Needing the Impossible (A Clato Fanfic)

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Cato's POV

“Ten, nine, eight,” the countdown echos around in my skull. I can feel the heat rising in my veins. Adrenaline courses through my body. Energy dwells in every crevice of my being. I'm here. I'm really here. It's about to begin.

“Seven, six, five, four,” My muscles are tensed in a crouched position, ready for the dash to the cornucopia. My senses are on high alert as I take in every site, smell, and sound around me. Fear is a tangible thing. It thickens the air, making it reek with the puny emotions of timidity and uncertainty. Glancing around at the faces of my opponents, it's easy to know who'll be dead before the day is over.

“Three.” I lean forward on my pedestal.

“Two.” I lick my lips in anticipation. I'm dying for this to begin. I'm ready to kill. Ready to win.

“One.” I lunge off my platform and sprint at full speed towards the cornucopia. In my peripheral vision, I see most of the other tributes doing the same. But I have an advantage; I'm facing the mouth of the golden statue. Being two of the fastest competitors, Amber and Clove reach the center of the large pile the same time I do. I monitor them out of the corner of my eye as I seize my weapon of choice, a sword. Turning quickly, I spy my first victim. A sandy-haired boy has been stupid enough to enter into the deepest part of the pile of supplies and is reaching for another one of the swords. I lunge towards him and he reacts in time to deflect my first blow. But I'm far more skilled than he is, and my first blow knocks the sword from his hand. A second swing, and his life is over. He crumples to the ground, blood gushing from his severed neck.

Taking a quick survey of the battle field, it's clear to see that chaos reigns. Clove is in pursuit of two tributes who appear to be fighting over a backpack, Marvel is fighting it out with another tribute using a sword, as he hasn't been able to acquire a spear yet, Amber and Glimmer are still trying to find someone to attack, and Eamon is about to kill a red-headed girl lying on the ground at his feet.

Eamon. All my senses hone in on his form as he rears back to deliver the death blow. I know now is the perfect time. His back is to me and he's completely distracted. I race forward, noticing nothing but the brute of a boy in front of me. The only person who could possibly prevent me from winning these Games. I hear a shrill scream as his sword descends, and then the noise is cut short as the blade of his ax meets her chest. Blood gushes out of her wound and he begins to straighten up, already turning his head to search out his next victim. But that's not going to happen. My sword plunges through the right side of his back and he lets out a shout of pain. Twisting the blade, I ensure his death and extract the sword from his body. He falls to the ground, screaming in agony and bleeding profusely. I want to kick him over onto his back, leer over him so he can know just how his life was ended, but I don't have time. This bloodbath isn't over, and there are plenty of other tributes to kill.

I whirl around, scanning the battle field as I turn. Marvel has succeeded in killing the boy he'd been fighting with, Clove is in hot pursuit of Katniss – that could be a problem, I wanted her for myself – and Glimmer and Amber have both finally found themselves something useful to do. They're both going at it with petty females who didn't score higher than sixes in training. Several other fights have broken out, and I chose to approach one between two scrawny looking boys. Somehow, they managed to slip past our guard and are both armed, one with an ax and the other with a large knife. The boy with the ax finally manages to lodge his weapon into his opponents stomach, and the boy to falls to the ground, vomiting blood and writhing in pain. His attacker backs away, appalled at what he's done, unable to finish him off. This is his fatal mistake. In his distraction, he doesn't see me coming, and I kill him with one swift blow. I turn my attention back to the other boy, but he lies dead on the ground. Lifeless in a pool of his own blood.