Disclaimer : Sorry for the delay in updating. I was out on a family trip and didn't have computer/internet access.
Also I'll be posting a new poll, asking who you think will die in the bloodbath. This isn't won't impact who will die in the bloodbath, just want to make sure my choices are believable. I just realized my other poll wasn't actually showing on my profile, so I'll leave it up for another day or so & then change it.
And finally I still do not own the Hunger Games.
Every one shine
Killian Odell – District One Male
"There will be no talking. No moving until your name is called. At that point you will proceed to and through these doors. From that moment, your evaluation will begin," the woman droned on before them.
They were all there, all lined up and obediently still.
"After your evaluation, you will be free to leave. Exit by those doors." She instructed them, pointing to the doors opposite. "I repeat, do not proceed until your name is called."
She disappeared behind the doors. A moment later, a computerized voice called his name.
"Killian Odell."
He smiled, and strode behind the doors.
All of a sudden, his eyes were met with complete darkness. Where were the Gamemakers? Where were the lights.
"Welcome," boomed a voice. "This is your dress rehearsal. The countdown is already ticking. After it reaches zero, you have six minutes to convince me why you should live. Use them wisely."
Killian heard the ticking counting down, just as it would in the arena. 40. He didn't need all that time, he just needed to know where the weapons were, where the dummies were.
30 seconds. A spotlight flashed on something. It had to have been weapons, like a Cornucopia off to his left. He held his ground. Another flash of light revealed the dummies on the other side. He smiled. Aside from the darkness this was familiar.
Just as the countdown expired Killian set off. He found the weapons in a moment and his hand grasped something sharp. A sword. It had to have been by the angle. Beside it was something heavy. Without wasting an instant he hurled it at the dummies, buying himself some time to grasp the sword tightly. And then he charged, taking down who knew how many dummies before the gong sounded.
"Thank you," the same voice echoed. "You are free to go, Killian Odell."
Saphyra Cullen – District 1
Killian emerged in sweat and Saphyra passed him as her name was called. She couldn't help but smile, certain the Gamemakers wouldn't want to see any of the rest of the tributes after them. What an advantage to be first.
The darkness surprised her, but was a relief to her senses. It was nice to not to have artificial light competing with her already throbbing synapses. Even though yesterday's dosage hadn't been strong after several days of withdrawal it had been more like a tease.
"Why should you live?" was the only part of the booming speech that Saphyra needed to understand.
"Because it's not your choice! It's mine!" she shouted out loud. Now the only thing she needed was to figure out where everything was in the room. The first flash showed her plants. There had to be weapons here if she was expected to show off.
"You've got to do better than that!" she yelled as the clock read off 30 seconds, flashing with the dummies. The weapons had to be close to them. A third flash, just as the clock went off showed her what she wanted.
She found it fast, the heaviest mace in the pile. It was hard to lift, but she knew she had the strength. Fighting every second, she forced her muscles to carry it with pride. She bludgeoned the head off of the first dummy, then took down the next two at once, swinging at their knees. After the next three, she was praying that time was off.
"Thank you, Ms. Cullen. That was time," the voice said. There was nothing to betray any emotion, not disappointment, pride or any other feeling. She was simply there, a performer.
Tavia Peri – District 6.
"Tavia Peri, District 6."
Tavia nearly jumped out of her skin. They couldn't have gotten through the first five districts already! She had only seen two tributes go in.
It was true. The girl from 1 was walking out. Surely she had mis-heard. They always had the districts perform in numerical order. It was tradition.
"Tavia, they called your name," Jayanti's voice whispered beside her.
She felt exactly as she had at the Reaping, unprepared, completely thrown off of her game.
Trying hard to hide her shaking, she rose, forcing her slender figure to move gracefully towards the doors, past the tributes from five, four, three and two and then the empty spaces where the two tributes from one had been seated. At least she would get this over quickly, she thought and was plunged into darkness.
"Why are the lights out?" she demanded as the doors shut behind her.
"Welcome, Ms. Peri. The clock is counting down to the beginning of your dress rehearsal. In the six minutes that follow you will show me why you should live." Tavia tried to catch her breath. This wasn't fair, but she would press onward.
In her peripheral vision she saw a flash of light. What was that?
The clock now said 30 seconds. What had she missed? A clue?
There was another flash of light. The dummies. What should she do with them, though? How could she convince the Gamemaker to allow her to live.
One last flash.
No, not allow her. This was a dress rehearsal, he had said. It was a fight, not a conversation.
She charged the spot where she thought she had seen the dummies, prepared to tackle them to the floor. She nearly screamed as her foot made contact with a hard object. A rock, a wall, she wasn't sure. She must have miscalculated.
The intense darkness made her wonder if she would get any more light. She forced herself to jump up on her foot. She only had 6 minutes. She took a couple of quick steps before feeling them, the dummies. Without a second thought, she used her tall figure to get up onto their shoulders. Without thinking, she squeezed the dummy's neck, forcefully, hard enough to sound an alarm to note that she'd killed it. As it fell to the floor, she kicked out hard at the next one, hitting it solidly in the head. She couldn't catch her balance, though, and fell to the floor, lashing out at a third as she hit.
