Chapter 35: Birch Davison
A/N: Here we go, District Seven have gotten themselves back into the Victors Circle, ending that incredible District Four four-time winning streak! And remember, Seven never win in the traditional way, they always find a way to shake things up! Hope you enjoy Birch's chapter and pls review for more! Oh, and I used MetheFanatic's escape room arena idea so thanks for that! Cheers:)
P.S. Check out the poll on my profile page!
P.S.S. Sorry for the long wait. I'll explain more later.
"You know, District Seven aren't half bad at the Games," Katniss remarked.
"Yeah," Peeta agreed. "Shame they were rather inconsistent at times. And they were poor and pretty rebellious. If they had just a little more money, who knows? They could have been in the Career pack."
"Birch, huh?" Katniss tapped the picture. "How did he win? I can't seem to remember."
"He won big, just like every other Victor from Seven," Peeta said, chuckling.
"These Sevens really do like to show off their uniqueness, don't they?" Katniss remarked. "The Mutt Rider, The Bloody Violinist, The Flute Charmer, what's his nickname?"
"The Escape Artist, I think," Peeta responded. "His arena was an escape room."
"Oh, yeah!" A light bulb clicked in Katniss's mind. "I remember now! I didn't know what an escape room was back then. Still don't have a clue why it even exists."
"Me neither, Kat. Me neither."
Birch Davison
District 7
Aged 18
9 Kills
Four Careers in a row. Four. Embarrassing! Hassan was grateful that those four siblings made it out and they all seemed very rebellious, but still! Four consecutive Career Victors! From the same District! From the same family! How on earth had Panem allowed that to happen? He shook his head, thinking of Justine, the girl from Seven in Iris's Games, so close to winning, yet so far. Screw those room service mutts! Hassan never looked at Avoxes and hotel housekeeping the same way ever again. He sighed deeply, chugging down his juice. "Somebody, anybody, I don't care which District you're from, just end this Career winning streak before it gets out of hand!" he pleaded, slamming the plastic bottle against his desk in frustration. He hadn't been able to even listen to Marina for six months. After what Rafael did, he wasn't too happy with the fishermen. Marina claimed he had no choice. It was rigged! He rigged the Games in his favour! He deserved to go bonkers. Those fifteen kills were just for show. He probably thought he could handle it, but no, that coward couldn't. He even backed out of his suicide plan because Timmy's girlfriend began sharing bedtime stories! Atom Huang had declined to include the latest and lousiest Victor into District Thirteen's rebel plans, thank goodness, but Oakette had welcomed him with open arms into Fourteen's rebellion. He had had a long, drawn-out argument with her over this. That surfer kid wasn't mentally fit to fight! Oakette had countered that if Sterling could be included, so could he. Besides, Marina endorsed him herself. Marina was a good friend and a lovely lady, but she was too loyal to her District to see that including all four Fishers was a bloody mistake! Hassan groaned, checking the time. Three hours before the Reaping. Please let it be someone built like a tank or something, he thought to himself, gritting his teeth nervously as he went to get dressed.
