I made it the 37.5th Hunger Games (re-read the first chapter, I edited it) to make it canon with my new SYOT, Left for Dead. I'm planning a multi-chapter story as to what happened in the 37th Hunger Games that went so horribly wrong but for now, just enjoy the victor's reappearance as a mentor in the 54th Hunger Games.

It's tempting to do two endings I have to say, one of each or even where they both win because they die at the same time (and get revived or both just die). As tempting as it is though, I think it defeats the purpose of the Hunger Games so there's just one winner.

This took ages because I couldn't bear to kill either of them. Finally, the votes are in and by the votes, the victor of the 37.5th Hunger Games is…

Dead Tributes:

District 1 Female: Aphrodite Fortescue

District 2 Female: Claudia Van Paul

District 2 Male: Ronan Valkyrie

District 3 Male: Braxton Bridges

District 3 Female: Pippa York

District 4 Female: Dia Feng

District 5 Male: Xac Eckstorm

District 5 Female: Kara Sanders

District 6 Male: Gregory Pinty

District 6 Female: Gwyn Young

District 7 Male: Zane Basserei

District 7 Female: Ivory Ness

District 8 Female: Ash Manor

District 8 Male: Morty Fellar

District 9 Male: Cruz Markel

District 9 Female: Aeva Persimmon

District 10 Male: Crato Giaga

District 10 Female: Giadi Rossi

District 11 Male: Xander Bakaari

District 11 Female: Fawn Lark

District 12 Male: Alex Sparrow

District 12 Female: Artemis Rey Yale

District 13 Male: Ezekiel Peabody

District 13 Female: Alexandretta Mainoff

Uncertain Tributes:

District 1 Male: Wolfgane Lee

District 4 Male: Sage Zawyer

The Victor of the 375th Hunger Games: (District Pissed Off)

The room was warm.

I wished it was freezing cold.

The bed was comfortable and the sheets were soft as feathers.

I wished they felt like rocks, tearing at my skin.

The lights were bright; the room was white and peaceful.

I wished it was dark, that there were shadows in the corner of my vision.

The hospital was safe and there was no one trying to kill me.

I wished I was back in the arena, the night I stayed up to watch over Gwyn. I wished I could tell her to run, to get away and that I'd protect her. I wished I could have been quick enough to save Lexi instead of waiting for the second cannon. I wished I could have told Ronan that Claudia was setting her trap just as much for him as for everyone else.

Most importantly, I wished I'd taken the spear for Pippa.

I felt above my left eyebrow, pulling out the stitches in a single pull. I didn't care about the pain; I didn't even care about the fresh blood spattering the eerily white sheets.

I pulled out the IV line before they could knock me out as I got out of the warm bed. I felt around my mouth and found a new tongue, grafted on like some type of new upholstery and had to stop myself from cutting it off again, to remove what wasn't mine.

I probably would have if it weren't for the throbbing pain in my wrist where Claudia's flail had cracked it. Freaking sponsors and their gifts.

Still, I didn't feel cold. I was still warm and safe, like 23 other kids would never be. I was still alive and mobile, like 23 corpses would never be. I was able to talk and taste, like 23 children never will.

An avox walked in with a stack of clothes. She seemed shocked by the fresh blood trickling down my forehead, but she wasn't in any position to pass comment. Just like I wasn't in the arena.

There was no t shirt and dark brown pants like the ones I'd worn in the arena, except with the legs cut off to make them seem like the ones I wore, and it almost made me scream. I'd finally escaped that terrible claustrophobia of the arena, only to have it brought back to me once again in a clean, laundry-pressed little pile.

Finishing off the pile where several items I recognised instantly.

First was Pippa's necklace. Apparently giving me back my spear was too dangerous, as though I could do anything about it with all the Peacekeepers crawling around. Someone had even decided to attach my wooden fish hook token from Pippa's body. I hated it, but still I put it on, in memory of Pippa and of the part of me that died in the arena with her.