"Three is certainly not a disappointing kill for a dress rehearsal, Ms. Peri," the voice intoned, signaling the end of her session as the doors whooshed open. She took a moment before emerging into the light, smiling as though she had just won the Hunger Games themselves.
Tanner Amori – District 12
He rose, instinctively as his name was called, flashing Tavia a smirk as they passed each other at the door. She winked back and then the darkness closed in on him.
Completely alone. Tanner couldn't help but smile, even though he knew the solitude was a façade. The Gamemakers, of course, were only feet away, concealed for their own amusement. Their concealment probably was related to the reason they were switching up the districts, keeping all of the tributes off guard.
"Tanner Amori, this is your dress rehearsal." Tanner smiled hearing the Head Gamemaker's voice. This all made sense. He saw the dummies as flashes of light illuminated them. He memorized the spot, or figured he did. Then there was the weapons station. That wouldn't be his most convincing bet, Tanner knew.
The clock went down and Tanner bolted. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness; a benefit of being accustomed to the mines and he darted around the stations. He found the weapons station and pocketed a knife but nothing more.
Then he found them again, the dummies. His fist made contact with one of their stomachs. They stood taller than he did, by about half a foot, but his fists were strong. He packed enough force into the next punch to knock the next two dummies down like dominoes. Then he finished the job, finishing off four, and then staring down the fifth.
He turned to where he presumed the Gamemakers to be. "This one would remain until its usefulness ends. Then, when they're no longer useful, I'll dispose of them and live."
A gong sounded, signaling the end of the rehearsal.
"Thank you, Mr. Amori." The voice said as the doors whooshed open.
Gloria Leeper – District 12 Female
Gloria obediently entered the room, in total darkness. How would the Gamemakers be able to see anything she did? Surely they were going to turn the lights back on.
"This is your dress rehearsal, Ms. Leeper. In the next six minutes, you will show me why you should live. When the clock hits zero it begins."
They weren't going to turn the lights on. Maybe this would make it easier. She was small after all, easy to hide and even easier to hide in the dark.
A flash of light hit on a tree. Would there be another one? There was. The dummies. Of course. There were always dummies, always people to kill. But what she and Mobie had seen on the screen, they could procrastinate, wait to kill. Hiding was their strategy.
The clock hit zero and she did just that. Keeping her back to where she was certain the wall was, she found the tree, and beneath it the camouflage station. They really hadn't made the training center that difficult to figure out. All of the survival stations were grouped together. She dabbed some camouflage paint on for good measure and then scurried up into the tree. Among its leaves she was certain she was blending in, virtually invisible. Then she saw it. Beside her there were two leaves, almost identical. She smiled, picked one and floated it down to the ground.
"One's the doppelganger," she whispered, but she was confident the Gamemakers heard her as they opened the doors and excused her.
Nina Quivers – District 10 Female
"Nina Quivers" the computerized voice rang out.
That was her. It couldn't be. Once they had moved them again, Nina was convinced she would awaken back home. She didn't have to stand and make her legs work to be humiliated again, to be terrified again.
"Nina, you have to go," a voice commanded and Steric emerged from down the hall. How she had gotten there, Nina wasn't sure. The only thing she knew was that she was truly a nightmare.
Before she could protest she was inside the dark room, but there were still hands on her.
"Steric, you are on the wrong side of this glass. You are supposed to sit back and watch with the other Mentors," a voice came from above. It didn't seem angry, only stating.
"I'll stay with her, sir. She won't make it through this otherwise."
"And the arena, Steric? Will you stay with her there as well."
"No. This is as far as I go. I already did that, remember. Went through hell for someone who wasn't ready for it. Now you get her through this with as little pain as possible and make it quick."
"Steric, he said six minutes."
"And that's what I'll give you."
Nina didn't move. She covered her ears and her eyes once Steric dropped her, and held them tight. She could hear something moving, something fighting, but had no idea what. And then she heard something, the sound of her own screaming.
"Time's up, Nina." The Head Gamemaker's voice said again.
"Can I go?" she managed to ask, her voice quivering with every word, her eyes still squeezed shut.
"Yes." The man's voice was tired. She felt Steric scoop her up, her arms strong.
Elric Trace – District 5
Despite being unable to see, Elric stood up straight and tall as he addressed the Gamemakers.
"Elric Trace, District 5."
"Thank you Elric. This is your dress rehearsal. In the next six minutes after the counter has expired you will convince me why you should live."
"Thank you," Elric said, poised and ready. He could feel his nervous energy mounting, thinking. Everything was still dark, until a flash of light illuminated the weapons stations. Should he go for that? He'd only picked up a sword for the first time yesterday, but Margery had said that he would be a natural. Shouldn't he believe her?
Margery wasn't here, Elric reminded himself as a second flash of light shown on the dummies.
The third and final flash shown on a tree just as the countdown ran out. That had to be the survival stations.
Hesitating for only a moment, Elric dashed to where the tree was and began something familiar, sorting out leaves. It was almost like sorting out fabrics back at the shop. It was quick, quick enough to show his intelligence. Now he only hoped it would demonstrate his drive. This was what he knew.
