see you here 4."
"I could say the same 2." Skiff had not relax.
"So about that fight," Ajax said slowly. "You still game?"
Skiff didn't say anything.
"It's all friendly. Just so we know each others strength for when we become allies." Ajax smirked the words that Skiff recognized as his from earlier that day. "What? Scared you can't take me?"
Don't take the bait.
"No Breccia to save your ass this time?"
Skiff bit his lip to keep from responding.
"No one to show off for? Not so brave or tough as you pretend are you 4?"
And then Skiff decked him.
With a roar of rage Ajax struck back. Heavy blows were exchanged. It was all heat and rage and blows. It was a solid ten minutes before Skiff found himself pinned by Ajax. He could see the whites of the other boy's eyes and was once again reminded of a wild animal. It took Ajax several seconds to pull back. He left without a sound or a word leaving Skiff on the roof.
Both boys, would be sore and bruised tomorrow but it was obvious who had won.
Skiff jumped to his feet and headed back down to the Compound. He's body hurt him and he could see long dark bruises already forming across his knuckles and arms. However, his body would heal. It was his pride that took the serious hit in that fight. More than that he was no longer confident he could win. Not against Ajax. Before he held out some hope that he could find away around the other boy's brute strength, but now even that small sliver of hope was vanishing.
And then he felt it. For the first time he felt sick. Something inside him had grabbed at the pit of his stomach. Dread filled his throat and if he knew how to panic he might have felt that too.
He was going to die.
The harsh brutal abruptness of this one thought tore at him. It was a thought he had never thought before. He had not some much even contemplated that he might die and now it was all he knew. It left him hollow and uncertain. He felt unstable, skittish, paranoid, volatile in mood and temperament and above all rage. Pure blinding rage.
He heard himself shout a wordless roar followed by a stream of curses. His hand collided with the wall, with rage that shook the sheetrock. The force of impact tore the skin from his knuckles leaving them covered in blood. For a moment he worried he broke his hand.
"Boy," Pelagius called, harsh and unfeeling. Skiff was not sure when the older man arrived and he didn't care. "Calm down!"
It was an order.
Skiff spat at Pelagius's feet, cursing again.
"Calm down!" The reprimand came again, louder this time. Authority rippling through his voice. The last word came as a growl, "Boy."
And that was another thing. For the first time it bothered him how Pelagius called him 'boy.' Always 'boy,' never his real name as a reminder that he was nothing until he won. Until he became a Victor he was just another faceless Career; fodder for the Gamemakers fight. And because he couldn't win, all he would ever be was nothing. He was worthless as cattle ready for the slaughterhouse. How the Capitol probably sees me, he realized with a jolt.
It was the first time he ever thought about the Hunger Games in that manner and the more he thought about it the angrier he became. It was enough to make him risk his hand again. Blood splattered a hole the size of his fist.
Then he felt stronger hands, stronger hands than his, around him slamming him backward into the wall.
"I say calm down," Pelagius hissed in his ear.
Skiff tried to push his mentor off him but Pelagius was like iron. "What happened?"
Skiff thought back over the fight on the roof. I can't win, he thought hopelessly. "I'm dead." Skiff hadn't realized he spoke aloud or how dead his voice sounded.
Pelagius loosened his grip and seemed to understand. For the first time Skiff swore he saw a flicker of compassion in the older man's eyes, something he resent almost more than anything else. He didn't want pity.
"You can still win," Pelagius finally said in his customary gruff voice. Nothing to betray his change in heart.
"No I can't!" Skiff's voice was more of an angry cry. "Have you seen the boy from District 2. I can't win against him. He's the best."
"Then you just have to be better."
"I can't."
"You don't have a choice, boy."