Chapter 50: Haymitch Abernathy
A/N: District Twelve is back at last with their second Victor and it's a very familiar face here! We all know how Haymitch won his Games, but have you ever spared a thought for the other 47 tributes who were Reaped? These are their journeys to the arena, and all their final, hallowed moments before being launched to their graveyards...
P.S. Join my new Discord server! Link is in my profile
P.S.S. A couple of things may have strayed from canon, but the gist is generally the same
Haymitch chuckled as he tapped on the old photograph of him during his Victory Tour. "Well, well, well, would you believe it? That's me, right there."
Katniss resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Yeah, Haymitch. We can tell."
Haymitch's smile slowly began to fade as he continued to stare at the photograph. "I can remember everything so vividly. It was horrible." He shook his head. "And that's all from me, folks. I'm gonna go grab another drink."
As he left, Peeta glanced at the photo, a sad look clouding over his eyes. "Forty-eight tributes went into that arena. God, that must've been so awful."
Katniss sighed. "Yeah, I know. But I'm glad that he made it out."
Haymitch Abernathy
District 12
Aged 16
4 Kills
District 1:
Diamond Montgomery marched up to the square, a confident smirk on her gorgeous face. She flaunted her brilliant white dress and silver headress, giving the other, poorer commoner girls sly sneers. They were so awfully pathetic, Diamond had to wonder, why they even bothered to live in the first place. They had nothing compared to her, none of her riches, none of her wealth, and certainly none of her power. They were worthless, just kids hopelessly out of their depth in what was supposed to be the crown jewel of the Districts. Diamond squirmed and pushed her way past the crowds, keeping her chin lofted and high, a gesture of high status. All around her, the girls began to scowl as they were pushed to the ground by Diamond's strong, muscular arms. As for the boys, they couldn't help but stare, in a different manner from the girls. Diamond swayed her hips slightly, giving them flirtatious winks. She was sexy and she knew it. Arriving at the special section reserved for the nobles, she stood amongst her sisters and cousins, keeping in mind that she had to act proper. The cameras focused solely on this section for the noble children, so as to give the impression that everyone in District One was rich and well-mannered. And besides, the Careers volunteered as soon as a name was read, so there was no need for the cameras to pan over and show those worthless little creatures known as commoners. As the escort hopped onto the stage, Diamond felt a rush of pride when her fellow noble girls began to shoot her envious looks. This was her year, the year that Diamond Montgomery won the Games. This was her chance to restore her family's honour and she wasn't going to let it slip!
Just a shame the axe had to come flying at her. Stupid forcefield.
"Ready, Fi?" Milan Montgomery asked his twin sister, Fiona Montgomery.
Fiona gave him a cunning smirk, one that Milan had grown used to seeing. "Oh, you bet." This year, both of them had been selected to volunteer, which was rather problematic, as it meant that one of them had to die in the arena. Neither Fiona nor Milan wanted their twin to die, but it would be inevitable. Fiona had reluctantly agreed that, since Milan frequently sabotaged Montgomery family possessions and was bound to get caught soon, Milan would die to save Fiona. It was a tough decision, but Milan was more than happy to die in order for his twin sister to be happy and alive. The escort came up onto the stage and the Reapings were soon underway. Milan, however, could hardly pay attention. His heart was pounding against his chest. Could he really do this? Could he really volunteer? The real answer was, heck no! He was just a scared, terrified young boy and despite his many years of training and apparent skill, was not keen on dying anytime soon. But he had to, to save Fiona. He had to die for his twin sister. But it was going to be oh so hard. His teeth chattered as the female tributes were Reaped. When Fiona raised her hand to volunteer, he forced himself to swallow the bile rising up his throat, in hot pursuit of the two famed words. Then a boy's name was called. Milan took a deep breath. This was it. No going back. He had to, he had to do it now!
"I volunteer!"
Milan met a rather embarrassing end, being killed by that kid from Twelve, a death that wasn't well-received by the Montgomeries. But who could blame him, really? His mind was utterly messed up after Fiona was killed in that volcanic eruption
Tuscany Cooper wanted to volunteer so damn badly. It had been a childhood dream of his, to go into the arena and win the top prize. Years of watching Careers from District One, including his own uncle Cartier and aunt Geneva, enter the Hunger Games and brutally murder other children, it filled his eyes with awe and wonder. He didn't care that his family gave him weird looks whenever he brought the subject up. He didn't care that both Geneva and Cartier themselves had objected to his decision to enter the Career Academy. He didn't care that he was the only one in the family who celebrated when he was chosen to be one of District One's volunteers for the Second Quell. All he cared about was the chance, the opportunity to kill and satisfy his bloodlust. Also, the honour of winning a Hunger Games against not twenty-three, but forty-seven tributes, wasn't so bad either. He might actually break the kill record! What was it, twelve? He couldn't remember. But Geneva had once vaguely mentioned some kid from Four who had fifteen kills. Yeah, Tuscany could beat that, hands down! His moment had arrived, and he was definitely going to seize it! "I VOLUNTEER!"
