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 HetaliaXHunger Games FanFic

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Sasha Braus

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Posts : 73
Join date : 2011-08-14
Location : hell, probably

PostSubject: HetaliaXHunger Games FanFic   Thu Nov 03, 2011 5:37 pm

(( Iceland and Norway wanted to see it so the easiest thing was for me to put it on this site. Just ignore it. IT'S NOT HERE. ))

Chapter One

Matthew stared at the stage nervously. There was a man reaching into a glass ball that must have held thousands of tiny little slips of paper. He saw one slip selected from the thousands of others.

"Berwald Oxensteirna" the man chirped, way to cheerful for the atmosphere around him.

Matthew let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

He saw a boy he recognized from school step up to the stage. he stood expressionless, looking out to the crowd through his glasses.

The over-cheery announcer reached into the glass ball again. It was so quiet in the District Seven square that you could drop a pin and everyone could hear it.

"Matthew Williams!" he called.

Matthew felt sick to his stomach when he heard his name called. The other kids around him shifted and formed a path to the stage.

He shakily walked up to the stage, his whole body trembling. Matthew wondered if he should just run and be shot down by the peacekeepers. He voted against it. In the Hunger Games he would at least have the slim chance of winning and returning to his home. If he ran it would surely mean death for him.

The trembling eventually subsided and Matthew shut out the mayor droning on about how the Hunger Games started and about the dark times.

After the mayor was done the man from the Capitol who was pulling the tribute's names out of the large glass ball stepped up to the podium, smiling as if no one was just called up to die. As if no one had to give up their life just because the Capitol said so.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds ever be in your favor." the announcer said, still smiling, saying the line that was said every year, in every district.

After that some peacekeepers escorted Matthew and Berwald to an old building at the end of the main road. As they walked down that road Matthew looked around, absorbing every detail. He at least wanted to visit District Seven in his dreams. It would provide some form of comfort in the wretched arena that would probably be the place where he took his last breath.

They continued down the road the road approaching the old building that towered over their heads. The tributes were brought into this building to say their last goodbyes to their family and friends. It had been that way ever since he could remember.

Matthew and Berwald were led into separate rooms. After a few minutes Matthew's mother and little sister, Lucille slipped into the room. His mother's eyes were red and puffy due to crying and his sister had a distraught look on her face. It cut into his heart when he saw them like this.

"You can't go! I don't want you to!" Lucille wailed.

"I have to. I'll try my best to make it back" Matthew said in a soft, soothing voice.

"You better." she pouted, not fully understanding what he was going into.

"Lucille, leave your brother alone. I'm sure he'll try his best" his mother said, pulling the small girl onto her lap.

Matthew talked with his family until a peacekeeper burst into the room, telling them that their time was up. Matthew's mother had to pull Lucille off of Matthew and drag her out of the room.

Matthew sighed and sat in the now silent room, waiting for the announcer, whose name he had now learned was Drakov Platero. He wondered how many families had to go through the painful process of saying goodbye to their loved one in this very room. It was as if the room had absorbed the sorrow and it had built up over the years, creating a gloomy feel to the plain white room.

Before Matthew could think any longer Drakov came marching in with Berwald following behind him silently. Matthew looked up at them forlornly.

"It's time to go to the platform!" Drakov said in his silly Capitol accent.

Matthew nodded and followed them and some peacekeepers to the run down train station on the outskirts of the district. A new, shiny Capitol train came rolling into the station.

Taking one last look at his home, he stepped onto the train that would take him to his death.

Chapter Two

Ivan looked at the lavish food that was presented to him and his district partner, Toris. It was far better than anything he had ever seen or eaten in District Twelve. He shoveled food into his mouth taking this as a time to gain wait before the days without food in the Games. By the time he was done his stomach hurt since Ivan wasn't used to being this full.

"The food is great, isn't it?" Ivan asked in a friendly, yet childish voice.

"Yes, it is." Toris replied in a shaky voice.

Ivan stood up after an attendant took his plate. He walked to the metal door that lead out to a platform that allowed him to stand outside.

He stood on the platform looking up at the sky. He smiled, seeing that the sun was still setting, creating beautiful, glowing, red streaks across the sky on a light pink background that shifted to a navy blue. The sun was a bright red orange and sat in the middle of the scene.

