Time to start the games! Hope you enjoy :)

Blaze: One minute, sixty-seconds, is all the time I have before a gong rings out. It seems like sixty hours. If you step off your plate before the time is up; then a mine blows you into a thousand pieces. Looking round me I can see all the other tributes evenly spaced from the Cornucopia.

The huge golden horn of the Cornucopia sits in a field of tall, waist-height, grass and is piled twenty feet high with tents. All around the ground, partially hidden in the tall grass are backpacks, water bottles, medicine kits, blankets, fire extinguishers, but not a single weapon.

To the South lies a large river with dry savanna like land on the other side. To the East lies a rainforest. To my back and the North is a mountainy terrain with tons of pine trees and to the West lies a beautiful valley with creeks and a giant lake in view and aspen trees.

My minute must almost be up. In fact, it's been about five according to my messed up brain. Time slows when you're suffering. But my brain isn't muddled. I know the minute's up. Maybe they don't alert us when time's up this year. Maybe as a twist you have to judge when the minute's up and who ever figures this out first gets a head start. Should I risk it?

An arm hits me in the face. The hot liquid blinding me. A head rolls towards the center of our circle of tributes. As if my ears have turned back on and are reacting belatedly I hear the bomb go off. The head rolls again facing me. I recognize the shocked, grey, lifeless eyes. It's her, the deaf girl from Team Eight. As I stare horrified at all the blood on bits the realization of what must have happened dawns on deaf girl, must have guessed like me that the minute was up and since she had no proof the bell hadn't rung, she thought it was safe to leave.

"Now," says Katniss from a loud speaker, "I forgot to mention this but this year we have a few new rules to put in place."

"Why?" Cries a sobbing girl on Team Six, "Why did you kill her she was my..."

Her voice is cut off and Katniss continues, "If you don't want to listen, simply step off you plate. Now, as I was saying, there will be some rule changes this year. First off, I bet you're all wondering what that little survey was about." It's a statement not a question.

"This year you have a choice to make. I know this is called the Hunger Games, but well, that doesn't mean you will have to go hungry. You can choose either to have a backpack with random food and survival supplies or a randomly assigned weapon. Now, as I said, I will also explain why I gave you that little survey. You were told to fill out what your favorite weapon was, correct? Here is a list of the weapon choices available."

A screen pops up for every one to see. It includes a wide array of choices. Weapon number twenty three is a bow and arrows and number twenty four is a set of twelve throwing knives. I get it. So basically the number matches to the tribute.

"As you may have noticed, no, should have noticed, the weapon you wrote on that survey in on here. However it is up to luck and choice on weather or not you will actually get what you desire. By the way, the alliance question had nothing to do with you guys. It was mainly for insight on potential sponsor pairings. And lastly, as you may see, this is a seemingly weaponless Cornucopia. At the center inside the horn are weapons and water bottles. They are the only water source here beside the food pack choice or any water your sponsors may give you. Now, think carefully but briefly. Food of weapon? You have five minutes to decide."

I look for Tristan, he is about seven tributes to my left. Haymitch has told us to stick together. What a tough choice. Obviously, you are going to need a weapon to get anywhere on these games, but even with one, it's too much of a risk to go inside the cornucopia with a single entrance to get water.

Tristan looks at me with an all serious gaze (one he doesn't often use). His eyes speak clearly, "You get the food, I'll get the metal." I guess this is the best option. If we're going to team up, we'll need both food in a weapon. Still, it makes me uneasy. I don't want to be the one with no means of defense. Still, we can pick off weapons from our... from our- s.

"Time's up!" Katniss yells through the speakers, "I will go down the list from Teams one to Twelve asking the boy first then the girl for their preference. For the food, you will be handed a pack once your choice is stated. For the weapons we will wait until the tallying is done and then weapons will be randomly drawn at once using a computer system. This is to ensure everyone had a fair chance at getting their choice weapon. I think it's obvious that if we assigned weapons once you made up your mind, the last team would have a much smaller random selection. Everyone is to stay on your plates through this process. If not, well you know. Now, let's begin! Team One Male"

"Weapon."

This goes on pretty quickly. I'm surprised; almost nobody has chosen food. In fact, the only ones who have are Thistle and Briar, the two pieces of fluff. Analease and Caleb also both answer "weapon."

Tristan is smirking and telling Katniss, "Weapon please." I'm tempted. So tempted to just follow the crowd. So tempted...

"Team Twelve Female," Katniss calls impatiently.

"Food," I choke out. I think I hear a slight snicker but I'm not sure. A large, but light weight back pack falls from sky in a parachute into my arms. I resist the temptation to open it. Better not to show everyone here what I've got.

