A Game of Chance [THG Fanfic]

Arena, Day Three (1)

-Damon Brooks, District One-

Every time I move my arm, agony shoots through my body. For this reason, I do not want to go to this 'Birthday Party'. Thankfully, a sponsor sent me a gift, to numb and help heal my side, or I would be in an even worse state. They also send Valentyna and I see through masks, so that we could see each other. But, there was nothing for my arm. If my arm starts to bleed again, I figure that I will be too weak to be of use to anybody, especially myself.

Of course, Valentyna has a different view on if I should go, or if I should stay here. Appariently she wants some form of backup, or just someone to test things before she picks them up. If I don't go, and so this for her, she will kill me, and I am in no position to defend myself with all these wounds handicapping me. Especially after she made my wound worse, yesterday evening. I wince as I remember. I just want to forget.

My good arm throbs from when she pulled me, but this pain is minor compared to my other arm. The pain feels like spikes are driving into it. It is the most excrusiating pain that I have ever felt. So much so that storeams of tears run down my cheeks for the first time since I was a little kid.

I stop, and sit on the ground. How Valentyna can expect me to 'protect' her like this, I don't know. If i'm her backup, then she doesn't stand a good chance of winning and fights. Not with me around, anyway. She must be plotting something, or i'd have probably been dead by now. She doesn't care who she kills.

She stops walking, and turns around to give me a hate filled glare. I flinch away from her. Why I had to be in an allience with the crazy tribute I do not know. "Can't you just get up and walk?" She asks, anger evident in her voice. Of course, she would only think about herself, and not anybody else, for instance, me. Apparently I am not entitled to have my own opinions on any matters that we disagree with.

I shake my head, as opposed to talking, trying to save my strength for if I need it. Valentyna is not amused at my lack of speech.

"Well i'll just have to make you stand up myself."

She lets go of my good arm, and, grinning crazily as she does so, she pulls me to my feet by the still weeping stump of my arm.

I let out a screech of agony, yelling. It is torment, and I am only around a metre of the floor. As she pulls me up further, spots dance around my vision, and I collapse, the world hidden by a haze of red.

I only come to as the anthem plays, to announce the dead tributes. I cannot see Valentyna anywhere, which I take as a good sign.

Rosabelle Greene, District 5

Troy Thorstone, District 10

Neleesha Westwood, District 2

I frown at this. 11 tributes left alive... but how did Neleesha die?

The memory causes my arm to hurt even more every time I think about it, which, admittedly, is quite often. It circles round my mind, refusing to leave even for just a couple of seconds.

"Oh, Damon," Valentyna calls out, in a sickly sweet tone of voice. "It is time for us to leave! We don't want all the good tributes to die before we get there, now, do we?"

I frown slightly. "Before we leave, how did Neleesha die?"

She giggles. "Oh, her. Well, I snuck into the tent that she was sleeping in, and pinned her down with several knives. Finally, I used the axe. It was quite easy, in fact. All she did was scream. I do wish that she had have fought back though. It would have been so much more entertaining."