A blazing heat. A crackling of twigs. The snapping of trees as they succumbed to the roaring flames. Walls of red and orange and yellow with tiny flickers of blue and green in their depths. And the frantic screams of my parents and sister.
"Keep running, son. Don't stop until we reach water!" my father urged.
I nodded through the plumes of smoke and pumped my legs harder. It was going to be alright. Everything would be just fine.
A huge tree smothered in flames crashed to the ground right in front of me. I cried out in panic and half-leaped over it, half-ran into it. I nearly made it with the momentum on my side but it wasn't enough. My foot caught on a branch engulfed in flames and it pulled me down. The ankle wrenched sickeningly as I hit the ground and my sharp shout punctured the constant sounds of the flames and fleeing animals.
But I couldn't let that slow me down so I grabbed the knife in my belt and hacked at the wood trapping my foot with the hilt until it splintered and I fell loose.
I climbed shakily to my feet and hobbled painfully after my family, away from the flames, to water.
That is, until I realized I was completely lost.
"Dad! Mom!" I yelled, panic quickly claiming my expression and feelings. "Mom! Dad!"
A bird trilled my tones and I snapped my head around, looking for the sound's origin. A small mockingjay swooped beside my ear and twittered again. I followed it away from wildfire as it maneuvered between trees until I came into a long stretch of empty land with a pond, and I spotted my sister.
"Jess!" I called out and her smoke-stained face shot up.
"Jay!" She yelled back, her face a picture of delighted surprise. I pulled Jess into a comforting hug and patted her back. "How'd you find me?" Jess raised her head to looked at me.
"A mockingjay actually lead me here." I admitted. A bird saved me. I'll never call someone a birdbrain again.
Jess' eyes widened. "One lead me here, too!" She laughed. Yup, defiantly not ever calling anyone a birdbrain anytime soon.
I smiled. "Mockingjays really are lifesavers, huh?"
The look Jess gave me clearly said, "You have no idea."
"Where's mom and dad?" I questioned as I held her at arms length after examining her wounds. I looked around, desperately hoping they'd walk out into view. But the look on Jess' face had my own face paling.
"I don't know," she said in distress. "We got separated not long after you." Her small body shook in fright and she seemed to wilt under my gaze.
"So, mom and dad are missing? Or we're lost?" I asked to clarify. Jess nodded. I sighed. "Well, grab your bag. It's gonna be a long walk to Thirteen."
I never really will remember what made me think of this particular memory. Its not a happy memory, I can tell you that. Maybe the seagulls and the water being the exact opposites of the nature in my memory but something nonetheless triggered my mind.
"Naomi, have you ever seen a mockingjay?" I questioned tentatively.
Silence greeted my question. Not complete silence, because the soft slapping of waves and cries of a seagull punctured any complete, total, deafening silence. No, this silence was void of only human noises.
"Naomi?" I asked cautiously.
It all happened so fast, as I'll recall later. First, the terrified scream. "Run, Jay!"
Then the muffling of words like someone clamped their hand over Naomi's mouth. And finally, the sickening sound of blade ripping flesh and the gurgle of fresh blood.
I whirled around, dagger up in hand and poised to strike. But a massive hand knocked the weapon from my grip and it clattered on the cement as rough hands gripped me by the shoulders and lifting me off the ground. My body went limp from terror like the bones were draining from my body. I felt very vulnerable as I stared wide-eyed into the raging face of a very angry Peter Mask.
"Uh, h-hey Peter," I stuttered nervously with a shaky laugh. "Fancy meeting you here."
Peter didn't find this amusing. "Did you kill him?" He demanded, shaking me to emphasize his point.
I opened my mouth to reply, to ask who 'him' was in a final defense of innocence when a puddle of scarlet caught my attention.
Naomi lay still, her chest unmoving, with her throat slitted and Shyen Ann standing over her. There was a large bruise between Shyen Ann's eyes where the hilt of my dagger must've hit. She glanced up at me and stared coldly back. Any wit I may have kept about me quickly scattered in the sea-spray wind. I utterly lost it.
My bottom lip trembled and my vision blurred. My throat constricted on itself. I struggled to breathe and only drew in raspy breaths. Sobs threatened to rack my body. I thrashed in Peter's grip and choked on my own throat until I finally gave up and threw back my head, screwing my eyes shut.
"I'm a monster!" I wailed into the sky. "Yes, I've killed! I know I'm sick! Revolting! I disgust myself!" I sobbed and screeched, screamed and cried all at once, my audience long forgotten.
"I hate myself," I whispered. The grip on my shoulders slackened and I slid to the cement in a jumbled, tear stained heap.
