My name is Amelia, but my friends call me Em. Well, that's what I'm assuming they could've called me before I died.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still alive… Just going to be dead soon. You see, I'm on a train with a boy named Alfred next to me, setting course for a contest in the Palace, the capital of our world. There are sixteen people enrolled in this contest, each from a different region of the world. Two people- a boy and girl between the ages of thirteen and nineteen- are chosen for each region. All of us are joined in an arena for a fight to the death on live TV. The contest is called "The Hetalia Games". There is only one winner. There are fifteen losers. That's basically way it works, we're going to kill each other until there's only one left standing, who then will be declared the winner.
… You thought I was kidding when I said I was going to die, didn't you?
All my life, I've lived with my mom in Region Eight- the last region and also considered lamest one of them all. I illegally trespass into the forests near my home to hunt as our region is known for starved people dying on the streets. Bows and arrows are my fetish and the reason why my mom and I are still alive. I sell the animals that I kill in the black market. A squirrel for a bar of soap. A rabbit for clothes. It all goes something like that. I hate to think I'm a criminal, really, but I do these things for my mom because without my hunting, we'd both be dead. After my dad died, she couldn't take care of me or herself, she was so torn apart after his death. I vowed to take care of her, since she did such a good job of helping me when I was a little girl. So I go into the woods every day, ducking under the barbed wire fence when my bows and arrows in hand. It's pretty scary and as far as I know, I'm the only one who does this in my region. However, the feel of freedom and wind on my cheeks when I run out into the woods has become somewhat of a drug to me and I can't stop doing it. Plus, I kind of have to survive, so I'll just keep my arrows nice and sharp.
Since I was a little girl, I had heard stories at school of heroes and freedom right before the "Revolution of Fate" that caused the world to split into nine –now eight- parts. I have dreamed about those days still, the good ones, where people helped one another, but if I open my mouth to share my opinion, I'd be killed. The "Revolution of Fate" as the Lawmakers have called it, was when everyone, and I mean, everyone wanted a better world and started to retaliate against their leaders. For a while, people were living well, doing what they wanted, finding better lives, but it didn't last long. Groups of people that were against the whole ordeal were killed. Then other groups started to disagree with that and it when on and on and on. Soon, the people we now call the "Lawmakers" rose up, with weapons like nuclear bombs, and forced us all into nine regions, each region specializing in a different job, such as farming or weapons. Region eight- my region- happens to be butchering stuff like cows. However, all of the meat we get goes to the Lawmakers and citizens in the Palace. Pretty much all of the regions are just the Lawmakers' slaves. Trust me, it sucks to see a burger pass right under my nose to some fat mayor in the Palace.
One year, after a mini revolt of the Hetalia Games from Region Nine, the Lawmakers decided to show off their control and wiped out all of the ninth region, keeping the rest of us in check in case we had any ideas like Region Nine. When I go under that fence to hunt every Sunday, I can smell the horrible odor of the nuclear energy still radiating from their doomed region. Although a very primitive plan, it's super effective and there has never been a word said by the other regions.
The Hetalia Games were back on the air after Region Nine's collapse. Everyone- no matter the gender, race, language, or culture- has to watch it. The Lawmakers install a chip into our TV's to track what we're watching at all times. And there's only one channel I flip to during the one time of the year. Each time, it gets harder and harder to watch people freezing, bleeding, and sometimes even being blown up. These horrible games have been going on for at least two hundred years.
To enter the Hetalia Games isn't optional. Stupid, right? Each child- starting at the age of thirteen- must enter their name into a giant tub until they're nineteen. The Lawmakers in our region encourage us to put our name in more than once. No one has ever done it. And for good reason too. The games are horrible, pitting everyone against each other, one person killing another they've never known the name of.
You're probably wondering how I got chosen.
Just this morning, I was hunting in the woods and got a rabbit right in the stomach. Then, at high noon, the Lawmakers in our region started announcing people to come to the town square to choose this years tributes. They put all of our names in a small tub, one for boys, one for girls, and choose a person, wearing a cheesy grin the entire time. I'm known in my town for smiling a lot, but every single time I stand in front of that tub with one parchment signed Amelia, I can't help but feel like I'm going to cry. I never thought I would be picked, no one does.