Tuscany soon regretted his decision. And Maysilee's dart marked the end of an extremely miserable arena experience.
District 2:
Diana Henderson stood on the stage, flashing a wide, malicious grin. Beneath her, the audience cheered her on wildly, shouting and chanting her name as if she were a goddess who had come straight down from heaven. That was the level of fanatism towards the Games in District Two, Diana knew that the poor, snivelling Outliers thought of them as the Capitol's lapdogs, willing to lick President Snow's boots and button his shirts, but in Diana's opinion, they were just seizing the opportunity. The Hunger Games wasn't a time for mourning, a Judgement Day, a deathmatch, no, it was a business opportunity. Being well-known for being an opportunist around District Two, she desperately wanted to volunteer. After all, the profits were right there, just waiting for her to claim them!
Well, Diana did claim something. A bloody death at the hands of Haymitch, who shoved her into the forcefield.
Nike Portman and her brother Corporal Portman were enemies from the womb. The second pair of Career siblings who volunteered, their relationship was a lot more skewed than Milan and Fiona's. Nike was the older sister, and she bossed Corporal around to no end for nine years, igniting a fiery hate within the bitter-hearted Corporal, who proceeded to dump a pile of horse manure on her, in the middle of an important speech she had to give. Oh, the humiliation! After so many years of being tossed around like a rag doll, Corporal couldn't help but burst out laughing at her mortified expression. But all that did, in the end, was ignite a vicious war between the siblings, a war that did not end as they were taken into the Justice Building. They began to wrestle, tumbling to the ground, screaming and pulling at each other's hair, shouting the choicest selection of insults at one another as they punched, kicked, jabbed, bit, struck. A whole squadron of Peacekeepers had to be deployed just to separate the pair, and even then, a Peacekeeper got a nasty scratch on his cheek and another one ended up with bruised ribs. Diana shook her head as she gazed at this bizarre scene that had just unfolded around her. These two were not Victor quality, period.
Diana was right. Neither was anywhere near the crown. Their arguments eventually led to both of them being swallowed up by the oncoming surge of lava, not exactly the prettiest way to die, but hey, at least they died in each other's arms, even though by that time, Nike had torn out Corporal's ear and Corporal had smashed Nike's wrists.
Basilisk Lim had no one to visit him. He just sat in the Justice Building, quietly humming to himself as he rocked back and forth in his chair, waiting for the hour to end. He had been abandoned by his parents, dumped in a reed basket in front of a lonely orphanage in the middle of a mountain village. Everyone assumed that because of his myopia, he would never be anything more than a stonemason. He had proven all the doubters wrong. Becoming the top Academy graduate, Basilisk was unstoppable in combat, showing few signs of weakness, if any. Even Draco admitted he was one of District Two's finest tributes in history, a statement that Basilisk took to heart. The Games were surely over before they had even begun, right? Basilisk stared down at the little rock pendant in his hands, smirking and chuckling to himself as he did so, imagining all the wonderful possibilities that would come true after his Victory. He could live in a nice house, have all the money in the world, befriend the Victors, be popular, get a girlfriend, oh, the possibilities! As the hour drew to a close, Basilisk stood up, balling his fists and staring intently ahead. He was ready for anything.
Except for lava, that is. The lava that burned through his shoulder. But in spite of this, his own cocky arrogance had led him to join in the attack on Haymitch. It was a fairly straightforward kill for Haymitch in the end.
District 3:
Click Calvert sobbed as she hugged her father, the tears falling like a roaring waterfall down her freckled face. Her father couldn't speak, he hadn't spoken all his life, his lips had never uttered so much a peep. But he desperately mouthed at her, trying to convey a message across. Win. Click shook her head, sniffling as she hung her head, letting even more tears fall. She had nothing, no skills, no tricks up her sleeve, she was so bloody hopeless! Be like Wiress, like Beetee, like Nikola, her father mouthed, clutching her closer as he too, began to shed some tears. Click shook her head. How could she? She wasn't even close to being the smartest kid in class! How could she possibly replicate their tricks? There was no chance of her winning. Click knew that right from the start. The door swung open and several Peacekeepers streamed in, dragging her father away. "No, Dad, no!" Click wailed, stretching her arms out and holding her father's rough hands for the final time. He gave her a pined, desperate look. I love you very much, he mouthed. More than anything in the world! And then he was gone. Click fell to the ground, clawing at her hair and crying in agony. Her life was about to end soon.
Click was the only tribute besides Haymitch to remain unfazed by the beauty of the arena. Unlike Haymitch, though, she didn't even try and stood there, crying her eyes out until Milan came over and mercifully ended her sorrows.
