Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

Note: Time for another canon, another career and, after a fairly notable absence, the first tribute from Two in quite a while. I'll admit, perhaps it's on me that my way of ordering the victors left the lattermost Games without many District Two tributes. Oh well, nothing to be done about to now… except tell the tale of Enobaria AKA Tooth Lady AKA That Bitch. Whatever your feelings on her, I feel the women has potential… which, as it basically becoming my catchphrase, I feel was a tad underused in canon. So, time for me to fill in a few blanks and see where the madness takes us. Let's begin!

"So, you said she was stung," Katniss repeated. "What do you mean by that? Is that literal?"

"Literal," Peeta confirmed. "Her arena had a few pretty nasty mutts in it with these stinger tails, right. Well, Enobaria got stung by one."

Katniss paused to consider this. "And we're quite sure she's not just a ghost?"

"Yes, quite sure," Peeta said, a grim and tiny smile on his face. "She entered the Games, if I recall it right, as a spoiled brat. Think Glimmer, but multiplied by… maybe seven? After the sting, well, she was never quite the same after that."

"Honestly, I'm less amazed over the change and more amazed that she didn't get killed. Not many tributes can survive a mutt attack. Least of all a 'stinger'," Katniss shuddered at the thought. "Let me guess… that tribute whose throat she bit out… that happened after she was stung?"

Peeta could only give a weak nod. The pair stood in silence, looking down at the face of the only career they knew with certainty was alive.

62nd Annual Hunger Games

Name: Enobaria Golding

Gender: Female

District: 2

Age: 18

Kills: 9

It's not easy being a maid for the richest families in District Two.

It's harder being a maid for the Golding family.

It's hardest of all being Enobaria's maid, but that's the only job that I was able to get. Not many good jobs exist in Two for those who lack muscle, money or a bloodlust for the Games. Not when that bitch Olga is running the district, practically more than the mayor is!

It wouldn't be so bad if Enobaria's family had anything resembling respect for other people. Alas, they have none. Certainly not for me or the rest of their staff. It's always 'work harder or else Malachite' or 'we'll send you back to the streets if you can't work faster Malachite'. I'm sure that Enobaria deliberately makes more mess to ensure I get no breaks.

That girl, I've hated her ever since I started working here. I was lucky enough to age out of the reaping bowl last year, but she still has one more to go. I can't help but feel almost giddy about that.

Enobaria got chosen to be the tribute, her combat abilities being far and away the best of everybody at the academy this year. That's a twenty three out of twenty four chance she'll be dead, and a certain chance that she'll take several hits along the way no matter what. Maybe enough to beat some manners into her.

I don't like wishing for the death of another, I really don't. But, why logical reason is there for me to care for somebody who strikes her staff and beat the maid who held this job before me with a can opener? No reason at all.

Just one more hour and the reaping will start. Just one hour and she'll be out of my hair for a while. I won't have any time off of working, but at least without that spoiled brat it won't be quite so bad as before. Her parents have a whole different set of maids to shout at anyway.

She enters the room when I'm almost done cleaning it. Just as she always does she overturns a few chairs and empties out the contents of a drawer. The heiress of the Golding family sends a snooty, cold sneer my way. Just the same as any other day, really.

"Better clean that up Malachite," Enobaria says, haughty as ever.

"I'll get right on it," I say, moving to pick up some of the fallen jewels from inside the drawer.

"Better not steel those, peasant," Enobaria adds, faking me out with a punch. Gets me every time that does – nobody knows when the punch is fake or will actually make contact. "My father would have you ran out of Two and off to Twelve if you dared do anything of the sort."

"Yes Enobaria," I say, my tone neutral.

"I'll be winning the Games soon. That means I'll be a victor and among the elite of humanity," her eyes almost sparkle at the thought of all this, nevermind how much blood of others she'll have to spill for this to happen. "You know what'd make you?"

"The maid of a victor?" I guess, putting the draw back into place.

I'm sent falling on my ass as Enobaria shoves me down. "Not even that, you'll be the same peasant you've always been. You'll never be anything better. You don't belong with the rich and the beautiful."

