Chapter I:

Blood For Blood

The bus rumbles to a stop and my eyes flutter open. My friend, Myranna, sits beside me, her electric blue hair the same color as her eyes and makeup. When we rise to our feet, we peer over the many rows of seats at the driver at the head. He stands in the aisle, his wide-eyed expression mirrored by the many teenagers.

"It is nothing, I will have the bus fixed in just a moment," he says, and hops down the stairs of the bus.

"This trip is pointless," Myranna says. "That damned Katniss Everdeen is just power hungry. Who is she to become the new President of the Capitol? This is what happens when power is fed to a hungry peasant."

I swallow the bile that builds in my throat. I can't stand the sound of the name. Even this morning, when I passed the many banners of her hanging from the buildings, I have to struggle to hold back the tears. When I hear that all Capitol children are to visit her—our new President, I all but burst into flames.

"No one will replace your grandfather, Demi."

I keep my words to a minimal because I can't control the quiver in my throat. "I know."

Myranna grabs some of my blonde hair and holds it up to me. "You look like you belong in the districts. You're the only girl in the Capitol who wears her hair like this."

I look around at the other girls. They all wear their hair in trendy updos, dyed unnatural colors and laced with adornments like feathers, pearls, and diamonds. Myranna is the simplest Capitol girls get, with her straight blue hair and eye make-up. My hair simply snakes down to my shoulders and down my back. "I don't care for trends," I say.

"Well, you look strange. It's difficult being seen with you sometimes. Think about how hard it is being your friend. People are starting to not buy into my lie that you have a mental illness."

A pound against our bus scares us to a jump. Everyone gasps and jump to their feet. Myranna and I exchange a glare. "What was that?" she asks. I shrug.

"The incompetent bus driver screwed something up, no doubt," Plutarch's nephew, Shane Heavensbee, says, flexing his muscles. "I'll go check it out. Hopefully he gets fired after this."

Something purrs beside me and I look at Myranna who bites her lip as she stares ahead, watching Shane exit the bus. I cut my eyes on her and she grins. "What? He's hot."

I slide back down to my seat and allow the music to blast in my ears. I close my eyes and all that exists is the music. All that matters is the music.

I don't know how much time has passed when Myranna shoved my shoulder. When I glare over at her, she's to her feet, her eyes wide. I look around and see children rushing from the bus. I rip the plugs from my ears and move aside, allowing Myranna to slip into the aisle before I do.

"What is going on?" I ask anyone that will answer.

"They say Shane found something," Effie Trinket's much younger sister says, tossing aside her silver braid that was laced with sparkling diamonds.

We push and push, and eventually the lot of us stampede from the bus and crowd around Shane at the side of the road. I see that we are in the middle of nowhere. Where has the bus driver taken us? There is no street in the Capitol that isn't framed by buildings.

"Look!" Shane says, holding out a bloody sky-blue jacket. His entire body shakes and tears make his green eyes shine. I swallow a laugh. Such a large, "tough" boy; such a waste of mass.

"Okay, what the hell is that?" Myranna says, pushing through the swarm of children to Shane.

"It belongs to the bus driver," he says. "I found this up the road. But he's nowhere around."

Somewhere around me, there are small children crying, but there are so many of us that I can't tell which.

"So what do we do?" Ryte Flickerman says. It takes an effort not to stare at the purple hair that falls down to his mid-back. He wears more makeup than Myranna.

"I say we walk," I blurt.

Everyone glares at me and I shrug. "Would you rather wait here and rot, or try to find shelter before nightfall?" I point at the rose-colored sky.

"She's right," Shane says. His voice deepens and I can tell he's forcing it. When he holds up his arm and kisses his bicep, I roll my eyes. "Everyone just follow me."

We trek for what feels like hours and I fall behind the mass. Their presence at this point does little more than annoy me. Children are crying. Teenagers are complaining. Most the girls are in orbit around Shane who pretends to be fearless but, by the way his steps are heavy and labored, is cracking.

A tug of my hair brings me to the ground. I kick at the air as I slide across the pavement, the gravel tearing into my elbows. The children ahead of me look alarmed, but then take off in sprints. Men cloaked in white zip past me and apprehend them. Twelve year olds are thrown to the ground. Edea Trinket screams as the diamonds are ripped from her hair. Shane and Myranna have a lead. Shane totes Myranna by her hand into the distance. When two shots rip through my eardrums, they both fall.

The men in white start bringing the children my way and I feel myself being pulled up a ramp. I am thrown into a seat and punched in the chest when I try to run. Shallow breaths escape me as straps are thrown across me and fastened into metal buckles. As I black out, more children are being brought up the ramp. When we are all securely in our seats, the ramp becomes a closing door which seals us all in darkness. I realize we are in a hovercraft right as I black out.

# # #

When I awake, I see I am strapped to a chair. A long table stretches out in front of me and I see the children from the bus in chairs on either side. Edea Trinket's hair is a silver spool all around her head. Ryte Flickerman's eye is bloody and swollen. Claudine Templesmith's nose pours blood onto her shirt. Shane and Myranna are barely conscious and blood stains their shirts. All other children are slightly bruised and are crying, sniffling, the mucus from their noses pouring into their necks.

Men wearing white and red suits flood the room holding silver platters topped with bloody dead animals. As they sit the roadkill on the table before us, I recognize one of the men. I remember meeting him when my grandfather took me to meet the Game Makers.

"Lennox, what is happening?" I ask.

He looks at me, his eyes wide, and cries as he sits a rabbit on the table before me. Its stomach is ripped open and its entrails pour out around it. I gag and cry out and he scurries away.

Heavy footsteps pound against the wood floors and before I can fully look at the woman entering the room, my face is shoved into the rabbit's entrails. Something soft and wet slides across my tongue. The liquid is thick and it tastes metallic.

My head is pulled out of the dead creature and I see the children surrounding the long table crying, blood smeared on their faces, pink remnants falling from their mouths.

"Nothing better than fresh game," a voice calls.

The voice tugs at my memory. There is something about it that makes me feel like I've heard it before. When I think I remember, a foul liquid fills my mouth and spews out onto the table.

I look up and the woman—or, rather, the girl—is making her way to me at the end of the table. Her brown hair left her head in a long braid. I knew her. Suddenly, it feels like something has pieced my heart. I knew this place. I knew this table. This was the house of the man she murdered.

"Don't like it? It's what we eat in the Districts," she says, then smiles at me. "You probably know who I am."

I nod, though I'd rather not speak to her. She is below me. She is a District girl. "Katniss Everdeen," I say.

"You peasant," Myranna shrieks. Katniss nods at a Peacekeeper standing a few inches away and he strikes Myranna with the back of his hand.

"Stop!" I say, then look at Katniss. "What do you want? I have money."

She smiles. "Of course you have money. You're Demetria Snow, the late President's granddaughter. I don't want your money."

"Anything!" I cry. "I can give you anything! I can do anything!"

"Oh, I know. But it's not able what you can do. It's about what you will do. You, Shane Heavensbee, the children in this room, and your dear friend, Seneca Crane's daughter, Myranna. There are twelve you here. Once we find another twelve of you Capitol children, we will commence."

I look around. "There are thirteen of us here."

A smile stretches across Katniss's face. She nods at the Peacekeeper and he reaches into his pocket and splatters Myranna's brains over the table. Children scream and cry and Katniss smiles.

"Now there are twelve. Welcome to the 76th annual Hunger Games."