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"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. LET THE SIXTY-SEVENTH HUNGER GAMES BEGIN!" Claudius Templesmith's voice boomed through the arena.
Sixty.
Haven stared out at the Cornucopia, examining the distance between the structure and the pedestal she stood on.
Fifty.
She debated whether to try and make a run for it, or bolt in the opposite direction.
Forty.
Running to the Cornucopia meant heading straight into the bloodbath.
Thirty.
She didn't want to be stranded in the snowy landscape with no supplies. She was going for it.
Twenty.
The blonde scanned the tributes to either side of her. The District 3 boy and the District 8 girl, both of whom she felt she could take on. She decided she was definitely going for it.
Fifteen.
Her eyes narrowed in on a gray backpack about 20 feet in front of her, and a silver spear glimmering in the light about 10 feet in front of the backpack.
Ten.
The Cleary girl inhaled, preparing to spring off the platform.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
The blonde readied herself, shifting her feet into position. This was it.
One.
The cannon sounded, and the tributes all began jumping off their platforms, some instantly, and others delayed due to shock. Haven instantly hit the ground running, her focus trained on the backpack and spear. The two tributes next to her were slower, and by the time they'd started running, Haven had already reached the bag, which she hurriedly slung over her shoulder. She sprinted forward, her fingers wrapping around the shaft of the spear.
Haven noticed a belt of throwing knives a few yards away, as did another tribute. They both reached for them at the same time, and before the boy could lift the sword he was carrying, Haven plunged her spear right into his chest.
She froze for a moment, before remembering the knives. The blonde scooped up the knives before sprinting into the tree line, not stopping until the screams of the bloodbath were well behind her.
