A/N-I never think I got this right. Oh, well. Thresh deserves a really good death. Anyway, the District 10 boy will be posted tomorrow.

Disclaimer-I don't own Then Hunger Games. Oh, well.

Thresh, District 11

Rain, rain, rain. He's never liked rain very much. It didn't postpone picking or planting back home. It just gave you coldness. Cold and wet.

They had harvested through the bad weather. Thresh's job had been to bring away the full baskets. It made him strong. Too strong, maybe. Now he was a target.

He sits back. The field wasn't a bad place. Nobody followed him. It was a maze. Thresh had always been good at those, another sense you get when living in huge, sprawling farms all your life.

Crack.

Thresh perks his head up. Somebody was there. He could run. But there were five people left. They'd have to fight eventually.

It is Cato, he is sure of it. Katniss knew better than to fight him. She wouldn't risk it. Peeta seemed too weak. Foxface wouldn't confront. He knew it was Cato.

And it was. Cato launched himself out from behind a small patch, fury in his eyes. Thresh automatically stood up and struck a fighting pose.

Cato was mad. In the insane way. His hands shake as they push Thresh's chin back.

It was exactly what the Gamemakers wanted. The two most athletic. Fighting to the death.

Cato's blows are punctuated with roars. But Thresh is silent. He is usually silent. It is easier. You never say something wrong.

The two boys wrestled, hacking and pounding each other. Thresh wanted to survive. He really did. But he knows it comes down to this. Only one can survive.

Cato is frothing at the mouth now, lusting for the kill.

Thresh is glad he saved Katniss. She was decent to Rue. There are some truly decent people the here. And yet they must mostly die.

The force of his punch startles Cato, knocking him backwards a few feet. And he runs towards Thresh. And he clicks his knife open. And the knife is in his stomach.

And Thresh is gone.