𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴:
"Blood // Water — grandson"
01:50 ━━━━─●──── 03:37
ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑‧₊˚ ⋅ જ⁀➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑
Y/N POV
Once my vision has cleared I can see that Lucia was right. I am standing on a pedestal in the middle of a giant, scorching desert. A large golden horn in the centre — the Cornucopia — shelters various useful items from the beating sun. Among them is an axe, but it is too far to run in the sand.
There is a large rock formation in the distance, and when I look behind me I can see a vast tropical jungle. A small oasis with some palm trees is to my right. The Careers will claim that along with the cornucopia, no doubt. There are also some large sand dunes to my left. Other than that all I can see is sand, miles and miles of it. It could pose a disadvantage, as it may make it easier for the Careers to track me, or it could slow me down. Unless I run into the jungle, but that could be dangerous. I look up and see something flying overhead, but the sun prevents me from seeing what it is. Probably just a big bird.
The tributes are arranged in a circle around the Cornucopia. With thirty seconds left on the countdown I look around, trying to spot Cole. To my right is the boy from District 5, and on the other side is the girl from District 7. The girl from 7 is nervously playing with a small wooden ball, which must be her district token. I see Finch and Valerie on neighbouring pedestals to my left, and Emily to my right. There is no sign of Cole, which means he must be on the other side of the Cornucopia.
I make eye contact with Finch at twenty seconds and he quickly nods to the jungle, indicating he's going there. After nodding back to show that I understand, I make eye contact with Emily and relay the message. I see nod and her turn to someone out of view, presumably Cole, and do the same thing that both Finch and I did. When the gong goes off I will run into the jungle with them.
Suddenly, I hear a small shriek from my left.
And then there is a ground shaking explosion. Something warm and sticky splatters on my face. There are little chunks too. I whip my head to the side and immediately regret it as a sickening feeling overcomes me. The girl from District 7, who was playing with the wooden ball — she must've dropped it, which set off the mines around her pedestal. I wipe my hand down my face and it comes away bright red. The realisation dawns on me that the warm and sticky substance on my face was blood. Her blood. Which means that the chunks were...
Oh god.
I fight the urge to vomit, determined to last at least until the countdown ends. When the gong goes off I can't even hear it over the sharp ringing in my ears, I just see people run. It takes me a moment to realise what is going on before I am flying across the blood soaked sand too. But instead of heading towards the jungle, like I was going to originally, I am running towards the Cornucopia.
The sand is flatter here than elsewhere in the desert, but it still engulfs my shoes, slowing me down. I look around wildly, but nothing makes sense. The explosion and panic must have left me disoriented. Then a body crashes into me, knocking me over. It's the boy from District 8. He's just as strong as he looks and he has a large knife in his hand. He charges at me again, swinging wildly, but he falls over before he gets to me, dead with a knife buried in his skull.
I look around wildly to see where it came from and I notice Spindrift looking at me from on top of the Cornucopia. He nods at me, then points at the boy, and mouths, "run."
Quick as I can I grab the bloodied knife out of the boys head and also the one in his hand. I put the one he had and slide it into one of the loops on my belt, opting to keep the other in my hand for the time being to defend myself. Looking around, I make the split second decision to grab a black backpack lying on the ground. I rush forward, grab it, and turn to run away but I'm met with resistance.
The girl from District 3 is clinging onto the pack like it's some kind of lifeline. It is, of course, but it's mine. We enter a tug of war, each of us desperately trying to rip the essential items away from the other. Then I realise I have a knife in my hand. Without thinking I quickly slice her throat. It's so deep that in only a few seconds she falls to the ground, releasing her grip from the pack.
I sling it over my shoulder and bolt towards the jungle, not risking lingering around the cornucopia for any longer, and immerse myself in the thick sanctuary of the trees. You can't hear it from the Cornucopia, but the whole jungle is alive with chitters and squawks and low bellows from what I assume are various species of tropical birds.
My top priority is to find a source of water. Any water will do, preferably a river, stream, or lake, but the sooner I find it the sooner I can wash the girl from District 7 off of my face. A sick feeling envelops me as the adrenaline fades and this time, now that the threat of being blown into a million pieces has been hopefully eliminated, I fall to my knees and let myself vomit. Probably not the best idea, because now I'll need to find food and water sooner rather than later, but I can't help it. I just saw three people die right in front of my eyes. One of them splattered all over my face, one of them almost killed me, and then the third... that girl from 3...
