There is a contest going on-well, it just closed, actually-to write an alternate ending to the Hunger Games. It had to be one chapter long and entries were from all points in HG, CF, and MJ, and some less clear. I know I'm biased, but I think mine's the best :)

To be clear - this contest was NOT on fanfiction. I just decided to post it here so people who have me on Author Alert can read :)

I lick my lips and stare out across the plain. Dawn is almost here. It's almost time. My right hand grips the hilts of four slim knives while my left hand is tucked carefully under my armpit. It's bloody cold out here. My exposed fingers are almost blue with cold and my ears are freezing.

Cato left just a few minutes ago to scout for any tributes that might be heading this way. I expect three of them to show up. Moira from 5, Thresh from 11, and, of course, Katniss from 12. Peeta won't, probably. I still can't believe Cato let him get away. He's assured me, though, over and over, that Peeta will die any day now. A cut like that left untreated, assuming he doesn't bleed out, will get infected. It's actually a miracle he hasn't died already. It's a miracle she hasn't died already. Figures I decide to volunteer the year District 12 sends in a pair like Fire Girl and Lover Boy.

I grit my teeth as thoughts surface that I'd prefer to keep subdued. Our trainers always told us to never concern ourselves with what is outside the arena. We have to focus on the present, on the arena.

But I can't help it. Just thinking about those two gets my blood boiling. From the very moment she appeared on camera, Katniss Everdeen has been doing everything she can to kill me. I know that sounds a little melodramatic, I admit it, but it's true. She's got the entire Capitol in love with her and her sister. At first I really thought it was all luck and good makeup. She was very unimpressive in the gym. Skinny little thing, probably half-starved, had Peeta the puppy dog trailing after her everywhere. When I saw her handling weapons I laughed to myself. She's somewhat competent with a knife. I saw her at my station and I marched right over and threw a dozen knives, hitting the target every time. Just to remind her who's really going to win.

Then that puny daughter of a coal miner goes and earns herself a bloody score of eleven! How? How? I got a nine. She got an eleven. I've been training since the day I could walk, since I could hold a knife. How was I beaten by that little street urchin? Of course, if that didn't make things bad enough, then the baker boy has to go and confess undying love for her. 'Oh boo hoo, those poor star-crossed lovers! It's tragic!' Renata, our Capitol escort, told us when we got back to our floor after our interview that the pained lover thing was what they were talking about out in the Capitol. Cato was a sight to behold after that.

Then she bloody well goes and drops a nest of Tracker Jackers on us and kills Glimmer and Coraline.

I shake my head quickly. I really need to focus. The sun is breaking over the horizon. It's time. Any minute now. I pull my left hand out of my armpit and transfer three knives into it, leaving one in my right to throw.

There! On the plain. The ground is opening and…yes! Here comes a table, covered in a white cloth. There are four bags on the table, varying in size and color. I spot mine. It's black and has a big white 2 right on it.

In a flash of red hair, Moira suddenly comes flying out of the Cornucopia, snags her bag, and she's halfway into the trees before I even realize I should be attacking her. I spring up and hurl a knife at her when she enters the woods. It misses, lodging itself in a tree just behind her. She gives a surprised little shriek and streaks away even faster than before. I consider following her for a moment, glancing between the fleeing redhead and the field to my right.

My decision is made for me when a tiny figure runs onto the field, a loaded bow clenched in her hands. Katniss. I bare my teeth and sprint out of the trees, throwing a knife at her the moment I get close enough. She must hear it coming because she turns and fires that arrow and it knocks my knife away. For a moment, I admire her. The little rat's an archer. A damn good one, too.

So that's how you earned your eleven, I think.

Another arrow sails towards me and there's no time to throw a knife to deflect it. My training takes over and I turn to protect my heart. The arrow pierces my skin and I suck in a sharp breath through my teeth. Bloody hell that hurts! I slow to a stop and rip the arrow from my arm, checking quickly to see if there's any horrible damage. I've had worse. I'll live. I snap the arrow in two and throw it to the ground.

