Here is part one of two of the Bloodbath! Enjoy!
Dawn Brookeshore, District 4
With my luck, my stylist didn't even show up to send me off into the arena.
So here I was, in the little dressing room, all ready to go and without anyone to talk to. Without anyone to give me last minute advice, without anyone to be a final role model in my life in the real world. This was a repeat of the goodbyes, and frankly I was sick of it.
My dad was doing business. He said he was too busy to even show up the reapings, and he probably doesn't know I'm even here. Maya, my best friend, was probably too ashamed of the fact that she didn't volunteer that she was embarrassed to come visit. So I sat in that lush room all alone, just ike I'm sitting in this plain one.
"Tributes, please enter pods that will lift you to the arena," An electronic voice calls out from an unseen speaker. I look over at the tall glass tube in the corner. Better now than never.
As soon as I step in the glass door closes around me and I'm trapped. The stop my hands from shaking I grab onto the thin wedding band that used to belong to my mother and is now my token. Even though I've never met her, I know she's here with me in spirit.
"Pods will depart in 30 seconds," the voice calls out again. I tighten my pony tail and take a deep breath. Before I know it, the tube is zooming up, up, and away.
I imagine my entire past life, everything I've so steadily held onto, dropping down as I go up. There goes the large and expensive house I grew up in. MY stormy grey eyes, which have always bothered me by being a bit too far apart, fade below as I decide to let go of that insecurity. The guilt I've always felt about my dad's real line of business crashes into the darkness. My longing to know my mother, who died giving birth to me, is gone. My anger at my best friend, who was this year's designated volunteer, hits the ground without a sound. Now it's just me, going up, up and away. I'm a clean slate of a tribute, ready to be painted a whole new person by the games.
And then the glass around me stops moving. I continue traveling up, but only for a few feet until I read ground level. I'm not blinded by the light, as you can often see tributes are when they reach the arena. It's not dark though: The air around me is sticky and hot, and below my platform is a ground of tan sand. The tributes are arranged in a circle, around the edge of a great red and white tent. In the middle sits three small and colorful cornucopias.
And so the countdown began. A million thoughts were racing trough my head as the numbers got closer and closer to zero, but I couldn't pinpoint any single one. All I knew was I had to make it through this one day, this one event, alive.
"Three… Two… ONE!" And so it began. I dashed off my pad to where Gypsy and Scott, my allies, were standing.
"Each us take one cornucopia. GO!" Scott yelled briefly, and I dashed off in the opposite direction of the other two. Mine ended up being surrounded by food and water.
Because all the weapons were in one area, there wasn't very much fighting over on my side of the tent. Scott was in the thick of it though, and I grabbed four large clear backpacks before going over to help him out. Gypsy's cornucopia was survival supplies, so she was taking her time getting the best pick of good stuff. I figured I'd grab a knife and then go over to keep lookout for her.
Scott already seemed pretty at ease with killing. The way he plunged a long thin knife into the heart of the District 3 boy almost scared me, and as the boy's limp body fell to the ground he didn't even turn to look and make sure he was dead. He was completely aware of what he had done.
The boy from one just as casually threw a spear into the heart of the girl from twelve, and her body fell to the ground lifelessly. He didn't even take care as he stomped right over her often disgruntled face.
I briefly grappled with the career girl from two, Magenta, over the knife I wanted, but she got distracted by a shinier and longer one on the other side of the cornucopia and let me go. As soon as it was fully in my hands, I made a dash for it.
"You ok?" I panted as I stepped up towards Gypsy, who had her arms full of sleeping bags and other gear.
"I think we should go." She turned towards me, and then called out Scott's name. He came dashing over.
"You guys think we have enough?" He had a quiver of arrows and a bow slung over his shoulder as well as an axe and a sword hanging from each of his hands. With my knife, we were certainly going to be well protected.
"Let's go." I turn one final time to look at the bloody scene behind us. I can make out at least three bodies, each people now stripped of their lives. It's sad, but it's the games, and I'm stuck living with it weather I like it or not. This thought cycles through my head as we slip out the tent flap and into the humid air.
Marcas Mac Phaidin, District 12
The last thing I see of my stylist is her excitedly waving as I zoom up into the arena. She probably is rushing to find the nearest TV, n order to see the bloodbath I'm about to enter right as it happens. After all, what's more exciting than watching children heartlessly murder each other?
I pass up into the Arena before I know it. Looking around and taking in my settings, I see a theme begin to emerge. The big striped tent that envelops the tributes, the three rings containing cornucopias full of useful objects. Here we are in a life or death situation, and it's a circus. An ancient form of entertainment.
Of course I've never actually seen a circus. Those kinds of exciting things don't happen in district 12, in the seam where I grew up or in the marketplace where I've lived with my uncle for the past couple of years. We just don't have time for that kind of entertainment.
I did however see a capitol documentary about the big top a couple years ago when I was home sick one day. It explained how the people before the dark ages would spend a whole day laughing at ridiculous stunts preformed by clowns, or being grotesquely hypnotized by freaks of nature. It seems strange, which is why I guess it's the perfect idea for a Hunger Games arena.
"ONE!" I wasn't even paying attention to the countdown, but here we go. I leap off my pedestal and straight into the thick of the closest cornucopia. Of course it happens to be the most popular one, weapons. I reach out to grab an axe that's lying at my feet, but someone else has already got the handle, so I step on the blade. The other tribute continues to yank on the handle, and the sheer force of having it ripped from under my feet knock me to the ground. Now he's standing over me. Now I'm going to die.
The tribute in question happens to be the boy from district two. I'm muscular, but he's huge compared to me. His figure, looming over me in the afternoon light is absolutely terrifying. With one swift blow he brings the axe down across my neck.
The funny thing about having your head cut off is that thoughts still continue for a little, even though you're completely severed. Of course no one would ever know about this, seeing as everyone who is beheaded isn't exactly around to talk about it. These are the last thoughts racing through my head.
i didn't think about my sister. Nor how long it took me to become happy with my life, or if it really even mattered in the end. Because apparently it didn't. apparently my last gift to the world was a pretty show that I didn't even want to be a part of.
Three already dead! Here is the list, which will now be at the end of every chapter:
Voltaic Nosa, District 3
Zella Nightblade, Disrict 12
Marcas Mac Phaiden, District 12
Ok so I want to make this clear: just because I kill your tribute does not mean I don't like them or you. 23 tributes will die, so it's less than likely that yours will be the final tvictor. I kill when it makes sense, if it fits in with the story and so on. So sorry if your tribute dies, but please don't just whine and cry in the reveiws. Remember that I'm trying to fit 24 well developed characters into one story, and it's impossible to please everyone. You can in fact enjoy the WHOLE story, not just the parts that are all about you.
Done with my rant :) Anyways please do remember to reveiw and VOTE IN THE CONTEST! Seriously, we don't have enough votes. Remember their was an addition to the rules, that can be veiwed on the previous chapter, or my profile. So go reveiw and vote!
-Zinky