I don't know where I am. I don't know how I got here, I don't even know my own name. Though my closed eyes, clenched shut in fear, I can make out a bright light source and I can fell the bustle around me. When I try to move, I find that my wrists and ankles are bound to a cold surface, a table. From every direction around me, I hear frantic voice as I feel myself be pushed around corners. I don't dare open my eyes in fear that I may never wake from this twisted nightmare. Although I was still restrained, I frantically twist and turn, screaming like a rampaging animal. Why am I here?!

Suddenly, the table I'm on slams to a stop and I hear a door slam shut behind me. But I am not alone. As two male voices fill the room, I crane my next to hear what they are saying. Then as they speak, I silence myself out of curiosity, but still keep my eyes shut.

"What's the status on 113-15?" a voice asks. I had never heard a voice like it, with almost a melodic tone, soft as can be. 113-15? What dies that mean? A rough gravelly voice answers the Smooth Voice.

"No signs of recovered memory. She won't open her eyes," he sighs, "And the Game?"

"130-3 turned on 14 after he killed 130-15. Cahlia won," Soft Voice states. What Game? Who's Cahlia?

"Good, she has the song. The Queen will be here shortly, I'll leave you with the girl," Deep Voice says as I, once again, hear the slamming of that door. As I hear footsteps coming towards me, I cringe, fearing the worst. Am I going to die? I don't even know who I am! My life would be over before it had even begun!

"Can you hear me? My name is Erik Innsbrook. I promise I won't hurt you, can you please open your eyes?" he asks. His voice seems to have a relaxing musical tone to it, almost coercing me to open. But then I remember.

"Why should I?" I ask defiantly.

"Because you are important. We brought you here for a special job and we need you to do it. the fate of thousands of innocents lays in your hands," Erik states as the door opens once more and another person enters the room.

"Your Majesty, I am honored that you could join us," Erik says, walking over to the newcomer. A melodic laughter fills the room, a woman's, the Queen's.

"Erik, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Plumeria!" the woman, Plumeria, chortles, "Has she been cooperating?"

Finally convinced that these people sound nice enough, I slowly open my eyes, cringing at the industrial style lights that hit me full on in the face. After my eyes adjust to the room, I curiously take in my surroundings. The room is empty besides me, the table, and the others. The walls are a mint green tile that reflects the stark white light from the ceiling. Plumeria couldn't have been older than seventeen with her childish porcelain features. But she was beautiful and elegantly simple with cascading chocolate colored curls and a simple white tunic. Erik was an interesting sight to see for different reasons. He was young as well, about eighteen I would say. But a haunted look in his eyes suggested that he had seen much for his age. His eyes were a brilliant amber color and his almost black hair was precisely slicked back. His most prominent feature, however, was the scar on the right side of his face, a red line crossing from eyebrow to cheek, sparing the eye itself. The duo looks at me with intense interest and I can't think of anything better to say.

"Who are you? And who am I?"

Smiling, Plumeria walks towards me and states simply:

"I am Plumeria Mulheim, Queen of the Lost Land. And you are Kiri Quinlan and you dies in the Hunger Games."

A/N

And here is the start of my next story! Now you can tell that there s something weird going on here... please send tributes for the 131st Games, rules and forms on my profile! Thanks and please review!

Christine