A/N: Thanks to Clover80, mangesboy01, charliesunshine, Chop n thunder, richards25, I-am-Cashmere-the-victor and Silent2411 for reviewing and giving MJElliot the praise that he rightfully deserved for the last chapter :)

Apologies for the gap between updates, I've spent the last week reading a lot more than I've been writing, but now normal service shall be resumed.

I hope you enjoy today's chapter :)


"What you see, well you might not know

You get the feeling coming after the glow

The vagabond is moving slow

So I'll tell you all the story about the joker and the thief of the night."

- Andrew Stockdale, 2006.


The 52nd Annual Hunger Games

Luke Ford (17), District 5 Male

Wolfmother - Joker and the Thief (2006)


Ever since a young age, my parents have always tried to help me survive the arena, if I was ever unlucky enough to be reaped. Of course, I couldn't be trained openly in District 5; unlike in the Career districts, my parents would have been arrested if they had tried to help me. By my father, who once watched his brother perish in the Games (I can't remember which Games, it was before I was born, back before the First Quarter Quell), tried to ensure that he would never have to watch another family member die.

He could tell from an early age that, given my physical presence, I would stand a chance in the Games. However, in a weaponless arena (and there have been a couple over the years), I wouldn't stand a chance in the arena.

It's an odd sort of training, but he's always been pointing out various objects around the house and our district, and making sure I know exactly how much damage they can do. I know how to make everyday objects lethal; surely a big advantage for the arena.

Even given this odd training, I never wanted to enter the arena, but now that I have been chosen at my fifth reaping, I feel as though I have a chance of getting home alive. My strength scored me an eight in training, which will be good enough to earn me sponsors later in the Games, and I made sure not to show the Gamemakers my hidden talent.

Even before I entered the arena, I was aware that these Games were going to be different. For the first time (at least, the first time that I know of), I was given a weapon along with my clothes in the launch room beneath the arena. Once I had dressed in my clothes (a dark green t-shirt, black combat trousers), my stylist Anastasia had handed me a .38 caliber pistol, and one small, shiny bullet. I'd heard of firearms being used in the Games before, but I knew that they were unpopular with the Gamemakers. The gun that I was given wasn't particularly elaborately designed or anything, but it was crude, practical and most certainly deadly.

My next surprise came once I had entered my pod and was transported into the arena.

The arena itself was a large, abandoned city, not dissimilar to the arena four years ago. Supplies weren't an issue for any of the tributes; although the arena was abandoned, it was in pristine condition, as though the city's residents had mysteriously disappeared just before I entered the arena. Shops were still full of food and supplies, and those who could find a way into the blocks of flats would find extra supplies waiting for them in the homes around the city.

The arena was made unique by one feature; there was no cornucopia.

I was almost looking forward to what I had presumed would be the cornucopia bloodbath, given the fact that I was armed with a pistol, but it wasn't to be. My pedestal raised me up into a marketplace on the outskirts of the city, with no other tributes in sight. There was to be no bloodbath.

The fact that the arena was not only spread out over several square miles but also twenty or thirty floors meant that I was surprised that four tributes had been killed by the end of the first day, including one of the Careers. Having heard gunshots echo through the city that day, I knew that I wasn't the only tribute to be armed. No wonder there was no cornucopia bloodbath; we'd all have shot each other.

On the morning of the first day, I found my first victim; the boy from District 3. I was in one of the small civic parks, near where I thought that the centre of the city was, when I crept up on him. A quick shot to the back of the head from close distance, and there was one left tribute in the arena than before. It was an odd feeling, getting that first kill. I knew that I should have felt sickened and horrified by what I had done, but I only found relief in knowing that there was one less person out there trying to kill me.

On inspecting the body of the dead boy, I came to realise that he had a gun identical to my own, with one bullet loaded within the chamber. I took the bullet from his gun and loaded into mine as I began to realise the Gamemakers' plans.

Every tribute had a gun, and one bullet. To kill, a tribute use their bullet, only to replace it with the ammunition from the dead tribute's body. A tribute would only have one bullet at a time. In a confrontation, if a tribute fired first and missed, they would be defenceless against their armed adversary. It would be a gamble to shoot first.

And so, from the second day onward, I began to use everything that my father had taught me, to make sure that I could kill without using my gun. That way, I would be able to hoard supplies so that I could have two or three chances to shoot against more formidable foes such as the Careers.

The next ten days would see the arena whittled down to just eight tributes including myself, and I killed four of them myself without my weapon. Who needs a gun when you can kill someone by dropping a toaster onto their head from out of a fifth-storey apartment window?

And so here I am, running for my life on day twelve of the Games. Four tributes remain; myself, the girl from District 6, and two Careers. I'm confident that I'm the best armed, at least. I have four bullets, and only three people to shoot.

As I swerve through the shopping centre that is opposite the town hall, I know that the tributes of District 2 are hot on my heels. They're twenty or thirty yards behind me, but I know that I have to keep weaving to prevent them from finding a clear line to shoot. Glancing back, I can see their reflections bouncing off of the windows of the shops around me, their guns at the ready.

Finally I break free from the shopping centre and onto the street, which I sprint across towards the cold stone steps of the town hall. As I sprint up the steps, I hear an explosion behind me, and feel the bullet flick past me as it flies into the front wall of the building, taking chunks out of the stonework. I have no idea how many more bullets the Careers have, so I don't stop running.

Once inside the hall, I come into a large conference room, filled with hundreds of lavishly decorated tables and chairs arranged so that they can view a large stage at the far end of the room. On further study, I realise that there is a figure at the far end of the room; the girl from District 6. Noticing me, she drops down from the stage and advances upon my, her gun held out in front of her, a malicious smile spread across her face. Suddenly there is another guncrack, and I feel the bullet flick through my long hair as it flies past me before nestling in the chest of the girl from Six, who collapses silently onto the floor twenty yards ahead of me.

I quickly realise that I have nowhere else to run; it's difficult to hide in a large conference room, and the Careers have already drawn me in. They have already fired twice; with luck, the Careers won't have any bullets left.

I turn to find that the Careers are no longer focused on me, but on each other. The girl, who is clearly stronger than I had previously thought, had pinned her district partner back against a table, who holds his gun just out of her reach. The girl's gun lies redundant on the floor, presumably empty. I guess that the boy had one more bullet than the girl, and now they both need it.

From twenty yards away I watch the boy kick wildly at his district partner, and they collapse together onto the floor. The boy smashes his head onto a chair on the way down, leaving him unconscious on the floor, relinquishing his grip on the firearm.

I don't wait any longer.

Rushing towards them, I shoot at the girl as she struggles to lift her partner from on top of her as she reaches for the gun. My first shot hits her in the left forearms; she swears loudly in pain but still manages to throw her partner's limp body away from her. My second shot misses the girl completely, going through the floor at her feet, but the third finds its target, burying itself in the girl's chest. She collapses, her blood covering the blue carpet, but there's still life in her yet.

I rush over to her and fire the last bullet through her head at point-blank range, and I hear the cannon sound overhead.

Throwing my useless gun away, I grab the one that the girl had been reaching for, and luckily find that there had been a bullet in it after all.

Behind the dead girl's body, her district partner is just beginning to drift back into consciousness as I drive the bullet through his skull.


A/N: So, what do you think? If you liked it, please review! As ever, constructive criticism is welcomed :)

I'd just like to point out that I've posted the other competition entries for the last chapter in a separate story, so if you feel like you want to read them, then please feel free to check them out :)

P.S. Anybody up for another competition? ;)