Chapter 40: Beetee Latier
A/N: He was there during the rebellion, we all know how he made it out of not one, but two Hunger Games (three if you count the rebellion) but in detail, we don't really know much about the first time he was thrown into the arena, since he was only ever a supporting character. But here he is, with the spotlight fully on him, how will he fare in this unforgiving arena? After being forced to watch Julia Dawson fight it out for twenty hatred-filled days, all eyes are on whoever this year's arena manages to cough up...
P.S. This year's arena was loosely based on a mashup of Mount Rushmore and the Crazy Horse Memorial. Thanks TigreMalabarista for the idea!
P.S.S. I mentioned that 24 Victors survived the Victors' Purge in total. Do you guys want to see Gadget and Rafael make it out and see a free Panem or do you think that they're too depressed to live through the Rebellion? Also, I mentioned in Draco's chapter that Charybdis' nephew killed him. I originally planned it to be Timmy, but after writing all these chapters, I've been thinking if it should be Rafael instead since Draco ruined his life and it might give him some justice. What do you guys think? Review your suggestions pls!
Peeta smiled. "Ah, finally someone we know for sure is still alive and kicking!"
Katniss chuckled. "Yeah, the genius himself. He really helped a lot during the Rebellion, didn't he?"
"Definitely," Peeta agreed. "He deserves to be here, in a world without the Capitol."
"Just wish that all the other Victors could be here too," Katniss said, a lingering look of sadness in her eyes. "So many of them died, we should all be here, celebrating the Capitol's downfall. We all suffered together, we should be happy together, for once."
"Life in Panem is never fair, Kat," Peeta reminded her, melancholy in his voice.
Beetee Latier
District 3
Aged 14
7 Kills
Life in District Three sucks, mostly because being a genius is never enough to land you a job with a meagre wage. How could it, when literally everyone else is a genius? That was why the factory workers toiling for eighteen hours a day in life-threatening and excruciatingly laborious conditions had an average IQ of 146, well above the genius level. But even in this ultra-smart District, I managed to stand out. How did I do it? Well, I, Beetee Latier, have an IQ of 215. Insane, right? I couldn't believe it myself. That high number was even higher than both of our Victors. Nikola has an IQ of 198 and gadget has an IQ of 196. Mine totally crushes both of theirs. That's how I got a job working as Nikola's assistant. Every day, from eight in the morning until six in the evening, I went over to the Victors' Village, to Nikola's grand mansion, the finest and largest in the entire District, and I helped him with his new designs and inventions. He's got a brilliant mind, coming up with the zaniest of creations that no one else could have possibly thought up of. For instance, that machine that could automatically pick tens of thousands of raspberries in a single hour was pure genius. Raspberries had to be carefully picked if they were to be sold for the fresh market, so this new robot was a huge hit amongst farm owners in Eleven. Or that flying car that he made the other day. Simply incredible. Being able to work alongside him, and sometimes even correct him, it was a huge honour for me. As for his fellow Victor, Gadget, I hardly ever saw her, but I did see her sisters Delphi and Unity quite often. They were delightful women, always smiling and greeting me, always giving me some of their amazing cake for lunch, oh their chocolate cake was simply divine! "Laurel Flamsteel herself gave us the recipe," Delphi said proudly. "And yes, you heard that right. Laurel Flamsteel, the best baker in Panem, this is her recipe!" I had no doubt that Laurel was probably a nice lady, but that terrifying image of her leading that harrowing gingerbread men mutt army stuck in my head whenever I thought of her. It had been shown to us as part of our lessons on the Hunger Games, and trust me, Laurel's army gave me nightmares for an entire month. At least Porter's tiger army hadn't been too out of the ordinary. I finished the slice of cake, thanking Delphi and Unity. We were in Gadget's house during my one-and-a-half-hour lunch break, but Gadget was locked up in her room, practising her dance moves, according to Unity.
