Chapter 9: Demons

Corrine Moss, 16

D12F

As a child you would wait

And watch from far away

But you always knew that you'd be the one

That work while they all play

The ambient hum of the train whizzing past the unknown landscape fills the conversation. Corrine sits at a square wooden table with her district partner and mentors discussing new protocols for the pre-games.

The man currently talking to the right of Corrine is Hilton Cunningham, youngest victor of District 12, who won by being so forgettable that the career celebrating his victory did not realize there was another tribute left.

Across from herself, old Kenna Pickering lies sleeping against the backrest of her chair. The 77-year-old woman won the Hunger Games over 50 years ago and has only brought home a single tribute in the man speaking. Personally, Corrine believes she has little to do with Hilton being alive, but he defends her nonetheless.

The pipsqueak next to her speaks up, "so you're saying we have to take a test when we get there? Why?"

Corrine rolls her eyes at the naive 12-year-old. Of course, she gets stuck with having a baby as a district partner. Peat Loughty can barely hold a butter knife, let alone a sword.

"None of this really matters, it's all just for show. That being said, it could bring in extra sponsors. I'd take it seriously."

Corrine huffs, "that's all it's ever about, isn't it? It's only ever for the show."

"Well, I can't say you're wrong, but I'm not here to talk about that. My job is to put you two," he points a finger at both Corrine and Peat, "in the best possible positions heading into the games."

"What about her?"

Peat gestures towards the old lady passed out at the table.

"She's… been through a lot in her life. I'm here to take the load off of her, so you can both look to me for now."

Corrine's eyes stare at the ceiling, "I thought every tribute gets their own mentor, I really don't want to share you with this child over here."

Peat looks at her with a grimace, "ohh, go shove it up your ass."

She turns aggressively to face the 12-year-old, "what the fuck did you say kid?"

"Ya heard me."

Corrine's nostrils flare, "you got a lot of fucking nerve for a 12-year-old. Keep that attitude and see what happens."

Peat stands to leave, "I'm leavin' to explore, have fun talkin'."

'You clearly enjoy talking considering you haven't shut your trap since we sat down, dumbass kid,' she thinks, before amusing herself a bit with another thought, 'I guess I should let him have his fun, not like he'll be around much longer to bother me.'

Peat leaves them for another cabin to do whatever the hell 12-year-olds do before they die.

Hilt takes a sip of his coffee, "so I take it that you're not allying with him?"

Corrine glances sideways at him while laughing, "yea no shit. I'm not exactly a people person."

"Nothing wrong with that, I went solo for the last few days."

He looks away, as if in deep thought. Corrine sits back in her chair and stares at the mountain of food to the left of them.

'At least they have the decency to feed us well.'

"Well, I think I'm off to take a nap, I would eat something, enjoy it while you can."

With that, Hilt retreats to a private room in the back of the train, and Corrine heads over to grab some snacks.

Before her eyes sit a truly stunning display of Capital cuisine. An arrangement of various delicacies and sweets line the long table that runs from one wall of the cabin to the other. Corrine, feeling her grumbling stomach, prepares herself to feast.

She grabs herself a plate, skips over the succulent meats and fancy appetizers, and guns straight for the sweets at the end of the table. Corrine piles her plate high with any cookies, pastries, and cakes she can find. She has a major sweet tooth, something that is difficult to satisfy in the starvation-ridden District 12. She works overtime hours just to help pay for basic needs, at least before the reapings. The little money they would have leftover went to savings in case of emergencies, so Corrine never gets sweets.

She savors every bite of the incredible desserts. They are better than she could imagine, and it brings a sort of child-like joy to her, making her forget about her current predicament for just a moment.

After both her heart and stomach are full, she follows in Hilt's footsteps to the private rooms for a nap. She wants to get all the rest she can before being under the Capital's control and influence. Corrine knows how busy her schedule will get over the next week, and she knows to cherish the hours of sleep she can get before arriving.

Before drifting off into the plush and almost scarily comfortable bed, she thinks about her interactions with Peat.

'That kid's gonna have another thing coming if he thinks he can disrespect me and have no repercussions.'

Corrine rarely smiles, and she doesn't plan on smiling until she wins this thing. She doesn't need allies or sponsors, all she needs is herself.

Corrine is going to do the one thing that keeps her moving forward in life, and that's go to work.

