Chapter 46: Chaff Mitchell
A/N: A canon Victor who almost survived the Quell, but was sadly killed just before he could be rescued. Yeah, it was really sad that if he and Brutus had been further apart from each other and from Katniss and her gang, they might have survived. But alas, that didn't happen. At least he survived one arena before that, though. And here he is, getting the limelight that he deserves. And the Capitol is in for one hell of a rebel Victor...
P.S. So, uhh, I had this idea that I would switch the cover of the book every time I upload, switching it to another one of my Victors. The previous one was Marina, in case you were wondering, so that means that soon, I'll replace that picture with Hassan and then Axel, Sapphire and so on. (if you haven't seen Marina's just pm me I'll figure out a way to show you) So, what do you guys think? Let me know in the reviews!
P.S.S. This arena was loosely based on Plitvice Lakes in Croatia.
IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT: The SYOT I have been talking about (Blue Moon) will go ahead after this story is finished, read my profile for more info. If for some random reason you feel like submitting tributes one year early, uhh, go ahead? (pm me for the form I guess) Reminder, with the exception of a few who have really helped me out or have been actively reviewing prior to this announcement (pm me to find out if you are among them) who will be given one reserved tribute spot, it will not be first come first serve. Each account is allowed to submit a max of 2 tributes. So, yeah, now on with Chaff...
Katniss gave Chaff a pitiful look. "You know, I might have doubted him at first, but he was really a great guy."
Peeta nodded, melancholy in his eyes. "Yeah, he was a damn good rebel too. He never wanted to give in to the Capitol."
The pair went silent after that, thinking, wondering, musing, everything about Chaff. Finally, Katniss spoke up again. "I watched his Games. Really crazy, huh?"
Peeta shuddered at the memory. "All Games are crazy. But yeah, anyone would have had serious trauma after going through that."
"No wonder he became a drunkard with Haymitch," Katniss muttered.
"Maybe we would have been like them too, if we had become mentors for a few years," Peeta mumbled, then shook the thought out of his head as he focused on Chaff's Games, thinking about the replays he had seen on tape.
Chaff Mitchell
District 11
Aged 18
4 Kills
"Hey, Chaff!" someone hissed.
Chaff turned around, careful not to make a sound. In the dead of night, underneath the dark, moonless sky void of any stars or lights, Chaff was virtually invisible in his dark cloak and mask. And the Peacekeepers in Town 1, the home of the bean farmers, were pretty much inactive at night due to their nightly tavern crawls. Of course, this couldn't possibly last much longer, and the new reinforcements coming in in the next few months would be far stricter and harsher in their enforcement of the rules, but for now, Chaff was content with enjoying his little rebellious acts. "Who is it?" he whispered, holding his can of spray paint.
"It's Satsuma," a girl's voice whispered back. From behind an abandoned building, Chaff's older cousin Satsuma emerged. She was tricky to spot, with her costume and jet black hair, but Chaff managed to spot her slowly making her way towards him, carrying a similar black can of spray paint, only the colour of the paint would be different. He smiled as she stood in front of him, although he knew that behind his mask, she couldn't see his smile.
Satsuma crossed her arms, shaking the can. "So? What are we painting today, Chaff?"
"How about President Snow with his head in a toilet bowl?" Chaff suggested, a cheeky look in his eyes.
Satsuma considered this for a moment, before she replied, "Well, we already did something similar with Head Peacekeeper Patel last week. We need to go with something different, something that will absolutely ridicule and humiliate the Capitol."
Chaff thought for a moment, considering a vast array of options that would make the Capitolians gasp in horror. He grinned. "How about drawing Capitol kids dressed as poop being forced to fight in the arena?"
Satsuma nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, that could work."
