A/N: Hi guys, I hope you guys like this chapter. I know it's pretty short (as are all the chapters so far). I think they may get a little longer once we get into the Capitol and/or arena. I have so many ideas about the Games, you don't even know.

CHAPTER THREE – A BLOODTHIRSTY CAREER

Julius Spillers

This is it, man. This is it. I've always been planning to volunteer in the Quarter Quell. What could be cooler than being a Quell Victor? Victor among Victors, man. Best of the best. And now that I know the twist, I'm even more pumped. Gonna be a bunch of children and old gimps in the arena. Ain't nobody that can beat me!

I swing my sword around so hard that it whistles, completely severing the dummy's head. Take that, District 5! I launch a spear that impales the heart of another dummy. You're dead, District 10! I shoot an arrow straight into—oh. Well, it hit his arm and I bet he bleeds to death. So there, District 1! With all my enemies dead I throw my hands in the air and do a Victory Lap around the training center. This is gonna be the best. No one can beat me! VICTORY!

After my sixth lap (gotta get that workout in, even when you're celebrating), I jog out the door and down to the town square. This is where it's all going down, man. Normally it's just us kids in the square, but this year's different, man. We got every citizen on call for the reapings. It could be anyone. Except, of course, that it's gonna be me. That's why no one's really worried. This is District 2. We don't weep or wail. We volunteer. We win. My mom, my grandma, they don't have to worry. Even if they're reaped, it won't be them. It'll be some hardbody hottie ready to kill.

Our escort, Ridiculous Kumquat (okay, I don't think that's really her name but I swear that's what she said), finishes giving out the rules to the Quarter Quell—blah blah, any age, blah blah guardian, blah who cares blah—and reaches in to the girls' bowl. "Abigail Smith!" She trills. A girl from the 16s' section jogs up to the platform. She's already waving off offers to volunteer. "I'll do it," she says. She sounds a little annoyed, but calm. She's a tall girl, with brown hair. Looks fit. Looks trained. Looks like a worthy opponent.

I'm already getting ready to charge. I need to be up there. If I can't win the race to volunteer, how can I win the Games? Ridiculous Kumquat is shoving her hand into the boys' ball, making a big show of really feeling around, swirling the little tribute papers. Just call the damn name already! I want to yell at her, but instead I just crouch lower. "Gregory Allman!" she calls, and I'm already charging up there. I headbutt some unsuspecting 14 year old out of the way. I get up to the platform only to see that there's already someone there! It's that jerkwad Blake Bosco. He is not taking this from me. He's climbing onto the platform, but I grab the back of his shirt, and yank him back into the square. He looks ready to fight, so I go ahead and deck him in the nose, just to keep him quiet. I leap onto the platform, telling Ridiculous Kumquat, "Julius Spieler. District Two tribute." This is it, man. I did it. This is it.