Talent Acres, 15

D2F

No one man should have all that power

The clock's tickin', I just count the hours

Stop trippin' I'm trippin' off the power

'Til then, fuck that, the world's ours

Talent hoped to make a good first impression with her mentor, as it would help her get sponsors for the arena.

So much for that.

"God fucking dammit Talent! You have no idea the mess you've made by volunteering!"

Igneal, one of the District 2 mentors and winner of the 169th Hunger Games, picks up a fork from the buffet behind him and approaches Talent menacingly. Her blue eyes stare coldly into Igneal's pitch-black pupils, showing no sign of cowardice. She leans against the wall of the train as he approaches, yawning on purpose to show her lack of worry.

Igneal forces his forearm against Talent's chest and slams the fork into the wall behind her. He stares dead into her eyes, and his heart beats violently and audibly.

Talent scoffs, "doesn't matter at this point, does it? Or are you gonna murder one of your district's tributes and get executed?"

Barrow speaks up, "She's not worth it Igneal, I understand that you were Marsha's personal trainer at the academy but-"

"I handpicked her as soon as I became a trainer to win this fucking game, and now she doesn't even get the chance to because of this cocky kid who thinks she can compete with people who have years of goddamn experience on her!"

Talent pushes the much larger man away from her. She doesn't need someone else telling her what she is or isn't capable of.

"I can handle myself, I don't need any help from you."

Igneal erupts into laughter and leans down, getting right into the face of the smaller girl, "you should be on your hands and knees begging for my advice right now."

Talent snickers and turns towards the exit of the car they're in. Facing the door, Talent says, "I'll be in the lounge whenever you want to discuss how we should lead the careers, Barrow."

She turns around for a split second to give a head nod to the bewildered face of her district partner, before exiting the train car and shutting the door behind her. She hears Igneal start ranting to Barrow about the "disrespect" she showed him and how Barrow is District 2's only chance at a victor now, but Talent isn't bothered. She knows what she can do, and that is the only opinion that matters to her.

The journey to the lounge is brief, and Talent surveys the room. It's a luxurious room full of couches and chairs with plush cushions for relaxation before reaching the capitol. It also includes a minibar with a private bartender who eyes Talent with surprised curiosity. He's fairly tall and has wildly long white hair, as well as a stylish goatee.

"Hey kid," he says in a raspy voice, "remote for the screen," he gestures to the projector in the middle of the room, "is on the big couch. Need a drink?"

"Water, and don't call me a kid."

The man huffs, "I call it as I see it. Don't act like everyone doesn't know about what you did. Volunteering when you weren't chosen? You realize every career and the capitol will want you dead."

"Nothing a blade can't handle, and let's see them kill me while I lead them."

"You talk a big game, kid," he says, handing her a glass of cool, crisp water, "I look forward to seeing if you live up to it."

"You'll see in time," her face darkens, "everyone will."

"Yeesh don't be so dramatic, and you're not the only fake career you know."

Her head perks up in astonishment, and ignoring the fake career comment asks, "what do you mean?"

He points to the remote, "District 1, see for yourself."

Talent fumbles with the remote for a second before putting on the District 1 reapings, and to her surprise the bartender is right. Everyone in District 1 looks shocked when someone named Arcon Assage volunteers.

"Told ya, careers are gonna need a lot of luck this year."

"Not with me in the pack, besides he looks… strong."

"Ha, you're not fooling anyone. I see right through that facade you put up. You're nothing but a little girl who wants to play with the big fish. Have fun dying kid, I'll enjoy every second of- AY don't drop the-"

CRASH

Talent feels a tear drip down her cheek. She turns and heads for the exit towards the back of the train. She needs a nap.

As she lays down in the most comfortable bed she's ever been in, she quietly says to nobody, "you're wrong, everyone is. You know nothing about me."

As Talent drifts to sleep, the last thing on her mind is her hit list, which has just grown in size by one.

Nobody crosses her and gets away with it. It's her biggest flaw, and she knows that one day, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for many years, but eventually it will be her downfall.

Cream Ledusalla, 18

D1F

I feel the shadows hanging over

They're waiting to come closer, to come and take me away

And I can feel my heart skip

Everytime that I slip I wanna run away

"Hey, I'm Arcon, nice to meet you!"

This was not how her games were meant to go.

Cream knows who the chosen volunteer was meant to be. He is incredibly skilled in a fight, smart, and stronger than the diamonds their district is based on, but this guy has got to be everything except those attributes.

"Hello there, Arcon," she grits her teeth, "may you please explain to me why you volunteered?"

