10

Your Chariot Awaits

Addison Thorne winced as her prep team plucked more hair from her body. They had been at it for nearly 5 hours, waxing, washing, shaving, repeat. Creams had been applied, strange gels rubbed on. She had been put to sleep at one point, with very little warning. 'We're just adding a few details' they had said. She was sure that when she eventually did get up, she wouldn't recognize the girl in the mirror. Finally, her Prep Team let her up from the table and she looked in the mirror for the first time. She had to hold back a gasp. Looking at herself stripped completely bare, she could see all of the changes that had been made.

The only hair she had left was on top of her head, and that had been fluffed and cut and brushed to a completely new style. Her eyebrows had been plucked into a perfect shape. All blemishes had been removed from her body to give her perfect skin. Her face had been given a layer of make up to make her look perfect. But worst of all, she could see why she had been put under anesthetic. Her hips had more curve to them, and her chest was noticeably bigger. She had been made to look perfect. She felt manufactured.

Belle passed all of them on the way to her stylist, all of the girls. The Tributes had been split by gender once they got off the train, and taken into separate buildings to be prepped. Belle was now walking down a long corridor wearing nothing but some kind of hospital gown. The other girls were starting to emerge as she passed by each District's door. She remembered some of their names, Addison, Aphra, and Bitte. They had all undergone similar treatments, they all looked perfect, and they all wore the same look on their face.

All of the girls from the outer Districts, save Persephone, wore the same blank expression. The kind of expression that only comes with the hollow feeling of being altered. Their bodies had been changed, with or without their consent. Most of them wouldn't recognize themselves. Belle couldn't recognize herself. When she'd gotten up off of the table, she didn't see Belle Rose in the mirror anymore. What she saw was a 15 year old that had been turned into a blow-up doll.

Belle froze as a scream erupted from behind her. "What've they done to me?" A skinny girl burst out of one of the doors behind her, running wildly, her gown flailing around because she hadn't bothered putting it on properly. Belle caught as she attempted to fly past.

"Shhh," she hugged the girl, "They've done it to most of us."

"What are you talking about? Look at my hair!" The girl cried.

"It looks pretty normal to me…" Belle began to say, and then she realised. This was the girl from District 8, the one with a thousand colours in her hair. Now the colour was gone, and thin mousey brown locks were all that remained. Belle embraced the girl again.

"Look at my hair," she repeated, her voice much quieter this time.

"Look at your boobs," someone snorted behind them. At this point the taller girl looked down at her chest, and screamed again. The other girls were beginning to crowd around now, some comforting each other, some simply laughing. Belle turned to see the most terrifying woman she had ever laid eyes on. District 4's female, Belle couldn't remember her name, was easily 6 and half feet tall and had muscles bulging out of her eyes.

"Leave them alone," a voice spoke up. It was Bitte, the oldest of the group. But she was also the smallest. The monstrous girl picked her up by the waist with one hand. If it weren't for the situation being serious, the scene would have been incredibly comical.

"For a few days Vertigan," the Career said before dropping her what looked like several feet to the ground. A girl Belle remembered as Aphra helped Bitte up off the floor and retreated to the back.

"I don't know what you're all so upset about," Persephone Barley strutted past the group of girls from the Outer Districts, feeling her own chest, "I quite like mine."

As the pack of Careers left, Belle turned back to the weeping girl. "What's your name?"

"Rae, my name's Rae," She replied.

"Come on, let's see if we can find you any dye before the stylists make us dress up as cattle and lumps of coal."

"It could be a lot worse," Malcolm Halberd said. Lexi barely heard him. "We could have been dressed in some god awful Nuclear Disaster Suit." Lexi gave a small nod. She didn't even care what they had dressed her in. Now it was really starting, the Hunger Games were really here. Time to suck it up Lexi thought. Now there was no more avoiding it.

"What are we wearing anyway?" She asked.

"Power-plant Security Uniforms, everyone's wearing some kind of military get-up." Malcolm looked around at the other Tributes. It wasn't actually true, but he had a point. District 2 were actually wearing uniforms from the Panem Military, District 7 looked like Roman Legionnaires and District 4 looked like Warrior Fisherman from some kind of videogame.

"At least you look good in yours, I look like a teeny-tiny soldier," Malcolm laughed and nodded.

"I'm only 5' 9," Malcolm shrugged, "You're not that much shorter than I am." Lexi stood with her hand on her hips and made a face. "Come on tiny soldier," Malcolm laughed, "Your Chariot awaits."

'She had been made to look perfect. She felt manufactured.'

Heyy Guys, I have another chapter for you!

I realise this one is a little bit shorter, that's because I've kinda split it into two parts. The Chariot Rides themselves will come next. Also, I just want to make sure you guys know that this chapter is designed to make you hate the Capitol, I'm not trying to make people feel uncomfortable, it's specifically to show what an awful place that the Capitol really is and how they force people to conform to their standards.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter,

Iron Man.

Also, no Mentor question this chapter as only 2 Mentors have completed the last one.