Jill gazed out towards the sea of terrified faces, wondering how long she could last in this job. She usually rotated between Hassan and Olive for the mentoring roles and this year it was her turn again. She hadn't mentored last year and oh boy, last year was a mess. Hassan still had a grudge against that poor kid from Four, but Jill and Olive didn't see the problem. Sure, he had bribed those secrets out, but to be fair, the likes of Shocker and Scipio had committed more heinous crimes than mercifully killing off fifteen scared kids before they could be eaten alive by mutts, and they were generally accepted amongst the Victors. At any rate, she felt sorry for him, but that didn't mean she wanted Four's run to continue. It ended now. Their seemingly infinite luck in recent years was about to end, hopefully with a District Seven victory. It wouldn't be a girl's victory, though. Sadly, a poor, skinny twelve-year-old was Reaped, wailing for her mother as she was pushed onto the stage by some rather impatient Peacekeepers, trembling like a leaf. Jill sighed. She would try, but they all knew she wouldn't last very long in the arena. Why on earth were twelve-year-olds even included in the Reaping? They stood no chance in the arena. Even the fourteen-year-old Victors, Sapphire, Iris and Rafael, were hugely considered as underdogs despite being strong contenders in reality. Age did play a huge factor in the Games. Anyone under the age of sixteen usually posed a smaller threat according to the betters and anyone under fourteen was a goner. Younger kids usually couldn't bring themselves to kill, an absolute necessity in the Games these days. Jill could only hope that the boy was someone stronger. When Birch was called up, a small smile spread across her face. Birch was a local hero, but not for the reasons one might expect. He was a master thief, a criminal who could force his way into any Peacekeeper vault or house and steal his way out. The best part was, he always distributed the money to the poor, saving them from starvation. And he never got caught. Everyone knew it was him, but he could never be convicted. There was no evidence that could be used against him. Could he be the one to bring the crown back to Seven? She hoped so. This boy was the only reason half the District was still alive right now. His stealing was an unimaginable blessing to everyone. If he died in the arena, there wasn't a replacement master thief to take care of everyone. The District seemed to understand this, judging by their terrified expressions and horrified looks. Jill gripped her violin bow tightly. She had to bring Birch home, she had to even if it was the last thing she did!
Olive boarded the train early, eager to hypnotise herself to stay calm. It wouldn't work, she could never hypnotise herself, but she had to try. She never gave up on that. Grabbing her trusty flute, she began to play a slow, gentle tune, ignoring the Avoxes swaying around her. She felt bad for those poor Avoxes. Someday, when the Capitol was finally destroyed, she would set them all free and arrange a music lesson for them. They arguably contributed more than the Victors did. Many of the famed celebrities had become drunk or gone insane. At least the Avoxes kept their cool in the midst of Capitolian torture. There was no shame in admitting the 'lowest' class in society were probably far stronger than the fabled Victors, especially when it was most certainly true. Out of all the Districts, Seven's Victors were the ones that managed to keep hold of most of their sanity, although he same could unfortunately not be said for Districts One, Four and Five. Just then, Olive became aware that Jill was knocking on her door. Her godmother was the only other person who couldn't be entranced by her music, besides President Snow and several top officials. Everyone else was at her mercy. She stopped playing and opened the door. Sure enough, it was Jill. "Olive," she said warily. "Uh, we're being delayed."
Olive frowned. Another delay? They had one last year! "Did they overwork the Sixes again?" she guessed, stuffing her flute in a bag.
Jill shook his head. "No. You've hypnotised literally everyone." She stepped aside and Olive was given a good view of the rest of the train. The two tributes, the escorts, the drivers from Six and the bodyguard Peacekeepers were all fast asleep, dozing peacefully in each other's arms. Olive had to admit, seeing the escort burying her face in a large, burly Peacekeeper's lap was simply a priceless work of art. The only person who was still wide awake was Birch, who snickered as he looked in Olive's direction.
"Well played, Olive. Well played. You got the escort and Peacekeeper Michael together. Brilliant!" he said, clapping his hands slowly.
She let out a soft giggle. "Oops." She went back and grabbed her flute before spitting into it, letting out a sharp, dreadful screech, kind of like Snow's singing. Yes, she had heard the tubby President sing. It was a concert she was forced to perform in, with Snow as the guest performer. She had to resist the intense urge to not burst into fits of laughter or cringe on camera. Everyone stumbled to their feet. The escort yelped when she saw where her face had been and slapped the confused and utterly clueless Peacekeeper. Olive smirked as they struggled to comprehend what had happened. The escort was the first to speak.
"We're off schedule!" she barked at the workers from Six. "Hurry up, pick up the pace, you District scumbags!" As the Sixes shuffled into place, Olive scowled at the escort's last comment. Those were just some poor, hungry workers trying to earn a living. It was a miracle they hadn't fallen into the bottomless pit of morphling addiction like so many of their District compatriots. Birch saw her scowl and shuffled over. He had that wide, cheeky smirk on his face like he always did. That smirk, it meant he was up to no good, well, no good from a Capitolian's perspective at least.