He could only guess his time was running short. Should he go for the sword. He stood, ran, forcing all of his energy to get himself halfway to the weapons station, only to stop, unsure. He saw the sword before him, the thin one, like a long needle. Could he?
He took it in his hand.
"Thank you, Mr Trace," a voice intoned and the door opened, allowing light into the room. Elric thought he had seen someone's face peeping in around the corner. One of the tributes? Surely not. Maybe he'd been imaging things, Elric thought as he emerged back into the light.
Marune Xantone – District 11
"Seriously, where is my necklace?" Marune demanded, eyeing Ridge down. He was the only person who could have taken it. The sneaky, useless cretin would pay, painfully. He didn't know who he was messing with.
"Marune, I don't know where it is," the boy replied, his voice low. He was still playing the role, pretending he was following the rules while stabbing his own district partner in the back.
"Marune Xantone" a voice called out.
"I'm just trying to find my necklace," Marune said innocently, thinking she was being disciplined. But when only silence responded, it was clear that she was being called in to her sessions. She scowled and walked in, not bothering to don a pretty face for the cameras.
"You have six minutes after the countdown to prove that you should live."
This was ridiculous, Marune thought. Her district token was gone, her district partner was a backstabber and, as far as she could tell, both of her allies were useless. Surely she hadn't made herself enough of a target in training to really attract anyone's attention. She would simply have to play it down here.
She sat down, crossed her legs and watched three flashes of light on either side of her. Part of her wanted to lash out, to attack the dummies as she knew she was meant to, but no. She wouldn't play into their game.
Then, the last flash, illuminated something she wasn't expecting. Right in front of her, exactly where she would have expected the Gamemakers to be. She saw her mentor's face. So he was here. All the more reason for her to ignore their wishes.
The countdown expired. And she sat there, simply staring up into the darkness, knowingly. She could almost hear Esthelrir begging her to get up, to engage. She sat there.
"Ms. Xantone, are you going to perform?" There was a hint of confusion in the Head Gamemaker's voice.
Marune shrugged and waited, still staring into the darkness until her time was up. Then, wordlessly, she allowed the doors to close behind her.
Ridge Therne – District 11
"Ridge Therne." His name resounded just after Marune's. He hadn't known when to expect that he'd be called, but now was as good a time as any. He rose and, smiling, tried to look confident even as Marune stared him down.
"Show me why you should live." The Gamemaker's voice announced, after establishing the rules.
The sixty seconds before his act flew like wildfire, punctuated with flashes of light, one on the trees, then a final one on him. In that final flash, he could see the entire training center bathed in light. Then all was consumed in darkness.
Ridge set something down and then burst into action. He was fast, so his feet brought him to the tree almost instantly. It was only after he was there that he realized that wasn't where he wanted to be. An instant later he found sprinted to the weapons station and found a knife. He had to convince the Gamemakers he wanted to live. The only way he could do that was show off his willingness to draw blood. He sank a knife into a dummy, focusing only on the fabric, not on the fact that soon he might have to stab an actual human. He managed to slice into the second one before his hand began to shake slightly. He could still see the image in his brain, his hand holding a knife in another living being. Was that really any different than the cruelty that had been inflicted on his own parents five months ago.
No, he had to hold on, to remain strong.
The knife clattered to the floor and he sprinted again, faster this time. He ran in circles just as fast as he could, looking at the tree, the survival station, longing to disappear into its branches.
His time was nearly up, it had to be, he realized. He returned to the center, out of breath from running so fast. He smiled, sure it had been worth it. Then he bent down and retrieved the only shining object in the training center: the coin.
"I came back for this," he said, simply and stood there, commanding their attention. Even in the darkness he could feel all eyes on him. They simply thanked him and he smiled, turned his back, and exited, pocketing his coin.
Ailis Neilan - District 3
They were going in no sort of order whatsoever, Ailis determined, flustered as her name was called. She smiled, passing the tributes from District Two as she entered the dark room. She smiled, eager to make a good impression, only to discover that there were no lights. In utter darkness, how could she hope to shine.
"Welcome, Ms. Neilan. This is a dress rehearsal. Just as you would in the Games, you have 60 seconds to decide your course of action, and then six minutes on which to act upon it."
"How are you going to see me in the dark?" Ailis demanded. She could barely see her hand in front of her own face. There was no reply. It was as though the Gamemakers were in a completely different world than she herself was. She looked, desperate for anything familiar, a face, a voice, anything.
A flash of light. It flashed on the dummies off to the left. At least now she knew where they were. But where were the weapons? There had to be something she could use to her advantage.
The clock was ticking down as another flash of light flashed across the weapons. A spear caught her eye. She'd never used something like that. Surely that would draw their attention if somehow she managed it, but could she really wield it with any skills. And then the tree came into view, the survival stations.
No, she thought as the clock ticked to zero. The spear by itself wasn't the answer.
Working as quickly as she could, Ailis memorized the location of everything. She found some rope by the tree and the survival station and set to work tying the ropes about. Three minutes had elapsed by the time she was done. It had been clumsy work tying all of the knots in the dark, but she had managed it. Now which way was the weapons's station. She remembered it had been left of her current position, towards the clock. She was certain of it.