She's at the table now; her hand is closing around the strap of her tiny bag. I throw the last knife I'm holding and…yes! It catches her across the head as she's turning. I sprint forward. She's stumbling back, she fires another arrow. I jump out of the trajectory easily and throw myself forward, pushing the Fire Girl to the ground. It's easy to get on top of her, to pin her tiny arms under my legs.

And I smile. I've done it. I've caught the great Katniss. The Girl on Fire. Lover Boy's True Love. She's helpless beneath me. My smile turns into a leer.

"Where's your boyfriend, District Twelve? Still hanging on?"

Her dark eyes narrow and she snarls out, "He's out there right now. Hunting Cato. PEETA!" she screams. I jam my fist into her throat, cutting off her shriek.

Peeta? He…how? Cato cut him up! He should be dying! I look around wildly, scanning the forest for a sign of him. A flash of blonde hair, a shadow beside a tree… After a moment, I realize she was pulling my leg. I grin at her. Clever girl.

"Liar. He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him. You've probably got him strapped up in some tree somewhere, while you try to keep his —"

"Clove!" Cato shouts, bursting from the trees. I lift my head and look at him. He looks alarmed, his eyes flicking around for an enemy, his sword drawn. He must have thought Katniss was actually calling for her ally.

I smile and shake my head at him. "He's not here. But look what I've got."

Cato tilts his head, the alarm fading, replaced by grim delight, and walks towards us with a smile on his face. "Well, well, well." He purrs. "Nicely done, Clove."

I smile. "Thank you." Cato prods Katniss' cheek with the tip of his sword and she turns her glare on him. He presses a little harder, drawing blood. "But remember our little promise…?" I say sweetly with a meaningful look at him.

He sighs, rolling his eyes. "The things I sacrifice…Yes, yes. But be quick about it, would you? That guy from Eleven has got to be around here somewhere."

"Well, then," I say as Katniss starts to struggle beneath me. "Why don't you keep an eye out for him while I take care of this?"

Cato backs away with a grim smile on his face. I turn my attention back to the pinned girl beneath me. "Now. Where were we?"

Katniss glares at me. "Just do it!" she snarls.

I laugh and shake my head. "No, no, no, I can't do that. See, Cato and I have an agreement. As long as I get to kill you, I have to make it worth while. It's been rather boring since the Bloodbath, you know. No one's really shed a lot of blood. Unless your little ally bled a lot when she died." I lean closer. "Did she? …Ooh she did, didn't she? I wish I could've seen it."

Katniss looks absolutely livid. I must've hit a spot. I smile at her and open my jacket to get a knife. I pull out a dainty curved one that's really good for cutting. Now seems like a good time to use it. I glance up automatically; making sure no one is around. Cato's still there, switching between watching me and watching the land.

I look down at Katniss again. "Let's see. I…think…yes. Let's start with your mouth. I don't think you'll need your lips to scream. And you're going to scream, yes, you will. Until I get bored. Then I think I'll cut your tongue out."

Katniss spits in my face. I jerk back, disgust twisting across my features. It's warm, slimy, and decidedly gross. I slap her with my free hand then reach up to wipe it off my face. She's seething, glaring at me with undisguised loathing.

I lower the knife to her face and slowly, carefully, I carve two shallow cuts vertically next to each other on her forehead. 11.

"Eleven," I say. "The number fits you. Your score, your little pathetic ally… Let's begin, shall we?" I croon and start to cut around her lips.

"Clove!" Cato shouts suddenly and I jerk up. He's running towards me, staring at something on the other side of me. I turn my head and my heart stops beating for a moment. Monstrous, dark, livid, Thresh of District 11 is tearing across the field towards me with the intent to kill. Cato lets out a bellow of rage. He's too far, though. Thresh will reach me first.

I turn back to Katniss. She's watching me, waiting, hope in her eyes. I really, really want to drag this out. But I have to move now or I'm going to die. But if I leave her alone she might escape. I can't have that. I bare my teeth and scream in frustration. I hear Cato yell another warning and I make up my mind. With the knife I was going to use to carve her up, I slit Katniss Everdeen's throat and I throw myself away from her.

I roll over and spring lightly into a crouch. Thresh is only a few feet from Katniss' dying body. He looks down at her, surprise etched across his face.

