Disclaimer:

I do not own the Hunger Games book series. It is the property of Suzanne Collins and the publisher Scholastic Press. The movies are owned by Lionsgate and other associated producers and creators. I am simply a humble fan, writing this for the enjoyment of other fans. Please support the official release.

Arena - Day 12

Temperance Hale

Capitol Citizen

One of the Hale servants turned up the volume, which resulted in her giving the man a glare. Which lasted for a second, before she remembered that most of the servants in her uncle's house were avoxes. She couldn't bring herself to hate them, even if they lived in the Capitol.

"The idea of the haunted palace was actually mine," Plutarch Heavensbee answered, a smug smile put firmly across his fat face. "I have always been intrigued by horror. The myths and legends our ancestor's-"

Before he could get any further, Temperance clicked the holoscreen off. She didn't want to listen to the Head Gamemaker talk about the death trap he created. Soon enough she would be on her own way to another death trap.

Temperance couldn't see how she was going to avoid going on this trip, and she had resigned herself to it. When she got back to the city however, she would speak with her uncle about his involvement in politics, and from there she might be able to get her foot in the door.

"Remember my dear, the hovercraft leaves at twelve, so you should be at the station at least an hour early."

Temperance nodded and put the best smile she could on. It looked like a weak of hell awaited her.

Wren Hyde

District 10 Male Tribute

Through the thick brush, he glanced at the courtyard. For a moment, Wren was surprised; he knew the Careers had been camping out at the Courtyard each night. They would be stupid enough not to guard their supplies, so why was there no one here? Was it a trap?

Wren didn't see why the pack would need to set one. The games were in their final stretch. He had lost count, but there couldn't have been more than ten tributes left. Possible half that. He couldn't see a reason why they'd bother hiding a trap.

There were only two of them left. Gleam and Cassandra. He remembered watching them with the Careers in training. Gleam had run the show since the first day, and he was the one who stood out the most in Wren's mind. He recalled that the Two girl was deadly in her own right, and she did score a ten in training.

Wren didn't know if they were still working together, or if they split. Some years the pack fractured earlier, sometimes the final six were only the Careers.

Walking into the courtyard, no one jumped out at him. Nothing came from behind the golden Cornucopia. No muttations were on him. It really seemed like the Careers had abandoned camp. Which was fine with him. He hadn't eaten in a few days and he was hungry.

Digging through the Careers supplies, he found plenty of good, uneaten food. Wren ripped open a package of beef jerky and tour it open it with his teeth. The flavor wasn't particularly outstanding, but after no food it was a godsend.

He devoured it in a minute and grabbed a red apple, biting into it. Wren kept his eyes on the elaborate palace doors, ready to jump if he saw the doors open. In the worst-case scenario, there would be only two chasing him, and he had spent most of the time in the woods around the palace. He was confident enough that he could lose them.

The doors never opened, and Wren ate until his stomach was full. Gulping down the last of a water bottle full of orange juice, Wren decided he couldn't eat another bite. So instead he grabbed up some of the scattered food and full water bottles and shoved it into an empty pack. He was walking towards the gate, ready to head back to the new cave he found, when slammed shut an inch from his face.

Wren knew once it was late enough, the gate closed and didn't open until morning. That was how it had operated this whole time. Until now. In the middle of a sunny day, the gates had locked him inside.

The sound of the palace doors opening behind him made Wren jump. He turned around expecting to see at least one Career, weapons drawn. No one was there. The doors had opened on its own...

Were the Gamemaker's trying to get him to go inside? Were they trying to drive him towards the others? Well if that was the case, they had another thing coming. He was outside with plenty of supplies to last him awhile. The other tributes could come to him.

Walking back towards the Cornucopia, Wren looked inside. There was enough room for him to dig himself out a small spot. If he covered himself with supplies, no one would be able to find him.

Cassandra Aurellius

District 2 Female Tribute

"Nothing in this room either," Gleam called. She could hear the annoyance in his voice, and honestly, she couldn't blame him. First, they got locked in the palace, which had never happened before. The doors were always open upon sunrise, and now they were sealed shut, trapping them within.

