Hey People!

Okay so this is a SUPER sucky late chapter and I am reeeaaally sorry.

You may blame my friend for introducing me to the Walking Dead.

Yeeeeep, I'm hooked, and had no time to write because I was too busy watching every single episode and obsessing. (Daaaaryl)

Then of course a friend came into town and is staying with us and now that it's summer I've been busier.

But I'm here now, and I hope you will forgive my absence.

As always, thank you so much for your patience and for reading, I hope you continue to enjoy the story, and be sure to let me know what you think!

Love all you guys ;)

PS: I forgot that I had named the Head Gamemaker "Horatio Snow" And so I changed it to "Nero" Which I like better, so I'll be going back and changing his name in the earlier chapters.

Chapter Twenty-Five: Training.

"Mags?"

I look up quickly, having zoned out while Dash was explaining how the training would go that day. "Hmm?"

He motions to Ryder and Lisa. "Anything you'd like to add?"

I frown. "What did you cover?"

He chuckles and shrugs. "Just the basics."

I turn to Ryder and Lisa after thinking for a few moments. "Um…focus on survival skills, Ryder, and Lisa, find a weapon you're comfortable using. Don't underestimate the use of survival skills. Most of the tributes will be killed by the arena, not the other tributes. Do either of you want allies?"

Ryder shakes his head firmly. "No."

Lisa casts a glance at Ryder, and then shrugs. "I…I don't really trust anyone else."

Ryder's surprised look doesn't escape me, or the way his eyes flicker sideways to glance at her for a brief second.

I nod. "Alright, well then, try and see what the other tributes are good at, that way you can better prepare yourself to go against them."

Dash nods in agreement. "Don't be afraid to ask the trainers for help, it's better to be taught by a professional than try and figure it out on your own."

Lisa's looking more and more nervous, anxiously twisting her napkin between her hands as she stares at her plate of half eaten food. "I wish you could just train us."

I glance at Dash, whose face is impassive, betraying nothing. "I wish we could to, but that's not the way this works. We'll be here to talk the day over with you when you come back."

I glance at the clock and nod my head toward their rooms. "You'd best go get ready, you don't want to be late."

They both stand up and hurry to their rooms, leaving Dash and I alone at the table. A few moments later a servant walks up and places a blank white envelope in front of Dash, and promptly leaves.

My stomach turns as the color drains from his face, and he stares at the envelope with horror filled eyes.

After a minute or so, he reaches for it, his hands trembling slightly. I watch as he falls apart in front of me, seeming to age years as his eyes scan the paper.

"I didn't…" My voice breaks, and after a moment I ask quietly. "So soon?"

He nods, and stuffs the paper into his pocket. "Yeah."

There's silence for a moment, then he drags his hand down his face and lets out a heavy sigh. "I'm relieved."

I raise my eyebrows in surprise, staring at him in shock. "What?"

He meets my gaze and gives me a weak smile. "Only one envelope. You don't have to…well, you know."

Realization sets in, and a weight I didn't even know I had lifts from my shoulders. "Oh…"

He nods. "It looks like I'll be out all day…you going to be alright on your own?"

I nod. "I'm sure I'll find something to do." An idea strikes me, and I ask quickly. "Can I watch them train?"

He frowns. "I'm not sure…I've never asked before. I guess it's possible, you could sit in with the gamemakers."

"Who do I ask?"

He stands up. "We ask head gamemaker Snow, he'll be in the viewing room. Come on, I'll show you."

I follow him to the elevator, which we take to the training floor. Instead of taking the door into the training room however, we cut to the left and walk down a hallway, taking a door on the right that leads to a winding staircase, at the top of which sits another door.

Dash knocks, and a moment later it's opened by a servant.

"Yes?" She asks, looking slightly puzzled as to why we're there.

"Can we speak to Nero Snow? We'd like to ask him something."

She glances over her shoulder, then pulls the door open wider and ushers us inside.

She leads us down another short hallway which is lined on both sides with doors. Avoiding these, she leads us right to the other end, and through the large door situated there.

A few of the gamemakers glance up as the door opens, but for the most part they continue to talk.

The woman hurries over to a slim man of medium height. His light brown hair is cut severely short on both sides, strange symbols shaved into it. The top is longer, and spiked up. He listens to the woman, then his cold blue eyes flicker up to land on Dash, then they linger on mine.

I feel a chill go down my spine. I've seen those eyes before, on his son, Coriolanus Snow. Cold, ruthless and cruel, a snake's eyes.

He stands and straightens his perfectly tailored crimson suit coat, then walks over and stands in front of us. "Lathia tells me you have something to ask." His eyes meet Dash's. "I'm sure you'll make it quick, you have places to be after all."

I can feel Dash tense beside me, but he keeps cool, playing Capitol Dash well as he gives the head gamemaker a pleasant smile. "Of course, Mags was just wondering if she could look in on the training."

His eyebrows barely raise, and although he addresses Dash, his eyes are on mine. "Oh? So she doesn't have somewhere else to be? Interesting."

I refuse to look away from those soulless eyes, feeling every ounce of strength I have surge through me, reminding me of what I'm capable of. "No, I don't. Obviously President Laertes thinks my time could be better spent elsewhere."