Chaff and Satsuma couldn't resist their grins as in the morning, they admired their masterpiece being hastily burned to the ground by furious Peacekeepers, but not before the entire town had seen it and had gotten a chance to have a huge laugh at it. Chaff, in particular, was delighted with the quality and level of detail. This was a dream future, a dream scenario he hoped he would live to see. It was no brainer that he absolutely despised the Capitol and was desperate to see it fall. The graffiti and artwork on the walls that kept on popping up consistently in the middle of the night was proof of that. He made sure to draw every piece of artwork with absolute passion, putting his heart and soul into creating every last bit of detail about it. It didn't matter that it would be destroyed within a few hours. He didn't care about that, no. All he cared about was getting the message across. District Eleven and all the other eleven Districts of Panem wanted the Capitol to suffer for their horrendous crimes, not least the creation of the Hunger Games, the single most barbaric, despicable act in Panem's long history of despicable, barbaric acts. He wanted them to burn for their deeds.
Reaping Day. It was Chaff's last. He consistently told himself that in just a few hours, he would be safe from the Reaping, safe from ever dying in the arena. But his odds of getting Reaped were unfortunately quite high, compared to the others. His name was in there forty times since he had taken so much tesserae on behalf of his parents, his brothers Sam and Eric, his baby sister Plantain and of course, Satsuma, who had been orphaned as a toddler and was forced to live with her mother's sister's family, Chaff's. And Chaff loved her as much as he loved any of his other siblings. She was no different, just a fourth sibling, the eldest sister of the family. This year she was safe from the Reaping and thank goodness because on the morning of the Reaping, she had sprained her wrist while on the fields, hardly the ideal way to start the day. But at least she wouldn't have to go into the arena. Chaff stood at his spot, half-asleep and exhausted from all the farm labour. He wished that this Reaping would just pass by and he would never have to worry about it again. The escort was Juliana Bones, a woman in her mid-twenties who had been their District's escort for seven years. Compared to the other escorts, she wasn't half-bad in Chaff's opinion. Sure, she had the most annoying voice in all of Eleven, but at least she seemed fairly polite and never tried to convince them that the Games or Snow's regime was anything near glorious. That was already better than all the other escorts, who never seemed to shut up about the honour of the Games or the wonders of President Snow or something along those lines. Juliana never said any of that. Plus, her fashion sense wasn't too horrendous. She didn't have any skin implants and didn't wear heavy makeup. Her clothes were still cringy, just not at the level of that god-awful escort from Eight. Chaff could at least appreciate that fact. All the boring propaganda stuff soon passed by after what seemed like almost an eternity and then it was time for the Reapings to begin. Chaff bit his lip, hoping that he wouldn't be picked. That would just be horrible, wouldn't it? The girls were first and a depressed-looking thirteen-year-old girl named Cassava Portman was chosen. She practically floated up the stage, her whole body stiff except for her legs, which barely seemed to move. She had the look of a ghost upon her young face, as if her life was already over even before the Reapings. Chaff tried not to feel bad for her, but it was hard not to. The poor girl was practically embracing death and even Juliana seemed distressed by the prospect of this. Then it was the boys' turn. Chaff crossed his fingers.
He needed just one more lucky year.
Just a little stroke of luck.
A bit of luck that he would never get.
"Chaff Mitchell!" Juliana called out. Chaff stared emptily ahead, his gaze momentarily blurring. What? What had Juliana just said? The words rang in his head. "Chaff Mitchell?" Juliana called out again.
Chaff gritted his teeth. Shit. He was going into the arena. And right now, he was looking pretty stupid just standing there with that blank look. He cleared his throat. "Oh, right, coming!" he called out, marching as confidently as he could up the stage as the entire District watched with relieved looks in their eyes. Except for Sam and Eric. Chaff's thirteen-year-old brothers screamed in horror as he walked by, restrained by some rather rough Peacekeepers as they wailed out his name. But Chaff wasn't concerned about them at that moment. He had to focus and look straight ahead for the cameras. He had to act tough. He had to win for his family.