Enobaria eventually leaves to dress herself for the reaping, snootily laughing all the way. Her words hurt, sure, but they cannot hurt anymore than just being me. At this point I'm used to all of it – in essence it's like watching her perform the same script over and over, just with a few small variations.

So, basically just a typical episode of Fiona and Lawrence.

If Enobaria wins… she's right, nothing changes. I could quit the job, but what will I do then? I have no family to go to, no back-up job waiting for me. Hunger fucks with your mind and I've no intent to return to that sort of a life.

I just have to hope she dies and that I might be able to swipe a few gems when nobody is looking. The shady merchants down in the quarries aren't the kind to ask questions when offered good items. They just hand over the money and that's that.

It's not long until the room is spotless again. I hear Enobaria leaving the manor with her parents, the three of them all having a smug chat together over how Enobaria will do fine and break Two's losing streak. If you ask me the reasons behind the losing streak are why Enobaria got the role of tribute to begin with.

Two's had a plague going on ever since the games where that naked girl from Six won the Games. It was only affected select areas at first - just enough to take a few lives and remove two dozen at best from the academies – but since then it's been affected the quality of life somewhat and taking away lots of good cadets from Machete Ridge. Our tributes get far, but not far enough. They've died every year since Lyme won.

Enobaria's strong, but I don't think she's as strong as the tributes we'd have if not for the plague. The Capitol claims they know the source of the issue now and are working on a cure in their labs, but I'm not so sure how much I believe that. Then again, I'm out of reaping age and I'm firmly neutral on the Games. It's not my issue.

I just want Enobaria to lose. I allow myself the time to turn on the TV and watch the reaping live, seeing how she volunteers and smugly struts her way to the stage, acting like she owns the place. The powerful boy, Zion, isn't much less arrogant. But really, I don't mind if he wins.

I don't mind if somebody from Twelve wins. Better them than Enobaria.

I don't get much of a chance to watch any of the going-ons of the Games in the days leading to the opening bloodbath. I have too much work to be getting on with. I don't mind though, not when Enobaria's absence is making my job a whole lot quieter and easy to get along with.

I sometimes overhear her parents talking to their fellow noble friends, always talking up Enobaria and how she's going to win easily. How she'll beat the hillbilly's kill record, how she'll win even faster than Chassis did.

I wonder if all the other parents of dead tribute from our district thought the same sorts of things before their children were killed.

Every so often I've been able to catch up on things, just a few minutes of TV at a time, and it seems that Enobaria is the joint strongest tribute of the year. Apparently she's tied with the boy from One, Sunstone, for the moment. I'm not sure if that makes them contenders for the crown or obvious threats, but who can predict anything in the arena?

The audience never gets to see what happens in the training centre, but every so often the interview let slip enough little details for us at home to get an idea of what's going on. Enobaria's the leader of the career pack and apparently is bullying outliers just like she bullies me. Maybe worse as at least she's probably not gonna try to kill me, if she wins that is. The Capitol love her.

Outside Enobaria being unusually snooty and spoiled for a Two tribute – apparently it's more common of a One tribute – other little details catch my attention; the girl from Three apparently built a drone back home and used it to prank peacekeepers, the boy from Five gets into bar fights as a hobbie, the girl from Six claims her ex-boyfriend Titus cannot see her post-Games when she wins as he tried to bite her… weird. Anyway, other than that the boy from Eleven is blind and the girl from Twelve tried to hang herself in the training centre.

Just a normal year then.

When the scores are shown after a few days go by it's not a surprise to me that Enobaria manages an eleven. It's no surprise either that the boy from Eleven only scored a one.

It is a surprise, though, that the boy from Eight scored a nine. What's his secret?

No business of mine, that's what, though if his secret gets Enobaria killed I'll owe him a favour.

The interview… the interview was awful. It was mandatory viewing, so I had to stand at the back of the room and watch the TV with the rest of the hired help while Enobaria's parents sat on the sofa, simpering and awww'ing over their young murderer-to-be as she entered the stage in an outfit that looked like it had already been covered in a tribute's blood.

