Yes yes, another Hunger Games fic and i do not own the Hunger Games or any of the characters. Please read and review, all comments are appreciated, wanted and welcomed :)
I crash through the shrubs and undergrowth in the arena, small thorns raking my legs as they work furiously to get me away from my attacker. My axe does not weigh me down too much-I am used to carrying around at this point-but I till need to be cautious of my weapon…making sure it only hurts who it is supposed to. As I look behind me to see if Satin is still chasing me, I fumble, tripping over a boulder that had gone unnoticed in my desperation to save my life and keep up my façade. I stumble and fall, rolling down the steep slope. My axe had scraped my ankle in my escape attempt, but apart from that and a few scratches, I was relatively in OK condition.
I decide to lie down for a minute, give myself time to rest. Too bad I had underestimated my enemy, for when I looked up the District One tribute stood over me. He laughed a cold, cruel, wicked laugh and I made my face a mask of fear, trying to hide my anticipation of what was to come next. I don't want to kill, to be a murderess, but I know I can and will have to, so I might as well do so now.
"Well, well, well. Who do we have here? Johanna Mason," he shook his head mockingly, smiling down at me with contempt. I gladly returned the smile, which only broadened his grin. "Shouldn't you know not to play with axes? You could get hurt!" he obviously faked the concern, sarcasm dripping off his voice like icicles. "You're not strong enough for that! Poor widdle Johanna Mason can't hurt a fly and certainly not another tribute!" He lifted his dagger into full view and my grip on my axe tightened. "Ooh, I'm scared! How many of us are left now? Seven? Well tonight I guess it will be six…or less." Satin laughed again, "sorry you wont be around to see who made it through the night!" and with that, he brought down the dagger.
I quickly rolled out of the way and slashed at his shins with my weapon. His scream of pain told my I hit my mark, and he fell on the rocks with a dull thud. I stood up over him, and snickered at how our positions had reversed. "You don't think I can hurt a fly?" I sneered, my voice colder then ice and harder then a diamond. "Silly Satin," I continued, positioning my axe above his throat. "I can hurt a fly all right, and you my friend, are the king of them." I smiled a sickening, mad, psychotic smile trying to hide my discomfort and dislike of the whole situation, thought to myself "I'm sorry," and swung the blade. The answering cannon fire told me I had done my job and that Satin was no more. I instantly felt a sharp stab of sorrow, which was quickly diminished when I remembered how everyone I loved die. It was time for revenge. "You have so much to learn," I whispered to his beheaded corpse, still bleeding, warm and newly dead- lying on the ground. I smile a sweet smile that oozed innocence and headed back to my camp, masking the regret and pain I felt once more at the brutal death that took place at my hands, leaving my first kill behind for the hovercraft to pick up. I choked back my tears and sighed shakily.
Let the Hunger Games begin... No more Mrs. Nice-Guy.