the ruler [THE HUNGER GAMES]¹

Prologue.

JULY 26th 073...after treaty of treason.

THE canon sounded for the twenty-second time in two weeks, marking the death of the District Nine girl who lay on the ground at the mouth of the cornucopia. Like myself and my last remaining ally, Conway from District Four, she had been running away from the horrific hot springs that the gamemakers had implemented to drive us together. Unfortunately for her, we were faster. Conway had buried his trident deep into her stomach without a second thought, and then kicked her off it's spokes like she was some sort of burden. We eyed each other for a few minutes as she bled out. I was too nervous to finish it off in case he attacked, and he was too crazy to rid her of her misery. So we just waited. The pool of blood was touching the toe of my boot by the time the canon finally signified her death.

Conway armed his trident within seconds, training his blue eyes on me. I had no weapons on display, but he wasn't stupid enough to believe I wasn't ready to attack. He had five kills under his belt compared to my one, and probably much deserved the victory over me. I could see that he thought this was over and soon he would be back in Four, but I don't give up that easy. Conway launches at me with a speed I didn't know he had in him. Ducking out of the way, the blade of my knife clashes with the handle of his trident and makes him lose his grip on it. In the confusion that pursues, I managed to get him down on the ground. My knees pin him down and I raise my knife above my head, gripping it with both hands. He is strong, about a foot taller than me and eighteen years old, so all it takes is a quick flex of his waist and our positions have been swapped. He reaches down and wraps one hand around my neck, using the other to discard me of my knife, throwing it far from my reach. I finally begin to think this is it. My eyes are closed, trying to get the image of this bloodthirsty child of the system out of my mind in my final moments, when I remember the other knife strapped to my leg. I struggle to reach around the large thighs of my attacker, but manage to pop the button on my knife sheath and slip it out as the pain begins to pump through my head. I'm running out of oxygen. He's laughing, he's laughing at my death. Somebody i have survived with for two weeks is so joyful at my demise.

That is what allows me to win. The anger at how brainwashed he is that he's happy to be strangling me to death in front of the entirety of Panem. My knife finds home in his chest and in an instant the pressure on my neck recedes and I can finally gasp for air. Conway chokes on his blood and some of it spills out onto my once-white shirt. I can't let him die like the nameless District Nine girl, and I don't think I can sit here and listen to him slowly choke to death either, so I pull the knife out and stab him again. HE stops breathing and the canon goes off.

I don't realise it, but i'm crying. The weight of his dead body on top of me serving as a constant reminder that this will carry with me for ever now. Victor, yes, but murderer too. I heave as I push his heavy corpse off me and then begin to crawl backwards. I don't stop until the hovercraft comes in to collect my final contestants and ship them off in plain cardboard boxes back to their homes. To their families. When this hovercraft disappears, leaving me alone, nothing happens for a few minutes. The Capitol will expect me to sit here and wait for the victory to sink in. It works, because i'm sobbing now. The emotions mixed with still trying to catch up on breath mean i'm on my hands and knees coughing, getting grazes from the hard-packed clay earth of the cornucopia.