"I've got an idea," he whispered. "Meet me in the dining car at eleven."
Birch shuffled his feet, his back leaning against the wall of the train, his hands slowly twisting and turning a piece of copper wire. The clock struck eleven. Where's Olive? he wondered. Had she chickened out? Had she forgotten? He was about to knock on her door when the flautist Victor came out in her nightgown, a wide smirk on her face. She had her flute with her, thank goodness, because it would be absolutely essential for this plan to work. "What's the plan?" she asked.
Birch held up his wire. It was no longer than his finger, no thicker than a string. "Come with me," he instructed. Olive did, following him t the escort's room. It was locked from the inside, with only a metal scanner allowing entry for anyone from the outside. This was a routine break-in for Birch, not a huge problem. He struck the scanner repeatedly with his wire, receiving a few jolts of electricity, but nothing he wasn't used to. Finally, the door unhinged itself and it was go time. Birch and Olive slipped in, quiet as mice. The escort's room was naturally larger than theirs. On a large bed that could easily fit five poor, starved children, their parents and their grandparents, was the escort herself, snoring contentedly. Birch closed the door and signed for Olive to play one of her most infamously hypnotising songs. It was a quick, catchy tune that made the escort jolt right up and before they knew it, she was strutting her stuff. Birch roared with laughter as the escort began to twirl awkwardly on the ground, waving her hands in an attempt to imitate a ballerina but failing miserably and looking more like a falling birch tree. Olive quickened the music and the escort started to attempt a tap dance, which only made Birch laugh even more. Olive began to laugh too, and her music began to falter. The escort began to come to her senses, blinking in utter confusion and halting herself now and then. "Quick!" Birch hissed to Olive, who was giggling so much, her flute was spewing out weird sounds. "Run!" They did, laughing as the escort chased them out, screaming like a banshee and waving a thick encyclopaedia at them. Birch grinned. He might die in the arena soon, but at least he could poke some fun at the Capitol while he was still alive. As far as he was concerned, he was a far better tribute in terms of attitude than the last two Victors combined.
Reyna wasn't a mentor again, and thank goodness for that. She had never had to mentor since the Tenth Games and that was certainly not going to change anytime soon. She was far more concerned with her two daughters, Lyme in particular. Blenda was healthy but Lyme, she was having a high fever. Normally she would leave her children in the care of Henry for the entire duration of the Hunger Games, but this year, she and Ragnar had brought Lyme to the Capitol with them so they could keep tabs on her at all times. Besides, neither of them were mentoring and therefore neither of them really cared much about the arena events. Draco had begrudgingly allowed one of the Victor couple to remain in a hotel during the Tribute Parade to take care of Lyme and the plans had been for Reyna to stay behind, mostly because she was still rather unstable at times. Sadly, Ragnar just had to sprain his ankle on the train ride to the Capitol after being confronted by that stupid kid Hector. He was a Career but that didn't give him the right to go around hurting his own mentoring team! Reyna sighed, braiding her hair as she headed for the amphitheatre. She had always hated the Tribute Parade and this year was going to be no different. Her seat was usually far from the other Victors from Two, with seas of crowds and the Parade track separating her and Draco, thankfully. Draco had a sinister reputation for bullying the 'weaker' Victors, obviously including her. The worst part of it was that anyone who tried to intervene would receive serious consequences. Snow would make sure of that. Reyna herself wasn't too bothered with the abuse, she had learnt to completely ignore it over the years but some of the others hadn't. Shocker, Woof, Sterling, Laurel, Gadget, Timmy, Iris and Rafael, the last three of whom were still children of Reaping age, hadn't dealt very well with Draco's constant traumatising sessions. He tore them apart every time he saw them, claiming that they should have died in the arena and allowed the stronger, more worthy Careers from Two to win. Reyna sighed. Not all of the Careers from Two had wanted to volunteer in the first place. Many of them were forced to against their will, including her, Ragnar and Hercules. "Life isn't fair," she muttered, sitting down and glancing around. Jill, Nikola and Mags were early as usual, chattering amongst themselves about the Games. Ford and Crystal were in a secluded corner, snogging each other's faces off. As usual, she would most probably spend the Parade alone.
