Hello all. This story has been inside my head for a long while and I finally decided to put it on...computer screen? This is in first person, so I hope you enjoy being in the point of view of a Hunger Trails fighter. The Trials will be explained to you through out the story. Have fun reading.

Welcome to my head.

There's hopelessness in the air when you walk in. The air is thick and smells of blood, of course the same taste is on my lips that I've been chewing on for hours. It's a metallic taste and it has stained my taste buds. I'll never get it out of my mouth. Unfortunately, that seems to be the idea. I'm not supposed to get rid of it.

"Now, remember, you're almost in the main rounds. Then you can fight with the boys. Show them what you've really got. I'll be right there with ya the whole time. We can win this year." My father told me these things as he slipped my brass knuckles onto my hands. My nails were cut down as short as they could go and with my free hand I ran my palm over my shaved scalp. I only nodded my agreement to him as he forced my hand down so that he could slip the other set on my hand. "You're the strongest girl here; you can win." He took my face in his hands and smiled at me with his bright capitol eyes. There was a craving in his eyes that made the win seem self centered. It was. He was the only one that wanted to win.

"Welcome to the Cage our next fighters," the speaker crackled grossly over everyone drawing their anxious eyes toward the stage that I was being shoved into. Lights turned on and the white light poured onto the blood stained floor of the cage. Around the regular bars that had opened into a door in the first place were soon surrounded by a metallic chain mesh like drapes. My opponent and I were trapped in the Cage, staring at each other from across the small space which could only be about the size of a storage unit.

What should have been our names was a garble coming from the speakers, drowned out by the screaming crowd. They threw things at the mesh that protected us from the crowd, but then again, only one of us would be leaving the Cage. That was the point of these games really. We killed each other. It was brutal. It was disgusting. It was life.

I turn toward my opponent who is clutching a knife in her hand facing me with a deathly glare. Her hair is shaved off as well so that we don't try and pull each other's hair. Her nails are cut like mine so that they aren't bent backwards in the fights. We've been trained since we were little by our parents for moments like this. We're both survivors too because we've made it this far. Like my father had said, we were about to fight with the boys which meant we were about to go into the main tournament. Winner gets a title and money.

This operation had just started a little while back when the revolution happened. The Hunger Games ended and the Capitol citizens needed entertainment. They needed some sort of outlet to their craving for violence. An underground operation began which is now known as the Hunger Trials. You fight for your spot in the arena which means killing dozens of people on your way. One match at a time, you make a name for yourself until you're facing twenty-nine opponents with some sort of weapon. They want you dead.

"…and the Trials begin:" the voice crackled over the intercom and the crowd fell quiet until they got to count. "THREE, TWO, ONE!" There was a loud ringing of a bell and we approached each other immediately not letting fear make us circle around each other waiting for the first move. I still wasn't able to be the first move however. The knife whizzed past my ear and I spun out of the way before turning back to her and sending my fist at her nose. Snap! Her nose was immediately broken.

The garble continued on over our heads giving a play by play of the fight from a wireless microphone a man above us had as he sat in a suspended chair. I only knew from experience where he was though because I didn't turn away from the girl. I hit her again and again until she crumpled to the ground. The crowd booed and hissed throwing more and more things. It clinked against the mesh and then fell to the ground. A man, probably the father of this girl I was beating to death, hung his head. Not in anguish, he hung his head in shame because of his daughter, the weakling. She never had a chance. Her destiny was to be my kill.

"She's not going to let up!" The announcer's voice was in the back of my head. Soon it was gone and the life force from the girl went with it as she lay bloody on the ground. "COPS!" The place began to clear out and I backed away from the girl running to the cage's door. My father was already gone though.

"Wait! Please! Come back! I'm still here!" I shouted. No one even turned a head. My back hit the bars with force and I knew I had bruised myself though I didn't care. Sinking to the ground I balled up my fists again around the brass knuckled. My hands hurt, but my eyes burned worse with the tears that were welling up inside me. I looked up at the bright light not bothering that it would leave spots in my vision for a long while.

Peace Keepers busted through the door with a sudden forced and they ran around desperately to see if there were any stragglers. A man in his thirties tossed aside his bulky helmet. It clattered to the floor as he cursed looking around to his men. "They're gone. Check the perimeter."

"Sir!" He turned toward a man that was his comrade who was point toward me in the cage. "She's still alive. I can see her breathing form here Sir."

