Author's Note: Hi it's Kath! This is my first SYOT attempt! Here's the first chapter, I hope you guys like it! If you favorite or follow, you're my friend. If you submit a tribute or review, you're my best friend. Like seriously, if you do any of those things I will love you forever. The tribute submission form and guidelines is on my profile, as well as the tribute statistics. I hope to get the spots filled quickly so we can get this thing started! Please tell me what you think so far! But enough on my part…may the odds be ever in your favor!


Chapter One: An Offering

When there was a knock on her door, Verena Blackwell paused as if she did not expect it.

She walked past her kitchen where tea was already brewing on the stove and through her pristine living room that was polished almost as if she had been already expecting guests.

She counted to eleven, a reasonable time for someone to reach the door when unexpected visitors arrived, before looking through the curtains as if she didn't already know exactly whose beady brown eyes would be peering back at her.

Verena slowly opened the door. "Hello, Assistant Gamemaker Micah, to what do I owe this surprise?" The last word, a lie, tasted sweet in her mouth. She gave a wry smile.

"Hello, President Snow sent me, we have a few things to discuss," he didn't elaborate. "May I come in?"

"Of course," Verena said, stepping aside so the man could enter. "This way."

Verena escorted Micah to the living room where she took a seat in her favorite chair complete with its intricate carvings. She had always been a fan of detail and extravagance. Verena motioned for her guest to sit opposite of her on the velvet chaise lounge. The room was tinted orange by shards of the beginning sunrise streaming in through the curtains. It was quiet, eerily quiet, as most of the Capitol still slept this early in the morning.

"My apologies for arriving here at such a untimely hour," the Assistant Gamemaker said without remorse, speaking formalities.

"It is early Assistant Gamemaker," Verena tilted her head towards the large mahogany grandfather clock, a very prized family heirloom, in the corner of the room. Its large face bore the time; not yet even six o'clock. "What could be so important?" As if she didn't know the answer, but again, formalities.

"Well, I'm going to be straightforward as possible with this. As you know this year's Hunger Games ended last night, and the results were a bit lackluster in the eyes of the Capitol, and more importantly President Snow. He was displeased with Head Gamemaker Wylan's performance, along with others employees. Needless to say President Snow is now searching for new Gamemakers."

Verena bit back a smile. The games this year were mind-numbingly dull, and the Capitol was not entertained. Which reflected badly on Snow, and Snow of all people was not going to put up with that. What she was hearing simply meant that Snow eliminated all the people that were driving his reputation and the thrill of the Hunger Games down.

And now they were looking for new Gamemakers, but more importantly the Head Gamemaker slot was to be filled.

"Is that so," was all Verena said, as if she was not already aware of every word the Assistant Gamemaker had spoken to her.

"Ms. Blackwell, Snow has seen your blueprints, your plans, all the new ideas and improvements you have in store for the Games. He is impressed, especially with your young age. He admires your brutality and creativity."

"Oh," Verena managed, concealing her genuine surprise. She knew Snow had seen her blueprints, she knew he had liked them, but not as much as this man was telling her right now. She hadn't expected those words to come out of his mouth.

"I'm here to offer you a job, on behalf of President Coriolanus Snow. Would you accept the role of Head Gamemaker, Ms. Blackwell?" The Assistant Gamemaker shifted in his chair nervously.

"Yes," Verena breathed. "I accept."

Head Gamemaker. The two words clouded her mind. For the first time in a while she was utterly suprised. This was not what she was expecting at all, as the Assistant Gamemaker usually got promoted if the Head Gamemaker was not living up to expectations, but this… she didn't exactly know how highly in regards Snow held her.

Assistant Gamemaker Micah breathed a sigh of relief.

"Why not you? Why were you not promoted?" Verena asked out of true curiosity.

"I've always been a better assistant than anything else." Which translated to: he wasn't worthy of the job.

She nodded. "Tea?" Verena asked then stood and walked into the kitchen before Micah could even answer. The two rooms were connected, and the pair could still see each other as Verena prepared both teacups and the kettle, and brought it all back to the living room on a silver platter.

"He thinks you can destroy the rebel forces that have been rising," Assistant Gamemaker Micah whispered. "Snow believes with your barbaric ideas, you can make the games so bloody, so violent, it will remind the districts who is and always will be in control."

Verena really smiled then. "I shall do just that," She raised her cup, and then took a drink. Her guest did the same.

For the second time this morning she counted silently to eleven and on the count of what would have been twelve the Assistant Gamemaker began sputtering and coughing right there across from her.

"W-what," Micah managed, and then realized he was dying. "I don't understand—you've already won," he dove into another coughing fit.

"You're right, I would have been Head Gamemaker by the end of the day either way. I honestly thought you would have been promoted and I'd have to kill you just for the job. But now that the job is already mine…that's even better."

He grabbed at his throat.

Verena continued to speak. "But, if you can't notice when I slip a drop of poison into your cup, you definitely don't have what it takes to be on my team of Gamemakers, now do you? I'm sure Snow will understand. We are a lot alike, you know, him and I."

Verena played with a strand of her curly black hair as she thought of her new position, her new job. Something she had always wanted was now finally hers. She always got what she wanted, one way or another. She would not only be the youngest Gamemaker Panem had ever known at only 21 years old, but she would also be the best.

Her new and brutal ideas would change the Hunger Games forever, she was sure of it.

Next year the games would be bigger and bloodier, so horrible and devastating the districts wouldn't dare act out again for a long, long time afterwards, in fear of what she would do to their children if they did. She would burn these rebels right to the ground.

She almost felt bad for the tributes that would have to compete under her regime.

Almost.

Across from her the Assistant Gamemaker coughed up blood before slumping over motionless on the chaise, his coughing spell finally over.

Verena sighed. "This is why I had you sit on the chaise, the blood stains will almost look invisible on that velvet. Now if you excuse me, I think it's time I had a chat with President Snow."