The anthem began and the chariots began to roll out. Reyna rested her head on her hand. She was so weary. Life as a Victor mother was tougher than most would imagine it to be. Blenda and Lyme were a handful to take care of. They were seven and constantly running about, Blenda more so than Lyme. Her life was already a mess to begin with without them in the picture. Beside her, Flash began shouting unintelligibly as District One's chariot came out, all pretty and magnificent as usual. She had to reel away from the drunken Victor's foul breath. It wouldn't be long before his drunken rampages kicked in and she definitely did not want to be in the line of fire when that happened. Their District's chariot was up next. Hector and Catherine were dressed in battle armour, as usual, looking all grand and mighty. Reyna had a flashback to her own Tribute Parade and a small cry of agony escaped her mouth. In front of her, Marina and Seeder glanced back with concern scribbled all across their faces. "You okay, Reyna?" Seeder asked, gripping a stress ball tightly.
Reyna nodded quickly. "Yeah, just another flashback. I'll tell Gwen later," she assured them. Gwen was the go-to answer for all their psychological needs. She was their only answer ever since the Capitol made therapy illegal for Victors. By then, the Sevens had begun to emerge. Ragnar had talked with Hassan at the start of the Games. Birch Davison, the boy from Seven, was, as Twos often say, the Robin Hood of the District and a master thief. Honestly, Reyna would be more than happy if Birch won. There he was, dressed as a proud forest king complete with birds resting on his shoulders, draped with royal green cloth. Reyna blinked, astonished by this surprisingly grand sight. For the past five years, the Sevens had been styled as trees. Seeing this change was certainly a refreshing sight. The Seven Victors certainly thought too, as Hassan, Jill and Olive each wore a triumphant grin on their faces. Maybe, just maybe, Birch had the win in the bag.
Jolien hated her life. She had expected that after her Victory, everything would be all rosy and perfect and her family would be together forever. She couldn't have been more wrong. The Capitol had torn her family to shreds and forced both her and Timmy into the VPR. And the trauma was astounding. All those kills, they replayed in her mind without fail like a cursed radio. It wasn't just the trauma in her Games. The trauma of watching Timmy, Iris and Rafael, three wonderful children, enter the arena and come out as depressed, hollow souls just drifting around at times, it sucker-punched a huge hole in her already broken heart. There was nothing she could ever do about it. If she tried to defend her siblings, the District would be firebombed and the next twenty tributes from Four would be twelve-year-olds condemned to brutal arena deaths. At least this year, her tributes weren't twelve-year-olds. They were good, strong fishers aged sixteen. Rafael was technically the mentor for the boy, Gulper, but he had gone insane, so just like Ragnar during the Seventh Games for Reyna, she had to stand in for him as a mentor. Her fellow mentor this year was Mags, who hadn't wasted time in discussing tactics and dissing the other tributes with Tetra. Their training had apparently been splendid, according to them and the Careers seemed to like them. All that could be gone in a flash, though. Diadem and Cyrene thought Iris liked them and the Careers thought Shocker liked them. The end result for both groups, well, let's not get there, shall we? The trust could be broken in a few moments, as Caesar was about to read out the training scores. Gulper and Rafael sat on either side of her on the couch, both playing with their fingers nervously, their eyes focused on the screen, their breaths shallow and afraid. It was hard to imagine that one of them was a Victor. The Victors were, in reality, a terrified bunch, far cries from the television celebrities. Caesar read out the scores for the Ones, Twos and Threes, a huge smile on his face as usual, although according to his girlfriend and Jolien's Victor sister Iris, that smile was horribly faked. He had been allowed to communicate with Switch and the pair got along really well. Switch was his mother, after all, and ever since Bartomeus choked to death in a mental asylum, she was his only family left. Their jokes and laughs masked a dark and unnerving truth: Switch had been sixteen when she gave birth to Caesar. Absolutely shocking. Caesar got on to the Fours and Jolien held her breath, crossing her fingers and praying for a chance of a fifth straight victory. Gulper was first and a wide grin spread across her face when a '9' was flashed across the screen. Perfect! That was already better than the boy from One! Mags let out a loud whoop of excitement when Tetra was also given a nine. This could be five for District Four! Her excitement died when Birch Davison, the master thief from Seven, with his sly smirk, appeared on screen with a large '10' flashing across the screen. Jolien's jaw dropped. How was that possible? Master thief he may be, but ultimate tribute? Heck no! What had he shown the Gamemakers? Jolien was about to find out soon enough...
