Raised to Fight, Born to Die: The District 2 Tributes
To start, I am SO SORRY I haven't been on Fanfiction for nearly two months. A lot of people have been asking me if I'll update soon, if I abandoned my stories, etc. and just to let you guys know, I have not abandoned my stories. I just haven't had the time to really sit down and write chapters, and the few times I had time to do so, I had no inspiration whatsoever. I've been super busy with school, sports and the holidays, of course.
Thanks for all the reviews and feedback. And for those of you asking, yes this is one of the last few chapters…if anything I'll post up to Chapter 13 or maybe even 14, and then Raised to Fight, Born to Die will be done! I don't want to end it, but at the same time I really want to move on and work on some other stories.
Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!
(Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or its characters.)
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Chapter 11: Sword Beats Rock
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Cato
"Clove!"
I run toward her, still holding my spear, and kneel by her side. In my peripheral vision I see Katniss running toward the forest, looking back at us as she runs. But I don't care about her right now. Clove is the only thing on my mind.
And I can already tell she's done for.
"Clove, stay with me, okay?" I say, desperate. I hear my voice shaking, and I clear my throat to show her I'm not scared. "You know you can! Don't leave. Stay with me."
She can't talk. She's either in too much pain or her skull is too damaged for her to think properly anymore. Her eyes can't even focus on me for more than a few seconds. My heart plummets into something deep and dark as I realize I can't save her. This is it.
"Clove," I say, desperate. Dammit! This wasn't supposed to happen! We were supposed to win together and go back home as victors, back to District Two! Everything has gone wrong. And I can't fix it.
I've failed her. I've failed Clove. "Clove," I mutter. But it's a lost cause. But I can't stop whispering her name.
I lay there like some hopeless idiot, begging her to stay with me, not giving a care to what was around me, if Thresh comes back, is Katniss is still around, if Finch is long gone. I can't bring myself to care.
I love you, Clove. I want to say it so badly. Just four little words. But I know I can't, not with the cameras that are surely recording this crucial moment in the Games. You can't love someone in the arena. Even with the rule change, it's every man for himself. To want someone else to win was…wrong. You're supposed to want to kill your opponent, not fall in love with them.
What pains me the most is that Clove doesn't know. She doesn't know I love her. And I won't ever know if she feels the same way.
"Please, Clove. Please." My voice sounds different now. It sounds like a voice pierced with grief. A voice with no hope. Definitely not the voice of a Career.
Clove's hand I was holding is already slack, so I have to lean to her chest to see if she's still there.
I listen.
And I hear nothing.
She's gone.
~*~*~X~*~*~
I jump up, a howl of rage escaping my mouth. I'm going to kill Thresh. I'm going to make it slow and brutal, to make him regret he ever killed my district partner. Not that I would have killed him any different otherwise. After all, I am a Career. And this is the Hunger Games.
I don't really hear Clove's cannon sound. My mind is too busy reeling on what to do next. I can't linger on Clove's death; it would only slow me down and make me weak. Clove would lose any respect she had for me if I let her death get to me.
I just know I have to find Thresh. And Katniss. Wherever the Girl on Fire is, hell, she's screwed. She's got one of the most dangerous people in the arena out for her blood, not to mention she's tied down to a greatly injured Peeta, whom she has to protect as well as defend herself at the same time.
I don't know if Katniss got her pack from the feast. Thresh might have it. Or Finch-
My thoughts freeze. The feast. The backpack for District Two.
My head whips toward the entrance to the Cornucopia.
There are no packs left.
Thresh. It has to be. Finch isn't strong enough to defend herself if I come after her looking for my pack, so she wouldn't have stolen it. She's smarter than that.
Katniss can't afford to have me going after her. She might not have even gotten her own pack.
That leaves Thresh. His bloody death is my next move.
I set off, grim determination rolling off me in waves.
No matter what, I know the drive to win is still inside me. No matter how much I want to run back to the place Clove died, willing her to come back, no matter how much I don't want to win without her, I still have to win. I have to be the victor for her. Her and District Two.
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I spend the rest of the day and almost the whole night trying to track Thresh. No doubt he's in his little field, so that's where I go. Plus, a thunderstorm has been forming throughout the day; thankfully, my sponsors finally decide to send me a gift. I open the silver box attached to the matching parachute to find a thick rain jacket designed to keep heat in.
When I get to the edge, I'm starving. I realize I haven't had anything to eat since before Clove was still around, and I'm starting to feel a little…slower. Slower than usual. I can't fight Thresh like this. My stomach growls in agreement.
I squint at the grains in the dark. I can't see properly, and even if I could, I wouldn't be able to tell is these grasses were edible. Damn it, I think. Those supplies weren't supposed to be blown up. I feel another wave of hatred for the girl from Twelve as I pick some grasses and stick the ends of them in my mouth. Something to chew on until I find real food.
