A/N: Thanks to Oxenstierna D. Yuki-Rin, Ancrazyhyperawesomeidiot, allonsydney, Clover80, nevergone4ever, krikanalo, richards25, xx-Want-A-Sugar-Cube-xx and Realfiction for reviewing! I appreciate all of your support! :)
I suppose I should mention that the chapters in the Third Quarter Quell are chronological, so this chapter takes place shortly after the last one, although only by a couple of minutes, in this case (the bloodbath chapters come thick and fast).
I suppose one benefit of these bonus chapters is that we can re-visit many of the old victors from the series. This chapter contains a victor of my own creation, who previously appeared in Chapter 52. I hope you all enjoy reading this chapter :)
"We're all broken-hearted here
We're all broken
Oh my love, I can't stand to be alone
I've been drinking too much, I'd better go home."
- Colin MacDonald, 2005.
The 75th Annual Hunger Games (The Third Quarter Quell) - Day 1, 9.58 am
Luke Ford (40), District 5 Male (victor of the 52nd Annual Hunger Games)
The Trews - Ishmael & Maggie (2005)
The thick plastic walls cut me off from my stylist in the launch room, sending me upwards through a dark column into the arena.
Some things never change. The launch room looked exactly like the one I had when I was last here, all those years ago. However, once I'm on the top, I know that things will be very different.
Last time, I succeeded because I was an unknown in the Games. A lot of my success was down to my improvisation; I could make a weapon out of almost anything. This time, in an arena fill with some of my oldest friends, everyone knows my secrets. Take that away from me, and I'm no match for the Adlingtons, or Brutus.
To be honest, if anyone other than Brutus wins this thing, I'll be gobsmacked. Well, to be more accurate, I'll probably be dead, but I would be gobsmacked. I can remember Brutus' Games, they were one of the first that I clear remember watching in my childhood. I was just nine years old then.
I know its unlikely to happen, but I've made an effort to get myself into shape for the Games this summer. I'm not going to go down without a fight. Years of alcohol abuse have left me weak, but something about the desperate nature of my situation has let me overcome my issues. I may be well down the path to forgetting the world, but I've not yet reached the point of no return. I'm not as far along the path as Haymitch, Chaff or the elderly pair from Six. Not yet, anyway.
It's strange, but in a way, the Games have helped me. At least now I have something to live for. There is nothing left in my life, not now, not since I was a young man. My family are gone, half through the natural toll of district life, half through the Capitol, whose hand I forced all those years ago. But I'd prefer not to think of those times. That's why I have the spirits.
I tried to build a new life for myself in District 5 after the Games, but I found that I no longer fitted in with the people of my home. I made a few new acquaintances - mainly the other victors of District 5 - but acquaintances was all that they ever were. Over time, we grew apart, or they simply died. I was the only victor of my generation.
Jared, our district's first victor, died a few years back, when I was in my late twenties. At that point there were four of us; Jared, Dax, Yvonne and myself. Now, I look at who we have left and wonder if soon there will be no living victors from District 5. With Yvonne and myself in the arena and Dax as our mentor, we may soon be down to one. And Dax doesn't have many years left in him, either. I don't mean to sound pessimistic or cruel, but it's true. He's an old man now, a shell of the vibrant, young man he once was. Or so they say. His Games were shortly after the First Quarter Quell, so I guess that makes him almost seventy. A decent age in the districts, there's no doubt about that. But even with the Capitol's aid, he's got a decade left at most. Outside of the Career Districts, sixty is a good age. Very few reach eighty.
I like to think that I managed to hold myself together until my early thirties, but I know that it's not the case. After Jared's death, I tried again to get involved in district life, marrying at thirty-two. The marriage helped me through a difficult period in my life, until it ended four years ago under dubious circumstances. It's never been confirmed, but I know that the Capitol must have had something to do with my wife's death. It was too sudden, and no decent explanation was ever given to me. that being less, I expected no less from the Capitol medical assistants who told me that she was beyond saving.
That was what really broke me, I think. Since then, I've been a recluse, wallowing in my grief, right up until the Quell announcement, when my life was turned on its head once more. I remember coming to an uneasy agreement with Yvonne that we should help get each other back into shape for the Games, despite the fact that we would eventually become enemies. Even now, I'm not sure if it was a good move or not. It may have helped me, but I doubt I could ever kill her now. In that sense, the decision to train with her has weakened me emotionally.
But at least now I can go down fighting.
The arena appears in front of me as my pedestal reaches the top of the cylinder, and I find myself surrounded by water. This could be an issue to many tributes, but thankfully, I can swim. At least, I could. I haven't been in the water for at least a decade.
Looking up and around the arena, I take care not to be dazzled by the bright sun reflecting off of the water. The water itself seems to be a large lake, with white sands and then jungle beyond stretching out in every direction.
"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-Fifth Annual Hunger Games begin!" Claudius Templesmiths's voice booms out across the arena. I have less than a minute to decide where to go. The obvious choice would be the cornucopia. Looking in towards the shining horn, I can see it sitting on a circular, sandy island, with thirty metres of water between myself and the edge of the island. Radiating out from there are long sandy strips of land, like spokes on a wheel. The swim to one of these spokes would be quick, and from there I can run to the cornucopia. It'll be slower approach than most year's Games, which are often a race over dry land, but it's better than staying in the water all the way. Each spoke has two pedestals between it and the next, forming a circumference of tributes, all equidistant from both each other and the island and the cornucopia in the centre. In my wedge of the circle of tributes, District 1's Cashmere stands next to me on one side, and the sand strip is about as far to my left as she is to my right. Beyond the sand strip is Peeta Mellark, and I silently curse my luck for being stuck with two of the heavyweights of this year's Games. I'll most likely be fighting Peeta as I race up the sand strip to my left towards the cornucopia. I scan round the circle, but I can't see Yvonne. I assume the cornucopia must be obscuring my view of her.
Looking in towards the cornucopia, I can see the supplies stacked high at its mouth, drawing us in. I have to admit, in such an alien environment, I have little choice but to be drawn in towards it. I doubt I'll be the first to arrive, but this year it seems like there is enough by way of supplies to cater for us all. I find myself peering in towards the horn, desperate to pick choice supplies before I arrive, so that I waste little time in choosing. Once at the island, speed will be of the essence.
I'm concentrating so hard on identifying the various weapons that I can see through the heat haze when the gong goes off suddenly, stunning me into action.
I have no thought but to dive into the waves on my left as the Games begin for real.
A/N: If you enjoyed this chapter, please review! Constructive criticism is welcomed :)
