Chapter Seven

"Clove, wake up. Time to go." Enobaria said, entering my room. Her voice didn't have the sharp edge it usually did, which automatically concerned me. I stood up and stretched, pulling on brown pants and a maroon t-shirt with sturdy leather boots. I tried swallowing but it felt dry, my chest hallow. This wasn't good.

I was not supposed to get nervous. I walked out the door to my room, and Enobaria promptly led me to the roof, keeping silent as we approached the hovercraft.

"Enobaria, I—" I started, but she grabbed my shoulders.

"I'll see you down in the launch room. Try to calm down." She said, turning on her heel and striding to a second hovercraft, one reserved for mentors or stylists, whomever was in charge of aiding tributes to launch. For whatever reason, Bastille was not going to be there with me. I gulped again and tipped my chin off, smirking as arrogantly as I could with a knot of nerves in my gut. The feigning of confidence helped soothe me, surprisingly. I settled down in my launch seat, the seventh one to get there. I watched people file in after me. Glimmer, Marvel, Cato, the girl from Five, Peeta, and Katniss last of all. She was assigned to the seat next to me, and I saw her glance over at me, and I forced myself to sneer at her. Her eyes dropped to my feet, which didn't quite touch the ground, before meeting my gaze. My smile dropped and I glared at her before looking away.

I held my arm up as the assistant came by, injecting the tracker into my arm, repressing a shudder as I watched the tiny cylinder flash a few centimeters beneath my skin.

"What's that?" Katniss demanded nervously as the woman turned to her. The woman paused for a moment, as if trying to decide what to think or say.

"Your tracker, for the arena." She said grimly. I heard slight pity in her voice, and suddenly wondered what it was like watching.

Watching strange kids die and murder every year. Or if you were a mentor, watching your kid get killed, or worse, snap and become deranged.

What about the parents? In a few minutes they'd watch me slaughter their child. What if my mother watched me get killed? I snarled and shook my head.

Yes, soon all of Panem would watch me murder these children, and I would survive to go home. These deaths would not affect me.

I would be the champion of these games. Not Katniss. Not Cato. Me.

The hovercraft shuddered up and sped away, taking us to the arena, and I took a deep breath, inhaling slowly.

I worked out my strategy—I knew I was fast, no doubt faster than most of the tributes. I would run to the cornucopia, grab as many knives as I can, as well as a longer blade for hand to hand, and battle out till the bloodbath was over. From there, Cato, Marvel, Glimmer, Peeta, Lucas, and I would regroup, then start hunting.

Before I knew it, we were dropped off in the catacombs beneath the arena. Enobaria met me off the ship and led me to my room. I felt a chill as I walked through the stone hallway, into a drab grey room. Enobaria handed me a jacket, a dark, brown-red. Like dried blood. I zipped it up and stared at Enobaria for a minute.

"You're nervous." She muttered, crossing her arms. I shrugged.

"You are, too." I retorted. She simply nodded.

"Well, it's never a guarantee you'll win. There are some ringers this year, watch yourself." She responded bluntly.

"I'll do my best. I'm ready, you know. I can do this." Enobaria put her hands on my shoulders and stared at me for a minute. She opened her mouth, about to speak, and then she pulled me into a hug.

"I believe in you, Clove. I know you can win. But don't be like me. Don't snap. Don't lose yourself." She said, her voice taught. It caught me off guard, hearing her sound anything other than harsh and brutal.

"Thirty seconds to launch." A voice sounded. I pulled away and smiled grimly at her.

"I don't know who I am. Being a merciless murderess is what I've grown up to be. Suppose that is who I am? If I lose that, then I'm dead."

"Fifteen seconds to launch." Enobaria shook her head at me, pushing me towards the launch tube.

"You're so much more than that." She murmured as I stood on the launch pad.

"Tributes launch." I closed my eyes and turned away from her as I rose up. The arena was large, ringed by trees, with a lake off to my right. Marvel was directly to my left, Cato on the opposite end of the semi-circle, Glimmer four people left of him, and Katniss three people right from me, Peeta two away from her. I was pretty close to the weapons. The countdown started from 50, each second sounded like a deep drum with an eerie metallic echo.

I took several deep breaths and crouched to run, bouncing slightly, anxiety and adrenaline pumping through me.

Ten

Nine

Eight

Seven

Six

Five

Four

Three

Two

One

I launched off the pad and sprinted towards the weapons and grabbed a weapon and turned to see a boy towering above Katniss, about to strike her with a sword.

She's mine. I thought bitterly, hurling the knife. It dug into his spine and he coughed blood on Katniss, who staggered back. I flung my knife at her but she jerked up her bag, and the knife stuck there. She scrambled to her feet, glancing at me as she ran.

Another time. She's quicker than I'd anticipated. I dropped to my knees, pulling a vest out of a bin. It was armored, and had slots for knives in it. I whipped my head up in time to see a girl jab a spear at me. I used Katniss' tactic and yanked the vest in front of my torso, ducking my head behind it. The spear head deflected off and I drove a knife into the girls throat, twisting it as she screamed, and sneering.

I slit another boys throat and got two more girls right in the heart with a knife before the bloodbath was over. My shirt and face and hands were drenched in blood of four of the five victims. I looked around searching anxiously for more people.

And that's when I realized…

I had snapped. Lost whatever innocent, lost girl may have been inside of me.

I was a monster

A/N: Thanks for reading! I appreciate feedback, it helps be improve my writing! Please check out my other stories. Thank you!