Caesar greeted Enobaria charmingly as he would for any tribute, and it was really all downhill from there. So much so that I left the room as soon as the interview ended. Mandatory doesn't mean I have to watch all of it, just a section of it. Nobody came after me to drag me back, at least.

At first Enobaria just spoke of her rich background, how she thought the outliers were pitiful and weak, how obvious her victory was… the basic stuff you'd expect from a tribute who has been spoiled rotten her entire life.

Then she moved on from mocking the tributes and began to start mocking me. Talking of me being lazy, useless, some bumbling fool who needs Enobaria to help me tie my shoes… everything she can think of to make me sound like a witless moron. But the worst part? The part that gets my blood boiling?

She turns to the camera, puts on a simpering little smirk and lightly waves. At me. She's so assured of her own chances she used an entire third of her interview to mock me, for no real reason than because she can.

I can't wait for this girl to die. It's hard to busy myself on my tasks of the evening, especially with radio reports of the Capitol referring to me as 'Moronic Malachite'.

"Fuck you Enobaria!" I snarl, punching a framed picture of her.

The arena is certainly something to look at. Something grim, that is. It looks like a literal warzone, with barbed wire fences scattered around, empty watchtowers, muddy trenches and even two immobile tanks. This, the heavy rain and how cold the arena is are enough to have several outliers crying and at least two of them soil themselves. Ick.

Enobaria just looks more eager than she already was. She looks like her birthday has come early, a wide grin on her spoiled face. But, she soon composes herself and reverts back to a professional look. Like a proper lady about to commit murder the good old fashioned way.

I wish I didn't have to watch this, but it's mandatory viewing. Besides… maybe she'll die in the bloodbath. It's not unheard of for girls from Two to die so quickly.

The gong rings and it's quickly apparent that luck is not on my side just yet. Enobaria doesn't even take a scratch at the carnage goes on around the cornucopia, people running all over the place and several of them dying awful deaths.

Enobaria smashed a mace on the head of the tiny boy from Ten.

She slashes open the throat of the boy from Three.

She chops off a leg of the boy from Six and then stomps on his face a dozen times.

It's sick, utterly sick. She maintains a cold, slightly smug look on her face the entire time. It's clear the tributes are nothing to her, not people really. I have my doubts she thinks of Zion as a person either.

In the end fourteen tributes are killed in the opening bloodbath, five of them by Enobaria's hand. Her alliance stays intact, all four of them sporting no serious wounds, while the six outliers scatter away into the warzone.

I doubt the bloodied girl from Seven is going to get far. Poor thing.

Enobaria takes charge quickly, ordering around her allies to sort the supplies and do as she says. She doesn't just order them, she lectures them and it goes on and on for several minutes. She must use the words 'upper class', 'social status' and 'perfect face' at least seventeen times in four minutes.

Even Sunstone seems annoyed by the whole display. The Ones don't seem much better, exchanging looks of irritation as they separate the weapons into different piles depending on their types and sizes.

If I'm lucky then Enobaria might get herself backstabbed, or worse, by the third day. A maid can dream.

"Honestly, you peasants are working even slower than Malachite normally does!"

Correction, if I'm lucky she'll be betrayed within one hour. Little brat!

By day three only eight tributes are still alive. The girl from Seven didn't make it to the first anthem and the boy from Eleven, who ran away from the start, ended up running off steep drop and breaking his legs. The girl from Three found him soon after that.

But now, the careers have found the boy from Eight. I watch, amazed, as he leaves the Ones gasping and wheezing distantly behind him. Sunstone soon falls behind as well. It's down to just Enobaria chasing him… come on boy, throw a knife back at her!

He's like a ninja, making all kinds of acrobatic leaps and flips to throw Enobaria off his trail. She stays after him, of course, but he's always pulling ahead one inch at a time.

Or he was until he sees a pair of nasty glowing eyes from within an old wrecked airplane's cargo hold and turns around. Enobaria tackled him down, looking at him like how one might look at a pet who has been behaving badly.

"Any last words? I'm gonna make this one hurt. You causes us quite a lot of hassle, running around for so long like that," Enobaria scowls, as of offended that she had to run and strain her 'perfect leg muscles.

The boy seems to accept his fate. "Might wanna look behind you."