"She likes to be alone," Unity muttered, sighing. "She's depressed." That dead look in her eyes, her blank stare during the Reapings, no one could miss her crystal clear signs of depression, except the Capitolians of course, who, according to a recent study by Nikola, had an average IQ of 52. Pathetically low, I know. I never understood why the dumbest of people always get the most power. Then again, Snow's IQ of 135 was pretty high, although his EQ was probably a negative number. I saw Gadget the following day, having her lunch, a pretty large bowl of stew. She wolfed it down quickly, chowing the food down like crazy. When she looked up and saw me, she barely even responded.
"Hi Gadget," I said, waving awkwardly at her.
She gave me a curt nod. "Hi."
Then, she took her bowl and went up to her room. Unity came out of the kitchen, a longing look in her eyes. "She wasn't always like this, you know," she muttered, sighing deeply. "Her Games..." Her voice faltered. I wondered, how painful it must've been, knowing that you killed someone in cold blood, for the sick pleasure of some disgusting elitist brats. Unity gave a weak smile. "But you're not here to hear a sob story, are you? I've got your cake in the oven. Here, let me go get it." She left for the kitchen. Not a minute later, I heard a door slam on the second floor, followed by loud sounds of vomiting. Was that Gadget? Was she sick? Maybe it was food poisoning? I stared at the staircase, wondering if I should go check on her when Unity returned with a slice of cheesecake. She saw my concerned look and shook her head. "She's purging again."
I gaped at her. "Purging?"
Unity nodded. "Yeah. She's got bulimia. A lot of Victors do. The girl from the Quell and that sporty kid from Four, for example. It's horrible, really."
I winced at the thought of it. Hopefully, I would never have to go into that arena. Watching all those poor kids from our District die in the Games, all alone and in extreme pain, it shook even the strongest amongst us to our very cores. The last few Hunger Games, in particular, had been especially gruesome. All the editions from Iris's Games to Julia's Games filled everyone with horror. Squeals of terror and cries of agony had erupted all across the square as the pretty girl from Four tricked her allies and nightmares were cast upon all the children in the little, run-down shacks that spanned across the entire District the night after the Nazi girl from Two massacred the boy from Four. I still couldn't erase those horrific memories, no matter how hard I tried. I couldn't imagine actually being there, on ground zero, watching those kills being carried out, right in front of my eyes. The experience would be a nightmare incomprehensible to the average citizen.
"Beetee Latier!" The shock still has a tight hold on me, restricting my ability to speak. How on earth had I been Reaped? I didn't take out any tesserae, so I only had three slips in the bowl. Three slips in tens of thousands. The odds should have been in my favour. But this time, they weren't. Sitting on the train, staring blankly at the food before me, I expected Nikola to come over, announcing himself as my mentor. After all, I was his assistant. My District partner, Syntax, was in her room, crying her eyes out. She was a poor, scrawny, bespectacled teen, aged seventeen, someone I had seen a couple of times in Three's black market, The Garage. It's a place I had to go to every week, to obtain some materials for Nikola's inventions that simply cannot be found elsewhere. Some of the materials are imported illegally by underground smugglers called the Masked Merchants from Four, Seven and Ten, the three Districts with sea access. According to some rumours that a few Masked Merchants once told me, these materials weren't from Panem. They were shipped from lands beyond, from the Land of Jaguars, the Paradise Isles and the Land of Ice and Fire, but a youthful Masked Merchant then added that he had met a tall, blonde sailor from a land called Bulgy who claimed he was looking for a girl named Jolien. When he had shown the sailor a picture of Jolien, the sailor, who also claimed to be an age progression forensic artist, immediately recognised her as the girl but then a Capitolian fleet showed up on the radar and he had to sail away. It was likely a hoax, but the Masked Merchant had been certain the encounter was real. No one ever knew where Jolien had come from, but this, to me, was an impossibility. I had told him that I didn't believe his tale and walked away. Just then, the door to the dining car swung open. "Hi, Nikola-" I began but then I stopped myself. It wasn't Nikola. It was Gadget.
"Gadget?" I blinked. Wait a minute, this can't be right! Nikola should be my mentor, not Gadget! He knew me well! Plus, he was actually willing to talk! I groaned, burying my hands in my face. Gadget stared at me with those dead eyes, not even acknowledging my reaction. She simply walked slowly, like a ghost, towards the seat across mine and sat down, silent as ever. "Well, why isn't Nikola my mentor, then?" I asked, a hint of bitterness in my voice.