Sure enough her hand she found it after a walking a few paces. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness.
Bringing the spear back to her rope contraption she adjusted it in place. Then, she set to the final piece of the puzzle. Moving as quickly as she could in the darkness she found the place where the dummies had been.
To her surprise there was nothing there but darkness. They had moved. How was that possible? Nearly frantic, Ailis struggled to calm herself and think through the problem. They had to be here in the training center still. The Gamemakers wouldn't remove them, not while she was still concocting her plan.
Scanning the darkness, she spotted their outline in the direction in which she supposed the Gamemmakers were. She grabbed two of them, startled at their weight, struggling with them all the way back to the tree. Then she stepped back and sprung the trap just before she was excused. She smiled. She had used every last moment to her advantage.
Jonas Tanner: - District 7
"At last. These illogical proceedings are destabilizing my sense of order!" Jonas exclaimed as his name was called. Bailey was shivering beside him, but he ignored her. He had already spent enough time smooshed between her and the quiet boy from 6, neither of whom were worthy of his attention.
He strode confidently into the room. This was one of the moments he had been awaiting anxiously, the time to display his prowess to the Gamemakers. . . . In the dark.
"Excuse me, sirs, I believe someone has forgotten to ignite the luminescence."
"We have not forgotten, Mr. Tanner. Please regard this as your dress rehearsal. 60 seconds before the curtain rises, 6 minutes after that until it descends."
"I don't require a dress rehearsal!" Jonas protested. Nonetheless, the countdown began. Jonas surveyed the room, seeking the weapons. As if by magic a light illuminated them. And then another one touched on the dummies. He saw the third flash, but didn't even care where it had been. He had already seen his goal.
"In a day and a half, when the true exam begins, I have formulated a precise plan. With my rapid speed, my allies and I will charge the Cornucopia, valiantly conquering any who oppose us." Jonas narrated the event as he dashed towards where the weapons had been. "First I would grab a spear and then hurl it at the slower challengers. But I also would have a knife." The spear left his hand and from the solid thud he hear he could tell it had hit its target. "Then my advantage of being ambidexterous will allow me to use my left hand to surprise the unsuspecting enemies with an attack to their gut." He struck with his left, embedding the knife into the dummy's throat. "Alert for any signs of betrayal from my allies, I will undoubtedly arise victorious." For good measure, Jonas solidly kicked down the last two dummies. He could feel the training of the past year, the adrenaline of his confidence racing.
"Well, what do you think? Is it worth a standing ovation?" Jonas demanded, returning to the center, facing the direction from which the voice had originated.
"Thank you, Mr. Tanner," the man's voice simply said.
Bailey Thermes - District 7
Jonas emerged with a smirk on his face and Bailey looked down just as her name was called. Trying to avoid looking at any of the other tributes she stood, kept her head up and entered the room.
"This is a dress rehearsal," a voice announced, but the clock beginning to count down told Bailey exactly what was happening, it was as though she was already there, as though she was re-living the beginning of the end of her parents.
She should have been panicking, she realized as the darkness was pierced by a flash of light, showing a tree off to the left. She wasn't though. This wasn't any scarier than the videos had been, the two records showing 46 tributes losing their lives. It almost felt familiar.
Then there were the bodies. No, she corrected herself, the dummies.
No, she thought again as the room submerged once again into darkness, the bodies. This was a dress rehearsal. Everything was almost real.
One final flash and Bailey thought she saw a familiar face. She didn't see it well, only caught the dark hair and the sad eyes, but from the angle she had it seemed as though she had just seen it on a screen.
As soon as the clock hit zero, Bailey felt herself dashing to the tree. But before she could go to its familiarity, she needed something. Where had the weapons station been. They wouldn't have a weaponless room. She veered off to the right, towards where she had seen the face. Sure enough, in the darkness before her loomed a large rack: the weapons. Now she had to find the right one.
She spotted it. Just above her eye level was a hatchet, a weapon familiar from day to day use.
In the anonymity of the darkness she found the base of the tree. She knew this, even in the dark, she could hug its trunk and shimmy herself up its branches. If there were tributes below her they never would have known. She saw its branch, strong to a point and weak after about five feet. Calculatedly, she made her way just to the right point and swung. The branch was stronger than it seemed, though. She swung again and it groaned.
"Just go down," she whispered and, with one final swing, the branch thudded to the ground. The tree swayed, but just a little, as though every branch above her sympathized with its fall. She then backed up and hurried to the next branch. This would show them, she thought, demonstrate that she could be lethal and still hide.
She stayed there, wondering until her name was called to dismiss her.
Leoric Hughes - District 8
They may have been finally going in some order, Leoric smirked as his name was called. The boy from 7, the girl from 7 and now him. He didn't care when he went. Leoric was as prepared as he ever would be.
He heard the Gamemakers say dress rehearsal and his smile broadened. He couldn't have asked for a better evaluation, especially since he already knew what he would be doing. The bro-lliance would be charging the Cornucopia, but this time he'd get a chance at it by himself, without his allies slowing him down.
