Deceived: The 500th Annual Hunger Games

Chapter 11 - Training: Day 3

MAJORIS BAXWOLL'S P.O.V

I went to the sledgehammer area. I haven't done a single thing else since I got here. I'm taking over the Cornucopia. Who's gonna stop me?
I don't need to learn about edible plants or survival skills or anything stupid. I'm Majoris Baxwoll, the best Career out there.

I knocked the temple of the dummy in front of it. I imagine every dummy's face to be Zak's. He stole Topaz.

I'm killing Zak first in the Bloodbath.

The instructor looked at his watch. "Majoris, you haven't done anything but pound dummy after dummy since you got here. What if they don't put a sledgehammer in the Cornucopia.?"

"Sponsors. I'll get them. I'm the best." I replied coldly. I'm going insane, I know it. Every time I see Zak, something inside of me snaps. I want to watch him squirm underneath me, my sledgehammer driving down on every important organ. His heart, his brain, his lungs. I want to see him suffer.

The instructor just sat and observed me, taking notes like the gamemakers. I'm gonna get a 12 in my private session. Everyone has seen me use a sledgehammer now. They can't deny my power.

Dummies, all carrying swords, advanced towards me. They swung at me all at once. I used my sledgehammer as a defence mechanism, the metal of their swords colliding with the sledgehammer. I swung at the first dummy's back, knocking it to the floor. That would've broken a human's back in an instant.

Another dummy swung at me, missing my face by an inch. I shoved the butt of the hammer into its skull, knocking it off guard. I ducked as the other dummy swung and hit its fellow robot, slicing its arm off.

I threw my hammer at the last standing dummy. It hit him right in the neck, snapping its head off. I did good.

I sat down and started to think to myself - what should I do now? There will be a sledgehammer, I'll make sure of that. However, I should maybe learn to use a dagger. It'll be easier to slowly torture Zak when I get my hands on him, using my hammer to deliver the fatal blow.

I went over to the dagger section and faced the same robots I'd been facing for 2 and a half days now. They flew towards me in a wrestling style. I've never really tried hand to hand combat before. Might as well try now.

I wrestled the dummy to the ground and stabbed it in the gut. I twisted the dagger in circles, cutting its plastic insides to bits.

I then flipped and launched myself into another dummy, slitting its throat and leaving it to bleed to death.

I rolled as a sword almost hit me. That would've sliced my arm right off if this was a real battle. I threw my dagger, stabbing it in the shoulder. I've been so close to having my shoulder pierced since I arrived here. It isn't funny.

That reminds me, I need to kill Chester and that little squirt from District 5 who threw that spear at me.

I grabbed the dagger and sliced at its vital organs, ripping the skin to pieces, cutting to the bone.

I got up and turned to stab.

"Jesus stop!" A male cried. Atlus stood there, his hands shielding his face. I almost stabbed my best friend. Oops. It doesn't matter though, we all know he won't be the victor of the 500th Hunger Games.

"Oops, sorry," I said bitterly, "did I startle you?"

Atlus pinned me against the wall. What? Get off of me you douche. You could barely survive me flicking your forehead.

"Sort your shit out Majoris," Atlus spat at me. "We're fed up of your jealousy. You have until the last night here at the dinner to sort yourself out, or consider yourself a Bloodbath tribute."

I shrugged. I don't need them. I don't need anybody. I am Majoris Baxwoll, the best tribute alive. No one is gonna call me a Bloodbath Tribute without being slaughtered in the bloodbath themselves.

Atlus turned and left. "Remember, you have 3 nights." Atlus found Some other Career tributes.

Bring it on then. I'll destroy them all on my own.


IVORY FENNEL'S P.O.V

Yohan was sat down observing the poisonous plants from the Mellark's book. He was shivering, trying not to cry.

Maxwell had a word with me in the first day of training, telling me about Yohan's bad dream. I've been relying on Maxwell the last few nights, seeing as apart from me and his family, he is the only one who can comfort him, being a family man himself.

I keep reassuring him that his family have not been harmed. The poor guy, he has so many siblings, he can't die.

Saying that, it'll be less mouths to feed at dinner times.

But, Yohan feeds his family. So do I. We have to get out of here. We can't die here.

If we do die though, we're going to die as martyrs. I'm going to die for what I believe in. I believe that we learnt our lessons within the first 20 Games ever. Why our generation still recovers the punishments, I'll never know. I believe in peace and freedom.