Selsyn O'Rourke sat in the large, black car, alongside her fellow tributes and the escort. Beside her, the other female tribute, Click, was still crying her eyes out. The boys were discussing some sort of tactic, at least that was what she presumed. The escort was chattering away with the driver, and probably flirting with him, judging by her body language and eyes. Selsyn, however, couldn't hear a thing. She was born deaf, an orphan who had worked in the factories since she was eight. The sheer intensity of child labour had taken its toll on her, leaving her without her left hand and with minor breathing problems. Her life was a living hellhole, and she couldn't wait for it to end. That was why when she was Reaped, she had cried. Everyone looked at her with pitiful gazes, and were probably talking about how sorry they felt for her. But what no one knew was, those were tears of joy. She was glad to be able to go in and die fighting! She had pranced around the room in the Justice Building, clapping and laughing hysterically like some sort of maniac. And now, here she was, in the car, approaching the train platform, ready to die in the arena. One of the boys nudged her. He mouthed something about alliances, but Selsyn shook her head, giving him a weak smile as he sighed and turned to ask Click. The car pulled over and the door opened. Selsyn hopped out, giving her down-in-the-dumps District one, final bitter glance, before jumping onto the train, a silly grin on her face. It was finally happening, she was going to die!
Before she died, Selsyn made one, final rebellious gesture, to thank the Capitol for all they had done for her. She slipped some extra crackers out of the fridge and after evading security, secretly handed them to that boy from Twelve, Haymitch, the boy who had talked with her for a while during training. Those crackers helped to sustain him for a while, although at the end of the Games, all they did was add further proof that Haymitch needed to be taught a lesson.
Hack Sharif and Codey Clayton became fast friends. They were both fifteen and excellent hackers. Their combined IQ of 400 was more than remarkable, with no other tribute even coming anywhere close to being as smart as them. Heck, even Click and Selsyn's combined IQ of 350 paled in comparison to theirs! The problem was, both boys were scrawny from malnourishment, and to say that they were physically weak would be the understatement of the century. Between the two of them, Hack was a decently fast runner, but Codey had an absolutely shambolic running speed. But he was also more resourceful, and knew how to tie knots, which was a big plus. The minute they got onto the train, they had gone to their rooms with Nikola and Beetee. Then, they began to scheme, coming up with a million different plans to counter a million different things that could go wrong in the arena. Even their mentors were impressed that Hack managed to come up with a full tactical presentation within five minutes, and that Codey was able to look at a list of one hundred poisonous plants for one minute and then recite all of them flawlessly five minutes later. Nikola leaned over and told Beetee, "You know what? I think we might get fortunate this year. These tributes display exceptionally high levels of intelligence."
Beetee nodded. "Yes, but we need to work on their fighting skills."
Nikola frowned. "Ah, right. That seems to be our problem every year," he muttered, sighing as he went to grab some coffee.
Hack and Codey might be smart, but as Beetee had pointed out, their fighting skills were a huge problem. When confronted by the Careers, Codey was unable to put up much of a fight and his throat was promptly slit by Basilisk. As for Hack, he managed to run away, but just an hour later he grew thirsty and tried to drink from a river, one that was full of piranha mutts that dragged him into the water and sliced him to bits, leaving nothing but a chewed-up skeleton of the young genius.
District 4:
Pomfret Tigges was angry. And when Pomfret was angry, she got what she wanted. The cousin of the late and frankly rather foolish former captain of the Red Crew, Atoll Carvalho, Pomfret was mad that she hadn't been made the new captain of the glory-smattered pirate crew. Instead, her cousin Logan had been chosen. Logan was a year younger and far more inexperienced. For goodness sake, he was the ship's cook! The bloody cook! Pomfret had been Atoll's second-in-command, she deserved to be captain, not Logan! She hadn't even been appointed interim captain while Atoll was in the arena, that title had gone to Logan! She seethed, furious at this final sick joke by her douchebag of a cousin Atoll. So she had made the ultimate challenge for Logan. Both of them would volunteer and the Victor would come home and be the new captain. Like the idiot that he was, Logan had agreed. So both of them had volunteered and now both of them were on the train, giving each other stern glares. Jolien sighed, burying her face in her hands. "Pirates again? What did I do to deserve this?" she moaned, banging her head against a wall.
"Take my favourite shoes?" Timmy said, giving her an innocent smile.
"You know I didn't take them, Timmy," Jolien snapped. "That was Mags!"
Pomfret was by all means the better captain. But she couldn't escape the burning lava that slammed into her face as she woke up, giving her a rather rude wake-up call, albeit one in the afterlife.
Emma Easton didn't fancy her odds of winning. She had never been the best at anything. Always awfully average, she was just a plain seventeen-year-old fisher who was on the periphery of Coral Thiller's football team, occasionally playing but never nailing down a role in the squad. It was the same scenario in school. She would always be the median in terms of grades, and bang average in terms of looks and popularity. In the Career Academy, she didn't excel at anything, but wasn't especially poor at anything either. She could throw a knife, swing a sword, tie a knot, make a fire, identify poisonous plants and all that, just not with absolute proficiency. So, what chance did she have at winning the Games? As the blue, crystal clear lakes and rivers of District Four appeared to zoom by as she sat on the train, Marina took a seat next to her. She tried to give Emma a pep talk, but Emma wasn't interested. She knew she was going to finish either twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth, and once again, be the median. The odds were never in her favour.