Second was the mechanical knife Gwyn had received as a sponsor gift. I slid my fingers into the handle, my fingers instantly finding their old niches. I pressed the button on the handle and watched as the tiny hydraulics shunted back and forth; making the blade twitch like someone was sawing wood. I didn't need to check to know it was dead blunt. There was even a scabbard so I could strap it to my wrist but it also served as bandaging for my wrist, which I did. Apparently they could fix the broken bone but were too… I don't know… lazy? to give me any painkillers.

I looked at the IV on the ground and decided lazy wasn't it; they just expected me to still be unconscious.

Next, there was the harness that once held my trident, spear, knife and shattered tent pole, now empty as I slung it over my shoulders onto a bare chest.

It seemed the Capitol was a fan of the 'beaten up warrior' stereotype because, apart from the one above my eye, my arms were still covered in scars from Ivory at the bloodbath before she'd run off, Claudia and just general injuries which were touched up and slightly healed but still brutal-looking. Even my 'jasmine' symbol scar was still firmly etched in the dark skin on the back of my hand.

Still far too comfortable, despite the memories weighing down my entire body and my attire, I tried to distract myself, but nothing could pull my mind away from the past. Not pain, not the beauty of the horizon, not even the thought that if I died, maybe I'd find a 'heaven.'

Even if a God did exist, I hated him. Some things were just too much to keep your belief in any sort of 'good' or 'justice.'

I was about to go out to a crowd where some of them hated me. I knew many of them wanted Wolf to win. It was so easy to forget about the distant past when the rest of the Games had been so recent. Maybe in another life I could have had Pippa, not had to hold Gwyn's hand while she died but all the Capitol remembered was Fawn and Wolf.

I was going to have my district serenaded with gifts in my honour when I felt like I should being tortured. I'd killed so many people; so many people had died for me to be safe and I felt like there should be some sort of payback. Someone to say, "I hate you, Sage!" Someone to call me by my name and name me liar. A cheat, famous only for my sins.

My stylists came in a few minutes later and dragged me down the hall towards a make up room, chatting about how amazing it was that I'd won and how they'd 'believed in me the whole time.'

Yeah right, as if they weren't calling for my blood like the rest of the Capitol as I killed their golden lover-boy Wolf.

"We voted for you the whole way Sage!" they chorused as they washed my skin.

"Voted?" I tried to ask, but the words came out all wrong. More like zwu-turd but obviously something freaky in whatever drugs they take must screw with their voices because they understood perfectly.

"Of course, the Capitol kept the two of you and then we got to choose which one we wanted to win! It was delightful, none of that 'luck' tosh but it cut the value of our bets…"

So the Capitol voted… for me?

I couldn't think of a reason why they wouldn't pick Wolf, the older lover boy who managed to pull off guy-ponytail. Then again, I knew about the special type of slave trade among victors, I'd lived with my grand father too long not to. Someone with a dead girlfriend wasn't as interesting once they were off TV, but the one who had the girl everyone forgot with the District 4 tan, the hair and the dark eyes was exactly what they wanted.

They washed the blood off my face; clearly TV gore was entertainment, but having to see it in real life disgusted them. Like they disgusted me. They didn't apply any make up for once, leaving my face clean, only serving to accentuate the newly opened wound more.

Finally, they cut my hair shorter at the back from where it had grown almost to ponytail length like Wolf and Ronan's had been. Then, instead of my usual 'hanging over the eyes' they spiked my hair up and slicked it across to end around the scar like I had just walked off the set of some stupid little movie.

It seemed I was deemed ready for my onstage performance as I was led to a small, dusty room underneath a stage bearing an overexcited show host Romeo Serene. So much for the 'serene' part. As for the 'Romeo' part, he wishes. If I hated enclosed spaces before the Games, it was nothing compared to how I felt now. It was like having knives raked down my nerves from behind, no matter how many times I tried to turn away.

"Now ladies aaaaaaaaaaaannnnnddd gentlemen!" he drawled, dragging out the 'and' like it was on his personal, squeaking torture rack, "Let's welcome the victor of the 37.5th Hunger Games, Sage Zawyer!"

The little metal disc rose up onto the stage and the lights blinded me.

I was used to the darkness of the wooded arena; even the exposure of the plateau was dull so the stage lights blinded me. If it wasn't for all the faces watching me I would have crouched in a ball like I had so many times in the arena and tried to hide from the world.

