Chapter Seventeen.
Launch.
Hex Fillian; 13 years old.
District Seven Male.
He didn't want to leave.
When they had arrived at the Capitol, Hex hated it. He hated the people, with all the strenght he had left in him, for making him leave his family. His home, his best friend, everything that had once mattered to him was gone. All he had left was himself, Sedna, Blight and Johanna.
But now, that the big day had arrived, he didn't want to leave. Not really, anyway. The Capitol might have been many things, but at least, he was safe in there. No one was trying to kill him. In the arena, he would never have a safe minute.
You can handle it. You're not alone. Not anymore.
Oliver and Coulter. In a place that he never expected it, Hex had made friends. People that he would be able to count with, when the time came. When they were all fighting for their life in that arena, it would be nice to have someone that wouldn't betray him at first turn.
In the Capitol, Hex had changed from a scared little boy, to someone who thought that he knew what he was doing.
He had to be strong. Even if he was breaking, deep inside, he had to be strong because it wasn't just about him. It was about his parents, who had already lost one child. If they lost another one, if they lost him, then Hex didn't know what would happen.
His family would fall apart. All because he wasn't strong enough to realize what he had to do, and what was expected of him to do.
It wasn't child's play anymore. Back in District Seven, he could be whoever he wanted to be, without people bothering him about it. He was just Hex; the thirteen year old, Wyla's best friend, and his parent's only child. Curious, fun-loving Hex, who loved nothing more than to spend an afternoon with his best friend, throwing rocks into the river.
But he couldn't. In there, Curious, fun-loving Hex wouldn't last a minute, and he couldn't let that happen. He vowed that he would break people expectations of him. All they saw was the youngest's tribute, the one who wouldn't stand a chance when the Games finally started.
It was killing him. If there was anything that Hex had promised to do, if he was ever reaped for the Games, it was to remain himself. No matter what the Capitol did, he would remain himself. But back then, he was a boy, with hopes of being happy for the rest of his life.
In there, he saw how things truly worked out. He saw how people looked at him, mostly the Careers, like he didn't stood a chance. Even his own mentor, and escort, knew it. Hex, he was just a little boy, but he wanted to do something for himself while he still could.
He had to be strong. He didn't have his parents, or Wyla, to look after him while he was lost in his endless world of fun. In there, he only had himself and his emotions. And right now, fear was taking over him.
Last night, at the interviews, he had been filled with a sense of hope. He had an alliance with two stronger older boys, and he had scored higher than the boys from Five and Eight, who were sixteen and eighteen. His interview, well, he wasn't the most loved tribute. People still prefered the Career, stronger and trained and beautiful, but Hex had done his best.
He had let them all know, and now, it was all in his hands. It didn't mean that he wasn't scared, because he was. For the previous days, it was easy to focus on something else. But right now, minutes before they had to leave for the arena, Hex couldn't stop his hands from shaking.
He was already up, of course. He hadn't gotten any sleep in the previous, or in the nights before that. Every last second that Hex had, for the past few days, was spent thinking. About his family, about his strategy, even about his little sister. How he wished that she could have been alive, so their parents would have someone to be there with them when he died.
When - If he died, they would have no one.
That is why you have to fight, idiot. For them.
A gentle knock on the door told Hex that it was time. "Hex, sweetheart, it's time to go." Tatia's gentle voice echoed through the room. "Sedna is already up, and we can't deliver you both late."
"I'll be out i-in a second." Consider how much his hands were shaking, Hex was suprised that his voice came out so calm. Good, that was good. If he showed to people that he was ready, he could maybe start to believe that he was.
But he wasn't. Oh God. The tears started to blur his vision, but Hex had to blink them away. He couldn't cry, not there. He had his time to cry over the past four days, his time to mourn the death of the old Hex, and now it was time to act.
Act or die.
Taking one last look at what had been his room for the past week, Hex nodded. He had already taken a shower and brushed his teeth, for what could have been the last time, and all the time that he had was done with thinking. About his strategy, about his allies, and about what he had to do. He took a time to think about his family, about his little sister and Wyla, and say goodbye to them. From now on, they could only be on his heart, not on his head.
His head would have to be filled with the Games, and the best way to survive. For all that Hex knew, it would be over in less than one hour for him. His heart would stop beating, his eyes would close, and Hex Fillian would be no more. But the least he could do, was to know that he tried. That he did his best, even if it wasn't enough in the end. That way, he could die peacefully, because they would know that he did his best.
