Allies, nothing and everything more.
Chapter 1.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
She grabs her knife from under her pillow and sends it straight into the alarm clock. That bloody thing needed to shut the hell up. Pushing herself out of bed she heads to the bathroom jumps into the cold shower and lets the water dance over her pale skin. She give herself 5 minutes, 5 minutes of peace before training, knowing that due the new arrivals today will be anything but peaceful. She finishes the shower quickly and towel dries her hair. For September it is pretty hot so she slides on a black sportswear crop top and training short, before tying her hair in a high ponytail on top of her head.
She looks at herself sceptically in the mirror, wondering why she's not like the other 15 year old girls, all giggling, make-up, clothes, boys and popularity freaks though so normal in comparison to her. Because the truth is, she is not normal.
She's a blood thirsty hooligan, who would kill you straight up if you joked about:
1. Her size. 2. Her strength and 3. Her lethality.
She is Clove Denpes.
She has always been small, and really it wouldn't affect her that much if she wasn't training for the hunger games. Most people used to see her to be weak, and nothing but a lost, little girl. Oh how she has showed them over the years just how twisted a 'lost, little girl' could be. But occasionally you do get a certain cock muncher who has the illusion that she is not lethal at all. The fun she has on those days.
She jogs down stairs, fumbling her trainers on before grabbing a banana and a fruit shake she makes every evening and heads out her back door. For someone whose parents died 5 years ago she wasn't poor, and her brother and she managed to still live in the middle class house her parents owned before their death.
Checking her watch, she jogs down the dusted roads of District 2 for a good 15 minutes before she comes to the training centre. She decided this morning she would wake an hour earlier to avoid as much human contact as possible with the new trainees. She also knew that if she were to be caught by the trainers, they would make her participate in the 'welcome to training to become a ruthless killer and slightly fucked-up teenager presentation'- or that's what she did last year. On second thoughts maybe they wouldn't want Clove helping in the presentation, last year she scared half the kids to death when she killed one of the cock muncher's right in front of them when they were supposed to be doing an introductory fight.
Shedidn't mind people thinking she was crazy or screwed up though, because really she was. Ever since she began training she was never sane, ever since her mother died in a car crash and-a few ton cases of booze and drugs- later her father killed himself with the grief of his wife's death. For a 10 year old, two deaths was certainly enough for her then, but not anymore.
She craved death. She needed it. It fascinated her, in a way that made butterflies appear in her stomach or make her pulse quicken. She loved death, especially when she was enforcing it.
The training centre was a building as much as it was home for Clove. She knew every detail off the back of her hand and the sweet smell of metal, bleach and blood smelt like a comforting aroma to her. The high walls and rows of movable dummies. The arrays of endless weapons and fighting rings all added up to make it Clove's favourite place in the world. She pushes through the doors to the level 5 weapons area walking straight to the back to the knives.
"1,2,3,4,5..." she looks around, "Ahh, 6" She counts sweetly placing 5 of her knives in the various straps on her small frame before picking up the sixth and turning it gracefully in her hands.
Her knives: The 6 most important things in her life. So small and lethal, and only when you have realised there is more to danger than height is it too late. They can produce pain both afar and upfront, though she prefers the latter. The thrill she gets from seeing the light fall from her victims eyes. It enough to keep her going for weeks- until she needs more. She sees killing like a drug. Once you've done it, it's almost impossible to stop.
After a few warm up knife tricks she makes her way back to the training floor still flipping her knife in her small hands. The room is empty though the lights have been switched on already. She silently thanks a higher power for the secularity and takes position 7 meters away from the dummy opposite her. Flexing her muscles and stretching slightly she pulls two more knives into her hands before throwing them at the target board, each simultaneously hitting the bullseye. She smiles to herself.
"Not bad" A low voice says from behind her.