Also without having to worry about his allies stabbing him in the back, as the other tributes would be prone to do, Leoric reflected as a light flashed on the weapons. That would be the Cornucopia. Except now he would be dashing towards it by himself, no one to stop him.
Get a weapon and show them what you can do with it, Leo repeated. Cassius had told him to be subtle with the Gamemakers, but that seemed like ludicrous advice. He needed to show off. And for that he needed. . . .
Props! A light flashed on the dummies and he knew his plan of action.
Until a light hit the door. The exit.
Leoric was puzzled. Why would they show him that right before the clock hit zero?
He didn't have time to figure it out because right then his feet were moving faster than he'd ever moved before, towards the weapons, towards life. His hand reached out, grasping a set of knives without his feet even stopping. He whirled around and hurled one squarely into the first dummy. Had they moved? Surely they weren't closer, Leoric thought as he stabbed the second in the gut and embedded his knife squarely in the third one's throat. He whirled around, 360 degrees. He wouldn't leave his back unprotected; the Gamemakers needed to know that right now. Then he distanced himself to the back and it came to him. That's why they had shown him the door. The clock read six just as he reached the back wall.
"Thank you Mr. Hughes."
Mobie Calp – District 10
Mobie breathed a sigh of relief as his name was called. He'd been virtually alone on the bench, with all the other tributes from 12, 11, and 10 gone he had been the furthest one on the end, next to the tributes from 9.
Now that he was in the room, though, Mobie found that he wasn't sure what to do with himself. It was pitch black, which was just an awkward way to demonstrate anything.
"Mr. Calp, consider this your dress rehearsal. You have 60 seconds to decide your approach. Then, over the next six minutes, you will show us why you should live. Good luck," the voice announced.
Mobie froze. That's what he was supposed to do, right. He was supposed to freeze to the spot to avoid being blown to bits. He knew that much. Everybody knew that much. They hadn't actually rigged this floor to explode, had they?
The clock was counting down in front of him. Mobie willed it to stop, to freeze. How could sixty seconds be enough to make a life altering decision?
Then there was a flash of light. It came from behind him, though. What could possibly be behind him besides the door? Mobie turned his head.
Another flash of light was cast on what must be the dummies. They didn't look real at all, at least the Gamemakers had been that merciful.
The clock was winding down. 15 seconds. A flash of light hit a tree in the distance.
Zero! Mobie had no idea what to do. He stared straight ahead and smiled. No, don't smile, he yelled at himself internally. Smiling gets you killed. There's no smiling in the Hunger Games. He stepped away and tried to run towards the tree. Maybe he could hide there.
Thud! Mobie staggered as he tripped over something, his own foot as he was running. He stumbled, flailed his arms frantically and then hit the floor.
Stay down, a voice inside him said. Play dead.
Would that work, though? He thought. In the carnage of the Cornucopia, if this really were the bloodbath, there weren't cannons. The other tributes wouldn't know whether he was alive or dead.
Maybe, but here he needed to show that he was alive. Mobie rose to his feet and, forcing his legs to move as fast as they could, made it to the tree.
There was a branch downed. Could he lift it, wield it as a weapon? No, he decided, but he could hide in its branches. Mobie ducked down, allowing the leaves to engulf him. No one would find him here. He would be safe within the trees branches.
"Thank you, Mr. Calp," the Gamemaker's voice dismissed him.
Dane Vautier – District 2
"Dane Vautier" Dane breathed a sigh of relief when her name was called. It wasn't right to have District Two's tributes waiting until after so many of the outer districts' tributes had already performed. What if they upstaged her! Well, she wasn't about to be shown up by a the less talented tributes.
Beaming, Dane entered into a dark room.
"Welcome, Dane. This will be your dress rehearsal." A voice announced. "Before you begin, though, I want you to know something, something you've probably wondered about for years."
Dane froze. This was the Hunger Games. The Gamemakers were powerful, but they shouldn't be able to read her mind, to guess her past. Surely this had to be a test.
"Your parents, Dane, did you know they were rebels?"
This had to be a trick. In the darkness she searched for the face of the Gamemaker.
"No! That's impossible. They left one day and never came home!"
"And that's all you remember?" the voice interrogated her.
"That's all. They must have died in an accident at work. I don't even remember them!"
"Dane, I have information, accurate information, from irrevocable sources. They tried to start a rebellion. Now, there are people in the Capitol who know that, people who would see you dead in the Games for their crimes. Their names were Spaniel and Dacks. Show me that they're wrong. You have six minutes."
Dane froze. It was too much to take in. How could they do this to her? Moreover, how could they do this to her in the dark, where she couldn't even see the weapons she was supposed to be using. In sheer darkness, she had to think. Where would the weapons be? Surely closest to the voice she had heard. As quickly as she could in the darkness, she made her way in its general direction.
Clank! Sure enough her hand touched metal. One of the swords, surely. She adjusted it in her hand. Now all she had to do was find the dummies.
She step by step she extended her sword in front of her until she felt it connect It was the dummies, it had to be. She slashed and a satisfying thud followed, decapitating the dummy. The next stroke hit the dummy beside it, stabbing it through the stomach.