Looking at his reflection in the hallway mirror, Hex managed a weak smile. Somewhere, deep inside, he was still that boy from Seven. The one who had lost his little sister at such a young age, and the boy who did his best for his family. The Hunger Games were forcing him to grew up, but there was one thing that they could never take away from him, no matter how hard they tried.
The boy he used to be, and his memories of love, happiness and even sadness belonged to him, and no one else. They were buried deep down, giving him strenght to do what was necessary, but they were his. It was something that the Capitol would never get, no matter what. They could take his life away, but they could never get that.
Deep down, he wanted to believe that he was still little Hex. And he wanted to be, with every last bit of strenght that he had. He wanted to believe that he had kept the promise that he made to himself before he was reaped, and didn't allow the Capitol to change him.
They didn't change you. You just started to see things differently. He could have died as himself, but he didn't want to. He wanted to have a chance at surviving, and for what, he had to bury the boy from District Seven for a while. Maybe he didn't have to become someone else. He just had to be strong, and hang in there until it was over.
He wasn't even doing it for himself, it was all for them.
Wyla. His parents. His little sister. Home.
They were somewhere that only Hex knew, all of those precious memories. Somewhere where they would be able to give him strenght, but not get in the way when it was necessary. Could he kill? Hex didn't know the answer to that question just yet. Could Oliver and Coulter kill? He had no idea. But there was one thing that he knew, and that might have been the only thing that would make him survive.
He knew that he wasn't just a thirteen year old, destined to die in the Bloodbath. He was a boy, with hopes and dreams, but most of all, a big will to survive. And the more he thought of home, of the trees and the rivers and the faces of the people he loved, his will to survive became even bigger.
Maybe the Hunger Games weren't there only to destroy him, but to make him stronger. Maybe, they were there to show him that he had it in himself all along, no matter what other people said.
"I'm ready. Let's go."
Fabian Tanaka; 18 years old.
District Eight Male.
Fabian had made a decision.
All four days were now gone. He had trained, he had made an alliance, and now it was time for the Games. He was nervous, of course, but Fabian had decided to leave it all to fate. Every plan that he had made, it all come out the other way around. Fabian never wanted an alliance, but Woof and their escort told him that it was for the best.
He worked better on his own. Always had, and always would. When his sister left, he was the only there. The boy had died, and he was forced to become a man sooner than he should. It could given him an advantage in the Games. While most tributes were children forced to become soldiers, he was ready.
Not ready to die, but ready to face whatever the Gamemakers were about to throw at them. He had done his best, Fabian was sure of it. His training score wasn't good, but he had worked hard for it. They knew it. Woof and Cadell, Nikolai and Blaine and even Brooke.
If Fabian died, then he knew that he had tried his best, in absolutely everything. That was the only thing that he could do for them, for Harper and for their mother. To let them know that he had tried his best, that he had worked as hard as he could, even if was probably not enough in the end.
He couldn't do anything else. His destiny was in fate's hands, and whatever happened, he couldn't fight against it. Currently, all five of them were sitting on the dinner table, for what would probably be the last time. At least, for himself and Brooke. Cadell, Woof, and Emira would be there for the next year, and for the one after that.
No matter what happened to him and Brooke, they would stil be there. It was their duty to the Capitol, reap a tribute, watch them die and then do it all over again. If Fabian died, he would never have to deal with anything like that ever again. He wouldn't have to mentor children, maybe even people that he knew, and watch them die all over again and then bring their bodies back to their family.
"So brats, are you ready to die?" Cadell smirked, pouring over a drink for herself. Woof didn't matter to say anything to his daughter anymore, but Fabian could see the sadness in his eyes. That was the thing about Fabian. He might have been quite, but he noticed things that other people didn't. When others were bothered with their talking, Fabian noticed the things that other people worked so hard to hide.
"Cadell!" Emira's eyes widened. "That's not something you say to your own tributes, not minutes before they walk into the arena."
Cadell rolled her eyes. "Well, she's mine," She pointed at Brooke, who rolled her eyes in return. "I have nothing to do with the boy. But you and I both know, dearest Emira, that they are doomed to die. All twenty-three of them are, until there's one lonely soul that joins us."
"I think that I can take care of myself, Emira. Whatever Cadell thinks doesn't matter. We all have a chance, weak or strong." Brooke replied, taking another bite of her chocolate muffin.
Cadell was about to reply, after taking several sips of her wine, but all it took was one glance of Emira to shut her up. For now, anyway. "You two have a chance, no matter what anyone says. You have to use your brain and be smart."
