The Prep teams last talk with her before her arena, the arena's waiting room and the tracker's implant. The room is sparsely furnished, with only a single, sturdy chair and a small table holding a glass of water. On one side, a large screen displays the countdown to the start of the Games. I remember being scared, hoping I wouldn't die in the bloodbath the way many from my district do, that if my ally that I wished I had worked, I could have a chance of survival, i just hoped that whatever deal I had managed to make worked. and my plan did not fall through.
The air is cool and smells faintly of antiseptic. The walls are lined with various equipment and supplies, all neatly organized and ready for the Games' start. A door leading to the tube will transport the tribute to the arena. Transport me into whatever arena the game makers have made this year for.
The final minute ticks down. I step into the cylindrical tube, the glass door sliding shut behind me. The sound of my own breathing is loud in my ears. I close my eyes for a moment, picturing Theo's face, drawing strength from him.
The floor beneath me begins to rise, lifting me up towards the arena. The light grows brighter, the noise from the outside world starting to filter in. As the platform reaches the surface, I opens his eyes, his heart pounding with adrenaline.
The arena unfolds before him, a vast, unpredictable landscape. The roar of the Capitol audience fades into the background as he focuses on the immediate task: survival.
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a Message filled with regret
FanfictionReaped for the 66th games Rowell felt as if everything was over. Even having training by her father, she felt like she would join her sisters fate as a decided unremarkable tribute. That is intill she wins. Rowell Castor from my A message to those...
