The flame of Panem
Prologue
"Sir, I'd like to run this year's arena by you, if that's OK?" Said the head game maker, Shadow, a Darkrai famed for his sadistic arenas and traps.
"Of course, Shadow. I always look forward to your ideas," replied the president, a particularly evil Charizard, black in color, named, rather ironically, Patience Blessed.
"So it may look like your basic ruined citadel, but the buildings are rigged to either explode or collapse at the slightest provocation, either from a high wind or a rainstorm, which will blow through the arena randomly, and only affect a certain area at a time. About twenty square meters at once and in a completely randomised order. There are safety bunkers for protection, spread randomly throughout the arena, two per quadrant, and they too are rigged to lock and either lose oxygen within 20 minutes or fill with pure oxygen and catch fire, which will happen at a later stage of the games, in order to cause maximum suffering and panic amongst the tributes. I just need the go-ahead from you," said Shadow.
"Do it," replied President Blessed. "I look forward to seeing the result of your scheme."
As Shadow bowed and left the room, his only thought was bringing an end to these games. He might have been known as the most sadistic head gamemaker in Hunger Games history, but that was by necessity, not choice, and sending 24 children into an arena to fight to the death until 23 were dead had always disturbed him. The rebellion was over 200 years ago. He was determined that this, the 216th iteration of the annual Hunger Games, would be among the last. He just had to find a tribute who would inspire the ultimate rebellion and bring down the government and end the games forever.
An. Shadow and other future characters belong to Blade the Sneasel, another author on here. And remember, reviews are an author's best friend. Please be gentle