I dig through my backpack. I fish out my water bottle and drink the two sips left inside. I tie up my two leftover spears to my backpack with the rope I salvage from the silver parachute. Then I look out into the field.
I wonder what's in there. There could be anything, really – muttations, for sure. Not to mention quicksand, and Thresh himself. No time to underestimate his skills here. He probably knows these fields well, coming from the district of agriculture. He's at the advantage.
I hear a clunk behind me. Not from another tribute, or anything else living. I turn to see my sponsors are being especially generous today; I open the box from the parachute and whisper a "Finally, Brutus," knowing the food inside was his idea. The jacket was probably Avena. I mentally thank them both as I dig into a mini feast of bread, cheese, grapes and water. My stomach is silent with contentment.
I decide to find a place to sleep until morning. I figure the Capitol's got enough to film with Katniss and Lover Boy struggling to save his life, so I can afford to wait a little. After I take care of Thresh, I'll go after them. Unless Finch decides to show her self. Not likely though.
~*~*~X~*~*~
I open my eyes to grey clouds. It's starting to rain again. It's probably morning now, so I sit up and look around.
That's when I see yet another silver parachute lying about ten feet away. I walk toward it and open the box to find a pair of heavy-duty boots. I wonder how they are any better than the ones I have now.
I put them on. After all, I got them at this moment for a reason. I toss my old shoes into a nearby bush and stash the parachute there as well. Don't want Finch on my tracks.
I walk toward the field and put my backpack on. After taking a gulp of water, knowing I can now count on my sponsors to refill it, I walk into the tall grass.
I take out my sword and put two knives into my belt loop. I move slowly and quietly, not wanting to give away my exact location to anyone, or anything, nearby.
I hear hissing. I whip around. I look through the grass in all directions. Then I loon down to see a snake biting into my boot, when I don't feel anything at all. Good thing I decided to put my new boots on. I shake my foot, making the snake practically jump away, and it slithers off into the tall grass.
I continue cautiously. I think I hear a rustling to my right, but I look and there's nothing there.
After what seems like an eternity, I finally sit down and take two huge gulps of water. I open my backpack and eat all the food I have left. "I need strength," I say, hoping to catch my mentors' attention. Mission accomplished.
I open the silver bag that floats down to the ground to find roasted chicken with slices of about ten different fruits, plus roasted potatoes. I eat some sliced apples and a chicken wing and wrap up the rest for later. I set off again.
It's raining hard now. I hear claps of thunder and see bolts of lightning hit in the distance. I put don't put my hood up though, because it'll cut off my peripheral vision. I want to be able to see all around me if I have to.
All of a sudden, my foot sinks into the ground when I step. I try to yank it out, but my foot only goes deeper so the ground is up to my ankle.
Dammit. I've run into quicksand.
I have no idea how to get my foot free. My first instinct is to yank my foot out, but I've been doing that, and the sand is up to my knee now. I grab a handful of strong grasses nearby and hold on for leverage. Since moving didn't work, maybe staying still might.
I don't have the patience for this. If Thresh comes now, I'll be a sitting duck.
~*~*~X~*~*~
I look up into the sky. The sun's moved, and guessing from its position I guess it is around four o'clock.
I've been sitting here for about three hours. I slowly lift my foot from the quicksand, and I don't get a fight. The sand on my leg quickly gets washed away by the heavy rain, and I get up, pack my bags, pick up my sword, and look around me.
Ahead of me, I see nothing.
Behind me, I see…something. In the distance. Through the grass.
I squint my eyes for better vision.
It's Thresh.
I charge forward, sword handy. Thresh charges forward, too. When we are about ten feet away from each other, the dark figure jumps.
I jump too.
Then our bodies collide, and that is when I realize the figure isn't Thresh. It's…something else entirely.
I stab my sword into its leg, and the creature howls in pain. It turns its head toward me and growls, its red liquid eyes almost glowing.
I drop my backpack and it opens, spears coming loose from the rope and my water bottle rolling out.
I've seen this mutt in other Games before. People call it a morticanus, which apparently means something close to "deadly dog" in some ancient language. In Components class back home where we study what Gamemakers put in the Games to change odds, I learned that the morticanus was modeled after a wolf and a rare species of animal called a hyena. The Capitol programmed them to be more deadly and have an unquenchable thirst for human blood. That's why their eyes are red. Their claws are sharper, and their teeth contain venom that weakens you to the touch; once you come in contact with the venom, you get strong hallucinations and you're basically guaranteed a slow, torturous death.
I can't let that thing bite me.
The dog kicks me and I fly backward into mud. Then it turns and charges at me again and right before it hits me I realize it isn't running on its right hind leg – the leg I stabbed with my sword.
