Yes, I killed Peeta. Sorry if you're disappointed, but my plans for this story wouldn't work if he was still alive. Plus I promised that this story was not a cop out and would just be the same as the books, so things have to change. But anyway, more of Gale's Games in this chapter! I thought I'd take the opportunity since Katniss is currently unconscious and some of my wonderful reviewers have asked for more of it. Enjoy!
The Gamemakers have indeed decided to step in to make these Games less dull while half the tributes sleep off the tracker jacker venom. Their choice of entertainment is muttations, the one thing I luckily don't have to worry about for Katniss. Since Thresh is evidently the only real competitor conscious, and like Katniss has a high score and very little to show for it, he is their predominant victim. In his field of grains with no one else for miles, Thresh battles strange large cat mutts with black and orange stripes, which the commenters call tiger mutts. Except, they explain unlike real tigers, these have teeth and claws like razors, and regenerate almost immediately any body part except for their heads. For hours, three or four of them chase and fight Thresh, pushing him slowly out of his field. But Thresh fights back, showing that his pure strength with the help of a scythe he found at the Cornucopia is worth something. Once he figures out that hacking off arms and torsos won't stop the tiger mutts, he inadvertently realizes how to kill them when he beheads one by accident and it doesn't regenerate. He fights the other two tiger mutts for another hour or so, but knows where to aim now so eventually he is victorious, and stalks back to his grain hut with nothing more than some scratches that aren't fatal. Damn, this guy's good. If he can beat mutts like their almost nothing, then I can only pray that he fucking dies before he encounters Katniss. He's easily the most dangerous competitor here other than Cato.
Another mutt is hiding out at the lake where the Careers are still unconscious, but it doesn't attack just yet. It's something like what the commenters call a crocodile, and it's apparently going to lie in wait until a Career is conscious. That will be a lovely surprise for the first Career who wakes up. I'd almost feel bad for them if I gave a shit about Careers. I can only be thankful that the mutts can't lie in wait for Katniss to wake up; it makes all I had to go through for my deal worth it.
Haymitch has been gone for a while doing whatever the hell Haymitch does with his time, and I'm left with Finnick and the newly awakened Johanna. Since the Games are rather boring now and Katniss is relatively safe in her unconscious slumber with her hallucinations and nightmares from the venom, which unfortunately I could never help with, the three of us just kind of sit around and talk. I really didn't realize how boring being a mentor could be. At home, they cut out most of the dull moments, but here we have to wait them out. All there is to do in these kind of times is talk or sleep. We don't talk about the Games though. They don't mention Peeta, and I don't bring it up. I'm still feeling a bit hollow and guilty over his death, still trying to deal with it but I guess distracting myself talking about other things with them is helping. Maybe if I can just try to not think about it I'll feel alright. Though it will still haunt me in my dreams without a doubt, hopefully I can find a way to get through the waking hours without feeling so damn guilty.
Haymitch comes back after about two hours of us talking quietly and gestures for me to come outside and talk to him. I check Katniss's screen like an addict to make sure she's alright, even though I know it's futile. She won't be awake yet-in fact, an expert that the commenters had on said that none of the tributes with stings should be conscious for at least another twelve hours if not more. Guess the venom takes a while to work its way out of their systems. As expected, she's still in the ditch curled up unconscious, so I sigh and follow Haymitch out the door and to the elevator to wherever the hell he's taking me.
When we step off the elevator, we're on the roof of all places. Why would Haymitch take me here?
"So I just talked to the mayor about the new angle the boy gave her." Haymitch begins in a low voice.
"The mayor? Why?" I ask, confused. I really have no idea what the mayor of District 12 has anything to do with the Hunger Games.
"He's got a separate phone that can't be hacked." Haymitch answers me. Interesting. What we're the mayor and Haymitch discussing that they evidently didn't want the Capitol to know about?
"Oh. What we're you talking about?" I ask.
"Things. Of course as soon as the boy mentioned the 'he needs you' thing, the Capitolite reporters would swarm District 12 trying to find out who he is. And of course the logical guess from everyone would be you." Haymitch replies.
"And?" I really don't know where he's going with this.
