Well, I'm back… I'm sorry for the long wait! I've been very busy and I was working on this one story for months and getting nowhere so I decided to abandon it and start out on a completely new AU. If you're familiar with my usual characters, I hope you like the direction I'll take them in. It'll be very different to what I did in From The Ashes. And if you're new to my stories and you haven't encountered any of my characters before… this chapter is going to give a terrible first impression.

*evil laughter* I've missed being an evil author. Anyway, here's Coriolanus Snow.

Coriolanus

When Fawkes Chau slits his district partner's throat, I realised what I liked about him.

And why Seneca was right. The boy needs to die.

All through the games, Seneca Crane has been whining to me about the smirking pretty-boy from District 3 who seemed to upstage him at every opportunity. Seneca had put so much effort into creating a haunted house arena and countless hazards to terrify the tributes and then Chau waltzed in and started doing it himself, using some voodoo dolls to drive the careers crazy. Even worse, Seneca himself had specifically picked Chau out of a lineup to be rigged into the games.

Under normal circumstances, I would've probably allowed Seneca to send a mutt after the boy on day one. In fact, I would've probably encouraged him to do so. But, for the first five days of the games, I'd been fixated on poisoning my wayward grandson, and I'd needed two strong tributes from District 3 in the arena, alive and kicking, in order to distract a certain mentor from my plot. I was forced to keep Fawkes Chau alive for five days and, over those five days, I found I had a grudging respect for the boy. He was far smarter than I thought he'd be.

Maybe I'd even hoped he'd win. After all, he's the most handsome tribute in the arena. I could make a fortune from selling his body. Plus it would keep Chau from getting too arrogant to control.

But now I watch him draw a knife across Binah Katayanagi's throat and recognise the coldness in his eyes. I see something in those eyes that I couldn't quite put a name to at first. But now I see it, like a shark's fin growing ever closer. I see ruthless ambition. I see this will to get ahead even at the cost of others. Fawkes Chau will do anything to get what he wants. He is not a vapid pretty-boy with no desire to succeed. He is not a plucky, determined outlier underdog. He is a district traitor, a puppet master. He'll smile at people and then stab them in the back.

Or poison them…

He reminds me of himself. He could be a young Coriolanus Snow.

Which is what scares me.

I'm not the only one who's scared. There's a scream from the TV speaker as Ernest Curtain, Chau's other ally wakes up to the sound of a cannon. For a moment, the two boys stare at each other. One is tall, healthy, barely nineteen and holding a bloodstained knife. The other one is a small twelve-year-old with a clubbed foot, armed with nothing but guilt. But guilt is a powerful weapon. Curtain is the first to move, scrambling backwards. But he's cornered, stuck in a secret lab in the basement of a haunted house arena. Soon his back is against a cabinet.

"Please!" Curtain begs. "Don't kill me. I don't want to die."

I wonder how much of Curtain's fear is real and how much is an act. He's been acting like an innocent little kid for most of the games but I've noticed the way he watched his allies, like he was trying to figure out the right moment to kill them.

Unfortunately for him, one of his allies was doing the same thing and decided to strike first.

"Neither do I," Chau says, walking towards his opponent. "I'm sorry."

He stabs the knife towards Curtain's throat. Curtain leans to the side so the knife grazes the side of his neck and plunges into the cabinet. Chau swears to himself and struggles to pull his knife free.

"Can you just hold still?" Chau asks. "I want to make it quick."

"What's wrong?" Curtain asks, grey eyes blazing with anger and pain. "Not enjoying killing the helpless kid?"

He reaches out blindly for a weapon and his hand closes around an empty glass beaker. Desperate, he smashes it against the side of the cabinet and stabs the shards towards the back of Chau's leg. Unfortunately for Curtain, Chau seems to realise what he's planning and kicks him hard in the stomach before he can draw blood. Curtain slumps back against the cabinet, winded.

"The thing is," Chau says, pulling his knife free, "You're not that helpless. What were you aiming for, Ernest? My Achilles' tendon or my… uh… you know that artery thingy in the back of the leg. Shit, I should've paid more attention in biology."

"For fuck's sake, Fawkes, can you just shut up, for once in your worthless life!" Curtain yells. Either he's realised there's no point keeping up the innocent twelve-year-old act or he's been pushed past his limit by Chau's relentless chatter.

He makes one last desperate attempt to stab Chau in the leg but Chau kicks the glass out of his hand and plunges the knife into his chest.

"I…" Chau says, shakily. "I talk more when I'm scared."

"You're scared?" Curtain chokes out. His grey eyes are accusing. A cannon fires.

"Shit…" Chau whispers. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!"

He rushes over to the nearest sink and then vomits into it. For a second, I'm hopeful he's been poisoned somehow but then I realise he's just in shock. He's just murdered his two former allies. I was a few months younger than Chau when I made my first kill. He was a boy from District 8, just like Ernest Curtain. I remember I felt guilty at the time but over the years I became numb to the guilt and that was what made me strong enough to claw my way to the top.

Chau pulls away from the sink and kneels on the floor, shaking.

"I did this," he mutters to himself. "I did this. I did this."

Then I see it. The numbness setting in. A sign that the boy I'm watching on the screen is going to be very dangerous one day.

"I'm going to win the games," Chau declares.

He stands up, eyes full of grim determination, and pulls the knife from Curtain's body.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I certainly had fun writing Fawkes in villain mode again. It's been so long! I think this version of Fawkes is probably the most villainous version I'll ever write. Binah was the one character who served as his moral compass and, well… RIP Binah. Time will tell if Fawkes is able to get a new moral compass.

I particularly enjoyed writing Fawkes' villain origin story from Snow's perspective because it gave me a chance to draw parallels between the two that I never got the chance to draw in other stories. They just never seemed to interact with each other much, despite both being major characters. Well, that ends today! Coriolanus Snow is going to have to actually deal with the new schemer in town.