He heard a soft buzzing sound and he tilted his head slightly, wondering what it could be. He reached his hand out only to recoil from the painful shock he received from an invisible force field that prevented his escape. Someone must have tried to run away by jumping off the train and running if the survived that.

Once it got dark Ivan crept back into the train and slipped into his assigned room, careful not to disturb those who were sleeping in the rooms beside his. He threw himself onto the bed and stared up at the white ceiling for an indefinite amount of time, his body resisting sleep.

After what seemed like hours of listening to the train's engine Ivan finally drifted into a restless sleep.

*************************** (( TIME LAPSE. 8D ))

Ivan woke to his escort's high pitched voice telling him and Toris that it was time to get up for it would be a "big day". Ivan groaned and sat up slowly, hating the tight schedule that his escort had for them. It was as if he was planning their whole lives. Ivan paused, laughing silently, since his escort practically was planning their whole lives.

Ivan pulled a plain black shirt and some new jeans out of the dresser they had put in the room. He changed into those clothes and discarded his old, worn clothing. He paused, picking up his district token off the small table next to the bed. He put it on, letting it hang around his neck. It was a roughly carved, wooden snowflake that was painted white. He had strung it on a string so it was easier to keep with him. His sister had made it so Ivan promised himself that he would keep it with him at all times.

Someone knocked on the door rapidly moments later. Within a few seconds his escort's voice resounded in the room. Ivan took a moment to mock her then he stepped out of the room, ending up right in front of his escort. He looked down at her blankly.

"We should be in the Capitol in an hour!" she squeaked.

Ivan nodded and walked into the room they ate in yesterday. Toris and his mentor were already seated at the table, eating. Ivan sat down next to Toris, across from their mentor. He looked down at the bizarre Capitol food as he tried to drown out his escort's ridiculously annoying voice.

Within ten minutes Ivan had stuffed himself with the food. Their escort explained to them what was going to happen once they got into the Capitol. They would meet their stylist and then they would be dressed up for the first parade. After the parade they would be taken to the training center where they would train for the Hunger Games for a week.

After their escort was done explaining to them Ivan sat by the window and looked out at the passing scenery. When they entered the Capitol he immediately looked away, not wanting to see the odd people of the Capitol cheering cheering, happy that they had more children to put into an arena and force to kill each other. It sickened him to know that he and the other tributes were here for the Capitol's amusement. How could any decent person want to watch innocent kids die horrible, brutal deaths? Horrible didn't even begin to describe what he thought of the Capitol and it's people.

They were pulled into a building when the train stopped. It was amazing, better than any building Ivan had seen in District Twelve. The structure, floors, walls, and ceilings were made of steel which gave it a futuristic feel.

Before Ivan had more time to look around the building he was led to a room where he would be dressed up for the Capitol's parade. If a tribute wanted to make a good impression, that would be the time to make it.

There were three people waiting for him in the room. Apparently he had to be cleaned up before his stylist would come in and see him. He would probably get stuck in a lousy miner's outfit, just like all the former tributes. He just hoped that he wouldn't be in the worst looking outfit there. The amount of sponsors depended heavily on looks, skill being the other part it depended on.

The three people didn't have to work hard to get Ivan ready, the only problem being his tangled hair that he never had reason to keep looking decent. When they were done Ivan sat in a chair in the middle of the room and watched them leave to get his stylist.

It didn't take more than a few moments for a strange Capitol man to appear. His hair was dyed a deep maroon and he seemed to have contacts so his eyes would match. There were silver and gold tattoos on the left side of his face and the right side of his face was covered by his side-swept hair. The man didn't attempt to start a conversation, he simply got to work right away, cutting Ivan's hair so it didn't fall into his eyes.

Soon after the man finished with his hair a miner's outfit was brought in for Ivan to wear. It was in better condition than the clothes the miners would wear in District Twelve. Ivan sighed before putting it on, not bothering to hide his discontent with the outfit. After Ivan had put on the outfit his stylist put a miner's helmet on Ivan's head.

After some final adjustments Ivan was escorted to a room filled with twenty-three other tributes. He walked over to four horses who were as black as the coal he saw so often at home. The horses were hooked up to a cart that would carry Ivan and Toris through the parade.

