A Game of Chance [A Hunger Games Fanfiction]
Author: Phoenix Summers

Chapter 17
Arena, Day One (Part One), Bloodbath

-Valentyna Taras, District One-

I stand still, my knife poised to be thrown at Damon's chest. "Swear that you won't kill me or any of the others in our alliance" I say, my voice low.

He swallows, his cheeks flaming red with embarrassment. He struggles with himself, then snaps, "Fine, I ag-"

I hear a rustle behind me, and whip round, launching a knife at random.

I see a tribute fall to the ground. Blood spurts from the knife wound in his chest, and his eyes go glassy, proving to me that he is dead. it is the ten year old tribute from District Five.

I raise an eyebrow. The idiot actually volunteered for these games. My lips curve into a smile. He was easy prey for me.

I turn back to Damon, to find that he has picked up two swords and a backpack. I nod approvingly, and think about my supplies.

I have a large backpack, and I put a sleeping bag, bottle of water and extra weapons inside. I also have pouches that hang down either side of my waist, for storing my knives, and daggers in, and a sword hanging down in a sheath.

Purposely, I walk to the Cornucopia, where the main action of the Bloodbath is taking place.

Damon, Neleesha and Troy take savage joy in the fighting, where as Damon-Lee and Rosabelle act as if it is just an unpleasant chore.

Blaze is no-where to be seen, but that doesn't worry me at the moment, as  I survey the scene, eyes narrowed, looking for victims.

I see a girl from district six standing on the sidelines of the fighting. She looks petrified. I smirk and start striding towards her, taking my sword out from it's sheath with a flourish.

She sees me coming, and her eyes widen in terror. She turns, and starts running. I pick up my pace, and as I do so, she glances back at me, not looking in front of her.

She trips over a loose brick, and is sent sprawling.


I leer down at her, while she closes her eyes, and begins to mutter something under her breath. I raise my eyebrows, thinking that she has gone crazy, and patiently wait for her to finish.

When she opens them again, and finds that I am still here, tapping my foot, she stares at me in horror, going into shock.

I groan. I need her to be fully alert to be able to kill her, so that I can put on a good show. I drag her to the edge of the roof; she makes no complaint, still frozen in terror.

As I lay her flat, I make sure that I hold onto her feet, and push her halfway over. She seems to come to life at this, screaming and begging for mercy, which I will not give her.

I take a quick peek over the edge of the building. The drop is at least a hundred yards until the bottom - good. I need her to be scared. My mouth twists into another smile. What I have in store for her will make her wish that she can just fall, and die, right now. That that is the best option for a quick painless death - which, of course, it is.

I don't do painless deaths, though, unless I have to.

I prefer to stage gory ones.

I pull out a small dagger, and she goes rigid, mouth open. She then starts screaming, and I laugh at her, enjoying myself. I twist the dagger round, scrutinising her face and arms, trying to decide where to go first.

I decide on her face, as she closes her eyes again and starts whispering in that annoying way.

I bring the dagger down onto her face lightly. She lets out a blood curdling scream, arching her back to try to escape, even though, by now, at least, she must realise that struggling is futile.

She soon gives up struggling, and starts to whimper, annoying me far more than she did before. Hate building up inside of me, I dig deeper with the dagger.

Soon, I am finished with her face. I look round, to check that no other tributes have crept up on me, and admire my handiwork. 'Valentyna Taras' is scratched along her face, in bloody furrows, and in sharp, spiky, elaborate lettering.

Now everybody will know who killed her.

I look down at her face, twisted with pain. I feel a small hint of sorrow, but quench it immediately. I cannot allow my emotions to show.

But, saying that, I do allow her a small amount of leniency. Instead of killing her even slower, as I had intended, I bring my sword down and sever her head from her body in one quick strike.

I watch as it, and the body, which I release, plunge down to land on the ground with an ominous cracking sound.

'Two tributes killed, another few needed for guaranteed sponsors,' I think, as I turn to go back to the bloodbath.

Only... there is no bloodbath left.

Just my allies, with the exception of Blaze.

They come over, one by one.

"Nice kill." Troy nods at me with a smirk. I glare at him, thinking of a thousand different ways to 'accidently' cause his death.

My favourites include a forest fire, and a slow, agonising death, much like the girl's, but with far more pain involved. Far more pain involved.

He notices me staring, and rolls his eyes. I sharply look away, to my other allies.

"Where's Blaze?" I ask, searching around for the faithful girl from District Four. One of the few in my alliance that I trust, excepting maybe Rosabelle and Damon-Lee.

Neleesha shakes her head, and points mutely to the entrance of the Cornucopia. "She refused to fight."

Troy continues, "It was very quick. She took a spear to her stomach, and died almost instantly."

Blaze is lying there, her eyes wide open, yet unseeing. She looks surprised to find herself in this position- dead. I burn with fury as I look all my allies in the eye, one by one.

"We will avenge her death." I say to them in a clear voice. "We shall find the tribute or tributes responsible, and we will not rest until they are dead."

I glance at Troy, carrying all his weapons, and a sneaking suspicion forms in my mind. Surely he couldn't have killed his own ally? He doesn't seem to be taking me at all seriously.

I am about to question him when suddenly, a cannon fires. I tense, counting the number of tributes dead.







The cannons end at six, and I look at my allies with surprise. Only six dead. Far less than usual.

And two of them were my kills.

I smirk.


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