Emma was right. She finished twenty-fourth, after eating a peach that gave her a fatal heart attack. Absolutely bang average in training, she had gotten a seven, and in the Career Pack, never got a foothold in their social circle and was quickly forgotten after her death.
Palawan Turner was afraid of heights. It was a strange, irrational fear that he had never been able to explain, but every time he stood on high ground, his insides would squirm and his head would spin like a tornado, whirling around and eventually leading to him passing out. So when the train decided to break down right as they were passing a tall, narrow ridge, you can bet he was scared! He stared down at the sheer drop, at the fierce waves angrily smashing into the jagged, knife-like rocks below the ridge, getting dizzier by the minute as the workers from Six rushed to fix the engine. It didn't help that those two crazy pirates, Pomfret and Logan, were constantly prodding him, cruelly mocking him for his weakness.
"Hey!" Pomfret shouted, clasping his head and forcing him to look down the cliff. His vision began to blur, and Palawan closed his eyes, trying to contain the vomit quickly churning and climbing up his throat. Logan rushed over and put his fingers at his eyelids, keeping them open.
"Scared, little boy?" he sneered, spitting in his face. Palawan squirmed, both from the disgusting spit on his cheek and the awful vertigo he was experiencing. Oh gosh, why did the have to pick on him?
"N-no, please..." he stammered, struggling to hold in his vomit.
Pomfret cackled as she grabbed him by the waist and hoisted the upper half of his body out the window, causing him to scream at the top of his lungs. "Like that, you son of a bitch?" she sneered.
Palawan yelped, a tear sliding down his cheek as the wind howled at him. If Pomfret released him, oh no, why did he have to think of that? He couldn't hold it in any longer. The vomit erupted out of his mouth, like a steady waterfall.
Palawan managed to kill Selsyn in the Bloodbath, which got him into the Career Pack, but he was constantly bullied, and met his end after drowning in hot lava. But he did hold the distinction of being the only tribute to figure out that it was Haymitch who triggered the eruption with some sponsored chemicals. Unlike Haymitch, though, he hadn't been able to escape with his life.
Logan Seferovic
Logan was downright annoying. Jolien simply couldn't stand him. Or Pomfret, for that matter, but Logan was far worse. Sexist, rash and just an awful pirate of a Career tribute in general. She couldn't stand the lustful looks he shot at Emma, nor could she stand all the constant arguing with Pomfret, that snooty, absolutely stupid volunteer. She had never expected that she would ever utter those words. Volunteer. From District Four? This was doomsday-level stuff! She sighed, wiping the sweat off her forehead as she was forced to sit down and listen to Logan brag about his achievements. "You know, I was the greatest cook in history, simply the best, everyone else who says otherwise, is uttering gibberish, fake news. Yeah, fake news, whatever Pomfret tells you, it's fake news," he jabbered on in his strange accent, which, even for District Four was awfully distinct. Then his eyes drifted to her top, and a quirky smirk flashed on his face. "That's a nice top, Jolien. Wonder if I could..." There was no further warning, he lunged forward, that crazed, lustful look n his eyes. Jolien screamed. What the hell? What had gotten into this boy? She grabbed his head and slammed it hard against the floor, screaming for help as she did. Blood streamed out of Logan's head, which produced a sickening crunch sound as it smashed onto the ground. Jolien backed away and gasped, the realisation dawning on her. She had killed a tribute!
Logan finished rock bottom, killed by his own mentor, a murder that was rightfully ruled as an act of self-defence. This time, the Capitol hadn't bothered finding a replacement. So, only forty-seven tributes ever made it into the arena, contrary to popular belief and official records, which listed Logan's death as 'suicide during Bloodbath'.
District 5:
Millie Blackwood literally tore off her costume during the Parade. That was exactly why she wore a shirt and a pair of pants underneath, in spite of the sweltering, unforgiving summer heat, once she was more than used to. But the costume, oh the costume! The stylist wasn't even trying! He clearly had a serious grudge against District Five, always talking trash about the previous tributes, gnarling and complaining about his job, it sickened her to no end. And the final product was a crime against humanity. A gigantic white, cardboard box that already had several food stains on it and topped off with a crude lightning bolt sign drawn in faded blue ink. Simply. Disgraceful. The other tributes were laughing at them! District Five, the worst of the worst! Ugh, how horribly embarrassing! That was why, during the Parade, as the tributes from behind them struggled to contain their laughter, she had ripped the box off and hurled it right at them, the morphling drug addicts yelping as the box came flying at them.
Millie made it quite far, finishing third overall, but eventually falling victim to Diamond's axe. Before that, though, she landed a good stab on her shoulder, weakening her and causing her to mess up her aim when she tried to finish Haymitch off with her final axe.
