Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. It all belongs to Suzanne Collins!
Heights
The 101st Hunger Games
Bleeding Out Part I
But innocence is gone
And what was right is wrong
Head Gamemaker Publius Nero
I stand before President Mortis, my flimsy knees wobbling shamefully from under me. All I can think about are Byris's words playing out over and over again in my head. "Remember what happened to Calandra . . ."
I know that Byris is only trying to be a good brother and warn me of the dangers of being Head Gamemaker, but really, I'd so much rather for him to be at least somewhat supportive of me. I don't need to be made any more nervous than I have to about this new position.
"Ah, yes." The president's voice is barely above a whisper, yet this perhaps induces far more chills running through my skin than a shout. He is raising an eyebrow at me and all I can think is that no wonder Calandra committed suicide after failing to make an arena worthy of Balthazar Mortis's taste. His punishment would no doubt be ten times worse than a simple, quick and easy, swipe of a knife or sword threw my throat.
I try not to think of all this, but the thoughts crop up nonetheless.
"Well. I'm waiting."
Balthazar is sitting on his armchair, his fingertips pressed together. The chair is swiveling back and forth. Back and forth. The swiveling is distracting me from the task at hand. Back and forth. Back and forth. Swivel, swivel, swivel.
I gulp and tear my eyes away from the wheels of Balthazar's chair.
I take a long, much-needed puff of my inhaler and let my lungs absorb the air for a moment before pushing my thick glasses up the bridge of my mouth and speaking.
"H-H-Hi P-President Mortis, sir," I choke. I can feel the beads of sweat gathering at the back of my neck and turning some of my dark brown curls to wet clumps .
"Hello," he replies. There is not a trace of warmth in his voice.
My breath becomes short and stocky and I take another puff of the inhaler. Why does my asthma have to be so bad today? I haven't had an attack this bad in years, and it has to come on the day that very well may determine whether I live or die.
Mother and Byris recommended - desperately pleaded is a better way to describe it - that I go to the hospital and have myself sorted out there, but I insisted that it was not that bad, which it's not. The proof for this is the fact that hear I am, standing proud and tall (well, standing at least) and ready to deliver my plans for the arena to the president of Panem.
"I was thinking, sir." I close my eyes for a second, then reopen them and set my plans down on his desk. His cold, steely gray eyes follow me all the while. "I was thinking-"
Balthazar cuts me off. "Nervous aren't you, Publius?"
I don't respond. I believe that this is a test. I don't know what the correct answer, the one that will allow me to pass the test, is. So I remain silent.
President Mortis sighs. "I am sure you are acutely aware of the fate of your predecessor, Publius. I assure you that as long as you do not make the mistakes that Miss Calandra made - as long as you do not make any mistakes in any of your endeavors - you shall remain just fine."
I nod. With a deep breath I plow on with the speech I prepared on my arena idea.
"I've been thinking, President Mortis . . . ever since the, er, tragic failure of the Quell last year . . ."
Balthazar bares his teeth, but I pretend not to notice. "I have decided that this year must more than make up with it."
"Agreed."
I clear my throat. "So, I have come up with an idea for the new arena." I let out a laugh despite the lack of humor as I pass the sheet with my idea over to the president. "I think this'll really take our Hunger Games to new heights."
I think I did alright with my presentation. I did not choke up as much as I thought, and I even included that bit about it being our Hunger Games. It implies that this is something I'm really passionate about. Passion is good in Balthazar's eyes, even though, from what I can tell from only this short meeting, it's something he greatly lacks.
"No pun intended," I add, about the "new heights" comment. A second later, I realize how stupid it must have sound and wince, but, thankfully, President Mortis did not seem to have heard.
Balthazar nods his approval - at the arena, not my cheesy comment on the pun of taking the Games to new heights and the arena being so heavily similar to that - and hands me back my files.
"You've done well so far, Publius," he allows. "I advise you to keep it up."
I nod furiously.
"You may go for now, Publius."
"Thank you sir." I give him a little bow as I exit - Byris told me that he would be pleased with me bowing slightly and feel honored.
"Oh, and Publius," Balthazar calls as an afterthought just before I reach the door of his velvety office.
"Y-Yes, sir?"
"We shall be meeting again tomorrow at the same time. Do not be late. And, for your own good, do not let this arena disappoint."
He leaves it at that and I give him another little bow to which one corner of his mouth curls up into a half smile and I duck out of the meeting.
Once outside, I run. I run home to Mother and Byris as fast as I possibly can. I only stop along the way to catch my breath and give myself a puff of air once I'm far enough away from the president that he cannot feasibly call me back and expect me to hear.
I sit down to rest for a moment a few blocks away from the house where Mother, Byris, and I live.
I never would have even imagined Balthazar choosing me to be Head Gamemaker. I did not even think I would ever get the position of a Gamemaker at all, but seven years ago, Mother fell ill and with her off work, Byris struggled to pay the bills alone. I was eighteen at the time, and the Gamemakers were looking for new recruits, so I figured I might apply. I was surprised to find that I was hired. Fortunately, Mother healed eventually, but she was never quite well enough to work again, so I kept my post as a Gamemaker.
My initial shock at finding out that I was made a Gamemaker, however, was nothing compared to the surprise I felt at being made Head Gamemaker upon Calandra's . . . early demise. I could not possibly understand why Balthazar would choose me over some of the others. I mean, if I'm going to be blunt, I'm pretty pathetic. I'm just a geeky twenty-eight-year-old who still lives with his mother and older brother. I am not bloodthirsty in the way that many of my colleagues (past colleagues, now they are under me) are and do not have a strong stomach; blood makes me queasy.
The main thing that I really bring to the table is my brains. I have always been good at figuring out what's going through a tribute's head at any given moment and instructing the others on what would make the audience find the Games interesting that year in terms of that tribute. I am not always right, but I applaud myself at that skill.
