A/N: I wonder why Gwen was so popular in the poll? Maybe because of a younger tribute trumping so many older, more capable tributes? I suppose that's why.

Metamorphosis: The 100th Hunger Games
Interlude - Honoring Our Victors: Memorable HG Moments Post-Second Rebellion!

4#: Gwendolyn Faraday's Chamber of Death

Gwen continued District 3's penchant for ingenious methods of destruction once again by eliminating her competition in the most gruesome of ways. Surely her Games will go down in history as one of the more memorable ones for that reason alone. How a person so young could assemble a trap like that is beyond the minds of all of us!

...Then again, we're talking about the same young lady who graduated with solid 4.0 GPA from Panem Advanced Technical Training at the tender age of fifteen, obtained a masters from Capitol University in pre-Panem history and is currently on track to obtaining a doctorate in engineering!

The Ninety-Second Hunger Games

Victor: Gwendolyn "Gwen" Faraday

Age at Victory: 13

Predicted Placement: 23rd

Arena: Laboratory

Kills:7

Games Duration: 13 Days

"So...Gwendolyn, you're ranked one of the lowest tributes in terms of odds and placement. It also doesn't help that you're one of the two youngest of this year's roster. What say you?" asked Marceline Devereaux.

"I imagine that a lot of you will be very poor by the end of these Games." Gwen snipped. With a steely gaze, she watched the audience as they barked with laughter.

Marceline cackled as she fiddled with her fingers on her desk and leaned forward with a sneer. "Is that so? Should we place our bets on you instead?"

She nodded. "It'd be very wise to do so, especially if the arena or the materials found within are up to my standards."

Marceline flashed her one of her signature, coy smirks. "And what if they are up to your standards?"

"Then I highly advise that the others find me and find me quick." She said, her tone dead serious. "Once I get an idea, end of conversation. And in the Hunger Games, ideas from a District 3 tribute often come with bad connotations."

The audience ooh'ed at her threat while Marceline raised her hands in surrender.

"Those are some hefty words from someone so little." Marceline commented, that smirk never leaving her lips. "I dig your moxie, kid. Here's hoping any ideas you hatch work."

Gwen just hoped that this worked.

She nodded at Miles from the opposite end of the table as he too was putting on the finishing touches to the trap that was rightfully codenamed 'Project: Game Ender' because if this was performed right, all their competition would be dead within seconds, therefore ending the Games.

It was silly, yes, but she supposed that they could use a distraction from the severity of the situation.

She looked at Miles once more and watched as he mixed her solution together into a flask. She's the one who coined the idea, really. Miles was the 'muscle' of the group, mostly watching her back while she concocted their deadly trap. Electronics were more of his domain, as he spliced the wiring of the sliding doors of the rooms they stayed in to lock them in while they slept or turned up the heat or air conditioning to throw the other tributes out of whack.

Chemistry was her domain. It all started when her mentor, Professor Hewlett would perform fun science projects with her in their garage laboratory to ease her into Three's trade. She took off running with it ever since. When she leapt off her pedestal and explored this laboratory complex in its entirety, Project: Game Ender came about almost immediately.

He said that if the plan came to fruition and only the both of them remained, they'd fight for the crown fair and square.

She agreed, but she wondered how that would be possible after spending days together composing their trap? She decided that she wasn't going to think about it. Though their plan in theory was bulletproof, the Hunger Games always tended to throw curveballs when one least expected it.

That's why they constantly changed rooms within this laboratory complex that served as an arena, to avoid being perceived as cowardly. That still didn't stop them from being attacked by spliced muttations, however. Frogs spliced with a pit bulls head, mongrels whose heads split open like a Venus flytrap. They were ingenious contraptions, but downright terrifying at the same time.

But, regardless of the strange creatures the Gamemakers sicced on them, they were still in one piece after all this time and still oh so close. With Three lacking a victor since the War, she couldn't shake the thought that this was the Gamemakers' way of tossing them a freebie this year.

"Gwen, are we ready?" Miles asked. His gas mask made it hard for her to understand him almost.

She nodded. "Ready as I will ever be..."

She wasn't ready at all. Though the plan was indeed ironclad, she wasn't looking forward to being in close proximity with Diana and her pack of brutes also known as 'Careers'.