Ivan and Toris hurried onto the cart when a bell that signaled for the District One tributes to go out through the doors. The other districts would follow in numerical order. When it came time for Ivan's cart to come out the room was empty. Ivan and Toris could hear the crowd screaming and cheering. Once the cart started moving Ivan knew he would have to face the crowd of screaming people so he straightened up and forced a smile onto his face, even though he knew his days were numbered.

(( *facedesk* I spent a few hours writing chapter 3 and the beginning of chapter 4. YAY FOR WASTING TIME~ ))

Chapter Three

Heracles forced a smile and halfheartedly waved to the screaming Capitol crowd. Being from District Two he was expected to want to be in the Hunger Games, but Heracles would much rather be at home sleeping than being here. Most of the boys his age wanted to get into the Hunger Games more than anything and would actually train for them. Working in the mines to get the slabs of stone out of the mountains around them was more than enough to get most people physically ready to Heracles.

When he looked ahead Heracles could see the shiny clothing that was covered in precious gems that the District One tributes wore. The lights reflected off the jewels and spread dots of light onto everything around them. The District One tributes were lucky to wear decent clothing.

Heracles clothing was that of someone who would be working with the slabs of stone that the miners provided from the stone mines. It was dull to say the least, but at least they weren't dressed up like tress like the District Seven tributes.

The carts pulled into the City Circle right by President Snow's mansion. President Snow stepped out onto a balcony and gave the cameras a moment to focus on him. He gave a smile before starting a speech about how the Hunger Games were meant to remind the districts of the Dark Days and to keep them in line.

Heracles sighed, wanting President Snow to shut up so they could go into the Training Center and Heracles could get to his room to sleep. Today had been too hectic for him with the parade, crowds, and stylists.

Snow had taken at least twenty minutes for this speech, but he finally dismissed the tributes, letting them proceed into the Training Center. The Training Center was fairly large with twelve floors for the tributes. One for each district, and it had a floor for training the tributes to handle weapons. These were the only floors that Heracles knew about. There could have been more for all he knew.

After his stylist, mentor, and escort congratulated him and his district partner, Arthur, on how well they handled themselves in the parade, Heracles got into an elevator with other people that he didn't bother to greet. He punched the number two button on the wall and waited for two people ahead of him to get out.

As soon as the elevator doors on his floor opened, Heracles got out and lazily stumbled to the room he was told to stay in. He feel onto the soft, warm, bed, sighing heavily. He was exhausted from the parade and having to rush from place to place. The schedule he was on was too tight for his liking.

Sleep came easily to Heracles but was riddled with nightmares. Most of the sickening images came from previous Hunger Games, but some came from the fears that lurked deep in his mind.

He woke with a start, feeling even more tired than he was when he fell asleep. The sky was a light gray though the sun was still under the horizon.

Heracles fell back into the support of the mattress. He sighed, not sure what triggered these nightmares. He didn't usually have nightmares, not even on the Capitol train. Usually he didn't have dreams at all so it was confusing to him.

After a while Heracles drifted into a more peaceful sleep, one that provided rest and some form of escape from his dreadful reality.

*********************** ((WHEE TIME LAPSE 8D ))

Someone rapped on the door and pushed Heracles back into reality. The sun was up now even though his rest seemed so short. The sound echoed through the room once more. It was most likely his escort wanting to call him to breakfast.

"I'm coming, stop knocking already!" Heracles yelled, in an exasperated tone.

The knocking stopped and instead of saying something the person just walked away. Heracles sighed and got some different clothes from a dresser that was identical to the one from the Capitol train.

Once he had done that he stepped out of his room to see that his escort was bothering Arthur. Heracles laughed silently then walked into the dining room. There was an assortment of foods on the table. His mentor was already stuffing himself with the Capitol food that was so much better than anything they could get in District Two.

He sat down and filled his plate with an assortment of food before Arthur, who looked ready to kill, and his escort, who had a grin on his face, walked in and sat down at the large table. They ate in silence for a while but eventually Arthur decided to break the silence with a question.

"Do you have any advice for training?" Arthur asked

"Hide your strengths, practice on your weaknesses" their mentor said, pointing out what should have been obvious.

Heracles and Arthur both nodded then continued to eat in silence. Once breakfast was over both Arthur and Heracles walked to the elevator and pressed the button that was labeled 'training'. When the doors opened on that floor they found that they were one of the first to arrive. The only other tributes were the two from District Four.

