Dear Readers,

So I'm sorry it took me so long to update I was just stumped and didn't really feel like writing the chapter leading up to the games so I started working on some other stuff. But I finally finished it, despite much procrastination. Sorry it's so short, also, but I felt like the actual beginning of the games, like the bloodbath scene, needed to be it's own chapter. I hope you enjoy.

Also;

PropertyOfMe95:I have to agree with you, and I'm glad you like it because I work really hard to attempt and portray them in a believable way. Thanks so much!

thefanfictiongirl:I'm really glad you enjoy my portrayal! I like Marvel too, I wasn't sure if I would but he kind of wrote himself in a way and turned out being awesome if that makes any sense. did you enjoy the interview scene and their reactions? I hope you keep reading and enjoy!

Thanks so much to all! Especially to inluv4eva, who is reviewing some of my scenes for me so I can make sure I keep capturing Cato and Clove correctly and basically for just reassuring me on my writing of them! You're awesome!

Enjoy!

Clove and Cato were standing face to face in the clearing of a forest. Clove didn't remember how they had gotten there, but she instantly knew something was wrong. He was too wrecked, almost devastated, for this to be a good thing. Her instincts were telling her that she was in serious danger. She knew she should be running from him or fighting for her life right now but she stayed rooted to the spot in which she stood, staring back at Cato. She was as stuck physically as she was mentally; she knew she could never escape Cato. He was her biggest downfall. It made her weak. But she couldn't afford to be weak.

She suddenly struck out with her knife against him; he grabbed her by the wrist before she could make contact. He squeezed her wrist so hard that her hand involuntarily loosened on the weapon and dropped it.

She tried to punch him with her other hand, but he had been expecting that; he had ducked the punch and then rammed her in the stomach with his shoulder, smashing her into a tree. She had gotten the breath knocked out of her but she managed to recover quickly enough to duck out of Cato's grip and get away from the tree so as to not be cornered.

"Clove, wait!" She forced herself to take a step backwards anyways. As soon as her foot hit the ground, Cato's eyes were full of alarm. He grabbed her tightly by her arms. She tried to push away from him, but he was holding her too tight.

He then slid his hand up to the back of her neck, pulling her head towards his, resting his forehead against her. He was breathing heavy, eyes closed. She closed her eyes too, reveling in the moment. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Clove asked automatically, knowing she did not really want to know the answer.

"This." Suddenly she felt him shift and then she felt a intense pain unlike any other in her stomach. She was so shocked she couldn't even manage a scream. Her eyes flew open, looking down. He had run her completely through with his sword. She looked back up in his eyes and saw nothing. She felt her body going numb, and then she was falling and screaming into the black.

Clove woke up screaming, thrashing in her bed. Someone was holding her tight saying, "Clove! Clove, it's okay! You're fine." Clove looked up at Cato's face, breathing heavy. Her hair clung to her face in sweat, and he pushed it back out of her face. She pulled out of his arms, turning over to face away from him as she tried to make sense of what just happened. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine." She said. He had not stabbed her, she was not dead, they were in a room in the Capitol... and today was the day they entered the Arena. Somehow, Clove had the thought that the fact that the day she had been waiting for, training for, her entire life was here would make her feel better. It didn't. Today was the Hunger Games. She couldn't even believe it. Her dream had soured her excitement, but she was still able to get a bit excited. They would be escorted to be prepared in less than an hour.

"They're back." Cato finally said. "It's been so long since you have had one... I thought they wouldn't come back." Clove used to have terrible nightmares about death and decay, violence an pain. It seemed to be just a normal case of night terrors or nightmares or whatever, but Clove knew in reality that it was so much worse than that. The part that really got to Clove is that she, while terrified, also was usually excited during these nightmares; she got some sort of sick, twisted pleasure. She was having these dreams before she even entered the Academy. That was the point when Clove realized she was not normal and might even be a bit psycho. She had only been five then.

"Me neither." Clove said flatly. When Cato and her started sleeping together the nightmares continued, and he learned quickly that this was just the natural order of things. But she had been having less after about six months of him sleeping beside her and she had not actually had one for almost the entire past year. Until now.

He paused, and then asked, "What was this one about?"

Clove tried not to react. "The usual. Blood, lots of blood." She said, shivering at the recollection of how there had been an immense amount of her own blood at his hands. She didn't elaborate and he didn't ask her about it any further, which relieved Clove. This wasn't her usual type of nightmare; she had never dreamt about Cato actually killing her. Sure she had dreamt of killing him during the time period when she loathed him, and had dreamed about them torturing each other but in enjoyable yet sick ways. But she had never had a nightmare about her actual death before, much less at Cato's hands. It had thrown her off, and with the Games being literally hours away, Clove couldn't afford to be thrown. Her life's dream was in reach, and Cato (although not purposely) was once again in her way. But she almost didn't want him to move.

