One Lucky Winner

Chapter 90 ~ President Snow

"This way, sir," Honorious Clackmannan, one of the gamemakers for this year's games leads me down the hall. He's leading me to Plutarch Heavensbee, a man in which I have ordered the peacekeepers to place in a room to kill.

A few weeks ago, before the Quell, I told him to create the most dangerous and treacherous arena the Capitol has ever seen. Instead, he created one of the most dull ones. The whole reason I did this Quarter Quell was to kill Katniss Everdeen, and she's the person who won. Plutarch didn't even attempt to kill Katniss.

"In there," Honorious gestures to a large white door. It's the same room I killed Seneca Crane in, if I remember correctly.

I nod in thanks at Honorious as he leaves. I slowly open the door and walk in.

Plutarch is sitting on a chair by a big window, right next to a table with a bowl of nightlock berries in it. He looks calm and relaxed, as if he's not locked in a room being forced to commit suicide.

I close the door behind me. "Plutarch Heavensbee." I remain by the door.

He stands up. "President Snow."

"Do you know why I'm doing this to you?" I slowly say to him, looking at the berries.

He's silent, so I continue. "I gave you one job. One job and all you managed to do was mess it up. All these games needed was a dangerous arena and I would've got what I wanted."

There's a moment of silence, then he speaks. "Can I say something, sir?"

"Go ahead."

"The arena was plenty dangerous," he says. "It was the tributes you got that were the problem."

"I'm not understanding."

"You thought Katniss wouldn't stand a chance against any of them. You depended her death on them. You overestimated them, you surely realize. She defeated Legolas. She defeated Stark. She's invincible. Dangerous arena or not, I don't think it's possible to get rid of her."

I shake my head, not believing a single word of what he just said. "The arena was the problem. The tributes were dangerous enough."

"And the arena weakened them plenty."

"You should've made it more dangerous," I say, shaking my head.

"I should've targeted Katniss and not the others?" He laughs sarcastically. "That would be cheating at your own game, President."

I feel anger surge inside me, but I try to ignore it. "You knew very well that this year's Games were just an attempt to get rid of Everdeen. You should've made sure that she was one of them to loose."

"I'm sorry, President Snow. I was just doing my job. Making an arena."

"I told you to make a dangerous one," I hiss at him. "Not a winter wonderland."

"It was cold. At one point it was as low as ten degrees fahrenheit and over half of the tributes went without gloves."

"That's not dangerous enough."

"Katniss got frost bite."

"At the very end. I wanted you to kill her, not hurt her."

Plutarch laughs again. "I'm not sure I know how to please you, sir."

I sigh. "All you had to do to please me was kill Katniss Everdeen. And as I stated before, she's the person who won. You gave me the complete opposite of what I wanted. That is why I'm letting you eat these berries. You disobeyed the President's orders," I say.

He doesn't say anything, he just looks at me in disbelief, with a small hint of anger mixed in.

"Good day," I say cheerfully. I look at the bowl and back at him. "Eat up, now."

I leave and close the door behind me. That's the last time I'll ever see him again, and I'm glad about that.

I slowly walk to my office with a blank mind.

Once I get there, my phone is ringing. I reluctantly pick it up, not wanting to talk. "This is President Snow."

"Hello, Snow. This is Jeanine," the womanly voice on the other side informs me.

"How are you, Jeanine?"

"Fine. I just called to thank you on behalf of getting rid of Tris Prior for me. It was very generous of you."

This makes me angry. Of course she got rid of the girl she wanted to, but I didn't. "No problem," I force myself to say.

"Who was the winner? I never did get the results."

I really want to hang up, but I don't. "It was Katniss. Katniss Everdeen."

"Was that the girl who cheated you last year? With the Mellark boy?"

"Yes," I say, hating Jeanine suddenly.

"Oh. Well, I'm sure you'll think of a way to get back at her."

"I have to go now. Thanks for calling."

"Good luck," she says. I hang up.

I think about what she said, concluding that it's not true. There won't be another chance to kill Katniss Everdeen. Next year's Hunger Games will be normal, and so will the 24 that will come after. Katniss will be out of my reach by the 100th. She already is now. I brought her into the Hunger Games twice, and she won both. If I brought her in again, I'd be disobeying my own rules.

I open and walk out of the sliding door that leads to the balcony, lost in thought and anger about the fail of this year's Hunger Games.

I hold on to the railing and look over Panem in angry silence.