The black haired boy with bright golden eyes waved for them to come over when he recognized that Arthur and Heracles were the District Two tributes. Arthur walked over first, followed by Heracles who had hesitated.

"Hello, my name is Yao!" the boy said, smiling.

"I'm Arthur and this is Heracles" Arthur said, pointing to Heracles.

"Nice to meet you, Yao" Heracles added.

"So I'm assuming we're going to be in an alliance, right?" Yao asked, not pointing out that they would have to kill each other later. (( SILENCE. I KEEL YOU. I needed comic relief. BI ))

"Naturally, we're from the districts where they have careers after all" Arthur replied.

Soon all the tributes had piled into the training room. At ten-thirty a young woman who was in charge of all the training came into the room. She explained what the different stations were for. There were many different skills like archery, fire making, camouflage, swordplay, knife-throwing, identifying plants, and plenty more. Heracles considered all of these helpful, especially in the Hunger Games where you could never know what you might find.

Once the woman released them Heracles calmly walked to the knife-throwing station. There was an assortment of knives, each with a specialized purpose for it. He picked one up and threw it at a training dummy that was fifteen yards away. It was meant to hit the dummy in the head but it hit the dummy's chest instead.

After fifteen minutes of adjusting how he threw the knife he finally hit the head of the dummy which was now covered in fake blood. He found it interesting that hey had put fake blood in the dummy. It was pointless and a waste of time to put fake blood in it though.

He went to the camouflage station and picked up the paint. He remembered the pattern on the ground when the trees that lined the street would shed their vibrant leaves. Soon he had a pattern on his arm of leaves and vines tangled up. The imaginary sunlight cast shadows across the tangled mess of leaves and plants. He set down the paint, satisfied with his work.

After an hour of training all the tributes sat down to eat. Naturally the careers pulled a couple tables together and ate together. Most of the tributes at that table were laughing and smiling and telling stories, with the exception of a blond District Four boy whose name was Henrik. The careers told many stories that took place back in their own district. It was obvious that all of the careers excepted to win and return home.

After lunch everyone went back to training and the careers had their serious exteriors again. Heracles made stops at archery, the spears, and identifying plants before he realized it was almost time to go. He didn't know he was spending so long at each station. At least they had all week.

When they were told that it was time to leave almost everyone dropped what they were doing and rushed to the elevators. Heracles sighed and waited for the crowd at the elevators to disperse. By the time almost everyone had left there were only three other tributes in the room with him.

Finally, after plenty of waiting, an elevator returned and the four tributes left piled into it. Heracles immediately pressed the button for his floor. When he got to his floor he immediately went to his room and collapsed onto his bed. He remembered the camouflage on his arm and he dragged himself to the shower. He pressed some buttons and put his arm under the warm running water.

The colors ran off his arm and down the drain, staining the silver a mix of colors. He watched the colors on his arm mix into a muddy mess and then fall off his arm with the water. Finally all of the paint came off his arm and went down the drain.

The week quickly went by with the same basic routine. Eat, train, sleep. That was Heracles' routine at least.

Soon it was the day of the scoring sessions. The sessions that told everyone your potential. The careers were expected to get high scores. If you weren't a career and got a high score you either were a target or you became a career. Some people in the past had acted weak and purposely got low scores so they could surprise the other tributes with an ability to kill.

Each tribute had fifteen minutes to show their skill and try to impress the gamemakers. Being one of the first tributes to go, Heracles had an advantage. The longer the gamemakers were there, the more distracted they got.

Heracles stood up when his name was called, not really sure what he was going to show the gamemakers. He walked to the door and nodded at the person that he was ready to go in. The door opened and he walked in, ready to show off his skills with a weapon.

Chapter Four

Antonio stepped into the room smiling, like usual. He walked to the center of the room, standing directly in front of the gamemakers. He picked up a bulky axe that was taller than Antonio. He easily cut down some training dummies, rewarded with fake blood splattering all over his clothing. He continued, quickly cutting down the training dummies, staining the floor and himself a crimson red that was meant to represent blood. He saw a training dummy that was just out of reach and used it as an opportunity to make himself stand out.

