Altaïr Muhammad, 12, D9 Male

I can hear kids laughing and playing outside, basking in the pleasant breeze. On any other day, I would be joining them under the sun and on the grass, but on days like these, my only companion is my video game controller. My eyes always stay glued to the screen as if I were under a spell.

I love Assassin's Creed. Ever since my parents allowed me to access M-rated video Games after I turned twelve, I've been hooked. In fact, I wonder how I've managed to live until I discovered this game. I even share a name with the main character. I asked Dad if it was a coincidence or if he played Assassin's Creed, too.

"Pure coincidence!" Dad always insists. I might even believe him if my name wasn't so rare.

I save and quit my game as I notice the darkening sky out of the window. I get up from the back closet of the computer lab, where my console lives, to the front lobby. I grab a gardening manual and a film about tornadoes called Twisters on my way out. The stacks upon stacks of books and movies I've read through or watched have become my best friends, and although some might think I'm weird for it, I wouldn't have it any other way. At least they nourish me with knowledge instead of judging me.

No one else in the district has access to treasures like these. Dad and Pop's library, which houses some Panem-approved material and some contraband that's cleverly hidden for only the big brains to seek out, is available to the entire district, but most people shun it, calling the library "dusty" and "uncool".

They don't know what they're missing out on. This wonderful place might even allow me to learn a language other than English, a possibility one would think only old-worlders had access to.

"Hey, Dad, could you quiz me on German when we get home?" I ask him on our way back from the library. Dad agrees and Pop tells me he can help quiz me too, after dinner.

Claire is amused by my choice of a movie about twisters. At thirteen, she may be my older sister but in maturity she is years younger than me.

"You know, Altair, District 9 is famous for tornadoes," she warns me at dinner. I give Pop an apprehensive look and he just chuckles.

"You're lying," I accuse, "I've lived in Nine my whole life and I've never seen a single tornado." Claire just gives me a mischievous smile, looking out the dining room window at the clear skies.

"Well, I think we might be overdue!" Claire giggles, nudging me. "Just imagine our house, and the library, swept away!" That image floating in my head made the tornado movie more scary than entertaining.

The quizzing goes well and both Dad and Pop are very understanding of my slowness in learning languages. I might not be good at learning some things, but Pop always gave me a passion for knowledge.

After such a busy day, my bed feels much more soft and inviting.

…

My white hood sways in the breeze as sprint across the rooftops, my steps nearly silent. Stealth is my biggest weapon, because there's no bigger advantage than being on the attack before your enemy even knows you're there.

I go still on the edge of the building as I spot my target. The Head Peacekeeper for Nine, Adonis Merryweather, is the perfect example of when power goes to your head. Brutal and inhumane, I set my sights on him before even receiving an assignment to carry out the bounty on his head. The Commander's recent flogging of a ten-year-old boy cemented the fact that he could not live any longer. Peacekeepers, the Knights Templar, think they represent order but they just stand for cruelty and oppression. I am an assassin, I stand for freedom.

Merryweather sits in a pub, laughing and drinking with fellow officers. It's strange to see such a soulless man engage in laughter. He seems to register a joke but not the pained cries of the regular people he hurts. My face grimaces at the sight.

I hop from building to building until I reach the pub's rooftop, where I can hear the jovial voices from inside. I scale the roof until I spot an open window, noticing that it belongs to the bathroom. Perfect.

I slide into the window without a sound. Considering how much the Head Peacekeeper has been drinking from the slurring of his words, it's only a matter of time. My Hidden Blade is unsheathed from my sleeve.

Sure enough, just as I begin to ponder just bursting from the bathroom and killing Merryweather before he can react, I hear him announce what I want to hear.

"Be right back fellas, I have to use the can," he tells them as his footsteps draw closer. I scale the wall and slide behind the door in anticipation.

Just as he opens it, I draw my blade and before he can recoil or call for help, his throat is slashed clean open with a gurgling sound. His mouth is a bloody stream and his eyes roll back as he collapses in a heap. I leave through the window as quickly as I came. My strides are quicker than when I was arriving at the assignment. Adrenaline always fuels me in a way I cannot describe.

As I dash through the streets I slowly become one with the shadows. Not being seen by many does have its advantages.

…

I love waking from dreams like those. They don't stay in my memory long, but considering I spend some days doing nothing but playing Assassin's Creed, it makes sense. Playing as an assassin is one thing, being an assassin is another.

It's still two-o'-clock in the morning, so I lie in bed trying to get myself back to sleep. The excited feeling in my body is preventing me from doing so. I rise and tiptoe to my closet, taking my favorite white assassin hoodie. I slip it on, feeling invincible. I then remember that it's my first Reaping next week.

"I think I'll wear it there," I say to no one in particular. "It's not like they'd reap an assassin."

