Deceived: The 500th Annual Hunger Games

Chapter 32 - Last Night at the Capitol

FRIARY ETHERDONE'S P.O.V

I sat with Rupilia and Vamos at a table for the last dinner. We had a sponsor with us: he had a neon red mohawk, white contact lenses and whiskers. He looked ridiculous.

"My name is Bartimus Alonso, and I own the biggest technology store in the Capitol. You all did pretty well in your private sessions. Please, do give me a little insight as to what you did," the man smiled.

"Unfortunately, we are not District 3, therefore we cannot use technology well," Vamos laughed. "We all became comfortable with certain weapons. I used the sledgehammer."

"I used a whip and a sword," I said. Vamos quivered as I mentioned the whip, memories of torture silently haunting him.

"I used a branding iron and a mace," Rupilia smiled. Vamos smiled too, thinking of the branding iron and the good memories of District 10.

When we weren't in the orphanage - normally late at night - we would go to the nearest cow field and help out. We would milk cows, brand them and occasionally breed them.

"Do you know any survival skills?" Bartimus asked.

"We know what animals to mess with and what not to touch," Rupilia said.

"My knowledge on plants is rusty though," Vamos pulled a face. "I know what berries are okay, but things like leaves just don't stay in my head."

I bit into the meat on my fork. The flavours bursted in my mouth. A hot chilli powder exploded on my tongue. I will certainly miss this kind of food in the arena.

"So, let's make a deal," Bartimus said. "If you make it past the first twist, a Capitol Catch, then I'll sponsor you what you need."

We all shook hands with him and thanked him for his generosity.

CHERRIE SCRABBLE'S P.O.V

I sat with Tifa and Aldjoy. We were the 3 tributes without a team. I am a 12-year-old - my chances were small anyway. Tifa is a stubborn bitch. Aldjoy is a snob.

I looked over at Tifa as she glared at our sponsor. His name is Kingsley. They only let a small number of sponsors into here. Apparently, all of these sponsors were here for the last tributes.

I could be sat on the same seat that one of the dead tributes sat in a couple of months ago.

"So," Kingsley looked annoyed to be at this table. "Cherrie and Aldjoy, why should I bother to sponsor you? I mean, your scores were horrendous."

"I am not the strongest here," I admit, "however, I shouldn't be underestimated. I put myself to good use when I need to. Instinctively."

Aldjoy snorted. "Why shouldn't you sponsor me? I'm amazing. It's not all about the fighting."

Is he mad? Of course it's about the fighting. It's the Hunger Games.

"Besides," he continued, "if you don't sponsor me, my parents will. We're so rich, they'll give me whatever I want."

Tifa glared at the ungrateful boy. "You'll be lucky to get through the bloodbath," she laughed. "Look out rich boy, you gonna get hit hard. Face up to reality."

"So, weaklings," Kingsley's smiled, his pearl white teeth shining. "What weapons do you use?"

"I like short range weapons," I said. "Claws and daggers are cool." Tifa glared at me.

"I'll get my hands on the claws before you do," she mumbled through gritted teeth. I shrugged it off.

"I can use any weapon," Aldjoy lied. "I'm excellent with a sword, an axe, a trident, a dagger and shrukins."