I'll make this the last chapter. I was planning to make it longer, but I feel it'll probably drag then. Then I'll let you know of a surprise. Oh, and I've had this first bit planned for awhile, actually from the chapter this tribute was reaped. Go back, and read it if you need a reminder.
Allie Manson, District 8 Tribute
We landed and were lead into some sort of headquarters. And I swear this place was huge. Capitol scale huge. Various helicopters fluttered in and out throughout the day.
When we were supposed to die, Gamemaker Fulton had designed a secret hatch for us to hide in, so we wouldn't actually die. My heart clenched up at the thought of my allies.
They could have survived. They could have made it back home, somehow.
But the didn't. They died.
Our quartet got waved to stay in a specific room, comfy leather chairs with a massage setting. Robyn sank into, smiling as her butt slid down. "I should have died awhile ago."
Westria paced anxiously, like a puppy who needed to go outside to pee. "Fuck it, I'm going. What's the worse they can do to us?"
Robyn hopped up, kicking down the recliner. "I'm joining." A smile crept onto my face. Rocker would have jumped at the chance to go against authority. It would have taken Kyla some persuasion, but she would have followed along. This obviously will never happen though.
Dorian creaked up onto his feet, rolling back his aching shoulder. "I'll come. I want to check out any labs they may have in this place." The four now made a trio wandered out. After a moment, Dorian's head popped back in.
I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. You guys go, I'll just...relax here." Dorian nodded, his freshly cut blonde hair disappearing behind the door. A sigh sounded throughout the quiet room.
Some time passed before a different person appeared in the doorway. He glanced about, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"Adventuring," I stated quietly.
"Ah," he answered. It took me a moment, without the uniform and fresher face, to realize it was the Peacekeeper who had been standing watch when I said my goodbye. My eyes widened and he nodded at my final acknowledgement.
The man eased into the still vibrating seat, sighing. "This is nice," his voice rumbled. I laughed and he smiled at the notion.
"Good to see you out of there," he said. "You alright?"
I just remained quiet. I could say simply yes, my body was fine, I wasn't seeing things. But my head still shook. "No, not really." The man smiled sadly.
"I know the feeling. The Hunger Games can mess with your mind." The comment made me cock my head slightly.
"Have you ever been in the Hunger Games?" The man looked old enough that he could have been in one of the first Games after the rebellion. Fulton mentioned that Katniss and Peeta Mellark sometimes stopped by in the headquarters. I wonder how they're taking Kellen's death...
The man nodded, his blue eyes casting downwards sadly. "Uh, yeah, I have. Won the damn thing too. Although, I'll never be the same."
"Nor I," my voice couldn't help but add.
We sat there in silence, the buzz of the chair humming about the room.
Out of nowhere, the door swung open, baging hard against the wall. "Give it!" a boy's voice shouted. A decently sized girl fluttered something over the other's head and I felt my jaw drop.
"Make me!" she squealed in a high, whiny voice to mock him. He's alive? How can he be alive? I can't be too surprised though, so am I.
The two circled a bit before the fake Peacekeeper stood. "Excuse me!" His tone had one of those you don't question again. The two stopped abruptly, turning back around. The girl had to be only 19, and well...the other was Kellen Mellark.
"Rose, give back Kellen's watch. What are you guys, four?" He face looked serious, but an underlying smile still hung under the expression. The girl, Rose, dropped Kellen's watch into his hand. Kellen crossed his arms stubbornly.
"Sorry, Dad," they said in unison. I could feel the slot machine in my head start to turn, landing on three winning 7's.
Ding. Ding. Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding.
Gosh I was...a flat out idiot. My jaw dropped and the boy I thought was dead gave me a slight glance.
"Just...go find the other tributes. Please?" The two rolled their eyes but didn't question authority.
As the door closed, the man turned back to me, smiling at my shocked expression.
"You didn't bother to tell me you were Peeta Mellark?"
Unse, Friend of Dorian Happens
I chewed my lip anxiously, fiddling with my little bomb contraption. I haven't been watching the games much, but apparently the device had killed someone.
Dorian was in this very building. Somwhere in this huge place, he was here. I'll see him soon enought...
The door swung open and I had to do a double take to realize it was Dorian. Wow, that was sooner than expected.
We froze, staring at one another.
"Uh...hi?" I waved, pushing the weapon off to the side. Dorian smiled, but didn't walk in for any sort of hug. His face grin didn't reach his eyes either.
"So you work for the rebels?" His monotonous tone sent slight shivers down my back. I've never heard him sound so blank. Not like Dorian at all. He peered at my little device curiously.
"What may that be?" His speech even sounded a little fancier. May have been that Arianne chick that he hung around. Something was going on between her and Dorian, I'm not too sure. She didn't make it out. That's all I'm certain off.
