Chapter 12:

Theo Crowley, District One, Age 16

Victor of the 87th Hunger Games

Theo doesn't know if his lungs can take one more day in this dusty ass arena. He's sure the Capitol is loving the tributes in the Wild West, but Theo just wants to be anywhere else than here. At least they were kind enough to give them a bandana to wear with their ridiculous cowboy costumes. He swears, that's the only thing that's stopped him from having a damn asthma attack when they wouldn't let him bring his inhaler as his token.

Bastards. If he goes down in history as the tribute that died from asthma, he will make sure to haunt the President and Gamemakers for the rest of their lives.

Theo pulls down the bandana as he sits on the edge of the well, taking a slow sip of water to replace all the water he's lost sweating in this damn arena. Dusty and hot…fun wow, he loves it so much. He'd rather be in the stupid disco arena from last year. Theo lets out a sigh, wishing there were less tributes left. They've just past the halfway point, yet he's ready to be out now. He's tired of this heat making him sweat all day. He's tired of the dust threatening his lungs. And he's tired of wearing damn chaps that thankfully aren't assless.

Maybe if he actually went and looked for tributes more instead of sitting around complaining about the arena, he'd get out of here sooner. But the thought of walking around all day and not finding someone sounds more unpleasant than waiting at a water source with a trap in place.

"Freeze, partner."

"Partner?" Theo can't help but scoff and laugh at whoever is playing along with this arena enough to say partner. But when he glances over his shoulder, his smile very quickly fades away when he sees who it is.

Of course…the one person Theo didn't want to run into in this arena.

Theo slowly turns his body to look back at Bertha – what a name, never change District Ten – the eighteen year old girl pure muscle from wrangling bulls. Like Theo knows he's not lacking when it comes to muscles, but he doesn't even come close to her. If there's anyone that belongs in this specific arena, it's her.

Bertha holds an old wooden revolver at him and Theo slowly sets his canteen of water down beside him before holding his hands in front of him. "Slowly move the water over to me."

"This well is full of water," Theo tries to reason with her, not wanting to give up his precious water canteen. "You can have full control of it."

"I will after your death," Bertha says as she gestures to the water canteen with her revolver before cocking it, the sound making Theo freeze up. "Now give it to me."

Theo stares at the gun, trying to know if he's about to royally fuck up or if he can get out of this absurd situation. When Bertha gestures with it again, he spots the fingerprints of blood on the side of it and he slowly smiles at her and shakes his head. "I'll pass."

"Bastard," Bertha says before she pulls the trigger.

Bang!

Theo winces for a moment at the sound of the gun firing, before laughing in amusement at the gun just having a flag hanging from it saying 'Bang!' Of course the Capitol doesn't want them killing each other with guns, despite it fitting the arena. The deaths would be too fast and not enough action. Theo already made the mistake of using the gun and luckily it cost the other tribute his life. And now it's going to cost Bertha hers.

Theo moves quickly as Bertha stares at the gun in confusion quickly turning to anger, reaching for the whip at his side hidden from her and lashing out at her face. Bertha yells out in pain and drops the gun as she steps back to clutch her face. Theo tackles her, surprising both of them when he knocks her to the ground, and they begin to tumble as they both try to get the upper hand to choke the other out.

But Theo really should have just taken the loss and ran away from Bertha instead of fighting her, and soon she is on top of him and choking him – kinky in any other situation – and as he gasps for air, he tries punching her stomach, anything to get her to let go. His hand brushes a knife as he starts running out of air and he grabs it and slams it into Bertha's chest.

Bertha lets go immediately and stumbles back as Theo gasps for air, clutching his throat as he watches her fall to the ground, bleeding profusely.

Boom.

Theo bursts out laughing at the fact that his plan actually worked – he really didn't think anyone would be a dumbass like him and fall for it – but soon starts coughing from his sore throat. He doesn't care though, he just took out one of the strongest tributes in the arena. Theo did! Oh if only he was at home to see the look on the face of his ex, he bets it's gold.

"Yeehaw, mother fucker," Theo whispers at her before quickly shaking his head and sitting up, embarrassed at himself. "Nope, never saying yeehaw again."

We have our next victor, Theo Crowley of District One! I am having fun with this time in the Games history with making the arenas as absurd and entertaining as possible compared to the ones I write in my SYOTs. Also Theo did make it out of the arena without having an asthma attack lol.

Not too much to say here about this chapter that I haven't said in the previous chapters lol. But as far as other stories go, I've recently started up a story following Darach's Games called Ashes, Legacy is chugging along and I've nearly written through the bloodbath, and Senseless is almost done and subs for the sequel, Renegades, are opening this Friday (April 24th!). So yeah, go check out my other stories if you haven't already because those will be updated a lot more frequently than this story lol.

See you whenever I get around to writing the next one lol XD