Lancaster Percy from District 2
Victor of the Sixth Annual Hunger Games

District 1 saw him as a fierce rival.

By the time the sixth annual Hunger Games rolled around, the career districts were in full swing. It was true that children in District 2 had always been training for the games, but this year the first academies in Districts 1 and 2 were officially established. From now on, only the strongest academy students would be awarded the spot of volunteer.

The tributes of 1, Jewel and Garnet, watched with bitter rivalry as Lancaster Percy stepped up to the stage. This young man would most certainly put up some fierce competition in the arena. He was big and strong and the look in his eyes told you he knew twenty ways to kill you with a sword.

"He looks familiar," Garnet remarked.

Jewel fidgeted anxiously with her hair, trying to place a memory on Lancaster's brutish face. "Wasn't he on TV when we were kids?

Garnet sighed. "Yeah. His dad was some war hero."

Jewel examined his features, remembering the television broadcast from the Dark Days. Already, this kid from 2 had the Capitol on his side. That was a huge advantage. Even though Jewel and Garnet were trained, they'd be hard-pressed to outlast such a beloved tribute in the arena.

"He probably can't even use a sword. He just kissed the Capitol's ass long enough to earn himself the spot of volunteer." Garnet grabbed a pillow and stroked the soft green material, thinking about the victor's crown and what it would take to earn it. "You don't really have to be the strongest tribute to win the games. You just have to be the most memorable."

"Well, he isn't exactly a toothpick," Jewel conceded.

"We wouldn't have gone to the academy if strength didn't help."

"Touché."

District 2 saw him as a powerful fighter with a great chance of winning.

Naturally, eyebrows were raised in the masonry district when the academy officially opened its doors. How would it find the money to maintain itself? Who would train the students? Were there really enough children willing to risk their lives every year for the glory of victory? Given the fact the entire thing wasn't exactly legal, more than just a few District 2 residents had burning questions.

It quickly became apparent that the Capitol itself was secretly funding the academy. They didn't even try to hide it. With thousands and thousands of dollars pouring out of nowhere, it was the most blatant display of favoritism the president had ever shown the districts of Panem.

His message was clear. I'll keep you well-fed if you keep us entertained in return. Never mind the starving kids in 11 and 12.

Given District 2's enormous military importance to the Capitol, the process of selecting the volunteers was even more convoluted than in District 1. President Cornelius required that each of the tributes be recognizable names; it was important for the academy to establish a reputation for itself as quickly as possible.

And so Lancaster Percy, the son of one of the Capitol's most loyal soldiers, was chosen. Alongside him was Augusta Dale, the daughter of a member of the Hunger Games development board. Perhaps the volunteer system was invented for the sole purpose of allowing career tributes to enter the games; it looked a bit suspicious to have the specially-trained tributes reaped "by chance" year after year.

An hour after the reaping, Lancaster and Augusta stepped onto the train. They were immediately greeted by the most famous person in District 2.

"Tyrell. Nice to meet you," Lancaster said formally, shaking his hand.

It was hard to read Tyrell's expression. Being required to mentor two kids each year was clearly not his cup of tea. "Congratulations," he choked out as he helped the tributes to their seats.

"Any advice you'd like to give us right away?" Augusta asked.

Tyrell's eyes narrowed. "Let's introduce ourselves first."

"We already know who you are," she said impatiently.

"No, you don't. Nobody does."

That shut her up.

Lancaster figured getting on their mentor's bad side was not the best way to go about this. "Is there something you want to tell us?" he murmured, trying to sound polite.

Tyrell's voice dropped darkly. "You will never escape that arena."

"What?"

"You heard me right. Nobody ever leaves. Nobody."

"You did."

"A piece of me died there that I'll never get back."

Lancaster watched curiously as Tyrell grabbed a plate of ice cream. What a funny man the victor of the third Hunger Games was.

District 3 saw him as a nice boy who'd been twisted and manipulated by the Capitol.

"Can I sit with you?" Jax asked, watching his district partner Lexie munch on a piece of bread.

