Sorry for the slow updates lately! And thanks for all the supporting comments, it's the best feeling to read them and know everybody likes the story! Once this (The first Games Chapter) is out, I'll elaborate a lot more on every character. But this is the best part. Haha (Insert smiley face here). (And if I ever miss a tribute when I feature everybody, let me know. Or mistakes, spelling, characterization, it'll just make it all the better!) Thanks!
Each of the tributes were stationed with their mentor in a small bunker under the arena. Of the 24 people, they'd been flown in on separate helicopters, simultaneously, and lowered underground. Twenty four hearts were beating, and twenty four palms were sweating. Twenty three tributes would face certain death within the course of up to a month. Only one would make it out alive. The survivor would be crowned the ultimate fighter. The victor, and have a house for their family and fortune for their district. Every tribute wanted to win. Because losing meant dying and shame on their families.
Each tribute was handed a pair of specially tailored, skin tight pants with an outer rubber coating that prevented the entrance of water. The same waterproof material covered a knee length coat. Under the coat was a cotton v neck, long sleeve, skin tight garment. Each tribute also wore boy short underwear. The females had a built in sports bra.
Beneath the shoes was a pair of the ever classic white cotton socks. And as for shoes. They appeared quite common like a simple tennis shoe with again, the same waterproof coating and blue shimmer the same as the rest of the outfit. They were built for running and climbing - something the game makers and tributes each expected to do.
Everything on the tributes was custom made - their hair was done up for either style or comfort and convenience.
Everyone knew it; This was it. All decisions were final now, as there was no backing out of a failed plan. Any mistakes and any hesitations would mean death.
A certain tribute - Maya - was sitting in her bunker, worried but planning to keep a game face. With the high definition cameras, any signs of worry would be picked up and spotted in a heartbeat. That would definitely limit the sponsors.
She reached for one of the many glasses of water stationed on the counter. She looked at her mentor and tried to force a smile. "I'm worried. But, I have a plan. And a question from you?"
"Yes?" He asked, knowing this may be the last time he talked to her.
"If I die, tell my parents the capitol has always been wrong."
His eyes widened and he tried to cover her mouth, but it was too late.
She stepped onto the platform, along with the other tributes.
And the plates began to raise.
*.*.*
Forty eight eyes began to take in the arena.
At first glance, it appeared like a normal landscape. But another look, more in depth, and one would realize it was just an illusion of the Games.
In front of the tributes was a heavily packed, dense forest. To their back was an ever expanding stretch of hills, coated in a flowing green prairie. There was a very distinct line between them, as if the entire arena was divided in two, as it was.
"10, 9, 8, 7," a voice boomed over an invisible speaker.
Sharp breaths were drawn. Where they stood was more or less an acre of heavy dirt. And the Cornucopia. A large golden horn that was packed with the necessities to survive. This year seemed to lack materials.
"6, 5,"
Lettie looked up and realized Misson was staring at her. Her face turned grave and she motioned with a stiff finger and a mean glare for him to wander in the opposite direction as her.
He looked down. She'd just given away her whereabouts. But she'd be extra guarded until he was dead. Maybe she'd be the one to kill him.
"4, 3, 2,"
The gong sounded with the final three seconds. On the third ring, they could leave. On the third ring, the Hunger Games began.
"One." Brinngg.
And the tributes were off.
Adonia was stationed closest to Aqua and Ben. The three began to run together. Adonia, knowing her strengths, picked up a sword. How lucky, she thought, that the weapon she was most talented with was now in her hands. Of course, many of them were of talents with it. But she needed to focus. With five attempts with it, she slashed two other opponents. They were smaller males that fell to the ground immediately.
A huge, bulging with muscle man was running straight for the supplies, along with a similar partner of strength - right where Adonia, Aqua, and Ben stood. He was from district four - a Career that failed to be included, and his friend was from seven.
"Here!" Ben yelled to her over the roar of feet. He was great with a sword as well, but she didn't give a damn.
"Not a chance!" She laughed, as she attempted to slash at the biggest one.
Aqua was a quick thinker and ducked out of the way, sprinting for the trident. She'd learned to excel with a sword and a trident - something had had apparently come in handy. She scooped it up and threw it with all her might. To her dismay, he dodged the weapon.
