Chapter 51: Kimi Bentley
A/N: District Six had to wait such a long time, they had to witness so many kids die in the arena, but now, this is their chance at redemption. Overshadowed by the hype surrounding the Quell that had taken place only a year before, this is the male morphling's shot at making it out alive just like Ford all those years ago, and he's got the skills to put on a good show...
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P.S.S. The cover art will soon be changed to Ringo!
Peeta gritted his teeth. "The male morphling." The name they had given him echoed through the room, an ominous reminder that they hadn't thought of remembering his name before he died.
Katniss bit her lip. "Kimi... He really was something, huh?"
Peeta nodded. "Most only remember that he hid a lot, but in reality, he did a lot more than just that."
Katniss nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he deserves more credit than we ever gave him, that's for sure."
The pair gazed at the face of the boy, looking away from them. "I wonder," Peeta murmured. "What he was like before he became, you know, a morphing addict. He looked perfectly fine during his interviews."
Katniss shrugged. "I guess we'll have to ask Wheeler if she survived."
Kimi Bentley
District 6
Aged 17
2 Kills
District Six was by no means a nice place to live in. And Kimi himself could tell you that. The crime rate had been on a slow and steady decline over the years, but it was still astoundingly high. The three main towns, Minneapolis, Winnipeg and Chicago, were generally filled with the more fortunate of citizens, who could afford basic accommodation and some decent education. Their jobs weren't as laborious, and they could, if they were fortunate enough, own their own motorcycle or small car. A handful even got to compete in the races every month, with Peacekeepers often at the helm, however, with Ford's persuasion, more and more young drivers had been allowed to sign for certain teams, in order to make a small wage. The reigning champions would be allowed to compete in the Panem Grand Prix, which had evolved significantly since its days as the 'Grand Panem Prix'. Now, it consisted of twelve teams, eleven of which were from the Capitol and one of which was from District Six, although hardly any Sixes were ever given the opportunity to compete in the Capitol. Ford had been one such driver, and he became the best in the history of Panem, until his retirement two years earlier. Since then, only two Sixes had ever competed in the Capitol. One of them was Angelo, Ford and Crystal's son, but he died in the 49th Games after his Reaping was rigged against him. The other Six was none other than Kimi Bentley. Hailing from Winnipeg, Kimi had idolised Ford all his life, daydreaming about making it to the Panem Grand Prix ever since he was a child. He had begun work at one of the wealthier automobile factories in Six when he was just nine, and his small size generally allowed him to evade the vulture-like eyes of the employers, all of whom were ex-Peacekeepers who had retired to start a booming automobile business in the Capitol. That meant that they had to build factories in District Six, which was exactly what they did. In total, there were twenty NeoMobile factories scattered across the three main towns, filled with labourers from Six who came in every day for a minimum of twelve hours a day to build their vehicles. They had grown such a big reputation that NeoCars had managed to field their very own Panem Grand Prix team in the Capitol and had won three titles to date. Kimi helped to build these racing cars, painting the finished vehicles and polishing them afterwards. His eyes would twinkle and gleam every time he saw these shiny vehicles and a sense of fascination would come upon him as he flicked his brush across the metal, his mind lost in a dizzy little daydream about race cars and the bright lights of the Coriolanus Circuit, the site of the annual Panem Grand Prix. One of his employers, Regulus, would often notice him slacking and charge at him with that huge, yellow whip of his, growling at him like a ferocious beast. "Get back to work, Kimi, or I'll tear you to pieces!" Kimi was just a little boy, one who was terrified of many things, such as the dark, snakes and of course, Regulus's whip. So he gladly obliged and put his mind back to his work. But the dreams, the wild imaginations of winning the Panem Grand Prix in front of a large crowd roaring his name, those would never leave him.