"I want to go home," I whimpered pitifully and wrapped my arms around my knees and pulled them to my chest.
But we all know that's not possible. Nothing's left of District Thirteen but rubble and memories, my family included.
Jess and my parents and the hope we would be reunited was the motivation that kept me alive. Without something to fight for and determination to return home to them, what's the point of fighting for something you can't regain?
Suddenly, questions flooded my brain in rapid succession.
Where shall I go should I win the Games?
Even if I live to tell the tale of my time in this cursed arena, insanity will lurk at the edge of my conscious, growing more welcoming by the day until I accept it and I'm put down like the rabid beast I would've become. But until then...
Should I go back to District Eleven?
There I could find a job. But agriculture is not my profession. I wouldn't know anybody and no one could really help me get a house because they won't be far above the poverty line at best themselves.
Should I stay in the Capitol?
Absolutely not. They'll probably shove a bunch of money at me and I'll grow fat in the plush life. Living right beside people who agreed to send in assassins to kill my family, who probably urged on anybody coming remotely close to killing me. Capitol chicks will be thrown at me and while I could start a family with any of them, I don't want to.
What will I do with the rest of my life?
Now that's a big one. This one depends on where I'll go after the Games. I can't quite answer it yet.
Jess must know there really isn't a point of living for me. She must know living and making hard decisions doesn't appeal to me, not when she's dead. Yet she wants me to make it out alive.
But what if I don't make it? What if I die in this arena so Peter or Shyen Ann can make these decisions? Will Jess understand why I didn't put up more fight? Might I be reunited with my family but a disappointment to them because I couldn't win? Now that's a scary thought.
In my panicked state of mind, I missed the first signs of danger until Shyen Ann asked timidly, "What was that?"
I ceased all thoughts and strained all my senses. A muffled growl/groan emitted from a trapdoor on the other side of the skyscraper. Strange. I got the feeling I know that noise.... I cursed under my breath. I do know that noise. Just not entirely sure from where. That's bad.
Another growl. Another groan. I shuffled closer to my dropped dagger and I scooped it up. I gripped it tightly at my side.
Underneath the trapdoor, the sounds became louder and more voices joined in. They overlapped and the door began to shake. Until suddenly, it broke off. All the voices growling cut out abruptly.
A thick, uneasy silence piled on every tribute's senses. It seemed to muffle every breath or splash. It blotted out all thoughts until nothing remained in our heads but the very noticeable absence of noise like you were becoming deaf.
Nature seemed to sense the disturbance because the caws of seagulls faded away and the splashes and slaps of waves on concrete quieted. Seagulls landed on the edges of the roof and watched us through beady obsidian eyes. Nature and tribute alike held their breath, mentally and physically preparing ourselves, all muscles and senses strained in a tense wait.
But no one was prepared for what came next...
First one. Then two. Then five. Mutts flung the trapdoor open and cautiously stepped into the sunlight. They completely ignored us, taking more interest in the shattered remains of the wooden door. That is, until Shyen Ann released a strangled and frightened sound. Their heads snapped up, they bared their teeth and all hell broke loose.
The seagulls lifted off into the air in a shower of feathers and flurries of wings. Waves crashed furiously into the skyscraper and the sky considerably darkened as battle commenced.
Mutts poured out of the hole and flooded the roof far more than the capacity would allow in any other situation. It was chaos. They yipped and yapped and growled and prowled and, my personal favorite, charged us.
The rotting corpse of Caste Morea was the first to find me. His dead eyes seemed to glow almost like he was alive but he wasn't. They glowed mechanically, Caste was still fully dead. I wondered if he remembered his allies so he left them alone or just me in particular because I killed him.
Caste's cracked nails that had grown into claws streaked towards my face, forcing me to leap aside.
I slipped between his legs and popped to my feet. Caste turned on me and he snarled like an animal. I whirled around to block or stab but he beat me and slashed his claws right down my face.
I screeched in agony, stumbling over my feet and fell backwards. The blood spilled from one of the four long claw marks and it blinded me. I barely had time to wipe it out of my eyes before Caste was upon me again. I jerked to the side but his claws still raked my shoulder and ruined the fabric. I cried out and my hands flew to the wound. I didn't know what to do. Stop the constant flow of blood or engage in battle.
The Capitol answered for me. A huge grey, metal eagle swooped down from the dark cloud cover and snatched Caste's shoulders in its yellow-painted talons and dangled him over the roaring ocean. The eagle dropped the Caste-mutt into the ocean before flapping its wings and disappearing again.
