THE NINETIETH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES
"The Big Top"
INTRODUCTION
The nation of Panem was in turmoil as the ninth Hunger Games decade came to a conclusion. An estimated tenth of Panem's population was infected by the rampant epidemic that had begun in District 3 two years prior, and the first death counts were beginning to be raked in as the virus took root in the bodies of its victims and slowly, painfully shut down their bodies. Investments in cure research were through the roof as the brainiest researchers from the Capitol struggled to rush a cure into action. Finally, on 25 February, President Stinn Hawke signed a law into place authorizing various quarantine zones to be built around Panem—places were the hopeless infected were sent to live out their last few months. These quarantine zones were jokingly called "palaces" by the infected. Conditions were terrible; the stench of rotting bodies was perpetually present, stores of food and water were dangerously low, and air conditioning was non-existent. Crime also bloomed in the palaces, as the infected figured there was no punishment worse than what they already condemned to. Theft, murder, and rape were of particular prevalence. On the flip side of the coin, safe houses were established with the healthy, only those who had been tried and tested multiple times and confirmed to be clear of the virus. Some of these safe houses were as small as a few hidden cabins and some were as large as cities. Corruption and crime were similarly prevalent in these areas. Peacekeepers could shoot and kill literally anybody with the excuse that they were acting like an infected and tried to run. Floggings and executions were once again being carried out at high rates as Stinn's labor quotas were not being met. Unless a cure could be found soon, loss of life would be immeasurable and potentially irrecoverable. Time would tell if the funds for medical research would pay off in the long run. The Hunger Games team remained the same this year, with one new addition. Maddox Courval returned for another year as head gamemaker, ready to pull the attention of the Capitol away from the pathogen killing most of the nation and toward the kills and thrills that would certainly transpire this year. The host, Titanius Lafayette, was joined by a close friend this year. Dexter Malcolms was a short, younger man with curly brown hair and thick-rimmed steel glasses. He owned his own line of fashion wigs and aromatherapy and he was very well-known in the Capitol. He was lively and idealistic and was sure to add a little spice to this year's games.
The careers were a good bunch this year. They weren't nearly as stellar as the legendary pack from the eighty-sixth games, but they were certainly better than the bland group of the year prior. District 1's tributes were the most interesting, even if they had the lowest scores. The boy was extremely intelligent, creative, and passionate, and there was more sheer soul to him than anything else. The girl similarly defied all of 1's stereotypes. She was a shorter girl with thick-rimmed steel glasses and curly black hair, and her parents owned their own perfume company. She wore so much perfume to the interviews that her Fragrance only began to fade around the time the District 4 Male was being interviewed. 2 put on the strongest showing, and they were both sure to go far. The boy was a likeable, charming seventeen-year-old with a cool kind of wit. The girl was the second of the eight Talbot siblings, and she was muscular and brown-haired much like the rest of her family. 4 put on a varied showing. The boy was the second strongest tribute this year behind the boy from 2, and he was distantly related to Victor Annie Cresta, while the girl scored only a nine but had stellar defensive skills and looks to match. The scores of the pack were two elevens, a ten, two nines, and an eight.
The anti-career pack consisted of Chipson from 3, Lylith from 7, and Tarrian from 9. They offered acceptance to two other strong tributes, but they both declined, preferring to go into the games on their own. Chipson was a black-haired sixteen-year-old with a playful smile, and he was one of the few District 3 tributes to earn his high score via physical prowess rather than sheer brains. Lylith was shorter and more reserved and preferred axes, but the sense of mystery around her kept her from fading into the background. Finally, Tarrian was a dark-skinned field hand boy who could fight with sickles and swords well. The strongest outlier this year was Ishania from 6, who earned an impressive eight via her smarts, dagger skills, and medical kills. Surprisingly, a tiny twelve-year-old from District 11, Hydrangea, managed to match her score with an eight of her own. It was later revealed that Hydrangea had stellar trap-building, fire-starting, and water purification skills. The girl from 5, Candela, managed a seven, and the rest of the tributes scored between six and two in their private sessions. There were no volunteers outside of the careers. The last standout was the female from District 3, Harriet. She was openly gender fluid and bisexual, and she spent her interview delivering a heartfelt speech about LGBT rights in the districts. Here are the tributes:
District 1: Fifer Golden, 17, (9) 7-1 and Fragrance Mullins, 16, (8) 9-1
District 2: Kenton Haullis, 17, (11) 3-1 and Venus Talbot, 18, (10) 5-1
District 3: Chipson Harris, 16, (7) 14-1 and Harriet Duke, 18, (5) 23-1
District 4: Zoryn Tempest, 16, (11) 3-1 and Sirena Conrad, 18, (9) 6-1
District 5: Orbit Mendoza, 13, (4) 35-1 and Candela Welder, 17, (7) 15-1
District 6: Vector Slocum, 15, (4) 32-1 and Ishania Pendergrass, 18, (8) 12-1
District 7: Chopper Turnbull, 16, (6) 20-1 and Lylith Blanchard, 16, (7) 16-1
District 8: Russet Sanchez, 12, (3) 44-1 and Voile Brownlee, 14, (4) 33-1
District 9: Tarrian Browder, 18, (7) 15-1 and Ava Claimer, 12, (2) 53-1
District 10: Rancher Driscoll, 16, (5) 24-1 and Hester Goldstein, 15, (3) 37-1
District 11: Mik Susurrus, 12, (2) 55-1 and Hydrangea Tinsel, 12, (8) 13-1
District 12: Crosby Puckett, 18, (4) 30-1 and Twyla McPhail, 14, (3) 38-1
HGBO Bets: 24% on Kenton, 20% on Zoryn, 9% on Venus, 6% on Fifer and Sirena, 5% on Fragrance, 4% on Ishania and Hydrangea, 3% on Chipson, Lylith, and Tarrian, 2% on Candela, 1% or less on Harriet, Orbit, Vector, Chopper, Russet, Voile, Ava, Rancher, Hester, Mik, Crosby, and Twyla.
THE GAMES
The tributes rose up into a world of flashing lights, rippling sheets of cloth, and sudden jets of fire. They were standing in the center ring of a big top circus tent, and their reactions were priceless. Each tribute's pedestal was mounted onto a tall wooden post. The pedestals formed a tight circle around the cornucopia, so close together that the tributes could have held hands in a semicircle around the horn if they had outstretched their arms. A solid wall of nets, trapezes, and handlebars led to the cornucopia. Far below them was a field of sand that turned and bubbled, sucking down and crushing anything that landed in it. The cornucopia itself was mounted on a hanging platform, meaning that the cornucopia itself would be shaking and rocking under the weight of so many heavy, panicked footsteps. In order to escape, the tributes would have to reach the cornucopia and grab onto a series of spinning ropes that would carry them away like conveyer belts; the tributes really had no choice but to head into the bloodbath this year. Hidden speakers played the extremely iconic "Entry of the Gladiators" tune. Surrounding the central sand pit was row after row of props, magic tricks, and daunting obstacle courses. Even farther beyond, a number of tiered rows of seats rose up to the edges of the circus tent. The seats were covered with various supplies from weapons to medicine to food and water. The only other obvious shelter was the prop rooms, the makeup rooms, and the changing rooms, which were located at the back of the brightly-colored tent. Every now and again, the flashing, turning lights would illuminate the two iron grates built into a solid wall where the first row of seats began. A deadly lion mutt was housed inside each cage, and they would be released throughout the games as Maddox saw fit. The arena had no shortage of traps, of course. Everything from sudden jets of flame to barrages of knives to shards of glass were rigged and set nearly everywhere in the large cloth tent, all of which were more than ready to do their killing duty at a moment's notice. This was by far the smallest arena in Hunger Games history, which would almost certainly make for a thrilling, fast-paced games. Surprisingly, the bloodbath this year would claim only seven lives. The arena around them was so jam-packed with color and supplies that most of them were merely focused on escaping with their lives rather than gathering supplies. Also, many of them foresaw a short games with such a small arena, so they didn't think it was very important to stock up on resources in the initial bloodbath.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
Kenton led the onrush, powering ahead of the others due to his speed. Only Zoryn could run as fast as him, and he had fallen to the ground, struggling to keep his balance on the rocking, shaking platform that held the cornucopia. Kenton swept up a sword and thrust it through the abdomen of the nearest boy. Blood spewing from his torso, he stumbled backward and landed inside of the horn, where he was tossed around like a bead in a maraca until his death.
