DISCLAIMER: Most of the dialogue in the second half of this chapter belongs to Suzanne Collins. It is taken directly out of The Hunger Games.
Cato’s PoV
“The only other team who can do this is… Katniss and Peeta,” I say, horrified of the possibility that they could make it out of here alive in place of us. It shouldn’t scare me. The days spent training ever since I was five years old…I can’t be scared.
“That puny little weakling can’t do anything with a wound like that,” Clove reassures, her teeth clenching together in hatred.
“We both know he’s not dead. If he’s survived this long, who knows?”
“Katniss is the real problem.”
“Katniss is scared of everything.”
“But she can shoot an arrow with perfect aim,” Clove says, “Within a split second either of us could be dead.” A pang hits my heart once she mentions the word ‘dead’. The word has never fit in well with me, especially here and now, with Clove.
“Don’t be so pessimistic.”
“Says you.” She smiles. “But can you let me kill her?”
“Hm…maybe,” I tease, pressing my finger against my bottom lip, pretending I am contemplating the idea.
“Come on, Cato!” She stomps on the ground, complaining in a whiny voice. Clove pouts, pursing her lips in a disappointed manner.
“Okay, okay. Only if you promise one thing.”
“And what’s that?” She tilts her head.
“You promise me a good show, that is.”
“Cato, of course I will. That Katniss will writhe in pain as I slice my knife into her crying face.”
Nonchalantly, I ask, “Who’s left?”
With a meandering smile, Clove replies, “Thresh, the lovers and that girl with the red hair.”
“Thresh, hm. What to do, what to do. I’m a better fighter, it’s just that he’s bigger.”
“You can take him.”
Sighing wind swirls in the air, catching in Clove’s dark hair. Squeaking and screeching echoes in the arena after a symphony of trumpets. It’s an announcement. Claudius begins by inviting the tributes to The Feast, a vital part of the Games where most of the remaining tributes have their lives come to an end. The Feast also meant you received what you need most in the games, or what you are lacking of, it can be food, water, weaponry, armour or anything among those lines.
“Now hold on. Some of you may already be declining my invitation. But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you needs something desperately. Each of you will find that something in a backpack, marked with your district number, at the Cornucopia at dawn,” he adds.
I must prepare myself for this. It is an event of life or death, our only chance of survival or our very cause of death.
“What’s the plan, Clover?”
“I bet Katniss will make a run for her stuff, it’s for Lover Boy anyway. I’ll get the backpack; you stay behind in the forest, watching me in case anyone, you know, tries to kill me. You can also kill whoever you see, I guess.”
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A Thousand Years. (A Clato Fan Fiction) {Editing}
FanfictionCato is a brutal, ferocious killer. Clove is a sneaky, conniving killer. They both seem to hate each other but in reality, they secretly love each other. Once they both finally realise their love, their whole world turns upside down when they both...
