Hey! Because very few bloodbath tributes were submitted, I am afraid I've had to choose some to die in the bloodbath, but because I've also tried to stick with the deaths you chose, it's gonna be a pretty spectacular bloodbath. You should have received a PM about Sponsor stuff, but if not, let me know and I'll send it to you ASAP. If you want to buy anything prior to the games e.g. The Map, then just let me know.
Morgead sat on the wet grass, not caring that it was raining. The sky was pitch black and the grass, which had been a vibrant green the day before, was now grey and covered in dew. He hugged his knees closer and shivered with cold. He always reached the stream first. Well, he did it on purpose. They met up at sunrise, not at 3 AM. But Morgead liked sitting there on his own sometimes. It was calming.
The stream he sat beside was a secret; he used to call it the secret stream, because it was entirely hidden from view. It was located at the very bottom of District 6's cemetery, and you had to go through a little path of trees to get to it. Morgead could hear the stream trickling below him; he was sat on the bank above the stream. You had to sit right at the top, or you'd slide in. The stream wasn't too far below, but the bank had eroded over the years so that the way down was pretty steep. Morgead raised his head to see the thick tree branch that hung over the stream. You could walk across it to the other side, if you wanted to avoid soaking your feet in the cold water. But the other side was just stinging nettles and a tall fence that marked the boundaries of District 6. Jez always sat on the branch, sometimes she stood on it, and teased Morgead, but he never went on it. If there was one thing he couldn't do, it was balance on high places
Hours later, Morgead smiled softly when he heard the big, gothic gates that marked the cemetery entrance crash. He even laughed as he heard Jez curse. He stood up and brushed the dirt off his trousers as Jez came into view. She looked scared, but Morgead was too. Jez had fifty tesserae in the bowl this year; she was more likely to be reaped than ever.
Jez scrambled up the steep bank towards Morgead. It wasn't very dignified, but hey, it was better than falling in the stream. Morgead helped her up and hugged her. He could feel her shaking, but he couldn't tell if it was from the cold or fear. He rubbed her arms to warm her up, and she smiled up at him gratefully.
"Thanks. I couldn't pay the gas bills again, even with Helen helping me out. It was freezing last night" Jez confided, with one final shiver.
"Hey, don't worry. It'll be OK" Morgead spoke to her like she was a little kid, but it calmed her slightly. They both knew it was a lie. Maybe they would never get reaped. Maybe together they could become rich enough to pay the gas bills and never let their children have tesserae. But living in District 6 was living in fear and they couldn't escape that.
Six had the harshest peacekeeper force. Morgead could've been put to death hundreds of time's over for breaking curfew, Jezabel could've been beaten a thousand times for carrying and practicing with a weapon, but it was all worth it. Every bit. They just had to be certain that they were never caught.
"You scared?" Jez asked
"Sure as" Morgead replied
"Me too" Jez confessed "I wouldn't last a second in the arena. There are the mutts, and the traps, and the careers…" Jez was almost crying with fear, even though she'd only ever seen it on TV.
"No. No way is that happening" Morgead protested. Jez smiled softly at him.
"It's not like you can stop it"
"But I'll do my best" Jez smiled and kissed him softly.
"You can't do everything Morgead. If I'm reaped, there's nothing you can do, short of volunteering yourself and committing suicide to protect me. But don't get any ideas!" Morgead laughed.
"But you won't get reaped. Is that what you're wearing to the reapings? You look beautiful." Morgead changed the subject. Jez's entire face swept red.
"Yes. We shouldn't linger to long. Helen will be keeping an eye out for me today."
"I'll walk you home. Helen can't complain about that" Morgead said, as he took Jez's arm and helped her down the steepest part of the bank.
Helen was Jez's neighbour. Ever since Jez's family had been hanged, she'd 'kept an eye out', which included paying half the bills, making sure she was home in time for curfew and sharing meals with her.
