Tribute or Victor

Chapter 9

"Come on it can't be that bad. At least well get to play with some cool midevil weapons before we are brutally stabbed to death by one of the other tributes in here." You couldn't help but laugh once he had said this. Peter had that affect on you somehow. He made what should be a horrible experience seem not as bad even if it were just for a second. He also brought out the older sister side of you, the side that wanted to protect and keep safe.

The other tributes looked over at you like you were crazy, but you didnt care as you wrapped your arm around Peters shoulders, walking over to the seats where you were supposed to wait to be given instructions about how this was going to work.

(Time skip...again)

"Uuuugh," you whine, belly flopping onto your unbelievably squishy bed. You had finished your first day of training, and you felt like you were gonna die. The worst part was remembering that you would have to do it all over again the next day.

You glance over at your clock, realizing you still had two hours until dinner. You contemplated on taking a nap, and decided that was the best option, until you remembered that Peter hung back in the training room. He said he would only be a few minutes, but it has been closer to thirty.

You jump back up, your legs aching, as make your way back down to the training room. "Hey, Peter," you call his name as you walk through the doors. "Pet-" You're cut off but a loud battle cry and the clanking of metal on metal. Your eyes dart around the room, noticing the bloody bodies of two peacekeepers on the floor, and you freeze when you see a tribute twice Peter's size pinning him to the ground, Peter fighting to keep a machete from slicing through his throat as the larger tribute forced it down with his arms. "Get off of him," you exclaim, snatching a spear from a nearby weapons rack and knocking the tribute in the back of the head, making him roll off Peter. "Come on," you shout to Peter, pulling him up off the ground and sprinting towards the doors with him.

Seconds before you reach the handle, something goes flying past your head, lodging itself into the keypad to unlock the door, frying the system. Loud clanks can be heard from the other two exits, mesh gates sliding down to block the doors, trapping you all inside the room.

"You aren't going anywhere. I'm here to win, and the more of you I can take out before the games even start, the better," he growls. He takes a new machete from the rack closest to him, and continues pacing towards you and Peter.

"Up the nets!" Peter exclaims, grabbing your arm and rushing over to the large net wall that leads up to the ceiling. You both start climbing as the boy runs up behind you two, swinging his machete and slicing your calf open just before you can pull your leg up, also cutting the rest of the rope wall, letting it fall to the floor. You cry out, kicking your foot down, smashing his nose with your heel. "(Y/n) hurry up!" Peter had already made it to the top of the net, and was dangling, struggling to get his feet into the holes for support. You continue to climb, blood dripping down your leg and onto the floor, splattering across the boys face, along with his broken, bloody nose, only making him look even crazier.

The tribute comes back, now weilding spears, pulling them back behind his head before launching them up towards where you were climbing. You finally reach the top, Peter grabbing your arm to help you up the last little bit as you both lean to dodge the spear. Commotion can be heard by the doors, guards in white suits running around, trying to get the doors open with the system shut down.

"They need to hurry and get those doors the fuck open," Peter snaps, seconds before a spear comes flying past his hand, slicing through one of the knots in the rope. Peter's hand slips, and he goes tumbling towards the ground, landing on his back while a deafening crack sounds through the room.

"Peter!" You scream as his face contorts in pain and shock. The tribute hovers over him, spear in hand.  Just as he brings his arm down, ready to plunge it into Peter's gut, you jump down from the rope, wrapping your legs around his neck and twisting your hips, trying to ignore the searing pain in your calf. He spins away from Peter and tips to the side, falling onto one of the weapon racks along with you. You roll away once you hit the ground, watching with wide eyes when you see a bloody machete blade potruding from the tributes chest. His body spazoms as he coughs, blood coating his teeth and trickling out of his mouth. He turns his head to face you before his eyes go blank, rolling into the back of his head. After a few seconds of just sitting there, the shock of everything that had just happened still spinning through your mind, you remember Peter laying on the ground.

You run back over to him, collapsing at his side, blood coating the floor. At first you thought it was your blood, but then you see the slow gush coming from a gash in his neck. Only then do you realize the spear must have hit Peter before he fell from the rope. "Peter," you whisper, lifting his head up gently to see if his eyes would focus. He makes no attempt to get up, his eyes staring off into the distance with a blank look. "Peter. Come on. Please wake up," you beg, tears streaming down your cheeks.

The next few minutes seemed to go by in slow motion. Clanks and clatters can be heard from behind you as one of the mesh gates slide open, guards and special forces people that roam the Capital rushing inside. Sobs shake your body as you clutch onto Peters tribute jacket, blood splattered across the grey fabric, turning it black. Hands grip onto your arms, dragging you backwards, away from the body of the boy who you had grown to see as a little brother in one short week. "No! No!" you screech, clawing at their hands and flailing your body as they pull you out of the training room.

Once Peters body was out of your sight, the guards pull you over to a wall, forcing you to sit down. You gasp for air as you continue to cry, wiping at your eyes furiously. Blood smears across your face, only making your tears fall even harder. Tafida runs into the hallway, her heels clicking, questions spewing from her plump, silver-lined lips.

"Oh! Good heavens!" She exclaims, rushing over to you. She reaches down for you, but you forcibly slap her hands away, a hard glare crossing your face as tears continue to slide down your cheeks.

"Don't act like you care now," you growl, rage and sadness coursing through your body. Adrenalin allowed you to stand up and walk to the elevator, leaving a trail of bloody footprints in your wake. Gizmo runs around the corner, taking in your current state. Her eyes go wide. She gently grabs onto your arm, silently pulling you towards a side room farther down the hallway, just enough so you could no longer hear the commotion. She lays you down on a bed with parchment paper covering it. It crinkles and cracks as you sit down, silently examening the room. You suddenly felt void of all emotions. Numb. Non-existing. Senseless. Deadened. The most emotion you could show were a few tears as Gizmo cleaned your leg. The last thing you remember before your world went blank was the sting of the disinfectant on your leg, and the images of tonight burned into your mind.

Hello guys!!! Oh my gosh I am so freaking sorry! I promise I haven't forgotten about you all! Please go check out my Random Announcments book at least a day after this chapter is posted, and I will explain everything. But, as long as everything goes according to plan, I AM BACK!!! Please comment what you think about this chapter, and what do you think will happen next? I'd love to hear how you guys want this story to go, and maybe I'll incorporate some of your ideas!
Anyways, I hope you all have a great day, and stay safe and healthy,
Anna