And I wasn't.
They called out a thirteen year old girl's name. A small, scrawny thirteen year old whose name I didn't know until they called out "Jane". She didn't go up on the stage when she was called, Jane was in too much shock from looking to the Lawmakers to her sobbing mother and father. It tore my heart out and before I realized what I was doing, I had volunteered to take her place.
No one has ever volunteered to participate in the Hetalia games. It's basically suicide when you're coming from Region Eight, but the look on that small girl's face, the fact she still needed to live a couple more years of life, that I had already received, was enough to make me change my mind. Citizens and Lawmakers alike were looking at me in shock and I could feel a tug on my sleeve by my mother, who looked pleadingly at me. I turned away from her. No going back now. I admit that I was shaking when I went up to the stage.
One Lawmaker laughed. "What is this? A volunteer! Splendid, splendid! Young lady, what's your name?"
"Amelia," I choked out. He gave another hardy laugh. I was ready to punch him.
Then they called Alfred's name. No one volunteered for him. He walked briskly to the stage with his chin held up high. He had looked so brave and looked at his parents, giving them a shaky thumbs-up. They started crying more.
You know, it would've been funny if Alfred or I weren't going to die. Or both of us.
They put Alfred and I on a train set for the Palace, giving us little time to say goodbye to our friends and family. When I had gotten to my mother, she gave me the biggest hug I've ever had and whispered in my ear, "Promise me you'll fight. Promise me you won't ever give up."
I nod. The thought of giving up was there right when I was on the stage. But a pained shock went through me as I realized that whatever happens to me, my mom is going to see on the television. She wants to see me be strong. I've always been a rebel in my region, but I feel like this is my limit.
So here I am, sitting in the compartment of a train sprinkled with little pastries as welcoming gifts into the Palace, where the games take place. The seats are a deep purple, symbolizing the power of the Lawmakers and are lined with lace made of indestructible gold that Region Two created. It's amazing to me, as I had grown up in poverty, but I'd much rather be at home, starving to death, instead of waiting for someone to come and stab me in the back of the head. And that would be the luckiest death of them all. The sole purpose of the Hetalia Games is to be gory and brutal, something people can never forget.
"Hey, are you listening to me?"
I wake up from my thoughts, the horrifying thoughts that make my spine quake in fear as a few tears spring out of my eyes. I'm not crying though, I can't show weakness in front of Region Eight's boy tribute, he can't know he can easily kill me. Not that I would be.
"Are you okay?" he asks me. I take a closer look at this boy. He has dirty blonde hair swooping over his left eye and a weird strand is standing up on his head. His blue eyes are bespectacled- Bespectacled, since when did I start talking all-smart? I mean, he was wearing glasses and you could see a couple of light freckles. Nothing out of the ordinary, he's skinny, of course from starvation, but the thing I can't get out of my head is the fact that he's smiling.
This kid must not know what the Hetalia Games even are. At some point in this contest, either he kills someone, or he gets killed. But, being the awesome person I am, I give a horribly pathetic smile back.
"I'm fine" I mean to say, but it comes out as a hollow noise that sounds like a dying animal. I gasp and cover my mouth, red with embarrassment. He laughs.
"Haha, Amelia, you sounded like that one cow I accidently kicked when I was four!" Alfred laughed. We got to know each other at Region Eight's ceremony, every region has one for its tributes. But it didn't work, the only thing I've learned is this boy's name. Oh, and the fact he's fourteen, while I'm sixteen.
He sighs and rubs his glasses. "But… I-I know how you feel. I mean, I don't… I don't want to…You know…" He looks embarrassingly at me, paling at the thought.
I smooth out my shirt. "I-It's okay," I say softly, my sapphire eyes staring at the floor. "I don't want to either."
"No one does."
The train lurches to a stop and the Leader's voice booms through the walls. We never have heard of his name for the Lawmaker's are in fear for the man's safety. Or just to keep us out of their picture.