Mutts were overcrowding the roof and making the atmosphere really claustrophobic. Un-dead figures jostled around me and they turned around to kill. I had to duck several instinctual lashes and flee from the mutts before they realized I was there and gave chase.
Melody Rupert-mutt was next to attack me. I bumped into her while fleeing from Oliver Gray and she spun around while slashing the air. She just barely missed my stomach in a full out blow by managed to give me a good graze I'll definitely feel tomorrow. If there is one.
She howled in what I can only assume as frustration and lunged at me. I step-sided and kicked her flying body as far away from me as I could. She rolled once before bouncing to her feet and baring her teeth. She leaped at me again. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth while holding my dagger out in front of me. Pressure on my blade and a scream of pain opened my eyes and I saw Melody spasm once before sliding off my dagger and slumping on the ground.
I stood there in shock for moment. Then Alecks Glint-mutt reared up in front of me. His foot jutted out and landed... Well, lets not go there. I'm just going to say it hurt. A lot.
I might of imagined it but I think Alecks winced slightly as he kicked me and the wind got knocked out of my lungs in a painful noise. I think every male, dead or alive, winced as well in shared pain. The girls, dead or alive, just looked at us funny.
"Ungh," I moaned in pain and kneeled over, my hands pressed against my... you know. I stumbled to the side and just barely managed to keep my balance.
"Why is it always me?!" I cried and a haze of pain clouded my vision. "Ugh." The pain subsided but I was still worried Alecks had rendered me unable to produce offspring.
Alecks lashed out at my head but I ducked and the wind whooshed over my head. I grabbed his wrist before he could retract it and yanked, throwing him forcefully into the blade undead Logan Hudson picked up somewhere. They grappled for a second before they simultaneously killed each other.
I glanced over to see how Shyen Ann and Peter were doing and took a small step back. They were back-to-back and wielding a sword and twin knives. Bodies of undead mutts, both tribute based and of the Capitol's making, were piled up on one another in a circle surrounding the pair. When a adventurous or extremely stupid mutt ventured into the ring, it's immediately assaulted with the blades of death and the corpse thrown carelessly into the barrier of other bodies.
I watched the process a few times until the mutts caught on that they wouldn't win and went in search of easier prey. And hurray, hurray, that easy prey will probably be me. One jumped to the front and howled into the sky, leading the charge.
They rushed away from Shyen and Peter, following Christian Twain-mutt, and in my direction. My eyes widened in horror and it hit me my dagger wouldn't be of much use.
I looked at the ground wildly for help or inspiration and a small white cylinder with tape around it and a hooked blade at one end at my feet caught my eye. I crouched down, picked it up, pushed a small button and watched it expand into a hooked staff. I smirked to myself and sheathed my dagger. Crouching in ready fighting position, I waited for the mutts' arrival.
Christian reached me first. He dashed his claws in at my stomach but I ducked and leaped back up, swinging the hooked end of my staff up across his body. He fell to the ground as Grady Hudson stepped over him, snarling.
He used a tricking tactic where he lunged to one side and while I tried to block it, he pivoted and slashed at the other. I just barely managed to escape his sharp claws. His momentum took his body forward since he expected my body to take the blow and Grady stumbled a few steps. I rapped his knees with my staff and he tripped, staggering over the edge of the skyscraper. The last thing I heard from him was a long howl and a splash.
I heard something snarl behind me as I looked at the skyscraper's rim where Grady had disappeared and clawed hands gripped my shoulders. A stab of panic filled my chest and I struggled against the arms until an anguished cry filled my ears and the weight on my body vanished.
I turned around and Peter stood there with a knife dripping brown blood and he stared at the mutt's, who I recognized as Leann Thomas, corpse in disdain. My eyes widened and I stuttered for words.
"Wha-? How-?" I stumbled. Peter looked up at me and extended a hand.
"Allies?" He offered. Nothing in his eyes betrayed the proposal as a trick.
"Allies," I agreed after a moment of hesitation. I took his hand in a firm shake. We both knew it wouldn't last but neither of us mentioned it.
Another growl brought us back to reality and we took a fighting stance back-to-back. Shyen Ann sprinted to us and took her place. A horde of undead loomed up over us but we were ready.
And then the mutts charged. They lunged in as one, making it very difficult to block all the attacks. But that was probably the idea.
Chloe Bishop slashed her claws in a downward arc and I brought my staff up to meet the blow. While her fingers curled around my staff and tugged at it, her other set of claws streaked in underneath the staff. I managed to twist to the side and avoid the whirl of claws but it still snagged into my loose clothing and she ripped the fabric, leaving a large gash.