As Kimi grew older, he learnt about all the junkyards that were closed off to the general public, tucked and hidden away in remote parts of the District. They contained precious, expensive scrap metal that no other ordinary citizen would ever have access to, except Kimi, of course. Located in the slum areas of the District, where gang violence was the norm and drug addicts trampled the muddy, polluted dirt alleys filled with human waste, trash and morphling needles that only fuelled the spread of STIs as people, walking around barefoot, stepped on them. Disease ran riot, killing many at once, and the smoke in the air was beyond even the laxest of safety limits. Peacekeepers exerted little control here, as numerous gang leaders fought for control over vast swathes of land, vying for power and influence over the factories and automobile shops that stood flimsily around these slum areas, providing a meagre source of income for the workers: one Capitol dollar per day excluding taxes, which were rarely enforced by Peacekeepers as these poor souls were forced to conform to the tax laws of the gangs that ruled over them, relying on the mercy of their rulers. Small vans and trucks carried goods to and from these areas, transporting finished products to the main towns and food from the main towns to the slum areas. These vans also carried people, although the risk of riding in these vehicles was extremely high, as gangs would often hijack them and kill people at random for their own sick pleasure. Kimi ignored these dangers, instead choosing to ride on these vans to the slum regions against his parents' wishes, in order to slip into these restricted junkyards and claim some scrap metal. The gangs ruled over these junkyards, only allowing their members access to the scrap metal stored in there. But Kimi was smart. He brought along with him a screwdriver and some wires he had stolen from the NeoCars factory, before coming along and dismantling one of the junkyard's security system, granting him free access to its contents for one hour before someone noticed that something had gone wrong. He grinned as he hopped in and began a mad grab for the supplies he needed. After all, he was going to build his very own racing car!
Fast forward several years, Kimi had established himself as the undisputed heir to Ford Hamilton, the best driver in District Six. He won numerous titles in the District, and his team managed to win the District races for the first time ever. Soon, he was sent on a train to the Capitol, and in front of a thousand Capitolian fans, screaming and chanting his team's name, he zoomed his way to victory, clinching the title and coming home to District Six a hero, celebrated and praised by everyone, hailed as a champion, a legend, an icon alongside Ford. Even Ford had come up to congratulate him, and Kimi went to sleep that night with the biggest smile on his face, chuckling to himself as he basked in his victories. Life was good, what could possibly go wrong?
"Kimi Bentley," the escort read out. A large, collective gasp echoed throughout the District as Kimi's name was called out during the Reapings. It couldn't be him, could it? Everyone turned to face Kimi, the boy who had his fists clenched and was slowly making his way up to the stage. District Six's third-ever Panem GP driver and he was being robbed right out of their reach! Just like Ford, just like Angelo, Kimi was to be whisked off to the Capitol. And that was when the drug addicts of Six truly began to feel. For the first time since they had begun this terrible addiction, they began to feel something boiling in their blood. Red hot fury. Fury that these Reapings were blatantly rigged. Fury that Kimi was about to be taken away from them. Fury that the Capitol was practically laughing at their poor, sorry states as those elitist nincompoops sat in their high chairs with their beautiful glasses of champagne and fancy dresses. It ignited a fiery rage within them, one they had not felt in such a long time. They began to push, they began to cry out, they began to hit, smash, kick, rage, cook up a storm. This District, the laughingstock of Panem, the District of drug addicts and impoverished weaklings, they were rebelling! It was just a shame the Peacekeepers began to open fire. Kimi didn't see anyone die though. He was quickly led away, and he didn't even dare to look back. The screams of agony would forever ring in his ears, the loud booms of gunfire forever glued to his mind. He wasn't sure he could contain himself if he saw even one citizen being shot to death.
On the train now, and it was not an unfamiliar scene for Kimi, who had been on this train twice before, on his way to the Panem GP. The difference was, he was not on his way to the Panem GP now, or even to a race, for that matter, For goodness sake, he was going to the bloody Hunger Games! Kimi puffed his cheeks, taking deep breaths, trying to calm his thumping heart down, but it was no use. His District partner was no better. Citroën Chancellor was a sixteen-year-old drug addict who stumbled around the room, groaning as she cried her eyes out, although Kimi wasn't quite sure if it was because she was Reaped, or if it was for another unknown reason. Kimi tried his best to ignore her. After all, she needed to die if he was to come home alive. She needed to be in a casket and- no. Kimi shook his head, gritting his teeth. He couldn't find it in him to wish death upon someone, especially not his own District partner. He groaned. Great. He was weak, wasn't he? He couldn't bring himself to kill anyone, that was not good. The stats of the last few Victors suddenly popped into his head. Wiress Jansen, the shy, meek girl from Three with mental issues, had seven kills. Calico Pepper, the kind, friendly, motherly cook from Eight, had eight kills. Miller Thompson, that terrifying gang leader from Nine, had five kills. And last year's Quell Victor, Haymitch Abernathy, the snarky, sneaky boy from Twelve, had four kills. In fact, Kimi realised with a shudder, no one had escaped the arena without at least one kill. And only two Victors, Sapphire and Laurel, had managed to stay alive with only a single kill. Ford himself had to kill five tributes. Kimi gulped. Oh gosh. He had to kill someone, didn't he? No, he told himself as firmly as possible. He wouldn't kill anyone, he wouldn't! He couldn't possibly think about ending the life of any tribute, not even those cruel Careers. Okay, maybe he would make it an exception if it were some ruthless gang leader or a serial rapist, those kids deserved to go to hell, in Kimi's opinion. But what were the odds that he, a driver from Six, could take down even a decently strong Outlier, much less a Career or a skilled gang member? He twisted his little copper key in his hands. It wasn't much, but it was his tribute token, as it was the key to his room, and had been in use for at least a hundred years. It was practically a family heirloom, and now, it's fate would rest on his shoulders. If he went home, great. If he didn't, the key would either be lost forever in the arena, or recovered and displayed in some Capitol museum for the rich and famous to gawk at. He couldn't let that happen. Ford entered the room, a notebook and pen in his hands, and a dejected look on his famed face, one everyone in District Six could recognise in a heartbeat. "Nice to meet you again, Kimi," Ford said dryly, sighing as he sat down on the chair across Kimi.