His eyes are pulled open to the sound of light breathing in his ear. He looks to the sleeping- naked- girl lay next to him and winces slightly. Why? Why did I let her stay over? He scolds himself as he rolls onto the floor silently making his way to the bathroom, freezing slightly as the girl mutters in her sleep. Still heavy from sleep and last night's 'abuse' of alcohol consumption he manages to push himself into the shower, the cold water waking the nerves under his thick skin. The shower is quick and cold, and he dries his hair on the cotton towels his mother bought early that week.
"There from the Capitol" She said excitably, running the fabric through her hand. He replied with a grunt to let her know that he was there- even if he wasn't listening.
"Only the best for the Evans family" Their personal shopper echoed as he handed them to the maids.
Only the best for the Evans family. Because that's what they are, they are the best.
For the past hundred years the Evans family have been at the top of the inexistent District 2 social ladder. Producing 4 victors and many high standing socialites now living in the Capitol. Apart from the riches in the Capitol itself they are the most well known family of Panem as he himself will become a Victor for them too someday.
Cato Evans. The strong, brutal, handsome, charming, violent and alluring Cato Evans. He was the top of the top, the richest of the richest, and the best of the best. And in two years he will be competing in the 74th annual Hunger Games. Still now, he couldn't wait. He had been training for the past 8 years of his life and at the age of 16 he still had two years to wait till he could be judged to decide whether he gets to volunteer. Though even now everyone knows he will get it. Everyone knows Cato Evans, with his charm and monstrous build. And everyone wants a bit of him.
It is no secret that the boy gets around, sleeping with many of the rich girls from district 2. And it is no secret that he never has the same girl for too long. Whether they bore him or it has simply just been to long, once you hook up with Cato Evans it won't be long until you are a part of the growing number of hormonal girls, who want so badly to get back in his bed.
He pulls on his training gear, running his hands through his golden blond hair in attempts to flatten down the ruffled parts. Peaking his head from around the door he sees his victim from last night. Tall, blond, curvy, hot. Just like always. Mona her name was, a fellow trainee for the games though he heavily doubts she will become a tribute let alone a victor. She isn't ruthless, isn't lethal or free willed. She practically begged him to sleep with her. Just another one of his toys. He has to admit though; he will use her for a while, up to the point where she believes she is different, telling her friends that she indeed has Cato Evans' heart. Though she may start with that already today, after his clumsiness of not sending her home last night. He leaves his bedroom as quickly as possible, hurrying down the glass staircase to get away before she wakes up. Oh how he would love to see her face when she wakes up alone, he laughs at the thought of it already.
Many of the house maids and butlers are already up and working, cleaning the already spotless house for the arrival of his father tomorrow. He has been out in the Capitol, helping the one and only Seneca Crane design next year's Games arena, his mother mentioned that it will be very terrainy, though he doubts that is even a word. His father owns the biggest stone manufacturing company in the whole country and he spends more time away than at home with his family.
His father is 7 years older than his mother, and they married when he was 24 and his mother was 17. It was an arranged marriage and it took many years for his mother somehow fall in love with Tasker Evans, Cato's father. Surprisingly it wasn't his father who won the games- as he opted to train to take over his grandfathers business, while his brother Brutus won for his generations of Evans'- it was his mother. She volunteered the year after her marriage to his father and was so to speak another Evans who won the games. So they now live in the victors village, his mother now promoting her own Capitol fashion label while Cato and his two sisters: Holland and Romy stayed at home. His sisters were alot younger than Cato, he being 16 while the twins where only 6.
There was no doubt that Cato was a ruthless killer, but he couldn't help but love the two blond girls who ran around their home without a care in the world. At the end of the day, someone had to love them. With their father being so tied down in business and their mother working in the Capitol, the girls never really were brought up with the love they needed. And soon their parents would choose whether they were to become careers, or socialites.
"Here you go, Mr. Evans" One of the kitchen staff say, passing Cato his protein shake as he makes his way into the kitchen. He nods before turning to leave.