Orbit Mendoza, District 5 Male: 24th, Killed by Kenton, Bloodbath
Fragrance, another fast runner, grabbed a knife in each hand and tackled the slim boy from 6. The force of their colliding bodies sent them rolling toward the edge of the cornucopia platform. They probably would have fallen off, but a number of tributes ran over to the other end of the platform, pulling it back to a more-or-less flat level. Fragrance dug her knives into the boy's chest, sawing open his flesh and eventually his lungs just as the first outliers were escaping the bloodbath.
Vector Slocum, District 6 Male: 23rd, Killed by Fragrance, Bloodbath
By this point, at least six of the tributes had figured out that they could escape by grabbing the conveyer belt-like ropes mounted to the roof of the tent. Zoryn got to his feet and staggered the rest of the distance to the cornucopia, and he clipped a belt of throwing knives around his waist. It took several attempts given the uneven ground, but Zoryn eventually managed to land one of his blades in the back of a panicked girl who was riding one of the conveyer belts away from the horn. She dropped down instantly, and she landed in the churning vortex of sand far below. She was torn to bits in moments.
Voile Brownlee, District 8 Female: 22nd, Killed by Zoryn, Bloodbath
The idealistic Fifer Golden from District 1 landed his first kill with style. He held a spear in each hand, and he cornered a screaming girl against the cornucopia with no problem at all. Then, Fifer grabbed onto a rope that was dangling from the ceiling and shinnied up it like a squirrel. The girl was paralyzed with both confusion and terror, and she didn't realize that Fifer was falling right on top of her until it was too late. Both of his spears landed in her upper abdomen with all the momentum of the fall, killing her instantly.
Candela Welder, District 5 Female: 21st, Killed by Fifer, Bloodbath
The three anti-careers congregated beside the left wall of the cornucopia. There, there were lots of ropes and bars hanging from the ceiling, which meant there was a lot to grab onto whenever they started sliding. They weren't alone, however; the three anti-careers were fighting for their lives against Zoryn from 4, who was swinging his new sword back and forth with a crazy grin on his face. Lylith sustained a more-than-mild injury when the point of Zoryn's sword connected with her left wrist. Almost half of the hand was now hanging off as though by a hinge. Chipson and Tarrian, seeing the damage Zoryn had done to their friend, tackled him, and even with his superior skills he was outnumbered two to one. Chipson had a dagger in each hand, and Tarrian had a spear. Tarrian kept Zoryn occupied by repeatedly smacking him in the head as Chipson hacked away at his neck and upper chest with his twin daggers.
Zoryn Tempest, District 4 Male: 20th, Killed by Chipson, Bloodbath
Venus ran back and forth across the cornucopia platform like a pinball in a pinball machine being piloted by a maniac. She tackled the miner boy who still stank like coal despite the week he'd spent in the Capitol. He screamed and tried to run, but Venus was quick to skewer her sword through his neck. His shrieks were soon choked by the sound of blood, and he died swiftly.
Crosby Puckett, District 12 Male: 19th, Killed by Venus, Bloodbath
Ishania from 6 made the final kill. She'd been running in circles around the cornucopia for several dozen seconds, anxiously turning the leather strap of her whip back and forth in her hand. She wasn't entirely on board with the sheer malicious power it would take to kill someone with the spiked weapon, but she knew the only way to garner sponsors was to draw blood and murder tributes. Ishania was prepared to do so. Besides the five careers, only two tributes were left in the immediate vicinity of the cornucopia: Ishania and the rancher girl from District 10. Ishania lashed out with her whip, and the leather strap wrapped around the girl's arm with a lethal firm grip. With a heavy yank, half of the limb was torn off. The girl fell to the ground, writhing, as Ishinia grabbed onto the nearest rope and left the cornucopia behind.
Hester Goldstein, District 10 Female: 18th, Killed by Ishania, Bloodbath
A total of twenty-eight seconds after it had all begun, the bloodbath had reached its conclusion. The five remaining careers (Fifer, Fragrance, Kenton, Venus, and Sirena) hastily geared up and headed on the prowl. In this tiny arena, finding victims would be easier than ever before, and they didn't want to waste a single second of precious hunting time. They correctly guessed that Maddox wanted these games to be the shortest ever; he was planning to end them before the end of the second day, and maybe even the first day if he was feeling ambitious. Chipson, Lylith, and Tarrian sprinted through the thick of props, dodging traps and the several sudden pitfalls scattered around the place. The trio hunkered down in one of the prop rooms at the north end of the circus tent. Lylith was bleeding heavily from her left wrist, and Chipson and Tarrian helped her fashion a thick bandage out of cloth and a bit of spare adhesive they found in one of the drawers. The pain was still unbearable, but it did at least something to staunch Lylith's bleeding. Harriet dashed through the rows of seats, scooping up the various supplies that were hidden among them. She found that some areas of seating held more supplies than the actual cornucopia, and before long she'd filled an entire backpack with weapons, medical supplies, and packages of food. Ishania was a gymnast back home in District 6, so she knew a thing or two about defying gravity. She climbed up one of the trapezes and secured herself up there so that she was hanging by her middle. The stellar height would have been terrifying for most, but Ishania felt safe and secure high above the rest of the tributes. Chopper locked himself in one of the dressing rooms and turned the light off, plunging himself into pitch darkness. He'd come dangerously close to death at two different points during the bloodbath, and he was terrified out of his mind. He crawled into a closet and closed his eyes, lightly rocking back and forth and whimpering softly. Russet thought that the iron grates mounted into the ground near the sandpit led somewhere, like rooms that held useful supplies or maybe whole other sections of the arena. In reality, vicious lion mutts were being held behind them. Russet tried to pick one of the locks, hoping to reach whatever imaginary treasure was on the other side. Ava sprinted to the top row of seats, crying. Her forehead was drenched with sweat, both from exhaustion and terror. Her small size allowed her to crawl comfortable under the seats, with a bit of room to breathe as well. She grabbed a bucket of popcorn that sat nearby and munched nervously on the buttery snack. Mik discovered one of the few doors that led underneath the tiered seats. Underneath, he was completely hidden from sight, and it was pleasantly cool. He bunched himself up into a dark corner and tried to rest. He was almost exactly below the spot where Ava was hiding. Hydrangea was about thirty feet from the cornucopia when a sudden jet of fire blasted into the side of her torso, scorching her instantly. For several seconds, she felt nothing at all, and then an explosive kind of agony exploded through her. She fell to her knees, screaming at the top of her lungs, and the charred black skin on her side crumbled away like burnt paper. She dragged herself the remaining few feet to a make-up room, where she nervously brushed herself to keep calm. Twyla settled down on the edge of the sand pit, in a slightly lowered crevice just in front of the first row of seats. She tore down the thick red banner that hung there and wrapped it around herself. She hoped it would work like armor and do at least something to protect her from the more bloodthirsty tributes, but she ended up removing it after a few minutes because she was getting so sweaty. Rancher sprinted through the rows of seats scooping up supplies to his heart's content. Unbeknownst to him, he was drawing nearer and nearer to one of the arena's most dangerous traps, a mechanism that would fling a torrent of knives down onto whoever broke the tripwire. He was running too fast to pay any attention to what was sitting on the ground, and the wire blended in almost seamlessly with the bleacher-like seats. Rancher felt a faint tickle on his lower leg when he broke the wire, and the next instant at least two dozen knives had appeared out of nowhere, flying in his direction. Seven of them landed in his body. He instinctively yanked them all out, which only made him bleed out faster. His sponsors hastily sent him a roll of gauze and some adhesive, but this only drew out his suffering. He was dead in minutes, but his body was so shattered that he was better off anyway.
