Clove Furhman, aged 15
Clove was expecting this day to come, but never so soon.
Yet, it's her name posted up on that wall. It's her who's the next best choice for volunteering. It's her who will step up on that stage, if the first choice can't do it herself.
She's crazy with excitement and everybody else stares in either shock or envy. Clove screams in delight and pumps her fist in the air.
When she's finally calmed down enough to read the names of the other volunteers, her smile fades.
Because the top choice for the female volunteer, the one destined to go into the 74th Hunger Games, is her own sister.
Lana Furhman is three years older than Clove, and perhaps more skilled. She acts as Clove's mentor, the one who taught her how to throw. Of course there were some tricks Lana kept a secret, so she could claim the volunteering spot herself.
If there's one thing Clove hates, it's when people keep secrets from her.
So, the string is cut and the relationship between two sisters ruined. Lana manages to keep her mouth shut, until she and Clove get home. Then, everything comes spilling out. Pride at the accomplishment, sympathy for Clove's second place. Lana happily goes on and on, ignoring her little sister, who is seething.
Throwing knives helps Clove calm down, so that's what she does. After dinner, out in the backyard, Clove throws all the knives she can find, until her supply runs out. She goes back inside and sneaks a couple from the kitchen. She collects them all from the target, then throws them again.
Clove begins to imagine that she's in the Games. In front of her is her final opponent, who oddly resembles her sister. The showdown has begun, and Clove's got the upper hand.
Knives fly, the sharp, pointy ends poking into the opponent's body. Clove can't help but grin at the sight of the poor, pathetic, blood mess in front of her. Whoever they are, they're begging. Begging for her to just end the suffering, to deliver that fateful blow. When Clove finally does, the target collapses and she's left standing in her backyard.
There's a clapping noise from behind her. It's Lana.
"Well done, little sister. Well done."
"What do you want?"
"Why so rude? I just came to talk. I know you're upset about not getting the position, but you did really well for such a pipsqueak," Lana chuckles. "I guess they chose me because I can actually be spotted in a crowd."
It's just a joke, but Clove is boiling. She's still upset over the fact that she lost...to her sister. If there's one thing Clove hates more than secrets, it's loosing.
Clove is a very sore loser.
Yet, it's her who steps up on that stage. Smiling to the crowd and the random Reaped girl who got chosen. The crowd is buzzing. Who is this girl? Where is that 18 year-old volunteer they were promised? What happened to Lana Furhman?
Only Clove knows. And she's never going to tell.
On the train, Lyme pulls Cato over and requests some privacy. Clove is led by Enobaria to a separate room. There, she is asked to lay out her strategy in front of the mentor.
"Well, I'm gonna get my hands on some knives. Then, I'm going to throw them at however gets in my way."
"Good idea," Enobaria nods. "But what if they too have a long-ranged weapon?"
"Well...I better hit them before they hit me."
Eventually, Clove and Cato get to have their first discussion together. Clove makes sure to stress that throwing knives are her weapon, so nobody else should get their hands on them. Cato seems fine with that. Then he and Lyme start talking to each other, ignoring the small girl in front of them. Their voices never go above a whisper. It's as if they're trading secrets.
If there's one thing Clove hates...
In the Training Centre, the scores are about to be shown. Clove bathes in the pride that comes with scoring a 10, then keeps a sharp eye on the other tributes. Aside from the odd one here and there, there's nothing too impressive.
Suddenly, there's an 11 flashing on the screen. And then a girl's face comes into view. It's that face of the girl from 12. The volunteer.
Clove instantly knows who her target is. She's going after the girl from 12 first chance she gets.
Because that girl reminds her too much of Lana. With the long brown hair. Constant popularity. The best at everything she does, while any glory Clove has is instantly overshadowed and left for dead.
If she got rid of Lana, Clove's certain this won't be much harder. She's not going to lose to do this girl. She hates loosing.
Enobaria Golding, aged 31
For years after her victory, sharp teeth was all the rage in the Capitol. Even after a decade passed, people still flock to Enobaria. They want to show her their own teeth. Filed, fanged, perfect for ripping out throats of young teenage boys that did nothing to deserve the fate they were handed.
Whenever a Capitolite taps her on the shoulder and bares their pearly whites, Enobaria swears their teeth are coated with blood. It's all she can think about, all she can see. Every visit to the Capitol is littered with flashbacks, of the bloody, gruesome battle back in the 62nd Hunger Games. Neither tribute had any weapons, so they resulted to fighting with their bodies. And 18 year-old Enobaria used the first thing that came to mind and chomped down with her teeth...