"Sure," she said shortly, making room for him on the thin bench. She hadn't been expecting company. The work in District 3 was solitary and that was how she liked it. But Jax was a good companion.

As the pair from 3 ate together, they chatted quietly about the other tributes. Jewel, Garnet, Lancaster, and Augusta – the careers – eating together like a pack of wolves. The pair from 7 whispering into one another's ears. But a lot of the tributes were eating alone. And, given their situation, no one could blame them for not being sociable.

"You know what?" Lexie asked as she and Jax nervously eyed the careers.

"What?"

"I wonder what those careers were like before. Before they went to the academy. Before they were conditioned to kill."

Jax thought about that for a while. "I doubt they were ever innocent. District 2 have always been the Capitol's lapdogs. And don't forget what Lancaster's dad did during the rebellion. Something with napalm?"

Lexie remembered now. Lancaster's father was one of the pilots who scattered napalm; the extremely flammable substance that scorched away entire cities and forests. She remembered fearfully watching it on television – leaves dissolving into smoke, mighty wooden structures burning away like paper houses.

"It's terrifying what people in power can make each other do," Lexie said at last, eying the careers.

She could already hear the sound of the horn, somewhere far in the distance.

District 4 saw him as a mysterious character, both allured and intimidated by his strength.

It would be several years before District 4 established academies for its children, joining the ranks of Districts 1 and 2. However, tributes from 4 had an advantage even before it was a career district. They were strong from work and well-fed off the rich seaside diet.

The moment the boy from 4, Trident, saw Lancaster from 2, he knew that he could trust him.

"We can't trust him," said Brooke, his district partner.

"He would defend us with his life." Trident's rose-colored glasses made him see everyone as a friend. Brooke was much less trusting. It had kept her alive in the stinky markets of 4.

"He'd kill us as soon as he were useless to him," she said.

"We should talk to him."

"Yeah, and get killed."

For a while, they watched Lancaster from the opposite end of the training center. The boy who, without a doubt, could kill any other tribute without much difficulty. The boy who was so famous already in the Capitol that he had thousands of pairs of eyes trained on him.

Trident realized what Brooke meant. "That's a guy who uses everything to his advantage. He'd use us."

Brooke sighed. "Glad you're seeing straight. Now let's go to the survival stations. I'm itching to build a fire."

District 5 saw him as a tool.

The twenty-four tributes of varying sizes and skin tones were standing in the middle of an enormous jungle. This was much more dangerous than the plain forest used in prior games. The undergrowth was so thick that it was nearly impossible to travel without making a racket. Mockingjays, butterflies, and other colorful butterflies loomed in the trees.

One boy, Dean from 5, glanced terrifyingly back and forth, wondering which way to travel. Did he pounce into the bloodbath, where one wrong move could mean death? Or did he run away, taking his chances with what he could find in the arena?

He had no mentor to give him advice (it would take several more years for that tradition to be established), only a stupid prep team who told him to do what he "felt in his heart". As a swarm of colorful birds soared past, images of the women's bright and feathery clothing came to mind.

Here's what I'll do, Dean told himself, hammering each word into his brain. When the horn sounds, I'll use that boy from 2 – Lancaster – as a tool. A tool to get supplies. Wherever he leaves carnage behind, I'll sweep down and grab whatever I can. That way I'll always be behind him.

The plan didn't work out very well; he'd forgotten to take the other careers into account. Within a single minute, he was dead, with Garnet's spear and Augusta's arrows planted firmly in the back of his neck.

District 6 saw him as a dangerous threat.

Steele and Vida, the tributes from the district of transportation, moved slowly through the jungle. They were paranoid that every step would spring a hidden trap. Any moment, the gameamkers would sicc some deadly threat onto their tails. And if that happened, they would be defenseless.

Besides, their minds were elsewhere: back at the cornucopia, where they'd seen Lancaster murder five tributes in the first three minutes of the games.

"I can't stop thinking about – you know," Steele said, forcing his way through the dense undergrowth.