"District Eight- Welcome to the Palace. Good luck in the games and may the best man win!"
And may the best man win. They say this every year, every chance the Lawmakers get, they say this to make it look like the Hetalia games are just a chess game, someone you want your four year old to watch. It sickens me to the stomach.
Day one at the Palace means opening ceremonies take place, I would know after a lifetime of watching this. I'm still terrified as I exit the train, leaving my home and good memories probably forever. The thought of my mother comes to me and tears come with it. I can't stop them as I start to sob and Alfred gives me a worried look. I don't care anymore, what chance do I have? Region eight has never won a Hetalia game, we are never trained to do so like some other regions. I'm a strong-willed girl, I got that from my dad as people have told me, but standing in the face of death like this- from a sickened game on TV, not a bear in the woods- has never happened to me. It makes me feel pathetic.
To my surprise, Alfred puts his hand in mine and gives me a sad smile, ceasing my tears for the time being. Strange, he shows no signs of fear, he must think he can win these games.
I need to be as strong as him.
I wipe my tears away, give his hand a squeeze, and walk into the Palace, head held up high and a wry smile on my face. This boy Alfred might actually be my ally in these games. Since my name had been called, since I weakly crawled up to the stage where I would be congratulated for getting into the games, since a tearful goodbye with my mother, I finally felt optimistic.
It was all gone as a blinding light flashed into my eyes once the doors closed behind me. I realized that I had just walked into the opening ceremonies. The Lawmakers never tell when or where they are, since they want to see the real competitors, not fake smiles or false bravery. The Palace and it' people want to see real people and real fighting.
"Oh, my God," I mouth as I stand there. Alfred does the same, eyes wide as saucepans.
The announcer is screaming into his microphone along with the thousands of spectators in this huge room- the first room in the Palace. I am bewildered by its hugeness, it's richness, and its upbeat intensity. My eyes lower the massive stage before us and I see all of the other tributes from Regions One through Six sitting in thrones fit for kings. None of them are smiling, which isn't a rare occurrence. Region Seven's tributes are walking down the long aisle from the door to the stage, their names being announced. I can't help but notice the boy and girl from Region Seven are as far apart as they can be, walking stiffly. They sit down and I see their faces, pale as ever. They are as shocked as Alfred and I.
"And last, but not least-" There are snorts and stifles of laughter from the crowd as they know Region Eight completely sucks at these games. "-Region Eight, containing the tributes Amelia and Alfred. Let's hear it for District Eight!"
Only a few people clap for Region Eight each year, as I have watched the opening ceremonies countless times. But this year, the crowd stares bug eyed at us and then gets on their feet, cheering wildly.
I wonder why this is. Then, I realize Alfred and I are still holding hands. Every tribute must have been divided from their partner and we must be the only ones who look like a team. I smile. There was a reason why they said I made life look easy and like a party.
I blow a kiss to people and they go crazy. I've seen these games. When a region is favored, they usually have the best chance of surviving. Alfred gapes at me and shakily waves, drawing another wave of screams. We walk down the aisle, hand in hand, looking like a couple instead of people aimed to kill each other.
I sit on chair marked "Region Eight" and take in the atmosphere. I wonder for a couple of seconds of how they could make such a gigantic room. But then again, these games are huge and people want an amazing show in an amazing environment. However, I sink in my chair, frowning like the other tributes, knowing the ultimate ending for fifteen of us.
The play the national anthem and then start the traditional welcome for the games. I tried to listen for anything important, but I'm too lost in thoughts. My entire body is stiff as I mentally slap myself for helping out the Lawmakers create more fun for the audience. I was blowing kisses and influenced Alfred to wave. That is sheer injustice, why did I just do that? I could have revolted, showed them a heroine's way. But then… there's one of me and about two thousand of them. They would either shoot me or shoot me and nuke Region Eight. The thought of revolution makes me even more afraid. That, and the fact that my mom is watching me on TV probably weeping her eyes out is enough to make me nearly vomit. I'm helpless as I fight to realize what's the best thing to do. Try to look sad and depressed (as if I'm already not) and act against these games or smile and wave so I can be a fan favorite, making the Lawmakers want to target the others? And what of Alfred? No, I can't think about him, if I start getting attached to him, killing him would be impossible. I can only think of myself.
