Hello People of the World,
Welcome to my very first Hunger Games FanFic. This is NOT a SYOT, and all characters have already been decided. However, I'm always open to requests, suggestions, and predictions.
This first chapter takes place a while before the following chapters, and is simply a prologue/flashback chapter.
Enough explaining! Let's get started!
The Head Gamemaker
Cherokee Winters tapped her long fingernails against her forehead, trying to think of an idea for her debut arena. For hours, she had been sitting at her desk, sharpening pencils until they were no longer usable. A pile of crumpled sketches was at Cherokee's feet, mocking her.
To her surprise, someone knocked gently on her mahogany door.
"It's open," Cherokee called, curious to see who her guest was.
President Snow slipped into her room, bringing the strong scent of roses with him.
"Miss Winters, are the plans ready yet?" President Snow asked.
"I am... almost finished," Cherokee lied, covering the blank paper in front of her.
"Is that so?" he inquired, amused. When the Gamemaker did not reply, the president simply smiled. "I didn't think so," he hissed.
"I, I.. um," Cherokee floundered, panicking.
"If this was not your first year, I would punish you severely for feeding me lies. For now, there will be no consequences. However, I must receive your finalized plans by the end of this week, if you wish to live," Snow demanded, coldly.
"Yes, sir!" Cherokee exclaimed immediately. "I will not rest until the arena is complete."
"Good." With a curt nod, President Snow exited the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
Cherokee sighed, taking a fresh sheet of paper. She was always horrible at working under pressure, and now, the sickly scent of roses was adding to her massive headache.
She took a few deep breaths and got to work.
Immediately, Cherokee decided that she was not going to stuff the Cornucopia with goodies. She wanted to create a death trap that had no reward. But what would serve as the bait? Cherokee wondered.
Then it struck her. An idea so brilliant that it would guarantee Cherokee the title of Head Gamemaker for years and years to come.
Cherokee ended up working into the early hours of morning before she rested. The main outline had been completed, and now, only minor details remained to be decided.
She neatened up her stack of notes and hid it under some books. No one could know about her plan. No one could steal the glory of Cherokee Winters.
Cherokee could not keep the smile off of her face as she combed her hair, ate a snack, and brushed her teeth. She fell asleep in her luxurious bed, still beaming.
In her dream, the genius arena had been constructed, and 24 girls and boys were standing on metal plates. Cherokee grinned at the frightened looks on their faces as they drank in the sight of her masterpiece.
After sixty seconds, the gong ran, and chaos erupted. The shrieks of terror were a soothing melody to her ears, and the sight of so much crimson temporarily sated her unquenchable desire for blood.
And then, Cherokee was sitting in an armchair across from Caesar Flickerman, a triumphant smile on her face.
"It is my pleasure to be in front of you all today, accompanied by the lovely... Cherokee Winters!" Caesar announced to the Capitol. A deafening roar of approval came from the crowd that did not stop for a full minute.
Caesar praised each aspect of her arena over and over again, proclaiming each feature as "Brilliant! Simply brilliant!" with loud agreement from the audience.
Cherokee caught sight of her face on a huge TV screen, and couldn't help but smile even wider. Her stylist had powdered her entire body, making her seem especially pale, and then painted her lips a bright red. Cherokee was clothed in a blood-red dress with a cluster of rubies at her throat.
Everything was simply perfect.
As soon as Cherokee had finished her plans, she called President Snow, bursting with excitement.
"Calm yourself!" he barked as soon as he entered her room. Instantaneously, Cherokee stopped smiling and bouncing up and down. She simply laid out the diagrams and stepped out of the way.
President Snow studied them, an unreadable expression on his face.
"Your arena is extremely... deceptive," he began, pursing his puffy lips.
"I, I thought that would make it more exciting," Cherokee replied quietly.
"And it will," Snow answered smoothly, a devilish look in his eyes. Cherokee relaxed her tense shoulders and allowed herself to smile a little.
"You've outdone yourself, Miss Winters. I'm impressed," he complimented. Cherokee grinned. "But just remember: if the rest of your arenas don't meet this standard, I will be finding a new Head Gamemaker," President Snow warned.
He smirked at the sight of her crestfallen face and walked briskly towards the door.
"Begin the construction of the arena immediately. The tributes will be arriving sooner than you think," President Snow commented before leaving.
"Of course," Cherokee chirped, determined to stay optimistic. As soon as the President was gone, Cherokee placed her notes in a folder and called the other Gamemakers to set up a meeting. Before she went downstairs, Cherokee applied a fresh coat of blood-red lipstick.
Smiling at her reflection, Cherokee opened the door and headed down to the meeting.
"President Snow left this for you," a young man told Cherokee, handing her a folded sheet of paper.
She practically shivered in excitement, knowing that this was the list of tributes that would be in her arena. Without a word, Cherokee unfolded the paper and scanned the list of names.
M: Luster Blackwell
F: Topaz Barton
M: Warrior Fantao
F: Quarry Jacobs
M: Fuse Browning
F: Circuit Fleming
M: Tide Watson
F: Marina Welch
M: Buzz Diomede
F: Surge Hallow
M: Engine Franklin
F: Road Nelson
F: Sap Martin
M: Fray Jennings
F: Thread Simon
F: Grain Kingsley
M: Bull Oakley
F: Shear Casper
M: Plow Adams
F: Orchard Bentley
M: Dust Zakowksi
F: Meadow Welsley
Don't worry, children. I'll make your deaths spectacular, Cherokee thought to herself as she slipped the page into her pocket.
So there it is, the first chapter. Tell me guys what you think in a review.
Announcement: I am not going to write the Reapings, because I feel like they're kind of boring to read AND write. Sure, they give you a little background information on the characters, but I think I can achieve the same result in the interviews.
So the next chapters are going to be somewhat like this:
SOME Private Sessions with the Gamemakers