I'm left staring in awe while Mr and Mrs Golding scream in horror from somewhere else in the manor. From the cargo hold a scorpion mutt emerges, partly covered in metal armour. It's stinger goes right into Enobaria's shoulder and leaves her writhing and thrashing around.

The boy from Eight tries to run away, but that's when Sunstone finally catches up and tosses a spear through his neck. The sight of the scorpion has Sunstone only more focused on fighting and throwing spears. One, two and three, they all skewer into the mutt.

The mutt flees and Enobaria rises, but it's clear that she's not looking so good. The area around the sting wound is pale, sickly and starting to have the veins turn black. Her eyes are vacant and she's starting to drool.

She might actually die!

"Enobaria, are you alright?" Sunstone asks.

Enobaria rasps out something unintelligible and takes off running like a maniac deeper into the arena. Not five minutes and it seems like she's going crazy. Well, see if I care. Insane tribute almost never win the Games. Maybe it'd be enough for the gamemakers to rig a trap onto her to ensure she won't win?

Caesar and Claudius comment on this turn of events, watching as Enobaria soon tracks down and cuts up the boy from Four. Apparently the stinger, generally intended to immobilise prey or at least send them into a fit, is reacting to her blood type in an unusual way. If anything it's trading her sanity for combat ability. Neither know what to make of it, but both agree the spoiled brat Enobaria had been is unlikely to come back until a doctor can look at her.

It's honestly creepy watching Enobaria fall into complete insanity, even with how the Games are clearly almost over.

Trading sanity for power was an apt way to put it. Enobaria's having no trouble murdering all in her path, even while she's frothing at the mouse, snarling like an animal and her eyes darting around at random. The girl from Three stood no chance at all.

Mr and Mrs Golding are crying and screaming around the clock, horrified at what has become of their daughter. They don't see this beast as their 'precious little girl', but if you ask me Enobaria was always a beast. It's just a bit more obvious now.

Sunstone died when the scorpion mutt came back for round two and, this time, he had no spears left. Four stings and it was all over for him. The boy from One died when the boy from Seven, in a fit of desperation, managed to punch him in the jaw and throw him back into a barbed wire fence. He got entangled and from there… well, turns out the butt of a knife is an effective weapon in its own right.

Part of me feels resigned to how Enobaria is gonna surely come back and I'll be her maid once more. No real change… but with her reputation likely to sink amongst the nobles after how far she has fallen, perhaps she might shut up for once. Can she claim to be superior after spending the night humping a tank?

The girl from One takes down the girl from Eleven as nightfall begins to descend upon the arena. I flinch when the boy from Seven sneaks up behind her, an axe brought down upon the girl's skull. It's like watching a melon being chopped in half.

I try to busy myself on folding clothing, but how can I focus on anything but the old TV in the laundry room? Enobaria just tackled the boy from Twelve to the ground and brought down the knife. One, twice, ten times, a hundred times.

She's more like an animal than anything resembling a person. She's filthy, she's covered in blood, she's hardly able to form words and her eyes are vicious, like one of the zombies from the Thirty Second Games. A far cry from who she once was.

She's not so different from the psychopath who won the Forty First Games, now that I think about it.

And, somehow, she's in the final two. There's still a chance she could die, but I know in my heart this isn't going to be the case. The boy from Seven is tough, but she's still fifteen and untrained. What chance has he got against a beast like Enobaria.

None at all. She manages to find him about an hour after the anthem. One moment they're fighting, the next moment she has the poor boy pinned underneath her.

I'm forced to cover my mouth, my cheeks turning greed when I see what she does next. It's horrifying, she's a beast!

She bites into the boy's throat and tears it out, his blood staining her teeth and face. He drops, choking and gurgling as blood pours from the wound. Enobaria doesn't even seem to care, content to just snarl and roar to the cloudy sky. Even when the cannon fires and the trumpets ring out she doesn't seem to care.

Caesar and Claudius assure the audience that Enobaria will be treated right away and she'll be back to her normal sense once the post-Games interview begins. I find myself hoping that she cannot be fixed. This animalistic, horrifying look she has? It's a perfect look, as it's who she was on the inside the whole time.

