Margo Caspian, District Two
As the platforms rose I was alive with nerves. So much adrenaline was pumping through my veins that everything seemed to vibrate. The light of the sun seared my eyes after the darkness of the tubes. The Arena seemed bleached under it. All around me there were other Tributes, their faces and trembling forms mirroring mine. The countdown stretched on, each fraction exponentially outlasting the portion before it. It unwound like a coiled wire stretched to its limit. When the Games began I ran.
Hermes was my first kill. I ran toward him with as much instinct as malice. He tried to flee and some animalistic impulse took over. My vision tunneled around him as I ran after him, my feet pounding against the ground, dirt and debris flying up as I sprinted. Urgency shaved my world down into a single target and a single goal. I leaped upon him like a tiger, tearing at him with fists and teeth. I didn't realize until moments later that I was holding a sword. I stuck it through him and his life vanished like a snapped thread. I crouched over him, panting, and saw what I'd done. I realized that I didn't regret it. I gloried in it.
There are impulses in humans that are repressed by society- primal urges that served us well in ancient days but were rendered obsolete by the advancement of civilization. The need to find and harvest food was buried in modern Panem. We went to stores and bought prepackaged food instead of going into an unforgiving world full of our own predators to stalk and kill prey. In the Arena I rapidly came to see that something long-taboo was once again permissible. I felt fulfilled and awakened in a way I never had in my life.
I hadn't smiled so much in years. Each I stalked the Arena I reveled in the savagery. There were no rules here. No laws or moral codes. It was the jungle. It was free. Unrestrained. Your fate left to nothing but your own strength. Everything stripped down to life and death. The Arena stood out in stark color and harsh lines. Each sound was an urgent warning of either potential danger or potential prey. It was life at its most vibrant.
Man is the most dangerous game. I'd never read the story but that line echoed throughout generations. I wasn't just hunting a creature that wanted to stay alive. I was hunting a beast that could attack me back and was even capable of planning and thought. Each of my victims was won only with cunning, strength, and valor. I saluted each of them in their efforts, so much like mine, to stay alive. Ryker. Ben. Sky. Asper. Each of them clever in their own ways and bested only by a strategy used only for them. They were dangerous game. The only difference between them and me was who prevailed.
It pleased me, upon killing Asper, to reflect that my last opponent was Jay. Jay was strong. It would be a hunt worth remembering. And so it was. I tracked him for days, thrilling whenever I saw evidence of his presence. I ducked behind cover upon fleeting sightings of my quarry ahead of me. At last I reached him. I waited, crouched behind the gutted shell of a car, for him to venture from his hiding place. When he reached an open clearing, I ran at him.
Jay reacted quickly when he saw me. He jerked his head around, looking for cover, and saw that I would reach him before he could escape me. He whirled to face me and I smiled when I saw he'd been sponsored a spear. I reached him and we clashed like tigers. I dug my heels into the carpet of garbage as Jay tried to throw me back. I met him strength-for-strength. We grappled until I threw an elbow, hitting him in the face. He dodged my follow-up blow and sent his fist into my face. I shrugged off the impact and pain. All the better to bring home the reality of it all. Hunting wasn't walking to the store to pick up a package of dead meat. Hunting was grappling with your prey and bearing the scars of its defense.
I leaned back and slashed upwards with my sword. The blade sliced across Jay's chest, sending a mist of lovely blood up into the air. He reeled back, exposing his body in his pain and surprise. I swung again and again, opening more cuts that brought the hunt closer to completion. He fell as I continued to swing. I screamed, overwhelmed by adrenaline and exultation, as I cut the life from his body. I screamed like a primal hunter bringing down food for her tribe. Later, when I watched the recap, it looked like I was smiling.