Kimi's legs began to shake, as they usually did when he was nervous. "Hello, Mr Hamilton," he muttered, trying to sound polite.
Ford rolled his eyes. "Please, Kimi, we've been through this way too many times. Call me Ford."
Kimi nodded quickly. "Right, sure, Mr H... uhh, I mean, Ford."
Ford nodded approvingly and began to scribble something in his notebook. Kimi leaned over, frowning. "What's that for?" he asked.
Ford looked up. "Oh, it's just something I use to profile the tributes, you know, to help them better." He glanced uncertainly at Citroën, the girl still aimlessly stumbling around the room, trapped in her own lost world full of her own thoughts and imaginations. "I'll start with you first. I've met you before, Kimi, but I can't claim to know you well at all. What are your strengths and weaknesses?"
Kimi blinked, frowning as he scratched his head. Strengths? Did he really have any that could be useful in the arena? Unless the tributes were allowed to drive a car, he had trouble coming up with any. "I can climb," he managed. "And I can fix things."
Ford scribbled more words on his notebook, humming to himself as he did. "Okay, good, now how about weaknesses?"
Kimi bit his lip. Where did he start? He had a ton of weaknesses, many of which his fans in the Capitol were largely unaware of. "I don't know how to use a weapon, I'm petrified of spiders and bees, please don't ask why, and I can't ever seem to light a fire to save my life." It was true, really. Kimi had tried on multiple occasions to use everything from flint to wood to even a crude lighter to start a fire, but he had never succeeded. He couldn't even figure out how to use a matchstick, which was strange. He could fix complex mechanical problems and build his own racing car, but he could not start a fire. How absolutely pathetic of him.
Ford scribbled even more things on his notebook. "I see," he muttered. "Next question, are you interested in an alliance with Citroën?"
Kimi shook his head. "No." He didn't have to think too much about that. Sure, he pitied Citroën and wouldn't dare to hurt her, but as he already established, she had to die anyway, so it would be pointless sympathising even further with her. It would make her inevitable demise even harder to stomach. Besides, no offence to her, but he doubted she would be of much help in the arena. An alliance wouldn't work well for either of them, really.
Ford nodded, and continued scribbling some notes. "How about alliances in general?"
Again, Kimi shook his head. He was never really an extrovert, and preferred to work alone. After all, he always worked best when he was on his own. He had few friends growing up, because no one could live with his sky-high ambitions, so making allies here in the arena might not suit him at all. "Doubt that would be helpful for me."
Ford shrugged and noted that down too. "Last question before we move on to the Reaping recaps, what angle do you want to go for?"
Kimi raised an eyebrow. "Angle?"
"For your interviews and public appearances," Ford explained.
Kimi frowned. He was kind of a Capitol celebrity, he might be able to play on that to his advantage. But he had to stand out in terms of personality too. And as far as Kimi was concerned, his personality was pretty damn boring. He shrugged, scratching his chin. "Maybe I could try being humorous?"
Ford tapped his chin with his pencil. "I don't know. Your jokes never quite hit the mark. Maybe we can work on this later." Kimi couldn't argue with that. He was by far the least humorous person in his neighbourhood. And his attempts at being funny during the Panem GP had been a calamitous disaster, to say the least, an absolute catastrophe. So it was fair to say that he had to work on another public angle. The question was, what angle?