Nerezza Elsera, 17, D9 Female

The bright summer sky beams down at me, the sun hitting my body in a very empowering way. My arms are lifted to the heavens as if to draw energy.

Heaven, however, is not my domain, nor will it ever be. Most people dream of a divine paradise after death, as some sort of consolation for a difficult life.

Not me. Hell is where I descend from, and I am its goddess.

Most people laugh when they hear me explain this. It's something that I didn't even seriously believe in until after I became a teen. Some could say I matured enough to realize this destiny. Others have said I'm losing my mind with age. I believe most people are crazy in their own ways. Everyone has demons, I just choose to feed mine.

"Nerezza, are you coming inside to eat?" Mother Orbona asks me from through the screen door out to the yard I'm prancing in. District 9 is not lacking in nature, and even the backyard of our orphanage is like a little garden sanctuary. It's fitting considering the tales Mother Orbona gave me of how I came to be.

"You were special, too special, Nerezza!" Orbona explained to me all those years ago when I was still too young to know my own place in the world. She went on to describe how it was a miracle that I ended up on her doorstep. If I went to anyone else, I would have been shunned and neglected for my uniqueness.

I start to make my way to the door when I hear an object whistling from the sky. I look upward to see that it is the body of a crow, pesky birds who never shy away from our fresh crops of wheat. It plops down uselessly next to me, but suddenly the sky darkens as more and more lifeless birds start to fall from the clouds.

I smile to myself, knowing that although I am seemingly in the middle of the frey, I am protected. A goddess can't die.

As I predicted, no bird even comes close to hitting me. In fact, when one enters my vicinity, it burns to a crisp before fluttering over my head in a cloud of ashes. Before long I am surrounded by crow carcasses and my body is darkened by the ashes. A fire starts to flicker at my feet as every step I take leaves the grass below me blackened and smoking.

Before I can reach Mother Orbona, however, a fiery hole opens in the ground, with a wicked looking hand emerging and grabbing me by the waist like I'm a ragdoll. Despite me trying to tell my body to remain calm, I feel nothing but fear. When instances like this happen, it always reminds me that even though I'm a goddess, I'm in my human form. I'm still flesh and bone. That becomes increasingly apparent as my body burns up under the scorching fingers of the hand, slowly dragging me down under, where I belong. The only thing I can hear are my own screams and all I can see is fire.

…

Throughout the day I am in a slightly sour mood stemming from the grisly images never leaving my mind, but it doesn't stop me from upholding my image. I grin upon noticing the frightened expressions of people as plants and grass wither behind my trail. Magic, some would say, but a small bottle of salt and vinegar onto the vegetation is good enough to convince them of such.

I'm in a particularly crowded part of part of District 9, a red-brick plaza where many gather to purchase fresh wheat flour or barley in some stands, and little knick-knacks in others. I never indulge in places like these. They sell material goods, and someone who is immortal has no need for such things. However, it's still amusing to watch people pass by and go about their days. I am among them as a citizen, but I'm not like them. Not even slightly.

The air is tense with the anticipation of the Reaping later. I chuckle to myself when I notice frightened children trying to suppress their nerves as the hour draws near. I could not possibly imagine being so occupied with something as morbid as the Games. Death is guaranteed, the Games just guarantee a quicker and more public death. Therefore the fear of the Reaping has never affected me.

I arrive back at the orphanage, where Mother Orbona greets me with cereal. I dine with my friend Madeline while the head of our orphanage went on to describe how we would be an example to the rest of the orphaned kids at the Reaping. She also glances in my direction when advising that we don't get into any trouble.

"Orbona," I say with an air of entitlement, "when have I ever been anything but perfect?"

Orbona chuckles sheepishly. "You got me there, Nerezza."

The Reaping seems to go on forever. The sun is shining on me, like it always does. If I had any doubts about today the universe is reminding me that I am untouchable. I gaze upwards as the escort finally pulls a name out of the bowl.

"Nerezza Elsera!"

You would think hearing your own name would inspire fear in even a goddess' heart, but I just raise my eyebrow.

Seriously?

Making my way to the stage, I can't help but roll my eyes. Oh, well, since I am a goddess, I may as well indulge in mortal desires, right? I don't hear the boy's name but I do catch several frightened glances from the crowd, all at me. They seem to be afraid of me already.

This is going to be more fun than I anticipated.

I hoped you liked Altair and Nerezza! A very interesting pair I would say. Sorry for the lack of updates, the COVID sot had me down and out for a few days. I swear my arm is still hurting from it so it was a little difficult to type, haha.

Next chapter will be the Ten male! I would expect the chapter on Wednesday since I work tomorrow. Reapings are almost done I am so excited!

Thank you for reading, and remember to review! Thank you to all who have been reviewing so much lately, it means the world. We are already to 50! :)

-Aemma

P.S. Full Sponsor system will be posted soon!