Hello, all! This an entry I wrote for a contest...eight months ago, I think. It was on The Hunger Games Message Board on The Stacks. Anyway, I haven't really edited it, but I felt like posting it anyway. The contest was run by lorethevac, who is also on here, you should check out his stories! This was the prompt:
Here's the challange, write a one-shot fanfic. It must be from the point of view of one of the Catching Fire victors, and it must take place in the final moments of when they won their Games. You may not do Haymitch's, since it's already in the book. I'll permit Finnick's, because it isn't as detailed.
I picked Beetee. Also, I wasn't sure if Claudius Templesmith would have been anouncer back then, but just pretend he was. Reviews are much appreciated!
My breaths come shallow and trembling as my fingers finish connecting the circuitry. I know I must be hasty or death will soon come upon me. I recieved an electric generator from my sponsor only hours ago. It must have cost a fortune. My opponents sleep, oblivious to the trap that encircles them, but when they awake it will be too late. I push my glasses up on my nose, careful not to touch the already dirty lenses. I can't help but peer under them, in an attempt to see better. I can hardly see anything as it is in the light of dawn; smudged glasses won't help the situation. I only have to connect a few more wires, and then I can turn it on. It's hard to get my fingers to cooperate though. I've always had a nervous twitch, and today is no exception. I can't help but fidget as I connect the remaining wires. Focus! I urge myself. Time is running out, and if I don't finish this trap before morning comes, I'll be taking my last breath before I have time to wipe the sweat off my brow.
I'm getting exasperated now. Which wire should this one connect to? I'll have to guess. The last bolt screws on easily. Now I just have to turn it on. That's the most challenging part. Not making the machine, but simply pulling the lever. How can I kill these three people? They're Careers! I think. Snap out of it! They would do the same to you if they were able. You deserve to win more. Do it! I sigh, and with a shaky hand, I pull the lever, fashioned out of a broken branch. The voltage of the trap is stunning. The girl from District 1 has arisen now; the buzzing noise has ended her sleep. She's still, trying not to touch the wire that traps her. Suddenly, she glances up, catching my eye. Her lips are just forming my name when Aurelius, the boy from 4 rolls over in his sleep, knocking her over onto the girl from 4. They all hit the wire with a loud buzz, and the girl from 1 screams. It's horrible, watching their convulsing bodies, and hearing their cries of pain. I can't bring myself to look away; my eyes are glued to the scene before me. Finally they stop, their skin charred and bodies bloodied. The ground around them is covered with bits of blackened body, blood, and pieces of wire. Two cannons boom. I'm confused, until I see Aurelius give one final twitch before collapsing for the last time. His eyes have rolled into the back of his head, so that all I can see are the whites. The third and final cannon fires. I've done it. I am the victor of the 31st Hunger Games.
As I wait for the trumpets and Claudius Templesmith's voice there's a question I can't help but ask myself.
If I've won, why do I feel as if I've lost?