Stone Cold Killers: the Tributes of District 2

Never Coming Home

Never Coming Home

           A crowd could be heard cheering from a lit up multi story building.

          Clove knew the cause for this uproar. It's the advanced group cheering on Cato after being told he would be this years voluntary male tribute. She was unsure if they knew she would be the female tribute of the year. But it didn't matter much, the others would find out sooner or later. She continued pacing the open spaces of the District 2 training grounds. At night, the buildings and trees had a strange air about them. The campus seemed strangely docile compared to other nights. Perhaps because of the celebration occuring in the dorms, for another graduating tribute.

          I am a tribute of District 2 Clove thought to herself as she balanced on a low brick wall, pacing its length along the men's dormitory. A Career. The careers always win. Then I'll come back home as a winner. A hero of war. I'll come home to my district. Clove looked around at the familiar training grounds, the only part of the district she's ever been to. It was a large spacious compound, fit for holding thousands of kids. The best of which would be sent to The Games.

          The wide doors of the men's dorms swung open and out came Cato, on the shoulders of the most advanced Careers. All 18 years of age, this would have been their final year to volunteer for the Games. Any one of them could volunteer, technically. Once a tribute is chosen by the instructors, they never go back on their word. Once chosen, one must volunteer as tribute. That's just how things are run in District 2. No questions asked, because being a tribute is an honor.

Clove glared at Cato and the rowdy trainee boys.

“ Uh-”stammering as he noticed Clove's presence, Cato got off the shoulders of his mates.

“Hey.. Clover, how's it going.. with you?” He asked awkwardly, not expecting Clove to be at his celebration.

“Oh boy, the Cat- Man is in trouble with his little girlfriend!” One of the boys, Jet,  hollered. Patting Cato on the back as he faced Clove.

“She's not my girlfriend!” Cato shouted back, knocking Jet to the ground with an elbow to the neck. His muscles tightened as he proceded to grab the boy by his collar.

Clove jumped in front of the suddenly fuming tribute, blocking him from doing more damage to the kid.

“Cato stop. He talks crap about everyone!”

She was too late. Cato pushed her to the side, into several bodies, and proceded to beat the boy with his bare fists. It took several large trainees to pry him off of Jet's  unconcious, bloody body.

Clove's POV

“Cato! You're going to kill him!”

My shouting was of no use, this kid was close to, if not already, dead. Of course deaths aren't uncommon around here. Training accidents happen all the time, but unauthorized fighting is prohibited.

“Please! Just listen for one second-” I was cut off by by the large boys.

“Once he goes, theres never any stopping that Cato.”

“Maybe that's how he'll win the Game, out of pure madness.”

“That man has got to be insane!”

The trainees picked up the boy's body, bringing him towards the infirmary.

I rushed to Cato, who was now sitting with his back against the wall, breathing heavily.

“That is the fourth trainee this week, you know” I stated plainly. “you can't keep doing this to people out of nowhere- we're not in the Games yet!”