Marie Maddison was fast. She was the fastest tribute around, no question about that. How did she know? The instant her chariot came to a halt, she zoomed past the tributes, beating the pair from One, who had a full three-minute headstart, to the elevators. Who could blame her? Her costume was, as Millie had so rightfully put it, a crime against humanity! She ran circles around the floor, trying her best to lose the immense stress that had built up in her head. Growing up, this had always been her tactic. Running would cause her to lose focus, so she wouldn't be stressed out. Sounds pretty straightforward, right? Marie eventually tired out at 2 in the morning, plopping on her bed and dozing off, her mind lost in a jumbled-up daze. She was lightning fast, and surely this would be a huge advantage in the arena, right?
Marie relied too heavily on her speed, and showed very poor concentration, crashing into Haymitch as she tried to escape the Bloodbath. The boy from Twelve thought she was initiating an attack and promptly stabbed her. Little did she know, however, just a few years later, another girl from Five named Marie would go all the way and win, but that's a story for later.
Pasteur Jenkinson could not sleep. He just couldn't. A boy who had struggled with insomnia all his life, it was uncommon to see him without dark circles around his sore, red eyes, and a fatigued expression as he lumbered around like a drunken elephant at the research facility that he worked in. Tonight was no different. On his first night in the Capitol, he could hardly sleep a wink. Every time he tried to drift off to sleep, the image of his impoverished parents and starving little sister would pop up in his head, drowning him in a fit of misery and keeping him awake as he tried to drown his sorrows, to no avail. It didn't help that Flash was, once again, in a drunken state and clamoring like a loud nuclear reactor just outside his room. Worse still, he was joined by that other boy from Five, mentor and tribute both having a drunken party and making the biggest ruckus ever. Pasteur clamped his pillows over his ears, groaning in despair. He was never going to get any sleep at this rate!
Pasteur's sleepiness became his downfall, as he struggled to find the energy to run during the Bloodbath, and was sliced to death by Pomfret.
Curien Webster
was as much of a drunken fool as Flash was. The difference was, when drunk, he didn't get into any sort of rampage. Instead, he just ran around creating as much noise as possible. That was exactly what happened on the first night in the Capitol, when both he and Flash had smuggled in crates of beer and began to drink the night away, laughing and smashing stuff as they went and depriving literally everyone of sleep. Even the Twelves could hear them! But Curien didn't care. He just wanted to have fun! The night was young, so why should he stop partying? It took three tranquilliser darts from some of the Peacekeeper guards to end his fun, after receiving a whole load of complaints from all the tributes, mentors and escorts, who were outraged that they were being kept awake by this ruckus.
Curien had a hangover on the first day but somehow managed to stumble into the woods unharmed. The squirrels, however, didn't like his putrid breath, and bit him to death.
District Six:
Haasie Mackenzie and Chevie Allen were frankly quite surprised. Not that they had been Reaped, oh no. They had known ever since the Peacekeepers began threatening their parents after receiving evidence of drug trafficking that they would be targeted for the Reaping. No, what surprised them was that they could shoot pretty well, at least in comparison to the other tributes. The pair had decided to ally with each other on the first night in the Capitol and had together decided to head straight for the archery session on the first day of training. Sure, there were a lot of hiccups and they were far from perfect, but they were shockingly fast learners. Even the trainer was impressed. For the first time since Ford Hamilton's Games, District Six seemed to have a slight glimmer of hope.
Hassie's shooting skills might have been great, but they were not enough to kill off all those bird mutts. As for Chevie, she put up a good fight against the Careers, but was eventually knifed down by Diana.
Renault Kowalski and Max Ayew were, just like the girls from their District, allies too. However, they took a rather different approach to training. In fact, to say that they even trained at all would be a bold statement. The two eighteen-year-old teens, suffering from morphling withdrawal, were content with sitting in a corner and murmuring unknown secrets between each other, secrets they would take to their graves. The Careers tried to unnerve them, but neither boy paid them much attention, and towards the end of the first day of training, got up, took a pair of brushes and a bucket of paint, and began painting on a white sheet of paper, their drawings messy yet somewhat beautiful. The seemingly random splashes of paint and colourful swirls that stained the paper had the strange ability to convey the mental effects of the Games, in ways that no one ever thought was possible.
Renault and Max both died in the Bloodbath, after both boys rushed in to get supplies, only to get killed by Fiona and Corporal respectively.
District 7:
Jane Hall couldn't get her fire started. It was a big issue, one she spent all day in training trying to correct. She knew she could never learn how to use a weapon within three days, so she had been told by Jill to focus on survival skills. She had gotten a fairly decent start to the day at the knot-tying station, but now, at the fire station, she released just how terrible she was at learning a new skill. Jane toiled and tried all day long, and the trainer really tried her best to help her, but it was no use. To put the cherry on top of a miserable training session, she slipped while walking to the bathroom and knocked over a dummy, which knocked over another dummy, and created a chain reaction that resulted in mass destruction of the training facilities. Literally everyone turned to stare at her. Jane's cheeks turned bright red. Oh gosh. She was absolutely mortified! There was only one thing left to do: run for the elevator!