Then there was the lack of food or water. Up until they were locked in, more often than not it was easy to find a meal. They'd be set up in random rooms, waiting for someone to come and eat them. Their own supplies in the Cornucopia were so plentiful because every time they hunted they always ran into food.

Many of the rooms were bathrooms or else had them attacked to other rooms. Water ran freely and it was never far. Now no water flowed. No food could be found. Which only left her with one conclusion.

"I think we're in the end games," Cassandra called.

Gleam poked his head back out the doorway. "I think you're right," Gleam agreed, walking out. His scythe rested against his shoulder. "Hey, Gloss? Any chance you or Cashmere could send us something to drink? I'm so thirsty."

He looked up at the ceiling as he said it. Cassandra was at the point of asking Enobaria the same thing. Enobaria had always liked her, even after what happened with her brother. While her parents became distant, Enobaria never followed suit.

Cassandra didn't think it would work. The very first thing a Stone class student learned in the institute when they attended their basic games preparation class was not to make demands of the mentors. They were told to listen to their mentors because the mentors have been the ones to survive the Hunger Games. They would do what was best for the tribute. The tributes, in turn, weren't supposed to make such demands.

To her surprise, the ceiling opened up and a parachute fell slowly down. Gleam reached out and caught it, ripping the chute off. He opened the metal container, revealing two water bottles, two packages of dried fruit, and a bag jerky.

Gleam gave her a cocky smile.

Wallace Branwell

District 9 Male Tribute

Maisie was sitting by the door, taking her turn for watch. He knew he should probably be getting some sleep, but his mind wouldn't stop racing. Today Romeo had attacked them, and having to kill his alley (or a mutt that looked like him, in any regard) again didn't make him feel better.

Wallace wanted to go home. He wanted to lay down in his bed, in his small room, in his small house. He wanted to see his little brother, his mother, and his father. He wanted to be back in Nine, as far away from the Capitol as possible. He'd give up all the luxury if he could just go home.

He wanted to take Maisie with him. She didn't deserve to be here. Like him, she should be back home in Nine. The Capitol could take its Hunger Games and go to hell. Panem would be better off without the city full of parasites. It wasn't enough for them to take their food, or whatever else the districts produced. No, they had to take children as well, bring them across the country and force them to kill each other for the sick entertainment of the people in the Capitol.

Even if he was the one who got to go home, would his parents be happy to take him back? He wasn't going to get out of the arena without blood on his hands.

The sound of trumpets started him out of his bed. By the door, Maisie's head snapped up, and she looked over at him. His eyes met hers and Wallace could see his partner sag in relief.

"Attention tributes, attention," Claudius Templesmith's voice echoed through the arena. "Tomorrow a feast will be held in the great hall of the palace. The very first room you entered when going through the doors. Before any of you refuse my invitation, I should warn you that by tomorrow, the feast will be the only place in the arena with food or water. That is all."

The sound of trumpets, and then everything went quiet.

Author's Note:

Hello! I hope you have enjoyed the twentieth chapter!

So, our shortest chapter yet! Sorry about that. The next chapter is the final arena chapter, and I have a feeling it's going to be the longest one yet. I normally like to keep my chapters between 3k and 7k. On my other stories, I might like chapters on the longer side, but for this fic I've been favoring 3k to 4k. The next chapter will most likely blow the length of everything else (on this story) out of the water.

Before anyone asks, I actually have another account I write other stories on. In that account, I'll most likely have different Hunger Games fics put up there eventually. I created this account specifically for all the stories in the verse I'm creating here. Any Hunger Games stories posted here will be a part of this verse stories.

In fact, after this fic is done, I'll be having multiple sequels. Other SYOT stories in this verse. Other stories focusing on events not directly involved in the games (such as the rebellion or Victor Tours, or weddings *hint hint*) I have a lot planned in this verse, and I hope you'll all continue to read (even the non SYOT stories haha)

So, we're almost at the end. Two more chapters after this one. I'll be posting the next chapter Thursday and the final chapter next week.

A special thanks to timijaf, my constant reviewer!