I killed her.
I killed her without hesitation. Like it was second nature. Guilt adds onto the nausea, fuelling the next round of puke. This is bad. I need to move. The longer I stay here the closer the Careers will get, and if they find me then Spindrift will not be able to save me, not like he did with that boy from 8.
I wonder why Spindrift saved me from that boy. Was what he was saying about liking me true? He doesn't even really know me, and there's no point to get to know me because in the end one of us will die anyway. So then why did he save me? Wouldn't it be easier to just let me die?
The sound of the canon, which sounds whenever a tribute dies, brings me to my senses. For the Bloodbath, it sounds after to fighting is over. I wait and silently count them, expecting at least half dead as per usual. But I only count four.
Only four? That's not right — usually most of the people who run to the Cornucopia end up dead. Most people ran towards the Cornucopia. There is a loud noise in the distance which I can just hear above the noise of the jungle life. I look up through the trees in the general direction and see a hovercraft in the air. It must be picking up the dead tributes, which means the Careers are on the move. With a chilling feeling settling in my spine I realise that the small number of canons was no mistake. The Careers must have purposely left people alive to prolong the games and give the Capitol a better show.
I pick myself up and make a feeble attempt to wipe the dirt from my trousers, but they're still stained. It's probably better this way — it makes them darker which allows me to blend in easier. I walk away as quickly as I can. If the Careers decided to head into the jungle then they won't be very far behind. The faster I go, the more distance I put between myself and them.
The jungle becomes more dense as I travel deeper into it. I push vines and large leaves aside as I walk over the sun dappled underbrush, praying that the Careers don't have enough sense to track me. The climate is hot and damp, even though there isn't much sun and I'm sweating like crazy. Not only that, but after an hour or so my throat begins to burn with thirst.
As I push aside yet another vine, a memory from a few days ago enters my mind. Cole and I were at the station that trained us on how to find water, and I vaguely remember the trainer showing us how to get water from a vine. I look at the vine for a moment, debating whether or not it was worth stopping for a few moments to relieve my parched throat and potentially wash my face.
Thirst wins and I pull out the knife I took from the District 8 boy. The base of the blade is serrated, which makes cutting the thick vine much easier. I remember the trainer telling me that certain colours of sap mean the plant is okay, but I don't remember which. This stuff looks fine though, so I tilt my head and hold the vine over my head, allowing water from the vine to slowly drip into my mouth.
Not wanting to risk lingering any longer, I continue to walk. It's almost dusk when I start to notice various animal tracks in the soil which is growing increasingly damper. Relief washes over me. The trainer told me these are the signs to look out for when looking for water. It means there could be a river or something nearby.
Sure enough, it's barely a minute more before I start to hear the sound of gushing water. I run a little father and leave the thick trees to find a rocky riverbank, slick with water. There are various plants around, some of which I recognise from training to be edible. And there are fish in the river too.
With a relieved smile I decide to stay here for the night. It's too late to do anything now, but if I can get up a tree then I can stay nearby the river. I walk a little back into the jungle, but not so far that I can't hear the river anymore. Some of the trees here are very large, and I choose one with dense foliage that looks easy to climb.
I hoist myself up the tree and into a little crook in the branches. It is now that I finally get a chance to inspect my pack. Inside there is a flare gun, a thermal undershirt, dried mango, crackers and canned tuna, some iodine pills, a waterskin, and some rope. I eat a piece of the dried mango and tie both myself and my backpack to the tree branch I'm on so that I don't fall out.
It's getting a little cooler now that the sun isn't directly overhead, but it's still extremely humid in the jungle. Frustrated due to the heat, I pull off my top and, after some effort, manage to rip the sleeves off, making a tank top of some sort, and stuff the ripped sleeves into my backpack. Then I close my eyes, exhausted, and quickly drift off to sleep.
It's dark when I am awoken by the national anthem. The seal of the Capitol appears in the sky and I push aside a leaf to get a better look at the fallen tributes, anxiously watching, praying that Cole isn't on of them. Out of everyone in our little alliance — which I need to find — he would be the least likely to make it to the jungle, having to run around the Cornucopia and straight through the Bloodbath.
