President Knox Vine POV:
50 Days Until The End
The elevator doors open to a flurry of activity. Every single insignificant person has a purpose today, from controlling the microphone to straightening my tie. Everything must be perfect today, because this is no ordinary Hunger Games. This is a Quarter Quell.
I was briefed this morning in a video left behind by our previous President, John Doe. Such an ordinary name for an extraordinary man- the genius behind the Hunger Games. The video explained everything about today and it's importance; not even the highest-ranking officials know of this twist. He left it behind specially, so that even in his death he could terrify the Districts. Only I know the contents of that special box; not even the Head Gamemaker knows.
These ordinaries think the only purpose of today is to announce a new addition to the Pre-Games: The Chariot Rides. This prolongs the Games, gives the Capitol audience more of a chance to see the tributes, and it keeps the horror fresh in the district people's minds. Perfect for our purpose- we can't afford another rebellion, not with Thirteen... I shudder. As long as they play dead for the Capitol, everything will be fine.
"Mr. President?" I break out of my reverie and look up at this simple man whose name I don't know. "You're on in T-minus thirty seconds." The Capitol people gather around me in panic at his words, brushing my already smooth hair, rolling lint-rollers across my already lint-free suit.
"I'm fine. Move away now," I say over the noise of the crowd, and they silence themselves immediately, hastily clearing a path for me. The perks of having the power to kill them in seconds.
I make my way over to the edge of the stage, right where the curtain ends. Some preppy lady with blue streaks in her hair and ridiculously high heels walks- or should I say attempts to walk?- across the stage, microphone in hand. The style of the Capitol people is becoming silly, but a happy people means a happy president. At least they're not dying their skin or getting whiskers... Not yet, anyway.
"Heeeelllllooooo ladies and gentlemen!" The woman says, beaming at the crowd. They go wild, whistling and yelling and clapping. "Today we tune in for a special announcement from the President himself. So without further ado, let's give it up for... President Vine!"
She steps back and applauds as I walk onto the stage, head held high. I don't react in any way to the audience; I must show that I am above them. "Welcome citizens of Panem, and Happy Hunger Games," I wait for the noise to die down before I continue. "This year we have a new addition to The Hunger Games," there is a moment of shocked silence before they go wild again; they love the Games. "We have added a segment called 'The Chariot Rides' in which all tributes will be dressed according to their District and pulled around an arena in a Chariot. This is a chance for you to see the tributes for the first time in Panem style." The people all talk amongst themselves excitedly. The fashion sense really is starting to get crazy: someone in the front row has dyed their whole head pink, and someone else is absolutely covered in tattoos and piercings.
"We have another announcement," I talk over the crowd, and they are all stunned into silence. They must be wondering about the second announcement. "Every twenty-five years there will be a special celebration to commemorate twenty-five years of Hunger Games, which will be called the Quarter Quell, in honor of our victory against the Rebels." You could hear a pin drop in the Capitol. Everyone, everywhere across the country is watching the announcement with baited breath. "The Quell will be announced immediately." I beckon for a small boy, dressed in a pure white suit, so come out. He carries an ornately decorated box carefully, as though afraid he might drop it. I remember the people back stage eyeing the box curiously, as though wondering what was inside. I open the lid and draw out an envelope marked 25.
"As a reminder to the Districts that their children are dying of their own choice, the tributes who enter the arena will be voted on," My eyes roam over the crowd, and I see the spark of understanding flash across the faces of the more intelligent. The pink-haired lady still looks confused. Not a shocker; all the dye must be getting to her head. "This means that instead of a Reaping, each District shall hold a vote, and the two children with the most votes will be sent to the arena. No volunteers."
There is a second of silence as they process this. Then, almost in unison, they stand and yell. It's a tidal wave of noise- it can probably be heard all the way across the Capitol. I smile at my people and step off the podium. They are still going wild when I get off the stage, and even the workers look excited. There is only one sour face in the crowd- my Head Gamemaker.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she complains. "I would have had an arena especially made for this! I mean, the arena is still good, of course, but not quite good enough for an anniversary celebration..." she trails off, looking worried.
"Well then I suggest that you get working on some mutts," I say, looking at her meaningfully. She nods and scurries away, calling her people after her.
Oh, the perks of being the President.
District Thirteen, President Urma Coin POV:
"We can't just let this happen, can we?' Prescott looks at me, outraged.
"We can, and we will," I say, uncaring.
"But, Madame President..." he trails off, clearly afraid to cross me.
"Those pitiful excuses of Districts need to build up their hatred of the Capitol before we can do anything. They are not ready yet." I look down at the young child crawling across my lap. "It will take years- way after my time and yours," I pat the girl's short brown hair lovingly.
"Years? But why- they were so eager to rebel thirty years ago!" Prescott whines.
"Because they fear. Fear is strong, even stronger than hope. They need someone to hope for, someone to lead them, and that won't happen for years," I explain it slowly, like I am talking to a child. "Now please, leave us be."
"Yes, ma'am," He stands up and salutes before leaving.
When he's gone, I pick up my daughter and sit her on my lap, facing me. "One day you will be president, Alma," I say solemnly. She looks up at me with her wide two-year-old gray eyes. I know she doesn't quite understand me yet, but one day, when I'm long gone, she will. "You will find the right person, start the rebellion, and, when all is over and done, you will take over the new country."
She smiles up at me, and I almost believe she has heard me. Then she pulls my hair and farts, giggling. I sigh and set her down.
She will be a great leader one day.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the opening for the 25th Hunger Games. If you are interested in being a part of it, PM me and let me know, and I'll send stuff over to you. This is going to be way better than my previous stories, but please note: I will not start this one until I finish one of my other two stories. I can't be writing three at once because that would confuse me, though I'll throw in a little teaser every now and then. Alert or favorite the story so you know when there is an update. I don't know if that was the exact wording for the Quell announcement, or what Coin's first name is, but it might be this. Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games! Just these characters. (Kind of.)