"Make sure the nanny gets the girls up for the stylist, we wouldn't want them looking bad for my parents return tomorrow would we. And I won't be home until late tonight" Cato says forcefully to the maid.
"Of course Mr. Evans, anything else?" She replies. But he leaves before answering.
He was up early this morning, even for himself. But there was no way he was being disturbed in training due to the new arrivals today. One hour early really wouldn't do any harm. He runs down the empty streets sipping on his drink making his way to the training centre. It was quite a run, 30 minutes maybe but he refused to be dropped off in one of his families many cars. By the time he gets to the training centre it is already open. He pushes through the double doors, jogging into the training floor. He switches the lights on before going upstairs to find his sword.
Yes, his sword. It was the un-denying fact of this place, that sword was his and his only. No one questioned him on it, not since the last guy that did had the very same sword cut right through his torso. Still to this day Cato can't fully get out the blood stained on the metal. He liked it though, it showed he was the boss around here and no one any time soon should forget that. He holds it firmly in his hands, slashing in through the air gracefully- well, as graceful as a sword could be. He walks casually back into the training area, only now, he isn't the only one training.
He recognizes her straight away, the petite girl standing by the dummies, stretching her arms and cracking her neck in the very same way he does. Clove Denpes. Her long, dark hair swishing slightly as she moves from right to left. Her pale milk skin. Her black eyes. There was simply no one else like her. She was ruthless and twisted, not afraid to get her hands dirty. He remembers of the time last year when she killed a boy right in this very room.
He was sat in the corner with a group of his friends when he heard the banshee cries of the children around. He stood up trying to see what was going on, and there she stood over a boy from his class her blooded knife in her right hand. She smiled down at the dying boy, laughing as the others cried. Oh yes she was twisted, much like himself though he won't admit it.
He's never talked to the girl mind you, just caught a glimpse of her training from time to time, but other than that- nothing. Though she made no effort to talk to him either, and he wouldn't be surprised if she didn't know he even existed. She was probably the only girl in the whole of District 2 who wasn't pining after him and he liked that.
He walks up behind her, carefully not disturbing her from throwing the three knives in her hand and instead them finding themself in his head. She moves so quick and so lethally, sending the knives soaring through the air before hitting the three bullseye on her target dummy.
He wants her. There was no one in the whole of District 2 who has skill as close to him, but out of them all, she is the best. Coach Lynn has mentioned that maybe it would be best for him to find a training partner like most people do in the years before the games- in attempts to diverse their weapon handling for the arena. She was the best one for it. And Cato always got the best.
"Not bad" He says gently from behind her. She whips around, holding a fourth knife to his throat. He holds his hands up. "So easy to scare, little one" He teases. And he gets the reaction he was hoping for.
Her face boils a deep shade of red, before she presses the knife so slowly into his neck. He doesn't flinch though, he can barely feel it.
"Don't. Call. Me. Little" she says simply. Cato laughs slightly,
"Just stating the facts". She pulls her knife and stuffs it back into her straps before turning on her heels and retrieving her knives. He follows, regardless of the fact she may press a little harder next time.
She senses him behind her, "What do you want, Cato?" She says before he reaches her.
Oh Cato, Cato Evans. The highlight of District 2's future careers. She laughs at the thought of it. He is nothing but a brutal, no brainer, player who wouldn't survive in the Games even if he was against 23 tributes from district 12.
"Well, Clove" He starts, "Firstly I am surprised that you actually know my name for starts so this is going better than I would have thought." He says, flashing his most charismatic of smiles.
"And secondly" She continues for him impatiently, wanting to get back to training.
"Secondly, I was wondering if you wanted to be partners, you know I teach you what I know and vice-versa." He says.
She is taken aback by his question before she starts laughing. Oh yes, her and Cato would make a perfect team, the thought is just too absurd to take seriously.
"No, I think I will just stick my own" She says between breaths before carrying on with her knife throwing.
He expected as much. He smirks before walking away to the trainees office.
Okay, we'll do this the hard way then.