Cadell cringed. "Yes, because their brain will be a shield when the Careers come after them." After taking one good look at both of them, Cadell sighed. "Look, you want an advice? Very well. When you step foot on that arena, you have to leave everything behind. Family, friends, hopes, dreams, all of that bullshit. It will only stop you from doing what you need to do, and get you a knife in the back."
Fabian looked down, feeling more nervous than before. Could he do it? Leave all of it behind? His family, all that he had been before? He didn't know, but Cadell was right. It would only slow them down.
"Eat everything you can," Emira said, after a while. "I don't suppose the arena will have much food, so it's good to pack up everything you can before we leave."
A hint of a smile appeared on Brooke's face. "Pack up? So we can take everything we want, right? I guess I'll just storm the kitchen for food and a few knives, and then we can leave."
Cadell smirked. "The girl got you good in that one, Emira." She turned to Brooke. "If you manage to get your ass back here, maybe we can even be friends."
"You can count on that."
Fabian ate as much as he could, but while drinking much water. It would be important, once they got to the arena, and if they managed to get out of the bloodbath. He would have to run, and to run more, he needed water.
When she finished her slice of apple pie, Emira stood up. "Well, it's time to go. Collect everything that belongs to you, and let's leave." Brooke took one more sip of her orange juice, and stood up, quickly following after Emira.
Cadell followed after them, and soon, it was only Fabian and Woof. Woof, well, no one truly bothered about him. Some said he went crazy when his only daughter volunteered for the Hunger Games, and some say he was more sane than most. But, in the end, all of them left him alone.
Taking one last look at the whole room; from the blue walls to the dinner table, still completely full of food, Fabian sighed. It was now or never. He had to leave everything behind, and enter the Seventy-Second Hunger Games as Fabian Tanaka, the District Eight Male Tribute.
He walked to the elevator, where the girls were waiting for him and Woof. When both of them entered, and the door closed, Fabian closed his eyes. Minutes later, they would be in the roof, with the other tributes, and the Games would start.
He could be dead in less than an hour. Fabian wondered if anyone would ever truly mourn him. His mother would fall back to the drugs, but maybe, Harper could mourn him. She was his sister, after all, and she owed that to him. After being gone for so long, all that she could do was mourn him.
He didn't hate her. Not really, anyway. She had done what a sixteen year old girl would do, and thought of herself. After all, where could she have gone if she had stayed with Fabian and their mother? No where. She did what was best and Fabian would have probably done the same, if he was in her place. She ran away, and she became someone, with love and a family, something that Fabian would have never had with their mother.
But he couldn't leave her. What kind of human being would he be, if he left his mother alone, without anyone to take care of her? It's true, she wasn't the best mother but she was still his mother.
You don't abandon family.
Nothing would ever take away the memory of his home, and of everything good in his life. Life was made of good and bad moments, Fabian realized. He had his good ones, and his bad ones, but that didn't mean that he ever stopped living.
Whatever happened, he had lived his life, good or bad, it had been his life.
Nothing would ever change that.
Kaneki Idris; 16 years old.
District Five Male.
They reached the roof.
Despite the fact that the sun burned Kaneki's extremely pale face, and the wind blowed his hair all around, he forced himself to keep his chin up. He couldn't let them see his weak side, he refused to let them see it.
He was the weakest tribute. Maybe even weaker than the little boy from Seven, who was the youngest, and was predicted to place 24th. Kaneki wasn't suprised when nobody wanted to ally with him, not really.
He was doomed to die. But still, with every step that he took towards that arena, there was a part of him that was still clinging to life. A part of him that told him that it was still possible for him to go home, to make things right with his family. To prove to the people he loved that he was still Kaneki, not some freak, like everyone thought.
Even there... even when his life was on the line, all that was on his mind was the goddamn blood.
It was the only thing that made him happy. Even their mentor, or Katarina herself, could figure it out if they looked closely enough. He spent entire nights with it, like an old lover that Kaneki couldn't get enough of, and always came back for more.
He wasn't sure why he started drinking blood. His own blood, for that matter. He cut himself, and then took a sip of his blood, over and over and over again, until he was satisfied. That was the thing, Kaneki was never satisfied. He finished, and five minutes later, he was back for more. The more Kaneki tried to fight it, the stronger it became, demanding for more.
Did he even deserve to live? You're a good boy, Kaneki. Hold on to that. His father's words had echoed in his head for the past few days, but he still couldn't understand. What good did his father saw in him? He was nothing. Kaneki Idris was nothing but a monster, destined to die in the Seventy-Second Hunger Games. He deserve it, though, Kaneki could agree with it. After all, what he did must have been considered a sin.