Nonetheless, they both assembled their components and gathered them at the central ventilation system. Her plan was quite simple, really. Using the vent system as a distributor, they would cause discomfort to the other tributes by filling the air with gas – chlorine gas – which this arena seems to have the useful components in abundance. All one has to do is mix a little ammonia and bleach together and perhaps even some hydraulic fluid – shake it – and observe. She did just that, compiled all the liquid in her and Miles' flask, shook it, and tossed it into the ventilation system while she turned it on simultaneously.

There. In a matter of minutes, the facility will be gassed. Hopefully by instinct, the remaining tributes would stampede to the cornucopia thinking that a Gamemaker-induced finale was in progress.

Now, it was just a matter of herding people to the cornucopia. With its atrium-like design, the cornucopia is the only place within the arena with a suitable area to ventilate – i.e. breathe. If they performed this task right, no one would be able to – except for them of course.

Just as she was about to collect her mask, however Miles moved to stop her.

"You can't remember?" he explained. "You don't want them catching on, do you? I'll hold onto it for you."

"What about your mask?" she pointed out in a whiny and confused tone. She'd move to snatch it away from him, but she was in no physical condition to put up a fight. Miles was no Two by any means of the word, but even his unimpressive stature trumped hers.

Miles tapped the pack on his back. "I have a knapsack, so they'll be hidden and protected."

She nodded. He was right...sort of. If they caught a glimpse of her mask, they'd think twice about following her.

"Okay..." She said uneasily. Again, it wasn't like she could fight him for the mask..."I'll meet you at the cornucopia."

She'd have to find a way to ensure she got a mask.

She rushed out of the maintenance room and into the halls of the laboratory while Miles went the opposite way. As the alarms began to blare all around her, she rushed down the hallway, using a keycard to lock each and every door she encountered. The pair from Five got the hint, as she saw them rush down the stairs toward the cornucopia atrium as they coughed and wheezed.

It was when she reached the second floor, she saw and smelt the gas – a yellowish-green haze that hung heavy through the air. It stunk of pineapple and pool cleaner. She quickly shielded her face with her t-shirt and was thankful that she retained some protective goggles in her jacket pocket to put on.

When she rounded the corner once again to head downstairs, she skidded to a halt.

Diana and her pack were a few feet away, her spear stuck in the Five boy's neck as his cannon fires. As Diana tore the weapon from the poor boy's neck, the pack simultaneously glanced up toward her and grinned.

Diana chuckled. "Hey, hey, hey...Look who it is..."

She immediately backpedaled to the way she came as she dodged the knives and spears that pierced the wall behind her. As she barged through the stairwell doors, she jumped two stories down the stairwell to the ground floor and yelped as pain shot up her leg, which prompted her to sprout up and topple to the ground.

As much as she wanted to drop down then and there, she couldn't. So she clambered to her feet and continued limping down the hall as just feet behind her, she heard their ragged coughs and yells of "Get her!" among other curses. Thankfully she navigated her way through the gas right, as she found her way into the atrium, the giant open room that housed the pedestals and silver horn.

The skylights that encompassed the dome-like atrium were nearly obscured by the gas that hung in the air. Even the tropical trees were affected as the once lively plants drooped uncharacteristically. It reminded her of cartoons she watched where objects would protest against stenches.

The smell of humid foliage, combined with the pungent smell of pineapple and pool cleaner choked her nostrils despite the t-shirt that covered them. The glasses didn't help at this point either, as her eyes watered like there was no tomorrow

She hid right beside the sliding door entrance as Diana and the Careers barreled through without a single glance backward. A swipe from her keycard rendered the entrance sealed. She ran the circumference of the atrium and locked each and every entrance. The Five girl was inside, she saw as she hung over a crate and wheezed.

It was when she secured the final entrance she saw Miles just standing there in the haze. The gas mask he wore added to the ominous look about him. In one hand he held her mask.

"Miles!?" she cried, as she stumbled towards him. She felt her whole world shatter when Miles casually dropped the mask and stomped the visor, rendering it USELESS! Letting out an angered shriek, she sprinted after him, regardless of her injured leg.