From outside I can hear the thunderous cheering coming from across the district. Most of the population here adore the Games, seeing them as a wonderful contest of honour and strength. To them it won't matter that Enobaria went crazy and animalistic. She's a victor, our first in a long time.

I can't help flinching as I finally finish folding all of the clothes. Perhaps Enobaria was right, maybe things will be going right back to how they were before. Am I to be her maid forever? Is there truly no escape, least of all now that she's a victor?

It's hard not to cry at the thought of this. I thought I'd finally be free of Enobaria!

Her parents, their cheering loud enough to have my ears throbbing, surely aren't concerned with Enobaria's behaviour. How can they be when they cheer for a murderer? They'll only continue to enable her.

I guess I should get ready for whatever awaits in the victor village.

It's been a strange week ever since Enobaria came back. Actually, maybe strange is the wrong word. Maybe harrowing is a better way to put it? Things happened what I never thought would happen.

I'm at the doors of Enobaria's house in the victor village, bags packed and ready to leave her for good. Lyme said she knew of people who may appreciate my more rebellious thoughts – well, rebellious by the standards of Two. She's on record for not liking the Games either, so I'm inclined to trust her over anybody else.

Not like I have anything left for me here. I don't see things being able to sink lower than being Enobaria's maid. Which brings me back to where I am now, at the door with Enobaria kneeling just a few feet away from me, a broken shell and close to another meltdown.

It's crazy to think about how it came to this in such a short amount of time. That mutt really messed everything up, not just for Enobaria but also her parents, Olga and apparently the Capitol to some degree. They don't like it when they aren't in clear control and things happen that make them look fallible. They don't like losing what would've been a loyal career victor.

Turns out the poison didn't quite work on Enobaria the way it should have. She went crazy, but that's the thing… she went crazy and they have been unable to fully put her back to how she was. For reasons I can't claim to understand, the antidote does not work on people whose blood type is AB Negative.

Enobaria held together for most of the interview and then suffered a breakdown, having to be taken off camera. Since coming back she's melted down at least twice a day, going from prim and proper to animalistic and beastly. Apparently the Capitol citizens like that sort of thing – lots of them think she should embrace being a 'wild child' and change her teeth to look like fangs. That final kill keeps getting replayed.

I got scratched in two of her meltdowns, but compared to her parents I got pretty lucky. All it took was them being too close when she went psycho in the kitchen two days ago. They were there, the knife ended up being held in Enobaria's hand… they were dead pretty soon after that.

I packed my packs as quick as I could and waited for the right moment to run for it. Like I said, Lyme has something in mind for me. Whatever it is must be better than… this.

The girl I served who once tormented me and did all manner of other things is nothing like the smug girl who mocked me at the interviews. She's crying, she's on her knees, she's pleading for me to stay.

It's pathetic.

"Please, don't go," Enobaria makes a sound that's like a blend between a broken sob and a searing growl. "Malachite, you're all I have left, please… my parents… all the other nobility and friends I had… you're the only one who hasn't ditched me."

I could say a great many things to her. About the way she attacked other staff and occasionally attacked me… how she never treated me as more than a sort of toy to be messed around with… how she was threatening me mere hours before the reaping… she's not worth any of it.

"Goodbye Enobaria. Have fun with the other victors, I guess," is all I van bring myself to say.

I leave, shutting the door behind me. The broken, vicious noble is left all alone in the dark within… fitting. The darkness is where most monsters like to be.

I'm swiftly over to meet with Lyme, ready to put the past few years behind me. Maybe Enobaria will recover from that brain-addling sting, maybe she won't, either way it's out of my life now.

It's time to start all over again and this time end up as something more than a whipping girl for a noble.

I'd expected factory work or, if I were lucky, sorting mail in a safe and only moderately dirty office. What Lyme tells me has my eyes widening, a sense of wonder filling my mind.

Just how much has been going on outside my life as a maid?

"How would you like to live in Thirteen and help build weapons?"

"I never really worked out if Enobaria was on our side in the end, even for a little bit," Peeta admitted. "Like, did we ever see eye to eye at… literally any time?"