Antonio climbed onto a dummy he had already ripped apart. He pushed himself off that dummy so he'd collide with the dummy that was suspended in the air. He positioned his axe so it would pierce the dummy's head, splattering fake blood all over his face. He landed on the floor, stumbling a bit before wiping the fake blood out of his eyes

"You may leave" Seneca Crane, the head gamemaker, said flatly.

Antonio nodded, leaving. Antonio stepped into an elevator and pressed the ten button that represented his district and floor that he was staying in. Once the door opened he found Feliks and his escort waiting for him. They gave a questioning look because of the fake blood that stained his clothes and covered his tanned skin.

"The training dummies has fake blood in them." Antonio said, still smiling.

"That's why I didn't, like, touch those dummies." Feliks said, hinting that he would get a terrible score.

"Well we should get to a television before they air the scores." their escort said, being way to cheery

They piled into a room that was meant to be a living room even though it had been barely used. They sat down on the chairs placed in front of the shiny new television that was placed in the room. It flickered to life when someone pressed the power button on the remote. There was a picture of Kiku, a District Three boy, he had a ten which was great, but also expected. Most kids from the higher districts got high scores while the rest usually got average or low scores.

The tributes went by quickly and soon it was time to see Feliks and Antonio's scores. First they showed Feliks' score which was a three. It wasn't surprising because Feliks didn't seem like the type to actually try to get a good score. (( Good job Poland. BD /killed ))

Then for Antonio's score it flashed a nine. Antonio grinned, happy with this result. It was obvious the others were surprised but also happy for him. Now the only thing left was the interviews which Antonio wasn't worried about.

Antonio went to his room, a little tired from the excitement of the day and the scoring session. The interviews would be the next day so he and Feliks would have to get dressed up once again. Thankfully this time it didn't have to have something to do with his district did because Antonio didn't want to look like even more of an idiot again.

Eventually Antonio fell into a restless sleep. Restless due to the death sentence looming over him. The Games were just two days away and Antonio was getting more and more anxious by the second.

***************************************

Antonio woke up a few minutes before someone knocked on the door. He got up and opened the door with a smile plastered onto his face. His escort was standing at the door with a clipboard in hand.

"You need to go to the elevators. Your stylist is waiting for you." His escort said with an authoritative tone.

Antonio nodded and walked to the elevators. Like his escort had said, his stylist was waiting for him there. She had cotton candy pink hair that came down to her shoulders in perfect spirals. Her eyes were a pale blue that stood out from her lightly tanned skin. Her eyeliner and lipstick matched her hair perfectly in color.

Antonio was led to a room so that his stylist could get him ready for the interviews. She dumped some sort of sweet smelling liquid over Antonio's head. It dried almost immediately but it had taken out all of the tangles in his curly hair. He heard his stylist move around behind him and grab something that sounded like fabric.

His stylist gave him a red dressy shirt that went along with black jeans. It seemed as if his stylist was trying to make him look casual so it would be easier to like him or something close to that theory.

He pulled on the new clothes that fit perfectly. Once that was done Antonio stepped inside of the elevator to find Feliks and his escort waiting for him.

"The interviews will be done on the stage outside of the training center." his escort said, pushing Antonio and Feliks into the elevator. They were one of the last ones to arrive at the interviews. Feliks and Antonio got pushed into the lineup of tributes and waited for it to start.

The interviews lasted three minutes for each person. During those three minutes the tribute would show their 'personality' and how they felt about being in the Hunger Games, how they felt about the Capitol, and if they were anxious for the Games. The interviews seemed to go fast and soon it was Feliks' turn which meant Antonio was next.

Antonio shifted around nervously, not sure how the interviews would go. Caesar Flickerman, the man who interviewed the tributes, would surely try to make it go smoothly and try to make it relaxed instead of nerve-racking.

A bell rang, signaling that Feliks' time was up. They called Antonio's name.

Antonio sighed and walked up onto the stage, smiling as nicely as he could.

Chapter Five

Henrik walked onto the brightly lit stage with a blank look on his face. He sat down in an empty chair that was meant for the tributes. Once he had sat down and the crowd had settled down Caesar Flickerman turned to Henrik, obviously mentally preparing the questions he would ask.

"So, how do you feel now that you're a tribute?" Caesar asked enthusiastically.

"I don't really care." Henrik replied, making no effort to please the Capitol citizens.

