That dreaded clicking sound filled my ears and sent a rush of ice through my body. It bounced off the walls in the darkened room like a bullet. Dozens of terrifying clicks sounding as one. I couldn't see anything. Just a blanket of black and I wasn't even sure what...thing was emitting the clicks.

My ears strained to hear anything. A footstep or a sigh but that clicking was all they would pick up. The harder I tried to push past the sound, the more the knot of stress in my stomach seemed to grow. It was steady with a beat that never veried or changed. A sound that burrowed into my skull and threatened to drive me insane if I heard any more of it. Every time it paused for a second, another one clicked in the distance. A chorus of never ending clicks.

Two weeks earlier…..

Ezra Arlington, Victor of 65th Hunger Games and District One Mentor.

I had never seen a boy as weak as Onyx come from One. Hospitalised for the first decade of his life, the boy was short, scrawny, with poor eyesight and terrible Asthma. He wasn't the poster boy for a District One Tribute. Thin black hair, milky white skin, small sunken eyes with thick, black rimmed glasses. He had been healthy for the past eight years but the traumatic effects of his childhood still lingered in his physical appearance. He would have never made it into the academy back in One. Then again, I wasn't sure he would have made it out of childhood if he had not been chosen for the program. Kids like him sink into a permanent state of sickness until their body gave in. Unable to stomach food, water or even being awake. Onyx was just like that when chosen. Carried to the stage by a Peacekeeper where he lay still. Skin and bones.

It was for this reason I had not payed him much attention until recently. It may have been cruel but the way I saw it, what was the point of getting attached to a child who was going to die either way? They even had another child lined up in case he didn't pull through. Yet somehow he lived which had given the boy a slight arrogance towards the games. He had defined the odds once, whose to say he wouldn't again?

"You're not hitting them with enough force," I said dryly, watching as the boy swung his axe at the dummy. "The longer a wound takes to kill someone, the more likely you are to loose your advantage!" I moved towards the boy, running my finger through the wound he had created. It would be fatal. Eventually. But it left enough time for them to fight back. I knew myself how dangerous someone who had nothing left to loose could be.

"Try again," I sighed moving back. The boy gave a small nod and eye role as he repositioned himself. With a war cry of some kind, he leaped into the air and brought the axe down across his chest. The sound of the impact echoed through the training hall and the dummy rocked back, the now lodge axe being pulled free from his hands. He watched as the dummy flung forward, showering him in bit of replica flesh.

I moved forward one again and looked into the wound. The dummy was made from real human flesh and insides, grown within a lab by some mad Capitol scientist. It was a bit too realistic but the kids had grown up with them. It was always more traumatic for me than them. The axe had become stuck within the ribs and the lungs below. With a grunt, I pulled it free, thankful that they had no included the unnecessary addition of blood.

"Looks like a I killed it," Onyx grinned smugly, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"There was no need for the razzle dazzle-"

"He killed it, let the kid be," Quartz hummed as he took a drag of a freshly lit cigarette, golden lighter in his spare hand The boy was eighteen, winner of the previous games. He was the same age as Onyx. Cascading blonde curls, sharp and handsome features. Aside from his height, he was the perfect Tribute. I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he had been chosen ten years ago instead of Onyx.

As I was drafted mentoring the kids for the past ten years, I had only recently met him myself. As a new mentor, he was to accompany me in training Onyx and Vermeil for the final two weeks. I wasn't sure why. I had done a fairly decent job by myself for ten years.

"If killing was enough to win the Games, then we'd have a lot more Victors...you should know that," I grumbled at the boy.

"I don't know…killing did me no harm," he said with that shit eating side smirk of his. His inability to go an hour without mentioning that he had the highest kill count ever was the only thing I hated more than his smoking. Disgusting habit really. "Plus, putting on a show is what gets sponsors," he flipped open his lighter and gestured to the gamemakers who sat in the balcony above. The group of them where focused on Onyx but their laughs and side jabs assured me it was not out of awe. Yet as I looked at Onyx, I didn't have in me to destroyed his self-esteem further.

I turned away from him and back to Onyx. "You need to survive aswell. Jumping into the air is stupid. If they move, you could stumble and in those seconds, you open yourself up to a counter attack. You could twist your ankle. Even the smallest wound can cause death if you are not careful." Quartz gave a small nod of agreement as he blew a cloud of smoke into the air.

"I know," Onyx grumbled. "I'm not really good at stealth."

"You're short enough...use that to your advantage-"

"Height isn't the issue. He's just too eager to get into the fight. Vermeil manages it just fine."

"Is that the other Tribute?" Quartz asked. I gave a nod. "Where is she?"

I opened my mouth to speak when a metallic clink caused Quartz to let out a small shriek. His blue eyes moved to the lighter now on the floor with an Arrow piercing through the body. The three of us glanced up to the replica tree above us where a girl with golden blonde curls smiled down at us.

"Pleasure to meet you," she said cheerfully. Quartz smiled. Vermeil already had another arrow in place, just like I had told her.

"You're a good shot." Vermeil vanished once more and Quartz turned to me and Onyx. "She's a good shot."

That she is. I thought to myself. When Onyx was in the hospital, I spent all my energy teaching my only present Tribute, Vermeil, archery. Ten years, spending everyday shooting arrows and mentored by me? She might just be the best the Games have ever seen archery wise. Then my smile dropped as I turned to Onyx. She might be the best the Games had ever seen but I was far from confident she'd make it home. I did worry at times it was too obvious how much I favoured Vermeil. That she was who I wanted to make it home out of the pair. I guess I cared for Onyx too but our bonding time had been shorter and I couldn't help but look at him as a dead boy walking.

"She must like you!" Onyx said through a laugh as he took his axe from me.

"Why?" Quartz asked, only now realising his lighter was rendered useless as he pulled the arrow free.

"She didn't aim for you."

So that's Ezra and a little introduction of Vermeil Fellows, Onyx Richie, and Quartz Nicholls.

As you can tell, I'm going backwards through my universe Victor's so next we will have Belinda Herd with a short appearance from our District 10 Tributes. I will only be focusing on Victor's that have won my past SYOTs. The other Mentors will be mentioned in POVs or even have their own later in the story.

Also, I'm going to do a small thing. I'll give a free sponsor gift of your choice to any Tribute in the story if you can tell me this:

-What is the story theme? (Its based off something)

-What is the significance of the year? (Hint: It's connected to the theme)

Take as many attempts as you like but if you get both right, you'll only get one sponsor gift. I'd like to give rewards to two people. Also tell me via PM to keep it a secret for those who would rather not know.

Until next time!