Deceived: The 500th Annual Hunger Games

Chapter 78 - Training: Day 2

SPIKELET QUINN'S P.O.V

Wielding the golden pickaxe, I drive it into the first dummy in line. The satisfaction I've felt from the past day and a half has been unreal.

Gripping the pickaxe sends this determination through my veins; smashing the pick into the heads of ragdoll dummies fills me with a whole new level of sheer exhilaration.

Pulling it out, I see the artificial artery - it squirts blood at me as I turn and collide with dummy number two.

Apparently this is our last day of training. That, in my opinion, is a load of rubbish; non-Victors are under skilled in comparison to us pre-Victors.

With Shadow dead as Phoxus backing Chester to win, I've become an alliance of one. I've decided it's too easy to be betrayed, to be agitated by another soul - to the point where you murder them.

Another dummy, wielding a spear, charges forward. Why would people volunteer for this?

Maybe these games are glamoured up to be something they're not. All of us would go home if we could right now. Even with the pain and suffering torturing us, we'd rather be in our Districts.

The spear is launched; I duck and roll. As I position myself again, pickaxe at the ready, I hear the clatter of the spear - it probably hit a rack of some sort.

My pickaxe lodges itself in the gut of the dummy; it collapses around the gold point, forcing me to brutally yank the pick from the wound. Blood sprays my clothing, but I don't mind. I won't even have to wear these again after tomorrow.

Ever.

My arm tenses as I block the flimsy throwing knife with my pick. The dummy, stood with three knives left, tried to throw another one.

One of my favourite things is being able to throw a pickaxe. Letting the pick soar, I dodge the next knife. Rolling, I notice the golden tip pierce the lower abdomen of the dummy. As it collapses in a pile of its fake blood, I retrieve my pick and carry on.

Behind me, I feel someone's breath; not a dummy. Turning around, I notice a girl roughly my age behind me.

"My name is Sagitaria," she smiles. "My brother was Yohan, the one Ivory married."

"Hey there," I smile back, placing my pick onto the ground as the dummies around me are cleared up. "I'm Spikelet Quinn, pre-Victor of District Two."

"Ivory and I want to wish you good luck in the games." Already, I could tell that the two of ten wouldn't be a malicious pair, no matter what their skills are.

"Ditto," I reply, smiling at the girl. "You and Ivory are nice people who don't deserve to go through this hell." Ivory, like me, lost someone dear to her.

Spiro is still important to me - I often go to his house and help feed his family. In fact, I've left half of the money I didn't use this year for Spiro's family.

"If you need an alliance, Ivory and I welcome you. You're worthy; we're talking about skill and intelligence, but you're also caring, loyal." Sagitaria, again, looked up at me and smiled a big smile.

Returning the smile, I thank her and she waddles off to find Ivory. Honestly, I wish them the best - they have so many people to care for back home.

So do I.

Honestly, whoever goes home must deserve it. Not a hope in hell of the pre-Victors going home unless they prove their usefulness.

This really is survival of the fittest.

ALIX VIPOINTE'S P.O.V

My hand securely grips the axe I have; I grabbed it as soon as I got the chance and I haven't let go of it since.