Rancher Driscoll, District 10 Male: 17th, Killed by Knife Trap, Day 1
The careers were hunting wildly still, and with the first post-bloodbath cannon shot firing less than two minutes afterward their suspicions were confirmed that these games were meant to be extremely short. The arena was so small that there was no point splitting up, however unproductive it seemed at first to hunt in one large pack of five. Kenton was the glue that held the group together, shouting little motivational spiels to the others to keep them up and running. He'd removed the red nose the gamemakers had given him as his uniform, but he still had a ridiculous amount of make-up and a silly clown suit that he didn't have time to properly remove. His district partner Venus was close at hand, and Fifer, Fragrance, and Sirena were a few meters farther back. Sirena was somewhat awkward and just a tad bit too childish, and she kept bursting out into laughing fits at the sights of the others' ridiculous costumes. When Fragrance almost tripped over her own clown shoes and Sirena burst out laughing, Fifer reminded her that her own clothes weren't too flattering either. That shut her up for the next few moments.
The careers had been hunting for about five minutes when Fifer stopped dead in his tracks, having spotted Harriet moving quietly through the top row of seats. Her body was only a dark, faint silhouette against the wall of the tent, but there was no mistaking her. The careers charged, Kenton and Venus leading the onrush. Harriet had just stumbled upon a box of popcorn and a two-liter bottle of soda pop, and she was marveling at her find when she heard the battle cries of the nearing pack. She hurled the bucket of popcorn in Venus' face, and she momentarily faltered long enough for Sirena to knock into her. The girls collapsed in a heap, nearly toppling Fifer in their descent. Kenton and Fragrance kept up the chase, but it was difficult to keep up with a now-bolting Harriet in the dark seating area. In moments, she'd escaped, and Kenton just sighed hollowly as he and Fragrance turned around to rejoin their jumbled allies.
The diminutive girl from 9, Ava, had been watching the chase play out from underneath one of the nearby seats. At one point, Sirena came within five feet of her, and it took every ounce of Ava's self-control to keep from screaming and bolting with terror. With both Harriet and the careers off of her chest, Ava lightly slithered out from underneath the seat. Crouched down so that the seats towered over the top of her head, she lightly moved toward safety.
Hydrangea was still in the make-up room. By this point, at least ten minutes had passed since the fire trap had scorched her side, and Hydrangea was seriously considering suicide to put herself out of her misery. With a faint beeping sound, a silver parachute twinkled through a fake part of the ceiling and landed in her lap. Medicine sent by her wealthy sponsors. Hydrangea sighed with relief as she slathered the pink goop onto her wounds. Hoping to track down at least one victim to thank her wealthy savior, Hydrangea left the make-up room. What she didn't know was that Russet was just outside the door, hiding from the nearby anti-career trio in the dark hallway. When Hydrangea opened the door, Russet was almost knocked to the ground. He hastily grabbed the nearest weapon, a spare plank of wood, and thrust it in Hydrangea's direction. His blood turned to ice when he realized Hydrangea had a spear and outgunned him by a significant amount. Russet made a run for it. Hydrangea tried to chase after him, but she had much shorter legs. Fortunately, the nearby anti-career trio had been thrown off of Russet's trail by the faint footsteps of another tribute. Russet had no further difficulties in ducking down behind a nearby popcorn machine and staring silently at his feet. He hadn't abandoned his attempts to break through the iron grates just off of the central sand pit, though. He swore he'd break through and see what was on the other side if it was the last thing he did.
Even the careers, these games' keenest tributes, had difficulty making out the faint tripwire that was around twenty meters ahead of the place they chose to stop for a quick rest. Venus handed out the food rations to the others and they practically inhaled their helpings. The others stayed relatively still while they ate, but Venus walked back and forth anxiously. She was nervous, excited, and intimidated, and this whirlwind of emotions occupied her whole psyche and distracted her from the obvious tripwire in front of her. Her waist hit the tripwire and broke it, and Venus stumbled backward, terrified at what she'd triggered as a shattering sound filled the air. The other careers froze, several of them mid-bite, as a torrent of glass shards appeared seemingly out of thin air. Some were as small as grains of sand and the largest were as wide as sheets of paper. At least a hundred of them impaled her flesh, and Venus curled up on the ground, shaking and screaming at the prickling agony of impalement. Her district partner Kenton ran to her side and tried hastily to save her, but her cannon shot fired when he'd hardly pulled two dozen shards out of her skin.
Venus Talbot, District 2 Female: 16th, Killed by Glass Trap, Day 1
It was now seven o'clock in the morning, exactly one hour after the gong. Down in the central sandpit, Russet worked feverishly to pick the lock on the iron grate that led away into darkness. He knew there was a sizable chance he didn't want to meet what was on the other side, but the not knowing was too much to bear. Russet's uncle was a locksmith, so he did know a thing or two about how to pick them effectively. His downfall was that he brushing the teeth of the lock from front to back rather than back to front; in this way, his progress was instantly erased whenever he removed his device (an unfolded paper clip he'd found in a trash can a few meters away).
As Russet worked hard to open up the gate, the cameras caught up on the anti-career pack and their whereabouts. Lylith had healed significantly in the hour since the bloodbath, but she still seemed on her way to death from blood loss if she didn't get serious medical help sooner than later. The trio had been sprinting around the circus tent for about ten minutes straight when they all agreed they needed to sleep. The ducked down behind a concession stand and munched on chips and popcorn. Chipson peeled back Lylith's bandages to check up on her injury, and he was instantly struck with the resounding realization that she was beyond saving. The look in his eyes said it all, and Tarrian nodded gravely while Lylith herself just kept eating her potato chips, sour cream flavor, her favorite.
Finally, around his hundredth attempt, Russet managed to fully unlock the iron grate. The lock let out a satisfying click and then then the gate slowly began lifting itself into the stone wall above. Russet slowly treaded inside, and his screams signaled his fatal mistake. His cannon shot fired, and the bloodthirsty mutt walked slowly out of its dark prison, stretching its limbs as though it hadn't walked in years. Its claws and maw were both splattered with human blood. The lion mutt thundered off to search for more victims, and the cameras zoomed in to show Russet's torn, unrecognizable body shredded to bits and scattered around the dark stone chamber.