Nikola had been in the business long enough to know that neither of his tributes was coming home, but nonetheless, he and Gadget had tried their best. They had both unfortunately stumbled during their interviews and not even Caesar had been able to salvage a single bit of hype for them. "Better luck next year," Marina told him, an encouraging smile on her face. Yeah right. For her District, it was, 'We'll have another one next year!' Four in a row, incredible. Simply incredible and borderline cheating. Nikola and Gadget took their seats in the Mentoring Room, staring gloomily at their screen, blank for now, but one which would soon be filled with gory images of bloody tributes. Gadget had that usual, dead look in her eyes as she tilted her head slightly to stare at John, her nemesis. John gave her an apologetic look, which she returned with a dead glower. Nikola rested his hand on her shoulder. "It's been more than ten years. You need to forgive him someday, Gadget," he implored.
Gadget didn't respond, she just turned and gave him a dead stare. Nikola shook his head sadly. Therapy, that's what she needed. Of course, the one thing they needed the most, the Capitol would never give. The Capitol seal appeared on the screen and soon after, the first glimpse of the arena was seen. Nikola stared at it blankly, feeling a little like Gadget with his dead stare. It was a network of rooms and corridors, with puzzles and traps. He vaguely remembered seeing something similar in a Capitolian mall. A family attraction of sorts called an escape room. Nikola groaned, remembering that one time Jill and Mags had convinced him and Ringo to go into one of these rooms. He had single-handedly brought them out, but not before being scared shitless by zombies jumping out of a cupboard and being knocked over by Ringo when he stumbled backwards to avoid a witch chasing after them. Not exactly fond memories. This arena looked pretty similar, except, this time, the traps and scares were very much real and could hurt, or even kill the tributes. He gulped as the tributes entered the arena on their launch pedestals, glancing around with terrified expressions as they found themselves in a large but cold, dark hall with twelve locked doors with turnstiles, each with a different image of a Victor and a barcode scanner. Scattered across the hall were several corresponding cards with barcodes, but they were placed in hidden locations, one in the heart of the Cornucopia, another attached to the underside of a chair in the middle of an entire stack of furniture in one corner of the hall, a third atop the Cornucopia and hidden underneath a silver piece of cloth. The tributes began to panic, screaming when they saw the turnstiles and lack of a clear-cut escape route. Nikola's heart sank when his own tributes failed to take advantage of their incredible IQ and instead chose to break down in tears. They could solve this but they wouldn't even try, for crying out loud! He sighed deeply as he awaited the inevitable to happen. Birch, the boy from Seven, on the other hand, had a confident smirk on his face as he scanned the area with scrutinising eyes, scratching his chin thoughtfully. The gong rang and in less than a minute of chaos, both the kids from Three were sliced down mercilessly by the deranged pair from Two. Sterling, Rafael, Shocker, Gadget and Reyna instantly fled the room, crying and wailing as the carnage continued. He thought about following Gadget, but she had time and again told him not to. Nikola knew she was going to dance her sorrows away in her room and he was fine with that. On the screen, his eyes were glued on Birch, who had toppled over a pile of chairs, finding two cards with Seeder and Timmy's images. "Hey!" he shouted to the multitudes of scared outliers scrambling around cluelessly. "Scan these at the doors with their images!" Some outliers ran to him, including his District partner, that poor little girl. Nikola watched as Birch let out a cry of agony when the girl from Four cut her down. Despicable, those Careers. Nikola didn't care that Marina was his friend. Four had joined the Career Districts and their tributes were as monstrous and inhumane as the rest. Except maybe Rafael. He didn't really have much of a choice, did he? Birch grabbed a knife and charged at her, striking both the girl and her District partner down mercilessly. As Mags, Timmy and Iris fled the room, howling in agony, he raced to another corner and stripped off a piece of duct tape, revealing another card, this time with Hercules's face on it. He was trying to save as many tributes as he could! Nikola couldn't help but gaze in a mixture of admiration and surprise at this heroic but kind of stupid boy. It turned out, each card only allowed two tributes to use the turnstiles. More and more tributes were being slaughtered in the Bloodbath and the Careers were starting to become wary of Birch's antics. With one final kick of a table which revealed a card with Orchid's image on it, Birch fled the Bloodbath through Orchid's door.