I try to hit its other hind leg. Maybe I can cripple it enough to slow it down and I'll have a better chance at killing it.
But I don't get the chance. The thing pounces on me and I grab a fallen spear and hold it against the dog, its jaws clamping on my weapon. I push with all my strength, but the dog is stronger. I'm losing.
"You can't lose, Cato!"
I almost drop the spear. The dog growls and screams, saliva dripping onto my left shoulder. It's on top of me now.
Clove. Clove's here. She's come to win with me.
"Don't let that thing kill you," she warns. "You can't come this far and die on me, Cato!"
My mind is spinning so fast my head starts to hurt. How can she be here? She's dead!
"Cato! Don't just sit there!"
The dog pushes harder, claws digging into my skin.
"Clove!" I yell, my voice dying out in a clap of thunder. Drops of rain feel like drops of acid when they hit my face. Where is she?
"Kill it, Cato! Just kill it, Cato!"
Kill it. I can do that. I look up at the morticanus, its bloodthirsty mouth inches away from mine, and only a single thought crosses my mind.
I will not die today.
I push the dog off me with my spear in a burst of strength. My back hurts from being shoved into the ground, but it doesn't slow me down much. The dog recovers quickly and lunges at me again, but instead of getting me it snaps my spear in half, a few splinters of wood raining to the ground with the rain.
I jump at the dog with nothing left. There's no use running.
"You're almost there, Cato!"
My mind clings on to Clove's words as if they are my only lifeline. I lunge at the dog one last time, my hands going toward its throat. We both crash to the ground as I choke the thing. It growls and fights and whines, but I'm on top of it, my right leg putting weight on the dog's injured leg, keeping it from getting up. We stay like that for what seems like forever, but then the dog slowly stops moving and I slowly get off it. It's dead.
"I did it," I say. I look around, but Clove is nowhere is sight. "Clove!" I call out.
I whip around multiple times, looking in every direction. "Clove, dammit! Where are you?!"
She's not here.
Because she's dead.
I must have imagined it. Hearing her voice. Her calling out my name. She's nowhere to be seen, and all I can think about is how I got my hopes up for nothing.
~*~*~X~*~*~
Thresh
"Clove!"
Thresh's head snaps around toward the voice. It was a boy's voice, and Thresh very much doubted the boy from Twelve would be all the way out here on this side of the arena, so he guessed Cato was paying him a visit.
"Clove, dammit, where are you?"
But Clove is dead. Thresh knows it. Thresh is the one who killed her.
Thresh grabs his sickle from the ground and he exams its long curved blade.
His mind races. Cato is a Career. A Career with plenty weapons, food, sponsors, and worse of all, odds. At first glance, Cato has the greater advantage of the two, but then again, the boy from Two can't be in that great a mental state if he's yelling for his dead district partner while out hunting the next biggest threat to his win.
He thinks of what he found in District Two's backpack from the feast. Plenty of food to last for days, maybe a week, plus iodine and tracker jacker antidote cream. That means Cato must have tracker jacker venom in his system, unless the medicine was meant for Clove. Judging from the huge amount of food in the backpack, District Two's tributes were probably starving at the time of the feast, but if Cato's still alive now, surely he'd gotten something from his sponsors to keep him alive.
Stop, Thresh thinks. You're overanalyzing this. Just get it done with.
At the beginning of the Games, Thresh knew he would die.
When his district partner, Rue, was murdered, he knew he would die, but he would try his best for Rue and District Eleven anyway. He had motivation.
Now, though? He has a sliver of a chance. But it is a real chance all the while. And Thresh isn't about to let his only chance at life slip away.
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Cato
Someone comes crashing through the grass from the east. For one, sickeningly crazy moment I think it might be Clove, but she's long gone. That leaves Thresh.
The rain is pounding now harder than ever. Thunder and lightening don't let up.
Thresh is getting closer. He's running.
I pick hide my spears behind a thick clump of tall grass and pick up my sword.
But now he's slowing down.
When he gets to the clearing my fight with the morticanus made, he stops completely. "Cato," he grumbles.
I nod at him. "Thresh."
He gives me this look, like he's…unsure. Or disbelieving. "Why were you calling for the girl," he says slowly, as if he senses this is dangerous ground.
"None of your business," I snarl, suddenly angry.
He doesn't say anything. I don't either. We both look at each other, staring each other down, seeing if either will give up.
Finally I am too impatient. I charge straight toward him. He sticks out his sickle but I dodge his attack and retaliate by slashing my sword. He jumps back, and throws a punch, but I duck. I aim a roundhouse kick into his stomach and he doubles over, wheezing as the breath gets knocked out of him.
I punch him again. I don't stab him while he's down because I want this to be a fair fight. I want to win by pure skill, not by odds.
