Promises of a Sacrificial Lamb |Destiel x The Hunger Games|

-18-

I only have sixty seconds to get my bearings.  Sixty seconds to figure out where I am, what I'm going to do, how I'm going to survive these next few minutes of utter brutality.

My eyes adjust to the light, and I see the massive golden Cornucopia situated in the center of the twenty-four metal platforms.  I'm right in front of its mouth.  Piles of boxes and trunks and racks of shiny weapons fill up its interior.  The most valuable things.  Outside, on the ground, are small knapsacks that spill out almost to the edge of the platform I'm standing on.  Less valuable, but anything helps.  I might have to snatch one before I run.

But if I'm in front of the mouth, that means I'm on the exact opposite side of where I need to be, where the tail of the golden horn juts up into the air.  At least these shoes are good for running.  I'll need to use them if I'm going to make it around the entire Cornucopia before someone catches me.

The singing birds sound like they're all around me.  I glance up and am startled to not see the azure sky or the puffy white clouds.  Instead, I find a vast canopy of green leaves, trees that stretch upwards for miles and block out any trace of the sky.  Only faint rays of sunlight are piercing through.  No wonder it's so hot and humid.  The heat from the sun is seeping in, but the thick canopy of leaves is preventing any of it from escaping again.

The ground beneath my metal platform is dark and rocky and slick with moisture.  Nearby, I hear a stream as the water trickles and gurgles over stones.  Then I see it, narrow and gentle and just behind the tail of the Cornucopia.  Not deep enough to be concerning, but definitely not clean enough to drink from.

We're positioned in a small glade.  Looming trees with dense trunks, bulky green leaves, and twisting roots surround us on every side, encasing us in this compact area.  The shrubbery is knotted and stout.  I can't see past the tree line.  The foliage is far too lush and exuberant.  This glade looks like it might be the only place that's open and airy.

I remember seeing an arena similar to this before, a number of years ago.  Exotic birds, vigorous and overgrown foliage, monstrous trees that extend up and block out the sky, air that's so steamy and soupy that it makes it difficult to breathe.  I think I'm standing in the center of a luxuriant rainforest.

There are twenty seconds left.  Fear consumes me.  I'm already sweating, losing all the water I tried so hard to drink in the Launch Room.  I frantically glance around at the other metal platforms, at the other tributes on either side of me.  I don't see Cas anywhere.  Only boys from the other outlying districts, looking just as terrified as me.  Where is he?

Fifteen seconds.  I need a plan.  I should grab one of the knapsacks that's nearest to me and make a dash for the tail of the golden horn.  Maybe Cas is over there.  Maybe he'll have a head start to get away from the bloodbath.

The bloodbath that's starting in ten seconds.  One of the boys from District 4 is nearby, and I see him twitching with eager anticipation.  He's already eyeing one of the sharp swords deep into the mouth of the Cornucopia.  For a fleeting moment, I want to go for one, retrieve a weapon to defend myself with, but I'm not that fast of a runner.  By the time I get to the weapon racks, all the Careers will probably be there waiting to gut me.  No.  I should just hope and pray there's something I can use in the small knapsack I'm going to get.

Five seconds.  The ticking of the clock echoes and rings in my ears, vibrates in my bones.  Deep breaths.  Stay calm.  Stay focused.  Just grab a knapsack and run.  Find Cas behind the tail.  I can do this.

The gong sounds, and the Hunger Games officially begin.  I catapult myself off the metal platform and onto the hard ground.  Everyone around me makes a mad dash for the tempting mouth of the Cornucopia, but I stay back.  All of my senses are heightened as I rip a knapsack from the rocks and sling it over my shoulders.  I will not partake in the bloodbath, no matter how tantalizing those swords look.  I will not risk my life right off the bat.  I can't.