"That's one heck of a hero, huh?" Axel chuckled, his eyes failing to hide the pain of yet another pair of Bloodbath deaths from Twelve. In total, eleven were killed in the carnage, but that number could have skyrocketed even further without Birch. Nikola simply had to respect this dude. He seemed like a good potential Victor.
Orchid was honestly surprised her girl was still alive. Sprouter had narrowly escaped through the door with her image thanks to that boy Birch from Seven. But things weren't over for either of them. They were both trapped in a room with red wallpaper, several drawers, a poker table and several paintings on the wall. Thankfully, Birch hadn't decided to kill Sprouter, for now. Orchid could see the fear in Sprouter's eyes as she watched Birch warily, keeping a close eye on a timer that had appeared on the ceiling. Two hours. A timer, just like in Seeder's Games. Orchid had a bad feeling she knew what might happen when the timer hit zero. Kaboom. And unlike what happened with the Nessie mutts, the gory remains would be there to stay. Birch was examining the poker cards on the table carefully, frowning and narrowing his eyes as he did. "Hey, Sprouter?" he called out. "Mind checking the drawers?"
Sprouter nodded quickly and began trying each and every drawer. Most were locked but she found an open one with a lock and several cards. "We need three numbers to open the lock," she mumbled hopelessly.
Birch examined the cards. Orchid wondered what was going on in that head of his. Was he panicking or staying cool? She hoped for the latter, for Sprouter's sake. The cards in question were the ace of hearts, four of spades and eight of spades. He flipped them thoughtfully, mumbling something Orchid couldn't quite hear as he did. Suddenly, his eyes lit up and he tried '2, 5, 9' on the lock. It clicked into place and opened. Orchid gaped at him. How had he figured that out?
"Your tribute's brilliant," she told Jill, who was crossing her fingers and staring intently at the screen.
The violinist girl gave her a weak smile. "Your tribute's not half bad either."
Orchid nodded appreciatively, even though the odds were against her tribute making it far with or without Birch. She didn't seem smart enough to crack her way out of an escape room. Birch pulled out a photo from the drawer. It was that of Sapphire Huntington, Orchid's fellow Victor and the one who suffered the most at the hands of the VPR. It was cruel tyranny, what they did to her. Orchid had to keep that in mind when the day came for her to brutally poison Draco and Snow. It will happen, someday. Birch matched the photo with a painting of Onyx, a fellow District One Victor and removed the painting. "That's genius!" she exclaimed. How could he have possibly figured out that the hint wasn't Sapphire, it was District One? Birch found a small compartment with a silver key. The key that would take both him and Sprouter out of the room. They left, with not one minute to spare and Orchid was left staring in sheer awe as the pair ran through a corridor. Sprouter would die the next day after being trapped in another room and failing to make it out, but Orchid had a newfound respect for Birch. The next thing she knew, she was dialing Oakette, excitedly begging her to sponsor Birch. Oakette couldn't have made an easier decision in her life.