"Ah!" She shrieked, running to Dray, Maya, Claire and Richie for support.
Maya had ripped open a backpack where bow and arrows were hiding. "Yes!" She shouted, and launched one into the larger guy's back. He yelled, but it just propelled his fury.
Kat, Kanina, Scarlette, and Gretelda were all right inside the woods line, out of view but still vulnerable. They were speaking in hushed, quick tones.
"Into the woods," They agreed.
"We have no supplies! We wont make it without some. Someone has to go back," Kanina was crying a tear of fear.
"I'll do it," Kat stepped up.
"I'll come with you," Gretelda took her arm.
"No wait!" Scarlette shouted. "I'm the oldest-"
"We don't have time for this!" Kat screeched at her.
"If we wait any longer, the Careers will take possession of all the supplies. This is our only chance, while they're distracted. Got it?" Gretelda was yelling at Scarlette.
She nodded and shoved them. "Be careful!"
Was it the right decision? The four failed to possess any weapons, food, or supplies. Who knew what the temperatures and weather had to hold, or the abundance of possible food. They had to go.
Gretelda was a master at hand to hand combat, and Kat was nifty with any heavy, blunt object. The two of them planned to take out anybody in their way, Career or not.
The two sprinted for a large sleeping bag. Only ten yards away was another one. They manage to pick the two up, and continue deeper into the cornucopia.
Scattered by the woods were a few grey rocks. Kat took her chances by lunging for one. She ran with it and picked up speed, heading for the heart of the madness. She saw a whole backpack, probably filled with food and assorted materials. She suddenly had to have it. But the smaller of two huge guys stood in her way. Kat didn't care.
She ran at full speed, throwing the other sleeping bag at Gretelda and motioning for her to run back to the woods.
Kat sprinted for the man, and in a quick and skilled maneuver she planted her feet, swung her arms around her torso and hit the back smack dab in the middle of the back of his skull. He toppled over immediately, dropping the foot long serrated knife he was carrying. Grinning, Kat picked up the knife, the backpack in front of him, and some string she hadn't noticed all the while she stumbled to her knees to collect the things, Aqua was nearest her, and she lunged with the trident.
Gretelda saw it coming. She ran and tackled Aqua, throwing the trident out of her hands.
Aqua begged with her eyes, no, as Gretelda pinned her.
Gretelda wanted to kill her, but she didn't need any enemies. She started to play a little mind game she'd learned back home. On her little sister Olive - when Olive was being an outrageous brat - Gretelda would pin her and whisper a threat that she never planned on executing. Right now, it appeared that's exactly what she was doing. Gretelda might lose sponsors, but the Capitol's people would eat up the drama like it was served on a silver platter. "To kill, or not to kill?" Gretelda maniacally laughed.
"No, no please," Aqua cried, the tears disappearing off the back of her head against the hard packed earth.
Picking up the trident, Gretelda held it over Aqua's heart. She knew she'd have to make the drama short and sweet - someone on Aqua's side was bound to notice soon.
Gretelda looked at the strap Aqua had over her shoulder - filled with goodies of all sorts most likely. "Give the bag," she commanded. She felt her inner bitterness creeping out.
Aqua yanked at the strap, shaking, and trying not to make any sudden movements - or her heart would be pierced.
"You owe me," Gretelda hissed.
Aqua threw it at her, in which Gretelda yanked it out of her hands and ran with the trident, circling the woods to her posse waiting in the woods and noticed Kat had already returned.
Meanwhile, after the gong had sounded, Leah scanned the area for Mollie, but she had escaped with some fabric and a knife, and one other thing that she truly hoped for - poisoned darts.
Her and Blake were running through the thinner woods, planning to camp out a few miles from the Cornucopia so that they could steal any supplies as necessary for survival.
Leah was confused, then outraged as she saw the two disappear. Her small frame and fury propelled her to collect three separate knifes and a heavy duty blanket.
"MOLLIE!" She bellowed, making a pact to herself to kill the betraying devil. Leah followed the path they'd taken flight to, hoping for a fight to the bloody death.
