― 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

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chapter three: i don't want to survive, i want to win

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𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄. She resists the urge to gawk around in awe, like a child seeing the world for the first time— the interior of the train is really quite elegant. Though District Two is richer than the outlaying Districts, Visha has never seen anything so extravagant in her life.


The walls are deep purple and silver, and it looks as if President Snow himself owns the train. Technically speaking, he does, being the President of Panem and all, but the train really is fit for a princess. Visha's stomach growls in wonder as she gazes at the table in front of her, seeing that it is piled with finger foods and delicacies.


Plucking a small pastry from the table, Visha puts it in her mouth and pays no mind to Blake Damon, who has found a seat opposite to her. Instead, her eyes rest on the three past-Victors who, along with Delia Alodie, have just walked in. One is a tall redhead with shoulder-length hair, who looks to be in her late 20s. She is the only female Victor present. Visha remembers this Victor— she had won her games nearly a decade ago and her principle weapon had been the axe. Visha shudders internally, thinking of her own brother's death, which was by axe. The mentor on the right of the girl is also tall with short-cropped greying hair and a scruffly beard to match, and looks to be in his 40s. The last one is a year or two older than Visha, with wavy dark hair and hazel eyes.


All three of them sit down at the table.


District Two has an abundance of Victors, but these three were the most fearsome and most impressive out of them all.


As the train accelerates, Visha waits a few moments for one of the Mentors to speak. When none of them say anything, she raises an eyebrow. "Visha Devi, sixteen," She introduces confidently. 


The three Mentors' heads snap towards her, and she takes a deep breath. They are quite intimidating, and Visha can see why they had been chosen in particular to Mentor this year. But she tries to convince herself that they were not intimidating at all.


Her face settles into an impassive expression, her mouth forming a thin line. She raises an eyebrow at the Mentors, as if to say, What's wrong with you? 


Across from her, Blake Damon munches on a tart. 


The elder male Mentor's hand shoots out, and he snatches the tart from Blake mid-bite. "Show some respect, kid," he says in a gruff voice, and Visha has to stifle a laugh. "We're trying to help you survive." 


"Win," Visha corrects, eagerly sitting forward now that one of her Mentor's had finally spoken. Buzzing with uncontrolled excitement, she rushes to explain, "I don't want to survive. I want to win." 

𝐌𝐀𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 - 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘳Where stories live. Discover now