Daggers

I

//HEY SO this is a rewrite of my other story out, Broken Ones. Same characters, same idea, just.. like actually not all over the place. You know.
Mostly gonna be in 3rd person surrounding Cato's experiences and his story. I'm realizing how much better 3rd person stories are so yeah. That's what this will be.
What's different from this story and the old one is the dynamic between the characters. Clove's story with her brother will remain, but her brother's fate is different. If you didn't read the other story, this won't affect you.
Anyways, enjoy!//

There are some things you are just born doing. Those things that when you are born, you are a natural at.

For Cato Hadley, this was swordsmanship.

From the mere age of 12, he was already training with the 16 year olds. He was considered a prodigy, the type of guy that anyone fears to go up against. The one that everyone knows is going to volunteer and win the Hunger Games the second he turns 18. If you ask half of the females, no one wants to be his district partner because it's certain death. The other half just want to fuck him before they get their pretty little abdomens sliced open by someone from another district in the bloodbath.

Well, there was one exception, but now is not the time to explain that.

Now is Cato's time to prepare for volunteering, which will take place in less than ten minutes. He waited impatiently, a wave of nervous excitement washed over him. This is what he was born to do. He was bred to kill, he was deadly. He was prepared.

He had tuned out the entirety of the President Snow Speech about the war. Well, it was merely a video. After his first reaping, the video was just a bore. After the third time? It's just a nuisance. A procrastination from seeing who this year's tributes are. And in Cato's case, a delay from him actually volunteering. He just wanted to get on with it.

When his 18th birthday hit two months ago, his father gave him a gift. It was a small box, wrapped in white paper with a golden ribbon. He had told him that it was something special to him, something he wanted Cato to take into the games with him and bring it back.

It was a thin, long, black crystal, which was attached to a silver chain.

'I am giving you this now rather than at goodbyes because I know you won't need me to be there to say goodbye. We both know it's not a goodbye. You're coming back, and the second you come home we'll celebrate.'

It's a dangerous way to think like this no matter who the tribute is. Cato himself was cocky, and he knew he could win the games and bring pride to his district. But that doesn't guarantee his survival. His training only raises his chances of coming home not in a wooden coffin.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when an all too familiar click clack of 7 inch heels makes its way across the stage to the microphone. Verusia, the District Two escort comes adorned in her usual navy floofy dress with an elaborate headpiece that looked like some type of lace sculpture. She always wore something that was blue, but thank god she never painted her skin that color. Blue was Cato's favorite color, but this lady just took it to the extreme.

"The time has come, to select one, courages young man, and woman, to do the honor of representing District Two in the 74th annual Hunger Games."

She squeals slightly. Cato rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, mentally preparing himself.

"And may the odds be ever in your favor."

She smiles clicking over to the bowl on her left. "Ladies first!"

She, in a very extra manor, swirled her hand around the bowl and plucked out a name. She walked back to the microphone and opened it very slowly. She cleared her throat and read out the name.

"Clove Kentwell!"

And there, was the exception. Clove Kentwell, the one person who wasn't cowering in fear at his presence. The one person who isn't afraid to take him in a fight. The one person who doesn't fall to their knees in affection for Cato.

And Cato could not stand it.

They weren't close at all, in fact they've never trained together. Their strengths were completely opposites. She throws knives. He was a swordsman.

And yet here they are.

She proudly walks up there in an emerald green dress that nearly matches her eye color. She smirks right into the camera, almost glaring into his soul. That type of look that says 'I am going to win, and nothing is going to get in my way'.

Well except Cato of course.

"Any volunteers?"

Silence. Everyone knew Clove would slit their throat if they volunteered. Plus, she is the strongest female, despite her small size.

"No? Alright!"

She smiles clapping.

"Now for the boys!"

She clanks her way over to the bowl. She does the same over the top maneuver with her hands, plucking a name from the bowl. Cato cracked his neck. It was time for his volunteer. Time for him to bring pride to the district.

It was time.

"Bradl-" the woman didn't even get the full first name out before a deep gruff voice filled the square.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

Cato raises his hand, walking forward as the voice belonged to him. The crowd parted for him to walk up. He confidently strode up to the stage, feeling all of the districts eyes on him. He's waited 12 years for this moment.

"Ooh we have a volunteer! Brave one aren't you? What is your name?"

"Cato. Cato Hadley."

Verusia beamed with excitement.

"Representing District Two in the 74th annual Hunger Games, we have Clove Kentwell and Cato Hadley! Shake hands you two!"

The crowd went wild, and Cato knew most of the cheering was for him, I mean how could it not?

He turned to Clove and held out his hand, taking hers and shaking it. Her hand was cold and small, like it could be crushed with one squeeze. They raise their hands up to the best of their ability with nearly a foot height difference.

He knew Clove would never admit it but, he could read her emotions very well, even if she hid them behind three brick walls and one foot of lead. He can read her eyes, and she was not happy about him volunteering. Maybe it was because he was so powerful, maybe it was because now she has true competition.

Maybe it's because she knows Cato is going to go home and she isn't.

Regardless, they turn to walk inside.

Well, let the games begin.