Cato's beside me now. He pulls me to my feet. "I'm alright," I growl, pulling several knives from my jacket.

"Was Rue your ally?" Thresh asks the dying girl from 12. What? Why is he not attacking?

"Yes," she chokes out. "I tried…save her…"

Thresh nods. "Go to sleep, Fire Girl," he says, then he turns on us, his eyes burning with rage.

"Oh damn," I whisper, gripping the knives. He hurls that giant rock of his at us and I jump away, narrowly avoiding what would've probably broken my shoulder. I spin back around and see that Thresh has both remaining packs slung on his shoulders. I watch as he sprints off into the woods.

Cato immediately goes tearing after him, but I pause by Katniss. She stares up at me, undying hatred on her pale dying face. Then she stops shuddering, her hands , which were trying to hold her throat together, go slack, and the light leaves her eyes. The anger, though, does not leave her face.

The cannon fires.

I'm not happy. I've wanted to kill her for so long. And now she's dead. I don't even feel like I got my revenge. Damn Thresh! Damn him to the darkest pits!

Before I join Cato in the pursuit of Thresh, I kneel down and quickly check Katniss' pack for supplies. She's got a little food in there, plus some water and bandages. I remove the pack and strap it on myself and I take her knife. The bow and arrow will do me no good so I leave it be. In her bag from the table is a single long container containing a syringe filled with a clear liquid. Medicine. I keep that. Then I race off after Cato, leaving behind the Girl on Fire.

Neither Cato nor Thresh has made any attempt to conceal their path. It's easy to follow them through the edges of the woods towards the vast field where Thresh has been lurking. I don't want to go in there. It's always seemed so…sinister. Anything could be hiding in there. That's Thresh's turf. He knows he'd have no chance on that field against both of us.

I'm very fast. Even so, I don't catch up to the boys until they're deep into the void of tall grass and the sun is high in the sky. They're fighting in what probably was Thresh's camp. The grass has been pressed down after being walked on so much. Thresh has a long, curved blade and he's pretty evenly matched with Cato. I lurk in the grass, waiting for my chance. I'm not the best at close-range fighting and if I throw I might accidentally hit Cato. He probably knows I'm here, but I'm not sure about Thresh.

Impatiently twirling the knife through my fingers, I wait for an opening, but the boys are moving so fast that it's impossible to pick a safe place to aim.

Thresh suddenly lunges at Cato, knocking Cato's sword out of the way with his own. Cato is unprepared and Thresh punches him square in the face. Cato staggers back and Thresh goes in for another blow. Oh hell. Cato is not a hand-to-hand combatant. I creep out into the clearing as Thresh continues to pummel Cato. Cato sees me creeping up behind Thresh but doesn't call out. I hurl the knife at the dark boy from District 11.

It sinks into his back.

Thresh freezes, crying out. Cato kicks him in the stomach then scampers away from Thresh. I throw myself at him just he turns and with the last of his strength, he punches me in the face. I go down, completely dazed. I hear Cato shouting and I just lay there, too stunned to move.

Then a cannon fires.

I open my eyes. Cato's kneeling beside me looking worried. "You alright, Clove?"

"Yeah," I grunt. "I'm perfectly fine." I taste blood in my mouth. I must have bitten my lip when I fell.

He helps me sit up and I put my hand on my forehead, wincing. I look around. Thresh lays dead a few feet away, my knife sticking out of his back, and I smile in satisfaction. Now he's paid for ruining my fun with the coal rat.

"Two down. Two to go," I say.

Once my head is clear enough that I can stand, I retrieve the knife from his back and pick up the dagger Thresh had and add it to my stash. Cato's got both of the black packs from the Feast. He's also got a black eye, a bruise forming on his cheek, some of his hair has been pulled out, I think, and his lips are bloody.

"Wow," I say. "He bloodied you up good."

Cato frowns. "You've got a shiner."

I put my hand up to my eye and wince at the painful contact. At least he didn't do worse, like bash my skull in or something.

We make our way back to the old camp by the lake and we reach it about midday. Katniss' body is long gone, as is the table. Peeta is still strapped up in a tree somewhere, wounded, and Moira won't dare come back, not now.

