The Sound and the Fury - The 325th Hunger Games Chapter 1: The Quarter Quell Museum, a hunger games fanfic

A/N: Hi all! My name is Cjborange, and I'm best known as the author of 23 Cannons, one of the longest Hunger Games fanfics of all time with nearly a million words. I've also written two SYOTs before, and now I've decided to try my hand at another!

This is the 325th Hunger Games, and as this year's twist the age range has been extended from 5 to 25. More details are contained within this prologue and on my profile (where the SYOT form is located). I hope to both reconnect with old readers and gain new friends through this project!

I've gone way overboard and prepared FIVE prologues for this story. They'll serve to explain the background of the story and sort of help you catch up to goings-on in Panem over the last few centuries. The important details and changes are on my profile as well.

Thanks for reading and considering, and I hope you enjoy the first of the five prologues! See you again soon!

-Cjborange

PROLOGUE ONE: "THE QUARTER QUELL MUSEUM"

TIME: 2:34 PM, 7 June 325HG

Scene: a broad marble building with only ten floors, hidden deep in the heart of the metropolitan candy Capitol where even the brightest sunlight cannot reach. A sign above the door reads, in elaborately worked gold lettering:

THE QUARTER QUELL MUSEUM.

Cast of characters: a group of tightly packed children in plain white clothing, their faces dark and cloaked in shadow. Each individual child casts a long, winding shadow over the floor, bunched together among others like the silhouettes of mourners gathered at the bedside of a dying man. Consider their disposition, if you will. Their eyes are wide and wanting. They tell us much about ourselves.

They are clearly waiting for something. We can tell by the way they are packed tightly together, as though waiting on the drop of a dime for some great revelation, some great beacon of light. Then a light creaking noise fills the room, and the children fall silent at once. The willowy woman pushes open the door, slowly and ominously flooding the chamber with her shadow.

Every one of the eight thousand four hundred and sixteen clocks in the Capitol strikes three at that very moment. She always switches rooms at the changing of the hour. She made a habit of it years ago and finds it to be a rather effective strategy for commanding the attention of those without the luxury of virtually endless time. This woman is the Hunger Games head gamemaker. Her name is Calypso Alexus.

"Good afternoon, children," she booms. The braver children nod. The more timid can do nothing but stand in silence. "Today, you have each been granted the incredible privilege of exploring the Quarter Quell museum, which tells the history of both the Hunger Games and Panem itself. I hope you've all brought your notebooks."

All of them have. Each child whips out a pad of paper and a little blue pen. It is a privilege, each of them knows, to hear the words of Calypso Alexus and to write them down. Straight from the horse's mouth onto the paper. It is the most beautiful thing any of them can imagine.

"Please follow me," Calypso barks, sounding anything but comforting. She is flanked by two peacekeepers on either side. The children can almost feel the cameras trained on the backs of their necks as they walk. Not that it is bothersome. They are used to surveillance by this point.

They are led through a small, shadowy doorway into the first chamber. There are thirteen of these rooms, triangle-shaped and lined end-to-end like a row of scales on a snake. Each room is dedicated to one of the Quarter Quells and contains many artifacts from that year's games, the most grand of which is the original envelope and slip of paper that revealed that year's twist to the nation.

Calpyso comes to a sudden stop. Anyone moving immediately stops with her.

"First things first," she announces, "And, indeed, here we come to the first Quarter Quell. That year, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it."

Nobody seems particularly impressed by this. They have seen the most of this Quell, the most of its twists and turns. It is hard for them to image, hard for them even to comprehend how Panem used to be – back when only three districts provided career tributes, back before the destruction of District 12. Before anyone knew how long the Hunger Games were truly slated to go on. That, every one of them knows, was the year Coriolanus Snow came to power.

The next chamber is decked out in fake decorative leaves and flowers, laden with the thick smell of forest fruit. This is the room of the second Quarter Quell, and when the children enter it a chorus of sighs burbles up from their midst like little hissing fires. This room contains a priceless artifact, the Panemian equivalent of the Holy Grail: the cleaver used by the victor of the second Quell. It has been nearly three centuries since it was last touched by human hands.