Russet Sanchez, District 8 Male: 15th, Killed by Lion Muttation, Day 1
Tarrian woke up screaming to the sensation of the lion mutt's scorching hot slobber on his foreleg. For the past twenty minutes or so, he and the other anti-careers had been sleeping soundly behind a concession stand with a red and white parasol umbrella overtop. Chipson and Lylith leapt to their feet and staggered backward, dumbfounded with terror as the lion mutt raked its claws across his leg. Tarrian fell to his knees, gasping and shaking; blood was already pouring in torrents from his gash-like wounds. With Tarrian on the ground screaming his head off and Lylith standing with her mouth wide open, her club-like bandaged fist hanging limp at her side, it was Chipson's job alone to drive the lion mutt away from himself and his friends. He quickly snatched a soda off of the concessions stand and held it at arm's length like a club. He ended up throwing it into the lion's mouth, and the mutt instinctively chomped down. The plastic bottle exploded instantly, and the lion mutt roared, the strange new flavor shocking it to the core. A terrified Tarrian quickly got to his feet and helped out Chipson with the job. They sent it reeling with a mixture of sodas, chips, and other snacks.
They quickly realized that Lylith was nowhere to be found; she was running for her life through the front row of seats, crying softly to herself and yelping with terror at the slightest sound. She felt bad about abandoning her allies to fend for themselves against the deadly lion, but with one hand severed and leaking blood she knew it would have been suicide to stick around. Lylith eventually sprinted into a women's restroom, and she locked herself into one of the stalls and hoped it would protect her from the oncoming threats she knew she would not be able to fend off.
The four-strong career pack was dangerously near the ferocious feline. They heard its roars quickly enough to move to safety. A panicked Sirena began sprinting down the nearest aisle, but Fifer grabbed onto her and pulled her back. Mutts were usually designed with poor eyesight, and Fifer knew that if the pack was still and silent enough they just might be able to go unnoticed. He was right, in a way. Kenton quickly caught on and instructed the others to follow suit as he crouched down and then crawled like a crab into the nearest row of seats, which more or less hid him from sight.
Despite their smart attempt to go unnoticed, the lion mutt inevitably caught onto their scent sooner than later. Four tasty humans, however sneaky, couldn't stay off of its radar for very long. The careers scattered like bowling pins when the lion mutt pounced into their midst. Sirena stayed close to Kenton, hoping that the strongest tribute in these games could protect her if the lion chose her as its next victim. The 1s ran in opposite directions. In a way, the pack encircled the mutt. Fifer just grinned when it turned toward him, and the audience knew he had something up his sleeve. Just as the lion came near enough to ram into him, he grabbed hold of its mane and pulled himself onto its back. It tried to buck him off, but Fifer's grip on its mane was strong. The others fell back into the shadows and watched with fascination as Fifer buried the first of his twin spears into its neck. He was preparing to use the other when his grip loosened enough for the lion to buck him off. Fifer crumpled down into the nearest seat, gasping with pain. The profusely bleeding lion mutt sprinted back to its home. Fragrance helped to cover up Fifer's wounds. The charismatic boy was up and running in no time, and the pack continued their hunt after a short rest thereafter.
Mik remained still as a stone in the dark, empty space underneath the tiered rows of seating. Suddenly, he heard a deafening boom, and he jumped to his feet. Breathing heavily, he whipped out his flashlight and swept it back and forth. There was nothing to be seen that was out of the ordinary. The boom came again, and he realized that it was coming from above. In fact, the careers' tussle with the bloodthirsty lion mutt was taking place directly above him. Mik knew he was probably safe down in his hiding place, but he did want to place a little more distance between himself and the epicenter of the deafening rumbles. He soon realized that he was not alone in the long, hidden space. Harriet laid low and crawled into a poorly-lit corner when she saw Mik coming. When he was close enough, Harriet jumped out of her hiding place. Mik screamed and stumbled backward, and he collided with one of the metal posts that held up the tiers of seating. His skull hit the post and made a sound like a bell. He rubbed his eyes and blinked back the spots in his vision and saw Harriet towering over him. She punched Mik in the torso with all the strength she could muster, and now he was far too weak to fight back. Harriet knocked him unconscious with a few heavy tosses of her fists, and then she wrapped her arm around his neck. Harriet's face crinkled up as she let go of her victim about a minute later, and Mik flopped to the ground like a rag doll.
Mik Susurrus, District 11 Male: 14th, Killed by Harriet, Day 1
After that, roughly an hour passed without incident. The four remaining careers, Fifer, Fragrance, Kenton, and Sirena, were all exhausted after their fight against the escaped lion mutt. Fifer was in the most desperate need of rest. The pack sat down at a snack bar near the entrance of the circus tent and munched on bananas, apples, popcorn, and orange rice to get their energy back. Kenton pulled open the entrance and tossed a popcorn kernel out of it; a fraction of a second later, it bounced back and hit his forehead. They had been resting for about ten minutes when Twyla appeared out of nowhere, bolting at top speed after a near-death experience with a fire trap about thirty feet back. Kenton and Sirena jumped up and chased after her, while Fifer and Fragrance stayed behind. Kenton and Sirena tried their best to corner her, but Kenton set off a glass trap, causing dozens of little glass shards to bury themselves into himself and Sirena. By the time they got their bearings, Twyla was nowhere to be found, having ducked through a hidden trapdoor that led to a passageway to the central sand pit.
The outliers weren't doing much. The gamemakers had unleashed the second lion mutt, and it almost caught Chipson and Tarrian off of their guard. The boys were resting in the dark seating area when the lion mutt pounced out of nowhere. Tarrian's body seized up with terror and shock, and a more grounded Chipson had to tug him along for the first few seconds before he realized he could use his own legs again. The boys hid in the first closed room they saw, the dressing room, and locked themselves inside. They hastily searched for a back exit they could escape through. There wasn't one. Chipson and Tarrian seemed as good as dead, but that didn't stop them from brainstorming different ways to escape before the mutt busted down the door and ate them both. Harriet lied down for a rest, and she deserved it; she was now the only tribute to have made a kill since the bloodbath, and the audience showered her with various sponsor gifts, a belt of throwing knives being the most valuable. Ishania remained calm and level-headed, swinging slightly back and forth with a great view of the entire circus tent. Her whip was clenched tightly in hand. The audience continued to be impressed by her fearlessness. Once, the rope that held her began to slip, and Ishania reinforced it without breaking a sweat. There was something intriguing and easy-going about her that the audience loved. Chopper was terrified. He sprinted aimlessly around the circus tent, and the awful thing was that he could hear the screams and shouts of the others without actually being able to see them. In the closed space, every slight noise echoed like thunder. Chopper was just about to sit down cross-legged for a break when he made out the dark silhouette of a small girl scampering nearby, as light and small as a mouse. Ava had no idea that Chopper had seen her. Chopper lightly chased after her. Once, Ava thought she heard something and peered over her shoulder, but Chopper stayed still enough to blend into the dark background and remain unseen. Lylith and Hydrangea ganged up after the former stumbled into the latter's shadowy hiding place in the spot where two rows of the bleacher-like seats intersected. Hydrangea had already made one kill, and she wasn't above making another one, but she had taken a liking to Lylith during training and didn't see the harm to taking her as an ally. For about forty-five minutes, the girls showed each other how to use their weapons. Lylith's bandaged wound where her left hand had been nearly severed during the bloodbath had finally stopped bleeding, but the true agony was now beginning to set in, like the most pure hellish fire Lylith had ever felt. Hydrangea didn't have any medical supplies on her, and it was all she could do to console her new ally as she rolled back and forth, gasping and begging for the pain to leave her.