Jane's misery didn't stop there. Nike caught her during the frenzy of the Bloodbath and stabbed her to death.
Ginny Sherman, Euan Nguyen and Linden Noble had a rock-solid alliance. The trio had allied together on the very first night, only leaving out Jane because she cried too much and refused to talk to them. All three of them shared the same passion for singing, and were all part of local choirs across District Seven. They spent training building up survival skills. But their time to shine came during the night. Then, they would create a makeshift stage in the middle of the seventh floor and, together with their mentors, two of their stylists, their escort and a member of their prep team, performed to their hearts' content, turning the night into a festive one with their music, which could be heard all across the Tribute Centre, and also drowned out Flash and Curien's drunken moans in the process, something Millie and Pasteur were extremely grateful for. By dawn, the trio from Seven had been joined by the pair from Five in their brand new alliance.
The alliance was not as strong as they would have thought, with Ginny being decapitated by Diamond during the Bloodbath. Euan sniffed a flower, which caused him to drift off into an eternal sleep. As for Linden, Millie was unable to prevent him from falling victim to Basilisk's spear.
District 8:
Georgia Berger was scared stiff. The best friend of Spinner Pepper, Calico Pepper's sister, Calico had put in extra effort to ensure her safety, but Georgia had already given up. She spent the second day of training at the medicine station, quietly humming as she crafted some simple remedies. Calico had advised her to go to this station, so she had naturally obliged. But unlike Calico, she wasn't particularly good at making medicine. Well, at least the Careers, who barely cared about this station, didn't bother her much. After making a paste to heal wounds, she trudged over to the first aid station, learning how to make bandages and prevent infections and perform CPR. She was a lot better at this, but this was also when the Careers began to notice her. As they walked over, Georgia made a quick dash for the bathroom, and stayed hidden there until she was absolutely sure they had forgotten about her. After all, there were forty-seven tributes around, surely their hands were full after about an hour of hiding in a cubicle, right? Just a shame Diamond was right outside her cubicle, patiently waiting for her to emerge. The slap and beating she had gotten afterwards was the final nail to the coffin which carried the corpses of her self-esteem and confidence.
Georgia's medicines saved her after she ate a poisoned pear, but could not protect her from Maysilee's dart.
Needle Rivera and Stitch Ziyech found love in a hopeless place. The pair had only just met, but they grew affectionate of one another. It only helped that their mentor, Woof, was a hopeless romantic who backed their romantic story until the very end. They simply couldn't help it. Needle thought that Stich was simply the sweetest, kindest boy she had ever met, and Stitch was astounded by Needle's beauty, both on the inside and on the outside. They stuck together in training, holding each other's hand, laughing and generally having a good time as they sauntered from station to station, living in ignorant bliss, very much unlike some of their other fellow tributes, who were utterly miserable. And they weren't shy of sympathisers and admirers either. Every night, Woof would be flooded with inquiries, as Capitolian from all over the city wanted to sponsor these cute lover birds. They were truly together until the bitter end.
Both Needle and Stitch stuck alongside each other, until the volcanic erupted sent boulders that crushed them both.
Alby Longstaff tried to kill himself. He didn't want to die in the arena! That would be too painful. The Careers were bound to give him a slow, torturous death, one that would horrify even the strongest of people in District Eight. So, on the night before the interviews, he decided that the merciful way out would be to jump off the roof of the Tribute Centre. It would be quick, painless, and hassle-free. At one in the morning, he slipped out of his room and tiptoes his way to the elevator. Then, he went up the roof and stood on the ledge, spreading his arms and grinning broadly. This was it. The moment he had to leave this cruel world on search of a better one. He would fly, a dream he had always had as a child. He jumped off the ledge, laughing as he dove through the sky, only to bounce straight back onto the roof. There was no end to his tears after that.
Alby wasn't going to die at the hands of the Careers, instead choosing to jump into the landmines one second too early. But that still didn't unfaze most of the tributes.
District 9:
Tarwe Hesketh was just another gang member, just another member of the Red Devils. So it made sense for her to choose Miller, the former gang leader who was forced to disassociate from the undergound gangs of District Nine due to his Victor status, as her mentor. Miller showed her his skills, taught her his best tactics, and on the night of the interviews, taught her how to be the best speaker in the house. That last bit would prove ineffective, however, as the trio from Seven had been allowed to combine their interview timings in order to perform together alongside their mentors, their performance absolutely rattling the audience. The standing ovation they received afterwards only earned an eye roll from Tarwe. She should be the one in the spotlight, not these worthless little dumbells! Fuming even more as she witnessed Stitch and Needle grab headlines with their cringy and probably fake love story, Tarwe squirmed in her seat. She hated these tributes! She was going to kill them all!
Tarwe really tried too hard. Tuscany managed to bash her head with a Mace in the opening seconds of the Bloodbath.
