Chapter 71:

Velour Thurston, District Eight, Age 16

Victor of the 146th Hunger Games

Velour slaps a hand over his mouth to try and cover up his shaking breaths as he hides underneath a small metal cart, but he's absolutely horrified right now. He can feel the tears forming and quickly squeezes his eyes shut to stop them, but if anything that just makes it worse because his mind keeps replaying over and over again the image and sound of a girl getting her head drilled into by that sadistic fuck from Five. What the fuck even is this arena?! That new Head Gamemaker is a sick twisted man for doing this to them.

No weapons. Just whatever tools they could find around the hospital. He knows the careers set up base in the operating rooms, having their choice of whatever tools they want to use. Who needs knives when you have scalpels and saws? But clearly they weren't the only ones who found stuff.

He slowly moved out from under the table with the drape hiding him to peek over the edge of it, trying to see if he was followed or not. He isn't sure if he was spotted or not, but he really hopes he wasn't…

With shaky hands, he looks around the room, just trying to hold it all together. He's horrified, absolutely traumatized to the core, and just wondering if it would almost be easier to just lose instead of winning after witnessing all of this… But fuck, he can't just give up, not after seeing that painful hope on Barathea and Astrid's faces that maybe this year will be the year they bring home a victor.

And so he puts his shaky hands on the table and slowly pushes himself up from hiding, at least until the cart rolls away from him. And before he can catch it, it crashes into the wall with a loud metallic bang that echoes down the hallway.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Velour mutters as he looks around the room, trying to find somewhere to hide, but feeling like a fucking idiot for dong that and announcing his location to everyone nearby. Yet he's in a fucking operating room with only one way in, and he can hear the hum of the power drill and footsteps thundering towards him, leaving him with no other option but to try and fight his way past a sadistic psychopath with a drill.

Oh he is so fucked!

A scalpel won't do any good against him, so Velour quickly grabs one of the oxygen tanks next to the operating table, trying to heft it up to use as a weapon just as Jaime steps into the room, stopping to face him with a sick twisted grin on his blood splattered face. A look that is enough to make Velour's stomach drop, and yep, definitely piss himself. Great, he's going to die and be known as the one who pissed himself…

"I knew you couldn't hide from me," Jaime says with a laugh as he presses the button on the drill a couple times threateningly, and Velour starts trembling a little bit. "Come on, it will be easier if you don't fight."

"N-n-no," Velour says, shaking his head at him, but he's shaking and it's a clear giveaway that he is not at all prepared to fight him.

Jaime just lets out a loud sigh at that and tuts at him, before shrugging. "Your loss," he says before turning on the power drill and lunging towards him.

Velour cries out at that as he tries to sidestep him and swing the tank at him, but it's so heavy he has to use both hands and he's so slow that Jaime can easily dodge him. And Jaime jabs the drill at his stomach, making Velour cry out at the sharp pain and drop the tank immediately, only making Jaime laugh even more. Velour grabs at his side as he takes a couple steps back from him, not having very much room to move in here, as he tries so hard to not start crying or throw up at the pain.

"Just give up," Jaime taunts him as he starts circling him a little bit, and yeah, Velour certainly is considering that. Because looking around the room, there aren't many options available to him to use as a weapon that he can easily grab. But…fuck, he can't die like that, that girl was still screaming for so long after Jaime started drilling into her… Jaime waits a moment with an expectant look, almost expecting him to actually just lay down and let him kill him. "Fine, suit yourself."

Velour cries out at Jaime lunging towards him, tackling him to the ground in a scuffle. He just barely grabs Jaime's wrists, holding back the drill aimed at his face, but Jaime is pushing back at him with his full weight and it's inching ever so slightly closer and closer. Velour whimpers in fear at dying like this and he just keeps pushing back, trying to gain some ground on him, but it almost seems pointless. No, he cannot die like this… He lets out a cry as he starts kicking and fighting under him, doing anything in his panic to get out from under him.

And somehow, he does manage to throw Jaime to the side, still holding onto his wrists with the drill, and it isn't until blood starts splattering his face and Jaime screams out that he realizes he's managed to push the drill into his chest. Velour lets out an animalistic cry as he pushes further, just needing to hear that cannon fire, know that sadistic fucker is dead. And when it finally does, he moves back, staring in horror at what he just did to him.

He knows Jaime deserved it after he killed that girl and who knows who else like this… But fuck, it's a horrifying sight, and Velour's quickly heaving and throwing up the little bit of food that he has managed to get. He heaves and heaves and heaves until he's just dry heaving, nothing left in him, and his eyes burn with tears, his nose filled with the metallic smell of blood in the air.

He doesn't want to win like this, kill like this…

Yet he doesn't have a choice. That becomes painfully obvious when a panel in the ceiling opens up and a small sponsor gift drops in front of him. Just a little bit of food to replace what he lost, but the message is clear.

Keep killing like that and he'll make it out alive.

And that's how you get some Serious Trauma (TM) from your Games!

Move the countdown to five updates left. Next update will be in over a week as I travel for work. But worth the wait for that because I am :excited: (if you know, you know).