Chapter 10
*Butterflies and Hurricanes*
The cornucopia blazed in the sunlight, temporarily blinding us all. We had entered the arena through a grass-tangled expanse of plains, the cornucopia was about fifty yards from us. As though compelled, all of us tributes couldn't help but to take quick snapping turns of our heads, as to gauge our whereabouts. I was just about near the center of the arc that us twenty-four tributes Formed. On my right I recognized Trigger Suresight, on my left, was Bella. Her midnight hair was blown just slightly askew by the teasing breeze that had begun to blow over the plain.
And then the announcer began the torturous countdown from sixty. 59...58...57...56... we knew we couldn't move for sixty seconds, unless, of course, you wanted to be obliterated by the lands mines under your pedestal. I could see the various containers, bags, cases, and weapons that surrounded the cornucopia, and those in the very mouth. That's where the best stuff was. There, you could find a pack with enough food and water to last you weeks. While on the very perimeter, you would be lucky to come away with a stale cracker. That's how they drew you into the bloodbath.
20...19...18... Launch time was near. My heartbeat jumped to my ears as I positioned myself to run. Not to the very mouth of the cornucopia, I wasn't that stupid. I had actually espied a fairly sizable pack about twenty yards away. Then I remembered Bella's uncanny speed. I turned my head to her, and yes, her eyes were locked on the same pack. She could probably beat me in this short sprint. But that was fine, we were a team, so either of us grabbing the pack would be a good thing for us.
5...4...3...2...1...LAUNCH!
All meaning of all things at that moment thundered into nothingness. The rush of blood and wind in your ears was symbolic of the only task you had at the moment. Run. I worked my legs as hard as I could, kicking up chunks of turf as I did so. The tributes were converging on the cornucopia, as expected, the careers shot strait for the mouth. Eureka, Trigger, and Roxanne were already engaging one another.
With luck, I had beaten Bella to the pack. I bent for it and found it to be heavier than I expected. I had just hoisted it on my back when I was clobbered from the side. I collided with hard-packed earth as I looked up to see Diamond Sutra hovering over me. He wore a triumphant grin as he moved in on me, a glinting knife in one hand.
The pack had seemingly quadrupled in weight, but it gave me an idea. I shucked it off and used it as a shield against Diamond's expertly guided knife strokes. The pack was shredded and most of it's contents was spilled to the ground. Diamond quickly scooped up a spilled blanket and what looked like another knife and departed at lightning speed. I bent to retrieve what was left when suddenly, I was attacked.
The steel was cold. But it was quickly heated by the blood that had been drawn from my body. The sensation came again. My head recoiled backwards as something sharp plunged into my back. Due to the adrenaline coursing through me, the sensation was oddly painless, but I knew it wasn't harmless. I was stabbed in the back a third time as I plundered to my feet. I whirled around, and in my blurring vision I could see someone standing there, a bloody sword in their hands.
It was Bella.
She stabbed me again, this time in the stomach. "I'm so sorry, Alexandre," she moaned. The tears blurred her eyes and her voice. I fell onto my back, blood loss and shock making my legs useless. Bella was on her knees, plunging her sword into my abdomen again, again, and again. I was half dead, and I barely felt a thing. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm sorry, Alexandre. I'm so sorry…"
I pushed up on my elbows and shot myself back into consciousness. Dazzle was cradling my head to her breast. "You were screaming," she said almost helplessly. "I tried waking you, but…"
"I'm fine," I said. I made the sign of the cross over myself and fell backwards into the bedding, hugging Dazzle close to me. The room was in a state of semi darkness. It was well after dawn, but no light shown through the windows.
"Your nightmare," Dazzle said. "Was it…?"
I nodded. Nothing need be said. Dazzle draped her naked body over mine and buried a kiss in my throat. "What time is it?" I asked her. Dazzle snapped her fingers and the darkened window projected an image of a digital clock into the room.
"Nine-thirty," she said. Launch time was to be at twelve noon. "Alexandre…"
"Shower with me," I said to her. We kicked off the thick covers, damp with sweat, (among other fluids) and padded into the lush capitol bathroom. The steaming water rolled off our bodies, taking with it layers of dried sweat, dirt, and remnants of the previous night's passion. But it couldn't take away the memory of the nightmare; not the dream, or it's real life counterpart that I was to live in just a few hours time.
Dazzle scrubbed me over with a fluffy loofah, taking particular care with my member. She kissed my neck as she massaged me well. I could feel myself stand up in her hands. She looked at me through her gorgeous green-brown eyes, (their natural color) "I think we've got time for one more," she said, propping her foot on a soap cache.
As tempting as it was, I knew I couldn't. I couldn't afford to burn the energy. I cut off the water and stepped out of the shower. We dried ourselves in the full-body blower and got re-dressed. No sooner than did we sit on the bed, a peacekeeper came through the door. "It's time," she said gruffly.