I let out a sigh of relief when all four tributes show up in the sky. I already knew of three who died, and the other was the boy from District 11. It's a little surprising to see his face in the sky. Sure, I knew he wouldn't last long, but I didn't think he'd die this quick.
There is a loud noise coming from upstream. It sounds like a roar, a snarl, and a growl all in one and resembles what I imagine a tiger would sound like. Of course, I've never actually seen, let alone heard, a tiger.
A loud scream follows the sound. It sounds like a girl, but I don't get enough time to know for sure before it is abruptly cut off by a canon. After the ringing fades from my ears all is quiet and not even the birds sing anymore. They must be asleep.
I shiver violently as a light breeze blows over me. The the night is a stark contrast from the day. It's freezing, even with the jacket. Just as I'm regretting tearing off my sleeves I remember that I have a thermal in my pack. I quickly zip open the pack and put it on over my top, not wanting to freeze to death.
The thermal made me a little warmer, but I was still cold. Still, I managed to drift off into a dreamless sleep as the jungle wakes and the birds start chittering once more.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑‧₊˚ ⋅ જ⁀➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑
It is midday when I wake up. I quietly curse myself for losing so much time as I stare at the bright sun in the middle of the sky. Nothing I can do about it now, I suppose. Slightly annoyed, I peel my thermal off of my body. Since I slept thought the scorching hot weather with the thermal over my shirt, both my thermal and my shirt are drenched in sweat. Gross.
I peel the thermal off of my body, deciding to wash it off in the river. It can't get any more wet anyway, so why not? Before going to the river I decide that it's best to try make a spear so that I can try to catch some fish. The food I've gotten from the pack can only last me so long.
I untie myself from the tree and put the rope back into my backpack, which I then put on my shoulder. My feet make a soft thud when I slide off the branch into the soft ground beneath me. After quickly looking around I spot a fallen branch that looks to be as long as I am tall, which is perfect for what I need.
I drag it over to my tree and situate myself in the large roots. Once I'm comfortable I take out the knife I took from the District 8 boy and start to sharpen the stick. It doesn't take me long to get a nice and sharp tip, so I stand and trudge the short distance to the river.
The river is loud and the water gushes towards a waterfall. Not wanting to accidentally fall and get dragged away by the current, I move further up the river. Like hell am I dying from a waterfall. I peel off my top, leaving me in just my bra, jacket and trousers, and dunk it in the water with my thermal for a few minutes.
I know I'm on camera and that the whole of Panem might see me, but I hope the gamemakers have the decency to focus on some other tributes. Probably not though, since Capitol citizens are pervs. I'd zip up the jacket, but it's just too hot for that right now. It's necessary for me to wash my cloths — I'm not going to wear them if they're drenched with sweat. Once I'm satisfied that they're soaked with just water and nothing else, I tie them both around my waist.
Then I grab the waterskin from my bag, fill it with water, and add two iodine tablets. It will take some time for the water to purify, so until then I'll have to wait.
I subconsciously scratch my face and it comes back with dried blood under my fingernails. Of course, I'd forgotten about the blood. I quickly look around to make sure that no one is coming before dunking my head under the cool water and giving my face a good scrub.
When I come up I sorrowfully watch the blood go over the waterfall. Those were probably her last remains. I imagine they'd have to scrape bits of her off the sand. Her poor family. Not even her little wooden ball could have survived that explosion. Honestly, I think I barely survived that explosion. I wonder why she brought that as a token.
Thinking of her and the wooden ball reminds me of my own token. I pull the necklace out and flick it open, listening to the quiet ticking of the clock. The soft repetition gives me a sense of comfort and familiarity. It's like some kind of salvation, keeping my mind at ease.
There are lots of salmon in the river. It's a little hard for me to see them, but I try throwing my spear at them regardless. Spearing a fish is harder than it looks. It's times like this that I'm jealous of District 4. I'm sure Spindrift would be able to do this easily. After maybe an hour or so of trying and failing miserably I hear the pleasant chimes of what I hope is a sponsor gift.