"About the careers?" Vida asked. Steele nodded in affirmation. "Probably best not to think about them for now."

It sounded like she was trying to convince herself of something. Which she was. They were both terrified.

"It's not so much the fact they're strong. It's the fact they band together. The fact they hunt in – what's the word – a pack."

Vida considered this for a while. "Yeah, it's pretty freaky."

Truthfully, only three of the careers had survived the bloodbath; Jewel from 1 died when the strong pair from 7 beat her to death with a big black suitcase containing loaves of bread.

"My turn with the weapon," Steele said, taking the only knife the duo possessed and slipping it into his pocket. Vida gasped a little as the blade was taken from her, but conceded.

Even with the help of the knife, they were easy targets. The ravenous monkey mutts pounced out of the trees – dozens of them, far too many to count – and the weapon may as well have been a twig.

District 7 saw him as a target.

"The boy from 2 has to die, and it won't be easy," Aspen grunted. "It's the only way we're making it out of here."

We was a euphemism for I.

Leila fingered the wooden blade of her hatchet, floored by Aspen's ambition. "It's only the third day, Aspen," she said. "We can hunt him down later."

"Once he's killed half the tributes and made himself undefeatable?"

"We'll never reach then if we die from dehydration today or tomorrow!"

The second the words escaped her mouth, they were unignorable. The pain of dehydration burned at their throats like live electricity. Leila's head pounded so hard that the entire world seemed to shake. She was right, and Aspen was just in denial. Natural water seemed almost impossible to find. The day prior, they stopped at a small crystal-clear lake. They thought they'd always be able to find their way back to it. But they were wrong. The jungle all looked the same.

Leila remembered something she'd read when she was younger. Follow the greenery toward water.

Aspen put his hands on his hips, groaning in anger. "Everything here is green!"

"Then we should go downhill. That's where…"

"There was a lake." The realization hit him like a brick. "Beyond the horn, past the careers, I saw something. A flash of water, or something else maybe."

"No, it was water," Leila said. "I remember. They want us to keep going back to the center of the arena. Where the careers are scoping out the trees for victims."

"Well, we all want this over as soon as possible. Let's start heading back."

Leila hesitated. "And then what? And then we get killed?"

"And then we don't die from dehydration, Leila. And then we can deal with Lancaster later."

The tone of his voice told her that the matter was closed. And Aspen wasn't stupid either – he was right about the gamemakers' intentions. The very next day, the girl from 5 was drawn back to the water, so thirsty that her entire body was throbbing with agony. Of course, the careers were waiting for her. Lancaster charged first, with his allies trailing close behind. Her family covered their ears so they couldn't hear her cannon firing on the television.

Districts 8 and 9 didn't see him at all. The tributes were dead before they knew what had hit them.

District 10 saw him as a heartless monster.

Two weeks into the games, nineteen tributes were dead, with Lancaster and four other tributes vying for victory. There was Garnet from 1, Brooke from 4, and the Aspen-Leila duo from 7. The residents of 10 had watched with horror the day prior as he killed their female tribute, ruthlessly slashing open her neck with his deadly weapon.

When an animal gets rabies in District 10, it's killed instantly. No questions, no exceptions. It is too dangerous to be left alive. Because if it bites a person, there's virtually no chance adequate medical attention will be available. And if it bites other animals, well – disease spreads fast in the close quarters of District 10.

That's what they were reminded of as they watched Lancaster Percy grace the screen in the most terrifying way possible. Surely, this could not be real. Surely, it was just a fluke that such a powerful tribute had made his way into the games.

But it wasn't a fluke. In every single year to come, the wealthiest districts would be given the most horrifying of advantages. And District 10's tributes would be left in the dust, doomed to die from starvation or thirst if they even survived the bloodbath.

They quickly nicknamed the arena the Slaughterhouse. The place where animals go to die.

