Disclaimer before I forget for the entire story: I never have owned the Hunger Games and I look nothing like SC.


"Has the mighty truly fallen so far as to lead us here?" I question him with a quirked eyebrow as he stands, hesitating at what well could be the gates of hell. It certainly feels like it as the heat seeps into me from seemingly nowhere and yet from everywhere in this dry scorching place.

"Of course not." He rolls his eyes at me, and ignores our companions as well as me as he looks out on the landscape which is to be the crime scene of everyone except one, namely me. Because like hell am I going to be the one dying in this place, that's for sure. I volunteered, but not to die. Not in here anyway.

"Really? So your big plan is to wait here? Good one." One of our allies adds, sarcasm dripping from his tone. In truth I'm not entirely sure why he would lead us here for this big plan he has to kill off tributes because why would they come here? No, it must be something else. Come on, think. Think like him. Why would he bring our alliance here of all places in this arena?

And then…I believe I'm formulating why. I can reason like him, I can tell how his mind works. After all, I've been around him long enough, and his motives have always been the same; Brute force and pain. Win. It's stupid, but he's dumb enough not to realize that I have brains on my side even though I've always done better than him in school.

He thinks that I only have one thing to think about. He thinks it makes me weak, and maybe in a way it does. It's not a conventional motive for people like us, but I don't think it makes me weak in the way he thinks. In fact, I believe it only makes me stronger. I have people to get back to back in the District and someone else much closer, someone just as important if not more than them. I have a drive that will give me the extra push to win even if he happens to be the only one aware of it in this arena.

"Silly boy, why else would you bring us to this place of burning agony?" I chuckle darkly under my breath, loud enough for the group to hear me who all watch me in half interest and half…not quite afraid, but definitely wary. With good reason surely, but I guess this isn't the time to clue them in. Breaking the alliance now is as good a time as any, and I don't plan on being part of the death toll this evening like most of this group will be.

"Why indeed?" he smiles at me like he wants everyone to think I'm in on his plan, but I can see it in his eyes. He's pissed as ever and the rage is about to explode, I can feel it. I sense some smart ally backing slowly out of the group, but I'll let it slide for now; if they're wise enough to know when to run then they probably have earned the right to live a few more days.

And I'm about to answer when a parachute floats down about twenty yards away, stealing everyone's attention from the cryptic and yet obvious intentions of this conversation in this forsaken desert. The group stares at the innocent silver bundle for a moment before gliding over together to see what we have acquired, but every sense and nerve in my body are telling me to run. That this is not safe for me, and I already know his objectives. And so I walk over with the rest and silently take a few steps backwards when the group is occupied, making a run for it for the nearest cover, a bush line that we emerged from not five minutes ago to watch what happens next.

And like I predicted, all hell breaks loose in this almost literal hell, a poetry scripted by the slightly demonic brute himself probably as soon as we discovered the area. He was never the cleverest boy, but he always knew how to put on a good show; the Capitolites would be getting a kick out of this.

A silver parachute floats softly to the ground

A weapon and a symbol to break what must be broken

Grunts and cries of pain in the scorching heat

Making blood flow sickening and hot as it passes on sweaty skin and sands

The instigator terrorizing and shedding the most blood by his own hands

Deaths of three on his shoulders eventually

But the whole time he's outraged, looking around

For me. The one he truly wanted to destroy.

And so while he is occupied severing any ties we had left to each other, I slip away from the death and fires of hell to watch, wait, and kill when necessary, almost hoping that we are the last to live. Because it would be an honor to kill the brute myself, the one who has caused me so much anger and pain himself for all these years. But how could he know of this grudge? I'm just a girl who volunteered for the Hunger Games, right? For her sister.

Wrong. I'm his worst nightmare.