Moments after nine in the morning, three cannon shots fired, ending the long period of tranquility in the arena. Chopper had been stalking Ava around the circus tent for roughly fifteen minutes when the little girl sat down in one of the seats for a short nap; her feet barely touched the floor. Chopper waited until she fell asleep. Her soft snores were his signal to go in for the kill. Chopper pounced out of the shadows and produced the single knife he'd grabbed from the bloodbath, a dagger with an oddly sparkly blade. Ava woke up screaming at the top of her lungs, and she looked down and saw Chopper's dagger lodged awkwardly into her abdomen. The nearby career team heard Ava's screams and ran in their direction; Chopper had opened up a whole can of worms for himself that would be interesting for the cameras, at the very least.
Ava Claimer, District 9 Female: 13th, Killed by Chopper, Day 1
Breathing heavily from both guilt and tiredness, Chopper walked slowly forward and searched Ava to see if she'd been carrying anything valuable at the time of her death. All she had on her was a half-empty bucket of popcorn and a completely empty bottle of flavored soda. Chopper gobbled down the remainder of the popcorn and turned around. He was instantly met with the bite of Sirena's knife in his gut. Chopper's eyes dropped, and he realized that his worst fears had become reality as the four trained tributes surrounded him on all sides. The knife in his gut was seemingly sapping away at his strength, and with the last ounce of his willpower he grabbed Sirena by the shoulders and shoved her backward. She tripped over one of the seats and went crashing to the ground. The others rushed in to stop him, but it was too late. Chopper had already lodged his shiny knife into her chest. Sirena's lungs had flooded with blood in moments, and she drowned quickly. Chopper collapsed at her side soon after, bleeding out from the severe injury he'd sustained. Two cannon shots fired in rapid succession.
Sirena Conrad, District 4 Female: 12th, Killed by Chopper, Day 1
Chopper Turnbull, District 7 Male: 11th, Killed by Sirena, Day 1
Fifer, Fragrance, and Kenton looked up from the dead bodies of the two tributes and stared at each other for several seconds before their departure. A few minutes later, Fifer perked up. He heard Lylith's faint moans of pain, and Kenton and Fragrance could hear them too once Fifer got them to quiet down. The careers sprinted toward the dying Lylith and her ally Hydreangea. They took a number of wrong turns along the way, but they were headed generally in the right direction. They were expected to reach the girls' camp within ten minutes at the most.
Hydrangea had done all she could to ease the pain of her ally, but she finally accepted that there was no saving her. Hydrangea didn't like being around her given how much noise she was making; if another tribute caught onto Lylith's soft moans, Hydrangea would probably be killed also. Lylith eventually fell into an uneasy sleep. Hydrangea hesitated for a moment, then grabbed her spear and made a mad dash for the exit. When she left the room, the career team was less than one hundred feet away, and they were sprinting in her directions. She had about five seconds to make her choice before she was seen. Hydrangea ran into the nearest rows of seats and desperately dashed toward the darkest area nearby. Miraculously, it worked, and she remained unseen. The careers peered into the make-up room where Lylith was sleeping but didn't see her tucked away into her dark corner, so they left quickly. They figured the screams had merely been fabricated by the gamemakers to add a bit of excitement to the competition, but why they would do that rather than just give them an actual tribute they didn't know.
Chipson and Tarrian had been cowering inside of the dressing room for over an hour now, but the lion mutt was still banging and clawing at the door, trying with all of its strength to break through. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and their method of escape was extremely risky to say the least. Chipson had the idea, and he ordered Tarrian to grab everything flammable that he could. Tarrian already thought he knew what was going on. The boys piled up costumes and spare pieces of paper into the center of the room. A match twinkled through the ceiling in a silver parachute, and Chipson tossed it into the pile. Fortunately, the pile quickly began to burn, and Tarrian sprinted toward the door, preparing to unlock it and throw all caution to the wind.
The moment that Tarrian opened the door, the lion mutt burst inside. It was an ugly thing, with a mane the color of vomit and bubbles of spit foaming out of the sides of its mouth. Most terrifyingly, it was stained with blood. Chipson hurriedly grabbed a burning black dress off of the pile and tossed it in the lion's direction. The dress caught on its snout, and the lion roared as its fur turned black and then smoldered away. Tarrian followed suit. They had to burn the lion in at least twenty different places before it ran for the exit and bolted away to look for less unruly victims. It was somewhat of a cowardly lion, after all.
Twyla had been camping out in the central ring for far too long, and she knew it was time to move. She got to her feet, wiped the sand off of her pants, and ran toward the first row of seats. She was too anxious to pay any attention to traps. Before she could take ten steps, her foot caught onto a tripwire, and Twyla screeched like a banshee as a jet of fire appeared out of nowhere, scorching her legs and abdomen. She immediately collapsed to the ground, screaming at the top of her lungs. She looked like a villain dissolving into dust at the end of a fantasy movie.
Ishania, who was still perched calmly at the top of the circus tent, heard Twyla's screams and felt terrible for the poor girl. She knew it was the kindest thing to put her out of her suffering, and Ishania didn't see the harm in racking up another kill along the way. Ishania gently untied herself and then grabbed onto the rope with both hands. If she was scared, she didn't show it. She shinnied down the rope and then dropped down meters away from Twyla. Ishania was reluctant to use her whip, as it made far too much noise and she knew it was the last weapon she wanted to use to give someone a painless death. Ishania scooped up a handful of sand and dropped it down into the writhing girl's mouth. It ran down her throat like an hourglass. Twyla tried desperately to cough up the alien substance, but she was dead in minutes despite her attempts to save herself.
Twyla McPhail, District 12 Female: 10th, Killed by Ishania, Day 1
Hydrangea was seated comfortably near the edge of the circus tent, biting her nails anxiously. The most terrifying thing was that so many deaths were being crammed into one day that there was no death recap; the tributes had no idea which of the tributes were alive and which were dead. Unbeknownst to her, Hydrangea was dangerously near the dressing room that Chipson and Tarrian had recently broken out of, meaning that she was the lion's next victim. Hydrangea heard the light footsteps of the lion to her left, and she slowly turned her head to face the dark aisle. She let out a small noise when the big cat stepped out of the darkness. Abandoning all forms of caution, Hydrangea ran for her life. The chase was over after roughly ten minutes. Hydrangea stopped dead in her tracks, gasping and sweating, and turned around to face the charging feline. At the last second, she dove out of the way, and the lion tackled the space where she had been standing the instant prior. The entire row of seats buckled under the weight of the impact, and with a deafening crash the tiered seating area began collapsing. Hydrangea heard the lion growling under the pile of collapsed seats and bowls of popcorn, and she sprinted in the opposite direction as quickly as her feet could carry her.