Cormac and Sissy wanted to gather supplies, but appeared to come up empty handed. They'd escaped into thicker woods with occasional clearings. They ran for most of the afternoon, utterly exhausted.
"Cormac, wait, here!" She was breathing heavily. She'd been forced into labor five days before, and she hadn't fully recovered.
He turned and sat her down. "We should rest."
"I grabbed this," she held out a small bottle of water that she'd tucked in her sleeve. When she held it, he realized her arm was bleeding.
"What happened?" He asked, worriedly.
"I lunged for it. And someone got to me with a knife. I'm sorry, I knew it would slow us down," she started to cry.
"Don't cry. Here," he ripped off a portion of her jacket, and wrapped the wound.
They each took a drink of the bottle. "We've made it this far. We're in a thicket, and no one came in this direction. Let's settle down for the night, alright?"
"Do we have to go back?" she asked.
"I don't think we should. I have a plan for food," he slipped off his jacket, and tore off the bottom section.
"What was that for?"
"Tonight, I'll separate the fibers, and make it into rope. I'll set a little trap, and maybe we'll catch something," he smiled.
She lied down. "Can we sleep in shifts?"
"Yeah. Get some rest," he told her.
*.*.*
Six boys had died in the blood bath. Eighteen had survived.
*.*.*
Lettie ran to the woods. She doubted anybody had gone into the hills, it would be purely stupid. So she was extra guarded. She'd managed to collect a backpack, filled with a little tin cup, a pocket knife, and some canned vegetables.
The tin cup was perfect. A skill she'd mastered through the years was taking apart metal objects, and creating weapons. One thing she learned, was how to create a sort of gun. It could shoot long distances, little sharp pierces scraps of metal. But for that, she would need a few more metallic objects. She made a plan to look for tributes in the night, and steal as much as she could.
*.*.*
Misson saw Lettie's signal. But he didn't want to head for the hills. Honestly, who would? The Gamemakers probably realized that nobody did. Wait, he thought. People there are scientists. Smartest of our generation - and they'd know everyone would want cover and the possibility of food and water. In the woods. So wouldn't that mean the opposite would be waiting?…
He had a sudden hunch. So intense. And Lettie would expect he'd follow her. It was perfect. He had to escape to the hills.
He had managed to collect a briefcase and a sleeping bag - what an odd thing, a briefcase in the arena.
He'd stopped to look at it when the Cornucopia had disappeared from sight, and was pretty amazed. It held an array of knives - quite fancy in the felt that contained them - and at the side was a large box of crackers. A few a day and he would lose weight, but would at least feel relatively full compared to those with nothing. Besides, he needed to survey the area. If this gut feeling of his held true, then there had to be something here. Something…important.
He kept walking, trying to make as much time in the daylight as possible. It was hill after rolling green plush hill. No trees, no vegetation - beside the tall grasses - no nothing. For miles. But he had to keep pushing on.
One time, when he was young, his Dad would tell him stories about the way things used to be in North America. Three main countries - Canada, Mexico, and the place their grandparents lived once - the U.S. When his father visited, he'd traveled to every state, utterly amused by the environment and the different climates. The southern part, such as Florida, in December - the U.S.'s winter, was purely heat, mid 80's. But when he traveled north to Wisconsin, it appeared like the entire world was covered in a thick layer of white snow.
His Dad - Faraday - had told him that he fell in love with the snow, and with the hills. Along the entire length of the northern Mid-West U.S. were hills after hills. The rolling hills of Wisconsin, he recalled. Faraday had loved them so much, he'd stayed for entire year, just to witness the changing of the seasons. But the hills never lost their glory. He'd take joyrides through the countryside and climb the tallest of the land masses in order to see as many hills as he could in one view. It was glorious, as his father described.
Right now, the hills Misson gazed upon appeared quite like the ones his Dad had described.
Misson was overcome with a sense of nostalgia. If he were to be anywhere at this moment - and believe him, that's all he wanted - he would go back to the land his father fell in love with fifty years ago.
But maybe he could imagine. Yes, he could see it. The good ol' days of society's past. The days in which humans did not fight one another to the death for some other person's sick entertainment.