"Oh, it was this grenade sort of thing. A bomb with a count down device. I helped Fulton design it for the Games." My tone dropped. "She said it blew these girls legs off." My eyes raised back up at Dorian. Instead of the blank look he gave me before, his expression burned with rage.
"You...killed her?" I blinked, unsure of what to say.
"Well, I can't be certain on who it killed-"
I flinched back at Dorian's abrupt laughter. He shook his head, eyes narrowing on me. "You know, this actually happened to me in the arena. Blurted about how I helped design the mutts to Arianne. Also blurted that I love her," oh, that's their relationship status, "and she told me to leave. We did meet up again, but now I understand how she felt."
I had no idea what to say.
"Won't exactly forgive you," he added. "But I will still be your friend. Can I just get something out of my system?
I slowly shook my head, before transitioning into a nod. "Yeah sure anything."
Dorian casted daggers at me, arms tensing up. "I'm going to fucking kill you."
It had taken about seven workers in this place to rip Dorian off his friend. Props to the kid, though, if it were someone like Trenton, he would be dead. Period.
The taller kid had to brought to the infirmary. Me and Robyn watched him pass and damn, that was gonna leave a mark. You could've done worse.
Robyn glanced at me strangely as I dug my fingers into my temple. She just shrugged, used to the gesture already.
In some ways, being the new Victor is nice. I've never seen the district so lively. Little kids ran by, laughing, actually laughing. People waved kindly at me, some just their shutters. I walked up the dirt path to the two stor house I was searching for. 208. The orphanage.
Hesitantly, I gave a knock. After a moment, I knocked again. A young teen opened it, her face pouty and thin. Yelling could be heard in the background, and kids of all ages ran by, blowing noise makers and grinning chocolate smiles.
"What?" he said, before his expression softened. "I mean, hello, can I help you?" Fear and admiration glistened in his brown eyes.
"Uh yes, this was the home of Tanya Ride before she was reaped, correct?" The boy grimaced, yelling for a man named Clinton.
"So did you really kill all those kids in the end?" Before I could give a sufficient answer, whatever I could gather in my mind to come to a reasonable answer, a short grouchy man shoved the kid aside.
"Whatya want?" he growled. Apparently, even the new Victor doesn't get this guy to adjust his attitude. Something in me felt thankful for that.
Clearing my throat, I tried to construct my face in the most serious gesture I could without looking weak. "I would just like to pay my respects to the orphanage, about the untimely death of Tanya."
Strangely enough, the man laughed. "Are you serious? The freaky girl? Huh, well thanks, but no thanks. Barely knew her. Honestly would be better off without her." A frown creased my face.
Clinton began to close the door but I shoved my foot in. Yanking his collar forward, I gathered up the cloth in my fists. "I suggest you be kinder about these children. You don't seem to be the type to fill out his taxing forms correctly, and we don't want an investigation going into this. So, you will accept my respect for your grievences, understand?"
The red faced man gasped out a feeble "Yes, sir." I dropped him stepping away.
A thin girl watched me from the edge of the property. Her purple glances winked in the blaring sunlight, watching me carefully.
"Thanks," she called over to me. "Clinton can be a real jerk. About time someone put him in line." The girl kicked at a pebble, sending it skittering towards me. "And thanks, for Tanya. You're a mighty fine gentleman. She'd be grateful."
Megan. That's who it was. Tanya's friend. Another reason why I was strolling down this area of District Ten.
"Your welcome," I said, but stiffly dug a hand through the bag around my shoulders. I handed the book to the girl, who eyed it carefully. "Tanya mentioned you liking to read. And the book lept out at me." I kept myself from adding that it reminded me of the arena somewhat.
Megan's hands ran down the binding, opening to the first page. "Gregor the Overlander?" I nodded.
"It's one of the writer's lesser known series, nothing like the one everyone knows. It's not available in the districts, and I'd thought you would enjoy it. At least, Tanay probably would but-"
The girl leaned forward, wrapping her arms around me. I patted her back and she smiled up at me.
"Thank you. You don't know how much this means to me." Megan, with a final little wave, started back down the road. Her nose was already deep into the first page, something about a boy and his sister, Boots.
A person walked by, wearing a hood up over their head. By the figure I could tell it was a girl, well, more like a woman.
"You know this isn't over, right?" she called. My eyes widened and she turned around. What the-
"You may have won, Drale, but even you know this isn't over. That something isn't right." Her voice was weird to listen to, my mind not used to the natural Ten accent.
"What do you mean? What's going to happen?"
Gamemaker Fulton smiled sadly. "There's a lot you don't know. This is only the beginning, kid."
Before I could answer, she turned, walking away.
There you have it. So, new poll; sequel? If so, vote. And here's the results of the original one:
Here's Yelof, signing off. Clicking, for the first time ever, the Complete button.