On the screen with the numbered weapons, names are added. The words shuffle and then each name has a weapon number next to it.

Tristan Smithouser: Eight

I look over to the weapons chart scrolling, Tristan gets a pair of duel swords. According to the number, this must be the boy on Team Four's choice. Sure enough I look over to see blonde Asher glaring attractively (if that even makes sense) at Tristan. In his hands, he holds... a set of throwing knives. My heart sinks. Silly me for thinking it would be easy to kill off some guy to get my knives. I'm doubting Asher will be an easy target.

Analease ended up with some weird steel fan with bladed edges and Caleb has some blow darts which I bet are coated in poison. That bird-like girl on Team Five ended up with a hand gun. Hopefully the gun doesn't hold many bullets. To my horror, Ged the Giant on Team Ten ended up with a spiked club. I look at the weapon number, 19. He is the only tribute to be lucky enough to get their choice weapon. Why him? I gulp.

"Now Katniss says, let the Games Begin!"

I rush not even pausing to think the mines might still be activated. They aren't. Some of the more cautious tributes have lost valuable time. I scurry through the grass trying to pick up as much as possible. I run towards a pile of medical and survival kits.

The fat boy on Team Six runs for the pile too on his stubbly legs. He never makes it. I can see a small needle imbedded in his neck as he tumbles to the ground. What, how could a needle kill someone so easily? Then I see where it hit, right in his jugular. A girl who I don't recognize fires a needle at me (actually it's a senbon, some ancient medical tool). I drop to the ground next to the goods as it flies over my head and lodges in the thick leather of my boot. She grabs another.

"Get up!" Tristan is yelling at me. Why did it take him so long to get here?

The girl, seeing his blood coated weapons, scampers off. I snatch of the medical and survival supplies.

All around up tributes are fleeing and hacking at each other. The air smell strongly of copper. I turn my attention away from the chaos and to the cornucopia. There seems to be no one there. Even though we have the food pack, there's no telling how long it will really last and how much water it holds.

Tristan must have the same idea because he dashes ahead of me towards to golden horn. At the entrance he peers in cautiously. There's no one inside.

"I'll guard the entrance, you get supplies!" he whispers readying his swords.

Inside I grab an armful of water bottles and stuff them into my pack. I dig through them trying to find weapons. Where are they? A small switchblade catches my eye. I dive for it.

"Ahhh," comes Tristan's cry from the entrance. I hear a thud. Turning I'm just in time to see Ged's blood coated club swing back for another blow. Tristan's pant leg is ripped and blood is seeping through. Ged may not have got a direct hit, but those spikes covering the club sure got at scratch at Tristan's flesh. I grab a water bottle and fling it at his arm. They must be heavier than I thought because Ged grunts in pain and drops the club.

Tristan quickly slices at his chest making a connection with the tip of one of the blades. With the other, he swipes at Ged's right arm. The cut's deep. I fling myself toward's the switchblade and then run to help support Tristan. Ged's holding his arm to his body and cursing. Together Tristan and I limp out of the Cornucopia.

"Come on, let's get out of here!" He shouts authoritatively.

"Wait! Let's go for that tent over there! It's only about a hundred yards away! Cover me!" I scream through the chaos not waiting for a reply. Tristan is able to move pretty quickly on his own despite the wounds. I'm hoping it's not too bad. My ears drum, my head pounds, my blood races. The bag holding the tent, it's just fifty yards away now. Closer closer.

The little boy who reminds me so much of Jaden is going for it too. His eyes are wide in terror and he clutches a Javelin in his hands (Analease's javelin) as if his life depends on it. As I drew nearer he flings the too heavy weapon at my. It clatters on the ground. He looks from me to a figure behind me as I pick up the tent bag, ripping it away fiercely.

Tristan slashes through the air at the boy, at the child. Jaden, no not Jaden, falls in an attempt to dodge to attack.

"Don't!" the plea erupts from my throat. I throw myself in front of him without thinking. I feel a sharp prick pain and a bit of blood that's mine drip past my eyelashes.

"Don't kill him!" I beg.

"Come on Blaze!" Tristan tries to negotiate.

I don't stand down.

"Give me your pack!" He grunts in annoyance.

After he has all our supplies but the tent, I scoop up the child and place him on my back, leaving the javelin behind. And then we, Tristan, the boy, and I, get the hell out of there.

Okay, so I'm hoping you enjoyed this chapter better than the last. Sorry for the wait. Please feel free to review with any suggestions or comments. Thanks for reading, Risha.