N/A: I am so sorry I haven't updated lately. School is over, but I am preparing for high school and getting things ready. My sister has also been sick, so that also affects my updating. So thank you to all of you who have reviewed. I must say that I am really glad you all have liked the story so much! Finnick is adorable, isn't he? I want a Finnick. Where can I buy my Finnick? ANYWAY, so here we are, the cornucopia battle. The bloodiest part of the book basically. Okay I'm going to make a little microscopic alteration to the storyline. Instead of Annie being with the careers, as Suzanne Collins wrote, she's going to have a different twist of fate. Don't kill me. I'm talking to you Cato.

Thanks again for being so understanding. I hate growing up. Please review or rate or (if you want cookies) both!

Chapter 8- The First Battle of War

Annie's P.O.V

"Tributes, one minute to launch," the familiar mechanical voice announces.

My heartbeat pounds through my ears as I zip the leather jacket on. It's a snug fit, but after a couple of seconds of wearing it, I feel my body heat multiply and my toes warm over. The tight cargo pants I wear let the slight draft of the room break right through the thin material. Underneath the jacket, both a tank top and a tight long sleeved shirt layer my skin. I wiggle my toes to make sure the knee-high leather boots are slightly broken in.

"They said these tones would blend in to your surroundings," Camilia says as she adjusts the heavy jacket.

I nod. My hair is split into two different braids that fall under my shoulder blades. The tight braiding Camilia did starts at the top and trails down.

"Is this your token?" She asks, as she slightly lifts the sleeve from my wrist.

I look down, and see the old shell bracelet Finnick made me. It's worn-in now. I haven't taken it off since he gave it to me after his reaping. For four years, I have worn this thing. My little thirteen year old self accepted the gift. I barely noticed it was still there and attached because I wore it so much. I suppose it should be my token, especially since Finnick is so present in the oddly shaped shells.

"I guess so, it reminds me of home," I say silently. My voice wavers and I blush; I shouldn't look weak.

Camilia's turquoise hand rests on my cheek, "You're coming home."

I nod and fake a smile.

"Tributes, ten seconds to launch."

Camilia's eyes glaze over with, what I assume, are tears as I make my way to the see-through tube.

"Annie," Camilia says as the door starts to close. I turn around, "Remember who you are in there."

And with that, the tube is sealed off. I give a curt nod in her direction, promising on those words. I guess I should be nervous, but it hasn't sunk in yet. Even when the sun suddenly blinds me, my senses numb. I freeze over. My body becomes a shell and my mind races at lightning speed.

A strange mix of pine and salt water attack my nose. I look around and my heart sinks. The 23 other tributes surround me, as expected, and the cornucopia stands tall and overflowing with supplies. I look to the ground. Wet, thin grass spreads unevenly throughout, what I assume, the whole arena. The sky to the left is gray, rain clouds rumbling in the distance. To the right, the arena seems to end abruptly. It's as if there was a design flaw. It doesn't end in a curve as the other side does, and halfway down the wall, it turns black.

In front of me are thick oak trees scattered here and there. Plenty of space separates them. There's hardly any coverage.

My eyes scan the field in front of me. About five feet in front of me is a bundle of rope, and behind that is a box of matches. Useless. I look farther and spot a glimmering spear alongside a sheath of knives. Useful. Could I dart over there quickly enough to retrieve them? Am I taking on more than I can chew? I dart my eyes to the District 1 boy, Mars, who has also been eyeing my weapons. He doesn't notice my glance, but Demere does. He stands next to him. He meets my eyes and crooks his head to the right. Run this way, he seems to say.

Overhead, crackling of thunder shakes the arena. Slowly but surely, drops of cold water prick my skin. As if someone pressed a button, which they probably did, waves of rain begin to pummel the ground, soaking all of us immediately. Fortunately, our jackets keep out most of the water, but fighting in such conditions is going to be a challenge.

I look at the countdown. 30 seconds left. What am I going to do? Get a hold of yourself,a voice intrudes my thoughts. And while you're at it, get that backpack next to the matches too.

I look over at the matchbox again. The rain has soaked the little thing by now. A little more to the left is a plump backpack. Its contents seem to fill it almost completely. I need a weapon, I think to the voice.

Looks like you're going to have to kill for one, princess.

I gulp down a new lump in my throat as my strategy presents itself. My hands clench themselves at my sides. Could these hands kill? They are going to have to learn how.

10, 9, 8, 7….

I ready myself on my tiny pedestal and make contact with Demere once again.

6, 5, 4…

My heartbeat rattles my chest and my hands get clammy. I could die. A swift knife to the head, three second throw, and I'd be gone. My life would be over.

3, 2, 1.

The gong booms over the 24 of us. My feet work faster than my mind as I jump off my pedestal. My feet squish into the mud, sucking my boots in. With newly found strength in my legs, I get used to the terrain and learn to run through it.

"Get everything you can Lucius, we are going to need it." The boy from 1 barks his order to the boy from 2, Lucius, as they run to the Cornucopia.

I don't know how, but I beat them there. I guess it's my size that gives me a faster pace at running. My feet start to move mechanically as I grab the backpack in my hand and swing it over my shoulder. I stop for a brief second to look for Demere and make sure he's made it this far.

I lose my guard for five seconds. My mistake.