"Okay" Caesar said a bit nervously "What's your favorite part of the Capitol?"

"I don't like the Capitol." Henrik said, not saying he completely hated the Capitol and the scum who lived in it. (( Oh so nice. ._. ))

"Ah, homesick are you?" Caesar laughed as if that were a joke.

"Not really."

Caesar hesitated, not sure how to continue. "Well how do you feel about your training score? Ten is a very good score after all!"

"I could care less."

There was silence for a while as Caesar thought of what to say. The bell rang, signaling that Henrik's time was up. Henrik automatically stood up, wanting to get off of the stage.

Before Caesar could say anything Henrik had walked off the stage and was leaning against the wall of the training center. He stood there for the remaining of the interviews, ignoring anyone who tried to talk to him.

By the last interview it was obvious that Caesar wasn't happy with how the interviews had gone. It was almost as if he was nervous that he'd be punished for the poor outcome of the interviews.

Once the interviews were over the tributes were rounded up and taken into the training center. Everyone was told to sleep because the next day was the day of the Hunger Games.

Henrik calmly walked into his room, ignoring anyone who tried to talk to him. It would probably be about how he acted in the interview and Henrik really didn't feel like being lectured about that. Besides, if the officials in the Capitol didn't like it they could just kill him in the arena.

Henrik lied on his bed, looking at the ceiling for a while before he started to feel tired. Without even realizing it he had fallen asleep because the next thing he acknowledged was someone at his door, yelling for him to wake up. he sighed, walking to the door to open it. Before he could get to the door it burst open. His escort shoved some clothes into his arms.

"This is what you're to wear into the arena. Once you've changed go to the elevator." his escort said then turned and left.

Henrik sighed and pulled on the clothing. It was a plain black shirt along with normal jeans. It had a belt and a black sweatshirt that reflected heat. It was fairly comfortable which meant it would do just fine when he was moving around.

*******************************************

Henrik stood on the metal plate, waiting for it to take him into the arena where he would most likely die. No one knew what the arena would be like so it all depended on if the arena was in your favor or not. If it had lots of water it would favor him and his district partner, though there were no promises that it would.

A hidden bell rung, telling the tributes that they would soon be taken into the arena. A glass container lowered itself over Henrik. He felt the metal plate start to move and the concrete around him disappeared.

It was pitch black for a moment before he could finally see the dreaded arena.

Chapter Six

Tino looked around at the large, menacing arena around him and the other tributes. It seemed to go on forever. He looked around at the other tributes. A lot of the kids from the lower districts were preparing to run away from the cornucopia, where all of the fighting would surely be.

Tino looked away from the tributes and started to look at the arena around him. There was a pristine mountain in the distance and a forest on the opposite side. Surrounding the cornucopia was a flower field that gave off a strong aroma. A large river cut through the arena, dividing it in half. Unusually large butterflies hovered above the flower field.

The bell rang, telling the tributes to leave their metal plates. Tino immediately started running for the cornucopia but felt that something was wrong. Everyone seemed to move slower and the butterflies seemed more alert. Once a district Six boy named Ludwig was stung, the danger of the butterflies was clear. Ludwig froze, his eyes wide, then collapsed. His body started shaking violently from a seizure brought on by the poison that was injected into his body by the butterfly. Ludwig's body fell still and now everyone knew what the butterflies did. (( Evil butterflies are evil. 8D ))

Tino continued running towards the cornucopia, dodging the the butterflies that were now looking for their next victim. Soon all the careers were at the cornucopia, picking out their weapons. Tino picked up a sleek, silver bow that had a sheath of silver arrows next to it. He and the other tributes spread out and started taking out some of the other tributes that hadn't gotten out of range in time. Tino hesitated for a moment before shooting a blond District Three boy.

Tino turned and walked back to the cornucopia to collect the remaining supplies. Unexpectedly a District Eleven boy with glasses jumped out of the shadows of the cornucopia and tried to take down Tino. Before he had a chance he fell to his knees, blood flooding out of his mouth and a knife stuck in his throat. He fell flat on his face, dying quickly.

Henrik walked up and yanked the knife of the boy's throat and put it on his belt.

"We're going after the tributes in the forest. Get your stuff." Henrik said calmly.

