My final story to be told~ Cato's story (hungergames)

(15) Blood is colouring the arena

(15) Blood is colouring the arena

With one second left on the countdown I jump from my platform, hitting the ground exactly when the countdown has finished. Thank God I timed it well or I would've been blown up by the mines. I run rapidly to my haven with weapons which can prevent me from dying. I see the weapon platform at the back of the cornucopia and my sword is there. The sword I used in tue Academy is just lying there, or it is a copy, but it is still there. This pushes me to run harder and I quickly glance over my shoulder to see that everyone is behind me.

I arrive at the cornucopia at the same time as Marvel and Tresh is close, so I grab the sword and turn around to face the others. The sword fits perfectly in my grip, is balanced and causes my adrenaline to pump through my blood vessels. I stand with my feet wide and am ready to slash my blade into Tresh. I raise my arm with the sword and wait for him.

His expression on his face does not show fear for me, the blade or death, instead it shows confidence. 5 metres, 4, 3, 2. He storms right at me with his arms before his face as protection. I swing my blade at him, but quit when he morphed into the appearance of somebody else. His hair turns into the orangy red and his face changes into that of Ycie.It isn't Tresh running at me, but my dead friend. I shake my head and Tresh is back bumping into me, causing me to fall and lose the grip of my sword. I scrabble up from the ground, grab my sword and run into the open field to release my adrenaline.

My cheeks are burning, sweat is moisturing my hair and my eyes see red mist at the edges of my sight. How could he have morphed into Ycie? He is dead and your mind is playing tricks on you goddamnit. Focus on the reality Cato. Death is lurking for you.

I see the boy, who sat next to me in the hovercraft, running away with a rucksack with supply. A smirk appears on my face as I take large and quick sreps to the fleeing boy. The red mist slowly fades from my sight and I start snickering. He glances around and pure terror is in his face and he is shaking. Instead of running further away from he turns around and faces me with nothing, but the bag is his arms to protect him from my anger. I slash the bag repeatedly, cutting it in one spot and then hit one of his arms. Pain spreads through his body as a beautiful red line runs over his veins. I stab him in the guts, twist the body and ignore the screams and cries and tears. I pull my sword out of his body and leave him in agony, but am sure he will die because I cut one of his arteries open.

I see Marvel throwing his spear, Glimmer doing combat with a dagger and Clove is throwing her knives. In the search for my next victim I run toward the cornucopia where somebody is crawling with my stuff. I jump over a lifeless body, do a summersault to dodge Marvel's spear flying to a tribute behind me and kick the head of a small boy. He can't even glance up to see his attacker because the blade has already pierced his back, through the spine, and makes him cough blood.

Most of the tributes have fled the bloody place of murder near the Cornucopia, except the bodies of the dead ones. They are lying in the short, yellowy dead grass, that is coloured red at some spots by their blood, that are flowing or have flowed out of their wounds, caused by children with about the same age. I don't wanted this to happen, but the horror scene nestles itself deep inside the dark part of my brain where I keep the memories I wanted to forget so badly. One corpse is still moving and not lying in red coloured grass.

 I whistle the others to gather in front of the cornucopia to have a meeting. My glance doesn't stop checking if the body is crawling away. "Did you saw me slicing those tributes up into little pieces? You probably have as they cried and screamed for their parents and begged for their lives." Glimmer snickers, but despite having done it myself I am disgusted by her. Clove's hands are drenched in blood of the innocent and Marvel's face is wet with sweat, caused by chasing the ones who ran for their lives.