"Well, kiddos, this is as far as I go. I can wait with you until the hovercrafts pick you up, but that's it. After here, it's all up to you." Calla gave them both a sad smile, but Katarina simply shrugged.
"If he needs you, stay. But for me, you can go. We're not children anymore." Kaneki didn't like Katarina a single bit, but he had to agree that she was right. All the other tributes were lined up, some talking to each other and some on their own, but none of the mentors were there. It made them appear childish, and in the arena, it could only be a bad thing.
Kaneki gave Cara his best attempt at a smile. "You can go. We'll be fine."
Calla nodded. "Good luck." With that, the elevator door opened again, and Calla was gone. His mentor, the only that had ever looked at him with some kind of sympathy, was gone. Cheer up, Kaneki. You'll have to watch a lot of people disappear in the next few days, if you are going to live.
When he turned, Kaneki realized that Katarina was gone too. Of course she was.
He was alone. Like he always. Why did it still suprise him?
Keeping his eyes on the ground, Kaneki actually prayed that time would fly. That way, he could finally figure out his future. If he lived or died, if he won or losed, all of it would happen in that arena, and not in there.
"Tributes," A voice filled the air, coming form the speakers that were probably somewhere on the building. "Please board the hovercrafts. District One throught Six to the first hovercraft, and Seven throught Twelve to the second one."
Peacekeepers were placed at the opening of each hovercraft and when the tributes started to enter, they took a bit of blood. It took Kaneki all the strenght that he had left in his body to resist, and for that, he had to look away. He only allowed himself to relax when they were all in the hovercraft, sat and about to recieve god-knows-what.
Two women, both dressed in white with a mask over their nose and mouth, appeared at the door. One went to the first row of the tributes, and one to the other. It wasn't long until the woman reached Kaneki, a long syringe in her hand. "Give me your arm." It's over in seconds. Kaneki sticks his arm out, and the woman sticks the needle straight into his vein. A grey light glows for a moment, telling the woman that the tracker is set, and then disappears.
Next to him, Katarina curses when the woman sticks the needle into her arm. "No need to be so rude, lady. Some of us still know good manners, even if we're about to go into a death match." The lady ignored her completely, moving on to the boy from Six.
After that, Kaneki closed his eyes, ignoring everyone else around him. In one hour, it could all be over. Kaneki Idris would be no more, and his body would be sent home, in a wooden box. All of it would be over, for himself and for his family. They could finally forget that he ever existed, move on, and be happy.
He didn't want to die. Even if would probably be for the best, Kaneki didn't want to die. There was still so much he wanted to do, so much to say. He never tried to be better, because he thought people didn't care about him since the accident. But his father, he had to care, right?
You're a good boy, Kaneki. Hold on to that.
He was holding on to that, Kaneki realized, but he was also torn. One part of him wanted to give up, and die right after the Game started. The other one, however, wanted to fight. It wanted him to fight with every stenght that he had, and run, and make it back home. So he could tell his father that he was right to believe in him, that was a good boy, through and through.
Kaneki had no idea of how long they were flying. It could have weeks, months, until the hovercraft finally stopped and that was when the silence was broken. He could almost smell the fear, out of all twelve of them in that hovercraft, himself included.
No one wanted to die. Yet, twenty-three of them would.
The doors opened, and Kaneki could see twelve Peacekeepers lined up outside, waiting to enter. When the first one walked in, unbuckled the girl from One and took her away by the arm, Kaneki realized what was about to happen. Pigs for slaughter, indeed.
Soon enough the boy was taken, then Two, Three, Four and finally, one of the Peacekeepers unbuckled Katarina, took her by the arm, and dragged her away. When the Peacekeeper comes for him, Kaneki is ready. They walk, walk and walk until they reach a door with the label Kaneki Idris, District Five Male.
Once the Peacekeepers push him inside, Kaneki finally allows himself to breath. "God, Kaneki, you look awful. Do you really want the cameras to see you like that?"
His stylist, Meera, sat on a small couch with a magazine in her hand, but quickly dropped it when she saw him."I g-guess not." When she quickly brought him in for a hug, Kaneki noticed his surrondings. The room didn't have much. It was small, and to his left, were some small hooks on the wall, a plastic bag with Kaneki Idris, District Five Male in it. The arena outfit, probably.
Kaneki didn't know.