She lead us out of the room and into the corridor, where many other peacekeepers waited. I was told to move along as Dazzle was held back. "I'll see you soon," I said to her. She nodded solemnly. I walked the length of the corridor and was guided onto an elevator. It was a silent ride up to the training center's roof. There, a capitol hovercraft waited for me. This would be my transport to the arena. Once onboard, I found I was not alone. I shared this craft with eleven other tributes. I was strapped into a hard metal seat. I found myself sitting directly across from Meredith Wingstar. I averted my gaze as I craned my neck looking for Bella. She was not here. I noticed that no two tributes aboard this craft were from the same district. A nice touch by the game makers.
With a lurch, we were in the air. As there were no windows, it was impossible to tell where we were flying to. An outside view of the arena was obviously not a comfort we were allowed. A capitol woman was moving amongst the tributes now, doing something I couldn't see to each of their arms. She stopped just in front of me. "Give me your hand," she said shortly. I instinctively offered my dominant hand, the right one. The woman shook her head and signaled for my left. She locked something around my left wrist that closed with a metallic clink. It was a bracelet. It was gun-metal grey and streaked with black lines of manufactured age. And inscribed around it, in huge capital letters of blazing red, were the words DISTRICT 12 TRIBUTE.
"What's this?" I asked her.
"Your tracking bracelet," was her clipped response. "It is completely water proof, shock proof, and indestructible. Should you try to remove it-"
"I get it," I mumbled. She moved on and the rest of the ride passed in an unbearably stiff silence. We were in amongst the enemy. In no less than two hours we would all be seeing to the deaths of the very people we were sitting next to now. It was not a good feeling.
With a jolt, the hovercraft landed. The hatch opened, flooding the craft with daylight. And one by one, we were ushered off the vehicle. Being district twelve, I disembarked last. I was lead down a dizzying series of corridors. Lead right and left and right again by the pointing of a peacekeeper's gloved hand and a stern look. Being lead on and on like this, I felt about as helpless as a butterfly in a hurricane. And finally I came upon a set of oaken double doors, guarded by two peacekeepers. They pushed the doors open simultaneously and I stepped through. I was immediately blinded by artificial light. And I knew where I was. It was a seemingly endless corridor, hung on either side in regular intervals by enormous and elaborately framed oil paintings of Hunger Games victors.
They were all here, each and every champion of the past from first to last. The paintings depicted the victors in many different methods. Some wore their arena gear and held their choice weapon with a solemn expression on their faces. Others were depicted in their victory coronation ensemble; the males in shining suits; and the females in glowing gowns, each with the crown of victory atop their heads. And others still, were immortalized in a moment taken strait from the arena. Weather they were caught mid-stride as they dashed for the cornucopia, or locked in combat with another tribute; they were here now, captured forever in a moment of eternal candid ferocity.
This was the hall of champions.
I walked slowly, very slowly down the hall. This particular hall had been replicated many times throughout the years, and I knew, right at this moment, that all twenty four of us tributes were having the very same experience. The names of the thirty-two victors were as follows:
The 1st victor- Penn Handwright. District 1 male.
The 2nd victor- Fresco Hightower. District 3 male.
The 3rd victor- Primo Victoria. District 1 female
The 4th victor- Mason Stoneway. District 2 male.
The 5th victor- Sinclair Tryst. District 8 female.
The 6th victor- Lobelia Fields. District 11 female.
The 7th victor- Richter Magnum. District 4 male.
The 8th victor- Charity Bandit. District 1 female.
The 9th victor- Strings Quartet. District 1 male.
The 10th victor- Lively Graves. District 5 male.
The 11th victor- Barren Duster. District 6 male.
The 12th victor- Isabelle Ringer. District 3 female.
The 13th victor- Foster Maverick. District 7 male.
The 14th victor- Amiah Virgin. District 3 female.
The 15th victor- Gevurah Justice. District 2 male.
The 16th victor- Pastor Methodist. District 9 male.
The 17th victor- Angelo Esprit. District 10 male.
The 18th victor- Cadenza Tempest. District 4 male.
The 19th victor- Stanza Syllabus. District 10 male.
The 20th victor- Savanna Wilder. District 5 female.
The 21st victor- Paige Turner. District 8 male.
The 22nd victor- Ivory Darken. District 1 female.
The 23rd victor- T.G. Sadist. District 8 male.
The 24th victor- Dublin Cash. District 6 male.
The 25th victor- Serenity Riot. District 3 female.
The 26th victor- America Greenday. District 10 female.
The 27th victor- Allegra Claritin. District 9 female.
The 28th victor- Jester Bennington. District 5 male.
The 29th victor- Bunsen Berner. District 11 male.
The 30th victor- Lotus Evora. District 1 female.
The 31st victor- Riches Galore. District 1 female.
The 32nd victor- Malachi Alex-Black. District 6 male.