The careers gathered at the cornucopia, sitting in the shade while going over their stuff. When they looked over their supplies they had plenty of food and weapons. There were also night vision glasses which would help with moving around at night.

By the time they were done with that the sun was low in the sky. A cannon fired, signaling the start of the death toll. Everyone fell silent, counting the cannon fires. There were four cannon fires. Four deaths.

"Well let's go, aru!" Yao pulled a plain black bag over his shoulder.

They walked through the field, taking out some of the poisonous butterflies. Once they got the the edge of the forest they agreed to meet at the cornucopia if they got separated. After walking for about a mile they heard someone in the bushes behind them. They continued, now being more cautious.

Tino heard Roderich start to yell something but he stopped suddenly. Everyone turned to see a tall boy from District Twelve drop Roderich's limp body. A cannon fired, signaling Roderich's death.

Without warning the boy grabbed Arthur by the throat, cutting open his stomach and letting a blo*dy mess spill out onto the ground. Tino stared at the blo*dy scene until he realized that the others would be expecting him to shoot the boy. (( BI Why is blo*dy a word that's censored. *had to come back and fix this* ))

Before Tino could get an arrow out of his sheath a knife flew past his head, barely missing him. The knife lodged itself in the boy's head, killing him immediately. A cannon fired.

Henrik took his knife out of the boy's head and took the knife clutched in his hand. Another cannon fired which showed that Arthur's suffering was over. The boy who killed Arthur and Roderich didn't have any food, supplies, or weapons other than his knife so the group continued on, having no reason to linger any longer.

They continued until nightfall when they decided to take a short break. They decided that Heracles would take the first watch so the others could rest. Tino quickly fell asleep, exhausted from the events of the day. (( They're genius. PUT GREECE ON WATCH. SO. SMART. ))

************************************************

Tino was woken up by the others who were more alert because of a fire nearby. They crept through the woods hoping that the person who had started the fire was still there and that this wasn't trap.

When they had reached the fire they found a blond boy sleeping by it. Tino recognized this boy because he was flirting with everyone, especially with the only girl of the twenty-four tributes. Yao crept up behind the boy and put a sword to his neck. The boy woke up feeling the cold metal of the sword against his neck.

"What are you- GET OFF!" the boy yelled, acting so much differently than he had at the training center.

Yao didn't say anything and slit the boy's throat, stepping away before the crimson blood spilled out onto his clothes. The boy had nothing with him so they walked away and heard a cannon fire. After walking for a while the Capitol seal appeared in the sky and the anthem of Panem played. He saw that this year they had their names and district number so they could be easily identified. Everyone looked up at the sky, waiting to see who was dead.

Tino noted who was dead so he would know. Roderich, Arthur, Eduard, Ludwig, Francis, Elizabeta, Alfred, and Ivan. Eight people were dead already. It wasn't that much of a surprise since this was the first day but it still amazed him how many had died.

"We should rest" Heracles suggested.

"I'll take the first watch." Tino sighed, sitting down at the base of a tree.

Everyone started setting up their own little area to sleep without hesitation. Soon everyone but Tino was asleep. Tino sighed, starting to wonder if he should be with the careers. It was some form of protection so it must have been a good idea, though the others could decide to turn on each other at any moment. Tino decided to leave once the group of careers got smaller. That way he would be in a group for a while, which usually meant safety early on in the games, then he could travel on his own and not have to worry about the people around him turning on him.

When Yao woke up and decided to take the watch, Tino didn't refuse and he fell asleep quickly. In the following days he would need all the sleep he could get.

Chapter Seven

Gilbert sat in the tree, watching the careers as Antonio set traps in the area. He had come across Antonio when he was traveling through the dense forest. They had both figured that having an alliance, for the moment, was better than traveling alone, especially with the careers hunting everyone.

Antonio climbed up into the tree, sitting down next to Gilbert on the branch. They sat in silence for a while, waiting for the careers to move out of earshot. They didn't have enough people to take on the careers on their own, even if Gilbert had a sword and Antonio had a huge axe. They would be outnumbered and the careers had grown up training with weapons and learning how to survive while Gilbert had grown up working in a textile factory and going to school and Antonio had worked with cattle.

The careers seemed to be doing good even if they had lost two people of their group already. They probably never even cared about those people in the first place, this was the Hunger Games after all. Everyone was expected to kill or be killed even though some tributes didn't have the heart or skill to kill another tribute.