The train was more glamorous than Chaff could have ever imagined it to be. The walls were clean, the regal red carpets were clean, everything was clean. It was so different from the dirt and grime in District Eleven. It was a maddening thing, how this tiny space used by walking corpses was taken care of while an entire nation full of people who actually had a shot in life was so horrendously neglected by the Capitol. Chaff couldn't believe such cruelty could possibly exist back when he was a kid. Now, he could, and his eyes were filled with loathing hate and a humongous hatred as he trudged towards the dining car, towing his empty can of spray paint along. That was his tribute token, an empty can of spray paint. It seemed pathetically odd, but it bore a huge sentimental significance. Chaff slumped on a seat opposite his mentors, Orchid and Seeder, and beside Cassava, who, for once, didn't seem too depressed. In fact, she was actually smiling. Juliana frowned. "Cassava? You don't seem worried."
It was a very unusual thing for an escort to say. It was as if she expected the tributes to be sad about their looming deaths, something most, if not all, escorts couldn't believe to be true. Was it possible that this lady from the Capitol had an actual functioning mind? It seemed too good to be true. Cassava gave Juliana a sad smile, like a faint ray of sunshine in a cloudy sky, with too bright a glow of melancholy to ignore. "I'm gonna die," she whispered softly, as if it were somehow a blessing. "It feels good."
Chaff blinked. "Cassava, you can't give up now."
Orchid nodded. "Chaff's right. Cassava, you can win this."
Cassava shook her head. "No. I want to die. Life is too miserable. Besides, Chaff deserves to win. He's a jolly good, uhh, artist." Chaff knew she had so nearly exposed his secret art career, a knowledge many knew through the excessive spread of rumours. Thankfully, she had stopped herself just in time.
Seeder gave Chaff and Cassava pitiful looks." Look, we're gonna try to get both of you out."
Cassava shook her head. "Not possible. Rules and all."
"Who cares about the rules?" Chaff muttered, popping a grape into his mouth. "Rules are stupid."
Juliana gave him a wary look. "Careful, Chaff. Words can get you into big trouble."
Chaff scoffed, tossing his can into the air and catching it effortlessly. "I don't give a shit. I'm gonna win and be done with this whole thing."
Orchid, Seeder and Juliana exchanged worried glances. "We're in for a tough year," Orchid sighed.
Juliana nodded gravely. "The usual, then."
Chaff hated his stylist. Melanthios had the nerve to dress him up as a strawberry. A strawberry, for goodness sake! And it wasn't even a good one either, it was a horrific shade of pink, with gaping holes, mouldy spots and plastic worms crawling out. Oh, and a swathe of pink makeup had been smeared on his face, as if he were some sort of clown. The horror, the shame, of going out in public, in front of a screaming crowd, while being broadcast to the entire nation, it was simply unbearable! He and Cassava were practically bullied by the rest of the tributes. The minute they stepped out of the Makeover Centre, they were met by peals of laughter from the other twenty-two arena bound kids, some of whom were on the ground rolling with sheer amusement. Even the Sevens, horrifically dressed up as bloody oak trees, even they laughed at their pathetic costumes! It was an absolutely shocking disgrace, one that reduced Cassava to tears when the pair from Twelve, even they had the guts to mock her! Chaff groaned as he slipped off his costume and dumped it into the laundry chute. This was an absolute nightmare.
But Juliana made it better.
As he sulked in his room, she knocked on the door. Now, normally, when Chaff was in a horrendous mood that resembled a rotten bean, a high-pitched, squeaky, Capitolian escort woman who wasn't Satsuma or Sam or Eric in disguise would be the last person he wanted to see. Heck, in normal circumstances, he would have thrown a boot at her. But this time, something in him compelled him to let her talk. Juliana seemed oddly different. She had that kind, peaceful aura about her, as though she would never try to harm or annoy anyone, at least not on purpose. And as far as Capitolians went, she was a relatively nice person. Juliana sat down beside him, fiddling a small bell in her hands. Chaff scowled. "What's that?"