Pansy Harris-Bellingham was surprised about the audience's reaction to her interview. Being a quiet, shy introvert, she had decided to pull a wildcard and attempt to, with the help of Gwen, pull of the look of a funny tribute during her interview. Gwen had helped her write her jokes and had directed her to Switch and Axel, both of whom, with Gwen's persuasion, helped her think up of several witty responses. Caesar was a massive help too, laughing at even the lamest of her jokes and making sure his questions and responses were in line with her jokes. As for the audience? They laughed their butts off. The roars of laughter, the tears of joy running down some of their cheeks, the jubilant smiles on their faces, Pansy had to pinch herself to make sure she was really awake and that this wasn't just some fantastical dream. It was all real. She stepped off the stage to a rousing applause. She didn't care that Tarwe was shorting her dirty looks. Finally, she had a spotlight on her!
Pansy had increasing confidence when she entered the arena, but was eventually killed by some particularly large venus flytraps.
Triticum Lawrence and Barley Bycroft both had really boring interviews, but the two bakers didn't care. They had known that they wouldn't excel much in front of the cameras, so were they really expecting any other outcome? The duo were content with sitting on velvet couches by the fire in the ninth floor, alongside Laurel, their mentor and the best baker in Panem, chatting and having casual small talk before the Games began. This was their last chance to talk together, to be in a peaceful place, by the warmth of the fire as they munched on warm, soft loaves of bread, filling their tummies with a sense of warmth and calmness they knew they might never feel again. The fire crackled in the fireplace, burning and glowing bright red embers that danced around like a warm, beautiful ballerina. This was how they would live out their last day before entering the arena, and it was, in their eyes, absolutely perfect.
Triticum was killed in the Bloodbath, falling victim to Emma's dagger, while Barley was hunted down and stabbed by Pomfret.
District 10:
Bailey Cruzero and Brooke Mepham were allies who had very different views on how they should spend their final night of peace and safety before being tossed into the Hunger Games arena. Brooke scowled, lying on her bed with a book in her hands as she gazed down at Bailey, who was on the ground doing push-ups. "Ninety-nine, one hundred, one hundred and one," Bailey panted, sweat dribbling down her face as she continued to persevere on, determined to build up some muscle and stamina before the Games began.
Brooke sighed. "Will you quit it?" she muttered. "I think you've done enough."
Bailey shook her head, giving Brooke a stern look. "No, I haven't! I have to train hard, it's just like how Mom and Dad raised me, I cannot stop now!"
Brooke sighed, rolling her eyes exasperatedly as she continued to read her book. A fond lover of mystery novels, Brooke was content with spending her last night in the Capitol curling up in bed with a good old fashioned mystery novel. She couldn't for the life of her figure out why Bailey was trying so hard. The girl never gave herself time to relax. It was weird.
Bailey's efforts only served to exhaust her before the Games, and she failed to chase down Haymitch as he ran off. However, she did pick up the peanuts that he dropped along the way and gobbled them up, not realising that he had dropped them on purpose and that they were, in fact, incredibly lethal. As for Brooke, her days were numbered when the Careers found her and Diana stabbed her through the chest.
Shearer Schiffer and Tex Yilmaz were allies too, although unlike Bailey and Brooke, the pair knew exactly how to pass the time together. By eating steak, of course! The pair had snuck to the kitchen, digging deep into the cupboards and fridges before finding their ultimate prize: the slabs of pork and beef, just waiting to be eaten up. The pair had whipped up a midnight feast in no time, complete with fried potatoes and some orange juice to top it all off. Once the meal was ready, they grinned, raising their glasses of orange juice before practically inhaling the meat steaks, tucking into this hearty, nighttime meal. After all, gaining a few extra pounds before the Games was good, according to John. It could save you from starvation. And like the lax night guard he was, Ray didn't even raise the alarm. Just like he had done with Calico, he chose to ignore them, instead of looking away as they ate on. That food was making him hungry too! And unlike the boys, he couldn't possibly afford to gain any more weight. His potbelly was a clear indication of that.
Neither Shearer nor Tex had to worry about starvation, but neither were immune to the volcanic eruption.
District 11:
Apple Morecambe, Judy Ilunga and Patrick Ilungaformed an alliance. Judy and Patrick were siblings and Apple was their cousin, so this alliance was pretty obvious right from the start. There was no question, however, that they were pretty weak. Judy was the oldest, at thirteen years of age, while both Apple and Patrick were twelve. All three had gotten scores of three during training, very pitiful scores that would get them absolutely no sponsors. None of their interviews particularly stood out either. They were weak, pathetic and awfully hopeless. Their night was spent crying into each other's arms, bemoaning their fate and weeping for their inevitable deaths. Seeder refused to give up and tried her very best to motivate them, giving them talks and trying to lighten their spirits, and while they did feel slightly better at the end of it all, they still had no belief in themselves, and were resigned to dying horrible deaths.