He pondered that question all the way to the Capitol, but even after he was dumped into a typical District Six train driver's overalls, he couldn't figure out what his angle would be. And this year, unlike with Ford, none of the tributes recognised him. The Capitol had stopped streaming the Panem GP after the 24th Games, so no one was aware that standing in their midst was a racecar driver who had won trophies and awards and was used to the bright lights of the Capitol, even if the paparazzi and screaming fans did make him a little queasy at times. Okay, they made him queasy all the time. Furthermore, the Capitol's main video streaming platforms, Snowtube and Dailysnowtion, had ceased to exist as a result of numerous scandals and fraud cases, so when Haymitch and Axel told their tributes about Kimi, neither of them believed that Kimi could possibly rise to such fame, and Axel and Haymitch couldn't show them any videos as forms of evidence. The other stylists, on the other hand, knew exactly who Kimi was and gasped when they saw him emerge from the Makeover Centre. A couple of them, like Gennadios, who were Panem GP fanatics, let out a quiet shriek and had to be held back by the mentors before they could encircle him and ask for autographs. The tributes began to scowl at Kimi, their brows furrowing at the realisation that maybe, just maybe, their mentors were right after all. Kimi didn't like this new attention, neither did he like the looks those big Careers were giving him. He hopped onto his chariot and gritted his teeth. The show was about to start.
The chariot rolled out, much slower than Kimi would have hoped for. He was used to the speed, the thrill, the adrenaline of the extremely fast racecars. This slow chariot ride around the oceans of Capitolians was, in comparison, rather disappointing. Also, this time, the Capitolians threw bouquets of flowers at him, which, firstly, hurt because they pricked him, and secondly, made him flustered. He hated all this attention, he just wanted to go home! His vision swam a little and he had to grip on to his chariot to prevent himself from fainting. Gosh, this crowd, it was so big! Beside him, Citroen stood with a vague expression on her face, her eyes wide yet incredibly empty. The morphing withdrawal was really getting into her. Just then, Kimi heard a loud boom. "What the-" he yelped, spinning around. Screams rang from all across the streets. Kimi looked around, starting to feel panicked. People were running, some into the path of the Parade frantically waving their arms and crying out loudly. Amongst the stands, Kimi could see the mentors, including Ford, rushing and screaming for help as they surrounded a limp person, although, from his vantage point, Kimi wasn't sure who it was. What the hell was going on? Another gunshot. This time, it sounded closer. The pairs from One, Two, Five and Eight were jumping off their chariots and making a run for it. A third gunshot rang out and more screams erupted. The horses began to whiny. A fourth gunshot. Kimi began to make his exit. A fifth gunshot and Kimi was, all of a sudden, thrown off his chariot as a bullet slammed into his chariot. His head hit the ground, and in a split second, the world became pitch black.
It didn't take long for Kimi to recover. In fact, he woke up exactly two hours later, in his bedroom in the Tribute Centre, with Ford and the rest of the District Six entourage looking over him. Citroen was among them, her hand wrapped in a bandage, a tiny fragment of concern in her eyes. Kimi looked around. The first thing that crossed his mind was how stunning his room was. The bed he was lying on was larger than any he had ever seen before, and the linen was so soft and clean, very much unlike his small, worn-out, dirty bed back home in District Six. The walls were a stunning blue, with a control panel in front of one of the walls that Kimi made a mental note to try out soon afterwards. On the ceiling was an immaculate chandelier that sparkled brightly above his head. The room itself was frankly rather colossal, at least thrice as large as his old room back home. Then something else crossed his mind. The gunshots. Citroen and her bandage. The aching he felt when he tried to move. He touched his head and realised that it was wrapped in a gauze bandage similar to Citroen's. Suddenly, he remembered everything again. "The gunshots..." he murmured.
Ford bit his lip, a tear sliding down his cheek. He wrung his wrists, choking back a sob. Beside him, the escort, Athena Chocolate, wiped a tear from her eyes dramatically. Kimi looked closer and saw a small stain on her puffy green dress, which was unusual, considering that she was a neat freak who would scream if there was so much as a minuscule speck on her clothing. "Oh, darling, they're dead!"
Kimi frowned, his heart beginning to race. "Who?" When Athena failed to respond, his voice hardened. "Who died Athena?"
Athena began to wail. "Bella Snow! The president's wife is dead!"
Kimi gasped. He hadn't been able to look at the President's Mansion, so he hadn't seen what happened. But Bella, the First Lady of Panem and arguably one of the cruellest people in the nation, dead? Kimi felt conflicted. Was that a good thing? Was that a bad thing? But why was Ford crying? Kimi turned to him, raising an eyebrow. Ford glared at Athena, who was on her knees wailing. "That's not the point. Sterling and Hassan are dead too!" He slumped on a chair, furiously dabbing his eyes. "Sterling, she was a good person! Hassan too! Who would do this?"