Juliana looked up, a look of anguish in her eyes. "Oh, this? This was my father's. My parents died when I was five."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Chaff said. Orphaned kids were pretty common in Eleven. Juliana's story wasn't too surprising to Chaff, not when it was one he had heard so many times, over and over again.
Juliana sighed. "Yeah. This was the only job I could get. I hate it, though."
Chaff stared at her. She hated her job. That explained her apparent lack of enthusiasm towards the Hunger Games in general. He stared at her, the way she fiddled that rusty yet precious bell, the way she stared at the walls of his room with a sort of distaste, the way her lips quivered when she talked about the Capitol. She almost seemed like a rebellious lady. But he knew that she wasn't. Just someone who probably didn't like the system, that was all. "'I bet Melanthios and Melania love their jobs, though. They seemed to be mocking us with those costumes."
Juliana laughed without humour. "Oh, yeah, those costumes. I have no idea what they were thinking!"
Chaff rolled his eyes. "Ugh, the entire nation was watching! If only I could find some way to get them back for this."
Suddenly, Juliana's eyes lit up brighter than a lightbulb. She stared at him with wide, eager eyes, like a dog who wanted to play. Chaff raised an eyebrow. Juliana flashed a wicked grin. "I know how to take revenge."
She whispered something in Chaff's ear. Chaff smirked. "You know what, Juliana? I think I like you. Let's do this."
In the dead of night, past the stroke of midnight, when everyone, tributes, mentors, escorts, stylists, Avoxes and guards, had gone off to bed, Chaff and Juliana snuck out of their respective rooms. Juliana had purchased two cans of spray paint from a nearby store, one of which she gave to Chaff. Chaff rolled it around in his palms, a coy smile on his face. The spray paint was different from the one the Masked Merchants sold in District Eleven's black market, the Lost Street. This one was definitely of a much higher quality, a quality of paint that he and Satsuma could only dream of using. But tonight, it would suit their plans perfectly. He and Juliana snuck into Melanthios's room first, planning on hearing over to Melania's after they were done with Melanthios, and got straight to work, knowing that the huge sleeping pill they had slipped into both stylists' drinks would keep them knocked out for the duration of the 'procedure'.
"AHHH!" Chaff looked up from his breakfast, concealing his smile, as Melanthios and Melania's high-pitched shrieks emerged from their rooms. Seeder and Orchid exchanged confused glances. Juliana looked confused on the outside too, although Chaff knew that deep inside, she was struggling not to burst out laughing. Orchid and Seeder walked over to the stylists' rooms and opened their doors. Inside was the biggest mess they had ever seen in their lives. Melanthios was spray-painted a hot shade of pink, with black swirls around his face and wrists. A pair of sneakers had been glued to the top of his head and his feet were bound with purple ribbons. His room was simply a masterpiece of bright colours and piles of confetti. Shades of red, green, purple, grey, blue, yellow and many more colours were splashed across the room, and on the wall behind his bed was a hilarious drawing of Melanthios dressed in Chaff's rotten strawberry outfit, with the Capitol crowd throwing literal rotten strawberries as he tumbled over his chariot. Melania had met a similar fate, except she was spray-painted a devilish shade of red and snippets of hair had been cut off. A similar painting of her in that god-awful strawberry costume appeared on the walls. It was a catastrophe. Not even Seeder or Orchid could hide their smiles. Considering the pair's history of racism against their dark-skinned tributes and their derogatory remarks about people from the Districts, not to mention their constant spreading of rumours relating to Orchid and Seeder, this seemed like a fair form of justice. Even Cassava broke a smile. Chaff took a moment to appreciate his artwork, basking in its silly glory. He had done many wonderful pieces before, but none could ever truly match the sheer splendour of Melanthios and Melania: Les Idiots. Chaff secretly fist-bumped Juliana.
