A/N: Thanks to Kman528, nevergone4ever, District4girl and allonsydney for reviewing! I appreciate the support :)

Quite a few people have asked for another District 3 victor, so this one is sort of due to a request. I had a few difficulties creating a District 3 name. Seeing as District 3 is the technology district, I eventually decided to name this victor after famous inventors. Hopefully the name sounds ok...

Anyway, I hope that you enjoy today's chapter, which is about the 72nd Annual Hunger Games :)


"Sending the boys away

Leaving them out to play

Throwing them miles away

Now it's another day, to shelter from the storm."

- Sergio Pizzorno, 2011.


The 72nd Annual Hunger Games

Alva Baird (18), District 3 Male

Kasabian - Acid Turkish Bath (Shelter From the Storm) (2011)


I dunk my head in the stream, desperate to cool myself off. I feel the water flow around me, and I pull out again, my mop of dark brown hair dripping water all over me. I lie back on the riverbank and look up at the clear blue sky.

Wow, what a day.

It's only the third day of the arena, but the numbers are dropping fast. Just nine left already. For those who fared badly at the bloodbath, there is little hope in this environment.

I sit up on the riverbank and take in my surroundings once more. It's a hot, dry desert, more dusty than sandy. The land is mainly flat, excluding the mountains in the distance that seem to make the edge of the arena in all directions. Two or three thin streams stem out from the central lake near the cornucopia, which is still visible from several miles away, its golden surface reflecting the burning sunlight straight back me, shining like a beacon. Aside from the lake and two or three small streams, there is no water. Those who had no luck with supplies are gone already; dried out by the sun, left dehydrated by the lack of available water. The Careers haven't moved far all through the Games. They know that half the field will die without them needing to break a sweat. As long as they defend the water, they are in a dominating position.

Elsewhere in the arena, there is scrubby land further out from the cornucopia, but the promise of food will surely come at a price. I still remember the Games when I was a young child, in which poisonous snakes roamed free in the scrub and boulders. Thankfully, my supplies from the cornucopia have kept me away from the scrub so far.

I hate having to think about the cornucopia. It reminds me of the bloodbath; the most desperate and frantic five minutes of my life, and also the worst. I always knew it would be bad, but I had to commit to running in towards the supplies, especially once I saw the arena, and understood how tough it would be to survive. I scored highly in training, as I'm easily the largest and strongest tribute of the twenty-four in this year's Games. I may have no Career training, but my physical prowess alone won me a nine from the Gamemakers.

Having made the decision to run to the cornucopia, I was one of the first to arrive due to my long stride length, but I found a surprise waiting for me when I arrived. Food and water was in short supply; I could've guessed that from the arena. The Gamemakers always make crucial supplies the most scarce. What I didn't expect was the the only weapons I could find anywhere were heavy, spiked maces. Two feet long and weighing many kilograms, they are slow, cumbersome and unbelievably brutal to use. But they were in abundance, and there were no other weapons available. Having picked up a large green backpack and a mace, I was forced into action far sooner than I'd have liked.

Turning to run from the scene, I found myself face to face with the girl from District 1 - Wonder, I believe her name was - who was armed with the same heavy metal mace as I was. Instinctively I swung at her, fearing for my life as I watched the large spikes collide with her skull.

I don't like to think about what was left of her.

Every night since then I've dreamt about that moment, often waking in a cold sweat in the darkness due to my nightmares. I was worried whether I was going crazy on the first night, like the girl from District 4 who won a couple of years ago.

But one thing that it definitely did was make me realise how wrong the Hunger Games are. Nobody wins in here. Even the victors lose, in reality. They must sacrifice so much to survive in the arena that part of them dies along with the other twenty-three. In my district, our past victors have fared better than some after the Games, but I know of the drunks, the addicts, the lost souls who give up after the arena, when you might expect their troubles to be over.

But why?

Even my late grandparents were too young for the Games at their beginning. We are two generations removed - three from the fabled rebellion - from the Hunger Games. Why should the punishment continue? There is barely a single person in District 3 who remembers the Dark Days. If so, they never fought; they'd have been ten when the war ended, twelve at most. Many of the victors who survived the Capitol's torture are long gone, too. It's been fifteen years since the first victor died, one of the early victors from District 4. Even the victors aren't immortal.

The Capitol can't allow the Games to go on much longer. Soon the Dark Days will be out of living memory, and then there will be no reason for the punishment to continue. If it does, I'm sure that many will stand up for freedom against the Capitol's oppression, as our ancestors did nearly a century ago.

The Third Quarter Quell may only be a few years away, but I like to think that we won't reach the fourth. There's plenty of discontent in the districts, I'm sure of it. There's a fair amount in Three, and I know that other districts such as Ten, Eleven and Twelve are far worse off than we are. The anger against the Capitol is there. Give the districts a reason to fight, and maybe we could change Panem for the better.

But enough thoughts of hoping for a better tomorrow.

Today, I have to survive the Games.

Maybe if I do, I'll manage to do my part in forming a better Panem.

All we need is a cause to fight for.


The 72nd Games only lasted six days due to the harsh conditions, set down by a new Head Gamemaker, Seneca Crane. The fact that there was only one type of weapon in the arena (the spiked clubs) played into the hands of the larger tributes, who could use the weapons better and were more resilient to the effects of the arena's climate, resulting in an all-male final six by day five./p

On the fourth day, the Career pack halved when the two girls from District 2 and 4 were turned on by their taller and stronger male allies, cutting the size of the alliance from five to three. The next day, the three male Careers ventured from the vicinity of the cornucopia into the scrubby land surrounding it for the first time, where they were ambushed by a pack of lizard mutts, which killed two and left the boy from District 1 without weapons or supplies. He died during the cold night that followed.

The final three tributes, the boys from Districts 3, 7 and 11 were called to a feast on the morning of the sixth day at the lake near the cornucopia, and all three attended. The Games ended that morning, with the strongest of the three boys, Alva Baird of District 3, being crowned the victor of the 72nd Annual Hunger Games.


A/N: I'm not overly sure about this one, so I'm keen to hear what you all think about this chapter :) As ever, I welcome constructive criticism.

I'd also like to say a massive thank-you to everyone who's stuck with this story so far, as it's just reached, 25,000 views, which is simply incredible. Thanks so much, everyone :)

P.S. I'll give out more info about the community project if I get a little more interest :)