Okay so I've split Day Three in half, because it was nearing 10,000 words and that's a crazy amount, so the first half is here today, and the second half, I'm hoping for Sunday or Monday because I still have a little bit to write. I feel like the chapters are becoming a little bit repetitive at the start of the Games and for some tributes, I don't know what to write, but I promise, something really big is happening soon, which is really going to spice it up! For now, though, enjoy!

Day Three

Clem

He had never considered what the tubes that led to the arena would be like. It had never crossed his mind because he never thought he would be taking one. But it was cramped, and sweaty and although Clem knew what awaited him at the end, the sooner he was out in the fresh air, the better. When Mox had announced that he wasn't going to die, a relief washed over him, but once he knew what survival meant, he wished that his fate was execution. He couldn't do this, he knew he couldn't. It was one thing designing the Games, being the architect, but it was another thing living it, breathing it, experiencing the very thing he had created. Everything he had done both to make the tributes save and to make the games exciting had been objective. He had never considered that one day he would be the one to test them out, to see the pain they really caused.
Mox had been so clever. Clem didn't know if she had done it out of love of spitefulness, neither would surprise him, Mox was cold and capable of things Clem could only imagine. It was poetic. He had fought so hard and risked so much and lost everything for these tributes, and now he was forced to join them and kill them, all the hard work he had put in would have to be wasted if he wanted to make it out alive. What if he came across Jordan? Saving his life had been the final nail in Clem's coffin. He had no doubt the younger man would kill him given the chance, and Clem knew it would be completely pointless to kill him. His fate had been decided by sponsoring Jordan, and now he was expected to kill him if he wanted to survive, it was infuriating.

That was another thing. Did he want to live? Clem had convinced himself that the only thing that awaited him was execution. The thought of death was almost appealing, he had gotten used to it, welcomed it almost. And now he had found out that he had been given another chance, to win and live and take his life back. But did he want it? What would happen if he won? He doubted the Capitol would welcome him back with open arms, or that he would get the luxury of living the rest of his days in the Victors Village. Just the thought of being named a victor made his stomach turn. It was sick the way that teenagers were called victors, rewarded for killing people, or letting people die, Clem thought it would be more of a curse than an act of success. Ahh, and the victory tour, that would be awkward wouldn't it? Hi, I'm Clem, your victor but also the person that put your children and your parent and your friend through all of that horror. Death was becoming more and more favourable by the second.

Clem was so lost in his own thoughts he had almost forgotten exactly where he was, but the daylight piercing through the clear tube reminded him that this was it, it was time. He hadn't seen any footage from the Games since the afternoon of the first day, he had no idea where the tributes were, who they were with, even who was still left alive. All he could remember was that Salome and Locke had been camped at the Cornucopia, two of the most skilled tributes in this years Games, holed up in a shelter barely ten meters from where he now stood. Great, well this was getting off to a fantastic start. What surprised Clem was that he was still breathing. Surely they would have killed him by now, he was standing there so helpless and unarmed, the perfect target. But no, he was still breathing. Clem hald his hand up to his chest, hovering it over his heart to check that he wasn't fooling himself. Nope, still beating. He couldn't tell if he was happy or sad about that fact.

Slowly, he stepped off the podium before racing to the Cornucopia. It was set up perfectly, all the supplies arranged yet left unguarded. Clem was smart enough to know that the owners of this had to be close by, the sooner he got away the better. He grabbed a spiked mace, the first weapon he came upon stuffing a small water bottle and a packet of dried fruit into his pocket. Clem had had a huge say in the design of the very arena he stood in, and right now, he was next to the only water source they had, if he wanted to survive, he needed as much fluid as he could. In a rash decision, Clem threw the food back on the floor, opting for a second bottle instead. He gave the Cornucopia a look once more, it felt completely surreal to be standing in the thing he had only ever seen on screen. But the awe and excitement quickly wore off, and soon enough, Clem was running through the first, heading towards his least favourite thing: uncertainty.

This had all been his. His kingdom, his life work, his pride and joy, the thing he had wanted more than anything in the entire world. His, all his. And now, he had let it slip through his fingers. Sure, it had been or a good reason, and Clem would go to his grave knowing he had done the right thing, but he couldn't help but feel incredibly stupid at the fact that he could have had it all. The thing he had created, and imagined and built from nothing was so beautiful, more beautiful than he could ever have thought. Apart from the death, and mysterious blood stains that he came across every now and them, that kind of ruined the image. But nonetheless, Clem was strangely proud of himself, of the kingdom he had created, the kingdom that now belonged to Mox. He was more proud that he had given it up. Ckem knew how very privileged he was in his Capitol house and his Capitol job with his Capitol life, and he had let that all go to save the people in here. If that didn't redeem his place in Heaven, he didn't know what would.

In a weird way, Clem couldn't wait to come across some of the tributes. He had learnt so much about them in the past weeks, even if he had resisted even knowing their names at first. He wanted to see them as real people, meet the ones he had ruined his own life to protect, presuming they didn't kill him, of course.