"Well done," he whispered. "Not bad for a Capitolian.
Juliana gave him a cheeky smirk. "I'm a sucker for these kinds of pranks. We'll be doing more in your Victory Tour, I hope."
Chaff hoped so too. After all, if he wanted to continue pulling these pranks and making art, he had to survive the arena, a task easier said than done. But he was going to do it. For Satsuma, Sam, Eric, Plantain and his parents, all of whom were anxiously watching the big screens back home, desperately hoping for a miracle. And for Juliana and Seeder too, who had been ever so kind to him after his Reaping.
Chaff Mitchell was going to spray paint his way to victory! Okay, maybe not spray paint, but you get the point, he was going to win!
Chaff gazed out at the scene ahead. The tubes had malfunctioned during their launch, trapping them in an enclosed underground space for a minute or so, but in the end, they were still brought to the arena without much hassle. Chaff gritted his teeth, observing his surroundings carefully. Thankfully, this year, there didn't seem to be any cunning Lymes or Irises or perfectionist brutes like Brutus or Freya. But that didn't make the Career pack any less frightening. Careers that didn't seem to pose a threat could end up winning, Cartier, Coral and Crystal were prime examples of that. District Four, in particular, looked set to thrive in this arena. The Cornucopia was placed in the centre of a wooden island in the middle of a crystal blue lake, with wooden boardwalks leading far and away to other glistening lakes that sparkled dizzying hues of blue, up towering cliffs with water tumbling down their rock faces and into dark, ominous caves that reeked of trouble and mutts. But the lakes made up the vast majority of the arena. That gave District Four a huge advantage, unless the waters were infested with mutts. Thankfully, Chaff could swim. There was a lake in Town 1, one he had been pushed into by Peacekeepers before, and a lake that he and Satsuma used to swim in when they were younger, before they were tossed into full-time labour. He wasn't the strongest swimmer, certainly not as good as that mysterious Victor from the Thirty-Fourth Games was rumoured to be. But he could still swim. Judging by the looks on the faces of the other tributes, including the Twos, that already gave him an edge over two-thirds of the other kids. He fiddled the can in his pocket. "I'm coming home," he vowed. "I'm coming home."
The gong rang and all the tributes rushed forward, except for the boy from Seven and the girl from Three, both of whom sprinted off.
They got lucky. Instantly, the weight of the tributes combined with the sheer pressure exerted by the Cornucopia and all its supplies proved too much to handle for the wooden island, which collapsed just as Chaff grabbed an urumi from the heart of the Cornucopia. One moment he was ready to strike the boy from Five, the next thing he knew, he was sent tumbling into the freezing waters below. "Oh, shit!" he yelped once his body came into contact with the icy liquid, threatening to freeze him into a gigantic ice cube. All around him was utter chaos. The tributes were splashing about, trying to grab floating supplies, swim away or just remain afloat. Chaff spluttered a mouthful of water. Yikes, that was worse than the water back home, which was already of a terrible quality. He held his urumi and dragged a floating green backpack towards him, clenching its straps between his teeth and swimming towards the shore. Just then, he felt a rough, almost desperate hand grab his ankle. He spun around and swung his urumi, smacking the boy from Five in his death. The whipped blade sliced into his forehead, knocking him unconscious as he sank into his watery grave. Chaff continued swimming away, pushing past floating crates and trying hard not to gag as the water slowly turned a nasty shade of blood red. Tributes began kicking, screaming, thrashing around. The Fours, however, had the upper hand, drowning several tributes with ease. Chaff reached the shore and pulled himself up. Looking back, he grimaced at the sight of floating bodies and tributes staining the once pristine blue waters red with blood as they struck, bit, tore, eager to kill. They were like those shark thingies from Four, ruthless, aggressive, unpredictable. Chaff didn't hang around for much longer. The girl from Four had spotted him and was swiftly making her way over with swift, strong strokes. He turned and bolted away, soaking wet, but alive. "Bloody hell, that was intense," he murmured to himself, swerving to his left into a cave before taking off his shirt, much to the delight of many of the Capitolian female viewers, to dry it off. It turned out, it wasn't just intense for the tributes, sixteen of whom either drowned or were killed in the Bloodbath. It was also intense for some of the Gamemakers who were standing in line to have their heads chopped off by President Snow, a furious look in his eyes. After the disaster of Rafael's Games, not a chance he was tolerating another arena malfunction.