"Syntax is his niece's girlfriend," Gadget replied quietly, her voice monotone and almost robotic. "Besides, I wanted to mentor you."
"You don't even know me," I told her flatly. "How could you possibly be my mentor?"
"Unity and Delphi gave me a lot of information, you know," Gadget said, shoving a plate of salmon towards me. "Here, this tastes particularly good. Fresh from District Four."
I was a little hesitant to eat, but my stomach was growling like a lion. I wolfed down the salmon in no time. "Why did you want to mentor me?" I asked, moving on to stuff my face with the slices of, what was that thing called again? Pizza? Whatever it was, it was delicious.
"Because I've been observing you, Beetee," Gadget said cryptically. "I've seen your inventions, seen all your tricks, heard all your conversations with my sisters. And besides, I-" Her voice crackled and for the first time, I could see a hint of emotion, sadness, in her eyes. "I want to bring home at least one kid from our District. And it seems as though you've got a good shot at winning." The part about observing me seemed kind of creepy but the fact that she showed even the slightest hint of emotion was surprising enough for me. Gadget was always so robotic, so drowned into her depression, I wondered if she was actually a gadget. I wasn't fully convinced by her explanation but I was willing to give her a chance. I just hoped that giving her a chance wouldn't cost me my life.
"Look at him," Nero, the boy from Two, sneered. He was a large boy, the classic Career from Two, which meant that he was obviously going to die a very silly and easily preventable death. Trust me, after Galvarino was killed by a slowly falling salt pillar last year, I found it hard to take these Careers seriously. I merely looked away, ignoring Nero and choosing to focus on finishing that trap I was working on earlier. Nero scowled, obviously pissed off by my lack of reaction. He slapped my head. It stung a little but I've been hit by harder machines during my work. This slap was pretty normal to someone like me. "Hey, kid, you better show some respect," he snarled, stepping between me and my trap. His fellow Careers encircled me, surrounding me and glaring down like vultures. The Fours took up the rear, as usual, uncomfortable with the bullying.
I rolled my eyes. "Nero, I need to focus on my trap. Kindly move away, please."
His District partner, Aqualtune kicked my shin. That blow hurt. I refused to show signs of pain, though, merely giving them an annoyed look. Why show these Careers any satisfaction? They may be stronger, but they've got the brain cells of a loose bolt. In the arena, quick thinking gives you an advantage. Jolien and Iris were Careers, but what set them apart from those who died was that they were smart. They made good choices in the arena and won. I didn't have their weaponry prowess, but I was smarter than them. Surely that gave me a good advantage? Aqualtune hissed at me. "Show respect for your superiors, nerdy boy!"
Just then, the bell rang for lunch. Nero glared at me. "You'll get it in the arena, you big fat nerd!"
I shrugged. "Oh, I'll get it, all right. I'll get the crown!"
The Careers glared menacingly at me, their stares sharp as daggers, but they could do nothing more. I skipped over to the lunch table, content with my encounter with the Careers. I had a few tricks up my sleeve and those brutes wouldn't know what hit them.
The night before the Games was a long one. I stared at the starry ceiling, wide awake, tossing and turning under the covers of a cosy blanket. My head was spinning wildly, preventing me from falling into the darkness of sleep. Oh, gosh, I was going into the arena! Images of every District Three tribute since Gadget won flashed through my head, all their pained screams, all their horrific deaths, all the harsh conditions they had to endure. Nero's threat finally sank into me. Gosh, I wasn't ready for this! I had only gotten a four in training! Caesar tried to hype me up, but were the Capitolians really interested in listening to me talk about physics and machinery and stuff like that? Probably not! I groaned, pulling on my short strands of dark hair. This could well be my final night alive. Gah! Stupid Games!
"Beetee?" Someone knocked on the door.
I sighed. "Come in."