In the table next to the couch, was some food; a bottle of water, a few apples and some kind of candy bars. He wanted to eat, but at the same time, anything that he ate would surely come back up, a few seconds later.
"Okay, so, as you can see," Meera released him, poiting to several places. "That is your arena outfit. I didn't see it yet and well, no one but the Gamemakers knows what it is. We're not allowed to touch the arena outfits until you appear, y'know? We have some food over there, and there's the bathroom, if you have some last minute needs."
"I-I don't really want to eat anything, t-thank you." Meera sighed, walked over to the hooks, and brought the plastic bag with her. "Let's see what we have here, shall we?" She took out the first item, and passed it to Kaneki.
A black shirt, with all the buttons on the right place, presented itself to him. At first, Kaneki considered it too normal, but it could be a good sign. It meant that they were going anywhere too dangerous, right?
Keep thinking that, boy, and you won't even last to see another day.
He places it on the couch, and waits for the other item. Kaneki isn't really suprised when Meera takes out black trouses, that seem way too large for him. "It's supposed to be this way, I think. I gave them your sizes to everything, and if they sent it back like this, it means it's supposed to be this way."
Kaneki quickly nodded, and headed to the bathroom, to change. He took of his own clothes, but for a moment, he noticed his own reflection in the mirror. His scars were everywhere; from his back to his chest to his arms. But they were also a part of him and reminded him of where he came from and where he truly belonged.
When he walked back to the room, however, he noticed that there was still more to the outfit. Knee-high black boots, that probably wouldn't be good for running, only to keep his feet warm. He changed his current shoes for them, and Meera handed him the last two final pieces of his outfit.
The jacket was black, just like the rest of the outfit, and it had a hood that was probably big enough to cover Kaneki's entire face. "It has a fur," Meera explained, when he dressed it up. "And black reflets the heat. So I say it will pretty cold in where you are going to or pretty hot, and it's only to make it even hard for you."
Hot or cold. Hard or difficult. Decisions, decisions.
"And last but not least," She handed him some sort of black glasses. "We have this."
Kaneki turned to her. "What is this for?" Meera just shrugged. "I have absolutely no idea. Could be just an acessory, but I doubt it. It must have a purpose. Everything in the arena does, after all. I just you keep it in your pocket for now, God knows what kind of stuff it can do."
Soon, the same robotic voice that ordered them to enter the hovercrafts, echoed through the room. "Sixty seconds until launch."
Oh God. Kaneki's hands started to shake, and he could feel the tears blurring his vision. He really, really didn't want to die. God, he didn't deserve to die, did he? He was just sixteen, with a whole life ahead of him. He might have done bad things in the past, but he didn't deserve that.
He wanted time to change, and instead, fate gave him the Hunger Games.
Meera leads him to the tube on the other side of the room. "Good luck, Kaneki. I'm counting on you." As soon as the words leave her mouth, the tube closes.
For a second, all he has is silence, and memories of District Five flashing back in his head. The tube starts to rise up, up, up and up...
Please. I don't wanna die.
And it stops. At first, Kaneki can only think that his outfit truly matches the arena, and ahead of him, he can only see two things.
Darkness. Death.
"Let the Seventy-Second Annual Hunger Games begin!"
A/N: I really don't know what to say. This chapter was a bit hard to write, and I'm not really happy with it, but eh. It's done, and next chapter, we start the interesting part of the Games. Damn. To be completely honest with you all, I never thought I would make it this far. To the launch chapter, and to the Games! Wow. It's a suprise for me, as a writer, but I couldn't have done it without all of you.
Since we start the Games next chapter, I wanna take the time to thank everyone who reviewed, submitted, followed, favorited, etc. It means a lot to me, and I wouldn't have made it here without all of you. A massive thank you, and I hope you stay around to see the rest of the story.
Next chapter, people start to die. I can't apologize, because all of us know the odds when we submit, but I'm sad to see some of them go. I love all twenty four of them, from Alexa to Tyson, and they're one of the reasons I made it this far. It's sad for me to see them go, but it's the Hunger Games, and what's a story without any deaths? I hope you stick around if your tribute died, but if not, thank you for reading this far.
By the way, I have to say, I wrote the bloodbath before this. It's all done, and was completed like a week ago. The faster it comes, depends on the number of reviews. If I know that people read this, I can update it. So if you want the Bloodbath maybe this weekend, you know what to do. ;)
Anywayssss, questions:
Who do you want to die?
Who do you think will die?
Any guesses on what the arena is?
See you soon, with the start of the Seventy-Second Hunger Games!