The girl from one jumps at me from behind. I don't know why she decides to attack me without a weapon, but I don't hesitate to fight back. Her legs attach at my hips with a strangling grip around my neck with one hand. The other hand rips at my hair, bending my neck back as if it was rubber. Before she can have the satisfaction of breaking the bone, I fall back to the ground with her body to cushion my fall. She whimpers as my weight impacts her against the hard ground. I hear two bones crack.

Her hands become loose from their deadly hold on me and I grab my backpack again. I can barely see ten feet ahead of me through this heavy rain. I bring myself to my feet and run to the spear and knives that, oddly enough, haven't been taken yet. Just as I bend down to retrieve the spear, a hand clamps on my shoulder and shoves me down to the ground.

The force brings white spots in my vision as I see the boy from 1, Mars, towering over me. He lifts his new sword up to bring it to my throat. I try to wiggle out from underneath him, but his large feet are on either side of me. The mud makes it even harder to move, capturing me in its hold.

"Anything you want me to tell Finnick when I head back to the Capitol?" he asks in a teasing voice.

I don't know how, but my hand makes contact with the hilt of something. I don't let him see what I have acquired, but I take a glance down. A mace. Those things are heavy as hell. When he starts to bring down the point of the sword, however, adrenaline numbs my mind and brings the heavy mace crashing to the boy's shin. He yells out in pain and brings his weight down to his good knee. I don't stop there. I tumble on top of him, grab a knife, and slash at his right arm, the one he uses for spear throwing. Blood oozes out of the deep wound that travels from his elbow to the tip of his pointer finger.

But I don't want to kill him. Not yet.

Instead, I take this moment to look around, and catch Demere's silhouette running to grab a smaller pack of his own. Mars wriggles from underneath my body, but is too weak to force any movement out of me.

Kill him you weakling. Kill him or be killed by him.

I force the familiar voice out of my mind and I stuff my backpack with the knives I wanted. Carrying my new spear in one hand, I leave Mars in a state of weakness that I'll probably never get to see again. Anybody else would surely kill him, especially with his size and skill. But the cut on his arm and deadly wound on his shin will surely infect his bloodstream if he isn't careful. And he won't be careful.

I run to Demere who has gotten himself into a feud with the girl from District 8. I take my knife, and without even hesitating, throw it at the back of her head. It makes full impact, sinking deep within the skull, and she falls dead.

I just killed someone.

Better get used to it, Princess, the voice responds.

Demere stands shocked as he takes in what I've just done. For a moment, fear flashes across his eyes. My heart drops at the sudden thought that Demere could be scared of me. But, to my surprise, a smirk of pride forms on his lips and he grabs his pack.

"Let's get out of here," he says, looking over my shoulder.

I bend down and grab a sword from the girl's hand and shove it into Demere's.

"Use it," I say shortly, and run into the trees ahead.

Cries of pain and suffering slowly become muffled as Demere and I run. We don't talk, we don't take breaks, we just run. The rain seems to settle down the farther we run away from the cornucopia. I don't know where we're going, but Demere looks like he does. I know I shouldn't trust him so much. I should be more guarded and not let him break down my fragile wall. Odds are one of us is going to be dead in the span of a few weeks.

After an hour or so of sprinting, Demere stops. He drops his pack and sword and slumps down against a tree. His breathing is uneven, and he looks surprisingly pale. Now that we've stopped, I feel my own bones turn weak. I pick a tree across from the boy and sit against my own.

Through his slit eyes, Demere looks at me intently. His glance is questioning, as if he's thinking about something.

"What?" I say impatiently, crossing my arms over my chest.

He smirks, "You just ran in there. You just ran in there like it was nothing."

"Why are you so surprised?" I ask as I unzip my backpack.

"You didn't seem like the 'run into the cornucopia' kind of girl."

"Yeah, well I needed stuff and I got it." He smiles as I empty the contents of my backpack on the ground.

A bundle of wire, two sticks of dynamite, matches, crackers, a pot of rice, tin foil, and a bottle filled with water come tumbling out. The dynamite is what catches my eye. I've never seen a tribute get this kind of weapon before. I've never used anything like this. I look up at Demere and his eyes widen. He crawls over to me and takes a stick.

"No way," he says as he inspects the thing. "This will come in handy."

I grab it out of his hand, "Are you kidding? We can't use these!"

"Why not?" he protests, "Do you know how many we can eliminate with just one?"

"Do you also know how loud they are? Setting one of these off is like sending a signal to everybody and letting them know where we are."

"There won't be anyone to listen if we use them right."

I stop at that. His use of words takes me by surprise. He's never said anything like that before.

I swallow before continuing in a more soothing tone, "Demere, these things are more dangerous than you realize. I still don't get why they gave it to us, but we have to be careful. If we get desperate, then we will use them. Deal?"

"Yeah, whatever," he says, crawling back to his tree.

He unzips his own backpack and empties the contents.

Boom.

I look up in shock as I realize the familiar sound of a cannon. The blood bath must be over. I count the sounds on my fingers as they go by.

Nine.

It's a low number, but I guess Mars and the girl from one wouldn't have been able to go on as long with the wounds I gave them. I smile as I think of the careers having to fight without them. They must think of themselves as useless, all by my doing.

"How many did you count?" Demere asks, rummaging through his pack.

"Nine."

"Only nine? Jeez, I was expecting more like twelve. Mars must have not gotten a sword."

"No, he got one. He just couldn't use it," I say proudly.

Demere shakes his head in disbelief, "I'm beginning to like this alliance."

"Yeah," I say. "Me too."