The Capitol Games

CHAPTER ONE-

*BEFORE THE 75TH HUNGER GAMES*

*Cinna’s POV*

“I’m still betting on you.” I whisper to Katniss adjusting her mocking jay pin onto her jumpsuit. I embrace her. Her suit sticky with sweat. Each drop a new level of nervousness. She clutches onto my leather jacket and pulls me towards her more. As if my jacket was her sanity slipping away and she is struggling to keep the glue bonded. The glass tube behind her is the only other thing lingering in the area.

“That dress you made-” She starts.

I interrupt her stridently, “Shh.” My finger presses against her rosy lips. A frozen blue starting to crawl up in little cracks. I adjust her jumpsuit,

“Sheer fabric… so I’m guessing tropics or desert but you can never be too sure.” I smile, trying to comfort her the least bit. Even though I won’t be doing anything but giving her a reason to lose her mind.

“Ten seconds.” The intercom’s robotic female voice reminds us. And as she slips into the tube and the glass casing seals around her body. An eerie silence fills the air. And suddenly everything is still… absolutely still. The glass tube doesn’t rise. Katniss’s chestnut eyes still shockingly stare at me. Like a startled owl. I nod my head as her eyes lock onto mine. Then I feel a blow on the right side of my head. Black dots blind my vision and I get a crushing sensation on my ribs. I smell the bitter smell of crimsion blood and I hear Katniss’s wails through the glass tube. The pounding of her palms on the surface. And the white boots of the peacekeepers.

And that’s how it all started.

*THE DAY AFTER THE 75TH HUNGER GAMES*

I wake up in a room. A room surrounded by spongey like fabric. A huge plasma screen television and a camera is set up on one of the far sides of the room. Almost like those rooms that they treat mental patients in. I punch the white sponge in frustration. My hand is embedded into the sponge as it slowly starts to replace itself.

“Cinna Jackson! You have been selected as male tribute for District 12 in the Seventy Sixth annual hunger games! Operated by District Thirteen!” A voice booms in the spongey room. I look at the television to see a man with a gray bull cut and silver eyes wearing a peacekeeper suit. District Thirteen? District Thirteen doesn’t exist…

“What the hell?” I say.

“CINNA!?” A voice squeals. I look at the television again. And I see her.

“VENIA!.”