Because I love The Hunger Games and Cause of Death, I'd like to dedicate this AU story to all my reviewers.
For those of you who've never read The Hunger Games, I feel bad for you. Jokes, but it's got to be the best series I've ever read. I love it so much I'm connecting it with Cause of Death to make a oneshot. *gasp*
Anyway, for my fellow Hunger Games lovers, this is told in Natara's point of view, who is from District 12 and is taking the role of Katniss Everdeen. Mal's assuming the role of Peeta, and Captain Yeong is their mentor. Genevieve Collins takes the place of Cesar Flickerman.
The story starts off when Natara lands on her plate and the sixty-seconds timer begins before she can step off of it. I'm just going to introduce the basic outline of a plot and most of the tributes in the Games…which, of course, will be from Cause of Death! (even though I'm making the characters to be between the ages of 12 and 18 so they can properly be in the Games).
Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this. Just a special oneshot to entertain you guys until I update You're My Paradise!
Drop me a review please? Even if you've never read The Hunger Games…just tell me if my writing sucks or not.
"Ladies and gentlemen," a voice booms over me. "Let the seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"
I quickly look over at Mal to see that he's already on his plate. He, like me, scans the arena and takes in the entire scenery—an island. An island? He doesn't know how to swim. Maybe I'll help him. Maybe we can be allies. Maybe…
I quit thinking about Mal—I need to form a strategy. There's a narrow strip of sand a few feet from my plate, and then after a couple yards, it becomes sea water. Sea water. I take a deep breath and look quickly at the other tributes and their expressions. I try to find any form of weakness.
District 1 is boldfaced and serious, just as they always are in the Hunger Games. Its tributes, Wendy Wilcox and Carlito Flores, show no mercy. Wendy's light blonde hair is tied back into a ponytail and she's chewing her lip. Not because she's nervous, oh no, it's because she's itching to run off her plate and grab her weapons and supplies. I scan her one more time. She's so pretty; yet she seems like a killer instinct. Carlito has jet-black hair that lingers at his shoulders and an icy, piercing glare.
I swallow hard and quit paying attention to other tributes. Scanning the arena once more, I barely make out the island after several yards of water. I'll have to swim fast if I want to get any good weapons. I'll also need to be careful that no one tries to drown me—I doubt that would happen, though, because the other tributes would want to get to the weapons and either run for their lives or fight in the bloodbath at the Cornucopia.
The gong rings. I can hear Yeong's voice shooting through my head, as well as the booming sound of the gong. Grab what you can get and get yourself out of there. Don't fight in the bloodbath. Stay away from the Careers. Find water. Water! I swiftly dive into the crashing waves of the ocean and propel myself upward to obtain a mouthful of air. The stroke that Courtnie taught me was a good one. I race forward, using my long legs to kick until they're sore. Then I make it to the island along with the first of the Careers.
Blaise Corso and Oscar Santos, the tributes from District 2, arrive onto the island at the same time I do. They quickly begin picking up what they can find, and I take part in their tactic. Soon the rest of the Careers will be here and I'll need to leave.
My eyes lay upon a small knapsack full of dried fruit, bandages, and knives. I run for it—it's only a few yards away—but Blaise sees it at the same time I do, and it's a race to the death. Literally. I spot Blaise from the corner of my eye, her sleek, golden-blonde hair whipping in the island wind. She reaches for the bag, but I shove her aside and fling it over my shoulders. Angered, Blaise reaches out and rakes her nails across my wrist as I run off.
I can feel hot blood dripping down my palm, but I dart further into the island, picking up a small plastic cup from the sand. I could use this to drink water in once I find my water source. I can barely make out the tributes from District 4 as I run off and spot them with the corner of my eye. Ken is tall and muscular—perfect for the Career group. Tasha is slim and quick, which makes another good addition for them. They're probably grabbing as many weapons as they can find so they can fight the bloodbath and join Oscar, Blaise, Wendy, and Carlito.
I sprint off further and further, pushing past chunks and clumps of palm trees. It's hot outside, and I can't seem to find any water yet. The only things I see are trees and the faint silhouette of a person running in the same direction I am.
At first I think that it's Mal, but my heart drops when the figure comes closer and by the slim figure and the short, semi-spiky hair, I notice it's Amy from District 7. Where's Kai, the other tribute from her district? She seemed so attracted to him at the arena. It's as if the two knew each other their whole lives. Maybe they did.
