Devils and Dust by Bruce Springsteen
I got my finger on the trigger
But I don't know who to trust.
President Albinus Snow
I let the phone drop from my fingertips, my entire body shaking with the shock of what I have just said. Drop the bombs. Words that I knew were likely to be necessary, but yet had somehow thought I would be able to avoid. Drop the bombs.
And yet through the pain of what I have ordered my troops to do, I can feel this sense of great relief. The rebels have no means that any of my spies have been able to find that would allow them to come back from this. Their entire base was in District Thirteen, there is nothing left for them to do to continue this battle. The war is finally over, and we have won.
I rub the dry skin of my cheeks, allowing myself for a moment to drown in the regret of doing what I know I had no other choice but to do. All those people, my most trusted spies told me there were tens of thousands of them, all working for a cause. Brainwashed against the Capitol that has kept them safe and prosperous for so long. I want to, nay I need to, be able to damn them all for betraying their mother nation, but not all of them were to blame. The children that I saw video footage of, fighting for a war that they had no way of winning. Dying for a cause that they could not possibly understand. For a moment I mourn these children because they are not to blame for this. No, it was their parents and grandparents and leaders. The ones who deserve to die for the cause that would never be won.
I shut off my computer and begin to pack all of my files into the safe I keep under my desk, deciding that I am more than done for the day. It's nearly nine o'clock at night, maybe when I get back upstairs my daughter will still be awake. She just turned eight last week, but we were unable to celebrate properly like last year. My heart broke every time she asked about when her party would be because her friends were asking. She knows as little about everything that has been happening for the past ten months as I have been able to tell her to keep her happy. Esme always has been so interested in my job, but this is far too much for a little girl to handle.
What would she think of me if she knew the decision I made tonight? That perhaps tens of thousands of people were dead or dying, and I can't think about what percentage of that might have been around her age. I block the thought from my mind, knowing full well that I will be able to let all my emotions out later tonight. My wife has always been good at allowing me that stress relief. I couldn't ask for anyone better than my Vinia.
I am just about to reach out to unlock my office door when a quiet knock comes from the other side. I glance again at the clock, remembering a moment later that I had asked my assistant, Claudia, to stay later this evening to finish the statement that would be released tomorrow morning regarding the war situation.
When I open the door she looks surprised to see me away from my desk, I shake my head and she smiles as I invite her in. Claudia has been my right hand since my father passed down the presidency over twenty years ago, and she hasn't let up on me since, always making sure I am reminded of important meetings several times beforehand.
She shakes her head when I try to usher her in, instead closing the door behind her. Her tone is strict and low. "There is someone here to see you."
"At this hour?" I ask. Anyone that I can think of visiting me at this time of night is currently flying over District Thirteen along with the battle jets. Not only that, but normally when Claudia recognizes someone she pages me and lets me know they are here. It has been ages since she has actually came and gotten me. "Who is it?"
"I'm not sure, sir," she says quietly. "She would not tell me her name, only that she claims to have a solution to the problem."
When I give her another puzzled look she continues. "I've tried asking her to make an appointment, but she is insistent. I could call security if you want."
"No, let her come," I say though I am unsure why exactly. I have always tried to keep as much of an open door policy as I possibly could without putting myself in danger, and if the woman looked dangerous I am certain that Claudia would have already had her removed from the premises.
"I'll call in a security officer to search her first," Claudia says before leaving. I can still hear the click of her shoes from outside the door. I flick the lights back on and roll a chair to sit in front of my desk before taking my chair behind it. This entire thing is as enticing as it is nerve-wrecking.
It is several minutes before I hear the door open again. When it does I see a frail woman walk in, her body covered almost completely in dirtied fabrics and wraps. She walks with a hobble but her face does not show any sort of pain. She is not at all what I expected to walk into my office. Normally when one pays an important visit to the President of Panem, one dressed for the occasion. If anything I am more intrigued to hear her reason for coming than before.
"Good evening, ma'am," I acknowledge her and motion towards an empty chair. She takes the seat silently, a smile that almost appears too kind spread across her lips. "To what do I owe this late visit?"
She only looks at me for the longest time, but I force myself to hold her gaze no matter the discomfort I feel. Perhaps I should have called security after all. "Albinus Snow."
When she finally speaks her voice is low and raspy, as if it has not been properly exercised in months or even years. The fact that she addresses me by my full name is almost alarming, the only person to call me by my given name over the last few years has been my Vinia.
"That is I."