Florence, Lya, Flynt and Lilac

They had camped at the base of a smaller mountain, after climbing throughout the day. It was touch and go for Lilac for most of the time, but the further they got from the snow and the ice, the better the girl felt. By nightfall, she was sitting up and talking, complaining about the food. Lilac was back, and Florence could see how happy Flynt was at that fact. Florence, on the other hand, wasn't getting ahead of herself. The recovery Lilac had made was nothing short of miraculous, and Florence wasn't convinced that they had seen the tail end of her illness. And so, whilst Flynt ran around his girlfriend like a loyal dog, Lya and Florence stayed level headed.

When they awoke on Day Three of the Games, thankful to Flynt for keeping watch, the girls had almost forgotten that Lilac had been ill at all. She was already up, heating some very stale crackers over a small flame. It wasn't going so well, and every few seconds a flame would spark in Lilac's face, causing her to shriek and step back, much to Flynt's humour.

Lilac walked over to where Florence and Lya were standing, handing them their questionable breakfast. "We drank the last of our water this morning. I'm heading down to the lake next to the Cornucopia later to fill up." She shrugged as if it was nothing, not some sort of mission that would risk her life.

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Florence asked, reaching out to place her hand on Lilac's forearm. "You've just started feeling better, one of us could go for you?"

"You guys practically carried me here." She smiled, looking down at the floor. "You all saved my life, it's time to stop being so useless."

"She has a point…" Lya whispered, leaning in to Florence and receiving a slap on the arm from the girl. "If you feel up to it, girl, then go for it. But you probably should take someone with you."

"That's what Flynt said." Lilac answered, unable to stop herself from smiling as she said his name. "But he's so tired, he's been up most the night, and I've eaten most of the food and water and had the most sleep out of any of us, I have the energy to go where as you guys don't. It makes sense for me to go, you'll be able to see me from up here anyway." She pointed to where the silver gleam of the Cornucopia was just visible on the horizon. "I can be there and back in under two hours."

Florence and Lya both wanted to argue, but they also knew the girl was right. They were shattered, they had had hardly anything to eat, and had walked through the day before, practically carrying Lilac all the way. The thought that they could just have a few hours to relax and clean up and just do nothing was something of a luxury. Lya made the decision to not fight it for the both of them.
"Okay." She nodded, pulling Lilac in for a hug, thankful for the girl's bravery. "But if we don't see you heading back after an hour, one of us is coming down."

Lya, Florence and Flynt watched on as Lilac left them. It was almost as if she was a completely different person from the day before, all signs of sickness and fever and cold had disappeared completely. Watching her walk away, they were all wary, they knew that the girl had skills to fight, but whether or not she would be able to use them in a battle was a different matter, one none of them wanted to dwell on for longer.

"It's like seeing our child off on the first day of school." Florence joked, waving fondly at the back of Lilac's head. It was the light relief they all needed, their brows had been creased with worry for the girl.

"She's literally a year younger than you." Lya snapped back playfully, turning away from the side of the mountain, Lilac just a small spot now, barely able to make out her features.

"And she's my girlfriend… so that's not something I really want to imagine." Flynt chuckled as he shook his head, picking up a couple of knives and setting them inside a pack.

"Hey," The humour was gone as Florence saw exactly what was about to happen. "What are you doing?" She asked, placing her hand on Flynt's bicep, halting his packing.

"Oh come on, Flo," He pushed her off, swinging the bag onto his back. "You know I was never going to let her go alone. But she's strong willed she never would have let me come with her. So I'll follow, I'll hide and I'll just keep a watch over her until I'm sure the Cornucopia is empty. And then I will come right back."

Newton and Alfred

Newton stretched out his leg, hitting against something that hadn't been there the night before. He opened his eyes slowly, the sunlight creeping in, restricting his view. He moaned, wiping the sleep from his eyes, and reluctantly sitting up.

"That arrived early this morning." Alfred walked over and kicked the thing Newton had just become aware of. "I thought it was a sponsor, but then it was addressed directly to you, so I left it." He shrugged, settling his spear to the ground, finishing keeping watch now Newton was awake.

Newton pulled the object towards him, getting a better look at it, realising that it was a pack, covered in a thin layer of black plastic. He bent in closer, reading what had been inscribed on the outside. "Newton." He read to Alfred. "For your kill of Cassia, District Eight.." His voice trailed off as he realised just exactly what this way for. It had been so long since their last days in the Capitol, Newton had almost forgotten the new Quell rules. "Any kill will be rewarded with a pack." He repeated the words of Adonia, feeling sick. "I don't want it." He pushed the bag away from him, as Alfred settled down beside him on the blanket. "It's not right that I get that because, because, well because someone died. Because I killed them. It's not right, Cassia was good, and I'm not good because I killed someone. She should be here with you, not me." Newton's nervous frantic rambling that he had tried to rid himself from returned at the thought of everything that had happened.

