The Demi Games

So, Could You Do Me This Favor? Oh, Why? No Reason.

(Leo)

My sleep is filled with disturbing dreams. Gory images of earlier Hunger Games and the Games to come intertwine with Calypso, her eyes wild and crazed, the lightning storm in the searing desert Scorch, the monster-animal machines in the Maze. I bolt up screaming for my mother to run as the machine shop is engulfed in flames.

Dawn is breaking through the windows. The Capitol has a misty, haunted air. My head aches as I sit up, and it takes a second for me to remember where I am.

I've seen The Hunger Games. Although I've never read the books, I've watched the movies enough times to basically have it memorized, so I know more than the others do, with the exception of Annabeth, obviously. So far, luckily, the movies and books seem to be pretty similar.

The only problem is, I can't tell anyone else, since nobody else is in my district. Hopefully once training starts that will change, but I'm not sure how different that will be from what I've seen.

After a bit of just wandering my room, I get bored and go to the dining room, hoping there will be food. I'm not disappointed. While the table is empty, a long board off to the side has been laid with at least twenty dishes. A young man, an Avox, stands at attention by the spread. When I ask if I can serve myself, he nods assent. I load a plate with food, not really paying attention to what I'm grabbing. As I gorge myself, I watch the sun rise over the Capitol.

As I break off a bit of roll and dip it into my hot chocolate, I think about what I'm supposed to do in the Arena. Find and team up with Percy, Nico, and Will, definitely. But getting out will be the hard part. Only one person can win, although that rule ends up being bent with the whole starcrossed-lovers thing, but something tells me that won't work so well with the four of us. Besides, Annabeth had stressed in the last book that they needed to try not to change what happens too much, and if one of us wins, that will be changing it more than a little.

Ivory, my district partner, comes in, bids me good morning, and fills her plate, sitting across from me. Neither of us speak to each other. It's clear that Ivory's trying to distance herself from me. Whether it's because she doesn't think I'm a good candidate for an ally, or because she's trying not to make attachments, I'm not sure, but I don't really care.

I just can't wait for training to start. There are three days in which all the tributes practice together. On the last afternoon, we'll each get a chance to perform in private before the Gamemakers. I need to talk to Percy, Nico, and Will, and I know that training will basically be our only time to do that.

By now, everyone's here, but nobody speaks as we eat. Technically, we're supposed to be working on strategy, but because we're training separately (Ivory's idea), no discussions are being held over meals. The air is icy cold, and the tension is palpable.

Thank god, pretty soon, it's quarter to ten, and our escort takes us down to the training rooms, which are below ground level of our building. With these elevators, the ride is less than a minute. The doors open into an enormous gymnasium filled with various weapons and obstacle courses. Although it's not yet ten, there's still about a dozen tributes already there. The others are gathered in a tense circle. They each have a cloth square with their district number on it pinned to their shirts. While someone pins the number 3 on my back, I do a quick scan and see Nico already there, but Percy and Will are still absent.

Fifteen minutes later, though, everyone else has arrived. As soon as the last to show up - Katniss and Peeta - join the circle, the head trainer, a tall, athletic woman named Atala steps up and begins to explain the training schedule. Experts in each skill will remain at their stations. We will be free to travel from area to area as we choose, per our mentor's instructions. Some of the stations teach survival skills, others fighting techniques. We are forbidden to engage in any combative exercise with another tribute. There are assistants on hand if we want to practice with a partner.