After a few hours the careers finally decided to get moving. It seemed that they were going back to the cornucopia to rest and probably put some supplies that they didn't need. If the careers didn't have their stuff at the cornucopia Gilbert would suggest to stay in the cornucopia. It was sturdy and would provide some form of shelter.

"Well I'm glad we didn't get caught. Those idiots didn't even realize that we were here" Gilbert laughed.

"Yea bu-" Antonio stopped when he heard someone from behind them

There was the sound of rustling and someone cursing profusely. Antonio jumped out of the tree, landing easily on the ground below. Gilbert followed, wondering who was the idiot that fell for the trap.

They saw a boy from District five hanging upside-down off the branch. Gilbert remembered him from the training center because of his hair that seemingly defied gravity. He wasn't the brightest. (( That's true. |D /killed ))

"Hey, you should let me down!" he laughed as if they weren't supposed to kill each other.

"When you're dead we will." Gilbert replied coldly, making no attempt to negotiate with him.

The boy smirked "You seem smart. Not trusting many people"

"Well it is the Games." Gilbert said.

Before anyone else could say or do anything a cannon fired. Gilbert's knife was buried in the boy's skull, killing him immediately. Without saying anything Gilbert took the boy's bag and slung it over his shoulder, put the knife on his belt and climbed clumsily into the tree. Once he had gotten high enough he stopped and made himself comfortable. He found that Antonio had followed him into the tree.

"Why didn't you at least try to negotiate with him? It's not like he was trying to kill us at the moment..." Antonio asked.

"Because this is the Games. Any alliance at this point will be short lived so it's better to kill the other tributes" Gilbert explained.

Antonio nodded, not bothering to ask why they were in an alliance if Gilbert really felt that way. After resting in that tree for a while they started moving again, making sure that they weren't being followed by the careers or any other tributes. Soon the river split into two and Gilbert and Antonio walked on the thin strip of land in between the two rivers.

It seemed that someone else was in the area because soon they saw the remains of a campfire with coals that were still hot.

"Looks like we might have company." Gilbert said in a low voice.

Antonio nodded, holding his axe so that it would be easy for him to use it if there were to be a moment when he needed it. Just as he did that a blond boy from District Five tackled Gilbert to the ground, plunging a knife into his chest.

"Son of a-" Gilbert started to say but was cut off by a knife to his throat.

A cannon fired signaling that Gilbert had died. Antonio quickly hit the other tribute, cutting open his head with the axe. The tribute fell to the ground and a cannon fired.

Antonio sighed, taking Gilbert's and the boy's stuff and he started to walk away. He looked up at the sky, seeing that the sun was starting to set. He was now alone in this arena and would be alone for the rest of the Games. (( YES. I FINISHED POSTING ALL THE CHAPTERS THAT I'VE WRITTEN. I'm still in the process of writing Chapter Eight though. ))

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Last edited by Alina Lupei on Sat Dec 03, 2011 5:32 pm; edited 5 times in total
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Sasha Braus

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Join date : 2011-08-14
Location : hell, probably

PostSubject: Characters   Wed Nov 30, 2011 10:53 am

(( Okey. I thought it would be a good idea to post who's who in the story. So I'll do that. owo

District One: Roderich Edelstein Dead
Tino Väinämöinen

District Two: Heracles Karpusi
Arthur Kirkland Dead

District Three: Kiku Honda
Eduard Von Bock Dead

District Four: Henrik Bondevik
Yao Wang

District Five: Søren Mikkelson Dead
Vash Zwingli Dead

District Six: Ludwig Beilschmidt Dead
Feliciano Vargas

District Seven: Matthew Williams
Berwald Oxensteirna

District Eight: Francis Bonnefoy Dead
Gilbert Beilschmidt Dead

District Nine: Elizabeta Héderváry Dead
Ravis Galante

District Ten: Feliks Łukasiewicz
Antonio Fernandez Carriedo

District Eleven: Alfred F. Jones Dead
Lovino Vargas

District Twelve: Ivan Braginski Dead
Toris Laurinaitis

YEY. I HAVE SUCCESSFULLY WASTED MY TIME. 8D *did this to procrastinate on typing up the story* ))

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