That surprised him more. He knew of many people who would gladly decapitate Bella, personally, Kimi just wanted her stripped of power but that was a moot point now, but who would want to kill Hassan and Sterling, two huge celebrities? Sterling's death stunned him the most. She was a victim of rape and torture in her arena, she was hailed for her bravery, for her strength, as an ambassador against such horrific crimes. Sure, she went mad afterwards but Kimi could hardly think of anyone who would hate her after what she had to go through in that disgusting Quell. This was wrong, just wrong. Kimi shook his head in disbelief. "Was anyone caught?"
Ford shook his head. "The cameras haven't caught anything yet." Then, an Avox entered the room and tapped on his shoulder, passing him a note. He read it and scowled. "Well Kimi, I have to go, see you in the morning."
Athena nodded quickly, once again wiping her tears in the most dramatic fashion possible. "Yes, you should sleep now. Big day ahead! You too, girl!"
"Her name's Citroen," Ford snapped.
Athena rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Citrus, sure."
Kimi had to resist the urge to slap her.
Time for training, but Kimi wasn't sure what to do. Ford had advised him to focus on survival skills, because he wasn't going to learn how to throw a knife or shoot an arrow within three days, that would be ridiculous. But there were so many survival stations and with the Careers on the prowl, he didn't have a clue where he should start first. The tributes from Districts One and Seven looked pretty banged up after the death of their mentors Sterling and Hassan. As Kimi walked around the Training Centre, trying to observe the tributes to get a read on their strengths and weaknesses, he could see that they were a lot more unfocused than the other tributes, who were already pretty unfocused themselves. The Ones didn't look too sharp and messed up many of their purportedly brilliant fighting techniques, earning them nothing short of a tongue lashing from the Twos. The pair from District Four stood back, watching the drama of the Career pack unfold. Neither of them were volunteers, so they had little voice in the pack. But Kimi knew better than to underestimate them. While they were the weakest of the Careers, they were still Careers, to begin with, and were no doubt a force to be reckoned with. The Fisher siblings and Coral Thiller had proven just that. Meanwhile, Citroën looked lost in her daze, mumbling quietly and shaking her head as she fiddled around with the ropes at the snares station. Kimi decided not to approach her, just so he wouldn't get too attached with Citroën. Instead, he headed over to the medicine station, which was surprisingly vacant. The trainer was a middle-aged woman with twinkling brown eyes and a soft smile on her face. When she saw Kimi approach, her eyes instantly lit up brighter than a headlamp and her face glowed with anticipation. "Hello there, Kimi."
Kimi blinked. "You know me?"
The woman laughed. "Of course, everyone does. You're a famous driver after all. It was sad when you were Reaped." She gestured at the substances on a wooden bench next to her. "Want me to show you how to make some paracetamol?"
Kimi nodded. "Sure."
That day, Kimi spent all his time with Brea, the medicine station trainer, who was surprisingly kind and genuinely seemed to care for him and the other tributes, going as far as remembering their names and calling them 'children' rather than 'tributes'. She never failed to give him that same warm, encouraging smile even when he struggled with the medicine, and spoke in a very gentle voice, with hardly any accent at all, which was odd. Most Capitolians had a high-pitched, distinct accent, one Brea barely had when she spoke. It was remarkable how someone from the Capitol could be so nice, Kimi had grown up with the presumption that they were all cruel, spoiled brats. While Athena, hs stylists, his prep team and the ruling elite certainly fit into that description, Brea didn't seem to. He enjoyed spending time with her, listening to her stories about her life, which was fairly interesting for a Capitolian. She had come from a wealthy family of biomedical engineers and doctors. Her father had died during the Dark Days, being on the receiving end of a District Thirteen bombing raid. When she was five, she was abducted by rebels from District Five, but was eventually rescued after a year of captivity and intense torture by a train worker from District Six, a man named Kvyat Bentley, Kimi's grandfather. Kimi had heard stories of him rescuing a Capitolian girl, but never in a million years did he imagine that he would be meeting that girl on his way to the Hunger Games. It was queer, how fate could take you places you never imagined. Such as the afterlife, if he didn't stop monologuing in his head. Kimi went back to work, creating more simple medicines with Brea, away from the prying eyes of the Careers.