Cato goes off to retrieve the supplies we stashed last night and I start sorting through the day's spoils. Katniss must've been a good hunter. There's mostly wild game in here and some berries. Thresh's bag contains food from the Capitol; some fruit I don't recognize and two packages of meat. Our bag contains two bodysuits made of a strange flesh-colored mesh. One of them is bigger than the other one which is, if I'm not mistaken, exactly my size. I can't figure out what they're good for, though.

Cato comes back with our supplies as I'm dividing up a meal for us. He sits down on the ground beside me and observes our spoils. "What're those?" he points to the suits.

I shrug. "Bodysuits. No idea what they're for."

He grunts and picks up one of the packs of meat. I hand him a knife and he cuts it open and places a strip of meat in his mouth. I select a hunk of meat that Katniss caught. It tastes like rabbit. As he eats he seems to be thinking about something. "So, now what do you suppose we should do?"

I finish chewing the slice of meat in my mouth. "Wait, I think. Moira's gone off to hide. We're not going to find her by just walking around. Lover Boy could be anywhere. Katniss wouldn't have left him vulnerable so we're probably not going to be able to get to him easily. But we don't have to worry about him much longer."

He raises one eyebrow and I hold up the box with the syringe in it.

"I don't think this was for Katniss."

Cato nods. "Told you I cut him good."

"Not good enough if he lived this long," I mutter. Cato scowls at me. "Anyway. We're going to fix ourselves up. No offense, Cato, but you look like hell." His scowl deepens.

We eat our food then head down to the sandy area beside the lake with our remaining medkit to take care of the abrasions we got today. Cato got the worst of it so I made him sit still and I get to work. He's hopeless at healing. I'm no doctor, but at least I paid attention during our first aid lessons. Plus he's a big baby. He can charge into battle and take even the most severe wounds like a man, but it's afterwards when he's getting patched up that he's a yellow-belly.

He doesn't fuss much because we're being filmed but he winces and there's no shortage of curses escaping from between his clenched lips

"Cato," I sigh. "There are mothers out there who do not want their children learning a glut of District 2 slang."

He lets out an irritable growl. "Hurry up."

I frown at him. "Do you want me to fix you up or not? I've got my own stuff to deal with."

He grumbles again but I sense that he's agreeing.

"Good. Now shut up and sit still."

"Hmph. Yes ma'am."

Now that he's behaving it's easy to apply the bandage to the cut on his forehead. I give him a cold compress for the lump on his head then shoo him away so I can deal with my wounds in peace.

There's nothing I can do for my mouth or my black eye so I strip off my jacket and observe my arm. The shirt is stuck to my arm with blood so I pour water on it. Cato's noticed my arm and he's back by my side.

"What happened there?"

"Katniss."

"Hmm. She bloodied you up good."

I shot him a dirty look.

He smiles. "Want my help?"

I arch one eyebrow. He sits down, abandoning his cold compress, and carefully peels the fabric away from my arm. He makes a face at the wound but picks up the water and pours it over the lesion and, as I watch, amazed, he whips out a sterile cloth and wipes away the dried and fresh blood. I guess he did pay attention. Maybe it's easier when the wound isn't on his body.

"Okay, now what do I do?" he asks.

"Try to pour that water right into the wound if you can," I say. "I need to make sure it's clean. Then get some of the antiseptic cream—it's in the yellow tube—and squeeze some of it on a clean bandage. Wash your hands in the lake first."

He does what I ask, oddly compliant, and I wait patiently, enjoying this more sober Cato. He's been in a bad mood for days. Katniss' death has seemed to placate him in the way Thresh's had satisfied me. Or maybe the realization that our final two competitors won't be putting up thrilling fights is a major buzz kill for him. Me, I'm ready to just kill Moira and Peeta and go home. I don't need a thrilling fight.

Cato finishes bandaging my arm then slides the sleeve back down. "Alright, let's go eat." And he leaves me to clean of the mess. I roll my eyes. Packing all of the useful supplies into the medkit and chucking all of the used stuff into the lake, I make my way back to our small campsite.

We munch on the fruit from Katniss' pack and finish off one of the packages of meat. I turn my attention to the two bodysuits.

