Chapter 10: Draco Hadley

A/N: I know my paragraphing might be a little terrible, so I've tried to fix it up a little here. Enjoy! Cheers :)

Katniss grimaced. "I think we should move on."

Peeta nodded swiftly. Neither of them wanted to talk about the brutal Career who'd butchered the other tributes.

Draco Hadley

District 2

Aged 18

10 Kills

Charybdis Palmer, District 4, 22 seconds in

I'm going to die. I knew it the second I got reaped. I got myself injured a week before the Reaping, so I've got to use crutches to walk. It's not exactly ideal for the Hunger Games. But still, I might stand a chance. The gong rings, and I hobble away from the Cornucopia as quick as possible. Suddenly, cold metal sinks into my neck, and I can only imagine my parents wailing as I crumble to the ground, the shame of being the first person to die still burning in my soul as I enter an eternal sleep. Right before I go out, though, I catch a glimpse of Draco, that monster of a boy sneering at me. I should've known, of course he'd go for cannon fodder like me. My sister flashes before my eyes. What will she think, seeing me like this? Will she scream, cry, or bear the pain? I'd never know.

Flax Woodburn, District 8, one minute, two seconds in

My peacekeeper mentor told me to get some supplies, so that's exactly the first thing I do. I dash for a backpack that's right in front of me. I'm the fastest tribute around, well maybe save for Draco. But still, I've got a good chance. All I need to do is grab that pack and sprint away. Right as my fingers close around the straps, a colossal force crashed into me. I hit the ground. To my horror, I hear a crack. Indescribable pain shoots through my arm. I roll around weakly, only to see Draco with a huge smile on his face as he sinks a knife into my leg. I scream as blade meets flesh, overwhelmed with searing pain. He pulls it out, and jabs it in my shoulder, then my head, stomach, and so on, all while I scream, begging for mercy. Why can't he just get it over with? He could get ambushed while torturing me! "Please…" I blurt out, blood spewing from my lips as I utter those words. He grins, cackling in that despicable manner. Finally, he lands the killing blow smack dab in my chest. Never had I imagined that I would be so relieved to die. The final image as my life flashes before my eyes is that of my sister, no doubt screaming in agony back home. I was the sole breadwinner of my family, without me, she might die of starvation in the winter. The future didn't look very bright for her. "I'm sorry…" I whisper faintly.

Crash Farmer, District Six, three minutes, eight seconds in

When the gong rings, I run straight for a knife in the middle of the Cornucopia. It's my only chance of winning. After all, my stupid peacekeeper mentor had made it clear there would be no sponsors. I sprint past Jasmine, who's busy spearing my poor, famished district partner, Kaitlyn. But this is no time for sympathy. I brush past Draco. Big mistake. He grabs me by the collar of my jacket, and judo flips me over his head. I let loose a loud screech, hoping it will deter Draco. Of course, it doesn't, that was just wishful thinking. I knew I was dead meat, but did he have to use the knife I was running for to kill me? That's just annoying. He carves little circles across my neck and face. But it doesn't hurt as much. Maybe because I managed to sneak a shot of morphling right before the Games. It truly numbed the pain. But I can't pretend it wasn't cruel or gross, him just cutting figurines into my body. "Oh, come on!" I moan. Make it quick!" He snickers, shaking his head. I close my eyes. The pain, I can't feel, but the emotional pain I can. I've got nothing back home, but still, I wanted to live. To not die. Is that too much to ask for? The morphling starts to wear off, and I scream the loudest scream I've ever screamed once the pain sinks in. it's impossible to describe. Draco smirks.

"Oh, dear. Is the morphling wearing off, Six?" he taunted. I cry out, begging for him to just finish me off. He doesn't care, jabbing the knife into different places. Then, like a total asshole, leaves me to die. I groan in pain. Thankfully, I've lost too much blood, and my end isn't too long. I just wish, I hadn't run for that stupid knife…

Chiselette Williams, District Twelve, five minutes, thirty-four seconds in

Stupid Mark. Why did that clumsy boy from Ten have to hit me with his axe? He'd been aiming for Jasmine! Not me! But no, his aim's so absolutely atrocious, he ends up hitting me in the ankle instead! I groan in pain, trying to crawl away from the Cornucopia. I've reached the edge of the forest when someone flips me into the air. I crash on my back, screaming as my spine breaks. "GAH!" Draco marches up to me, chisel in hand.

"Chiselette, eh? Oh, I'm going to chisel you up!"