Against their wishes, time continued to pass, and Lancaster continued to fight. He knocked off Garnet from 1 in a fierce duel that left him bloody and gasping for relief from the pain. Fortunately, his district partner Augusta had taught him a thing or two about natural remedies before she met her end. The other tributes, from 4 and 7, were preparing feverishly for the finale, but Lancaster was healing and on the move and he was still an incredibly deadly threat.

Two days later, burning-hot lava flowed into the arena on all sides, forcibly flushing the tributes toward the cornucopia. This was the largest natural threat the gamemakers had ever unleashed. As the forest went up in smoke, the tributes ran for their lives, desperate to reach the horn and evade the spreading lava.

Brooke died when a toppled tree crushed her like a rolling pin. The allied tributes from 7 met up with Lancaster at the cornucopia, but they were no match for the boy from District 2. He had them bruised and bloodied within seconds. Their cannons fired, and Lancaster was crowed victor, grinning from ear to ear.

Districts 11 and 12 saw him as a man worthy of death.

A small uprising broke out in 11 a month after the games ended, but the Capitol beat them down like blades of grass in a heavy wind. The citizens of 12 similarly revolted, and a small coal warehouse burned down, putting dozens of people out of their jobs. The Capitol claimed the fire was caused naturally, but that fooled nobody.

In due time, all twelve districts were forced to accept the Hunger Games as merely a fact of life in Panem. One day a year, parents held their children close, praying they would not be chosen. The rest of the year, it was all they could do to try and forget.

The Capitol's message was clear: This is more than just your punishment. This is your doom. We have the power to kill all of you, and if you speak a single word in protest, we'll obliterate you. We'll obliterate you like District 13. We'll obliterate you like we do twenty-three of your children every single year. And there's nothing you can do to stop it.

Every once in a while, a district would rebel. But they were back to work within a week. The vicious cycle of Panem seemed truly inescapable.

The Capitol saw him as an icon, a celebrity, a truly remarkable victor.

"I'm going to ask you the question I ask every victor who ever leaves that arena," Caius warned. "How did you do it?"

The audience held its breath, anxiously awaiting Lancaster's response.

"I fought as bravely and loyally as I know the Capitol would fight for me."

In his faraway office, President Cornelius smiled a little to himself, taking a sip of his fiery whiskey. This kid was alright.

"What a remarkable sentiment," Caius exclaimed. "Tell me, Lancaster, what was your favorite part of the jungle?"

He thought about it for a second. "I loved the food."

"What kind of food?"

"The fruit. The fish."

So there had been fish in that lake after all.

Caius grinned. "And how are you enjoying the Capitol?"

"Oh, I just love it," he cried out, laying the flattery thick. "The food's great, the rooms are great. I can't wait to come back here every year."

"That's great to hear, great to hear. I think every citizen of Panem deserves to see the Capitol at least once in their lifetime."

Many of them did, just not in the way they hoped.

Lancaster nodded in approval, speaking more clearly than could be expected from a kid who'd just survived the games. "It's fantastic here, for sure. But, truth be told, I'm pretty excited to go home."

"Got anyone special at home?"

"Just my parents and my brother. We're a great team."

"How sweet. What do you say we have you on air some time next month? I've got a segment covering the games that you're sure to love. I'd love to have you back."

"It would be my pleasure," Lancaster chirped.

The Capitol screamed in joy.

The career districts narrowed their eyes in fierce competition.

The middle districts stared at their televisions with wide, tired eyes.

The outlying districts all hugged their children.

This was Panem. These were the Hunger Games. And in only six years, they'd already changed so much. Only time would tell how the games would continue to evolve as the years passed.

List of Victors

District 1 (1 Victor): Luxor Dodge (1st)

District 2 (2 Victors): Tyrell Crowley (3rd), Lancaster Percy (6th)

District 3 (0 Victors):

District 4 (0 Victors):

District 5 (1 Victor): Electra Wilty (4th)

District 6 (0 Victors):

District 7 (1 Victor): Rowan Dobson (2nd)

District 8 (0 Victors):

District 9 (0 Victors):

District 10 (0 Victors):

District 11 (1 Victor): Bluebell Singer (5th)

District 12 (0 Victors):