Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games Trilogy or the Mary Sue; I simply own my Alexia Monroe and any characters I made up. This is for Prophe's Mary Sue contest at hungergamestrilogy.com.

A/N: Yes, she's supposed to be a Mary Sue. That's the point. Review, flame, doesn't matter, have fun reading it. Hell of a lotta fun to write, I'll tell you that.

. . .

Golden Bullet

Chapter Three

. . .

The first thing Alexia Monroe saw in the hovercraft was the bed Kim was set on. He had somehow already been covered in a light sheet, but he was still bleeding. Alexia averted her gaze and began to hurry toward the only door she saw. There was a high voice speaking in urgent tones behind it.

Alexia could not be caught, so she flipped her beautiful hair over her shoulder, shoulder-rolled forward, flipped twice through the air, and slid beneath Kim's bed to hide. Just in time, because the door quietly opened and clacking shoes were proof that the high-voiced person was walking into the room.

From all of the information Alexia had gathered throughout her life, she knew the most important thing was: she was the prettiest, most wonderful person living on this planet. The second most important thing was that the element of surprise.

Combine these two things together and Alexia could save every living being in Panem.

She heard the high-pitched voice again; the person must've been talking into some sort of phone. They said, "Yes, I've got District 10, Male, with me. He was stabbed by '12.'"

Shuddering with rage at what the person was saying, Alexia adjusted her muddy boots into a more comfortable fit. As soon as this hovercraft landed in the Capitol, she would make her move. And surely, it'd land soon.

As if she could predict the future—which, of course, Alexia could; long ago her mother's ancestor's aunt's half-sister's daughter's son's best friend's cousin was a gypsy—Alexia felt the hovercraft landing in a Capitol station. The high-pitched-voiced person had left the room upon landing, and Alexia crawled out from beneath the bed.

She glanced out the window only to see they were in a landing spot, clearly marked. The door was already sliding back open, and she slipped back beneath the bed, pulling herself upward so that she was facing where Kim was lying, dead, above her, clutching the springs and wooden beams with her hands and boot-covered feet.

The bed was wheeled promptly out of the room. It was no effort for Alexia to hold onto the bed even though it seemed like they were rolling away for hours and hours.

Then she dropped, almost exhausted! It was a first for sure.

Luckily, she landed on soft, navy-blue carpeting, her landing obscured by it. She barely even heard the dull thump that accompanied her drop. "Thank you," said a cold, scaly voice. "You may leave now, Nurse, and leave the dead thing to me."

At this, Alexia jumped out from beneath the bed, screaming, "Hah!" Then she realized who she was standing in front of. Her eyes narrowed and flashed; they were dark blue now. The sun itself was angry and horrified at Alexia's predicament.

She vowed to soon have her irises be light blue again as she said, "Hello, Mr. President Snow."

He nodded vaguely and said, "And what, Alexia Monroe, are you doing here?"

Alexia grinned, flashing her white, white teeth at the president. It was time, in fact, to turn on her ever-bearing charm to the highest extent. "I'm surprised you've asked," she said in a silky voice, wearing a soft smile. Her face, although slightly mud streaked from the arena, shone brilliantly out at him.

"Why is that?"

For a reason Alexia could not understand, President Snow was resisting her. He was not blind nor deaf nor smell-less; how was this possible? How in Panem…?

"Because, Sir, a great man like you should know already." She put a hand on Kim's bloodless face. She had no desire to know why President Snow had wanted to see Kim; perhaps he saw to all of the dead tributes. How disgusting. Looking him evenly in the eye, Alexia murmured, "To avenge them, Snow. To avenge all of them. All there were, are, and will be."

President Snow did not seem to like this news. He glared at Kim, because it was nearly impossible to glare at Alexia and this dead boy was the only other thing in the room to glare at, really—and replied, "Why do you want to do that?" in a low, hateful voice.

"Because it's wrong. Did you not see in the arena? I'm sure you did even if the viewers did not." She took a step forward, looked Snow in the eye, and added, "We were right in there. I'm putting an end to all of this!"

President Snow was prepared, as he always was. But he was slightly flustered because Alexia herself was such a surprise. She had pulled out her bejeweled dagger, held it out at him, and began to yell words he had never heard before.

The president opened a drawer on his desk, pulled out a golden pistol, and held it out at her. "Put—the dagger—down!" he commanded, but she didn't comply.

"This knife came from many important people before me," she murmured. "And I know it was made for my purpose now. I know it was made to kill you." With a softer voice, she said, "President Snow, don't make me do this. Listen, please, I don't have to kill you…just listen…"

But he had plugged his ears and shut his eyes and appeared to be breathing through his mouth. One hand was now leaving his right ear and creeping toward the trigger on the pistol—

"NO!" cried Alexia, and suddenly as the bullet flew outwards…it stopped.

On closer inspection, Alexia realized, it was only moving slowly, so, so slowly. And she knew that she had the power to control time.

Hurriedly, Alexia moved out of the way and willed time to move normally again. When it did, the golden bullet shot through the door that had been behind Alexia just seconds ago.

"I can stop you," she told him, eyeing him carefully. "I know exactly how, now."

"How?" demanded President Snow, his brow sweating profusely already.

Alexia replied, "By being me!" And she threw the dagger, which President Snow could not block with his pistol as he had wished, because it was so fast and he could not stop time.

It caught him in the neck, and he let out a strangled sound. "How—could my—own daughter—do this—?" he choked, staggering backwards and collapsing to the ground.

"What?" gasped Alexia, rushing to him. "You're my father?"

"Of—course—," Snow said, barely able to breathe now. "Could you ne—ver tell? We—have the same—" At this, he fell silent, then gagged on his own blood, and his eyes rolled back.

"Oh, God, what have I done?!" Alexia yelled, beating her fists to the blood-soaked ground.

She heard the door open, heard the gasp of surprise, then the excited, relieved cheer. She turned to see all of the Avoxes in the doorway, accompanied by Peacekeepers and other Capitol residents.

"You have done us all a great favor," one of the crowd told her. "Now we must gather and have our celebration."

"But…he was your president," said Alexia.

"Was. And we hated him," said the same person. "Don't you see? He had us under mind control. And you, Alexia Monroe, stopped him. Thank you, President Monroe."

"Me, president?" she asked, unable to keep her face unsmiling. The blinding flash took out an Avox, but no one noticed because all eyes were on Alexia.

"Of course. Now, for the coronation!"

She was lifted by the Capitolians, and then taken from the room, where President Snow and Kim lay dead behind them, already a thing of the past. Alexia knew she would make many, many changes. Panem would be a happier place.

Soon she was on live television, all over Panem, after the few remaining tributes had been rescued. Alexia was dressed in her reaping outfit, looking the same she had that very fateful day. Her eyes were light blue again. The sun was happy with her.

"Please, please welcome—" began a head Peacekeeper of the Capitol, "your new leader, President—Alexia—Monroe!"

The End