Apple was speared by Diana, finishing 45th overall, with Judy and Patrick soon following her into the afterlife after being stabbed by Pomfret and Milan respectively.
Rake Timber, on the other hand, spent the night boxing. The strong, eighteen-year-old boy with a criminal family, he remained spiteful of the Capitol after his entire family was executed. He blamed them for all of his and District Eleven's problems, and rightfully so. And he vowed to win and show them who was boss. In the middle of the night, he snuck over to the Training Centre, which like the kitchen, was unlocked and free for any sneaky tribute to use. Then, he grabbed a dummy, painted a Capitolian's face on it, and began punching the dummy relentlessly, laughing and jeering as he tore it to bits. Now if only he could do this to a real Capitolian, boy how fun would that be? The mere thought of it was enough to keep him smiling through the night.
Rake made it quite far, even injuring Tuscany during an encounter, but the bees proved too big of a challenge for him.
District 12:
Maysilee Donner sat on the bed, wrapping her arms around Lily Martin and Miner Garrison in a tight hug. "It's okay, guys," she whispered softly in their ears as the little pair shivered and snivelled, shaking in her warm embrace. "We've got this. We're allies, remember?"
"But what about the Careers?" Lily sobbed, shuddering at the thought of those big, heartless hunks.
"We can kill them," Maysilee told her. "I can use a blowgun, that'll kill them off! Trust me guys, we're in this together. We've got this!"
"Promise you won't abandon us?" Miner whispered, choking back a sob.
"I promise," Maysilee said firmly, smiling gently as she began to sing a soft lullaby, lulling both of them to sleep.
Maysilee was right. Her blow gun did prove useful. However, it wasn't enough to stop the squirrels from eating Miner. As for Lily, she got lost while on a bathroom break and was caught by the Careers. Diamond dealt the final blow in a horrific, torturous kill. Maysilee was later killed by the birds, dying in Haymitch's arms after abandoning their alliance.
Haymitch Abernathy sat by his window, staring quietly out at the Capitol below. The city lights were so bright, so beautiful, so disgusting. He scowled. These lights were made by people who were fed propaganda on a daily basis, and thought of him as nothing more than an ugly little cockroach they could dispose of easily. The Capitol was a disgusting place, one he showed zero respect for, and would love to see be burnt to the ground one fine day. Axel strolled in, grinning as he usually did. "How's the hay in the mitch doing, huh?" he chuckled, straddling up next to Haymitch.
Haymitch gave him a weak smile. "I'm good, Axel. Just a little nervous, that's all."
Axel rubbed his hands. "Ah, who wouldn't be nervous? We humans are like a magnet. We attract fear so well! And then there are some of us, like you and me, who attract the females, eh?"
Haymitch couldn't help but smile at this. "Really? I don't see many women coming up to you asking for your autograph."
Axel shook his head, the smile still plastered on his face. "Indeed not! But I know that deep inside, I'm irresistible! After all, a little bit of heat isn't so bad if you're always living near Snow, right?"
Haymitch rolled his eyes, but he maintained a smile. "That was horrible, Axel. You could do better."
"Of course I could!" Axel exclaimed, clapping his hands. "But alas, tonight isn't the night. I've been a bit of a bear lately, I guess you just have to bear with me, eh?"
Haymitch groaned. "Axel!"
Katniss and Peeta had a moment of respect for their mentor. "You know," Katniss said softly. "I know we don't always see eye to eye, but I've always respected the guy. He went through a lot, didn't he?"
"Yeah," Peeta said. "So many tributes, it overwhelmed me when I saw the recap. I can't imagine what it must have felt like." He blinked, shaking his head. "Actually, I don't want to know what it felt like."
"Neither do I," Katniss agreed. "The pain must be horrible. I guess it's best not to think about it."
With that, the pair moved on to the next Victor. Peeta flipped the page, revealing a boy with a lump of mousey brown hair and a face full of freckles. He had an almost blank look in his dark brown eyes, which had a faded glint if you looked closely enough. His hands were jammed in his pockets and his cheeks were puffed. Behind him, Ford stood with a concerned expression, as the crowd below looked up at the boy with apprehensive looks. "Kimi Bentley."
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), Wiress Jansen(47)
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), Calico Pepper(48)
District 9-Gwendolyn Whitfield(18), Laurel Flamsteel(29), Miller Thompson(49)
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), Haymitch Abernathy(50)
A/N: There we go, Haymitch! He is an interesting one to write, since we already know the gist of his Games, but there were 47 other tributes, and some of my fellow authors urged me to stray a bit away from canon, because, frankly, why the hell not? So I haven't been doing so well, lately so uhh, don't expect Kimi's chapter to come out soon (if it does come out soon well that's good for everyone haha) But yeah, don't worry about me, I'll be fine, but just a fair warning that updates might be varied based on my mood, which often isn't so good because of school and stuff. Well, hope you enjoyed my little adaption of Haymitch and pls review, it really makes my day haha (I sound desperate don't I). Anyway, have a good day and cheers:)