Calypso tolerates the children's immature behavior as they lay their hands on the glass, gazing through it at the broad metal blade used so long ago to levy such immense destruction. There are other goods in here, too: bones of mutts, elaborately twisted skeletons of birds and squirrels that look out of this very world. Soon, though, it is time to move on to the third Quell.

"And I hope you've been taking notes!" Calypso declares.

Of course! How could they have forgotten? The children are unable to believe their shortcoming. It is a privilege, each of them knows, to hear the words of the head gamemaker and to write them down. Straight from the horse's mouth.

Next is the third quell. "That year," Calypso says, "As a reminder to the rebels of the poor choices and decisions that led to the existence of the Hunger Games, the person whose name is reaped from each reaping ball was required to handpick somebody of the same gender to take their place in the games. The first quell (in which tributes were selected by their peers) was meant to make the district citizens feel a heavy sense of responsibility. Nothing could ever wash away the guilt of knowing that one's own hand had contributed to the dooming of a fellow citizen."

Yes, yes. Dooming of a fellow citizen, heavy sense of responsibility. Straight from the horse's mouth.

"The next two quells, meanwhile, were opposites. The second quell was meant to make district citizens feel hopelessly lost and forgotten, while the third quell was meant to make them feel terribly singled out. This is penance. This is how the citizens of the districts must repay the actions of their ancestors more than three hundred years ago."

Onto the fourth quell. "As a reminder to the rebel that the Capitol is forgiving and believes in second chances, twenty-four dead tributes from recent Hunger Games were revived for a second chance at victory."

That, everyone knows, was only a few years before the Third Great Rebellion began – the geopolitical conflict that led to the great nuclear destruction of District 12. The year of the 106th Hunger Games, District 13 (which had been recently re-incorporated into Panem after being overpowered by the Capitol following one of the most horrendous coups in history) began sending tributes into the Hunger Games instead of District 12; at the end of the day, there had to be twenty-four tributes.

"For the fifth quell, as a reminder to the rebels that even their strongest soldiers couldn't survive the war unharmed, the tributes were all eighteen years old."

"For the sixth quell, as a reminder to the rebels of the powerful bonds that were shattered during the dark days, each district provided a brother-sister pair."

An awkward silence fills the room, and some of the children began to laugh. Brothers, sisters. It is horrendous to think about, almost like a dirty joke. The Capitol children have been told every day since their births that there is no such thing as family anymore. Everybody belongs to everybody else, having no home except the broad context of Panem itself.

"I know it is strange to consider, but for most of human history humans were produced via sexual intercourse, and last names were passed from parents to children." Even Calypso shivers a little at that thought. "Now that humans are grown in factories, however, named after the factory worker who carefully nurtured them from fertilization, we have conquered the various shortcomings of human evolution. People are no longer born with preventable genetic diseases. People who do not meet the criteria necessary for society can be shamelessly discarded before they reach the level of maturity where they can be classified as human. It is a perfect world we live in. You should each be proud to belong to this beautiful nation. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever."

"Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever," they repeat.

"For the seventh quell, as a reminder to the rebels that they cannot escape their fates, there were no volunteers."

That was around the time that districts other than 1, 2, and 4 began to provide career tributes. Districts 5 and 7 came first, establishing their academies with government funding received in what was nicknamed the Second Cordley Plan – a grand scheme to help along the process of reconstruction in the districts heavily hit by financial difficulties midway through the second Hunger Games century. Districts 3 and 13 later joined the party – now, seven districts possessed some means to train their children for the games.

"For the eighth quell, as a reminder to the rebels of the direct influence that the Capitol has over their lives, each district's Capitol escort approached and directly handpicked which boy and girl they wanted to enter the Hunger Games that year."

The eighth quell. That was the year the first human was fully grown in a factory setting.

"Adam Ward was the first human produced entirely outside of a woman's body," Calpyso says.

"Adam Ward was the first human produced entirely outside of a woman's body," repeats each child in turn.

"I am lucky to live in a world where such civility and scientific order is possible."

"I am lucky to love in a world where such civility and scientific order is possible."

Yes, they have been trained well.

