Juliana Bruta, 16

District 9 Female

"Again!" my dad shouted. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and lunged forward, swiping with my machete and cutting into my mom's padded armor. She slashed back and I barely sidestepped the strike. We whirled and danced, blades flashing in the dim lighting, but finally I gained the upper hand and pressed my dull weapon to her throat.

"Nice work," she said, gently pushing the blade away.

"Your footwork was a bit sloppy though," my dad said. "When you strike, you need a better stance, and when…"

I tuned him out, putting my weapon back on the rack and running a hand through my messy black hair. I desperately needed a shower, but my mom would probably claim it first. We only had one tiny bathroom in the bunker.

I'd lived in this underground bunker my whole life. We left a few times a week to run errands and get some fresh air, so I wasn't completely trapped, but it was a confining feeling, being stuck down here so often.

My parents were more than a little paranoid, especially about the Hunger Games. They wanted me to win them more than anything, and had finally deemed me ready. District 9 already had two recent victors, and they were determined for me to be the third. And I had to admit that I was somewhat excited. I'd get to see the Capitol, meet new people, and try so many new things. Everything here was dull and monotonous.

"... Got it? Alright, good. Go shower." My dad finally finished his speech and I rushed off to the bathroom. The water was nearly frigid, since our hot water supply was weak, but I was used to it. Though I'd always dream of hot water to soothe the bruises and sore muscles I always seemed to have.

Once I was showered and changed, I flopped down on my bunk and stared at the ceiling. The bare bulbs flickered slightly and I sighed. I loved them, and I knew that they knew best, but sometimes I wished my parents weren't so obsessed with the Games. I wanted to go to school. I wanted friends. I wanted a normal life.

My parents retreated to their small bedroom and I took the chance to open the trunk at the end of my bed and fish out a small box. Inside were my wood carving tools. My parents knew about my hobby, but they didn't know what I carved; friends.

Abigail was my best friend. She was the first figurine I'd carved; she was tall, with long hair and glasses and a big smile. She was funny and loved to crack jokes. Bryan was her boyfriend, but we were all close. He was big and broad-shouldered, but was a total sweetheart who'd never hurt a fly. And then there was Jesse. They were like me; dedicated and determined, but lonely. So lonely.

Vasir Lamar, 13

District 9 Male

I tapped my fingers against the table, fighting the urge to tune out the conversation. The Faceless Brotherhood's latest heist had gone extraordinarily well, and tonight was supposed to be a night of celebration. But Torus thought it had gone too well, and called an emergency meeting.

"...skilled. That's why it went well," Valence was saying. The brick wall of a man was leaning back in his chair, a frown on his face.

"I'm telling you, there was something off," Torus insisted. His fingers were knotted together and his face was pale.

"We'll be on the lookout for the next little while," Tenji said. "But I don't think we have anything to worry about." Torus nodded, still looking upset, but Tenji's word was law.

My brother became the leader of the Brotherhood two years ago, when our previous leader, Anomaly, was killed in a Peacekeeper raid. We'd been loyal members of the Brotherhood since I was five and Tenji was sixteen, so it only made sense that he'd be second in line.

We all got up from the table and Tenji came over to ruffle my hair. I scowled at him and batted him away playfully.

"Great job on the break-in," he said. I beamed at him.

"Thanks."

The boys were breaking out cans of beer, so Tenji went off to join them. I wanted to join as well, but he didn't let me drink. The other underage boys could, but Tenji was sensitive about alcohol. While I didn't remember our mother very well, he did, and she was a cruel drunkard. Tenji himself would probably only have a few sips.

We were all talking and laughing when the lights suddenly went out. I heard a thud, and then several spotlights pierced the darkness. One illuminated a burly figure and I gasped. Peacekeepers!

"Peacekeepers!" Valence shouted. A gun went off and someone shouted in pain. I backed up against the wall and crouched down, my heart beating wildly. Torus was right. This was a set-up. I felt my way along the wall to the light switches, trying to ignore the shouts and screams around me. As soon as I felt the switch I flicked it up, illuminating the room. Then something hit me in the back of the head, and everything went black.

When I opened my eyes again, a headache pounding in my skull, I was in a jail cell. There were two cots, an open toilet and sink, and a barred cell door. And a familiar boy. Axon left the Brotherhood a few months ago, saying he was ready to start a new chapter of his life. We'd kept tabs on him, but he never did anything, so we got lax. It was clearly a mistake, judging by the guilty look on his face.