The nearest tributes, the three remaining careers, heard the deafening crash of the collapse and ran toward it to investigate. They figured that some random outlier had loosened the seats enough to collapse with the intent of crushing some other tribute to death, and the pack thought it would be a mere matter of polishing them off. Big mistake. As soon as they grew close enough to peer down into the gap, the lion mutt leapt out of the gaping wound. Fifer, Fragrance, and Kenton stumbled backward, terrified, as the cat bared its sharp claws and went in for the kill.
On the other side of the arena, Harriet received a blessing in disguise. She heard the roars of the second lion mutt and grabbed the belt of five throwing knives she'd been sponsored a few hours prior. Just as she mumbled that she wished she had just a few more useful weapons, her ankle broke a tripwire and a torrent of knives fired themselves in her direction. Harriet lunged forward and managed to dodge the trap; only one of the knives made contact with her, and even that only inflicted a minor cut. Smiling slightly, Harriet gathered up the various knives scattered around and stuffed them into her pockets.
The cameras zoomed in and showed as the gamemakers sedated and retrieved the lion mutt. The cameras also showed the dead body of Fifer sprawled out on the ground like a dead bug. Fragrance and Kenton towered over him, grimacing at his unsightly remains. The career pack's fight against the deadly muttation had been long and hard, but the gamemakers instructed it to keep on fighting until it killed at least one of the trio. Fifer met his doom when the mutt tackled him and raked its claws across his chest. Blood spurted in torrents from the chorus of thin, parallel wounds. The others tried to help him, but he was far too shattered to ever get back up again.
Fifer Golden, District 1 Male: 9th, Killed by Lion Muttation, Day 1
That left the final eight: Fragrance Mullins from District 1, Kenton Haullis from District 2, Chipson Harris and Harriet Duke from District 3, Ishania Pendergrass from District 6, Lylith Blanchard from District 7, Tarrian Browder from District 9, and Hydrangea Tinsel from District 11.
A cannon shot fired less than a minute afterward. Chipson and Tarrian's travels at the far north end of the circus tent brought them to the small make-up room. Five mirrors were mounted into the back wall, each surrounded by glowing lights, and shelves lined the walls with enough makeup to paint a house. The boys sat cross-legged on the ground and snacked on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches courtesy of their sponsors. Tarrian felt more than a little uncomfortable out in the open, and he suggested that the move into the dark corner for the remainder of their break. That way, he said, they wouldn't be spotted instantly if another tribute entered the room. Tarrian walked into the dark corner and almost screamed when he tripped over another tribute: Lylith Blanchard, the third member of the anti-career triangle. Lylith was mere minutes from death from blood loss, and she just stared sadly at Tarrian, whispering, "please please please please please," over and over again. Tarrian couldn't tell if she was begging for him to spare her or end her suffering. Tarrian thrust his knives into her neck. The poor girl barely felt it.
Lylith Blanchard, District 7 Female: 8th, Killed by Tarrian, Day 1
Fragrance and Kenton hunted more wildly than ever before. There were only seven tributes left in the arena, and the conditions of this year's arena seemed perfect for a "stampede" kind of event to take place sooner than later, like the dancer mutts of the eighty-seventh games or the student mutts of the fifty-second games. They were right; an entire parade of mutts carefully designed by Maddox and his team were waiting just outside the tent, waiting in perfect silence only so they could sabotage the arena at Maddox's command once the time was right. Bloodthirsty Kenton was always a few strides ahead of Fragrance, and sometimes he even left her in the dust. Fragrance was exhausted and maybe even a little bored, but she was smart enough to keep her mouth shut and keep from talking back to her stronger ally.
At her latest count, Harriet Duke had a total of fourteen knives, and it was only a matter of time before the gamemakers moved a tribute toward her to see what she was capable of. The nearest tribute was Hydrangea from 11, and the audience waited with bated breath as the tributes grew nearer and nearer. With two of the most popular outliers mere meters away from one another, the results were sure to be interesting. Hydrangea was breathing heavily in and out. Moments earlier, she'd been roused from sleep by a terrifying clown mutt with a bloody face and razor sharp claws. Little did anyone know that this clown mutt was the first of several hundred that would appear in these games. The clown mutt only drew away once Hydrangea and Harriet came near enough to see each other through the dimly-lit circus tent. A beam of flashing light originating above the center ring fell over Hydrangea, illuminating her tiny form, and Harriet leapt into action. The fight that ensued was roughly five minutes long, and it ended in a draw. Once, Harriet managed to bury one of her knives into Hydrangea's shoulder, and Hydrangea tore it straight out and hurled it back in Harriet's direction. The blade pierced her gut, and Harriet screamed in agony, blinded from the pain long enough for Hydrangea to escape.
Hydrangea Tinsel had been running for less than five minutes when she came to a rather peculiar location: what she thought was the front entrance of the circus tent. The entrance was set up somewhat like a curtain, with two layers that would slide apart when a drawstring was pulled. Hydrangea reached through the veil and only felt a solid stone wall behind. Hydrangea turned in frustration, but a human voice caught her attention and she turned back around.
The face of Head Gamemaker Maddox Courval was projected onto the curtain, and Hydrangea realized for the first time that it wasn't an exit at all; it was a screen. Maddox gave Hydrangea a long speech about the clown mutt that had attacked her only a few minutes before: who designed it, how it was created, and more. Then, Maddox dove into the various other mutts throughout Hunger Games history. Hydrangea was both intrigued and fascinated by the display, and her eyes were glued to the screen. Maddox told her about the kraken mutt of the seventy-sixth, the wolf mutts of the seventy-seventh, the vulture mutts of the seventy-eighth, the basilisk mutt of the seventy-ninth, the snake mutts of the eightieth, the dragon mutt of the eighty-first, the ghost mutts of the eighty-second, the unicorn mutts of the eighty-third, the rover mutts of the eighty-fourth, the ghoul mutts of the eighty-fifth, the flea mutts of the eighty-sixth, the camel mutts of the eighty-seventh, the spider mutt of the eighty-eighth, and the raven mutts of the eighty-ninth.
"Thank you for listening, miss. I hope you've learned a thing or two. And now for the mutts of the ninetieth annual Hunger Games. Ladies and gentlemen, if you will."
Hydrangea didn't have time to breathe before the curtain was torn down and the swarm of nearly two-hundred clown mutts poured into the arena. They were all tall and thin, and their fingers were topped with razor-sharp claws that were about five inches long and curved at the ends. Their faces and hands were covered with blood. Somewhat like the ghost mutts of the eighty-second, they all had some kind of bodily abnormality, like a missing eye or an extra arm or no head. Hydrangea was too petrified to take a single step before the clown mutts shoved her straight to the ground. She screamed her head off and struggled to break free of their undulating swell, but Hydrangea was helpless as the clown mutts threw her up and down and tore her to bits with their deadly claws.
Hydrangea Tinsel, District 11 Female: 7th, Killed by Clown Muttations, Day 1
Nearby, Harriet jumped to her feet when she heard the deafening rumble of the mutts. The cackling of the creepy clowns rose up into a hideous kind of choir, like the sound of pebbles being shaken around a glass jar amplified to nearly one-hundred and thirty decibels. Harriet ran parallel to the growing crowd. They seemed to be rushing into the cloth tent in groups of about twenty, which made it at least somewhat possible to predict their movements. However, the clowns were smarter than Harriet gave them credit for, and she didn't realize that they were closing it around her until it was too late. Harriet tackled the nearest mutt and sent it to the ground with one of her knives, and it knocked down two of its neighbors in its descent. She felled four more and sent nine reeling before one of them grabbed her by the back of the neck. Harriet threw her fist and smacked it straight in the mouth. The mutt roared in agony and let go of Harriet, who ran for her life before any of them could take hold of her again.