Through her anger, she couldn't blame him. How were they really going to cut into each other after spending so much time together? Destroying her mask made things easier, if not less brutish.

But she wasn't planning on dying in here. She wanted to live, she wanted to make discoveries and contribute to the field. With the freedom that a victor gets, she can finally get away from her jealous family and spread her wings.

But that dream seemed to be getting away from her as Miles began to pick up the pace.

...That is, until a spear collided into him and pinned him against a palm tree. Like a startled cat, she jumped at the sudden timing. As he let out a shout and struggled to free himself, she quickly skittered up to him and braced her hands around his face.

"My apologies, Miles." She lamented. She tugged the mask off and fastened it onto her own face and ignored the blood that plastered the insides.

She heard the spear whistle through the air and dodged it as it pierced Miles again. His cannon went off instantaneously. The thrower was none other than Diana, who stomped over to her through the dying fauna. She stumbled to and fro while she fought off a hacking fit.

"Give...Give me...That mask...You little shit!" she wheezed.

She whimpered and pivoted to get away. Her feet were moving a mile a second but she wasn't going anywhere! She realized that Diana's hands were clasped around her hood. As she was dragged to the ground, Diana appeared in her vision. She looked nothing like the pretty and cocky tribute from Two that she saw during their time in the Capitol. Her face was pocked with blisters, snot dribbled out her nose and spittle rocketed out of her mouth and onto her mask visor with each cough that wracked her frame.

Diana nearly secured the mask from off her face, which prompted her to be exposed to the gas's stench. She gagged but held steadfast, for having some exposure was better than be totally exposed. Diana was far from saving, as she vomited all over her and keeled over. The elder Career clutched her chest and wreathed for a moment before stilling.

She quickly rose to her feet and stumbled a few meters before she collapsed against a tree. Just before her, Gleam from One stared at her from the floor with empty eyes and bile around his mouth.

It was then she heard as they cried and shrieked for help. The remainder of the career pack – including the Five girl – pounded and clawed at an exit while Dido swung his mace against a glass observation window, to no avail.

Their cries, wheezes and shrieks turned into whimpers as they slumped against the door. Dido vomited against the glass before he crumpled backward and clutched his chest as he went still.

The gas got thicker. Even though she was protected, she sort of felt its effects. Coughing fits, ticklish lungs, the need for sleep.

She didn't dare take off the mask though.

Who knew how long these masks were lying around here?

She was so sleepy. She heard so many cannons go off. One of them was probably hers.

Then she heard a loud commotion along with a loud voice. Her eyes were too droopy to focus.

Then she felt herself being lifted up and floated away somewhere. Maybe god did exist.

Then her gas mask as removed from her face and she gasped as open air made its way into her polluted lungs. She was in the arms of a Peacekeeper who wore a mask of his own that looked like a skull rather than a typical mask. In front of them was a hovercraft with men and women in teal scrubs who rushed to meet her.

She croaked out in laughter. She knew the plan would work. Ironclad. Bulletproof.

Gwen smiles weakly while the audience roars with applause. This was mostly to keep up appearances more than anything.

She could still hear the wheezing and gagging and crying, but that was only when her mind wasn't occupied with something else, which it always ways. She knew what needed to be done when her name was called on Reaping Day, so there was no point in wallowing about the death portion.

It was the aftermath that gnawed at her – the bringing someone back home part. She wished that someone could shoulder the burden with her. Then there was Sarissa Levesque's relation to Diana...That also made her somewhat sad.

She stirs and then smiles as Doris lays a hand on her shoulder. At least she had Doris around. She was pretty sure that there was supposed to be a hate-hate relationship between the mentor and the escort, but she didn't feel that way with Doris. She was like an annoying elder sister that only wanted the best.

Unfortunately, in her eyes, the best doesn't seem to be coming.

Doris McKeznie on the other hand couldn't be prouder of Gwen. Gwen was amazing, as were most victors from Three...besides the whole War thing. Like she always said, Gwen was worth five victors, the way that she's contributes to Panem at such a young age.

Like Doris always says, she knows her onions and she knows that Gwen will continue to do amazing things. She'll be there to help her along, escort or not.