I'm somewhat happy to see that the announcer is closing things up. I can't stand sitting here in front of the TVs anymore.
"Thank you, to all citizens for supporting the Hetalia Games!"
Yeah, you force us to watch this sick stuff.
"We'll certainly give you all a show this year!"
Please don't. Please, please, please don't. I don't want my mother to see me ripped to pieces.
"And may the best man win!"
I pray that's me. I pray with all of my heart, but I know from experience that sometimes, the answer of prayers are "No".
And that's it. Security guards lead us to our rooms where we'll be staying for the next week. Each tribute gets to train for six days to either show off or lay low so no one suspects you're a threat. Both tactics are very efficient. I walk with Alfred silently into Region Eight's hallway, too tired and hateful to take in the beautiful palace. Our security guard stops at Alfred's door and the boy nods at me, giving me a huge grin and disappearing into his room. I keep walking.
The security guard stops in front of a door and nods at me. I don't make a sound as I enter the room, the door slamming behind me. At first, the noise startles me and I thought someone might be breaking in, but I then realize it was I who hacked away at the door and made such a sound. I must have scared the man away. Good, I hate the Palace's people for bringing us so much pain. I turn to see my room.
My jaw drops. Never before have I seen something so beautiful. A glass chandelier hangs above my head, the lights bouncing from glass candle to glass candle. I stagger to the closet and throw its doors open and to my disappointment, I see nothing in it. I really wish I had some silk PJ's as silk was the best thing I've ever touched-
To my shock and delight, a red nightgown- softer to touch than silk- appeared in the middle of the closet. I quickly put it on, enjoying the sudden warmth. I had an idea.
"Hot chocolate" I said without thinking. The only time I ever had it was when I was eight years old, when my dad brought it home.
A steaming cup of the requested drink formed on my dresser and I ran to that corner of the room, quickly draining it of all contents. It was then I noticed the huge bed, covers and pillow made of satin, and mattress feeling light as air. It wasn't long before I snuggled into bed, blissfully and dreaming.
My mother was in my dream. And my father. They were happy, dancing with each other and I was laughing along with them. Then, they looked at me in horror and quickly evaporated out of thin air. In their place, I saw Alfred and the other tributes I had seen earlier today, all poised with knives and guns. I tried to run, but one tribute- I couldn't tell whom- pulled my hair back and I caught the sight of Alfred slitting my throat with a knife. The blood came gushing out of my neck as I screamed in agony. They took turns cutting my veins, slashing at my limbs, and at that moment, I wanted to die. I wanted the suffering to end, and they finally started to cut through my heart-
I woke up in a haste, hyperventilating, as I realized the blood- my blood- that I had seen on the floor wasn't there anymore.
It was after that dream that I realized exactly next week, I will be a contestant in the Hetalia Games and the tributes, including sweet, happy-go-lucky Alfred, all have the same intent that they had in my dream. I didn't get any more sleep.
Ya'll are gonna hate me for this fic. I'm serious, you will want to rip my guts out. Well, you can't, haha!
Anyway, more than ten characters will die here. Like as in, they will be murdered by each other.
I'm trying to use the official genderbend names, but I have no idea what they are or where to find them. Could someone help me?
The story is based on "The Hunger Games" by Suzanne Collins and is really one of the best books I've ever read. Which isn't saying much because this is the first book I've read in my free time for the first time in about four years, but it's so addicting. This idea's been swarming in my head now because I didn't like the ending of the Hunger Games, so I thought, well why can't I Hetalify it? I know, I'm a sick person.
So the eight main characters and their genderbent versions are in here. I'm trying to make it as in character as possible, but it's hard because the topic and tone is so dark. I really can't wait to do this because it'll keep me on edge at all times.
Amelia (fem!US) is going to be the main character just because, but you'll see everyone come in.
There's only two noted couples that will be metioned and no, I'm not taking couple requests. Because it would mess up the story so there. (;
Peace out! :D
~S*L~