"For the ninth quell, as a reminder to the rebels that rates of starvation and poverty quadrupled after the rebellion, each district provided four times the number of tributes."

"For the tenth quell, as a reminder to the rebels that the Capitol destroyed both their strongest and weakest members, only two districts participated. The district with the most victors (District 2) provided twelve tributes, as did the district with the fewest victors (District 9)."

"For the eleventh quell, as a reminder to the rebels of the children left abandoned after the rebellion with their parents and loved ones dead, the tributes were all orphans."

And then they come to the penultimate room, the final scale along the back of the great snake. The clocks chime again now. The pinging little cries of the clocks all down the hall are specifically timed to fire a millisecond later than the ones nearer the elevators and the entrance. One might get the impression that a single loud pinging noise snaked its way around the museum once per hour, beginning at the glossy doors and travelling down the hall, past the lounge, through the induction room, up the stairs.

"For the twelfth quell, as a reminder to the rebels that they were heartless killers, the tributes were all convicted murderers."

A moment of silence. Then Calypso simply explodes.

"Oh, but you are too young. I shouldn't lie to myself. How could you possibly appreciate the inner workings of this dense, beautiful museum? Our greatest patriots have curated it over the last three hundred years. Your marks have not yet been made in the great story of Panem; you are not nearly old enough. But one day – very soon – it will come time to make your mark. I surely hope you know the history of the Hunger Games and the history of Panem when that time comes!"

"We will, we will!"

"You must have learned to appreciate Panem's greatest technological and historical innovations."

"We will, we will!"

Her face falls darkly. "And now we enter the final chamber: that of the upcoming Quarter Quell. Tread lightly, for the future is a fragile thing worthy of much respect. Please, follow me."

There is dead silence, the kind of silence that seems too big to be contained by walls. It presses on their ears and makes their heads spin. Calypso aligns her footsteps with the ticking of the second hand on the nearest clock. Not many clocks in modern Panem have second hands; they were considered a waste of energy years ago. But Calypso likes them. They give her young visitors the impression that their every footstep is being tracked and lovingly looked over.

"And now, we come to the thirteenth Quarter Quell, the twist for which was announced just yesterday."

This room is much shabbier than the ones before, ornamented with only the demonic buzz of crystal fluorescent lighting. The only artifact here is the envelope, encased behind glass that could stop a bullet.

For the thirteenth Quarter Quell, as a reminder to the rebels that those from all walks of life were needlessly killed during the rebellion, children as young as five and adults as old as twenty-five will be eligible.

"I am proud to be a citizen of the Capitol!" Calypso barks.

The children repeat the phrase in turn.

"It is a privilege to witness the Hunger Games each year."

"To view them is the very meaning of human life. There is no worth in anything except living to see the Hunger Games."

It is necessary. It is good. These facts are self-proving, self-supporting, utterly axiomatic.

"And now you have the added privilege of…" she starts.

"And now I have the added privilege of…" they interrupt.

Calypso waves her hand. That is enough for now.

"It is a great privilege, as I was saying, to witness a Quarter Quell at such a young age. These implements were introduced by President Snow in the year 25, to keep fresh for each generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against the Capitol. And now you will witness a Quell the scope of which has never been seen before. Previously, the number of tributes has been flexed; the manner of reaping the tributes altered. But never before have tributes outside of the standard age range been selected for the games."

Yes, it was a great privilege. A privilege to hear those words straight from the horse's mouth.

"Children will die younger than have ever died in the games. It is a great privilege to see the Hunger Games."

"It is a great privilege to see the Hunger Games."

"Adults will die older than have ever died in the games. It is a great privilege to see the Hunger Games."

"It is a great privilege to see the Hunger Games."

"This year, the 325th Hunger Games, will be the greatest yet."

"The greatest yet."

Straight from the horse's mouth onto the paper. Every one of them writes that down, even though it is easy to remember.

"For three hundred twenty-five years the Hunger Games have been celebrated throughout Panem – and they will continue forever and ever. Panem today."

"Panem today."

"Panem tomorrow."

"Panem forever."

Straight from the horse's mouth onto the paper.