She watches and listens as the tall and bulky boy goes on a spiel about how he needs to redeem himself for ruining his reputation and any chances he had of making it big in baseball. He apparently attacked an opponent, an action that is unfathomable to Cream.

'This guy has to be delusional,' she thinks to herself.

Cream pinches her nose in frustration as she talks to fellow care… District partner.

"So you're telling me," she says, irritation dripping in her voice, "that you decided to volunteer for the Hunger Games without any training for the slight chance of making it big and not dying? Are you mentally ill? Have you ever held a weapon before?"

"I can swing a bat pretty well does that count?"

'What the fuck is wrong with this kid?'

As she thinks that, another thought crosses her mind.

"What did your parents think? Did you even tell them you were going to?"

A smug smirk shines bright on Arcon's face, "my dad said he was proud of me, and my family supported my decision fully."

She sighs, "then they're just as delusional as you are. I'm going to watch some film and sleep. If I was you, I would talk to Price over there," she gestures towards the man across the room who might as well have steam coming out his ears to go along with a red face from Arcon's stunt, "in case you weren't aware that's our mentor. Maybe you could learn some things. I'd tread carefully though, he isn't exactly fond of you."

Arcon nods, "hopefully he understands that I'm just as good as any career he could've gotten."

Cream laughs somberly, "look dude, I'm gonna try and be as nice to you as possible, but if you keep saying things like that, I'm going to lose it. Also, don't expect us to be buddy-buddy any time soon, you fucked up. Hopefully, you can understand that before you do something that gets yourself killed."

With that, Cream turns away without a word and heads for a private room, but not before passing through a host of other train cars.

'This place is fucking awesome,' she thinks to herself, a toothy grin plastered on her face. Every car has a buffet cart with a huge variety of sweets, delicacies, and beverages.

Cream grins wildly and says aloud, "the only thing that would make this place better is-"

Before she can finish, her mouth falls agape, and some drool drips down her chin. In front of her is a frozen yogurt machine with a ton of topping options. She starts giggling in excitement and sprints for the cups.

They only have vanilla, but it's no matter to Cream. She watches as the delicious cold treat fills her cup to the brim in a satisfying swirl. Honestly, the satisfaction from watching the frozen yogurt fill her cup might be better than the dessert itself.

Cream ponders that thought for a split second before releasing a bubbly laugh.

Making her way to the toppings, she scans the full selection before making her choices. Gummy sharks are an obvious one, she loves the sea more than anything and once dreamt of being a marine biologist just like her father.

She frowns, 'so much for that,' as she surrounds her mound of yogurt with multi-colored gummy sharks. That thought makes her think of her childhood, which evokes an even stronger frown onto her face. Here she is, devouring sweets just weeks before going into a death battle. No matter how much she wants to do it, she knows it isn't worth potentially ruining her chances of not dying. What if eating this yogurt causes her to be one step slower in the games? It might get her killed.

She tosses the cup of sweetness into the trash, just like how she might be throwing away her life in these games. Sometimes she wishes Oracion told her to go away, then she would have never started down this path she is on, this path she is bound contractually into.

Long ago, an obese little girl made a deal with the devil, and the devil is knocking to collect his dues. The only thing standing between Cream and him is the Hunger Games.

Cream may have busted her ass to get to this point, but she still doesn't know where the endpoint is.

Even she isn't smart enough to answer that, nobody is, and nobody ever will.

With those depressing thoughts breaking her spirit for the day, Cream hits the hay and drifts off into the eternal darkness until the next day.

She wonders when the darkness will no longer be a choice.

Sheldon Dillishaw, 18

D4M

Day and night

I toss and turn, I keep stressing my mind, mind

I look for peace but see I don't attain

What I need for keeps this silly game we play, play

Sheldon collapses onto the queen-sized bed as the door shuts behind him. His day has been nothing but a never-ending bundle of stress that can only be quenched with a smoke. Binge eating wasn't doing it for him right now, he needs something stronger to take away the edge. Thankfully, the security on the train is incredibly lax when it comes to searches, so it didn't take much effort to sneak some weed on board.

Reaching into his pants and under the elastic of his boxers, he pulls out a small baggie with five joints crammed sloppily inside it along with some matches. It wasn't pretty, but it would do.

"Sometimes, you gotta do what you gotta do," he says aloud to nobody but himself.