"That's how I feel about rebels!" Dane declared, taking on the third, chopping off its hands, then its feet, and then, looking straight at where she presumed the Gamemakers to be, swiftly removing its head.
"Thank you, Ms. Vautier." The lead Gamemaker's voice excused her. Her pulse was racing as she left the room; uncertain as to her next steps.
Nero Taplin – District 2
Dane was riled up when she left the room. She tried to hide it, but the speed with which she dashed across the hallway gave her away.
"Nero Taplin."
He rose, one step at a time, exactly as he had envisioned this until his eyes met the darkness.
They probably wanted to catch him off guard, he supposed, but he had prepared for essentially every possibility. After training for years he was ready for whatever they could throw at him.
"Nero Taplin, this is your dress rehearsal. For the next 60 seconds you will prepare, just as you will in the games. Then the next six minutes are yours to do with what you will." The lead Gamemaker's voice bellowed.
Nero could feel the energy in him surging. It was just like it might be in two days, actually within the arena. A flash of light revealed the weapons. He'd dash for the bow and arrow, he just had to wait the next 40 seconds or so, just like the arena.
Another flash of light showed him the dummies. Perfect.
And then a third flash, but not within the training center. He thought he saw Echo's face in the window ahead of him.
And then the clock was at zero. His feet were racing toward the weapons station and the bow and arrow was in his hand in an instant. It sprung to life, shooting in the direction of the dummies. But he couldn't see. He shot two arrows, hoping for light, but he got none.
Fire. He needed fire. Where was the survival station? He dashed off in a diagonal, towards what he thought was the outline of a tree.
He tried shooting again halfway there, but he still couldn't tell if his shots were finding their target. He needed light.
Ducking down, he saw the tree looming before him. Sure enough, he had found the survival station. Hoping to be swift enough before his time ran out, he found a flint and two sticks and began to nestle it. After a moment, he saw a spark. He blew on it and then set his arrow to it. As the tip lit, he let it fly towards the mass of dummies. It struck one of them on the head. He strung another arrow, a harder one and struck the next one with a great force. It teetered. He approached and shot the same one, one more time, at very close range. The flames burst and the dummy fell, wobbling into the next one and each tumbling to the ground, like dominoes.
"Thank you, Mr. Taplin," Brutus Aurelius's voice dismissed him.
Freida Vasey – District 4
Finally! Freida thought when her name was called. There were several people she would have rather have been following besides one of the Careers, but at least she was finally on the move.
"Welcome, Freida Vasey," the voice intoned as the darkness surrounded her. "This is your dress rehearsal."
"It smells like smoke in here," Freida commented under her breath, wondering what had happened before. She saw the clock ticking down and then a flash of light on the dummies. That was all she needed. It was all she could do to keep her feet in place for the remainder of the time. There were other flashes of light, but that was all she needed, just the dummies.
Full steam ahead, she tackled the first one. There was weight to it, but once it was on the ground it wasn't particularly satisfying to wrestle. Maybe they would get more challenging as they went on. No, she thought as she twisted her legs around the second and brought it to the ground.
This wasn't going to satisfy either of them, Freida thought as she took down the third. What if she could show off what she'd learned at the camouflage station? But where was it?
Then she had an idea. If it had smelled like smoke, perhaps there had been fire. Maybe there was ash. Her hand brushed against the floor and sure enough it came away darker. She smeared herself all over in ash and then pressed herself against the wall. Surely the Gamemakers would now see that she was clever, clever enough to be a victor.
"Thank you, Ms. Vasey," the Gamemaker dismissed her.
Brody Punter – District 9
"Brody Punter"
Brody jumped when his name was called, smiling with confidence. "Bring it, bro," he declared to no one in particular as he jaunted over to the room.
"Whoa, who turned out the lights, bro?!" he exclaimed as soon as he entered.
"Brody Punter, this is your dress rehearsal." What did this guy mean? Couldn't he just be a normal Gamemaker and let him show off in a well lit room? The guy continued to drone on about something, waiting 60 seconds and then having six minutes to show off. Brody sighed. The hardest part of this would probably be standing still for the first 60 seconds.
The clock started to count down and then a light flashed. An obstacle course. That would be fun! He smirked, forcing his feet to stay in place.
Another flash showed him where the dummies were.
Perfect! He'd had no idea what he was going to do, but all the pieces were coming together.
The clock hit zero and he sprinted over to the dummies. Now where had the obstacle course gone? Dragging the dummy along with him, he made his way across the room until he found the steps of the obstacle course. Dragging it over the two barrels at the forefront, he leapt over them and found a rope dangling down. With the dummy in one hand he climbed up, tied the very same rope that had been dangling down around the dummy's head and then shoved it across the gap between the beam on which he stood to the other running parallel. As soon as he was safely on the other, he shoved the dummy down by its feet, so it was hanging in place. Seeing a large weight beside him, he tossed it at the dummy for good measure and then looked up, smiling.
"That's what I'll be doing to all those careers, bro. Me and my bro-lliance."
The Gamemakers dismissed him with a "thank you" and Brody left with a smile.