"I think it is clear why I am here," she says in a much warmer tone, reminding me somewhat of my own grandmother for a moment.
"I'm afraid it isn't quite so clear to me, ma'am," I say honestly, hoping that this admission is enough to urge her to tell me for herself.
"Ah of course," she smiles to herself. I consider that she may be just toying with me for a second but dismiss the thought. If she was looking to waste someone's time she would likely do so to someone else, for to do so to a president could have potentially lethal consequences. "I have the solution to your problem."
"Which one?" I laugh, attempting to bring some humour into the rather sombre mood of the room.
"The problem of the end of the war."
I am taken aback that she knows of the end of the war that quite literally only happened minutes ago. I guess it is possible that a news team has already heard the story and has had it aired on their network. That must be it. "I do not mean to be direct, but I do not see the end of a war as being a problem at all."
"Of course it is," she says, the smile still remaining as distinct as before on her face. "This will not be the end of the war without a solution. Without my solution, Albinus."
"Please explain," I swallow hard at her words. What could she possibly mean that the war is not yet over? I cannot do anything more to put an end to this than what I have already done. I keep my hand hovering above the emergency button on the inside of my desk. Something about this situation does not sit well with me and yet one small piece of me is not completely against hearing what this woman could possibly mean. "You are aware of the end of the war, you have already said that."
"Yes of course," she smiles. "I have heard of the end of this war, but without the right... treatment what will halt others from trying to achieve their goal once more after they have been allowed to recuperate? Simply beating them will never be enough, you of all people should be able to understand that."
My fingers drop from the button. She, of course, is correct. How did I not consider this probability? Of course the districts will seek revenge for the destruction of a large part of their population eventually. They will know what they are up against next time. It will be a more difficult war, with more bloodshed quite likely. How many cycles will it take before the Capitol is unable to control the districts and they finally get what they seek?
"I can see that my words have made an impression," the woman nods. "I had hoped you would see reason."
"I like to consider all possibilities brought forth by my people," I do my best to keep up a slight air of superiority even now, I guess it is simply ingrained into me to do so. Even as my mind if racing at a million miles an hour I will not allow myself to agree to things out of fear. "What do you suggest?"
"I had hoped you would ask that," she says and her smile widens. She moves the one side of her cloak and pulls a small, yellowed envelope out of it. She slides it across the table, where it leaves a faint streak of dirt on the white marble. Without a second thought I grab the envelope as soon as her fingers leave it. My eyes graze across the neat printing on the front of it.
"The Hunger Games?" I ask, the words seeming rather strange strung together into a title like this. "What does that mean?"
"You will understand when you read it," she says simply, hoisting herself out of the chair and starting to make her way to the door. "Do what you must with the information I have given you, but I ask that you please leave my name out of this."
"I don't know your name, ma'am," I say, my confusion growing as I struggle to make sense of any of this.
"Oh," she chuckles and as she walks out the door I can hear her still laughing quietly to herself, though what is so funny has passed over me completely. "Oh yes, that is true."
Song: Devils and Dust by Bruce Springsteen
A/N: You're probably all a tad bit confused since I just started a collaboration a couple months ago, but yes I am starting another SYOT. Since I have gotten pretty far ahead with all of my chapters for that, and I don't really want to stop writing at all right now, I figured that I may as well.
This prologue takes place before the establishment of the Hunger Games, just as the war has ended. This story will be very different from any of my other ones as it will be the very first Hunger Games.
I will let you all know right now that this story will be very different from how the Hunger Games are portrayed in the movie and book. The reason for this is because I picture the first few years being somewhat of a trial period, where they are still working out the format of the Hunger Games. Be warned, there will be a lot of things that are different, basically.
I hope as many of you as possible will consider submitting anyways! Here are some guidelines if you decide to do so.
- Since this is the first Hunger Games, there are no Careers.
- Tributes are ages 12-18, two per district as usual.
- Districts have just come out of war, so the industries are less important than the war in the case of jobs and such.
- Do NOT send a tribute that was at the bombing of Thirteen and survived. EVERYONE who was there died. Everyone.
- There is no tesserae, and every age has the same likelihood of being chosen (everyone only has one slip).
- Orphans are okay, since there was just a huge war and such, but please don't overdo it with the sad stories. I do want some kids that might have been very uninvolved in the war and/or kept both their parents.
DEADLINE: January 14th, 2014
If you have any questions about anything else feel free to message me. I love helping out with ideas and such, and would love to help get you on a good track.
Other than that,
Welcome to Devils and Dust!