I groan. Way to go, insulting my name. He isn't even holding the chisel properly. But does that really matter, when this humongous brute is chiseling 'LOSER' on your forehead? The pain's excruciating. In the midst of it, I try to recall some of Axel's best jokes, trying to keep calm in the face of a horrid death. Draco finally finishes chiseling, and my head burns horribly, like it's been smeared with bloody lava. "Well, finish me!" I yelp. Draco smirks, and I swallow a lump in my throat. Oh, boy. It's horrible, the feeling of your limbs being chiseled off. I howl and groan and scream and cry and beg for two minutes straight, wondering when this nightmare would end. It ends when all my limbs are gone, and the only one left is my neck. By then, I've almost completely passed out from the sheer blood loss, and I've never been more relieved when a blade, this time a sword chops my head off.

Fern Nkosi, District Eleven, three hours, seventeen minutes, fifteen seconds in

I crouch behind the boulder, bandaging my knee. The boy from Two, Draco, had slashed it. It stings like hell. But it's happened to me before. During the Dark Days. It was a nasty peacekeeper raid, but thankfully I lived through it. Just like how I'll live through the Games. I hum contently as I sip some water. The heat in this jungle is killing me. Some people are probably going to die of dehydration. Not me. I've got six bottles of water. I'm prepared. And I've gone days without food before. I won't starve. But I've also never seen a snake before. So, when a large green serpent slithers up to my neck, I scream in sheer terror. I've seen pictures of these things, boa constrictors, I think they're called. I hate them. I toss the thing off me, yelping and shouting. Then, my screaming dies down, and I hear loud chortling. Uh oh. I've made a huge mistake. I'm literally the stupidest tribute in Hunger Games history. Because the Careers have easily located me. Draco grabs the snake with his fist, holding it as if it were a weapon. I get up to run, but Jasmine and Theodora hold me firmly to the ground. They force my mouth open. My eyes widen, realizing what Draco's going to do. I scream and scream, as Draco stuffs the snake down my throat. It's a sickening thing, a feeling no one deserves to feel. But here I am, my insides churning up. My windpipe is blocked. I can't breathe. I struggle, until I can't. I fall to the ground, eyes still open, but very much dead, with the assurance that I had become the Capitol's biggest meme, or whatever those thingies are called.

Logger Smith, District Seven, 1 day, 16 hours, 22 minutes, thirty-six seconds

It's so. Freaking. Cold. Well, it really isn't supposed to be, but those stupid Gamemakers decided to drop the temperature. It isn't fair. I've had a fever ever since we arrived in the Capitol, and I'm so sick now. I didn't want to start a fire, but I have to. I don't want to die in my sleep. The warmth is so good. I let out a purr of pleasure as my body warms up. Which is quickly replaced by a whimper of fright when the Careers come bursting through the trees. Shoot. Draco flashes me a snarky grin. "Well, well. Look who we have here! Another Hunger Games idiot!" The other Careers start laughing as Jasmine and Theodora push me down. I notice that Royal, the boy from One, isn't there. Huh. Weird. But that doesn't matter, because Draco is approaching me with his sword. I gulp, remembering what he'd done during the Bloodbath. He almost never let his victims die easily. Well, that would be a problem, if I hadn't swallowed three painkiller pills in the last hour. What? This fever's killing me. Literally. He slices off my legs. I wince, my waist burning. The painkillers helped, but didn't eradicate the pain completely. The blood is horrific. So much blood, flowing out like a gory river. I already had a fever, all this blood loss, it made me pass out. Draco must've though I was dying, as he shouted frantically, and sliced my head off. Ah, a true District Two killing machine all the way to the end. Those thugs were just as bad as the Capitol. Well, except maybe Reyna. I felt bad for her. She seemed like a nice girl put in the wrong system. Hope she feels bad for me too as I lay dying…

Daylen Potter, District Three, 3 days, 1 hour, 57 minutes, 16 seconds

I hid in the trees. The Careers have passed me by at least twice, but they never seem to find me. I grin. I'm the smallest tribute. When it came to hiding, that was a brilliant advantage. There were just eight tributes left. Royal had been killed by parrot mutts on the first day. I'd been an unlucky witness as those mutts clawed the life out of him. He was a snooty boy, but no one deserved that kind of death. I whistle happily to myself, thinking about my sister Keira, waiting for me at home. We're orphans, so if I win, I could change both our lives for good. I imagined all the fun moments we could have, all the parties, all the quiet peaceful moments without having to worry about factory shifts or the Games. The Games. I had to win them first, of course. But you see, unlike those knobheaded Careers, I had brains. I could work myself out of a tricky situation if I had to.

"I'm coming home, I'm coming home. Tell the world I'm coming home," I sang quietly. It was an old song I'd heard Mom sing, days before the freak factory accident that killed three hundred workers, including our parents. I gripped my branch tightly. I was coming home. For them. For Keira. And for District Three.