Hercules wished he could say that this year's Careers had been like him, forced into the Games instead of willingly volunteering. Sadly, that had not been the case. Hector and Catherine were absolutely monstrous, to say the least. Hector had even injured Ragnar! Like what the hell? Hercules grimaced as they closed in on the terrified boy from Eight. "Another kill," he mumbled. "Whoop-de-doo. Oh, look, an ant!" His attention was drawn to a small ant on the wall, right before Draco crushed it and told him to focus. Hercules rolled his eyes. It wasn't as if he could control his ADHD. Shame Draco could never understand that. Just then, the boy from Eight slipped into a room and the door slammed shut, leaving the Careers screaming in frustration. The boy from Eight would probably be blown up in that escape room, but at least it would be a quick blast. The Careers would rip him to shreds. Meanwhile, Birch from Seven had found himself in his fifth straight room. Hercules had to take a break from watching Hector and Catherine wreak havoc. Birch was arguably his favourite tribute. Hercules desperately wanted a non-Career to win anyway. They had won for four years straight, it was high time the Outliers got a chance to bring someone home. the room Birch was trapped in had dark walls and a wooden floor. There was a chair in the middle of the room, with a helium balloon stuck to the ceiling directly above it. Nailed to the walls were boards with names of Victors on them, each written in different ink colours. Birch had figured out that he needed to climb on the chair and pop the balloon to get a slip of paper. On it was the word 'GREEN'. Hercules grabbed his beer and took a big swig of the strong stuff. He didn't doubt for a second that Birch could escape, but he was worried that his luck would run out soon and Birch would find himself in an inescapable room. Birch sauntered calmly towards a board with Freya's name on it. Hercules stared, puzzled. The slip had said green! There was only one green board, and it was not Freya's, it was Laurel's. What did he think he was doing, setting off a mutt trap like that boy from Eight had just done? Yeah, the boy from Eight had pulled out a wrong drawer and ended up mauled by vicious rat mutts. Not exactly the prettiest end and arguably worse than death by Career pack. Hercules wished he could put an end to these needless Games but Thirteen always told him to wait. They never took action. At least Fourteen tried to hijack Capitolian systems occasionally. Thirteen was absolutely useless. Birch ripped Freya's board apart and found a copper piece of wire glued to the wall behind it. He grinned and swiped it from its place, before casually picking the lock on the door with ten seconds remaining. He was out of there in a jiffy. Hercules heaved a sigh of relief. These Games really were nerve-wracking to watch.
Laurel just wanted these Games to end. Six long days of endless escape rooms and nerve'wracking moments after that hall Bloodbath that killed off both of her tributes, only eight tributes remained. And things were far from over. The tributes were far and wide from one another, showing no signs of coming close to winning. The Career pack had been split, so it was every tribute for himself or herself. Birch, that clever boy from Seven, had walked right out of at least twenty escape rooms in relative ease. He was brilliant, that kid. She thought she kind of liked him. Birch was in a particularly tough room, with thirty minutes remaining. He looked frantic, for once, scrambling around, searching in a fit of panic for even a single clue. Laurel crossed her fingers. Anything could happen in the Games. All it took was a miracle. One crazy miracle for Birch to survive this room. He grabbed a hammer in the room in sheer desperation, banging it limply against the tough metal door. He sighed and flung his hammer as hard as he could straight into the electrical system that kept the arena running. Lightning flashes of electricity jolted across the arena and soon, every tribute was struck down with a powerful rod of shining electricity, screaming in horrible fits of pain and agony as their lives were literally zapped out of them in a slow, painful manner. Every tribute, except Birch, who seemed perfectly safe from the electricity in that room of his. Laurel stared long and hard at the screen, trying to wonder if this was for real. This was like a super-condensed version of the finale of John's Games, she realised. A second arena malfunction in a row! Birch didn't know this. He just kept hacking away at the now cratered wall and the wires that it once hid, sending jolts of electricity across the entire arena, except, for some reason, his room. It turned out that a Junior Gamemaker had been tasked with electrifying the entire arena, and he had done the shoddiest job possible. Surely it was to the chopping board or the Avox Centre for him. Inside, though, Laurel felt empty. This wasn't her District's victory. She hadn't brought one of their own home. And this win had caused lives to be ended, in and outside the arena. Was there ever a time to celebrate after the Games?