Altair Elion – District Five
Finally! Altair thought as she entered the chamber. This was familiar. The darkness that surrounded her was almost like the dark anonymity of the streets on which she lived. Except there was no sound, no pounding of feet, no strings of music, nothing greeted her ears until the Gamemaker's voice resounded into the darkness.
A dress rehearsal? Altair almost scoffed, but held herself back lest they hold that against her. Life didn't give dress rehearsals. This was just one of their sick jokes to see if they could get into her head.
Well, she'd just show them exactly what they wanted to see: why she should make it out alive.
The first flash of light nearly blinded her, but it was helpful, revealing the weapons. She knew knives well enough. She'd used them to pickpocket those who helped her make her living at their unawares. As long as she was using her hands, whether on her violin or with a knife she knew her way around.
The second flash was equally helpful, showing her the dummies. The wondered if it had shown each tribute the same thing. If that was the case, why not just have the lights on with just those things. No, there must be other things hidden from her view, things they had chosen not to show her. That frustrated her, to think that they thought they knew her after three short days.
Well, they didn't need to know her, she decided as the clock ran to zero. They just needed to see her fight.
She dashed towards the weapons station and found the first knife she could. Snug in her hand, she knew it wouldn't betray her. Then, quick as a flash, she ran towards the dummies, surefooted. The knife embedded in one of their stomachs. She withdrew it, a wet liquid spewing on her hands.
"Am I supposed to be afraid of fake blood?" she asked aloud as she slit the second's throat. She should have bit that comment back, she thought, but she didn't care now. Maybe they'd even think it was sassy.
The third she slit from bottom to top.
Satisfied, she turned to the Gamemakers and curtsied.
"Rehearsal is concluded," she declared as her six minutes timed out. She stared in their direction, though she couldn't see them, until his voice again dismissed her.
Jayanti Haeok – District 6
All of his allies had left the hall by the time his name was called and Jayanti had no idea what he was going to do.
It was always going to come down to this, he reflected, by himself. In the dark.
The Gamemaker echoed his thoughts. "Show me in six minutes why you should live."
"I want to live," Jayanti repeated to himself. It had to be true. What did he have to come back for though? Here, in this room, there was no one to tell him what to do, no one to please, no one he could aid with anything he did.
There was a flash. Or maybe he was just going mad. He could feel the sense of panic as he saw the clock counting down, just as it would be in just a few days.
He was just as alone now as he would be then, he realized. Even if the alliance he was in stood the test of the bloodbath, it was only a matter of time before it fractured. No, now wasn't the time to think about that.
Another flash and he saw a rope hanging from the obstacle course.
Why wouldn't they turn the lights on? The pitch black status of the room was driving him insane. If only he could get his bearings.
Then he saw it and was certain he was mad: a face. It flashed very quickly in front of him, the face of a woman. Whose it was he couldn't tell, perhaps his mother's.
Then his sixty seconds to think were up and it was time for him to show what he could do.
In no hurry, he sauntered over to where he thought he had seen the rope, the obstacle course. It took him a moment to find it. This was no dress rehearsal, he thought to himself. This was nothing like the fury of the bloodbath, the fear of the battles rushing on around the Cornucopia.
But he preferred this, he decided as he strung the rope around his neck. His feet raised off of the floor and he waited as the rope tightened round his neck.
Time slowed and his breath along with it. Would anyone do anything? Perhaps they couldn't even see him, maybe the Gamemakers had forgotten him, just like his mother.
"Stop!" a woman's voice hollered. His mother. But no, she would never have intervened.
"Brutus, he's going to kill himself. Stop him."
"No, he's not. He's faking," a male's voice reassured her and then all of a sudden Jayanti felt his feet meet the floor. The burden on his neck loosened.
"That will be all, Mr. Haeok."
"But my six minutes aren't up," Jayanti protested, looking at the clock. He still had a minute and a half.
"Sometimes time isn't the only factor. We have seen all we needed. Thank you."
Jayanti left the room in a fog, greeted by the harsh luminescence of the hall.
Candice Graham – District 9
There was something in the darkness. The look that had been on the boy from 6's face as he emerged had all but confirmed it. Candice felt it herself again as she entered the room.
She couldn't move, though. Not yet. One moment of stillness. Was that enough for whatever was out there to get her.
"Don't be afraid of the dark, Candice," she could hear her mother's voice echoing from when she was very little. She hasn't actually been scared of the dark for a very long time, but this was something different. Immersed in total blackness with only a voice and numbers tolling down the seconds she felt altogether in danger.
A flash of light relieved her for a brief moment, showing her a tree. That had to be where the survival station was.
Another flash showed her the obstacle course. It seemed like an abyss of darkness looming in shadow. She would stay away from that, for certain.
The third showed her the bodies. No, dummies. They surely couldn't be real.
As soon as the countdown started she made her way to the tree. She wanted to climb it, to be secure in its branches far from harm, but there was something better she could do. She had to protect herself from whatever was out there.
In the darkness, she scurried, searching for kindling, anything to light a fire. She found a flint and some bramble. That would do to light a spark. She rubbed the sticks together, faster, faster, hoping for a light.