He smirks ever so slightly, impressed by my cool attitude. "Well, the President obviously knows best. I don't see why you wouldn't be able to observe the training."

I nod stiffly and turn to Dash. "I'll see you later."

He's looking a little tense, and when he meets my gaze I can tell he's second guessing my decision. "Are you sure you want to watch?"

I nod. "I'll be fine."

He hesitates, then gives my arm a gentle squeeze. "I'll see you."

As he turns and leaves, I feel the heaviness in my chest grow tighter, wishing there was some way I could help him.

"I'm surprised Laertes hasn't exercised all your…abilities yet."

Icy cold fear crawls down my spine as I turn to face Nero again.

"I thought he would've made more use of you as soon as he could."

I shrug, refusing to let him get under my skin. "I guess the Capitolites just aren't interested."

His smile causes my throat to constrict in panic. "No, that's not it." Then he casually glances down to my ring finger. "That will only protect you for so long, not everyone in the Capitol has a sense of morality."

I force myself to breathe normally as I reply. "Well perhaps the President does."

He chuckles. "If he did, he wouldn't have agreed to let me set up this little…arrangement with some of the victors in the first place."

Before I can reply, a small voice cuts in. "Father?"

We both turn and my eyes land on his son, Coriolanus Snow.

"Yes my son?"

His eyes are identical to his father's, but his hair almost white blonde hair must match his mother's. He keeps his gaze firmly fixed on me as he says. "The training has started."

Nero turns and glances down at the floor below. "So it has. Come along, we'll watch for a bit before lunch."

I give a few of the gamemakers a nod as I move over to the large opening in the wall for viewing the training. I rest my elbows on the smooth stone and scan the floor.

It's pretty much set up the same as last year during my own games, although a few of the stations have some new enhancements, and they've added a large net across the ceiling.

The tributes have just been dismissed after being told the rules, and are now wandering to the different stations.

Ryder and Lisa are sticking together, and have moved to the weapons station, where Ryder is handing different weapons to Lisa and helping her find a good fit.

He seems partial to a slim, two-handed sword, wielding it comfortably in his hands.

Lisa finally settles on a pair of long knives, finding that she can dual wield them fairly easy.

The weapons expert shows her the proper way to hold them, and several moves she can use to disarm, disable, or dispose of an enemy. When he offers to help Ryder train with the sword, he shakes his head and motions for him to continue training with Lisa before moving to a survival station.

They both seem to be learning easily, so I allow my gaze to wander to the other tributes.

Jasper and Queen are sticking close to the weapon and combat stations, seeming to compensate for the lack of the rest of the career pack by being twice as savage and dedicated to their training.

The Female tribute from District three, the deaf one, is staring silently at the trainer at the edible plants stations, reading her lips and following her movements as she shows her the different poisonous and non-poisonous plants.

The boy tribute from District six, I think his name is Heath, is at the wooded section with Gareth, the boy from nine. They're working on fire building and snares, casually saying something to each other every now and then.

The only other tribute that poses much of a threat besides them is Willow, the girl from eleven. Who is currently dismembering a dummy's limbs with a sleek, weaponized scythe.

I look everywhere for the girl from Five, Mary I think her name is, the one Ryder said looked sneaky. Apparently he was right, because I can't spot her anywhere.

I eventually find her up in the net that spans almost half the ceiling. She's perched up there like a cat, carefully watching the other tributes.

"She's clever."

I jump slightly, taken by surprise at the sudden comment. I look to my left and see Coriolanus standing there, watching Mary with calculating eyes.

"What?"

He motions to Mary. "I said she's clever." He turns his gaze to me. "Do you know what she's doing?"

I nod. "She's watching the other tributes, learning what their weakness and strengths are."

He shrugs. "Maybe."

I glance down at him. "What do you think she's doing?"

He watches her for a few more moments before staring me dead in the eyes. "I think she's deciding how to kill them."

My entire body stiffens, and I stare at him with a hard gaze, looking deep into his eyes, I know that one day he will cause unbelievable pain and suffering.

"But that's just what I would do." He says coolly, almost daring me to challenge him.

"Well, then maybe you would have a chance at winning. Too bad you'll never get the chance."

He seems surprised by this. "You wish I could be sent to the arena?"

There is no mercy in my eyes, my voice cold and hard as I reply. "I wish every single person who enjoys these sick games could experience the hell they cheer for every year, to see what it's like in the arena, fighting every second to survive, watching kids slaughter each other, to feel the pain of watching friends and family die horribly, to experience the agony of being torn to shreds by mutts. That's what I wish."

His gaze grows as cold as mine, and he leans closer to me as he hisses a reply. "My mother and I were taken captive by you filthy rebels, and they had her slaughtered without mercy. But do you want to know the cruelest part?"

I was unable to respond, too shocked to form words.

"The cruelest part was, in exchange for my freedom, I had to be the one who sank the knife into her chest and twisted it." His voice drops almost to a whisper, and his face twists into a state of such cruelty and evil, a demon would be hard put to top it. "And I liked it."