Gadget poked her head through the door, her face bearing a terrifying resemblance to a zombie with her dead, nighttime eyes. She cautiously walked in, dressed in a yellow ballet outfit. Had she been dancing on the roof again? She had done that the night before, before being caught by the girl from Nine. "Can't sleep?" she guessed, her voice still robotic as usual.
I nodded. "I've been thinking about the Games."
Gadget closed the door. "Syntax can't sleep either. Nikola's with her so I figured I should check on you too."
I gazed into her dead eyes. They might have once been pretty, but now, they were just a sad reminder of what the Games had done to her. "You really think my plan will work?" I asked, my voice beginning to tremble from sheer terror.
Gadget nodded affirmatively and for the first time, I saw the ghost of a smile pop up on her face. "You're the smartest person in Panem. If there's anyone who's got what it takes to win, it's you, Beetee." She came closer and hugged me. Her hug was warm, lacking any of the coldness she usually emitted. "Whatever happens, Beetee, I'll be here with you. And don't worry about sponsors. I know of a few people who would be more than willing to sponsor you to Victory."
"But the equipment required, it'll be expensive," I pointed out.
"All it takes is a live wire and some water," Gadget reminded me. "No need for fancy equipment."
"But what if it's a desert?" I asked, hopelessness rising in me.
Gadget shrugged. "Then I guess I'll send in a tsunami or something. Point is, you've got what it takes. I have faith in you." Her eyes glimmered with something. Something that District Three had always lacked. Something I would never expect Gadget to show signs of. Hope.
I beamed. "Thanks, Gadget." Okay, so that maybe wasn't the best of pep talks but it was probably the most I could get from Gadget. She had faith in me, that was all that mattered for now. After she left, I still struggled to sleep and when I finally did, my dreams were terrorised by Careers and Gamemaker traps, all threatening to rip me to shreds. Hardly the perfect sleep, don't you think?
Stepping into the launch tube, my legs felt like jelly. My stylist, Gerald, gave me a firm nod. Looking up, I could see the glare of the bright sun shining in the distance. Please not a desert, I begged silently. If it was, I was screwed. As the launch pad went up, I could faintly hear birds chirping faintly in the distance. Birds. So it wasn't a desert! Maybe a forest, perhaps? If there was life, then there had to be water, I was sure of it! As the pedestal clicked into place, I looked around and my heart nearly skipped a beat. We were in a forest, yes, but beyond the forest were the most fascinating monuments I had ever seen. The one in front of me was a huge, gigantic mountain with the crumbling, cracked face of a man on it, his face stern and almost a warning for what was to come. The one behind me was a huge mountain with four smashed faces of men, maybe past heroes? They stared at me with their empty, cracked eyes, as if daring me to approach. Oh, I very much dared to approach! The gong rang and I dashed into the clearing, grabbing a backpack and immediately lying face flat on the ground, careful not to move a muscle. From above, I could hear the frantic screams, the cries and the wails of dying tributes. And then I heard, oh, gosh, no. It was Syntax, poor Syntax, begging for mercy followed by someone else laughing sadistically and, yikes. From her long, drawn-out screams of agony, I could tell it wasn't quick. I remembered all the time she spent crying, how poor and innocent she had been. It wasn't fair, her dying such a painful and torturous death. Who had her killer been? Probably a One or Two, considering that sadistic laugh that I had heard. Hopefully, that tribute wasn't a smart one, one who would realise that I wasn't dead. The final choked gasp emerged from a boy, not sure who, but who cared, as long as the Bloodbath was over, or so it seemed. I held my breath, my heart beating like crazy as I awaited my fate. Footsteps drew closer. Nero was talking to someone. He muttered about having to leave the Cornucopia. Good, I thought. That's very, very good! Someone else, probably Diver, the girl from Four, said something about not being able to watch over the supplies. Their footsteps drew even closer. Gosh, no, I couldn't possibly die now, could I? Nero was responding to Diver, telling her that not all the supplies were important and that the hovercraft would be coming soon. Begrudgingly, Diver agreed. She kicked my arm. I resisted the urge to flinch. "Who killed him?" she asked, her voice dripping with suspicion. Oh, gosh, no, no, no!