Tarrian and Chipson were both in the makeup room, and Tarrian was sleeping lightly in the corner once occupied by Lylith. Meanwhile, Chipson was tiredly standing guard. Chipson roused Tarrian at the first signs of trouble. The boys peeked out of the door and saw the first crowd of mutts closing in on little Hydrangea from 11. Chipson stood his ground and forced himself to think straight despite his initial wave of panic. Tarrian was a different story. His fight-or-flight instinct kicked in, and he abandoned his ally without a backward glance. Tarrian disappeared into the depths of the tiered seats, and Chipson just groaned hollowly.
Trying not to shake too much, Chipson ran to the nearest shelf of nail polish and peered at the labels. They were all flammable. He cut out a section of the carpet with his knife and bunched it up into a remote corner; he didn't want his fire getting too out of hand. The Capitol quickly caught onto his plan and sent him a case of matches. Chipson lit the bunched-up carpet on fire, and it rose to a roaring inferno just as the first tide of clown mutts poured into the room.
Chipson Harris wasn't the smartest tribute the games had ever seen, but his father loved baseball, and he sure knew how to throw like a pro.
He grabbed a sparkly blue nail polish and tipped it toward the fire so that the wooden cork caught ablaze. Then, he closed one eye and tossed it into the midst of the crowd. For a scary second, nothing happened. Then the cork burned through and the bottle of nail polish exploded, splashing flaming liquid onto each of the clowns in the immediate vicinity. They collapsed like rag dolls, burning away like paper, and soon the entire crowd was a mass of roaring flame. He quickly splashed himself with water from the nearest sink and burst into the hallway. He tossed another bottle of liquid fire onto the next tide of killer mutts. Then he sprinted for all his life was worth. With the help of his knives and more than a little bit more fire, he fought his way out of the crowd. Chipson collapsed in one of the seats and fell asleep instantly, both sweating profusely and tired beyond belief.
Chipson's fires were bad news for two tributes that were lost in the crowd. Fragrance and Kenton had been cornered against the wall of the tent. They pounded against the cloth and tried to break out, but all they felt was the force field beyond. With the help of their trusty weapons, Fragrance and Kenton managed to kill at least twenty of the mutts. Suddenly, the smell of smoke filled the air, and the scared careers saw the fire rolling over the crowd at an alarming speed. Soon, all of the mutts surrounding them were engulfed in flame, and the careers had literally nowhere to run without being fried to death. Fragrance's clothes caught on fire first, and the hungry inferno quickly transferred to her ally. They tried their best to put themselves out. It was useless. Stop, drop, and roll has its limits, it would seem.
Fragrance Mullins, District 1 Female: 6th, Killed by Chipson, Day 1
Kenton Haullis, District 2 Male: 5th, Killed by Chipson, Day 1
The gamemakers had their fun letting the clown mutts run rampant through the arena, but now that only four tributes remained it was time for their removal. First, a series of fire sprinkles went off in the heavily crowded areas of the tent, dousing the fires. The fireproof material which made up the tent was burnt black, but it had not collapsed or weakened at all. The District 8 factory workers that had designed the material were delivered large stores of grain and oil as a reward. Getting all of the creepy clowns back out of the exit in an orderly fashion was a nasty and long process, and it took about an hour to accomplish fully. Then the only sound was the heavy breathing of the tributes and the blaring "Entry of the Gladiators" tune.
The four remaining tributes did very little as minute after minute ticked by without incident. Chipson was tired, battered, and covered with small bruises and scrapes. Most severely, a black injury was beginning to form on his leg where a drop of the flaming nail polish had hit him. A sponsor sent him some disinfectant cream and a damp rag to clean and bind the wound, and then Chipson put his feet up, breathing steadily in and out and willing himself to heal. Harriet found a little souvenir stall that was selling small rubber figurines of elephants, lions, and other circus animals. She spread out under the stall and removed her belt and her pack. The feeling of relief was heavenly, and Harriet fell asleep quickly. Ishania stayed near the cornucopia; in fact, she was actively moving toward it. She climbed up one of the trapezes and crawled across a number of nets before she came to one of the conveyer belts. Reaching the horn was difficult; she had to move across the rope in the opposite direction that it was moving. Ishania reached the horn after several scary minutes and crouched down inside of it. Unfortunately, the horn was empty of supplies; just after the bloodbath, the careers had tossed all their excess supplies into the churning sand pit before they left to hunt. Ishania laid down in the cornucopia and tried to sleep. Tarrian was the one tribute who was moving rather than resting. He travelled in a wide arc-shaped path around the cornucopia, spear held firmly in his grasp. He was determined to make at least one more kill before the finale; only now, he realized how stupid he'd been to abandon Chipson rather than stay at his side and have a part in his memorable scheme. He hoped that by making a bloody kill he could get back on the Capitol's good side, as he knew he was the least popular of this year's final four.
It was now ten o'clock in the morning. The ninetieth annual Hunger Games had ten minutes left.
Harriet peered out of the wooden stall when she heard Tarrian's footsteps. There was no point staying the closed space any longer, so Harriet got to her feet. Tarrian chuckled, feigning absolute confidence. Tarrian severely underestimated Harriet's prowess; she had only scored a five in her private session, but she had absolutely not been showing her full potential. Tarrian pounced, brandishing his spear. His grin quickly turned to a look of terror as Harriet produced all fourteen of her knives. Tarrian couldn't change the direction of his path before Harriet lashed out and buried two of the blades into his chest. Tarrian fell to his knees, coughing up blood. Harriet pulled her knives out of his abdomen and then scampered away. His cannon shot coincided almost seamlessly with the beat of the blaring trumpet tune.
Tarrian Browder, District 9 Male: 4th, Killed by Harriet, Day 1
Harriet rushed in the direction of the cornucopia, and Chipson did the same when he heard Tarrian's cannon shot. The gamemakers disabled all of the traps in the arena; they had a solid final three, and they didn't want one of them to die before the finale. Harriet reached the daunting obstacle course first and grabbed onto the first net. It flipped and frayed and tried to make her fall off, but Harriet was strong and determined and didn't give up until the cornucopia came into sight. Ishania was crouched down in the back of the cornucopia, and she let out a scream when Harriet came into sight. She leapt to her feet, brandishing her whip. Harriet produced her famous knives and the duel began.
Chipson was the last tribute to reach the cornucopia. He had to swing between a number of trapezes to reach the cornucopia, which weren't his strong suit by any stretch of the imagination, as he wasn't particularly fond of heights. When Chipson finally reached the cornucopia, he ducked behind it. He wasn't interested in fighting Harriet and Ishania. What he was interested in were the ropes that held up the cornucopia. The cornucopia platform hung from the ceiling of the tent by three different ropes. Chipson pulled out his knife and started sawing at the nearest rope, slowly cutting through strand after strand. The ropes were strong, and it was exhausting work. The groans of the girls and the cracks of Ishania's whip kept them from hearing him, fortunately. By the time he'd cut halfway through the rope, four of Chipson's fingers were merely bruised, and the other six were torn, scabbed, and bleeding to high heaven. But he kept up the difficult work.
