Auriella

Rain, blinding rain. The Cornucopia glistened a few yards off, slick from all the rain. I looked to my left, trying to make out something, anything. My pedestal raised me to its full potential and I staggered slightly at the abrupt stop. My hair was plastered down within seconds, my stylist assuring me it was a good idea to leave it down (Makes for more dramatic kills, dear.). It was braided in strips on random points throughout my scalp, it was all about looking the best on the screen, I suppose.

I tried not to move as the rain made the pedestal increasingly slippery. I shielded my eyes from the rain, trying to make out the countdown through the downpour. My anxiety already through the roof, the rain was definitely not making it any better. When should I step off? Will there be some sort of noise to let me know? Seventeen years of watching the Games and I couldn't recall what happened when the countdown finished. The Tributes ran one way or another, but was there a noise? I was beginning to panic again. Run to the woods, that's the plan-

There was a loud eruption of flame. The boom hit me a few seconds later, hitting me square in the chest. I was shocked, but I managed to hold my balance. The surrounding area was lit for a few shining moments. There were prizes littered all around, blades stuck into the grass and packs lining the grass. The grass, though, got thicker the closer it was to the Cornucopia, becoming tall and thick before its mouth.

The fire died to a small glow around one of the pedestals. Oh God someone must have slipped.I'd never seen anything quite like it before, and if it wouldn't have caused someone's death, I would have called it beautiful. Smoke wafted into the air, and although the tribute was certainly dead, the cannon was withheld, waiting for after the blood bath.

I could see the countdown clearer, the rain thinning out. The Gamemakers had done their job in making an impression, but through the rain it would be hard to see the kills and that would make for bad publicity. It's all for the viewers, I reminded myself.

Fifteen seconds left. The rain was almost gone and I could make out some things in front of me. A knife, a large one at that. I had handled fish fillet knives back at home, but nothing quite as thick. But things here aren't made for fish.

Ten seconds. As Tributes, we're all forced to watch our competitor's interviews. Not just to please our trainers, but to see the competition. This year, it's completely divided. The Tributes are either weak or strong. I looked at the knife again. It was maybe three meters away, well within reach. I could pick a few of them off, make the odds easier…

Five seconds. My stomach got uneasy at the thought of killing. But the knife was right there… The smoke from the fire had all but stopped, all that was left was a slightly crisp smell.

Zero. I launched myself off the pedestal and grasped the knife in my hand, running straight towards the other Tributes.