"I think the boy from Five?" the boy from One, whose name I had already forgotten, guessed. I think he strangled nerd boy.
Nero groaned. "I wanted to kill him! Oh well, at least I got his District partner." So it was him! I thought, my mind swirling with anger. He had killed Syntax! And I was going to kill him. But that was a plan for later. Right now, I needed the Careers to leave me alone. Eventually, they did, marching off towards an unknown direction, silent as stalkers. As they drew farther and farther away, I risked opening an eye. The hovercraft was coming, I had to be quick! Grabbing my backpack, a pair of diagonal pliers and a pickaxe, I leapt into the trees just outside of the Cornucopia clearing and tried to look away as the hovercraft took away the dead corpses on the field. I had managed to catch a glimpse of Syntax's body. It was a grim, terrible sight, chopped to pieces and desecrated.
"Goodbye, Syntax," I murmured as the hovercraft sped away, taking away the bodies of eleven innocent little children, including Syntax. With that, I raced into the clearing, pickaxe and pliers in hand, ready to carry out my plan. I crouched down beside a pedestal, now splattered with the dried blood of the girl from Twelve, the first to die, I think, and sent my pickaxe crashing right into its base. I was sure Caesar must be utterly confused by my actions. "I'm not doing anything rebellious, I promise!" I whispered to the cameras, hoping the Gamemakers wouldn't get the wrong impression and strike me down or something. I continued to strike the base of the pedestal until I saw my ultimate prize: the wires. A light smirk spread across my face. This was it, my grand plan to win! I used the pliers to snip away large chunks of the wire, before stuffing them into my fairly large backpack, which only had two bottles of water and a tiny grape, more than enough for me to win, to be honest. I went over to another pedestal, the one the boy from Five had stood on, and repeated this process. Once I was satisfied, I bolted away into the woods, heading straight for the mountain with four faces. As I said, I wasn't scared of them. For all I knew, that mountain might be a safe haven for brave tributes.
Lucky for me, I didn't bump into anyone along the way. The Careers were nowhere in sight and the other tributes must've gone in the other direction. Phew, that's a relief. Reaching the foot of the mountain, I looked up at the tall, imposing faces sculpted on the face of the mountain. It seemed pretty normal, but if it was, then why would the Gamemakers waste time and effort to put it there? There had to be more than what met the eye. I ventured around the mountain, trying to search for some secret passage within the rocks. Just as I peered closer, I spotted something. A small opening behind one of the men's faces. It seemed to be some sort of secret room, meant to be hidden from the tributes. The chink of the forcefield was still far away, and yes, I could see that chink, so this room must be here for a purpose. I scanned the surroundings for a way up there. Aha! There was a series of wooden ladders along the side of the mountain, ladders that eventually led to a relatively flat area not too far away from the room. There had to be something up there so I had to check it out. Climbing was never really my strong suit but I was decent at it, so I scaled it with relative ease. I had climbed machinery before back in Three, so this was pretty easy for me. At the top of the last ladder, I had to scramble my way up to the door. It was relatively flat, but still pretty slippery. The door was around twice my height, which isn't saying much considering how short I was, but it was on the verge of ruins, crumbling to the ground. I had to wriggle my way through, careful not to activate any loose Gamemaker traps. Inside, the secret room was far grander than I could have ever imagined. Light flooded in through cracks in the ceiling, bathing the entire place like grand natural floodlights. Engraved on the walls were old, faded inscriptions, some I couldn't understand, even though I could tell all of it was in English. I traced my hand across one of the inscriptions, less faded than the rest. "We, the people of the United States," I read aloud. The United States. Could that have been an ancient country? Maybe it was the one Panem was built upon. There were tales and legends of a vast empire with military might ruling over Panem's current territory and beyond long before our founding. Could this 'United States' be that country? "Maybe," I pondered, scratching my chin thoughtfully. "Just maybe."