Chaff stayed in his cave. He didn't go too far in, though. No way he was going to risk encountering some form of bat mutt. Unbeknownst to him, on the other side of the arena, the girl from Three had done the opposite, venturing as deep into her cave as possible to hide from the remnants of the Career pack, eventually running into a brood of winged snakes and some rabid bats. Her death had been nothing short of horrible, to say the least. Chaff tossed his can into the air, humming some tunes from back home as he paced around in circles as water dripped from the cave roof above, their drips echoing throughout the walls, forming a sort of crude percussion to Chaff's humming. He had his urumi by his side, waiting for a tribute to arrive and face him off, but no one came. Not like it mattered for Chaff. The last thing he wanted was to encounter that pair from Four, the ones who had a combined total of ten kills between them. They were frightening in this arena. The odds were definitely in their favour. But Chaff wasn't going to sit there and let them find everyone, gaining sponsors while slowly starved. He wanted to get out of this stupid arena and he wanted to do it ASAP. So, on the third day, he grabbed his supplies and headed out, ready to take on the other tributes.
Just a shame the first things he found were the crab mutts.
They were a bright, bloody shade of red, with not two, but four, huge, razor-sharp, metallic pincers. Each crab was at least as tall as a small toddler and had a long, whip-like tail that dripped fresh blood. Its eyes were something else, though. Chaff gasped when he saw her. Cassava. He could recognise her eyes from anywhere, and there they were, her dead eyes staring in a bored manner at him from one of the crab mutts. Another had the glowing silver eyes of the girl from One, and a third had the large, brown eyes of the boy from Five, the boy Chaff had killed. All of their eyes seemed to rip holes within him, tearing him apart with guilt. All fo a sudden, the memory of the boy from Five's bloody forehead came to mind, then Cassava crying into his arms on the night before the Games, mourning her own horrific life and its inevitably bloody end. Chaff bit his lip as he remembered seeing her body floating on the lake, face down, with two spears pierced through her and blood squirting out like the Grim Reaper's personalised Fountain of Death. Chaff choked back a sob as he raised his urumi. He was going to kill this crab mutt. Yes, this crab mutt. This wasn't Cassava, he told himself firmly. This wasn't her! He struck Cassava's mutt in the forehead, ripping into flesh as the mutt stumbled into the water. He grimaced, thinking of Cassava, and how that would be the last time he would ever see her eyes. It wasn't fair, what the Capitol did to her. But throwing mutts at him wasn't exactly fair either! He barely had time to dodge another crab mutt that came charging at him, snapping its pincers ferociously, aiming to strike him down. He tumbled to the ground, barely avoiding a tumble into the lakes. The crab mutt struck again, this time aiming for his head. Chaff swung his urumi, deflecting its pincers. However, the crab mutt lunged at him again, knocking his urumi, his only weapon, into the water. Chaff watched in dismay as it sunk beneath the rippling waters, lost forever. He gulped. Shit. He was weaponless, up against an army of crab mutts. And unlike Cartier, he didn't have any watches with poisoned spikes or something of that sort. So he did the sensible thing.
