Cato Ludwig, aged 18

Outside the Justice Building, Cato can see the Peacekeepers attempting to clear the crowd. They do this every year. nobody wants to leave. They all want to catch one last glimpse of the potential Victors before they are whisked away...perhaps forever. Cato tries to focus on the positives, but he knows his pipsqueak of a district partner is not the one taking it home for District 2.

The shouts gradually grow quiet and the door behind him opens. His family is standing in the doorway. His mother. His father. Anna and Rome, the 12 year-old twins.
Cato smiles and they all share a giant group hug. The twins bounce excitedly around his feet. "Our big brother is gonna be a Victor!"

Once his dad finally gets them to calm down, Cato turns his attention to the woman standing in front of him. Mrs. Ludwig breaks out the biggest grin as she tightly wraps her arms around her eldest child. Cato is instantly reminded of the times when he was younger and his mother would hold him like this. Her warm touch is always comforting and tells him that he is supported every step of the way.

"You can do this, sweetheart. We believe in you."
"Thanks Mom." Cato gives her a kiss on the cheek. His father herds Anna and Rome out the door, then asks if he and Cato can have a moment alone.

Cato and Mrs. Ludwig share one last hug, then Cato sits down while his mother steps outside. Mr. Ludwig places a hand on his son's shoulder. The mood shifts. There is no longer a happy feeling, a warm feeling. Tension is in the air. Cato doesn't know how, but he can feel it.
"Well son..." Mr. Ludwig pauses. He opens his mouth, then closes it. Whatever he has to say, Cato knows won't be easy.

"I guess...congratulations on volunteering."
"Thank you."

His father says nothing. Something is wrong. Cato can tell.
From when he first started training, Cato's father was always the disapproving parent. He never seemed fond of the Academy roughhousing, or the occasional sword the trainers allowed Cato to bring home. When he became the selected volunteer, every member of Cato's family was happy...except Mr. Ludwig.

"Dad...aren't you proud of me?" Cato asks quietly.
"I...I am." His father's voice is flat.
"Is something wrong?"

It's clear that the question makes Mr. Ludwig uncomfortable. He shifts a bit on the couch before composing himself. "I have no doubts that you'll do really well in there. But I just one to know one thing. What if you don't come back?"
The glory of the moment has faded away. The risks have been left for Cato to consider. What if he doesn't come back?

"Then I'll fight. I'll kill everyone in my path until I'm back in District 2 with you guys."
"It's not going to be easy, Cato."
"I'm strong. I can do this."

"You may be strongest...but other tributes...they can be smart." Mr. Ludwig taps his forehead. "Real smart. They don't need swords or spears or knives. They have their brains...that's the only weapon they need."
Cato considers this. Sure he can easily break bones and snap necks, but there's no way of defending himself if he's outsmarted. "What do I do?"

"I'll tell you what not to do..." Mr. Ludwig's voice lowers into a whisper. "Do not underestimate."
"Got it," Cato nods. "Sure thing, Dad."

"Cato..."
"Don't worry, I understand. I won't underestimate my opponents. Thanks for the advice."

Mr. Ludwig just shakes his head. A Peacekeeper motions for the two to separate. Cato is led to the train, while his father is left sitting alone. Quietly, he gets up and leaves, wondering if he's done enough to aid his son.
Soon, he'd discover that he hadn't.

Throughout the Games, it appears that Cato is the obvious Victor. Tribute after tribute, he slaughters his way to victory. His father's advice becomes a distant memory in his head, only relevant when it's Cato turn to watch over camp at nights. There, his thoughts collect into a jumbled mess in his brain. Random snippets float to the surface, about the District 2 life he's left behind.

Mr. Ludwig's advice only becomes relevant when Cato finds himself tumbling off the Cornucopia, into a pack of angry wolf mutts. The words begin to repeat themselves, but Cato can do nothing about it.

Do not underestimate.
As the wolves tear him apart and he grows closer to death, Cato mentally curses himself for his mistake.

Brutus Galvino, aged 45

It's not uncommon for Victors to stop by the Academy. Sometimes, they might be visiting a friend or trainer. They supervise the excited teenagers who can't wait to show off. If a kid is lucky enough, they'll find themselves going up against such famous people like Lyme of the 51st, Dominic of the 73rd, or Brutus of the 48th.