And she got it. In a welcome radiance of light the fire burst in to being. She lit one of the sturdier branches and created a torch. Then, and only then, did she disappear into the trees branches. The little torch lit up almost the entire room. She saw nothing out of the ordinary, the weapons, the dummies, the obstacle course further away, but she still couldn't see the Gamemaker's face, not even when he dismissed her.
Margery Kelta – District 8
Margery left the two boys still on the bench. The only remaining girl, she held her head high as she was called in, passing the boy from four and the boy from three.
She was all but unfazed at the darkness. Clearly this Gamemaker had a flair for the unexpected.
"Margery Kelta, this is our dress rehearsal. You will have sixty seconds to prepare and then six minutes to show me why you should live."
A clock before her started counting down from 60, just as it would the actual day of the Hunger Games. Why would they familiarize them with that? She couldn't worry about that now, though, Margery decided, just impress them.
Or don't, she thought. If she performed as astoundingly as she could all of her acting in training, the weak, helpless face she had been putting on would have been for naught.
The tapes that she and Elric had seen couldn't help her now. This was the one part of the Games that remained in secret, lost to all record save the memory of the Gamemakers.
A flash off to her left showed her the dummies. That was helpful, but weren't they leading her, only letting her see what they wanted her to see?
One off to the right showed the obstacle course. Where were the weapons? She would need those in order to survive, which had been the task.
A third flash finally showed the weapons. She made her way that way as soon as the clock hit zero. Finding a knife well fitted to her hand, she made her way back to the dummies. She set to work on one, meticulously. She could have done a sloppy job and taken more of them out, but she didn't want to appear too impressive. She was walking a fine line, convincing the Gamemakers she was interesting, but avoiding the other tributes' attention.
Especially her that of her allies, she thought as one of her strokes dug deep into the dummy, producing a blood-like liquid. That had to mean that it was dead. She smiled, thinking back on her one previous kill. How difficult could the ones to come be?
They dismissed her and the doors swooshed behind her.
Ibrahima Abdulai – District 4
"At last!" Ibrahima sighed as his name was called. He'd been sitting next to the little boy from three for far too long. It felt as though a weight had been lifted off of him as he stood before the Gamemakers. Even the darkness didn't faze him.
"This can't be a dress rehearsal if I don't have tributes to kill," Ibrahima pointed out matter of factly after the Gamemaker made his introduction.
"Mr. Abdulai, that is precisely the point of a dress rehearsal," the voice repeated. "You will be given sixty seconds of preparation and six minutes of demonstration. Beginning now."
The countdown had started. The sixty seconds couldn't have ticked by more slowly. There were intermittent flashes of light, showing him the weapons, the dummies and the obstacle course. Ibahima almost burst out in laughter at the latter, recalling the first day of training and Jonas's embarrassing fall.
Then the time for jokes was over. A wide grin on his face, he plowed into one of the dummies for good measure, just as he imagined he would on his way to the Cornucopia. Maybe this dress rehearsal thing wasn't such a bad idea. He ran to the weapons station then, finding his favorite, familiar African throwing blades in his hand. He began chucking them, with his usual accuracy, he assumed. Despite the darkness, he felt confident that they were hitting precisely where they were aimed. Throw after throw met its mark. Ibrahima began to sweat with the excursion, but it was worth it. All of his years of training had lead him to this.
Not a single one of the blades had hit the floor he realized as the Gamemakers dismissed him. He smiled widely, confident of his success.
Raivel Aukins – District 3
Alone in the dark room, Raivel didn't even believe the Gamemakers were there until one of them started speaking.
"Raivel Aukins, this is your dress rehearsal."
Raivel giggled. They were giving him sixty seconds to prepare, but he already knew very well what he was going to show them. He didn't need to see any of their shiny props; he'd brought everything he needed with him.
His sixty seconds of introduction came and went.
Raivel sat, smiling at where he assumed the Gamemakers were and pulled his first item out of his pocket. Ailis's ring, the very first item he had nabbed.
Then the second, a golden watch.
"I'll be damned. That's mine!" a muffled voice said. So there were more people watching. So much the better! Raivel loved having an audience.
Next came a shiny knife. This one wasn't from one of the other tributes. Raivel would just let the Gamemakers wonder how he'd gotten that.
Next the shiny necklace from the girl from District Eleven. She suspected everyone else, but certainly not the little harmless boy from three.
Next he revealed the bandana. This one wasn't so particularly impressive because of any shine, but rather because he snuck it out from under the noses of an entire group of older boys.
And then last, but not least, he held out the stone, a shiny stone that must have weighed almost as much as he did. Raivel had no doubt its owner would soon be missing it, but it would be worth whatever the boy from four had in store for the thief to be able to hold onto it for a while longer.
His treasures laid out in front of him, all sparkling, for a moment, Raivel smiled. There would be more to add to his collection before the Games were done.
He allowed the Gamemakers one last moment and then pocketed them again. He wished he had a bag, but his pockets would have to do for now.
"Can I go now?" he asked.
"Yes," the Head Gamemaker's voice dismissed him. Raivel was certain he heard snickering in the background as he turned his back.
"The skies are painted with unnumbered sparks.
They are all fire and every one doth shine"