The second day of training, and as much as Kimi wanted to spend more time with Brea, he knew he had to move on to another station. He headed over to the structure building station, another station that was vacant. Sadly for him, the trainer there wasn't as nice as Brea. Kimi spent about two hours learning how to build simple structures like tents and pulleys with the trainer, Lorem Hickey, constantly breathing down his necks. She was a frightening woman with tiny devil's horns protruding out of the top of her head and red and black eyeliner and lipstick to cap off the devilish look. She snarled and hissed at him throughout the session, and although Kimi did learn quite a bit about structure building, he was more than happy to move on.
Fast forward to the interviews, and Kimi walked onto the stage as the crowd beneath him stood on their feet, giving him a thundering applause as they chanted and whistled his name. Kimi waved at them, smiling a little shyly. He could see the envious looks on the other tributes' faces. Citroen, of course, didn't glare at him or anything. She just gave him a meek smile then continued plucking at the feathers on her dress, her eye twitching as she did so. Her interview had been pretty boring, to say the least, and Citroen had called it off thirty seconds before the buzzer rang, which meant that Kimi went up earlier than he had initially expected. As he gazed out over the crowd, his stomach began to churn. Ugh, he hated this crowd! He just wanted to go home! Gritting his teeth and forcing a wide smile, he sat down next to Caesar, who still donned that same, trademark smile after all these years, although Kimi could sense a tinge of sadness in it. Over the years, it had begun to fade ever so slightly after each edition of the Games, and his enthusiasm had begun to wane. Kimi wondered if all these interviews and his marriage with Iris Fisher, a Victor with PTSD, had harmed his perspective of the Games. Furthermore, he and the Capitolians in general seemed drained after the deaths of Sterling and Hassan, and Olive, Rafael, Crystal and Birch were notably absent from the venue. Marina and Sapphire looked teary-eyed as they slunk in their seats staring emptily at him. It was horrific, what had happened, but Kimi tried to shove it out of his mind. There was something else. Before the interview, Kimi had bumped into Switch Kim, the Victor from District Five. She had giggled and apologised, but now, sitting right next to Caesar, something struck him. The similarities. They were right there. Switch and Caesar, the way they smiled, their laugh, their faces, all bore a striking similarity. And as the interview drew on, Kimi couldn't shake aside the fact that there was more to Caesar than met the eye.
Launch time, and it was time to put those training skills to use. Kimi stood on his pedestal, balling his fists. The problem was, everyone else was shooting glares at him and it wasn't hard to see why. The arena was none other than the Gallagher Circuit, the second largest racing venue in Panem, and the site of the Panem GP prior to the 30th Games. Since then, it was abandoned, although recently it was seldom used for practice sessions. Around the circuit were barrels of petroleum and spare tyres, stacked tall on the sidelines and across the track. Kimi had already been in this place once for practice, so it was fair to say he had somewhat of an advantage in this arena. If it weren't for the fact that the other tributes knew that too. All of them, minus Citroën, of course, were shooting him murderous glowers, eyeing the weapons closest to them, probably plotting on how best to flay him. Kimi gulped. Shoot. Was this some sort of Capitolian plot to kill him? A plan to kill off a District boy who was getting too popular for his own good? Kimi's hands began to shake a little. He slapped them. He had to focus. He couldn't be scared, even if now he couldn't run into the Bloodbath, otherwise, twenty-two tributes would charge in on him. He could only run away now. When the gong rang, that was exactly what he did. As the crowd of tributes surged into the Bloodbath, Kimi turned on his heel and hopped off his platform, sprinting as fast as he could. Kimi had never been anywhere near the fastest person, in fact, according to Ford, a statistical report published by Capitol Couture had listed him as the sixteenth fastest tribute, a pathetically low ranking. That meant that he was even slower than Citroen, who placed fourteenth in that list. But this time, he ran faster than he had ever run before? How, you might ask? Well, he didn't want to die! That was enough motivation to propel him forward. Kimi was certain that on camera, he probably looked like a floundering penguin, but frankly, he didn't care. He just wanted to live! Turning around, he gasped as Citroen fell to the ground, that cruel boy from Two, who had actually just turned nineteen three days before, loomed over her, cackling as he pulled out his scimitar, which was dripping a sickeningly red liquid. He had been eligible for the Reaping as he was eighteen at the time of the Reaping, but his birthday had come during the training sessions, so was it really fair? No, it really wasn't, but there was nothing Kimi could do about him or his fallen District partner Citroen. He panted as he continued to run, straight into the stands, and as far away from the Cornucopia, located on a small field in the centre of the tracks, as possible. He ran in, skidding past slippery corridors, before ducking behind a bar, already loaded with beer bottles in case there was the second coming of Flash Morrison. Pausing to catch his breath, he heaved a sigh of relief. He was more than glad to be alive, for now at least.