The feast was announced on the third day. It had been so long since we last had a feast in the Hunger Games, I almost forgot what it was for. "Attention tributes," Caesar's voice half boomed, half squeaked. He continued to announce that there would be a feast at noon. It wasn't compulsory, but he strongly encouraged all to attend. I zoned out when he said it wasn't compulsory. No point risking my life for no reason. I had all the supplies I needed. I guessed the sponsors thought I was an interesting enough tribute to sponsor me a roll of bread and a third bottle of water. Perfect. Now all I had to do was wait for the tributes to come running in. The traps had been set up all across the entrance to the secret room, so I assumed that I would be safe. I didn't think that the nimble boy from Five would be able to squirm his way around the traps while I was taking a nap, though. I heard a loud footstep and bolted right up. There he was, panting and wheezing, but carrying a small knife, one that could kill me. How had he worked his way around my traps? I stared at him, then at the wires around the door, dropping wet and ready to strike, utterly baffled. My confusion couldn't last much longer, though, as he posed himself to strike. I glanced around but I had no weapons, no means of defence. It had to be a good, hard, fistfight. I vaguely recalled the results of a sick Capitolian experiment that had been conducted in Three not too long ago. A measurement of the amount of pain caused when someone's balls were kicked. It was said that the instant pain was worse than pregnancy. If those results were true, then it had to work now. It was now or never. His outstretched hands left him exposed and his knife was too small. I lunged forward and gave him a good, hard kick in the sensitive place. He howled in pain and suddenly, I had a shot of killing him. Unleashing the usefulness of the laws of physics, I managed to beat him up and set him tumbling down the mountain with a knife stuck to his throat. The cannon boomed. I dusted my hands, now stained with blood. Not his blood, though, it was mine. I had scraped my hands and was in serious need of a bandage or something. Luckily, that kill had given me some popularity in the Capitol, it seemed, as a parachute came floating towards my room, a bandage and some cream contained within it. I grinned weakly, my stomach still queasy after killing that boy. "Thanks, I'm going to win this thing!"
The feast had ended with the deaths of two tributes, and later on, I would realise that all there had been to fight for was a mouldy piece of bread. How awful. A single scrap of mouldy bread? Seriously? The Gamemakers could be ever so heartless sometimes. Meanwhile, I was decently fed and relaxing in my little secret room, hopefully not a gas chamber of sorts. To keep the Capitolians entertained and happy, always a priority in the Hunger Games, I showed off some of the things that I could build with some wires and some sponsored metal. "Look, a taser!" I said, weakly grinning as I held up the tiny, metallic weapon. "And here we have an electrocuted sword! Those Careers are going to die!" I hated those weapons, I never wanted to make something that could kill, but I had to survive. Just then, I heard a loud rumbling. A peal of thunder? Or worse... "An earthquake?!" I yelped, glancing around desperately for an escape. The wires had trapped me inside with no way out! "Gah!" Shit, I was going to die! I was going to, wait a second. The earthquake was nowhere near me, it was at the other monument! I could hear the loud, agonised screams of tributes as the large, rocky monument was sent crashing to the ground. Three cannons boomed. Which meant all I had to do was kill the Careers. "Whoop-dee-doo, happy Hunger Games," I muttered, sharpening a makeshift knife that I had made before stringing up some more traps. I had enforced the wiring, but hey, you couldn't be too careful, right?
The sixth day came running by. I was running out of food and the sponsors stopped coming. No amount of weapons manufacturing and inventing could bring them back. They were probably getting too expensive by this point. I hadn't eaten in a day, which was fine, but still, the Careers had to come soon. I had wasted too much water on my traps, with little to sustain myself. I was so freaking thirsty... Oh, what I would give for a nice cup of cold water! Surely the Gamemakers would be driving the Careers towards me, right? "Where are you idiots?" I groaned, lying slumped on the ground, trying in vain to sleep. The words on the walls began to dance around my head. I knew it was just me being dizzy, but there swam around, the words of some sort of independence declaration and some laws that I did not know of encircling my head like a troupe of fairies. As the day passed, a slew of equations joined them. Okay, this wasn't natural. I checked my body, before finding a few small ant bites on my ankle. An ant bite! From a genetically modified ant, no doubt! That was why I was hallucinating! Oh, just as I was about to go mad, I had found the source of this problem. I washed the wound, before using some leaves that I had found to bandage the wound. Right there and then, the images stopped swirling around me. I grinned. "Can't kill me that easily."
