Swinging From The Branches ~ Lexyon Perti

Dark as Death ~ Day 1

"Remember Lexyon, no matter what is up there, everyone will be struggling to get to the cornucopia. I'm not the word of god, but if you want to make it past the first day I would advise you stay away from it." My stylist, Pyther told me as he handed a green military jacket to me. "To keep you warm in case it is winter in there."

"Thank you so much Pyther, I hope I can make everyone proud. I just need to make it past the first day." I reply, pulling at the black turtleneck. My entire outfit was black, leading me to believe there was a frozen tundra above me. What I didn't understand was why I had an extra pair of socks, stuffed in the pocket of my jacket.

"Oh, one last thing, your token." He said, handing me the tiny pocket journal my best friend had given me. "Maybe it will keep you sane up there." He smirked.

"Well, I would need a pencil first, but maybe just reading it will be enough." I say, stuffing the journal in my sock. Pyther looked at me, ushering me onto the metal plate that would rise in a minute.

"Lexicon Perti, the victor from district 7."  Pyther made a show with his hands, causing me to laugh and release pent up nerves.

"I will try. Just for you, Pyther." 

"May the odds be ever in your favor." He said as a glass casing encircled me and the platform began to rise. One last smile for him and then everything went dark. 

Is it stuck somewhere between the arena and bunker?  I thought to myself. Then, the confused voices of the other tributes banished the thought from my mind. I was about to voice my own confusion when another thought struck me. With this kind of confusion, and complete darkness, no one will remember me. The idea bringing a smile to my face, I got ready to run as a voice counted down the seconds to the bloodbath.

30, 29, 28, 27, 26, 25...

It was cold, dark, and damp. The other tributes had nearly stopped all chatter. The only visible object was the cornucopia, covered in moss and stone. I was set back in a dark hallway, also covered in moss and stone. Where am I? 

15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10...

Many backpacks lie around the cornucopia, some large and others as big as my journal. Weapons also lie around the feast, yet were clearly tucked in more than the packs. Light was shining off of the stone, telling me that there was either an exit, or some sort of lantern in the room.

3, 2, 1...

I was off, running behind my podium and soon into a wall. Dead end. Looks like the game makers wanted a fight. Turning around, I walked slowly to the end of my hall, waiting in the remaining darkness. Tributes were fighting and killing each other left and right, and so far there was no way out that I could see. I hear a scream and know it's Marshall, fighting against someone. Knowing I am not aligned with him, I only pray a moment that he is safe; he is my district partner after all.

Please don't die.

Still studying the cornucopia, I hear scurrying to my left-at least, I think it's my left- and then someone hits the floor. A cannon goes off and I unconsciously wonder if it's Marshall. He could have died trying to climb out of here, or trying to get away from his predator.

Most of the tributes have either left, or lay on the floor dead now and I figure that now is as good a time as any to make a run for it. I see the careers beginning to pick through their stash, weighing weapons and opening packs. A couple of torches had been grabbed from the wall, making the area a bit darker than it was before. I scan the arena one again, lying as flat on the ground as I can, the black of my clothes keeping me hidden. I spot several packs on the outskirts of the area, most likely dropped by tributes trying to escape. Setting my eyes on a medium seized one, I guess what might be inside: a water canteen, medical supplies, maybe even a small tarp? The thought is enough for me to set my sights on it, forming a strategy to safely acquire it without drawing too much attention from the careers-who are probably the only tributes in here other than me.

One of the girls delves deeper into the cornucopia, throwing out weapons that had been hidden deep inside. With the light further away from me, I begin crawling across the floor to my prize, hoping I would win. Then, another girl, Pinocchio I think, pulls back a drapery and calls the career pack over to her. I freeze in my place on the floor, hoping they would be too preoccupied to notice me; I was right as I witnessed they entire group disappear behind the curtain and abandon the cornucopia, that was a first. 

With the careers gone, I waited a bit more to make sure they were not coming back before I hoisted myself up, grabbing a torch from the wall to illuminate the pickings. I could now choose from the stack, this would work well for me. Having a source of light, I began to unzip the packs as quietly as I could; not wanting to attract any unwanted attention, and rummaging through them. I decided against taking a weapon, in case its not being there would be noticed. A few had medical supplies as I suspected, one had an array of herbs I wasn't sure what were for, finally I stumbled upon a rather large looking pack, and upon opening it found a container that looked like it held water. Not wanting to be the cause of alarm, I took the canteen out of the pack and placed it in another that had a tarp in it. I didn't need medicine now, so I abandoned it with the rest of the objects and made a run down another draped hallway. 

The pack repeatedly banged against my back as I ran down the poorly lit hallway, my torch being the only source of light. After a while, I decided I must be lost- worry settling in almost immediately after. If I was lost, that means other tributes are also most likely lost in here. The careers are also in here somewhere still. Any of them could kill me quite easily and I would simply become another bloodbath tribute never to be remembered.

This train of thought was scaring me and I decided that maybe climbing over the walls would produce better results. I didn't like the idea, especially because the walls looked really tall and a fall could easily kill me. I looked around and, seeing no other options, set my torch down and began to climb, using the raged edges of the worn-down stone as footholds to help me climb. Somehow, I made it to the top of the wall and was presented with total darkness. I could maybe see a yard in every direction, but no more. The ledge I was perched on was easily a foot or two thick, so my next coarse of action was to scramble across the tops of these walls and pray I wouldn't plummet to my doom. Bear-hugging the edges, I slowly crawled my way across this hellhole.

It seems only a few minutes later(or maybe it was because of my slow progress) the Panem anthem began to play. Being indoors, I could not see the faces of the dead, only hear the music in the background. Judging by the length of the music, I could guess five or six kids lay dead in the arena, and Marshall might be one of them.

With the anthem coming to a close, I pulled my pack off of my back and unfolded the small tarp I found, using it as a blanket in this musky, stony building. Next, I pulled out my small journal; the feel of the worn paper already comforting me and reminding me of home. The last conscious thought I remember was a short prayer that I would not fall to my death in my sleep-even still, it would be a rough night of sleep.