"Aw, man! You know I can't get another shirt!" I complained. Chloe responded by lashing out and catching the scabbing claw marks on my face. I screeched and blood blocked my vision once again.
"Duck," Peter's voice said behind me and I dropped to one knee.
A knife flickered over my head and caught Chloe in the eye. She shrieked and pawed at the offending metal but it had punctured her brain and she crumpled to the ground.
"Thanks," I said breathlessly.
Peter nodded and opened his mouth to say something more when a mutt loomed up behind him, wielding a small spearhead.
"Watch out!" I shouted and pushed him to the ground on his stomach, blocking the thrust with my staff and jabbing the hooked blade into the mutt's neck and twisting it. The mutt made a gurgling noise in the back of his throat as he choked on his own blood. He fell to the ground, unmoving and limp.
Peter stared at it and then up at me. He nodded his gratitude and I nodded acknowledgement back. We turned simultaneously back to battle.
I contracted my staff and unsheathed my daggers. I spun one deftly in my hand and suddenly lashed out with it, sending the dagger sailing into a charging mutt's skull. It slumped to the ground not not five feet in front of me and skidded across the concrete at my feet.
I jerked my dagger out of its head and up into the chin of another as it reared in front of me. I sliced the blade down its throat and out at the collar bones.
Peter called out behind me. "Help me, Jay!"
I whirled on my heels with my blades up in hand but I was to late. A mutt bludgeoned him over the head with a club --man, where are these weapons coming from?-- and Peter was knocked to the ground off his feet and the mutts pounced. They grappled at his wrists and ankles and dragged him away. I was at the spot he fell a fraction of a second after he disappeared into the crowd. The loud cannon shot signaled his death moments after.
I stared at the spot he vanished in shock until the whistle of a knife blade shook me out of my stupor and I ducked reflexively. I whipped around, fully expecting a mutt and was quite surprised to find Shyen Ann snarling at me while quickly unsheathing another knife. She threw it and I dived again.
"Woah, I'm you ally!" I shouted over the din of the battlefield. Her face just hardened scarily.
"I allied with Peter, not you. He may have allied with you but I made no such commitments," she growled.
Shyen Ann slipped two knifes out of her sheathes and crouched slightly in ready position. I did likewise with my daggers. The Capitol deactivated their mutts, sensing the final battle and insuring nothing will distract us or them.
We stood there for minute or two in complete silence. Nothing stirred but the wind and the waves.
Until Shyen Ann grunted in effort and a knife flew through the air at my face. I raised my daggers in a 'x' and felt the blade bounce off them.
I lowered the daggers to launch my own attack but I came face to face with Shyen Ann. We collided and hit the ground, me first and softening the impact. Something lodged under my shoulder blade and I cried out in pain. Shyen Ann jabbed her hand in my windpipe and the other circled around my throat and shook me slightly, our weapons forgotten as the fight turned physical.
I clawed at her iron grip and kicked out underneath her. She just straddled my ribs and squeezed my sides painfully with her knees.
She brought my head up by the neck and slammed it back down on the cement with an audible crack. Stars exploded across my vision and my head throbbed. I opened my mouth and it twisted in agony. At first nothing emitted from my throat and tears welled in my eyes but I eventually let out a small agonized moan.
Sheyn Ann released my neck and my hands flew to the red marks her hands left but before they got there, Shyen Ann punched me square in the nose. Pain flooded over my face and my nose snapped loudly. Blood spurted from my nose and I desperately tried to stifle it.
As I tried to staunch the flow of blood, Shyen Ann grabbed her knife and held it over my heart. It hovered there for a second as we stared into each other's eyes. Hers were hardened and cold, no remorse shone in her dead, haunted eyes.
I could feel my own multi-colored eyes wide in fear but also in a small acceptance that flickered deep within my pools of green and blue's depths, showing that if I had to die, I was ok with her winning. I'd prefer her over an arrogant Alecks Glint any day.
I didn't have many happy memories at District Thirteen but I pulled up my favorite in the final moments before Shyen Ann's knife would strike.
Jess and I were hunting while our parents set up camp. We had our bows strung, loaded and taunt, ready to release an arrow if prey or predator revealed itself.
The early evening autumn sun slanted through the trees as my sister and I stepped carefully on the leaf littered forest floor. A soft wind wound itself through the colorful branches and teased the leaves on the ground into dancing.
Suddenly, a rustle in the bushes in front and to one side of us startled me and I sent an arrow into the foliage. I was rewarded with a strangled yelp and a soft thumping like something hit the ground.