Something each of you needs desperately.

What desperate need are these bodysuits fulfilling?

I do not think they're temperature regulators. We've been fine so far. Cato and I, we're not lovers, but we're friendly enough that we have no problem sleeping curled up together to conserve body heat. I won't admit it aloud, but it's a pleasant feeling to be curled against his chest while his arms are around me like a blanket. That, plus our actual blankets, has made it easy to keep warm. And during the day we've been stripping off our jackets and keeping to the shade and near the water to stay cool.

I run the material between my fingers, frowning. I have an idea…it's kind of crazy…but I've seen something like this before, I think. Back home in the training gym. I tell Cato to hold up one of the sleeves. He realizes what I'm doing when I pick up the knife and slice the sleeve. The blade passes across the fabric like it's nothing more than a stick. I stab at the sleeve and the knife just bounces off.

And I laugh, "Shield Skins." Our trainers use these at home during spars so we won't hurt them. Of course we don't get to use them. No, we have to get used to the pain. The ones at home aren't flesh-colored, though. I find the nearly invisible zipper at the top near the neck and I undo it.

I strip down to my undergarments, give Cato the evil eye when I catch him studying my figure with interest, and slide the Shield Skin up my body. We help each other zip up then I pull my clothes back on. The suit doesn't really cover that much. It covers our torsos and parts of our necks, plus our upper arms and down to our thighs, but nothing else. We practice running and maneuvering our weapons while in the Shield Skins. It feels a bit strange, but the Skin doesn't actually hinder me at all.

Before I killed Katniss, I suppose this would've been something we needed desperately. We wouldn't have been able to get close enough for a kill with her armed with that bow. Now, though, I don't know how much good the suits will do us. Unless Moira or Peeta can get close enough to wound us, which I doubt.

Night falls and the sky grows dark. The anthem begins to play and the Capitol seal appears. Then Thresh's face replaces it. He shines there for about a minute then he's replaced by Katniss. I can only imagine what Lover Boy must be thinking. What Moira must be thinking.

Cato volunteers first watch. I curl up under the blankets with my head near Cato's thigh. He puts his hand on my arm, rubbing it soothingly, and slowly I drift off to sleep. It's nice.

The next day is uneventfully boring. I spend a while in the woods looking for food with several of Katniss' berries as reference. Good thing, too, because there are several dark-berried bushes in here, not just the one with the sweet berries she'd collected. We've had a hard time judging what was safe to eat in here since the supplies got blown up. I realize as I'm searching that it was probably Katniss who had caused the explosions; with those arrows and that skill, she could have found a way to detonate the bombs without getting killed. We have had to resort to watching and waiting for mockingjays to eat something before we would dare to consume it.

In retrospect, perhaps I shouldn't have stayed away from camp so long, even if I was gathering food. When I return to camp late in the afternoon with a pack full of berries, Cato springs to his feet looking fervently relieved.

"Where have you been?" He demands.

"Getting some of those sweet berries," I say, opening the pack for him to see. He looks in, a frown on his face, and I can see him searching for something to stay mad at.

"I thought something might've gotten you."

"Did you hear a cannon? Come on, Cato. I'm the most dangerous thing in here. Especially with the Shield Skin."

He grounds his teeth together, but I can tell I've won. "Don't do it again." He finally growls and marches back to our stuff. But he doesn't complain once while he's stuffing his face with the berries.

He takes first watch again since I "must be tired from gathering all those berries." Actually, I'm not, really, but extra sleep is extra sleep, so I let him.

The sound of a cannon jerks me awake the following morning. Cato, it seems, fell asleep last night because I feel his arm around me for half a second before he sits up, looking around automatically. He glances down, just to make sure it wasn't me, then frowns.

"So. It's just us, then, and one other."

"It'll be Peeta that kicked the bucket," I say. "Katniss was probably taking care of him. Without her…"

"Hmm." Cato says, but I can see he's not fully convinced. It could very well have been Moira that died just now. Something, though, tells me it's Peeta.

