Never In Your Favour

The Feast

'You have survived a week in the games. Congratulations. Nine of you remain. There are eight individual districts left, and each of you will find a bag, situated at the cornucopia feast in three hours' time. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favour.' Boomed the voice of the head game maker the next morning.
'How exciting!' Chimes in Flickerman.
'One thing I am particularly intrigued by, is how we all think our allies will hold up. Currently, we have the strong pairing of Freya from district two and Darius from district seven. Now, a volatile pair like that can't be expected to stay a firm duo for much longer, can they? Then there's our district five and nine team up - considering what Hark did to his first teammate, I would put my hopes on Ace at the moment, would you? Ahaha! Then there's our last remaining district pair... of course they haven't been together from the start of this year's games... and there'll only be one bag for district seven at the cornucopia... things may get nasty!'
'Yes Caesar,' added his co-host, 'and what about our other loners in the group? I'm talking about the vengeful Joyce from district three, and of course our very own heartthrob, Finnick Odair of district four! Then of course there's our recently alone Dacely from ten, and the ever elusive Yuri from eleven, who can't be overlooked. I'm positively quaking with anticipation, wondering what they each need so desperately!'
I wondered too. Hopefully Finnick would get something that would allow him to win, as he, along with many other tributes, was trekking through forest to reach the cornucopia. Unlike other tributes however, he was well stocked with food, water, and even medicine, thanks to the oh so generous Capitol sponsors. The camera panned between the tributes:
Freya of District two, standing with seven's archer, Darius, discussing tactics. Freya was going to grab both bags as Darius covered her from the trees.
Joyce from District three, who sat, ominously carving the word 'Finnick' onto the tip of her sharpest knife.
Finnick himself, poised with his spear at the edge of the tree line.
Hark from five and Ace from nine, who was standing behind the former, on account of his backstabbing tendencies.
Cella, the girl from seven had finally given up her spot by the river. She was making her way further and further away from the centre, and seemed to have no intention of attending the feast.
Dacely, from District ten, was standing with a sickle. She was a fast runner, and was clearly planning to get in and out as quickly as possible.
Finally, Yuri was away from the action, sitting on top of a tree, feasting on freshly roasted squirrel.
Finally the clock stuck eight, and eight bags dropped onto the eight pedestals for the eight tributes waiting.
Dacely sprinted out first, making a beeline for her rather small bag which was golden with a silver '10' written on it. She was almost at the bag when a familiar net covered her and set her thrashing around on the ground.
Freya was next out, speeding towards her bag, and Darius', while dodging a sharp blade thrown by Hark, the boy from five, who exited the woods, closely tailed by Ace from nine. As the airborne knife missed Freya by an inch, Ace sprinted to it and seized it, hurling it back at his 'ally' hitting Hark right in the spine as he ran to his bag. The boy quivered for a moment, before crumpling to a heap on the ground.
Canon shot.
By this point, Finnick had long since seized his bag, and was returning to the trapped girl from district ten. His spear plunged into her heart as she stared up at him, her eyes begging for kindness. He was merciless in his stabs.
Canon shot.
Then the next knife flew, this time aimed at Finnick, straight from Joyce, the 'Vengeful girl' from three. It zoomed straight towards him, and he only diverted the blow by twisting at the last second. The blade ripped along his torso, leaving a long and deep gash.
'Yes!' Yelled Joyce. 'That's what you deserve for killing Hans.'
After this passionate moment, of course Caesar had something to say.
'I said she was vengeful! Could this be it for our famously loved 'pretty boy'?!'
I prayed not.
Finnick merely looked at her, and chuckled as he gave her a wry smirk.
'You call this revenge?'
Amidst the chaos, he pulled out a sponsor's capsule from his pocket, and smeared a large chunk of medicine on his bare chest.
'They love me. So I can't be touched.'
He gave her a wink.
Of course he wasn't the Finnick I knew at the moment. This was all for survival.
Caesar interjected yet again.
'I knew he'd have a trick up his sleeve! The remaining tributes certainly know he's the one to beat now!'
Freya and Darius were long gone, and footage was shown of them opening their packs, showing a set of poisons for the former, and another restock of arrows for the latter. Ace from nine too seemed to be making an escape. That was until he was faced with Joyce. Unsatisfied with her performance at what was supposed to be a bloodbath, she smiled at him, and waved her hand as if to let him past her. He cocked his head in confusion, a look that was soon replaced by the wide gaze of death, as her sword found a new sheath in his rib cage, and his life evaporated in the blink of an eye.
Canon shot.
Looking back at the cornucopia, shining in the noonday sun, Joyce stared at Finnick, who was standing proudly at the summit of the horn. As she disappeared into the woodland, she saw a parachute fall from the heavens, with a long, thin black box hanging from it.
He plucked it out of the air, and opened it with fervour and greed.
Inside, was an immaculate and highly polished three pronged trident. It shone in the sunlight, and he tossed his spear into a pile near the corpses, to be collected by the airlift. He wouldn't need it now.