Jess was immediately on her toes and alert and she dove into the undergrowth. When she gasped in surprise I instantly followed her. Jess stood over a beautiful red vixen...with my arrow in her neck. A small hole behind her held two frightened looking fox pups.
"Oh, Jay!" Jess looked up at me with pleading puppy-eyes. "Can we keep them?"
I eyed the pups warily. "I don't know," I drawled. "They'd take up a good amount of time and food..."
"But we, or should I say you," Jess accused and I winced but she continued. "Killed their mother. They'll die!"
"Fox pups die all the time. It's nature. We don't really need more competition for food," I pointed out. Jess pouted and crossed her arms.
"Now, Jess. Don't give me that!" I huffed.
"Let me keep them and I won't," Jess shot defiantly back. I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed in defeat.
"Fine. We can keep them," I said and Jess perked up instantly. "IF mom and dad say its ok," I added.
Jess' face lit up. She squealed softly so she didn't startle the pups and stepped forward to hug me crushingly. "Oh, thank you, Jay!"
She released me and scooped up the little pups. "Hi, foxies! I'm your auntie Jess!" She cooed. The foxes mewled and licked her face and she giggled.
I shook my head and sighed but seeing Jess happy made me smile.
Jess! I thought abruptly. She told me to win and what am I doing? Laying down and dying. Almost literally.
The knife was a few inches above my neck and I had about five seconds to make a decision. Stay still and surely die or move and keep fighting. Choose wisely, Jay. This is a matter of life and death. Literally.
I jerked to the side and the blade hit the concrete, creating sparks. Shyen Ann growled in frustration and pinned my shoulders down with both hands.
"Make up your mind!" She snarled. "Are you gonna die or not?"
"I'd prefer not," I replied and jerked up explosively, effectively throwing Shyen Ann off.
She was up on her feet in seconds but I beat her and plunged my dagger deep into her back. She howled in pain and twitched and jerked and thrashed madly underneath my blade until finally she ceased all movement and a cannon rang out eerily in the deathly silent arena.
Nothing moved, made a sound, or dared to breath for a good five seconds. Then trumpets blared out and President Apollo Cummings trilled happily, if not shocked over the intercom.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the very first Hunger Games victor. Jay Rowan!"
:-:-:-:
I stood at the edge of a deep dip in the earth and looked out over the wasteland where once stood a proud district now only held a smoldering wreck.
I started the grim tradition for myself to visit District Thirteen's rubble every year, honoring the victims of the ruined district and the tributes of the first Hunger Games.
There, in the deep valley lies a graveyard of countless innocents who perished at the hand of a cruel and murderous tyrant.
The once beautiful land, void of blemishes, was now scarred with grey streaks of burnt debris and death. All because a ruler kept his reign to tight and a rebellion flared.
You cannot simply depend on fear alone to keep your subjects in check, that leads to unhappiness which turns to restlessness which sparks a rebellion. All those lives lost because of unjust...
I gazed at the smashed buildings and imagined the screams of every poor soul as they died. My eyes screwed shut and I wrapped my arms around my body.
I felt a slim hand curl around my shoulder and I met the gaze of two kind and warm hazel eyes. My wife of one year, Aphrodite Cummings or Rowan now.
I met Aphrodite in the hospital while I was healing. We became very close and she persuaded her grandfather, Apollo Cummings, into offering me my own suite in the Presidential Manor. I accepted and got a job as an actor in the Capitol, all while continuing to grow closer to Aphrodite until I finally asked her out three years ago. We got engaged a year later and married last year.
As I stared into my wife's eyes, I realized she didn't really understand why I continued to visit this place but she came because I came. I didn't tell her about my little tradition until we got married. She insisted on accompanying me.
The bulge of her very swollen stomach pressed against my own stomach as she pulled me into a comforting hug. Aphrodite's five months pregnant.
We are naming the baby girl Ann after Shyen Ann Brooke, the last tribute to die in the first Hunger Games. I can't really describe the feeling but I feel I owe Shyen Ann something for dying so I could live, even if Shyen Ann didn't necessarily want to. Aphrodite let me name our baby because she saw how important it was to me. That, and she said we could always have more kids.
"Thanks for being here with me," I murmured into her hair.
"Anytime, Jay, anytime."
I broke the embrace but kept Aphrodite firmly at my side and in my grasp. I looked once more out over the wreckage of District Thirteen and desperately hoped someone would bring justice to the people of Panem once again.
A flash of black and white wings fluttered at the corner of my eyes and a small thought went through my mind.
A mockingjay will save the Districts.