Nighttime now. How did Kimi know it was nighttime? Well, there was a huge digital clock on the wall, showing that it was eleven o'clock. Kimi had rummaged through the shelves of the bar, but had found nothing but beer, beer and more beer. Oh and some wine too but that would only get him drunk, something he didn't need to be in the arena. He had hoped to receive sponsors, but alas, none had come as of yet. Of course not, sponsors were expensive and as big of a celebrity he was in the Capitol, as splashing cash on him of all tributes really the wisest choice on the planet? It wasn't, so Kimi couldn't exactly blame them for refraining from showering him with food or water or anything for that matter. He sighed, continuing to sit down and wait. This was going to be a long night. He took light power naps, something he often did back in District Six. Kimi was never a heavy sleeper, and the softest of sounds would jolt him awake. However, the bar was getting cold. Oh, this was a problem. It was going to be hard for Kimi to resist falling into a deep sleep now. But he had to try. And of course, only thirty minutes after the room's temperature had begun to drop, he drifted off to the deepest sleep he had ever had. Before that, however, he caught a glimpse of the faces of the fallen tributes being projected onto the walls around him. An astounding sixteen tributes were dead, including the girl from District Four, a death that shocked Kimi, but did nothing to prevent him from slipping into unconsciousness.
Unfortunately for Kimi, though, he was given a very rude awakening by the Gamemakers. He hadn't taken note of the time, he had only managed to dream about seeing Hassan get shot before this rude awakening, so it shouldn't have been that long of a sleep. And it would've been a more peaceful sleep had the mechanical dogs not arrived. Their relatively quiet growling had been enough to wake him up. He was a light sleeper, after all. His eyes shot wide open and he looked around the bar counter, only to gasp when he saw a pack of mechanical dogs staring right back at him. They were made of a shiny steel skeleton, with bulging red ruby eyes and a black, copper nose. Their teeth were razor-sharp, like tiny daggers, able to rip apart flesh with minimal effort. Kimi didn't need any prompting. He ran for his life! Zooming across the sidelines, he ran as fast as he could, as the hounds began the chase, snarling and snapping at his feet as he tried to escape. A thousand different scenarios raced through Kimi's mind, but none of them looked pretty for him. He turned a corner. Big mistake. It was a dead end, leading to the ladies' bathroom. He cursed as the dogs skidded to a halt, eerie, mechanical smiles creeping up on their faces as they began to slowly approach him, barking and snarling all the way. Kimi gulped, frantically searching for anything to use to repel these mutts. He didn't want to get torn to bits! He spied a broomstick and a plunger in the corner of the bathroom. Figuring that it was his best shot, he grabbed them and braced himself. The dogs almost seemed to laugh at him, as if in mockery of this rather puny attempt at defending himself. Kimi's fingers shook. He had no confidence in himself, but what choice did he have? The dogs leapt forward and Kimi backed away. He struck one of the dogs in the head, sending it flying backwards into another dog. He blinked, momentarily surprised by this initial successful attempt. But then, the dogs began to recover, and this time, they were not happy. Kimi cursed again. He looked up, and his eyes lit up. A vent! An escape plan began to form in his head. He had an idea, but it would take a lot of luck for it to work. As the dogs leapt again, he flung his plunger at them, leapt onto the toilet seat and pulled himself into the vents. The dogs growled in fury, trying to jump and bite at his ankles, but Kimi managed to muscle his way into the vents. Heaving a sigh of relief, he looked around. These vents were dark, dusty and smelled of rotten eggs. An incredible description of the slum life in District Six, really, so it didn't bother him too much. No, what bothered him were the locusts!
