Disclaimer: I really don’t know about you but if I was the one who wrote the series (PJO and THG) I’m sure the ending wouldn’t be like that. I would be even more infuriating…my friends told me that I had a habit of making people frustrated. I dunno if it’s true…sorry about the babbling..
Percy’s POV
The arena….
Is….
BIPOLAR?
I. Am. So. Dead.
The arena are circular in shape ( I think…). Half of the arena are covered in snow. Heck, there’s a blizzard going on! And the other half is a desert. A damn, barren desert. With absolutely no living thing in sight. The Cornucopia is set in the middle of the two weathers (?), looking pristine and sparkly in the blazing sun. The goodies Haymitch had warned us not to get our hands on are spilling out of it. You know, like the old Roman myth about the origins of Cornucopia or the horn of plenty. Think about good, happy things and goodies will spill out of the Cornucopia. And this is definitely a horn of plenty of needs.
Okay, keep calm. You are going to survive.
HOW THE HECK ARE WE GOING TO FIND FOOD?
Oh, right…
The goodies at the Cornucopia.
This will definitely the bloodiest bloodbath there will ever be.
Okay, get your head in the game, Jackson, I tell myself. But trying to keep my focus on the game is proving to be hard. Because my mind is like, ‘How are you going to survive?’ and ‘You’ll be dead in a minute’. Oh, damn…
“ Ten. Nine. Eight…”
Well, might as well fight for my life.
“ Five. Four. Three…”
Here goes nothing.
Then, the gong rings.
I sprint to the middle of the arena. Right towards the Cornucopia. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Katniss doing the same thing. Well, at least I won’t be the only one who ignored Haymitch’s advice. I duck as a boy from District 3, Luke or something tries to stab me with a knife he had scooped up. But I was faster. I twisted his knife-arm and he dropped the knife, yelling in pain. I quickly pick up the knife, and without any mercy, I slit his throat.
It was really horrible. Seeing him drop dead at my feet with his throat slit open, his eyes open. I must’ve pressed the knife really deep into his throat for him to die that quick. Never mind about that. I continued my sprint towards the Cornucopia when I noticed a strange shaped bronze sword, like a leaf, lying on the ground, unnoticed.
This is it. This is the weapon designed for me. But before I could get to it, the crippled boy from District 7, Grover hobbles over to me, holding a long machete. He swings at me, full speed and I duck, the blade merely missing the top of my head a couple of inches. I had no choice. This kid is going to kill me if I showed mercy. So, I stabbed him right in the chest with the knife I took from Luke. He splutters in surprise, looking at the protruding knife in his chest and topples over, starting to gasp for breath. Fighting to live.
I quickly pick up the leaf-shaped sword and went back to where Grover was lying. He was starting to have breathing difficulties. Blood trickles down from his mouth. Then, I don’t know. I kind of tuned out the others (which was stupid of me, really) and I kneeled next to him. I wrenched the knife out of his chest and he gasps in pain.
“ E-e-end it, p-p-please,” he choked out to me. “ P-p-please…”
And I slit his throat open. He gasps; his body twitches a little before going really, really still. His eyes were still open. And, just like Luke’s, his eyes were glassy and lifeless. My second kill. I look at the knife that had wounded (and killed) him and decided to keep it. Hey, who knows? It might come in handy.