The eighth day came around and I was hungry, dehydrated and starting to stress out. Where were those bloody Careers? I rolled about on the ground, groaning and moaning in pain. So maybe confining myself to an enclosed area wasn't such a good idea after all. I sighed, wishing my death could be quicker. Just then, I heard loud giggling noises. I leapt up weakly, a crazed grin in my face. "Hey!" I yelped, then covered my mouth as one by one, the Careers popped into view, all bedraggled and covered from head to toe in scars. Perfect. The traps would only hurt them more. They groaned like zombies, pointing tired fingers at me. Weren't they well-fed? Shouldn't they be showered with sponsors? Later on, I learnt that the earthquake had wiped out all their supplies and the mutt chase that had followed highlighted their phobia of dogs, driving away potential sponsors. But there and then, I was stunned by their appearance. Nero staggered forward, a Dao sword in hand. His allies followed suit. Big mistake. I backed away, gaping at the scene before me, as one by one, they let out cries and screams of agony as they were electrocuted to death. Nero's once strong body twitched violently, his Dao slipping out of his fingers and impaling his foot, drawing a stream of blood which only sought to hurt him even more. They were like that for quite some time, just screaming and begging for mercy as their bodies were slowly fried up in a long, torturous fatal process. Then, one by one, they fell to the ground, still twitching with sheer high voltage, but very much dead. I gulped. This wasn't supposed to be this gruesome. I had never meant to see them get tortured this way! I thought it would be simple, killing someone. But no, it broke me to pieces. As the trumpets sounded, no joy filled my heart and at that very moment, I understood exactly what had happened to Gadget. The kills tore you to pieces. I glanced up as the hovercraft drew near, almost like a ghostly grim reaper about to take me to hell for my crimes. I swallowed hard. My Victory was utterly meaningless. Would it have been easier if I had just died. Maybe, for me. But if I had died, the Rebellion might not take place. Thirteen didn't care about Fourteen. I was their best hacker and inventor. And so, with every passing day, I vowed to end the Capitol's ghastly reign once and for all.
"Glad you could see a free Panem, Beetee," Katniss murmured softly.
"He was crucial to the rebels, wasn't he?" Peeta chuckled lightly. "It's only right that he's here to see the birth of a new era."
With a light smile on their faces, the pair moved on. Peeta flipped the page. The following Victor was a young girl with brown hair styled in a fishtail braid and nervous, brown eyes. She was kind of cute, but also really nervous. She was pulling her hair and her teeth were chattering, shown by a blur of pearly white in the photograph. She was dressed in a red, striped sports jersey to match her fit look. Behind her, Rafael wore a dizzy smile on his face, the first time he was ever pictured smiling since his Games, as the other mentors watched on with a look of relief on their faces.
"Coral Thiller."
VICTORS
District 1-Sapphire Huntington(4), Onyx Hibonite(9), Franc Montgomery(14), Crystal Montgomery(21), Sterling Jones(25), Luxe Carmichael(36), Geneva Cooper(37)
District 2-Ragnar Sveinsson(5), Reyna Boudicca(6), Draco Hadley(10), Scipio MacAllister(17), Freya Carson(22), Hercules Nichols(28), Julia Dawson(39)
District 3-Nikola Johnson(13), Gadget Schroeder(24), Beetee Latier(40)
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), Porter Tripp(38)
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: Ah, there we have it, Beetee in his own arena! Sorry for the slight wait, I was recovering from a hand injury (I know, I have broken-glass limbs haha). Hope you enjoyed this chapter from Beetee's perspective and I hope I managed to bring out the genius in him (faking his death and making weapons out of scrap material and using physics laws to take down a stronger tribute) If you want more Hunger Games action, do check out One Big Explosion written by cartierscrown and vote for Olive or Rowan as your favourite tribute on his profile haha, I really want to see them in action and hopefully win! As usual, stay safe (and wear a mask, for goodness sake!) and stay tuned for Coral Thiller! Cheers :)