He ran for his life! He nearly slipped as he skidded across the slippery wooden boardwalk, the crabs snapping and stomping their way towards him, screeching high-pitched squeals that nearly broke Chaff's eardrums. "Seeder! Juliana!" he cried out, waving his hands in desperation. "Help!" His shoe tripped on a loose nail and Chaff went tumbling to the ground, groaning in pain as his ankle hit the ground with a hard thud. Well, this just got even worse. Now he had a bloody sprained ankle to deal with. Chaff gnashed his teeth, cursing as the crab mutts approached, clicking their pincers menacingly, glaring at him as if contemplating how best to gobble him up. Chaff backed away in a futile attempt to escape. "Seeder!" he yelled, his voice strained from exhaustion. "I need some help over here!" Just then, he saw it. The parachute, slowly floating towards him like a gentle drop of miracle from heaven. His lips curled into a smile as he caught it mid-air and quickly opened it. His smile instantly vanished. It was a can of spray paint. "What the- Oh you have got to be kidding me!" He flung the parachute into the water, growling in fury at this useless excuse of a sponsor. A can of spray paint? What was he going to do, paint the crab mutts to death? At this rate, he was going to die of sheer frustration! "Seriously, Seeder?" he groaned. The crab mutts inched closer. With no other choice, Chaff raised the can and sprayed some red spray paint into the crab's face, screaming at the top of his lungs as he did. Immediately, the crab mutt screeched in pain as its face began to disintegrate rapidly, crumbling to a red, gooey powder. Chaff stumbled backwards. "What?" The spray paint was toxic! He licked his lips in anticipation. This was probably even better than the urumi. He raised the can again as the crab mutts slowly retreated, their tiny eyes widening at the sight of this toxic spray that had so easily disintegrated one of their own. A cheeky grin appeared on Chaff's face. "Hey, who wants to play?"
The final battle was set. It would be District Four vs Chaff. Chaff trudged across the boardwalks, past towering waterfalls, well aware that the odds were very much against him. But he had his spray. He wasn't sure about its effectiveness on humans, but he hoped that he could easily disintegrate the Fours. Because if they dived into the water and pulled him along, he was screwed. Juliana had been able to purchase some bottles of water for sustenance, which was odd considering they were in an arena full of lakes filled with fresh water, until Chaff had seen the boy from Seven drink from the lakes, only to collapse in a fit of boils. The only non-toxic water available was back at the Cornucopia lake, and even that wasn't very refreshing. It dried up the tributes' throats, quickening dehydration. So the bottle of water was vital for survival. Chaff gazed around him. The scene was quiet. Eerily quiet. There was a deafening silence, the most terrifying sound you could possibly hear in the arena. For all he knew, the pair from Four were behind him, ready to pounce, or in the shimmering waters below, ready to leap forth and tackle him into the water. The silence was simply unbearable. "Come on, come out, come out, wherever you are," he murmured, chewing his lip nervously. He rounded a corner, cautiously holding his can of toxic spray paint out. And then he saw her. The girl from Four, Lynn, stood with her back turned, soaking wet from head to toe, gripping a knife tightly in her hands. Chaff rushed forward. This was his chance to make an easy kill! He had to take it! It was now or never. He leapt at her and squeezed the pump, unleashing a monsoon of toxic red spray paint right at the bewildered girl's face. Splat! Lynn screamed as the paint made contact with her skin, quickly turning it into a pile of red, bloody ash. The cannon boomed. Chaff was grateful that Lynn was downed and dusted.
But he had forgotten about her District partner Nereus.
He heard him coming way too late. The footsteps had been unbelievably quiet. Chaff only heard him charging forward at the last second. He dodged, but he wasn't fast enough. His hand exploded in a nightmarish explosion of pure pain straight from hell. He let out a loud, agonised scream as Nereus swung his sword, slicing his hand off and taking the spray can with it. Blood spewed out like red, hot lava flowing out of a volcano that had burst on Chaff's wrist. A sharp, excruciating pain burned through him, as if his arm had been dipped in a fiery cauldron of molten metal in a forge. Chaff howled, the tears starting to rain down his cheeks as he narrowly dodged a second swing from Nereus.
The pain nearly made him give up.