So Moira will either come here or they'll make us go to her. Either way, I doubt we'll be spending another twenty-four hours here. We pack up our supplies and we wait. I do some stretches, munch on some food, and make a quick mental inventory of my knives. I lost a few of them in the fighting two days ago, but no matter. I only need one to kill someone.

It's midday when she appears.

Cato's watching me while I'm doing some more stretches. I seriously think that young man fancies me. It's somewhat flattering to think about. I think I'm fairly pretty, but I've never noticed anyone particularly interested in me. But it would explain the way Cato has acted since we've been in the Capitol. He was angry when people catcalled at me during the Opening Ceremonies and Interviews. He was scared to death when I almost didn't make it to the lake in time after the Tracker Jackers. I'm the only one who can calm him down when he's in a state. He let me kill Katniss. The way he came running when he thought I might be outnumbered. Why he was so worried about me yesterday.

Perhaps when we get back to the district we can make something of it. We'll be victors. No one will be able to make us do anything we don't want to do. Those stupid marriage laws in District 2 won't matter. Wow. I'm seventeen and I'm thinking about marriage?

I straighten up, stretching my arms over my head, when I spot her walking towards us. "Cato." I say, not taking my eyes off her.

He recognizes my expression and he turns, picking up the sword, and jumping to his feet. I grab two knives from my jacket and stand next to him, ready. Moira continues to walk toward us, seemingly undaunted by the two killers right in front of her. Her red hair seems dull and her amber eyes are tinged with pink, possibly from crying. But no tears fall now. She's holding something in one of her hands by her side, but no visible weapons. She stops a precarious twenty feet away from us and we stare at each other.

Moira smiles at us. It's so out of place that I raise my eyebrows. She has to know that she is about to die. Why is she smiling? Moira raises her hand, holding it out in front so we can see what she's got. Her smile grows wider. Triumphant.

Berries. Six small round berries, as dark as night. I gasp, recognizing them just as she brings her hand to her mouth. She winks once and she tosses the nightlock in, chewing quickly and determinedly, still smiling at us. My arms fall from their throwing position as I watch the girl swallow her death. Her body seizes up, then, and she coughs. Her smile turns to a grimace as she collapses. Cato and I stand there, staring at her, as she convulses once, and then twitches and shudders for a few more moments, then she goes still. Moira's cannon fires.

I can't believe she just did that. Her way of defying the Capitol, I think. Denying them the final bloody fight they want.

Then it hits me. "We won."

I stare at Cato. He stares back.

"We won." I repeat, a smile breaking over my face. Then I start to laugh and he's grinning from ear to ear. I hold my hand up and he smacks his against it. His fingers tangle up with mine before he leans forward and kisses me full on the mouth. I decide to let him have that one. He's a good kisser.

We move away from Moira so the craft can come and take her. My face hurts from smiling so hard, but I don't care. I won. I won. Catowon. We won. We're the first joint victors ever in the history of the Hunger Games. We knew that little switch was for Katniss and Peeta, but if we can take advantage of it, why not? I'm still smiling when a mockingjay cries out a warning and the hovercraft comes and scoops up Moira's emaciated body.

Now the trumpets will start and they will declare us victors. Now we will go home.

But nothing happens. The seconds drag by and I feel my smile fading. Cato pulls me to him so that I'm leaning against him. Something's wrong. We won. Our last opponent was Moira. She just died. There was no one else left. There couldn't have been. I wrack my brain to make sure there wasn't one we missed. No, no they're all dead. It's just District 2 left.

I look up and exchange a nervous glance with Cato.

"Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games." The voice of Claudius Templesmith booms through the arena without warning. I look at Cato again and then up at the sky. Now what?

"The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."

A burst of static and then silence.

It was a trick. All along. A trick. This was intended for Katniss and Peeta. Were they here now…the Capitol would be about to witness a horrible showdown between two lovers. I stare at Cato. The realization hits Cato just after and his eyes fill with remorse and sadness. He tightens his grip on the hilt of his sword and on me. I hold my knife tighter. I don't want to kill Cato. I want to go home with him. I want him to kiss me again. I don't want this.

I stare at Cato. He stares back.

I'm not going to continue it. I'm not going to tell you what happens after. No begging, Kassie ^_~

Review, please :)

I hope I win!