Alfred wasn't some sort of emotionless, cold monster. He was just sensible, and right now, the sensible thing was taking that pack. It had been three days since they had found anything new, their bottles were almost empty and this morning's meal would be the last of their supplies. They had one spear between them, the point of which was already bent from where it had lodged in a tree the previous day, when Alfred had been trying to kill a squirrel. Of course, he had had second thoughts about killing the beautiful beast and so deliberately missed, even more reason why this pack was a God send, regardless of what had happened for them to receive it. "I think we should at least look in it, there might be something useful in there." He spoke tentatively. Despite his constant awkwardness, Alfred was never afraid to stand up for what he believed in, and do what was right. The reason he was so nervous now, was because he wasn't completely sure it was right. Newton had had a point, what right did they have to profit off of someone else's death, especially someone as kind hearted and special as Cassia had been. It didn't make sense, and it simply wasn't fair. But, Alfred reminded himself, he was sitting in a forest, with a boy he met only a few weeks ago, constantly wondering when his death would come.
Nothing was exactly fair anymore, fair meant nothing. Without waiting for Newton's approval, Alfred grabbed the bag, tipping the contents over to the floor.
The first thing he saw was a hammer and a knife. New weapons, that was a good start. A bottle of water, some bread and a bar of chocolate, that Alfred could hardly believe was real. Finally, there was a ball that Alfred had thought was a dead squirrel, and typical Capitol mock for their failure to capture one the day before. But, as Newton grabbed it, and hugged it close to his chest, Alfred assumed it wasn't a dead rodent, otherwise that would have been very weird…

"Mr Squishy?" Newton spoke to what Alfred now realised was a stuffed toy. A stuffed toy in the shape of a lung to be precise. It was less weird than seeing his ally hugging a dead squirrel, but still weird.

"Mr… Squishy?" Alfred asked tentatively, as he set about stuffing their belongings into the new, larger pack.

"I never really liked toys." Newton spoke bluntly, and Alfred could tell it was time for another heart to heart. "I preferred to play with wires and circuits and chemicals." That comment received a smile from Alfred, it was childhood memories he knew all too well. "And when I was five, I started having really bad nightmares, so my dad bought me this." He held up the toy for Alfred to see, and the boy realised just how tattered and old and well loved it was. "I've slept with it ever since. I even brought it to the Capitol with me, but they wouldn't let me take it into the Games. And here he is."

"Well," Alfred couldn't stop himself from smiling. "They did say you would get the thing you needed most to survive, I just didn't expect it to be this…"

A rustle in the bushes caused the boy's to stop everything. "What the hell was that?" Newton mumbled. Neither of them made any effort to retrieve their weapons, there was no chance of them fighting or killing whoever it was.

"Oh bloody hell I'm glad you two pussy's were the first people I came across." A man dressed in a black suit stumbled through the trees, standing over where the boy's still sat, too confused to move. Newton and Alfred both knew they recognised this man, but not as a tribute. He stood there still, the three looking between each other, none daring to move or speak. He looked so out of place, this new arrival, as if he had just been tossed into the arena as a joke, or as if he had accidentally walked into it and was now trapped.
Alfred did the only thing he could think to do- he laughed. This was the last thing he had ever expected to happen in this thing. He was prepared to see death, to die himself, so be tormented and tortured and tested, what he never expected to see was a man that looked like a knock of Leonardo DiCaprio standing opposite him, holding a mace at his side, but making no effort to use it. It was as if Leonardo had finally lost it after missing out on another Oscar and had gone crazy. That just made Alfred laugh even more, and slowly, he heard Newton and the Leo join in.

"My name's Clem." Rejected Leonardo finally spoke, after taking a sip of water from a bottle he produced from his pocket. "I kind of made all of this." He swung his arms around, signalling to the arena.

"What?" No one was laughing now, Alfred was angry, the nervousness he usually felt around people was not present now. He had joked with this guy, laughed with him, considered him safe, only to find out that he was the man that had made their lives hell. It was all falling into place now, the name, the face the job, the Head Gamemaker. Alfred's anger twisted into confusion, but before he could voice it, Newton was speaking.

"How the mighty have fallen, huh?" Newton retorted, glaring at the man. "I think you should leave us alone now."

"Yes, fine." Clem felt defeated. These very tributes had caused him to fall, and yet this was the thanks he got. "Look, kids." That earned him another disapproving look from both. "I'm here because I did somethings too... lets say, influence the Games, and help you. I saved some lives, changed the arena and it all backfired. I don't expect thanks or forgiveness or anything. But can you just tell me where Lana is?"

Alfred didn't know what to think now, in fact, he didn't want to think about this at all. He just wanted the man to be gone so their main focus could go back to not being murdered. "We haven't seen her since the start. But, all the tributes seem to be in the forest, so that's your best bet."

Literally why do I write this stuff? Why are the Oscars and Leonardo DiCaprio a thing in a post-apocalyptic FICTIONAL world? Let's just say this is set in our universe but like fifty years in the future... which, with the way 2020 is looking, wouldn't surprise me at all if it actually happened...

I hope you liked Clem's first Games interaction, I certainly enjoyed writing it, and please stay safe and well and happy!

Until next time,

Alice xxx