Every year I'd seen the final interviews of the Games, there'd been wild cheering for the victor. Not this year.

There was some cheering from the audience, but some of them had been gunning for Wolf to win, betted on his odds and I'd killed him. A glance at Romeo's watch told me it was only a day after the Games had finished. Apparently that wasn't long enough for them to be happy with me winning.

As I walked over to a chair placed across from Serene's, I swear you could have heard crickets chirping in the mass of Capitol people below the stage.

"So, Sage, how's it feel being the victor of this invigorating first ever half Quell?" he asked jubilantly.

"Shitty."

"What would be your favourite part of these Games?" Serene asked, trying to steer the conversation away from me swearing in front of a live audience.

"Oh, there's such a huge range of great moments to choose from isn't there?" I replied sarcastically, something which was totally missed by Serene as he nodded excitedly, "How about when I got reaped? That was totally amazing. When I had to cut my tongue out? Loved that bit too. Watching Pippa get speared by a spear aimed for me? That was great," I drawled as Serene's expression became more uneasy, but I was on a roll, "Getting chased by spider mutts? That was a great adrenaline rush. Blowing up Claudia's venom supply? Okay, maybe that was actually really fun, but that's probably about it. Holding Gwyn's hand while she died? Probably the shittiest moment of my life," that got a sound of sympathy from the audience, but apparently some of the other sarcasm was still lost on them, "Then being on my own, paranoid about who's watching me, totally loved that bit too. Finally, only deciding to fight after Lexi died really made my day. District 2's resident psychopath shattering my wrist was an amazing experience," I raise my wrist to show the scars which seems to fascinate them, "Then finding out that Wolf survived the arena and was killed here in the Capitol because you liked me better was just fantastic."

That earns cheers because they actually think I'm happy.

Ah… no.

"How about we revisit some of the best moments of the Games?" Serene asks, steering the conversation to 'lighter' topics like the experienced showman he is.

The video is well cut together; I'll give it that if nothing else. Every death is show in slow motion as the camera zooms in to be cut across by a kill count and the face of the dead tribute.

All of the most heart-breaking moments are in slow motion with music underneath the talking. I have to watch the District 13 girl kill her District partner, I have to watch the blow dart that kills Pippa and I have to watch the Careers kill each other. I have to watch Gwyn die all over again.

When I watch Wolf burn Fawn's foot off, I can't help but wonder if he wasn't really the better man.

Then again, nothing in the Capitol is based on goodness in the purity sense.

Then I have to watch me win. Watch Claudia's flail shatter my wrist, watch Wolf's torture. I have to watch everything that brought me to where I am now, warm and safe but distinctly unhappy.

"So what are you most looking forward to back in the District?" Serene asks cheerily, as though he hasn't just watched the deaths of 22 kids shortly before the other happened behind closed doors.

"Swimming, living next to my grandfather, getting back to normal life in general," I replied, trying to keep my cool while my insides burned with anger.

"That sounds great, in fact, we've got a great shot of you going swimming in the Games, let's have a look!" he shouts as the screen changes picture again to show the video of me going swimming under the waterfall. As I flick the water out of my hair I think I can see how I hooked the preteens and half the voters (females) in the Capitol.

It's about an hour more before I get off stage of inane questions and the audience shrieking my name and when I get to the Training Centre building, I realise I can't stomach sleeping in the Capitol and get on the first train back to District 4.

Does it surprise me that when I return my grandfather's missing and there's a Peacekeeper with a scarlet envelope and a death threat for the family I hate?

No, it doesn't really.

So that's it folks. If you liked this story then check out my new Hunger Games story Left for Dead: 54th Hunger Games because I think my writing's improved since this story and Sage Zawyer will reappear as the District 4 mentor (And the predecessor to Finnick Odair).

Sorry Bowserboy, I really couldn't pick it and the votes favoured Sage just like the "Capitol's" did.

I hope you enjoyed the now 37.5th Hunger Games and keep reading my stories.

PS. This in no way affects Felix Haas' chances in my new story.