The sheer agony nearly made him give up.
But then Satsuma, Sam, Eric, Plantain, heck, even Juliana and Seeder and poor, dead, Cassava, they all flashed into his mind. "Win," they all said in unison, their words hoisting him to his feet. Chaff dove as Nereus swung at him again, getting more than a little frustrated by this annoying boy who just wouldn't die. Chaff dove straight for that yucky hand of his, and pried the spray can from the now cold, stiff organ that, only a minute ago, had been attached to his arm. But he wasn't going to think about that. Not now. Nereus screamed as Chaff whirled around and pushed the pump, screaming, "TAKE THIS!" so loudly, the miners all the way in District Twelve probably heard him loud and clear. The boy's face disintegrated and his cannon boomed.
But Chaff didn't hear the cannon, nor did he hear the Victory trumpets that sounded soon after.
He had blacked out from physical and mental exhaustion, mixed in with the tremendously overwhelming pain of losing a hand.
But he was coming home!
Back in District Eleven, Satsuma burst into tears of joy, falling to her knees and thanking her lucky stars as the rest of the District cheered on their newest Victor, some even giving the once sceptical Peacekeepers smug looks. Finally, one of their boys was coming home!
Katniss and Peeta had a moment of silence for the fallen Victor boy from District Eleven. "You know," Katniss murmured softly. "He was Thresh's mentor. He told Thresh not to kill me. I-If it wasn't for him..." She trailed off, but nothing more needed to be said.
Peeta sighed, giving Chaff a pitiful look. "He was a great guy. Rest in peace, Chaff."
"Rest in peace," Katniss echoed.
With that, the pair moved on. Peeta flipped the page, revealing the photograph of a girl with shoulder-length black hair and olive skin. She stared somewhat blankly ahead, a shy, half-smile, half-scowl imprinted on her face. Her hands clutched onto a piece of copper wire tightly, as if it were her only source of energy. Beetee stood by her side, a hand on her shoulder in a comforting sort of gesture, the other hand holding out a cue card for her to read off. Nikola stood directly behind her, in a more protective stance, as if to guard her against the crowd glaring below. As for Gadget, she stood off to the side, but still kept a watchful yet dead-looking eye on the girl. Katniss hung her head. "I-I should have-"
"It wasn't your fault," Peeta reassured her. His gaze shifted back to the name below the photograph. Sighing deeply, he read out, "Wiress Jansen."
VICTORS
District 1-Sapphire Huntington(4), Onyx Hibonite(9), Franc Montgomery(14), Crystal Montgomery(21), Sterling Jones(25), Luxe Carmichael(36), Geneva Cooper(37), Cartier Cooper(44)
District 2-Ragnar Sveinsson(5), Reyna Boudicca(6), Draco Hadley(10), Scipio MacAllister(17), Freya Carson(22), Hercules Nichols(28), Julia Dawson(39), Brutus Gunn(42), Lyme Sveinsson(45)
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), Coral Thiller(41)
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), Mare Trybull (43)
District 11-Orchid Bloom(12), Seeder Crue(30), Chaff Mitchell(46)
District 12-Axel Millar(3)
A/N: So, there we have it, Chaff! He's someone I was rooting for to make it out of the Quell arena, along with Wiress, Mags, Cecelia and the Morphlings (as you can tell, I'm pretty shit at predicting who would survive in the book, haha) So, at any rate, there are a couple of important announcements, the first being the changing book covers. I'll put in a Google Drive of all the Victors in art form maybe after my examination period (pls remind me around mid-October, I have a terrible memory haha) and of course, Blue Moon, the SYOT I've been planning out as my next fanfic. As I said, read my profile for the details that I've come up with so far (definitely subject to changes here and there) and I'll open the submissions maybe around the 72nd Games because this story will have approximately 80 chapters in total. As usual, don't forget to review and leave your thoughts and as always, I'll see you guys next time. Cheers:)