Predator

Chapter 6

When I woke up in the morning, the soft sounds of birds chirping greeted me from my much-needed sleep. For a moment, I almost forgot where I was, thinking I was just waking up from an endless nightmare and was back in the forest.

But as I opened my eyes, reality hit hard. This wasn't a dream - it was the day training commenced.
I swung my legs off the bed, reached for the remote, and turned off the projection that had filled the room with a false sense of calm. Silence enveloped me, with nothing to distract me from the grim task ahead. After a quick shower and washing my face, I wandered back into my room.

Opening the closet in the corner, I saw the outfit hanging up for today. I got it down, changed into it, and was finally ready. The only thing left to do was to eat breakfast.

Hearing someone call me from the kitchen area, I walked out of my room towards the noise, seeing everyone already seated around the table waiting for me. Haymitch sat at the end of the table, Effie to his right, and Michelle to his left with an empty space beside her.

I took my seat, grabbed a plate from the stack in the middle of the table, and began loading it with food. I picked some fruit - strawberries, a new favourite since I arrived in the Capitol. It was a fruit I had never seen in the districts, but now I couldn't get enough of them. I topped a couple of pancakes with the strawberries and drizzled them with honey. Someone poured hot chocolate into the cup beside me.

I knew I would need the energy but didn't want to eat so much that I felt sick during training. Effie tried to strike up some small talk, awkward as it was, and soon enough, breakfast was over. It was time to head to the training centre.
--
As we walked into the training centre, I was taken away by the atmosphere. The centre buzzed with a mix of tension and determination. Tributes from all districts moved through various stations, honing their skills and trying to learn new ones in preparation for the brutal competition ahead.

The air was thick with the clatter of weapons - swords on swords and knives on knives, the thud of arrows hitting targets, and the low murmur of whispered strategies between alliances.

I stepped into the main area, trying to ignore the stares from other tributes sizing me up, thinking about how easy it would be to kill me. My eyes scanned the room, taking in the array of training options I could choose from.
I had to be smart about this - play up my strengths and cover any weaknesses I could have.

Haymitch had drilled a piece of advice into my head before I began my training: "Find your edge, and exploit it. Don't waste time on things you don't think you can master in a couple days."

I started with the basics, heading over to the knot-tying station. It seemed simple, but a well-tied knot could mean the difference between food and starvation - setting traps, securing supplies, even climbing.

An instructor demonstrated a few techniques, and I mimicked them, fingers moving deftly through the motions. I already knew a couple of knots from hunting back at home, but it was good to learn more.

From there, I moved to the shelter-building station. Again, I had some experience from home, but I knew the arena was unpredictable. The instructor showed us how to construct shelters from various materials - branches, leaves, even rocks.

I worked methodically, ensuring my shelter was stable and camouflaged. A girl from District 8 was next to me, her hands moving with practised ease. We exchanged a nod of mutual respect.

Next, I headed to the weapons area which was where the real danger lay - not just from the weapons, but from the tributes practising with them. I picked up a spear, testing its weight and balance. It was balanced, but still felt wrong in my hand, like it was too big for my hands to control.

The daggers caught my eye. They were obviously familiar weapons, something about them just felt right. I didn't mean to brag, but I had both decent aim and strength.I spent the next hour practising, slashing and cutting dummies, then throwing them at the targets.

At first, my cuts were wild, but gradually, I found a rhythm that I could keep up with. By the end of the session, I was getting more accurate and hitting areas in the body that I knew were sure to kill easier.

During a break, I wandered over to the hand-to-hand combat area. A few tributes were sparring, their movements quick and brutal. Fascinated, I watched closely, noting their techniques and weaknesses. Then, I stepped into the ring, wanting a piece of the action.

My opponent was a boy from District 7, muscular and confident. He lunged at me, and I barely dodged in time. His strength was overwhelming, but I used my agility to my advantage, slipping under his guard and landing a few quick jabs. I didn't win, but I held my own, and that was enough for now.

The next day, I focused on survival skills - fire starting, finding water, and identifying edible plants. These were the skills that could keep me alive when weapons couldn't. The instructor was a grizzled veteran, his hands scarred from years of experience.

He taught us how to start a fire with flint and steel, how to purify water, and which plants were safe to eat. It was tedious work, but I knew it was crucial.

At the end of each day, I met with Haymitch to discuss my progress. He was a tough mentor but fair once he got to understand you a little more. He gave me a bit of advice: "Keep focusing on your strengths, but don't ignore your weaknesses. The arena will exploit any flaw it can find."

The next days of training were the same, I focused on throwing my knives and increasing my accuracy with them. I also tried to get to know the other tributes - their weaknesses and strengths, so that I might be able to exploit them in the games.
-
On the final day of training, we had a chance to showcase our skills to the Gamemakers. It was a nerve-wracking experience, knowing that my performance to them could influence the sponsors and ultimately, our chances of survival. I decided to focus on dagger throwing, what I believed was my strongest skill, hoping to impress the Gamemakers with my skills.

When my turn came, I nervously stepped onto the platform, and picked up my weapon of choice. As I was one of the last to go up, the Gamemakers weren't watching intently as I took aim. My first shot hit the outer ring of the yellow target, but my second and third were dead in the centre.

Noticing that the Gamemakers weren't paying attention, I turned to face them - still talking amongst themselves.
Seeing that they were busy chatting and eating, my eyes locked onto a pig that laid in the centre of their room.
I picked up a small dagger, aiming it and releasing it with precise accuracy. It thudded into the target - the apple holding the pig's mouth open. The apple flew out of the pig's mouth, taking a new place in the wall behind it.

The Gamemakers immediately looked over to me, shocked that someone would do something like that. They began to murmur among themselves, and after a slight discussion, I caught a glimpse of a few of them nodding in approval.
-
As I left the training centre, I felt a mix of relief and anxiety. The real test was yet to come, but I had done everything I could to prepare. Haymitch met me at the entrance, clapping a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sure you did good, kid," he said. "Now, rest up. The games are brutal, but remember what you've learned. Stay sharp, stay focused, and trust your instincts. We'll be watching, and we're rooting for you."

I nodded, a steely determination settling in my chest. The training was over, and the Hunger Games awaited. I was as ready as I'd ever be, and I vowed to myself that I would do whatever it took to survive.

However, before the games began, I had an interview to look forward to. It was the best way to gather sponsors and get myself ready to be on camera.