Finally, their stylists (Cicero and the lady who styles Cato, Clove couldn't really remember her name) came to the room and gave them each a simple shift to put on. They then excused themselves for a few moments so they could get dressed, but it was really so they could say goodbye.

Clove was already completely stripped down before she said, "Cato, I don't really want to kill you... but I want this." Clove said, referring to the games. "I really, really want this."

Cato didn't say anything. He just came up behind her, already naked himself. Their hands roamed each others' bodies as if to memorize every inch of each other. Cato grabbed her by the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. In no time Cato was slamming Clove, whose legs were locked around his waist, against the wall. He fucked her up against the wall and she rode every last second of the waves of pleasure she felt. They both were screaming as the came at the same time, not even caring if anyone heard. Cato, still inside her, looked her in the eyes and said. "Clove, I hope you know by now that killing you is the last thing I want to do... but I want this just as badly."

Clove nodded and then he pulled out of her and then they slid on their slips in silence. He turned to leave, and she said, "And Cato..." He turned to face her. "May the odds be ever in your favor." She said with a smirk.

He smirked back, cupping her face in his hands, kissing her lightly on the lips. "May the odds be ever in your favor." He repeated back to her. Then he was gone.

Clove lingered for a moment, not even sure if she could actually believe all this was happening. She was going into the Hunger Games, and she could not have more of an adrenaline rush going at the moment.

She exited her room and followed Cicero to the roof. A hovercraft was there when they arrived. The final preparations begin in a sort of maze of underground rooms under the actual arena. A ladder to the hovercraft was lowered for her, and as soon as Clove touched the ladder, she was stuck to it. There was a current that kept her on the ladder until she was in the hovercraft.

As soon as she was inside, before she was even released, a nurse came in with a syringe. She informed Clove it was her tracker- which meant that the Gamemakers would know where she was at all times. Clove barely feels the stab of the needle. Clove was not really a baby for pain. When she was done, Clove felt the ladder release her. Cicero then joined her in the hovercraft.

Clove and Cicero followed an Avox to a room where there was a bunch of food laid out. Clove was almost too excited to eat but she immediately grabbed some food and forced it down. She didn't want to be distracted by feeling starved in the arena, especially with the initial bloodbath that would occur. She did however, only eat healthy food because she did not want to feel sluggish.

About thirty minutes into the plane ride, Clove noticed the windows had suddenly been blacked out. She got even more excited because she knew that meant they were getting close to the arena.

Once the hovercraft lands, Clove and Cicero went down a ladder, into a tube, and underground. They went through a maze of tunnels before finally arriving in the Launch room; the place where she would be prepared for the games.

Cicero instructs Clove to strip and shower, so she does. This will be her last shower for a while she knows, so she takes as long as Cicero will allow. Then she brushes her teeth.

Cicero pulls her hair up into a ponytail. Clove moves her head side to side and then frowns. "What's wrong?" Cicero asked.

"I know it sounds crazy but it's the ponytail; it's distracting because the hair hits my face and I can hear it moving." She explained.

"Not crazy; I don't want you to be off your game." He looked at her hair and then looked like a lightbulb went off in his head. "Hold on." He took her ponytail and segmented it by putting ponytail holders around it every inch or so. "Try now." It held the hair back a little more; enough to keep it out of her face.

"Good." Clove nodded. Then Cicero receives the package with her arena clothes and opens it. Clove could barely contain her excitement at this point. Cicero helps her dress. She puts on a pair of undergarments first and then Cicero helps her pull on the rest of her clothes; first there's a pair of simple brown pants, then a red shirt, a brown belt, and then a thin dark red jacket which Cicero explains is designed to reflect body heat. She then pulls on a pair of soft, brown, leather boots over skintight socks.

"Let me look at you." Cicero said when they were finished. She stood with her chin up and he smiled. "You're ready. How do you feel?"

"I feel so excited that I'm gonna explode if I don't get into the arena soon." Clove told him.

He shook his head. "You are by far the strangest tribute I have ever styled; but that's a good thing." He added. "But unfortunately we just have to wait until they call."

Clove ended up pacing before too long; she couldn't sit still. She just wanted to get in the arena, get her hands on a knife, and do some damage.

When they finally announced it was time to prepare for launch, Clove grinned as she moved over to the circular metal plate. Cicero came to stand in front of her. "You know, I really do hope you win. You'd make a fine victor."

"I know." Clove grinned. Then she suddenly felt the need to say something nice to the man she had come to have some respect for. "Out of all the stylists I could have had, you weren't so bad."

"Since I know that's your way of giving a compliment, I have to say thanks." Clove grinned wider. He really wasn't so bad.

Then she was encased by a glass cylinder. Then Clove began to rise until she couldn't see Cicero anymore. Then she was surrounded by darkness. Her heart was beating extremely fast as her excitement began peaking. Then she was out of the tunnel and brightness surrounded her and she had to wait a few moments for her eyes to really adjust to her surroundings.

"Ladies and gentleman, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"