Sometimes Kimi had to wonder, what on earth did he do to piss off those bloody Gamemakers so damn much? There was a swarm of big fat locusts waiting for him in that vent. Kimi sighed. "Oh shit." The locusts charged towards him. He looked down at the dogs, still snapping beneath him. Death by dogs or death by locusts? Kimi decided to go with the former, but maybe minus the death part. He jumped to the ground, making sure he tilted his fall such that he crash-landed as far away from the dogs as possible. The swarm of locusts zoomed after him, but they were soon met by a different challenger for his blood. The dogs themselves. One had grabbed hold of Kimi's shoe, snatching it away and tearing it to pieces, before the locusts overwhelmed it and made it vanish underneath their cover. The loud whining and agonising howling noises that came from within the swarm told Kimi all he needed to know. He didn't stick around, he ran away! He ran back to his bar, which was thankfully still empty, hopped into a drawer and locked himself in, panting and wheezing after he was sure he was safe. This day was going absolutely bonkers! In the distance, he could hear loud screaming, followed quickly by the booming of four cannons. Kimi's jaw dropped. No, there was no way, he had made it to the final four! And the night wasn't even over yet! "You know what," he decided, climbing out of his drawer an hour later and dusting himself off. "It's time to end this. A fast victory for District Six is coming right up, or at least I hope so."
There they were. In the bright moonlight, which would have been a rare sight in the polluted place known as District Six, Kimi could spot them from a small garage where several racecars were parked. He knew this place. In the morning on practice day, he would come to this garage, push his vehicle out onto the tracks, and begin the practice session. But now, here he was, gazing out at the sleeping Career pack, who were camped out in front of a stack of barrels of petroleum. Barrels of petroleum. Suddenly, the wheels in his head began to crank. He couldn't just go up there and kill them, for a variety of reasons. He couldn't bear the emotional pain of killing someone close-up, would probably wake them all up and get slaughtered in the most horrible way possible and didn't have a weapon with him. But the barrels of petroleum, now that was an interesting addition to the arena. His gaze turned back to the racecars that were parked before him. An idea popped into his head and he began to work. He didn't want to do it. But he had no choice, really. He had been lucky that four tributes had died after being attacked by a separate pack of mechanical dogs. Now he had to finish this, whether he liked it or not.
Kimi stood back, admiring his work. He had attached a pulley to the car and poured in some fuel to the engine. The gears were set and the car was ready to go. Now, all he needed was to push the pulley and all hell would break loose. Dawn was quickly approaching, and the remaining three Careers, the boy from One, the girl from Two and the boy from Four, were groggily beginning to wake up. He had to act now. A jolt of nervousness blaster through him. Oh gosh, he really did not want to do this! These were children, no matter what. They didn't deserve this at all! Kimi had to close his eyes and take a deep breath. He was doing this because he had no choice. He pulled on the pulley, which released a screwdriver onto the pedal, sending the car flying straight at the barrels of petroleum, and the Careers standing in between. The boy from One managed to jump away just in time, but even he was not spared from the carnage that happened soon after. The car slammed into the other two Careers, killing them both instantly before they had time to react, before the car crashed right into the barrels of petroleum, causing the track to blow up in one gigantic explosion. Kimi stared in horror as the boy from One's legs were blown clean off of him and were sent flying straight at him. Kimi let out a loud shriek as the poor, crying boy's ears soon followed. He backed away, gasping for air. No, he had done this, he had, no, no, no! A sense of horror flooded onto his face as the dying boy raised his sword and stabbed himself, ending the bloody misery that Kimi himself had exerted onto him. All of Kimi's pacifist ideals, chucked out of the window in one go. And the sheer pain he had caused. As tears streamed down his cheeks, Kimi collapsed onto the ground, screaming and wailing for the end of innocence.
The pair had a longer minute of silence for the male morphling, a fallen member of the alliance of Victors who had vowed to protect Katniss. "We never really got to know him," Katniss muttered softly, a tinge of regret in her voice.
Peeta nodded, melancholy in his eyes. "Rest in peace, Kimi. Keep on racing in the afterlife."
There was nothing else to add on, so the pair moved on. Peeta flipped the page, revealing the next Victor. A girl stared back at them. She had long blonde hair that fell just above her waist and hazel eyes that gazed out shyly from their eyelids. She flashed a nervous smile at the camera, revealing a set of blue braces that lined her teeth. Behind her stood the other District Five Victors. Flash gave her a drunken smile, Switch gave her an encouraging one plus a thumbs-up, Porter glared at a Peacekeeper and Shocker just stared at the ground. "Marie Meredith."
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), 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), Kimi Bentley(51)
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)
Victors that are underlined are deceased.
A/N: And there we have it! District Six finally have their second Victor and it's the heir to Ford's racing throne, Kimi Bentley! According to Haymitch, he basically hid for the duration of his Games, which is technically true here, just that he didn't have to hide for long! Hope you guys enjoyed that and well, well, well, Hassan and Sterling are dead?! It's sad that I have to start killing these guys off, but alas, I have to. Let me know what you guys think in the reviews and stay tuned for Marie! Cheers:)