Hey, i'm back! This is the second EVER CHAPTER that i've written for a site, and i hope you like it. I tryed to add more detail- but, hay-ho, it might not be up to standards.

DISCLAIMER: SUZANNE COLLINS' STORY. Got it?

Without thinking, I sprint off my metal plate, launching myself towards the water and splashing my face with the cool, clear liquid. Hearing footsteps gaining on me, I turn around and punch my attacker square in the jaw, screaming out in pain as my knuckles connect to bone. I pull my hand into my chest, and for the first time I take in my attacker's features. Dark hair, muscular, tall and handsome, with grey eyes and olive skin…

"Gale!"

He wipes away the blood dripping out of his mouth, and gives me a slow, uncertain smile,

"Gee, Catnip. It didn't take you long to turn lethal," he jokes. I look shocked and wrap him in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry! I thought you were one of them," I point my chin to the Careers, just as the last of them dissapear into the forest.

He nods, as if to say, I understand, Katniss. I'm fine. I pull away from him and start towards the opposite end of the arena to where the Careers went to set up some sort of place to stay, no doubt.

"Let's go before one of us is turned into dinner," I say, my voice quivering with fear. The realisation only just hit me that I would be staying here for- a very, very long time. Maybe. If i'm not dead by then.

Over the last couple of years of the Hunger Games, Seneca Crane decided that things ought to hot up. Viewers in the Capitol were getting bored of the same tricks being played again and again; some even stopped watching the games. Apparently they had other, more important things to be doing than following the final moments of 23 tributes, and the breakdown of the winning tribute. So the old unspoken rule of "no cannibalism" was revoked. Just thinking of my family at home, watching me die...then being eaten by a teenager my age makes me feel sick. I won't let this happen.

We walk into the trees, and stay there for what seems to be 5-6 hours. We get up, and walk hand in hand. As Gale and I hike across the arena, we can already see the remains of the intial bloodbath. But this year: it's different. I remember sitting at home with my family and watching as tributes slashed at each other with knives and axes. I recall exactly how deep the knives sunk into the chest of one unfortunate tribute, I remember hearing them scream out in pain; then fall silent. The difference to what I saw on the television ever since I was tiny, and what I see now is appalling.

This tribute has her chest torn open, and she lays in a pool of her own blood. With no weapons this year, this tribute has been...i swallow the thought, but my eyes cannot seem to look away from this girl, who looks barely 14.

"She's been...torn apart- with..."

I finish Gale's unsteady sentence: "Fingernails, Gale. No weapons, we only have what our own body supplies for us. My guess is that she's been torn apart by teeth...or fingernails."

I stumble away from the horror before me and retch up a foul green substance onto the grass, wiping my mouth clean with the back of my hand, I get up, spitting onto the floor repeatidly, trying to rid the bitter taste of vomit out of my throat. My eyes adjust to see Gale reacting in exactly the same way as me, his eyes meeting mine as he wipes his mouth and spits onto the grass- which is dyed scarlet. The brutality of the Hunger Games once again hits me like a bullet.

I divert my eyes away from the bare bodies laying peacefully on the ground, and force myself further away from the Cornicopia, taking Gale with me.

Just as we can no longer see a trace of red under our feet, we hear approaching footsteps. I swiftly turn around and find myself face to face with the devil itself...

So? What'd you think? Who could possibly be the devil?

Might take a while for another update. Just gonna say that i'm not sorry. I'll be having a great time somewhere :P

Review/Add to suncriptions.

Hell, you can do whatever you want with your life.

Megs