Grabbing a joint and match, Sheldon thinks about the strategy session earlier. He has known of Olive for many years at the academy and always thought of her as a chill, down to earth kind of girl. That being said, it definitely seems like something is off about her. Not in a bad way necessarily, Sheldon can just tell she doesn't exactly want to be here. Now that he thinks about it, Sheldon can't remember much about Olive at all. Back at the academy in District 4, she was always just sort of there.

Taking the match in hand, Sheldon searches the room for something to strike it on. His eyes land on the steel frame of his bed. With one swift flick of his wrist, the match burns brightly. The flame flickers against the tip of his fingers as he carefully guides it to the joint already between his lips. The tip of the rolled-up paper turns red, and he inhales, taking in the sweet, sweet smoke. Sheldon can feel the smoke build-up in his lungs, before removing the joint and exhaling deeply.

Sheldon waves the match to put it out as the flame starts to burn his fingertips and throws it in the trash. He stretches his large 6'3 frame across the bed and sinks into the soft mattress. He sighs deeply and ponders over life, especially how he got to this point in his.

In just four days, Sheldon will be fighting for his life.

'Might as well make the most of the time I have,' he thinks, taking another hit from the joint.

Right as the euphoria of his high begins to course through him, someone knocks at his door.

"Sheldon? Are you in there?"

It's Olive, and for a second, Sheldon panics. What will they do to him if he gets caught smoking on the train?

He laughs lowly, and thinks to himself, 'nothing as bad as throwing me into a death game with 23 other kids'.

Sheldon answers the girl, "yea I'm in here, what do you need?"

"Can I come in?"

"Go for it," Sheldon replies, taking another hit.

The door opens and Olive walks in, "so I wanted to talk some more abou- what are you doing?"

He exhales the smoke and blows it right into Olive's face. She starts coughing and waving her hand in front of her.

Getting a sniff of the air, Olive asks, "is that weed?"

"Yea, why?"

"Are you allowed to have that here," she asks, doing a double-take to make sure nobody is watching and closing the door behind her, "what if you get in trouble?"

Sheldon huffs, "who cares? Here, I have some more if you want some. Might calm you down before we have to really get down to business."

Olive scoffs and replies loudly, "no thank you, and we should already be getting 'down to business', this is the Hunger Games, remember? Not a weekend vacation."

"Well, that's too bad, maybe another time. If you aren't gonna smoke with me could you leave? You're kinda ruining my vibe right now."

Olive closes her eyes in frustration, "you know what? Fine, have this, but just know that when the careers have to elect a leader, you will not be getting my vote."

As Olive turns to walk away, Sheldon snickers and says, "good thing I don't wanna be the leader."

Olive looks surprised, "really? I thought you'd be all over that based on what I heard about you from the academy."

"Well, maybe. I guess it depends on the others, but ideally, I don't want that responsibility, too stressful. Hey, before you leave I want your thoughts on this. What if the Capitol, hear me out alright, is actually cannibalistic, and the only food they get is from the dead tributes in the Hunger Games?"

Olive gags, "alright, that's it, I'm out."

"See ya Olive, have fun doing whatever. Looking forward to-"

She flicks him off before the door slams.

"...working with you."

Sheldon rolls his eyes and takes another hit. At this point, the euphoria is beginning to take over, and Sheldon can feel his whole body sinking deeper and deeper into the mattress.

The smoky wisps from the end of his joint dance in the air, waltzing with the cold breeze of the air conditioning. Sheldon's eyes begin to close gently, and he lets them shut tight.

*Taps microphone* Uhhhh... does this thing still work?

What's up everyone? Been a while, like, way too long. Sorry about that, I got really busy with my first semester of college plus a whole bunch of other stuff. All that matters is I'm back!

I hope all of you enjoyed that chapter! Thank you so much for sticking with me all this time, it means a lot! A special thanks to A Proud Bibliophile for Corrine, Carrot Lord for Talent, Manny Siliezar for Cream, and Tyquavis for Sheldon! It may not seem like it because of how long it took, but I really did enjoy writing these characters and their interactions!

Next up (and hopefully coming much sooner) is the tributes' Physical Evaluations and the Venture Test! This isn't typical for an SYOT, but I think it'll be a good way to show off some of these characters to the fullest!

Lastly, I'd like to hear all of your thoughts on this chapter! Any of these tributes stand out from the bunch? Any with victor potential? What do you think of the career pack? I'm interested to hear what you guys have to say!

Thank you so much for reading! See you all in the next chapter!