"And there's confusion. Though everyone has suspected you two would be together at some point, no one knows anything for sure. We think the best way to go around this is to keep it a mystery, not say anything for certain at all. So the Mayor's daughter is going to mention to your family and hers to stay away from the reporters, and if they're unlucky enough to get cornered by one to avoid answering for certain either way."
"How is that helpful?" I ask. Seriously what is with this roof? I swear that almost every strange conversation I have at this damn building happens up here.
"It will help in the long run. The longer the sponsors don't know for sure the more they will be interested. Trust me kid, we'll figure this out. Understand?" he answers, taking hold of my shoulders and willing me to just not question him for once. Figure what out? What the fuck is with this guy? Why doesn't anyone tell me anything?
"Yeah." I answer, still confused. I glare at him until he lets me go. Oh well, I'll go along with this plan until I figure out on my own what the fuck goes through his crazy head. Easier said than done in that drunk fuck's case. He nods at me in approval and we go back down to the Mentor Room.
Not much has changed in the time I was gone, the focus still being on the conscious tributes and the mutt silently watching the Careers' sleeping forms. I'm just sitting there with Johanna and Haymitch, as Finnick has gone on yet another appointment and should return soon. A lot of mentors are walking around and chatting with one another, because they are either out of tributes, bored, or just socializing. Despite where we are and how many incredibly different people are gathered in this room, a majority of the Victors seem to get along. It's that family thing that Finnick was talking about earlier, I think. Victors understand other Victors unlike almost anyone else would, and they see each other year in and year out. Most people here have been friends for years, I think. I guess that's one of the few advantages of winning-you get friends from other districts who you get to see every year. It's kind of nice, I guess. I have definitely relied on Finnick as a friend, and I'm even warming up to Johanna. Friends that I would never have met, never even have looked twice at if I hadn't won the Hunger Games. Everything happens for a reason I guess.
I'm just observing the room when I see the District 5 male mentor walk past me, and he gives me a dirty look as he walks away. What the hell was that for? The District 5 tribute died in the bloodbath, and they only have Quinn as their hope now. She's not really his responsibility, so I guess he's just here helping his fellow mentor. But that wouldn't give him the right to give me a dirty look, because neither Katniss nor Peeta killed the boy from 5. But then I think on it…of course, it makes sense now. I killed the District 5 boy tribute in my Games-that has to be the reason for the dirty look.
It was the second day in the arena, and I had just received more rope from Haymitch as a sponsor gift because he knew what my plan was. I was actually thrilled that I had sponsors and got a gift, because I didn't quite expect it. It's not exactly common for a District 12 tribute, but perhaps my training score of 9, which was the highest a tribute from our district had ever received, made some people have hope in me. I didn't necessarily need the rope since I had grabbed some at the Cornucopia, but extra couldn't hurt-it just meant that I could use it to make more snares, which was currently my best chance to win since my other choice was taken from me.
Once the cannon started the Games I had my eye on the prize of the golden bow and sheath of arrows about thirty yards to my right and center, but the District 1 boy took it before I got there, giving me a smirk. I was so pissed because he did that on purpose, knowing that I wanted it-he didn't even know how to use a bow like I did; his attempts in training were amateur at best. But I couldn't go fight him for it, not if I wanted to live past the first day; I already had a huge target on my back, courtesy of my training score and refusing to accept being in the Career alliance. He aimed an arrow at me as I ran but missed by a few feet. The second time he aimed it was a little better, nicking me in the arm and drawing blood. I grunted at the pain but never stopped running, getting out of his range. I had to get away before he could get the others to attack me or find a weapon he could use against me, grabbing ropes, a knife, and a blue backpack on my way to the woods. I didn't recognize most of the trees, them not being like the woods back home where I practically lived with Katniss, but I'd manage. Any woods are much better than none at all.
I ran like my life depended on it (which it did) through the unfamiliar woods and only stopped when I found a water source. I filled up the canteen that I found in my backpack and bandaged up my cut from the arrow while listening to the cannons that signaled that the bloodbath was over. I heard thirteen cannons, which is a sort of high number for a bloodbath-the average is between nine and twelve. I expected it actually, because the Career pack was pretty damn good this year; specifically Emerald and Glaze from 1, the girl from 2, Audrey, and the boy from 4, Sebastian. All four of them had gotten nines or tens in training, and they were ruthless. They did have a humane side though, as much as I hate to admit it-I heard them joking around, teasing the girl from 4 who had a soft spot for her little brother, whom she had taught to make sandcastles. Or even Audrey, joking with her district partner about how her boyfriend was pissed off because he lost a bet to him over a weight-throwing contest and she had to comfort him. I didn't want to believe that they were people, that they had background stories because I knew they would either be dead soon or I'd have to kill them myself to win, but you can't help hearing sometimes. I tried to wipe all the stories from my mind before the Games. If anger or uncaring was the only thing I had left for them, it would make it a little easier to kill them.