Suddenly, I something sharp hits my neck. No… This can't be. I pull out an arrow, still dripping wet with purple poison, and my blood. I'm not coming home. Keira is going to die on her own. I've failed my family. I've failed District Three. As I fall to the ground, I glimpse Draco, grinning with his bow. I don't care. I feel weightless. I'm flying!

Tasha Woodcutter, District Seven, 3 days, 6 hours, 12 minutes, 3 seconds

Damn these parrot mutts are annoying. They've been chasing me from day one. Like why me? Just because I said a couple of offensive things in my interview does not give you the right to actively seek out my blood! "Oi! Get away from me!" I screech, swatting one of the parrots away with my sword. It's only a matter of time before the Careers find me, really. I've been screaming for so long, it's amazing how I'm still alive. Alive and in the top five! I wouldn't have expected that. But as luck would have it, the boy from Four and the girl from Nine were both stung to death by tracker jackers. Oh well. I slash another parrot mutt. In the distance, I spot a cave and grin. Perfect! The parrot mutts hate caves! I dash right in without thinking, heaving a sigh of relief. Too bad I didn't realise this cave was already occupied. Something sharp sinks into my knee and I cry out in pain, falling in agony. Draco looms over me, a sneer plastered on that murderous face. Despite my pain, I bring myself to raise my chin defiantly. "Go ahead. Kill me." He shakes his head, and to my horror, starts slicing up my arms. I scream again.

"You're just another one of those rebels, aren't you?" Draco snarls. "Well, it is the duty of a proud citizen of Panem like me to deal with you."

I nearly barf when he says this. It's so robotic, his voice so brainwashed, I couldn't believe he was a real person. "You're just another pawn," I tell him, gritting my teeth from the pain. "Nothing more than a pawn."

Draco hisses at me, then chops my head off. But I manage to grin, because I've made my point, something I've always wanted to do.

Jasmine Ashton, District 1, 5 days, 2 hours, 7 minutes, 45 seconds in

They've called us for a Feast. I knew it was bound to happen. Ever since our pack split up, there had been little action. The Capitol want more blood to be shed. And I was going to do just that, starting with that idiot Theodora. Oh, she always acted all high and mighty, trying to downplay my strengths, making my weaknesses clear for all to see. Like during Training, when she hauled me to the archery range and told me to start shooting some arrows. Of course I couldn't. I was trained with blades! The Careers had laughed, even Royal. Exactly why I left him to fend off those parrot mutts himself. I arrive at the Cornucopia. It's deadly quiet. No one's arrived. Not Theodora, not Draco, not even Zack. I dash for a pack with '1' engraved on it. Just as I'm about to reach it, I hear footsteps behind me, and my back roars with excruciating pain I tumble to the ground, and see Draco in his grand gladiator glory, in full Capitol armour, holding a bloodied sword with the Capitol's seal on its hilt. It's disgusting, just how into the Capitol's game he is. I know for a fact, he's just another pawn. But then again, I remind myself as I catch Theodora stabbing Zack, so am I. Me and all the Ashtons and nobles, trying to get a victor, to elevate our status in One. And yet, the two Ones who've lived through the Games, Sapphire and Onyx, come from desperate families in crisis. It isn't fair.

Theodora Lee, District 2, 5 days, 2 hours, 20 minutes, 35 seconds in

I glare at Draco, who's practically grinning with glee at the thought of killing me. I don't mind shedding some blood myself, but still, having to kill my own district partner? That was horrible. Still, he seems to be anticipating slashing my head open with his sword. I know I've got no chance against him, and after seeing what he's done to his other victims, especially to jasmine, chopping her body up into little pieces after she died? Not a chance I was giving him an easy fight. We clashed swords, wrestling, grunting, screaming. I aim for his face, the only body part not covered with armour, but it's futile. He knows its vulnerability, and protects it fiercely. He jabs the sword into my leg, and I bite back the intense throbbing, getting a good punch in his chest. He doubles back, but doesn't hesitate in slashing my wrist. I scream, my sword dropping with my severed end. This was it. The end. "Congratulations," I murmur with all the sarcasm and contempt I could muster. He grins broadly, that sadistic clown, and takes great pleasure in slashing my throat. I've got no one waiting for me at home anyway, so I honestly don't care. Heaven seems better than Panem.

Years later, Draco would regret killing Charybdis. As he attacked the young blond medic from Twelve, her nephew, a victor he'd taunted for never having the courage to speak much, stabs him exactly where he speared Charybdis. In the neck.

Katniss shuddered at the sight of his face, and they moved on quickly. A pang of sadness hit her as she faced the next victor. "Mags Flanagan," she whispered, her voice a mere echo at the thought of the old lady. "She didn't deserve to die."

A/N: So, I'm not allowed to use my laptop until August, so don't expect any updates till then! But stay tuned for Mags!