A/N: Thanks to charliesunshine, mangesboy01 and I-am-Cashmere-the-victor for reviewing the last chapter!

This chapter's ended up as a sort of songfic; I hope that you still enjoy it :)

P.S. This victor was included in the early chapters of my other story, 'Mentor'.


"Watching, waiting, shaping, faking

Shocking, pumping, mocking, stopping

Falling, stalling, warning, crawling

Rejecting, perfecting, marauding, ending."

- Steven Wilson, 2010.


The 43rd Annual Hunger Games

Georgina 'Georgie' Williamson (18), District 4 Female

Pendulum feat. Steven Wilson - The Fountain (2010)


Watching.

The Games have been a constant in my life since the day that I was born. Compulsory watching every summer for all of Panem's districts. I've known the dangers of the arena for as long as I've been able to talk.

Waiting.

My worst fear as a child was to reaped without any preparation for the arena. To be reaped without training would result in almost certain death. And so I made sure that as soon as I was old enough, I enlisted at District 4's Training Centre.

Shaping.

Over the last seven years, I've been taken under the wing of one of District 4's older victors, Mags, who has taught me everything that she knew when she combatted the arena. You see, like me, Mags entered the arena with the mindset of a survivalist, not a mindless killer. Being only five feet seven inches tall, I have nowhere near the physical strength of most victors. Even most of the female victors are nearly six feet tall; anyone else simply isn't up to it physically, unless they have some unbelievably good ability that lets them combat strength, such as high levels of skill with ranged weapons, or the knowledge of how to survive in almost any natural environment.

Faking.

I can clearly remember the trials at the Training Centre six weeks ago, which I won to earn the right to volunteer for my district. I didn't win through fighting ability or even by my survival skills. I won by deceit. I won by forging dodgy alliances with other tributes and using my temporary allies to my advantage before dispatching them.

Shocking.

I even allied with my best friend from the Training Centre. She never expected me to turn on her after I allied with her.

Mocking.

Unlike the trial Games that are held in the other Career districts, the trials in District 4 don't use real weapons, so nobody is seriously injured in the trials. This meant that after "killing off" fellow trainee Careers, I had a perfect opportunity to mock them and gloat, revelling in my successes.

Pumping.

Since then, in the month before the reaping, all the victors that helped at the Training Centre gave me all the help that I could get. Even though I have always stressed that I wanted to be a survivalist, they insisted that I get to grips more with a few weapons, as the Gamemakers would eventually force me into combat, no matter how evasive I might try to be.

Stopping.

Once in the Capitol, all my confidence and arrogance that I had amassed in District 4 evaporated when I met my fellow Careers, all of whom were traditional fighter types that I had grown used to seeing during the Games. Suddenly I was intimidated by the large males from One and Two, but I stuck to the plan that Mags had helped me formulate of pretending to go along with the alliance, but ditching them as soon as I entered the arena.

Falling.

Once I actually entered the arena, which was a large, deserted mansion and the surrounding grounds, I realised that my plan would no longer work. Most of the arena was man-made; my survival skills would be of little use. However, my training score of seven was too low to guarantee me long in the Career Alliance before the other Careers would turn on me, and so I stuck to my plan, abandoning my allies at the cornucopia.

Stalling.

For the first couple of days in the arena, I managed to lie low in the partially wooded grounds to the south of the large mansion where the remaining four tributes of the Career Pack roamed. I saw my district partner's face in the sky on the second night. I can only assume that his allies turned on him, as they would have done to me.

Warning.

The Games quickly petered out to a stalemate within a week, as none of the surviving non-Careers dared to venture to the mansion, as the natural supplies were in the grounds and the Careers were content with their cornucopia supplies. So it didn't surprise me when a feast was announced by Claudius Templesmith, which would occur on the morning of the ninth day of the Games, with eleven tributes (including myself and four Careers) left alive. But I knew not to go. Why run to such an event when I had everything that I needed?

Crawling.

Four died that morning at the feast, including the girl from District 2. Due to the fact that I spotted the boy from Three trying to enter the mansion, I was able to deduce that either the Careers had split or had moved camp. It turned out that the former suggestion was correct, I knew that I had waited long enough. Now it was time for me to make my mark on the Games.

Rejecting.

On the eleventh morning, I ran into the girl from District 1. Instead of killing her straightaway (which I doubt I would have been able to do), I chose to form a tentative alliance with her and use her to my advantage.

Perfecting.

The next day, after killing off the boy from District 3, we ran into my new ally's district partner. I took a back seat role as the girl from District 1 calmly dispatched of her district partner before I chose to turn on her with my knife when she least expected it. Maybe I could have waited a little longer before getting rid of her, but I was eager to perfect my skills at unsuspectingly sneaking up on people for the kill. Now there were only three tributes left alive in the arena.

Marauding.

It was another two days before the girl from District 12 was killed by the boy from Two, on day fourteen of the Games. Heading to the mansion, where I was sure that the boy would be, I ran into him in the large multi-floor entrance foyer at the front of the building, which was lavishly decorated with expensive carpets and furniture, and the walls were adorned with the finest tapestry and paintings. Although I spent a moment admiring the room, my attention was quickly back with my adversary, the boy from District 2. He never knew that I was there until he was dead.

Ending.

Suddenly I snap out of my memories as the music and the cheers of the Capitol crowd are suddenly overpowered by the sound of the hovercraft that appears above me. I am sitting in the sun on the stone steps near the large fountain that is outside the entrance to the mansion, barely thirty yards from where the limp, bloodied body of the boy from District 2 still lies. But now the ladder from the hovercraft reaches me, and I freeze in place as I grab hold of it and carries me upwards, away from the arena.

I don't have to be a part of this anymore.

The Hunger Games are over, and now I can go home.


A/N: What did everyone think of that chapter, then? I know it was a bit different, but hopefully it was different in a good way. If you did enjoy it, please review! Constructive criticism is welcomed :)

By the way, I meant for the Games to be set in the grounds of an old 17th-century style mansion or hall, such as Chatsworth House or Hardwick Hall, which are in Derbyshire. I wasn't sure if that came across correctly in the chapter, so I figured that should mention it.

Here's some good news; we're getting close to several milestones! We're not far from 25 favourites and follows, 10,000 views and not to far from 200 reviews, so I just thought I'd say a big thank-you to everyone who's stuck with the story so far. I really appreciate you taking the time to read my work :)

P.S. If you've read 'Second Time Unlucky' and the related stories in detail, you'll be able to tell me which victor is next :)