I notice that Amy's running off as fast as she can. Perhaps her mentor told her the same thing mine did—to get as far as you can from the other tributes. I decide to dart a bit faster. A small smile finds its way on my lips as I feel the comfort from the boots I'm wearing—they're perfect for running.
I come to a halt in front of a palm tree bearing coconuts after sprinting away for what seems like hours, although I know it can't have been more than an hour that I was running; only pausing for a few breaks and breaths of fresh air. My tongue is so dry that it aches, and every bit of me wants to gulp the coconut water until there's no more. I fling my pack over my shoulder and climb the tree, careful not to be bitten by any wild bugs.
I wrap my fingers around a plump coconut and climb back down. I've only tried coconut water once—when Father brought some for me to try on my birthday; I'd always wanted to taste it. The water didn't taste good at all, but I figured that a bad taste would be better than drinking nothing at all.
My stomach growls viciously; I haven't had a bite to eat since my slice of toast this morning. I think of the tributes from District 11: Barbara Kensington and Brian Resler. Since their industry is agriculture, I can just imagine that they have a lot to eat. For a moment, I feel a twinge of jealousy, but then my mind drifts to another thought. Why are Barbara and Brian so thin? They look like they weigh less than anyone else in the Games.
A sudden noise snaps me out of my thoughts. Instinctively, I grab one of the knives from my pack and turn around to see Shawn Mallory from District 5 charging at the tree I'm at. At first, I think he's crazy for choosing the same tree as me, but then I realize he plans to finish me off and then take all the coconuts for himself.
Shawn whips out a concealed spear from behind his back and throws it in my direction, but I've already suspected that. I hurl myself out of the way and throw my coconut at him. It barely misses his head, and he takes out another spear from a sheath he has hanging on his back. I don't have much time left—so I throw a fallen coconut again. This time it nails him in the chest. He winces and drops down onto the ground, his knees wobbling.
I get behind Shawn and examine the spears he has in his sheath. Right before I can act, he whirls around and tries to stab me with one he's holding. I'm too quick—I thrust my knife's blade into his back. Blood splatters out in a fine mist. In a few moments, I hear the cannon fire for Shawn's death. I grab his sheath of spears and fill my pack with two coconuts before leaving. I don't want to stick around when the hovercraft comes; others might see it and come after me, knowing that his killer is nearby.
As I run off, I begin to wonder how the other District 5 tribute, Anna Willis, will fend for herself on this island without Shawn. I can't imagine how my life at the Games would feel if I lost Mal. Maybe he's dead right now. I'll look for him in the sky tonight when all the faces of the dead tributes show up.
Nothing much happens for the next few hours. I wait until evening after running farther from the Cornucopia, and the anthem of Panem plays. As my stomach growls (the only thing I had to eat was the rather awful coconut water), I watch nervously for the dead faces in the sky.
First comes District 1. I can see Wendy's stern photo. What happened? Careers don't usually die on the first day. Next is District 5. Both Shawn and Anna's portraits are shown. Then comes District 6—both tributes, Kara Yan and Mikhail Volk, are dead. Then there's District 7. Kai's portrait comes up…I wonder how Amy feels. Esmeralda Salazar from District 8 is dead. So is Ryan Orville from 9. Both of the District 10 tributes are dead: Armie Gillum and Brittany Emerson. Brian from 11 is dead.
The anthem of Panem plays again, and my mind is put at ease when I see that Mal isn't upon the dead tributes. I climb up to a nearby cave with my supplies and place a bit of the dried fruit from my pack in my mouth. It tastes sweet and eases the pain in my stomach a little, but not much. I go deeper in my pack to discover a thin blanket perfect for a cool night like this. I sigh and try to make myself comfortable through the massive chain of events that's happened in the past week.
I wish I could be back in District 12 with my mother and Neha, but I know that isn't possible unless I win the Games. And that means Mal will have to die.
I don't like the idea at all. He confessed his love for me in front of the Capitol during his interview with Genevieve! And for awhile, I was convinced it was fake. I thought his whole attitude and composure was fake. But Mal treated me so nicely back at the Capitol; maybe he really does love me after all.
But now I don't know what to believe.
I sigh and lean back against a smooth rock inside the cave, trying to clear my thoughts. Placing a knife for protection under my leg in case anyone tries to come in this cave, I yawn and let the thin blanket drape over me. It's remotely warm and a bit comforting, but doesn't remind me at all of home with Neha and Mom.
Home.
I sigh and look off into the distance, whispering something under my breath before I close my eyes to catch a bit of sleep.
"Home. Neha, I'm coming home; I promise."