He recovers quicker this time. But instead of punching me, he brings two fingers to his mouth and whistles. Loudly. The kind of whistle that echoes all around.
My head snaps in every direction, trying to see what the purpose of it was. Far away to my left, I see the grasses moving and rustling. Something is headed our way.
Thresh backpedals into the grass, hidden.
I brace myself, feet apart, sword pointed forward.
Well, would you guess what jumps out?
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The morticanus almost barrels me to the ground, but at the last second I turn sideways and bring down my sword into its back. The thing howls, and its head snaps back to bite me, but I back up quickly, narrowly avoiding a mouthful of needle-sharp teeth.
Somehow, the thing is still alive. Did Thresh summon it? How did he befriend the thing? Or maybe the dog is just attracted to noise of something. That would explain why Thresh hid in the grass when it came. Maybe, if I could find a way to distract the dog long enough for me to draw Thresh out of his hiding space I'll find my answer.
I look around, my eyes darting everywhere while the dog recovers from its possibly fatal wound. I have to find a way to kill that thing, or find a way to bring Thresh out.
My eyes rest of the dead morticanus I killed not half an hour earlier. Its teeth are full of poisonous fluid. The dog bites its prey to inject venom, but if the dog gets the venom in its own system? Maybe the creature isn't immune.
I jump toward the dead mutt. I pry its mouth open and yank out two fist-sized teeth from its upper jaw.
But when I turn the teeth are knocked out of my hand. Thresh has caught on to my plan. He shoves me into the ground and I lose my sword. I swing my right foot to trip him, and when he jumps to avoid the swing he barely keeps his balance. I scramble for the teeth and slip on the wet ground, but I still pick them up. I turn and run past Thresh, toward the now growling dog. It growls and I jump without thinking, a ferocious roar escaping my mouth. I land on the thing's bloody back and stab a tooth into its body, and the dog howls and howls so loud my ears start to hurt.
It shakes me off it. Then it runs away, deep into the forest of tall grass.
I get up, some of my muscles hurting a bit. I see Thresh has a tooth too, copying my idea. His weapon is nowhere to be seen, and mine is half-buried in mud. We're both almost completely evenly-matched now. Except for the fact that I've been practicing all my life.
I run forward with a grunt.
Thresh charges too.
He grabs my arm.
I grab his shoulder.
And we fight. For the last time.
~*~*~X~*~*~
Thresh
Thresh already knows he's done for.
His neck is bleeding deeply from Cato's sword, and he has morticanus venom in his system from when Cato stabbed him with a tooth.
But he still fights. He won't fall without a fight. If anything, he can still injure Cato and give District Twelve another step towards victory.
The Hunger Games. Thresh knew this wasn't just an ordinary game. It was much more than that, but Thresh couldn't figure out just what. Rue definitely had no idea. He didn't know if the Fire Girl knows either, but he has a feeling she does. She is smart. She can figure it out. Maybe, just maybe, Thresh can do some damage to the blond boy before he kills Thresh to help the Fire Girl win. She deserves it. And she tried to save little Rue.
Rue. Sweet, kind Rue, who was murdered under such brutal circumstances. He had never met Rue before the reaping, and he didn't always get along with her, but to Thresh, she reminded him of the few good things left in this cruel and tainted world. From the flowers that bloom in the fields during spring to the graceful black-and-white mockingjays she loved so much back home, to the breathtaking purple and pink skies Thresh looks out into every day at sunset. The only things he can enjoy in the harsh life of living in District Eleven.
Thresh played these three images in his mind, on an endless loop.
Even though it was so harsh, Thresh was grateful for the few things he had. He had always looked forward to reporting for work in the fields every morning because it was his only escape, the only time he could feel at least a little separated from the prying eyes of the Capitol. The only time he felt calm. The only time he could be himself. Deep in the fields.
Now though, the fields are a place of death. Here, in the fields, Cato strikes him; The fields aren't a place of peace anymore. The Hunger Games have ruined even that for Thresh as well.
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Again, I'm sorry for not updating in so long! Hopefully I'll get to the next chapter soon. Please R tell me what you thought of this chapter! I hope you liked the parts in Thresh's pov, I kinda added that at the last second.
As for the mutt I made up...it was a weird name, I know. I basically just went to Google Translate in Latin and mixed up words like "death" or "dangerous" trying to think up a unique name. It wasn't one of the best moments on this chapter to me, haha. Thanks for reading and being so patient with me, be on the lookout for another chapter coming later on. Thanks!
P.S. - If this story gets at least 55 reviews (it has 41 now) by the time I add Chapter 13 I'll update a special "bonus", if you'd like to call it, chapter where I publish the complete detailed backstories I made for both Cato and Clove. So spread the word and enjoy!