"What happened," I demanded, my voice hard and cold.

"The Brotherhood was arrested," Axon said quietly. "Since you're so young, you were brought here. Everyone else is being transferred to a prison in District 7."

"Did you snitch," I hissed, getting up and approaching him. Axon backed against up the wall.

"N-no," he stammered, but I could tell he was lying by the way he was sweating and avoiding eye contact. I was reeling back to punch him when the cell door opened and a Peacekeeper came in. Axon used the distraction to scurry away.

"Alright Lamar," the Peacekeeper said, twirling a baton in his hand. "You have two choices. You can tell me everything you know, or you can die."

"You have nothing on me," I snapped. "You can't execute me."

"I never said anything about execution," he said smugly. "Today is reaping day."

Oberon Murdoch, 20

District 9 Victor of the 55th Hunger Games

"Dakota, you need to calm down. It's only for an hour." Ceres looked frustrated, an annoyed frown on her face.

"I don't care. I'm not wearing this… thing!" Her voice sounded disgusted as she poked at the tulle on her dress. Her stylist had decided to put her in a poofy pink dress, and Dakota absolutely hated it. I could see why, and honestly, I was shocked they'd wrestled her into it in the first place. She was incredibly stubborn.

I appreciated it too. It was a nice reminder that I wasn't something to be used. I was a person who deserved to be treated as such. Dakota always made it clear that she was to be respected. Though she didn't have Snow breathing down her back the way I did.

"Wear this?" I suggested, shrugging off my sweater. It would be big on her, but it might calm her down.

Dakota's dark eyes met mine and I thought she was about to yell at me, but then she reached out and snatched the sweater. She shrugged it on and gave a nod of approval. Ceres sighed heavily and ushered us to the door. It was time.

Amity Knox, District 9's escort, strutted onto the stage. Her hair was done up in an intricate braid and she was wearing a slinky purple dress with sleeves even puffier than Dakota's. Her makeup was dark and her lips were nearly black.

"I'm back in District 9!" she said excitedly. "We've had such a good run; let's see if we can bring home another victor! But first, please join me in welcoming our past victors!"

The crowd cheered as the five of us walked out onstage. Ceres waved, but everyone else was quiet and stoic, including me. We sat down in a line, after dragging a chair off to the side to make room for Dakota. The Peacekeepers always seemed to forget or ignore that she was in a wheelchair.

When the applause died down, Amity pressed a button to play the video we watched every year. I looked over at Dakota, who was scowling fiercely at Amity. I felt a bit concerned for a woman. Hell hath no fury like Dakota. Regan seemed to be the only person she didn't snap at.

The film came to an end and Amity clapped her hands together excitedly.

"Now it's time for what you've all been waiting for! Shall we start with the ladies?"

Amity took her time selecting a slip, finally pulling one out from the bottom.

"Angelica Grisholm!" she called out.

There was a scream from the 15-year-old section, but then a buff, olive-skinned 16-year-old stepped forward.

"I volunteer!" she said loudly. Angelica faded back into the crowd of girls as the volunteer climbed the stairs to the stage.

"What's your name, young lady?" Amity asked, holding out the microphone.

"Juliana Bruta," the girl said.

"Congratulations Juliana! Now, let's select your district partner."

This time, Amity picked a slip from the top of the pile and unfolded it with great gusto.

"Vasir Lamar!" she cried.

For the second time, someone screamed. And they didn't stop. It seemed to be coming from the younger boys' section, and two Peacekeepers moved in when no one stepped out of the crowd. They dragged a scrawny, shaggy-haired boy out from amongst the 13-year-olds. He was kicking and screaming, and I bit down on my lip in worry.

The Peacekeepers positioned him on the stage next to Amity and Juliana, where he stood, sniffling. Juliana held out her hand to him without being prompted, and he shook it, a pathetic look on his face.

"Panem, I give you your District 9 tributes: Juliana Bruta and Vasir Lamar!"

Hey everyone! I'm here with another intro chapter; this time District 9! Thank you to DigitalZarathustra for Juliana and ladyqueerfoot for Vasir. Please leave a review and let me know what you think of these two! I certainly liked writing them. And we got to see Oberon, my Chaos Reigns victor. I was excited to write him and Dakota together. I may even write a one-shot with them... and now I am rambling. I'll stop now. Anyways, please review, and thanks for reading!

Have a nice day, be kind to each other, and never stop reading!

- Fiona