"I'm not so sure we did," Katniss replied. "Well, we have the rest of our lives to end up on the same side. We'll see how things go at the party."

The pair continued to slowly talk down the street. It wasn't particularly long at all before they came to the next face on the street. Katniss couldn't quite bring herself to look the imprinted face directly in the eye.

The boy who looked at her was a dashing young man, one with a winning sort of smile and eyes full of life. His hair was short, but styled and very tidy. Nothing looked at all out of place about him – only perfection was presented to any who would look upon the face.

"Gloss," Peeta said, a tone of regret in his voice. "If we'd known now what we know then, if we'd just been able to talk to him…"

Katniss could only let out a depressed sigh, ever so regretful. Hindsight was such a cruel thing. So too were should haves and would haves. Actions to be taken if they had known Gloss, and Cashmere's, stories before they'd been thrown into the quell.

"The Lord twins went through so much," Peeta sighed to himself. "Best we can do is ensure they're remembered."

There we are, Enobaria's tale! I'll be honest, of the four careers in Catching Fire she's the one who stood out to me the least (why do not live in a timeline where Brutus survived tbh?), but I did at least want to try and give her a decent story – like I said at the start, I saw a bit of potential for something more. We know she has her fangs thanks to her 'iconic kill' and that she's kind of wild and brutal… but that's more or less it. I feel like using the 'outsider POV' made things a little more unique than standard format would've allowed for. I liked writing how Enobaria used to be a far cry from the savage we know her as and how it was a mutt that changed her from the proper, snooty girl she was in a time long left behind. Hope you guys liked my interpretation of her. But now, we look on to the 63rd Games and the first of the Lord twins. Just what kind of a story does Gloss have in store for us…?

Stats

District 1: Peridot Gaudy (8th Games), Crystal McCree (14th Games), Bronze Marley (19th Games), Crown Martins (24th Games), Dollar Dettwieller (32nd Games), Mascara Court (41st Games), Platinum Twist (44th Games)

District 2: Baron Overwhill (4th Games), Runa Peace (7th Games), Olga Machete (10th Games), Rook Valiant (17th Games), Boulder Atherston (20th Games), Vercingetorix Carnby (25th Games), Dragon Batofel (27th Games), Rhyder Overwhill (39th Games), Mercy Gregor (46th Games), Brutus Gunn (49th Games), Lyme Rabe (51st Games), Enobaria Golding (62nd Games)

District 3: Honorius Perthshire (5th Games), Pi Orbit (22nd Games), Beetee Latier (37th Games), Wiress Plummer (47th Games), Yohan Fairbane (58th Games)

District 4: Museida Selkirk (3rd Games), Mags Flanagan (11th Games), Tide Luther (23rd Games), Librae Ogilvy (35th Games), Anchor Paddock (52nd Games)

District 5: Shunt Gaspar (12th Games), Isobel Sparks (18th Games), Crimson Flanders (29th Games), Porter Tripp (38th Games), Neon Erg (48th Games), Wattzon Holmes (55th Games), Arendellian Spinner III (57th Games)

District 6: Chassis Macalister (31st Games), Bentley Corduroy (54th Games), Porsche London (56th Games)

District 7: Pliny Aransio (2nd Games), Fir Buzz (9th Games), Jack Tylos (21st Games), Snag Nakamura (34th Games), Blight Jordan (53rd Games), Logger Barlow (61st Games)

District 8: Woof Casino (16th Games), Paige Murphy (30th Games), Spool Nylon (42nd Games), Cecelia Mog (60th Games)

District 9: Mizar Aldjoy (1st Games), Gwenith Rosebud (13th Games), Teff Withers (28th Games), Laurel Flamsteel (36th Games), Tabbock Summers (43rd Games), Trevy Vex (Escaped 55th Games)

District 10: Stallion March (26th Games), Lammy Phyronix (40th Games), Pasture Gallows (59th Games)

District 11: Bear Redfoot (15th Games), Seeder Howell (33rd Games), Chaff Mitchell (45th Games)

District 12: Duke Saint-Rose (6th Games), Haymitch Abernathy (50th Games)