Nine kills. Nine. For someone who devoted his life to committing crime to help others, he was quite a savage hypocrite. He had committed one huge crime that had sent literal shockwaves across the arena. He had killed nine, two in the Bloodbath and seven in that one, massive finale. Birch had known he couldn't simply rely on his experience cracking security codes to make it out of the escape room. He had to kill at some point, and he had assumed he would be fine with that. But seven all at once, and in such a manner? That was too big of a crime to let go. The latest Victor from Seven shuffled his feet as he headed for his new home in the Victors' Village, a grand, pristine neighbourhood compared to the atrocities known as the living quarters of District Seven residents. Shacks in the woods weren't exactly first-class mansions. And yet, here he was, the least deserving to live in such a nice place, being showered with riches and fame. He definitely did not deserve any of this, no matter how much Olive and Jill tried to convince him that he did. There was simply no going back from that arena. Once you went in, you had to pay a simple fee. Your very own soul. Now Birch understood why most of the Victors had descended into madness, alcoholism, depression, and whatnot. The pain was often far too much to bear.
Katniss and Peeta had their moment of silence for the master thief and escape artist. "You know," Peeta said. "Maybe he found a way to escape the Revolution too. Maybe he's still alive."
Katniss nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe. We'll see later."
There was nothing else to add on, so they had to move on. Peeta flipped the page. The next Victor was a tall, handsome young man with sleek, blonde hair and magnificent blue eyes. He had muscular arms and monstrous thighs, the ultimate fashion tank. The only blemish was his frown, which seemed out of place on such an imposing figure. "This guy practically screams of District One," Katniss remarked.
Peeta nodded. "Yeah. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect skin, definitely a One. Luxe Carmichael."
VICTORS
District 1-Sapphire Huntington(4), Onyx Hibonite(9), Franc Montgomery(14), Crystal Montgomery(21), Sterling Jones(25)
District 2-Ragnar Sveinsson(5), Reyna Boudicca(6), Draco Hadley(10), Scipio MacAllister(17), Freya Carson(22), Hercules Nichols(28)
District 3-Nikola Johnson(13), Gadget Schroeder(24)
District 4-Marina Bluebell(1), Mags Flanagan(11), Jolien Fisher(31), Timmy Fisher(32), Iris Fisher(33), Rafael Fisher(34)
District 5-Shocker Crimson(8), Switch Kim(19), Flash Morrison(27)
District 6-Ford Hamilton(20)
District 7-Hassan Greenwood(2), Jill Wilson(15), Olive Sanchez(26), Birch Davison(35)
District 8-Woof Casino(16)
District 9-Gwendolyn Whitfield(18), Laurel Flamsteel(29)
District 10-Ringo Alvarez(7), John Gatwick(23)
District 11-Orchid Bloom(12), Seeder Crue(30)
District 12-Axel Millar(3)
A/N: Hi guys, hope you enjoyed Birch! Thanks again for MeTheFanatic's idea of an escape room arena and TheBookworm's idea of using the perspective of Victors, it really helped. Once again, sorry for the inactivity, I've been bogged down by schoolwork and exams and tuition and when I do have time, I don't usually spend it writing. I'm only fourteen I need a life of my own haha, so I won't end up like Rafael and Sapphire, fellow fourteen-year-olds stuck in depression. Sorry for the long rants recently, just needed to clear the air. Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you go over to my profile page and complete the poll, as I need to think about the Victors I portrayed well and the ones I didn't, just to help myself out later. Next up is District One, who haven't won since that horrific Quell, but here they are, back with another Victor! How did he win? Stay tuned to find out! Cheers:)