I wonder how our grain fields are back home. I would spend almost 10 hours a day slaving in the fields, but I didn't mind. It fed my family. And Yohan's. Plus, the sun and the fresh air was beautiful. I haven't been outside for almost 3 days. I feel slightly claustrophobic. I want to be in the fields of District 9, not in the Training Centre at the Capitol.

I started to identify the edible plants. I noticed certain leaves and berries, recognising them from other Games and my home. I missed my home.

I volunteered. I didn't even need to be here. I could've let someone else die, leaving a me an entire year free of fear and worry about getting reaped.

Yohan continiued to whimper in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth slightly. Gently, I sat down beside him and wrapped my arm around him.

"Yohan, your dreams aren't real. Your family have not been abducted by the Capitol." I reassured him. "They are safe. They are not being tortured or abused. They are okay. I promise."

Yohan shook his head. "They're being tortured right now, by being forced to watch their son die on national television," Yohan whimpered. He was right.

If these were the thoughts he was having now, I can't begin to imagine his state when if he wins the Games. He'll become like Annie Cresta. She watched her best friend get decapitated. They cancelled the victory tour because of her state.

I see Yohan going the same way if he wins.

I shook my head, trying to get rid of the thoughts. "Yohan, I think you should go and take a break. Why not go and learn about constructing fires? That way you can learn and do activities, putting your mind off of things. You haven't done that before." I said, "besides, it could improve your arm strength slightly, helping you throw those shurikens better."

Yohan smiled. The shurikens have been his favourite part of the Capitol. He won a competition yesterday, boosting his confidence until nighttime, where he was left with his nightmares.

I helped him up and took his hand as we got up and headed to the fire making station.


WADE SHINOLA'S P.O.V

Ovid and I were taken into a little room. We arrived to see Nancee, Runyon and Velorum there. It looked just like every Hunger Games starting area. The golden horn was at the back of the room, surrounded by 24 plates.

"Hey guys," the lady said, "this is the timing practice. Each of you hop onto a plate."

I jumped onto a little plate to the left of the horn. The nearest tribute to me was Nancee, being about 5 plates over from me.

"Now, there will be no klaxon, so you'll have to judge the timing in your head. There will be various noises and visual things to try and distract you." The instructor carried on. "Your time starts now. Good luck."

I counted down from 60 in my head, trying to think of a way to steady the pace. 56 hunger games, 55 hunger games, 54 hunger games.

I noticed a boom in the distance, and dirt flying through the air, as if a tribute stepped off of the plate. If we stepped off of the plate in this exercise, we'd only get shocked.

Ovid and Velorum screeched as the dirt showered over their bodies, distracting them. 44 hunger games, 43 hunger games, 42 hunger games, 41 hunger games.

I could smell something really nice. It smelt like the cookies from the local bakery. The sweet, warm scent drifted under my nose, trying to not only distract me, but tempt me off of the plate to find the delicious treats.

People's heads turned, sniffing all around them. Others were getting distracted. No. I can't be distracted. 29 hunger games, 28 hunger games, 27 hunger games.

The 'breeze' picked up, catching everyone off balance. People swayed side to side. Nancee swore as she fell off of her plate, receiving a shock. People turned to the cursing girl. 17 hunger games, 16 hunger games, 15 hunger games.

Velorum looked over at me. I tried my best not to let him catch me out. I will not be distracted. I have to be focused. 8 hunger games, 7 hunger games.

Runyon yelled as he recorded a shock, misjudging the time. 3 hunger games, 2 hunger games, 1 hunger game.

I leapt off of the pad before anyone else, sprinting as hard as I could to the golden horn full of items. Robots progressed out, wired to act like Careers. I bent over and picked a pack before rolling out of the way. I noticed a dagger on the floor next to me, most likely thrown by a robot. I grabbed it and ran away, past the plates and into the safe zone.

Ovid reached me with a sword and a loaf of bread. Velorum was fighting 3 robots at once, slicing each of them across the face, neck and chest with the trident in his hand. He yelped as a shock went off. A robot had thrown a knife at the back of his neck.

Let's hope that happens to him in the games. I want nothing to do with anyone from District 1. They killed my brother.

The instructor pulled a lever, shutting the robots off. "Great job Ovid and Wade. You other guys, keep going. Let's go again. Practice makes perfect!"