Morgead walked her right to her door. They took detours just to avoid the peacekeeper patrols, because they would probably be whipped several times just for their suspicious behaviour.
"Thanks" Jez said with a smile. "I guess I'll see you at the reapings" Jez began walking away, but Morgead grabbed her arm.
"One more thing! Can I borrow your knife?" Morgead asked. Jez blinked in surprise.
"Yes…?" She pulled it out of her boot and handed it to him. Morgead gripped the knife and cut off a curly lock of Jez's red hair.
"Just in case I'm reaped" He explained, with a solemn tone to his voice. Jez nodded and smiled sadly. She kissed him one last time before she went into her house and shut the door. Now she just had to wait until the reapings began.
Morgead lived with his dad, and Mr Newman. Mr Newman was crazy, or that's what everybody thought. No-one could remember where he came from, but he'd always been there. Morgead's friends at school always asked him if Mr Newman spoke any prophecies, because there was a rumour that he could see the future.
They hadn't asked Mr Newman to live with them, he'd chosen too. So when Morgead opened the door, and he saw Mr Newman sleeping on the sofa, yelling in his sleep, he wasn't surprised. Mr Newman often yelled in his sleep. This morning it was 'DANGER! DEATH AND DESTRUCTION!' Morgead knew better than to attempt to wake him.
Morgead walked calmly into the corner of the house that was marked as the kitchen, and began making porridge.
Morgead couldn't make porridge for toffee. It was his father who was the amazing cook, but his father was still in bed asleep despite Mr Newman screaming at the top of his lungs. Morgead's dad could sleep through anything.
The end result of the porridge was a bowl full of grey looking lumpy glue. Morgead ate it, not really caring about the mildly burnt taste. He was thinking about Jez. He needed a plan just in case she was reaped. What could he do…?
Toby Blackthorn finally awoke to the sound of Mr Newman screaming in his sleep once again. Death and destruction he said? It was the reaping day for crying out loud!
He pushed aside the curtains that kept his corner private and immediately wished he'd woken sooner. He could smell his son's porridge, and Toby nearly puked with the memory of last time Morgead had made breakfast.
Toby sat down at the table slowly and slid his bowl over to his place. He looked at the bowl and retched. Thankfully his son was too deep in thought to notice. Finally, he decided he would leave it; he could make up an excuse.
Morgead put his coat on. He had a plan now, a plan that would make sure that whatever happened today, or in the next three years, Jez would live a long, happy life. His father was going to walk with him to the square. Mr Newman normally found his way there by himself, so Toby and Morgead weren't worried about that. But there was a general sense of fear, even greater than normal. Peacekeepers patrolled up and down every street, and there were so many surrounding the square that it took both father and son ten minutes to make it through. Morgead guessed they weren't taking any chances. The year before the female tribute had escaped, but had then been shot.
Morgead didn't want to sit, so he stood. Last night already seemed an eternity ago. The sense of peace and happiness that Jezabel always bought with her seemed like a distant memory. All he knew was now, and the fear and worry that came with it. He made sure that he could see Jez from where he was stood. The fear became more and more immediate with every step that their escort, Marcus Lightfoot, took. His name seemed almost funny to Morgead now. Every step thundered through his head, reminding him that in a matter of minutes, Jez could be safe for another year, or she could be stood on that platform with the noose practically around her neck.
And when Marcus called her name, it didn't even seem like a surprise. All he felt was the sadness in his stomach grow. When he volunteered, he held Jez's lock of hair in his fist.
BTW, the stream described is a real place in my village, but there are just fields beyond the fence. And Morgead is very sensible to not go on that branch; I shake like hell whenever I attempt to walk it. And falling in the stream is NOT fun. Neither is telling people there are leaches in it, if you're reading this, Ruby.
And thank you to my last English teacher, Mrs Wyatt, who has rather unfairly decided to retire. The only thing I think I learnt from your lessons last year is that if somebody is found guilty of a crime and their sentence is execution, the word is 'Hanged' not 'Hung'.