For Brutus, these visits are more than just a friendly fight. This is his way of training. His way of preparing. Of getting back into the routine from a long time ago.
Brutus is going back into the Games.

Ever since the Quell was announced, Brutus made plans to volunteer. While he spends his days training, working out, and drinking protein shakes, he keeps his plans a secret from everyone. The trainers, his fellow Victors, his wife.
Everyone.

This time, he's not in it for the glory, fame, or riches that came with winning the first time. No. This time, Brutus is in for the thrill. The adrenaline rushes that coursed through his body as a younger version of him chased after unsuspecting victims. The quickening heartbeat that came with throwing a spear and watching it sink into some poor sap's chest.
Brutus would never admit it, but he enjoyed the killing. He loved the feeling of success after claiming a new kill and even set a goal to kill one tribute from every District. He's more than halfway done. So far, he just needs a kill from 6, 9, 11, and 12.

And when Brutus volunteers, first thing he's doing is claiming those kills.

Everything goes according the plan. Reaping Day arrives, the Victors all wait patiently for the escort, Enobaria's name is drawn. She may look fierce up on the stage, but Brutus knows that the girl has lost her violent edge over the years.
The next name called is that of Dominic Osente, District 2's latest Victor. He cheers happily, while Enobaria just rolls her eyes. Then Brutus volunteers and all eyes are on him.

He misses the cheering so much. He misses when he was just an 18 year-old boy stepping on that stage for the first time, hyping up the crowd with his promise to win and come home. Now, the applause is bigger than ever, because everyone knows who Brutus is. He wishes the moment would never end.

When he gets to the Capitol, they're no longer chanting his name. The ditzy citizens no longer have eyes for District 2. They're more focused on a literal hot mess in the last chariot, where two teenagers stand with burning clothes. A boy and a girl. They face forward, without any emotion whatsoever.
What fools, to act as if they're above everybody else. It agitates Brutus and anger Enobaria. What kind of world is this, where two skinny coal miners are more popular than Careers?

Brutus can't wait to make one of them his kill.

In training, the boy approaches Brutus. His name is Peeta Mellark and he asks for spear tips from Brutus, in exchange for camouflage pointers. As the two of them teach each other, Brutus decides to target Peeta's partner, Katniss Everdeen. She doesn't seem to as nice as the boy anyway.

While it's certainly important to talk up strategy with his fellow Careers and keep note of possible threats, Brutus just can't wait to get into the arena. When the day arrives, he's bubbling with excitement. But still, he has to wait. And he's way too impatient to wait.
If Brutus doesn't get into that arena soon, he's gonna snap his stylist's neck. Finally, the tube opens and he steps inside.

The first thing Brutus smells upon entering the arena is salt. He can almost taste it. Waves lap up against his pedestal, splashing his feet. Hurry up, they seem to be saying. Hurry up! Get to that Cornucopia and show them your worth!
Brutus would, but he knows he can't risk leaving his pedestal too early and getting blown up. Or attacked by whatever creature roams in those salty waters.

The gong sounds out. Brutus wastes no time leaping into the water and pushing away the currents with his strong, powerful arms. He reaches a nearby spoke and climbs. The belt around his waist begins to sag and Brutus just rips it off. It's pointless anyways.

He looks up and catches an arrow flying to his face. Brutus does the first thing he can think of and lifts up the belt. The arrow punctures the belt, sending good everywhere. Brutus growls and wipes some goo off. Whoever did this is going to pay.

Eventually, he makes it to the Cornucopia. Cashmere is barreling down a spoke, while Gloss and Enobaria have already arrived. Nearby, there's a body. Clinging onto the rocks, with the lower half dipped in the water. It's the male morphling, exhausted from all the swimming. Brutus lifts the man up and snaps his neck. The morphling dies in his killer's arms.

More tributes are coming now, all of them hoping to outlast the Careers and escape with something good. Brutus and his allies go after them, hoping to eliminate the competition.
The first tribute Brutus spots is the old woman from 9. She doesn't have any time to run before Brutus brings his spear through her chest. The woman falls limp, muttering some final words before she passes.

That makes two District that he can check off his lists. Brutus pumps his fist in the air, then runs back to the Cornucopia, joining in on the organized chaos.

The thrill of hunting and killing is all coming back to him. The thrill he volunteered for.

That was Brutus and Cato! Next, I'll be moving onto District 3, with Wiress and the unnamed District 3 female.