"I've got her," the man assured his soldiers and dismissed them again telling them to secure the perimeter. This time they all got out of the building except for the man who headed my way without his helmet. He wasn't stupid though; he drew his gun and held it at his side. When he made it to the mesh he looked around quietly not facing me. "How do you open the cage?" I looked up the suspended chair above the cage where a remote was hanging from the ceiling with two buttons on it. "How do I get up there?" He asked looking to me again as I turned to face the ladder on the far wall. "Thanks," he muttered before running toward the ladder.

I moved my head to watch him, but he didn't do anything other than what he had originally intended on. The chain mesh opened around the Cage and the door popped open. The strength to move and get out just wasn't there. I should've have wanted to run. I should have fought my way out. Then again, guns in the Trials were not allowed, so I had never gotten the chance to see if I could out run the bullet. Instead, I settled on staying there. I stared at the open door and then looked at my hands that were coated in blood.

"Let me help," the man said as he came back to me squatting down beside me. Carefully he opened my hands which couldn't seem to let go of my enhancement. He pulled the brass knuckles off of my fingers and set them on the floor. "My name is Gale Hawthorne," he mentioned as if it were just something that he had forgotten to say earlier on in a conversation. "We're going to get you out of here." There was a pause where he waited for me to say something when I didn't he smirked looking up at me. "You're a lot like my childhood friend. You don't say much to someone you don't know. What's you name?"

"Maxine Beauregard," my voice came out. It was hard to hear and it sounded hoarse. Then again, I never really spoke much. My voice sounded gravelly in the back of my throat and for a moment it hurt to talk over the lump in my throat. He tried to ask me more questions, but I didn't answer those. I didn't need to. Quietly, he coaxed me off the floor and led me out of the building.

His squadron stared at me as he got me into a black car that was dark inside and only had two seats in the front. There was a wall between us and the rest of the car so that his soldiers could sit in the back of the van together. He started the van and it roared to life under us. I looked out the window to where we left the building behind that held my death. This Gale Hawthorne had pried me from its clutches and was taking me away from that life into something new. Though new didn't always mean better. That's when the thought bloomed in my head.

I turned toward Gale and my body tensed up as I mustered the courage to ask him. "Gale?"

"Yea?" He answered though he didn't turn to look at me as he kept his eyes on the road heading for the Capitol. Its bright lights were shining up ahead with open gates ready to welcome the new folks moving from the outer districts to a better life.

"Are you putting me in prison?" The question seemed to shock him. I could tell by how his grip tightened on the wheel until his knuckles were white. He shook his head for an answer. "I've killed a lot of people." I didn't say it with regret. Then again, I didn't say it with pride even though I should have. I survived didn't I? I survived longer than all of my opponents. With only a little enhancement, I had killed them.

"It wasn't your choice," Gale sighed and sunk back in his seat still not daring to look at me. Now I knew it was because he didn't know how to face me. My vision on the world was so warped, so different, that he wasn't sure how to explain it to me. "We're just going to spend some time in the Capitol where they'll do some research on you. Observations, that kind of stuff, they want to see what the fighting has done to you."

"But it's not jail?"

"No, it's not jail. It'll be like a break. You won't train all the time and you won't have to worry about working to stay alive. You'll be given everything you need." Gale tried to assure me as we continued to drive that this new life would be so much better. I would be able to heal so that I could be like everyone else. We both seemed to question the actual possibility that someone that has been through the Trials would ever be the same.

"How many people have you saved from the Trials?" I wondered as we got closer and I got antsy. It got worse as we got closer. What if he was lying? What if I went to jail anyways? It was possible. I was a murderer, and the new President tended to frown upon that sort of thing. They frowned upon people like me.

"None, they start going through the healing process and kill themselves before they leave the Capitol." I sunk farther into my seat letting my heart sink with the action. No one had ever made it out of the capitol.

"They would've rather been in jail," I guessed though it came out as a statement to be accepted by the listener. "Healing means changing everything you know." Gale looked over at me as he pulled up to the gates of the Capitol. As they went to clear the van in the computers Gale turned to look at me, but I didn't look over at him. My thoughts rushed through my head insanely. I would have to flip over my world, change everything I had learned since I was younger. There was only one bright side to it and it was the only thing I could force between my lips: "But, it's not jail."

I hope you liked it. It's a little darker than some of my other stories though I do have dark stories.

Let me know what you think because I have the other chapters typed up and ready to go. I just need some feedback. Thank you guys for reading.

Sincerely,

wisegirlindisguise