The only other thing I can do is create. If I do not think about what a deadly mutt or a trap in the arena is going to be doing to an innocent teenager, perhaps only twelve-years-old, then I can build them quite well.
But neither of these skills that I posses are what made Balthazar choose me for the next Head Gamemaker. Because when it comes down to it, as I am just realizing now, maybe he truly does want someone who cannot stand the sight of blood for this position. Maybe he wants someone more subdued and less bloodthirsty for this position once in a while.
Because maybe, the tributes are not always enough. Maybe, once in a while, the president likes to watch a Capitol man suffer as well.
Backstory to how the Games went on and Balthazar Mortis became the president . . .
Katniss Everdeen of District Twelve was a brave, fierce young woman devoted to one person above all: Her sister, Primrose. When Prim was reaped for the 74th Hunger Games, Katniss Volunteered for her and went into the arena, her district partner being Peeta Mellark, the baker's handsome son.
The two fell in love inside the arena, and tricked the Capitol into letting them both survive by pretending to kill themselves with poisonous nightlock berries. When the Gamemakers saw that they were both going to die and there would be no Victor, they allowed both tributes from Twelve to win, preferring two Victors to none.
The 75th Hunger Games rolled around the following year; a Quarter Quell. For this Quell, only the names of previous Victors would be inside the reaping bowl.
Being the only female Victor from District Twelve, Katniss was forced to enter the arena. Peeta was reaped alongside her, however, Haymitch Abernathy, their old mentor, Volunteered for him, having been drunk at the reaping and not aware of what he was doing.
Little did Katniss know, a rebellion was being planned in District Thirteen, which was said to have been destroyed. The people who had moved to Thirteen planned on taking most of the Victors out of the arena. They succeeded in this and a full-blown war began between the rebels and the Capitol.
The rebels seemed to have been winning, until Katniss Everdeen killed President Snow, and then it really sunk in into the Capitol side's minds that their leader was dead and they would be as well unless they stepped it up.
And they did just that.
The Capitolites and their supporters went ballistic, killing any person they saw who looked as though they might possibly have something to do with the rebellion.
Eventually, the rebels were forced to surrender, and the Capitolites were victorious. The Hunger Games would continue.
President Snow's daughter, Driss Snow, was made the new president of Panem and the Districts were put in their place.
However, Driss Snow was not interested in presidency. All she cared about was the glamour and glitz. She wanted to make it a requirement that from then on every arena for any future Games must contain glitter, the color pink, and many other things that were ridiculous in the eyes of most of the Gamemakers.
Driss's son-in-law, Balthazar Mortis was married to Driss's daughter Melal Mortis (nee Snow) for the pure reason of getting in line for the presidency. Despite the fact that Melal was much too young to be married - she would be of reaping were she from one of the districts - Driss forced her into agreement, because the woman simply could not pass up the opportunity for her daughter to marry a man as handsome and charming as Balthazar once was and she knew that she possibly may never find such a man later on and Balthazar would not be as good-looking once Melal was actually old enough for marriage. Balthazar saw that the Games would be going downhill severely as would Panem. (Not to mention the fact that he greatly desired the presidency for himself.) And so, only three weeks after she became president, he simply took a knife and slit her throat, without even batting an eyelash.
Melal was too far, far, young, and so Balthazar was named the next president. He soon realized that once Melal was old enough, she would take his place as president, being as she was the rightful heir and not he, and so, he murdered her in the exact same way that he did her mother. And, just like Driss, Melal did not see it coming and was too shocked (not to mention unskilled) to even make an effort to fight back.
No one ever found out that he was the one that killed his wife or her mother, and he was going to make sure that no one ever did.
Balthazar Mortis remained President of Panem, and was pleased to find out that most of the Capitol people were naive enough to not even speculate as to the fact that he might have something to do with the deaths of either Driss or Melal, let alone both.
For good measure, and to remind the Districts of all that he could do even to their strongest, he executed all tributes of the 75th Hunger Games, purely because they were tributes in the Games that he believes sparked the rebellion.
Needless to say, Peeta Mellark and Annie Cresta were heartbroken. They had both lost the loves of their lives to the Games, even after Katniss and Finnick already proved strong enough to survive one Hunger Games and sort of almost two. They did not survive Balthazar Mortis's execution, however.
But time went on and as did the Hunger Games.
It was decreed by the president that though the remaining Victors would not be killed along with their fellow Victors who were had been tributes in the 75th Hunger Games, and therefore, in Balthazar's eyes, had much to do with the rebellion, however, these remaining Victors would be permitted to mentor tributes from their districts only if there are less than two Victors of the Games from said district who won in the Mortis-era, post 75th Games.
Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons
A/N: So, this is going to be an SYOT! I'm super excited about getting all of your amazing tributes :D I am sure I'm going to love them all!
I hope you liked this prologue :D The backstory is a little bit off from canon, I know, but I had to make it fit so that the Games could be reinstated!
I will not be revealing the arena until the Games actually start, so you must stay tuned for that! Your only clue is that it falls into the theme of "Heights" which is why that's the title of the story.
The form can be found on my profile :) Be sure to fill it out completely and send it in to me by PM only! Tributes sent in via review will not be accepted. Sorry to anyone who does not have an account, but I really do not want this story to be deleted.
Form and tribute list are on my profile :P
Please leave me a review and let me know what you think of my writing so far! :D
Oh, and, an important note!: This SYOT will be done in the format of the brilliant JABBERJAYHEART! Anyone who has never checked out one of his stories should really do that, because they are all amazing and he has been so nice as to allow me to use his format for getting through the pre-Games stuff so that it does not drag on forever :D
xxx,
Emmy