Prologue:

The pitter patter of light, quick footsteps could be heard as the girl rushed up the stairs. Dark, raven and purple colored curls bounded after its owner as she zipped to the top of the building.

"Father! I got here as soon as I got your message. What's wron-" the girl stopped mid sentence as she headed into the room, "What are you doing here Mr. Lacer?"

The man looked up at her with a stony faced expression, "President Crate is dead. It was an attack coordinated by the mayors of districts 10 and 11."

"W-w-what do you mean, my father is dead? T-t-that can't be possible…" the girl trailed off as she took a seat on one of the golden chairs seated in the office. Her voice was laced with denial and anger.

The man didn't say a word to the girl as light tears slid down her cheeks, but rather turned to his assistant and said, "Radler, It seems the rich have become too comfortable in their positions in society. I think it's time we show them even they aren't safe from us. Do you not agree?"

The young assistant trembled, "But Mr. Lacer, sir. How are we to do that? We no longer have a President. We aren't prepared for anything. We cannot fight back."

"Myra, get up. Hand me that paper," the man growled, in rather unsympathetic voice. In response, the girl quickly wiped away the few tears left on her face and handed him the paper lying next to her.

"Here you go, Mr. Lacer," she managed out, silent tears sliding down her cheeks again.

"Thank you…" he muttered gravely as he scribbled a quick note on to the crisp paper. He grabbed a gold envelope sitting on the desk, and sealed the paper inside. Handing the letter to the girl he lowered his voice, "Myra, when are the next Hunger Games set?"

"Not for about a month…" she replied.

"And plans for the games?" he asked, as the girl clutched the letter tightly in her perfectly manicured hands.

"The volcano and blizzard idea...the one we shot down for the 174th games," she replied, "But what does any of this have to do with the games?"

He nodded, remembering the incident. Deciding last year's arena had turned into quite the debate, "This year's Head Gamemaker is Patrick Ablenson, correct?"

She nodded, "Yes, but please Mr. Lacer, what are you doing? What are you thinking?"

"Radler, I want Patrick Ablenson dead by tomorrow morning. Myra, congratulations, you are this year's Head Gamemaker," he replied.

"Head Gamemaker? Patrick killed? Mr. Lacer, please explain this to me," she pleaded.

"Myra Crate, since I know you well, I know you are already plotting revenge for your father…" he began, "...and I'm giving you the opportunity for that revenge. I want you using that anger productively, we need to control Panem, understand me?"

Her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as she tried to contemplate what was happening. Taking her silence as an understanding, he began walking out of the room, "Come Radler, we have a ex-Head Gamemaker to execute. And Myra, it's President Lacer to you."

Sitting down again, now by herself in her father's office, she opened the envelope. Scribbled on it was a messy note:

175th Hunger Games

Quarter Quell Twist: The children of Panem's mayors, high ranked officials, wealthy businessmen/women, and Peacekeepers will be reaped.

Arena: Be smart. Get rid of anything related the old arena. The 175th Games are your revenge.

A/N: Hi! Butterfly here :) So If you haven't already noticed, this is an SYOT for the 175th Games. These games will be a collab between david12341 and I (butterflygirly99). All info for submitting is on our profile and the due date for all entries is 2 weeks from now (January 9th, 2015). Please submit all entries through PM and be sure to leave a review on what you think of the prologue!