A Whole New Game: A Hunger Games Story

Chapter 3: Bloodbath

Clove

    "Don't worry, Clovey. I've got you under full surveillance. You're going to be fine."

    "Don't call me that," I spat. "This is so unfair to the rest of them. This whole thing is a set up. It's unjust. You are lying to everyone. The whole nation."

    "Ah yes, but you and I and the gamemakers are the only ones that know that. And maybe this year, perhaps I could make a few, ah, alterations. I'm sure you would be much less hesitant if you knew you could bring home your...friend."

    "What are you talking about?"

    "What if we said that two tributes could win, if both were from the same district? That'd keep the people happy wouldn't it? That would bring the victorious district the ultimate pride. Two victors! Double the benefits.  It would not only benefit you as an individual, but would ensure the prosperity of your entire city-state. Think of your people my dear. Your friends."

    I straighten. My gaze diverts.

    "Ah yes, and then there is your friend. Cato, I believe? I like him, and I am fairly certain I'm not the only one, it seems. I'm aware you to have a history?"

    "...."

    He laughed. "Oh sweetheart, you are too easy to read. Try not to be as obvious during the competition, alright? Just remember, maybe, if you can keep him out of trouble until the end, I just might save your little Cato too."

    As I climb in the plastic tunnel that will take me to the arena, my mind reels. Could Cato really be saved? I know I have to act; I must become the Career that the Academy had attempted to make of me. However gruesome it must seem, the people rile over it. There is never too much blood spilled. I, unlike the gamemakers, will end it quickly, no suffering. I will prolong nothing if I can help it. Just a quick flick of the wrist, that's all it takes. A stab through the heart is much faster than infection, bleeding to death, or whatever other sick means those bastards have in store.

    I think of my allies. Marvel, Glimmer, Eleanor: I had learned their names. Cato had been unsuccessful in recruiting the boy from 4, though as to whether or not he really tried was debatable. With Cato as our unspoken leader, we were the physical manifestation of fear. My largest concern was of the others in our own group; especially Glimmer and Eleanor. The other boy, Marvel, had seemed less concerning, though my anxiety had not been nulled completely. If he wanted, he might be able to take Cato out, though he didn't seem all too willing to put in the effort. That, and the miserable look in his eyes I had seen in the hovercraft flight to the arena had shown me a hint of something else; a hint of a scared little boy, trapped in a mountainous form. Perhaps he was as sickened by all this as I was. Perhaps not. Whatever the matter, by the end of the day, we will all be murderers. If not of children, then of their innocence.

    How is this even possible, I wonder. How can humans be so inconspicuously ignorant to the atrocity of so much violence around them? Death has a purpose. To cleanse the world, to relieve from pain, hurt, stress. But this, this violent slaughter, this belligerent butchering, there is no meaning behind it, and everyone in the Capitol acts as if it were only a farce. You would think we have a nation built upon blindness, the way they don't see things. Their vision has become blood-stained, and now, the 23 televised new splatters that coat their screens every year mean nothing to them.

    Maybe my heart would hurt less if I could see this way too.

    "Fifteen seconds," chimes the electronic voice, signaling me to make my way into the plastic terminal that will raise me up into the area. I close my eyes as the door closes firm behind me, leaving my sanity in my wake.