So I haven't uploaded in 3 months... I'm so so so so so so so sorry. I wish I had a good excuse, but I don't really so... sorry, again!
On the flesh of smaller forms of wildlife
the eagle she does fill her craw
A predator of Nature's wild kingdom
and Nature lives by her own law
And the predators of Nature's wild kingdom
they have to kill to stay alive
It is called the survival of the fittest
where only the fittest survive.
- It is Survival of the Fittest- Francis Duggan
In the panic of the moment I grabbed the closest thing to me- an ornate silver candelabra studded with black and blue stones that had no candles in them. I threw it towards a Career that was shakily holding a gun in Roman's direction. I think he was too scared to use it- or maybe he didn't know how to use it.
(The extent of weapons the Capitol people had was the fake plasto-metallan victory weapons that were crafted in every other Hunger Games Gift and Memorabillia shop. (After each Game the weapon used to kill the last Tribute was crafted using a plastic-metal mix- most of the time. Usually it was arrows, a sword, a trident, something metallic, so the weapons looked like they were metal but were harmless plastic.
Occasionally, the weapons had to be made out of something different, and they weren't as fun to play with. One year, it was a brick, another year it was a pair of hands- basically, skin coloured gloves. Another year- and this was the worst ever 'weapon', it was a fish bowl.
That year- the 63rd Hunger Games- the Head Gamemaker was a man called Granville Lorensdale, and even though I was only four at the time, I remembered him because he was famous for being the worst Gamemaker ever. The arena was a huge maze of shops in a shopping centre, and the victor and the last tribute were in a petshop. The last tribute got drowned in a fishbowl.
Only a couple thousand people bought the fishbowl, it wasn't very popular. I demanded to get a fishbowl, one with an actual fish in it. I got a little purple fish with stripy fins. It died after four days because I forgot to tell my Avox to feed it. )
None of us were ready to killed anybody- not even Raff. He may be all show and muscles and, "Hunger Games winner, how could it not be me?" but he was still a Capitol kid. We grew up in a world of Avoxes and glitz and glamour, coddled like babies, the only big decisions in our lives being, "How many of my gold rings should wager on a Katniss Everdeen winning the 74th Hunger Games?" or "Should I get my body dyed turquoise or violet?". Raff was one of those people. At least, I hoped he was just as much of a bubble head as the rest of us.
Maybe all the rumours about him being an amazing fighter were false? I wondered after I hit the boy in front of me- was it Ajax?- on the back of the head with a lamp. This was because Raff was just standing at the edge of the crowd, weapon raised to protect Katri if he needed to.
Why was he doing that? I found my answer immediately afterwards when thick ropy vines crashed through the floor-to-ceiling windows and grabbed onto Ajax who was lying unconcious on the carpeted floor. Blood from where I hit his head soaked into the carpet turning it a bright red.
They were the same vines that had thorns dripping with scorpion muttation venom. The effects of scorpion venom varied from person to person- sometimes the venom killed people only to revive them with so little oxygen in their brain they started hallucinating, sometimes the subject was strong enough they skipped the death part and just were overwhelmed with the intense urge to kill.
Raff was pretty strong- much to my dismay- and when the poison thorns touched him a few seconds went by and he stood up rigidly. He turned around so I could see his eyes- they were bloodshot and- well, the only other way to describe them was bloodthirsty.
"Roman! Forget them just get away!" I yelled to Roman, not knowing if he heard, before I ran back into the bathroom. I shoved my shoulder against the door to stop Ajax from getting in, and locked it with shaky hands.
Great going, Wren. Now you've locked yourself in. Idiot. I could feel my heart thudding shakily in my chest. I could hear Ajax drumming and clawing at the door. Oh, and you've also abandoned Roman out there with the Careers. Double idiot!
There was no way to get out- unless I could squeeze through the small window near the top of the wall, above the shower... Ajax kept pounding on the door. I would take my chances with the door. I picked up my clothes off the floor and started climbing up the showerhead. It hurt my feet, and the metal groaned in a menacing way like it was about to give in under my weight.
Ajax crashed into the bathroom, his eyes narrowing with anger when he saw me. He slipped on the wet floor, and I had a few more seconds to open the window- it was jammed. I pushed it again, but it still didn't budge. Ajax picked himself off the floor and grabbed for my ankle. His cold fingers skimmed by my foot but he couldn't get a proper grip. I pushed frantically at the window, just as Ajax grabbed me again, almost pulling me down.
I fell so suddenly the window opened and completely fell off the hinges. Of course, it was a pull.
I swung the small window and whacked Ajax around the face. He groaned and got knocked unconcious, falling on the door so it closed. I couldn't see if Roman was there anymore. I grabbed the clothes that had fallen onto the shower cabinet floor and climbed back to the little window. A cold breeze was blowing outside, and goosebumps rose on my arms.
It was now or never. There was a tree close by- and maybe it was just my imagination, but I swear the forest was closing in on the City more and more each day. I wriggled forward arms outstretched until I could reach the tip of the sharp pins of the tree.
Behind me, I could hear the door opening, pushing Ajax's body out of the way.
I pushed forward, panicking- so much that I lost my balance and fell out of the window completely. My arms flung around wildly, trying to catch something to slow my fall. My arm hit a prickly branch, sending me spiralling into more branches.
I landed on the ground with a thud that knocked the wind out of me. If anything, I thought sullenly, rubbing my arms to wipe away the blood that was pooling on my arms from the scratches, the branches broke your fall.
I breathed in deeply, though it made my chest ache. I dug my nails into the damp bark of the tree to pick myself up.
Great. Just great. I'm hurt, I'm cold, I'm wearing a towel and for all I know a camera could be watching me right now. I moodily picked up my clothes and put them on behind a tree. I had no socks or shoes and the bottom of my trousers and my feet were muddy and cold, but hopefully I might be able to sneak back into the apartment. Maybe.
I trudged off in a random direction that was going away from the apartment building. I realised I had also left my backpack there with all my weapons, food and other supplies. And I had also lost Roman. As I walked away from the building, three cannon shots sounded. They resonated in my head and gave me a headache.
So, at the end of the day I was sick, cold, wet, tired, without supplies or weapons, without an ally, and without shoes. Worst of all- I broke two nails. This day was getting better and better.