A Whole New Game: A Hunger Games Story

Chapter 2: Training

Athena

It has been almost a week since I have seen my beautiful sister. The train ride to the Capitol, the opening ceremonies, the preparations, it all seems like a blur, lost in the memories of cheering crowds and bold, Capitol colors. She is the only thing to me, the only thing I think of as I enter the training facility for our first day of real preparation.

I have never been in a place with so many horrendous looking objects. Any number of the things in here could draw blood with a single touch. I hate to imagine how fast they can sever entire limbs, or heads for that matter.

Not many of the other tributes have arrived yet; the kids from Districts 1, 2, 7, and 11 are the only ones here. The rest must still be on their way, though looking at the competition now I'm really in no hurry to see the rest. Several of them are enormous, mainly the boys from the Career districts, though one from District 11, Thresh, is huge. I know them each by name, and had been careful to evaluate their every recorded action on the reruns of each event. Most are somewhat smaller, and several of the Careers could easily be outsmarted, though I am sure to keep my eye on Clove, for I know the keniving look she bears all too well as one of fair intelligence. That, and the tributes from 12 who had caused quite the stir. Unlike myself, they had already managed to gain quite a fan base, and would no doubt have sponsors pouring in.

Fortunately, I had not made sponsors a huge part of my strategy. I had talked it over with our escort, a stringy newcomer by the name of Maple. She was thoughtful enough, and when I told her of my "outdoor experience," she had implied that I should use my skills as a survivalist, rather than a warrior. I would hide, craft, steal; whatever means necessary to ensure I stayed out of the way of the other tributes. I would wait until the rest of them had taken each other out, then I would emerge from the shadows, and be crowned victor. All so I can get home to Sammy.

I will get home to Sammy.

Eleanor

I walk into the training room, a monstrous grin clawing the crevices of my cheekbones. I breathe in the odor of cold, hard metal and sweat. God, it feels good to be back. My eyes flicker between tributes. I sort out the weaklings from those I might have to keep an eye on, and so far, there aren't many. Besides the towering boy from 1 and the dark-skinned one from 11, most aren't even my height, let alone my build. I could easily take out any of the girls, especially the smaller few from Districts like 11 and 9. Even the taller female from 12 is laughable thin and lengthy.

My competition, huh? This is going to be excruciatingly easy.

Then I turn, and for the first time, I see him. The boy from District 2.

My pulse quickens, my palms drowning in greasy sweat, far more than they were a moment ago. I feel hot. My fingers turn nervously, one hand flying up to anxiously twirl a lock of golden curls.

The spiked hair atop his chiseled sculpt reflects every sword in the room. He reminds me of a stallion I had seen once on the beach back in 4; tall, yet broad with muscle, skin rippling where the veins begin to pulse through.

Snap out of it Eleanor. You're going to have to kill him soon enough, now is not the time to get all over a pretty face.

But it sure is a pretty face.

I set my gaze to the far corner. There I see them, glinting, calling to me with their hisses as they pass through the air, their heartwarming whir as they enter their canvas, mannequin sheath. Shining, glimmering spears.

In what is nearly a skip, my feet hustle over to the station, hands launching around a singular, silver shaft. They are lighter than those of the Career Academy back home, but it doesn't take long before I've become accustomed to the shift in weight. After a particularly skilled round, one of the canvas training mannequins is near shreds, granting me a few nervous glances from smaller tributes scattered about the room. The dark-haired girl from 2 scoffs; our eyes meet for a moment. I give her a wink. That's what you get to look forward to, you filthy scum!