It was all an act of self-defense. Enobaria never meant to kill him that quickly. She even whispered an apology as she viciously ripped out the boy's throat and left him for dead.
That very kill sent a chain of events into action. Enobaria was "persuaded" by President Snow to alter her teeth into unsightly fangs. She became an idol in the Training Academy. Her popularity skyrocketed in the Capitol.
When the Third Quarter Quell twist is announced, Enobaria is yet again thrown into the spotlight. As the youngest female victor in her district, everyone seems to believe that she's going to volunteer for such an exciting Games.
There's no need to. She gets picked anyways.
Enobaria bares her teeth and cheers loudly next to Brutus, but she's pretty sure the Reaping was rigged. They all want her to go back. They all want to see her rip out another throat.
This time, she has doubts. This time, she's not sure she can do it.
In the Train Centre, she brushes up on her weapon skills, such as throwing knives and even tries practicing with a sword. She goes up against dummies, since they're easier to kill. After launching a knife straight into a dummy's heart, she tackles it to the ground and goes for her signature move.
The stuffing inside the dummy tastes horrible and gets everywhere. Enobaria spits some of it out, then looks up. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the Gamemakers watching her.
All throughout her stay in the Capitol, Enobaria is always found by a crowd of Capitolites. They come with cameras, pens, papers, phones, and questions. Enobaria tries to keep the answers short. She knows they just want to see her fangs.
The morning of the Games finally arrive. Enobaria stays calm and collected, but there's a pit forming in her stomach. As her stylist helps her get dressed, as she waits on the platform, as she rises up into the arena. The pit's getting bigger and bigger. Finally, she's so nervous, she's afraid she might throw up.
She has no clue what's she afraid of. Enobaria is one of the deadliest competitors in these Games. She doesn't need a weapon to kill. Everybody loves her.
So why is she so scared?
Enobaria may be a newer Victor, but she still knows these people. Over the years, she's become good friends with Brutus and Lyme. Gloss and Cashmere aren't bad company either. Okay, she doesn't like Finnick Odair too much, but not enough to kill him.
There are others she just can't bear to see like this, because they've lived such painful lives. Poor old Woof hasn't had any idea of what is happening since the Games started. Cecelia has three small children she desperately wants to go home to. Seeder is the Mom Victor, kind to everybody, even Enobaria.
She doesn't have any time to dwell on it. The games begin and Enobaria is quickly treading through the water. She reaches a spoke near her pedestal and shoves Chaff off as he runs up behind her. She makes her way to the Cornucopia as fast as she can.
An arrow whizzes by, and Enobaria dives into the water before she can get hit. When she finally resurfaces, two figures are running away, leaving the Cornucopia open for her.
She's the first Career to reach shore and quickly claims up her prize of sword, knives, and daggers. It doesn't take her very long long to catch sight of another tribute, the woman from 10 stumbling up to the gleaming horn.
THUNK! The Victor screams as Enobaria's knife finds a home in her chest. She slumps over and falls into the water. The floating corpse is ignored by Brutus, who comes barreling down those narrow spokes. He finally meets up with Enobaria and joins her in scaring off other tributes while they wait for Cashmere and Gloss.
While nobody seems to care about how long the initial Bloodbath goes for, it feels like forever. Enobaria easily loses track of time. Everything becomes a bloody blur. She just fights anyone who goes up against her. Sometimes they get away. Other times, she knocks them down.
Soon, there's no opponents left to fight. No tributes left to stab. It's just the four Careers now. Looking over a sea of dead bodies.
One, two, three four, five, six, seven. Enobaria counts seven of them. She feels slightly disappointed. Surely, they can do way better.
"Wait!" Cashmere is standing in the Cornucopia. "There's one here!"
It's old man Woof. Somehow, he got into the Cornucopia and is lying on his side, behind a case of swords. Probably taking a nap. Completely unaware of the danger surrounding him.
The Careers exchange glances. Who's gonna be the one to take the life an elderly man who just didn't know better? Who could never stand a chance? Which of them is that cruel?
A hand shoots up. It's Enobaria's. She feels absolutely disgusted from his chest.
"I'm sorry," she whimpers. "I'm sorry I'm a monster."
It's the 62nd Hunger Games all over again.
That was Clove and Enobaria! While there are other Careers I like slightly more, I don't mind these two. They're interesting characters, that's for sure.