This was the moment everyone had been waiting for. The Capitol, nearly as a whole, were glued to their television screens. Final bets flew back and forth, as the 77th Hunger Games neared it’s gory end. 24 Tributes entered, and now it was down to just 2. Which one would reign victorious? Even the Gamemaker and his cronies stared through the hundreds, maybe thousands of cameras around the area, waiting for the two to finally encounter one another. They had already done their part with strategically placed bombs, ringing the outside of the area and forcing the tributes ever inward, toward each other.
This year, they had gone from a theme of the past. A war zone. The arena had been filled with devastating, but not quite lethal land mines. It hadn’t stopped raining inside since the game began. There were landslides in one area, missiles from above in the next, and the whole place was ringed by a large trench, that they could easily fill with water if a tribute got too cozy. The tributes themselves were fitted with camouflage gear and dog tags from ancient days.
The tribute from District 6 had collected 4 such tags. She was currently moving through the dense underbrush of the bushes, a large, bloodied hunting knife clutched in one hand. The Cornucopia had a white flag on it, making it stand out like a beacon amid all the muck and rain. It was the only place that would be dry, and she knew that. Now to get there before the other tribute did.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen. Just as she had, the male from District 4 was going toward the Cornucopia from the opposite side, and he was bigger and moving faster. All that District 6 had going for her was the element of surprise.
District 4 popped out first, his gear coated with mud and worse. He reached the Cornucopia and marveled at how dry it was. Eagerly, he started to ring out his soaking wet clothes. The sound of the rain not 10 feet away masked the rustle of the bushes. District 6 was on her way.
“Here it is… the final confrontation.” Caeser Flickerman and his partner watched on the giant screen behind them, priming the Capitol crowd for one last kill.
District 6 popped out of the bushes, and took a running leap at District 4’s back. Her small size made this easier than most, and she drove her knife into his back. Alas, she missed the heart by several inches. The other District flipped her off his back, and to the ground. Then he wrapped his hands around her slender neck. She started to gasp and claw at him, grasping for air and the knife that had fallen away. Her vision was going red. Suddenly, she grasped the handle of the knife, and drove it into the side of other tribute’s neck. He released her immediately, but she kept going, stabbing and stabbing until he no longer moved and she was covered in blood.
A cannon fired.
And she began to scream.
“That’s it – that’s it! Panem, we now present to you the winner of the 77th Hunger Games! Your Victor! Jetta Riti!”
This year, they had gone from a theme of the past. A war zone. The arena had been filled with devastating, but not quite lethal land mines. It hadn’t stopped raining inside since the game began. There were landslides in one area, missiles from above in the next, and the whole place was ringed by a large trench, that they could easily fill with water if a tribute got too cozy. The tributes themselves were fitted with camouflage gear and dog tags from ancient days.
The tribute from District 6 had collected 4 such tags. She was currently moving through the dense underbrush of the bushes, a large, bloodied hunting knife clutched in one hand. The Cornucopia had a white flag on it, making it stand out like a beacon amid all the muck and rain. It was the only place that would be dry, and she knew that. Now to get there before the other tribute did.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to happen. Just as she had, the male from District 4 was going toward the Cornucopia from the opposite side, and he was bigger and moving faster. All that District 6 had going for her was the element of surprise.
District 4 popped out first, his gear coated with mud and worse. He reached the Cornucopia and marveled at how dry it was. Eagerly, he started to ring out his soaking wet clothes. The sound of the rain not 10 feet away masked the rustle of the bushes. District 6 was on her way.
“Here it is… the final confrontation.” Caeser Flickerman and his partner watched on the giant screen behind them, priming the Capitol crowd for one last kill.
District 6 popped out of the bushes, and took a running leap at District 4’s back. Her small size made this easier than most, and she drove her knife into his back. Alas, she missed the heart by several inches. The other District flipped her off his back, and to the ground. Then he wrapped his hands around her slender neck. She started to gasp and claw at him, grasping for air and the knife that had fallen away. Her vision was going red. Suddenly, she grasped the handle of the knife, and drove it into the side of other tribute’s neck. He released her immediately, but she kept going, stabbing and stabbing until he no longer moved and she was covered in blood.
A cannon fired.
And she began to scream.
“That’s it – that’s it! Panem, we now present to you the winner of the 77th Hunger Games! Your Victor! Jetta Riti!”