That night I climbed a tree and watched the death toll. Both from 3, the girl from 5, both from 6 and the boy from 7. The girl from eight. So little Jacob made it-I was actually shocked by that, and a little proud of the kid. The girl from nine, and both from 10 and 11 were next. Which left my district partner as the last death of the day. I can't say I'm shocked-even she knew she was probably a bloodbath, so I ignored her for the most part as to not get too attached. Of course all the Careers would make it the first day, and I climbed as high as I dared for some rest before they started hunting tributes.
The second day after Haymitch sent me the rope I got to work on my plan. I knew that if I could do this correctly, transfer my hunting skills with snares to the Games, I could pull off making it far. I hated actually being a predator of humans, but I didn't want the Gamemakers to get bored with me and send something against me I couldn't control too well, like a mutt or a natural disaster. So I grudgingly got to work and set up the largest, most complicated snares I had ever done, almost hoping that no one would get caught in it. Well, at least it would be easier for me if a Career was trapped by my snare, but it would still be hard to kill them.
After setting up three snares around my area, I hiked myself up a tree to lie in wait. Not much happened for hours, and I was getting edgy. What if this doesn't work? What if it does? What if the audience is getting bored with me and they send a mutt up my tree for me to fight with nothing but a knife? No, I decided, they aren't going to do that. Either there is a damn good fight going on, or they are just curious to see if my snares work. Or perhaps the audience's vicious appetite for killing is sated for now, seeing as I've heard two cannons since last night, undoubtedly victims of the Careers.
Suddenly about an hour before sundown, I hear a scream of someone who is unquestionably male. Even as I climb down the tree swiftly but silently, I don't want to do it. But I have to, I have to kill. At this point I'm just praying it's not Jacob, because he reminds me too much of Rory-it would be like killing my brother, which I would never do. I creep quietly along to see who fell victim to my snare, and after about fifteen minutes I find out. It's a boy of about my age, with almost orange red hair and he seems a bit frightened, struggling in vain to get out of my snare. I'm relieved to see it's not Jacob, but I really wish it was a Career. Not this boy from another district, from District 5 I think who pulled off a seven in training. But I have to do this. I have to win-any means necessary. Before he can see me, I slip behind the tree that he is hanging from and closing my eyes, I quickly slit his throat from behind before he sees it coming.
BOOM!
I feel so fucking guilty, so ashamed of myself. I'm a killer. I'm a murderer, someone with human blood on their hands. I thought it would be like hunting. And it is in a sense; set the snare, and if the prey is still living give it a quick, painless end. But the after effects of it are so different when it's a human. This boy had family, friends, maybe even a girlfriend. And I'm certain all of them hate me with a passion right now. Hell, I hate myself. But using any means necessary to win makes me have to do this. I don't want to, but I have to appear like this doesn't affect me for the cameras-I don't want to look weak. So I put on my best mask to hide my pain and self-loathing and stalk back to my tree for the night. The anthem plays soon, and I see the boy I killed, the girl from seven, and the boy from nine staring down at me from their pictures in the sky. Damn, these Games are going quickly-it's the second night and we're already down to eight tributes. Six Careers, little Jacob, and me.
I hope the mentor from District 5 can forgive me eventually. I mean, I didn't want to kill his tribute, who actually had a small chance with his seven. But in the arena, things are necessary to win, and they aren't always pleasant or pretty things. And I certainly didn't know the effects it would have on me that day, with the snares. The line dubbed by the Capitol women that apparently started that day with the boy from 5, ensnare me. I wish I could tell the mentor from 5 that karma is biting me in the ass just fine, it's not really necessary to give me a dirty look. Or maybe it is, maybe that's protocol here. What the hell do I know? I'm only a first year mentor.