I look up and smile as the little silver parachute descends upon me. It's carrying a medium sized pot and I reach up and grab it from the air, detaching the parachute and putting it in my pack. It could come in handy later. The pot is warm to the touch, and with relief I realise it's probably food.
Famished after having nothing but a slice of mango since yesterday morning, I quickly open the pot. A heavenly smell wafts out and makes my stomach growl with anticipation. There is a note on top of an inside lid from Bailey.
Because you want salmon so badly. Please stop with the spear though — Finnick is laughing.
— Bailey
I scoff and crunch up the paper, holding my middle finger up in the air for Finnic Odair as I open the lid. Just as Bailey's note hinted, it's salmon. It is lightly burnt on the sides, with an enticing golden brown sauce drizzled over the top and coriander as a garnish. There are also potatoes, which are yum.
My cheeks heat up as I realise this means that the whole of Panem has been watching me flail around, unsuccessfully trying to catch a fish. Not only that, but I'm still in my bra.
I check my thermal and my shirt around my waist as I take a seat on the slick rocks that make up the riverbank. The top has completely dried in the heat of the day, so I hastily slip it on, not keen to continue showing Panem my bra. Unfortunately, the thermal, which is a little thicker than the top, is still quite damp, albeit much dryer than earlier today. I tie it back around my waist, deciding that it shouldn't get my newly dried top too wet.
Then I dig into my food. It's just as delicious as it looks and a warm feeling spreads through my chest. I've never had fish before — there isn't much of it in District 9. Fish is good. Or, salmon is, at least. Especially the bits that are burnt. I thought they'd be gross, like the burnt parts of bread, but instead they're quite sweet.
The sauce is even sweeter. It tastes a bit like honey, but with some more salt. I remember once when dad was still alive he brought us honey. It was like eating sunshine. I think I was around eight or nine. We never had it after that, since it was always expensive and dad didn't make that much money, despite our family being one of the richer ones in the district. Then he died and we could barely even afford bread to feed ourselves.
The potatoes are perfect too. They're golden, warm, buttery and cooked just how I like them. I wonder if that's intentional or just a coincidence. We have potatoes a lot back home, with butter too. There are potatoes growing in our backyard, and since they don't go to the Capitol it's perfectly legal to pick them and eat them ourselves.
The Plinths, who live just down the road, own a sheep. It's pretty useful because it provides wool and dairy. They make clothes and milk and butter and cheese and sell some of their products for money. It's free for us, though — Mr Plinth was my father's best friend.
I quietly enjoy my food, staring admiring the horizon. It's beautiful here. The sun sets between two large rock formations that appear to form a canyon, and the dimming light paints a beautiful golden orange across the sky. If I squint I can just make out a few stars and the rising moon. Under any other circumstance, I'd probably be very comfortable here.
Just as I'm finishing up my meal and putting the pot back into my pack for later use I realise that something feels wrong. Of course, this whole competition feels wrong, but there's something else too. It feels almost as though I'm being watched. I put my pack over my shoulder and stand, looking around for any sign of danger. Where are the fish in the river? They've all vanished. I wade into the water and use my spear to poke around for the large, red fish. And then I see it.
Moving slowly towards me is a large object. I can't quite see it in the dark, but I know it's getting closer. It looks slightly like a large shell, or maybe a weird sail of some kind. As it gets closer, it gets larger, and I soon realise that it's taller than I am. I don't know what it is. Is it dangerous? Should I run?
And then it rises, and I have to bite my own tongue to stop my scream as I see what's underneath it.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑‧₊˚ ⋅ જ⁀➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑
WORDS: 3741 || PUBLISHED: 15/12/23
A/N: I'm actually so crook rn lmao. I've been taking Covid tests though, and they keep coming back negative, so I think I'm good there. Bro, not even kidding, I was so excited to write this chapter. Is it bad that I enjoy the actual games most out of anything in the Hunger Games? Or is that totally normal? Also I know my writing isn't the best, because I've seen way better, but I'm genuinely really proud of it because I was so much worse a few years back, so I'd really appreciate it if you could vote and comment. It always brings a smile to my face when I see those notifications that says someone voted or commented, and I just want to say a big thank you to everyone who has done so. You all make my day.
— B <3