I recognize a lot of their faces, remember them from the airing and re-airing of all the past Hunger Games and various remembrance programs. Though one thing disturbed me. None of these people were from district twelve. That sure didn't help my confidence any. I left the hall of champions and was once again pointed down another series of winding corridors. I doubted I could ever find my way back on my own. And finally I arrived at what was my launch room. A peacekeeper held the door open for me. This was not a gesture of kindness, it was more like a 'You. In here. Now.' kind of thing. The door was closed behind me with a bang and I found myself alone in an unremarkable four-walled room. There was a restroom, a couch, and the foreboding glass tube that would propel me into the arena.
I wandered into the restroom and shut the door behind me. My throat was suddenly dry as paper. I looked for the sink, and didn't find any. The only tool in this room was a toilet made of silver. I wanted the sink; to use it as a last method of hydrating myself. That wasn't going to happen. I looked in a disbelieving dismay at the toilet. It looked clean enough, I guess. I wasn't provided any food or water this whole morning, and who knows when I'll be able to drink again? "Jesus Christ almighty…" I moaned. There was no other choice. I knelt down over the bowl, and before I could even think about what I was doing, puckered my lips to the water and began to drink.
At least it didn't taste like toilet water. Everything in the capitol was meticulously cleaned and cared for, their restroom facilities were no different. I stood up when I finally had my fill. I wiggled my hips and felt the water slosh around in my stomach. There. That should hold me for a few days. I left the restroom and immediately felt something tiny collide with my being. It was Dazzle. She locked her arms around my neck and I hugged her around the waist. Neither of us said anything for about a minute. Finally she let me go and said, "I don't wanna be all lame and stuff but…I know you can do it."
She meant winning. Which, deep down, wasn't something I was sure I could do. I just looked back to her, deep into those remarkably reflective eyes of hers. What a beautiful woman she was. It's a shame that only the Hunger Games had drawn us together; because under normal circumstances, I would never known this incredible person even existed. Dazzle. So clever, confident, and gorgeous. And that's when I felt it. All the humanity that I refused to acknowledge for the past six years coming to the surface. It was a strange feeling. And apparently, only Dazzle could have drawn it out of me. Then again, I guess this to be expected. This could well be my last day alive; I would probably die in less than an hour. This was simply my mortality, making a final, forlorn showing. Looking for that one last bit of human discourse.
And then Dazzle started crying. "Am I being selfish?" she choked.
"Why would you think that?" I asked.
"It just doesn't seem right," she sobbed. "Me falling in love with you, knowing full well…"
"Stop it," I told her. "You don't think I asked myself that same question? I was full of doubt myself, before I realized that this feeling belongs to me. Not the capitol, but to me. They try to rule everything in our lives; control our every action; our every emotion. But there are some things that they can't control." I caressed her heart-shaped face with a gentle finger, as though it were a fragile thing that would crack under too much pressure.
Dazzle kissed me with a delicate conviction and whispered, "I love you, Alexandre."
"And I love you, Dazzle." There. I said it. "There is just one thing I want to know…"
"Anything," she whispered.
"How old are you?"
Dazzle's tear streaked face broke into a smile. "I'm twenty, you asshole." So, she was older than me after all. Dazzle then went to the couch and brought over my jacket that I would wear in the arena. I slipped it on and rotated my shoulders to test the fit. It was jet-black and matched my arena ensemble that I dressed in this morning; sturdy black boots with tough soles that laced up to my ankles; black pants that were made of canvas; and a simple long-sleeved black shirt. She zippered me into the jacket and then we just hugged each other close until that familiar automated voice chimed in. "Thirty seconds to launch."
Dazzle framed my face with her hands and spoke with a sudden urgency, "It's never too late, Alexandre, to change everything you are, and everything you were."
"I don't have much of a choice," I said back. "My last chance has arrived."
"Twenty seconds to launch."
"You just got to be the best," Dazzle said. "I know you can do it."
"Yeah. Hard times are ahead," I said back.
"Ten seconds to launch."
Dazzle and I turned to the glass tube. I doubted my legs would hold up on the trip across the room, but somehow, they did. I entered the terrifyingly claustrophobic tube and the glass instantly shut around me. Dazzle pressed her hand to the glass and I met it with my own. She said something to me, but the tube had cut off all sound from the room. And then I was being lifted. Lifted into the arena of death and nightmares. The view of the launch room faded and I was washed in darkness. And then in those moments right there, I knew what Dazzle had said.
"Come back to me."
*End of Chapter 10*
A/N: Okay, now I know what you're all thinking. 'Who the hell are all those people? Those…victors?' Yes, I am aware that all the usual suspects are missing, and none of the names correspond to the Hunger Games cannon. Just remember that this is MY version of the Hunger Games; same universe; different take. Hell, even in my synopsis it says ORIGINAL CHARACTERS. Just in case someone feels the need to point any of this out.
Anyway a thanks for the members and guests who gave this a read. I'll be sure to keep it moving along.
- B.D. Skunkworks