Hey, guys! I'm back with a third version of this story! I plan on actually finishing it this time, not just coming up with ideas out of the blue.

Title—The Demigod Games.

Summary—Things have changed for Camp Half Blood majorly in the past twenty-four years. It's turned into a dystopian, post-apocalyptic setting with twenty separate Districts which yearly take part in a fight to the death on live television as penance for their rebellion on Kronos. Disclaimer—I don't own the idea for it, or the Games, or any canon characters.

Rating—T, obviously.

The Districts are based on the setup of the cabins at Camp Half Blood, by the way! If you don't know them, here is a link (remove spaces):

camphalfblood . wikia wiki / Cabins

PART I

I wake up to a foul odor that resembles that of sulfur. I prop myself up on my shoulder and realize that my mom has set up one of her breakfast in a bottle potions, as she calls them.

I wrinkle my nose and stash the bottle in the drawer, along with the other ones I refuse to eat. She has this routine that if we eat one on every Reaping day, that we'll not get reaped. And here I am, sixteen years old, and not been reaped once, yet not gulping down one of these concoctions ever in my lifetime.

I slip out of the bed and slide my feet into my shoes. Walk over to my dresser and slip on a pair of tight trousers, a green shirt. I pull the ponytail out of my dark black hair, and brush it out lightly with a piece of wire I've molded into a brush to use. Being from District 20, we're obviously the poorest, even though we supply the most to the Capitol. I put my hair back in a ponytail and slip my hands into my back pockets.

I step out into the warm sunlight and look around at my surroundings. Same as usual, though more people will be sleeping in, as it is Reaping day. Might as well sleep as long as you can.

I roll my eyes at the thought of the two that will be sliding away into their homes, losing their children. No time to think about things like that.

Instead, I sprint down into the run-down part of the district, to my favorite place. The potion shop. I always have some herbs leftover for them. The owner likes me for all the herbs I bring in. Says I've kept the place up and running.

"Thank you." the woman at the trading counter says, handing me four drachmas. Gods, how hard she must have worked for these. Or, more-than-likely, stole from a Peacekeeper, the men that run our district.

I walk back into the warm, sticky air and walk over into a particularly grassy and shady part of the town. A small, undisturbed willow sits next to a watering hole. Sitting up on the lowest bough of the tree is my best friend, Ajax. I smile up at him and sprint the rest of the way over.

"Hey," he says, jumping out of the tree and landing on his feet.

"Done any trading today?" I ask him, showing him the drachmas I got.

"Gods," he says, holding out a small piece of metal. "I bought this for you."

He places it in my palm and I examine it. "Gosh, is this real silver?" It could keep a family supplied with food for about a year, by the looks of it.

"I dunno," he shrugs and I smile. "I found it out in the woods."

I laugh. "Must be plenty of more, if you wanna go find them?"

"I would, but, ah... Peacekeeper alert." he nods to a figure behind me and I turn.

"You're right. I'll see you at the square later." I say.

"See ya."

I run back to my house and step through the door. My older sister and younger brother sit at the table, eating a bit of stale bread.

My mom stands at our wood stove, cleaning a bit of ash out of it.

"Violet, I have some clothes set out for you on your bed." she says, washing a bit of dust out of the stove.

"Okay," I say, walking into my room. Laid on my bed is a light purple dress.

I smile. My favorite color. A tub full of warm water waits for me in the room next to mine. I strip down and sink down into it, scrubbing the dirt and grime from my body.

I towel-dry myself and slip into the dress, and comb my hair out, leaving it hanging over my shoulders. I walk over to the pile of clothes I wore and slip the small piece of silver out of the pocket of my jeans. I examine it. It's a circular pin with a small star on the inside. I smile and pin it onto my dress.

Stepping back into my shoes and walk into the kitchen.

"You look beautiful," my mom says, smiling.

"Thank you." I say and sit down at the table, eating a bit of bread with cheese spread over it.

The clock reads one o'clock, so we all stand up and head into the square. Attendance is mandatory, unless Death is about to overtake you. If not, you'll be imprisoned and whipped publicly for everyone to see.

These are the rules that constantly make me roll my eyes. What's the point anyways?

I actually like the fact they hold the Reaping in the town square. Tiny storefronts decorate the sides, and the smell of baking bread almost always fills the air. On the rooftops, perched like birds just waiting to strike down a prey, sit men with cameras, filming the Reaping for the Capitol to see.

I'm lost in the crowd of people as I sign in, walking over silently to the sixteen year old section. We're divided into sections, with the oldest at the front, the youngest in the back.

People file silently into their sections. Twelve-through-eighteen year old's are the only ones that can be reaped. Once you're a victor, or pass up one of those ages, you're no longer eligible to be reaped. Your name goes in once for each age, so my name has been in four times, being sixteen.

We all focus our attention on the stage set up in front of the Justice Building, which holds six chairs, a podium, and two glass balls full of slips of paper. I stare at the girls ball, thinking about the four that have Violet Moire written on them in delicate handwriting.

The doors of the Justice Building open, and the mayor of District 20 sits in one of the chairs, our District escort, Clio Marloy, occupying the next chair, and all four of District 20's victors occupying the remaining chairs.

The clock strikes two o'clock, and the mayor steps up to the podium. He recites the list of wars, droughts, hurricanes, floods, disasters that all led up to the Rebellion against Kronos, the titan lord that rules the country of Graecia, once the nation of North America.

How all of this led up to the Demigod Games. Because of our rebellion, our leaders would take up one male and one female—named tributes—from each of the 20 districts, and make them fight to the death in a public arena until one lone victor stands.

Then the mayor reads off the list of past victors for District 20. In twenty-three years, we've had only four.

Now it's time for the Reaping. The mayor introduces Clio Marloy, who trots up to the stage.

"Happy Demigod Games!" she exclaims into the microphone, her purple curls bouncing back and forth. "And, may the odds be ever in your favor!" She goes off on how it's an honor to be here, though we all know she is dying to get bumped up to a higher District.

Now it's time for the actual reaping part. "As usual, ladies first!" Clio squeaks, bouncing over to the glass ball full of slips of paper with the girls names written on them.

She slides her perfectly, carefully manicured hand down into the bowl and rummages her hands around inside of it.

She pulls out a slip of paper and walks back over to the microphone. I pray to any god out there that might be listening that it's not my sister.

She reads the name off.

The name isn't hers.

The name is Violet Moire.

So, yeah. I'm leaving you all with a cliffhanger. Lol. I promise I'm gonna update this one though! :D

Review please. :3

You could kinda see the ending there though. XD.

So... I'm reading my book and trying to go along with it. During fourth period tomorrow, it's reading day, and I'm going to work on chapter 2 of this, and the next chapter of All For One. Okay! Bye now.

~PerseusSlayerOfMedusa