When the cornucopia began creaking and rocking back and forth more so than usual, Chipson grabbed onto the rope about two feet above the spot where he was cutting it. He held on for a few seconds, and that was all it took for the rope to break. The rope soundlessly snapped in half, and all at once the cornucopia platform tipped sideways. Harriet and Ishania screamed and flailed their limbs back and forth as they slid downhill. They both rolled straight off and plummeted a stellar distance before landing in the pit of turning sand. Harriet's death was a few moments earlier than Ishania's because of her smaller size.
Harriet Duke, District 3 Female: 3rd, Killed by Chipson, Day 1
Ishania Pendergrass, District 6 Female: 2nd, Killed by Chipson, Day 1
"Chipson Harris of District 3, you are the victor of the ninetieth annual Hunger Games!" Titanus cheered heartily.
Chipson tightened his grip around the rope, and a definite sigh of relief could be heard amidst his gasps of exhaustion.
Chipson Harris, District 3 Male: Victor of the Ninetieth Hunger Games, Day 1
AFTERMATH
Chipson had won the games faster than any other victor in Hunger Games history. Even the fifty-eighth games, which were later revealed to have had a duration of about five hours, were longer by about an hour. Chipson would go down in history as one of the few District 3 tributes to win the games via physical strength rather than technical smarts, so he was certainly an interesting addition to District 3's growing lineup of victors. He would go on to develop an intense phobia of fire due to the events of his games, and he would join the circle of alcoholics that stretched from Haymitch to Router to Poplin. The Capitol would quickly learn to love their newest victor for his charm and his humor, and Chipson did a great job of covering up his inner turmoil whenever he was called to public events and most notably when he was called to mentor.
The payouts on his victory were average, as about 3% bet on him.
His victory tour was pretty great and one of the better ones, with the understandable exception of his stop in District 6.
Chipson would live to age fifty-six, dying from an alcohol overdose three months after the one-hundred thirtieth annual Hunger Games. He would enter two marriages in his lifetime, both of which would fail within twelve months. He would never have children.
NEWS
Chipson moves into the Victor's Village of District 3, across the street from Pixel's home.
Mags Flanagan adopts a girl named Rain.
Surge Upsdell reaches age twelve and moves into the Victor's Village of District 5, next door to Klink.
Olivia Seager, victor of the sixth annual Hunger Games, dies from heart disease.
LIST OF VICTORS
1HG: Cordin Frey (#1, District 3)
2HG: Sapphire Waber (#1, District 1)
3HG: Molly Toliday (#1, District 4)
4HG: Amelia Spangler (#1, District 2)
5HG: Misty Sablone (#1, District 12)
6HG: Olivia Seager (#2, District 2)
7HG: Flux Stafford (#2, District 3)
8HG: Brandi Coyne (#2, District 1)
9HG: Isaac Crandall (#1, District 5)
10HG: Velvet Farrow (#3, District 1)
11HG: Mags Flanagan (#2, District 4)
12HG: Slate Ogston (#3, District 2)
13HG: Woof Dozier (#1, District 8)
14HG: Blaze Skalnik (#4, District 2)
15HG: Dina Wilmarth (#2, District 5)
16HG: Beatrice Toland (#1, District 6)
17HG: Amelia Bankston (#5, District 2)
18HG: Markus Gardd (#2, District 6)
19HG: Odius Ruttler (#6, District 2)
20HG: Seeder Kaiser (#1, District 11)
21HG: Freya Digard (#7, District 2)
22HG: Gold Carson (#4, District 1)
23HG: Ashlyn Breston (#3, District 6)
24HG: Dayta Albrand (#3, District 3)
25HG: Diamond Griego (#5, District 1)
26HG: Thor Rosner (#8, District 2)
27HG: Magnet Lisagor (#4, District 3)
28HG: Maria Dutra (#3, District 4)
29HG: Discordia Komine (#9, District 2)
30HG: Barley Chisolm (#1, District 9)
31HG: Marlin Coppi (#4, District 4)
32HG: Wyatt Kerdler (#5, District 3)
33HG: Molly Soltan (#5, District 4)
34HG: Grover Handa (#1, District 7)
35HG: Troy Stiles (#6, District 4)
36HG: Lana Voltaire (#10, District 2)
37HG: Lucy Said (#7, District 4)
38HG: Porter Tripp (#3, District 5)
39HG: Penelope Turek (#8, District 4)
40HG: Beetee Latier (#6, District 3)
41HG: Radiance Clinton (#6, District 1)
42HG: Technik Hartline (#7, District 3)
43HG: Dylan Levitt (#9, District 4)
44HG: Rye Boyum (#2, District 9)
45HG: Chaff Korsmun (#2, District 11)
46HG: Nolan Wrack (#11, District 2)
47HG: Klink Byrae (#4, District 5)
48HG: Brutus Cordley (#12, District 2)
49HG: Wiress Freid (#8, District 3)
50HG: Haymitch Abernathy (#2, District 12)
51HG: Lyme Mabbett (#13, District 2)
52HG: Ruby Rayfuse (#7, District 1)
53HG: Lily Eckel (#3, District 11)
54HG: Blight Holzer (#2, District 7)
55HG: Emily Pollick (#5, District 5)
56HG: Sally Vasilia (#6, District 5)
57HG: Mason Kittridge (#14, District 2)
58HG: Margaret Cartmill (#1, District 10)
59HG: Tiger Sterne (#8, District 1)
60HG: Cecelia Rieffel (#2, District 8)
61HG: Valerie Easton (#15, District 2)
62HG: Enobaria Rigatti (#16, District 2)
63HG: Gloss Linden (#9, District 1)
64HG: Cashmere Linden (#10, District 1)
65HG: Finnick Odair (#10, District 4)
66HG: Victor Xhang (#17, District 2)
67HG: Augustus Braun (#11, District 1)
68HG: Iuna Mosier (#12, District 1)
69HG: Alexander Westlake (#2, District 10)
70HG: Annie Cresta (#11, District 4)
71HG: Johanna Mason (#3, District 7)
72HG: Remus Daley (#18, District 2)
73HG: Apollo Reinold (#4, District 6)
74HG: Meredith Powell (#4, District 7)
75HG: Struve Lockman (#19, District 2)
76HG: Porcelain Wing (#13, District 1)
77HG: Router Lowell (#9, District 3)
78HG: Surge Upsdell (#7, District 5)
79HG: Kasey Slosser (#5, District 6)
80HG: Tarquinius Orfe (#20, District 2)
81HG: Talisa Plummer (#12, District 4)
82HG: Poplin Amsden (#3, District 8)
83HG: Pixel Watt (#10, District 3)
84HG: Dock Elizabeth (#13, District 4)
85HG: Sycamora Bromley (#5, District 7)
86HG: Bobbin Chern (#4, District 8)
87HG: Organdy Karat (#14, District 1)
88HG: Sickle Salgato (#3, District 9)
89HG: Admired Thompson (#15, District 1)
90HG: Chipson Harris (#11, District 3)
A/N: Given that this is the shortest games in history, I was expecting a 7k-8k word long chapter, so I was surprised by almost 12k words, oh my lord I could not stop writing this one WHAT THE HECK DID I DO?
Those clown mutts will undoubtedly haunt my nightmares now.
All in all, I think this was a pretty solid conclusion to the ninth Hunger Games decade. The fourth Quarter Quell looms on the horizon…
