A/N: Thanks to RealFiction, mangesboy01, PrincessLyoka and krikanalo for reviewing! The support is appreciated :)
Here's the first chapter of the Quell from the perspective of a Career. I hope you enjoy it :)
"It's holding me, morphing me
And forcing me to strive
To be endlessly cold within
And dreaming I'm alive."
- Matthew Bellamy, 2003.
The 75th Annual Hunger Games (The Third Quarter Quell) - Day 1, 11.15 am
Cashmere Adlington (27), District 1 Female (victor of the 63rd Annual Hunger Games)
Muse - Hysteria (2003)
"Do it."
Seeder's short plea for death is enough to stiffen my resolve and I slit her throat with ease, the way I was taught to all those years ago in District 1's Training Centre. Her eyes roll backwards up into her head and the first cannon sounds, signalling the end of the bloodbath.
I look up to see the first hovercraft arrive to collect the bodies that we threw out into the water. Scanning the waves now tinted purple with blood, I count seven bodies. Add the dead woman's body beneath me and that makes eight. At one time, I had expected more. I guess a couple of injured tributes, such as the man from District 3, got out alive.
"I'll take care of this," says Brutus, lifting Seeder's limp body over his shoulder and laying it down in the water. We stand together for a few moments staring out into the sea as Seeder's body moves further and further from us. By now most of the bodies are out of the water. Any reminders of the conflict that occurred here this morning will soon be gone.
It's such a waste. It really is. These were all people who have been through the horrors of the arena once, just I have. Most can come out alive once with some ties to their former self, but a lot are completely ruined by the arena, like Haymitch, Annie or Blake. Putting any of them in for a second time is unfair. They've had their share of challenges in life. And those that have survived it turn to the other victors for support, as they are the only few others in the world who can understand what it's like to go into the arena.
And now they have turned us against each other.
I was better than most after the Games. The youngest victor of all, at the time of my Games. I had volunteered for the glory. I wanted fame and riches. And, for a few years, I could enjoy it. But, like my brother after me, years of being used and abused by the Capitol ever since the Games ended left me ruined by the 70th Games. It's not so much that we doubt our actions in the arena (although I do doubt mine), but we question whether volunteering for the Games was really worth all the suffering caused thereafter.
I suppose, in a way, I wonder if my actions in the arena were justified. I trained for fame and fortune, and actually enjoyed my time in the arena before. I enjoyed being in the limelight, where I knew everyone was watching my every move. But having experienced life as a victor after the Games for the past twelve years, it's not all that it's cracked up to be. I know already that I won't enjoy the arena this time around like I did before. This is just a job that needs to be done to keep myself alive.
"Know where we're heading next?" Enobaria asks, walking up behind me and Brutus as the final body is lifted into the sky.
"I've no idea," I say truthfully. With all the action of the bloodbath, I haven't given any thought as to where to go next. I'm just glad that all four of us are still alive. I was worried that the advantage of the Career Pack would be ruled out as everyone here is an experienced killer, but it seems that we are still the dominant force. Not only that, but we almost got through the arena completely unscathed. Only my brother Gloss has a minor injury,. having taken one of Katniss' arrows in his calf. Having seen her shoot during training, I know that Katniss is possibly the largest threat of all this year. She's with Finnick, the other major threat, and surely they will rival us for sponsor support. Still, we have the numbers advantage. They won't openly confront us. Not yet, anyway.
"We'd better gather everything we can from the supply pile before we go anywhere," Brutus suggests.
"We've gather all that we need," Enobaria replies. "There's just weapons there."
The three of us walk round to the front of the cornucopia, where Gloss is sorting the supplies into piles. It turns out that Enobaria is right. There are over twenty neatly-arranged piles lying in the sand, but all of them contain weapons. I walk over to one containing over a dozen knives and slip two more into my belt, before grabbing a wooden reflex bow from a separate pile and two quivers of arrows, a dozen in each. There's some debate as both Gloss and Enobaria reach for the remaining knives and daggers, a battle of words which Enobaria finally winds. My brother ends up with two, while Enobaria takes the rest to offer ranged support to out group.
If you ever needed to assemble a team of the four greatest victors of all, you wouldn't overlook the four of us. Sure, if you asked for the four greatest, some of us would be overlooked, but as a foursome, I can't think of another group that would rival us. I can imagine the plan of attack already, and it brings a smile to my face. I'm not pleased about the suffering that we will ultimately cause, but I know that if we stay together, we'll go far in these Games.
Looking out at the arena, I can see plenty of cover, either under the waves or in the dense underbrush of the forest that extends beyond the water in every direction. This is perfect for Gloss, the silent assassin. He can use his stealth to sneak in upon a group of tributes and grab an easy, unsuspecting kill, raising hell. We'd send Enobaria in with him to provide as distraction as Gloss makes his escape and I'd provide covering fire for Enobaria with my arrows and knives. With Enobaria holding the attention of whoever's unfortunate enough to be the target of our ambush, we'd unleash Mr. One-Man-Army himself, Brutus Cato, to charge in and deal the final blow.
I smirk again as I think of our unstoppable combination and, in a strange way, I'm looking forward to putting our plans to good use.
"We'd better get rid of whatever we don't need," Gloss suggest, looking down at the myriad of weapons we stand around. "We can't carry all of this, and its best not to risk letting other tributes get their hands on any of this."
"You're right," Brutus says thoughtfully. "We can throw them deep in the water, where no tribute will risk diving down to reach them. Enobaria, come and give me a hand with some of these maces. They're rather heavy..."
The tributes of District 2 carry the first load of weapons to the water's edge, leaving me alone momentarily with my brother.
"I guess we'd better help," he says, reaching down to pick up a bow identical to my own.
"I suppose so," I shrug, and begin to help him.
As I follow Gloss down the slopes of the small island with the first load of weapons, my mind drifts back to the one thing that has been on my mind for the last week, ever since the reaping. This is only the second time that a brother and sister have both competed for District 1 in the same Hunger Games. The last pair, a due called Glitz and Glamour, died fighting in the First Quarter Quell fifty years ago. I've seen the First Quell a few times on television. Glamour deserved to win that year. Which turns my attention to my current predicament. As far as I'm aware, Gloss and I are the only twins to have ever competed together, but I know that the Capitol will make no allowances for us. It will go down as a tragedy, but they will do nothing to help us. If only Katniss and Peeta hadn't faked double suicide last year. We could've used that as a way to get the Gamemakers to save both of us. But this year, after what happened to Seneca Crane last year because of his decisions, I get the impression that Plutarch Heavensbee would blow us sky high.
And so, I am left to admit the fact that someday, somehow, I will be forced to fight my brother.
Well, it's either that or we both die.
A/N: If you enjoyed this chapter, please review! Constructive criticism is welcomed :)
I know it's going to be yet another side-project, but I've been inspired this morning to start yet another side-project to this story.
This one won't be a community project like the other two and will be considerably shorter, but I'm considering making a de-fictionalisation (of sorts) of the programme handed out to the audience at the interviews for the Third Quarter Quell. Inside it would include profiles for all the victors and mentors in the Games, talking more about their lives after the arena, which hasn't really featured at all in this story.
If anyone thinks this would be a good idea and would be interested in reading it, then please let me know :)
