The Fourth Annual Writer Games: Canon

The Games | Males

District One – Faust Chapman

The package of clothes smacked against my chest, having been thrown across the room by the burly man who claimed to be my mentor. He called himself Glint. I called him Asshole. Just not to his face, because he looked like he could throw me through a window without even a blink.

"Gee, thanks." I was too nervous to muster a comment that was genuinely clever, so I settled for petty antagonism instead. "And here I was worried that I might be sent up there in my pajamas." I rolled my eyes as I began to unwrap the package.

"If you'd like, we can send you up there naked." Glint sounded exasperated as he collapsed into the sofa that faced the glass tube, which I would eventually be required to enter. Like the rest of the room, the sofa was plain. It was a dull brown and looked to be moderately comfortable at best, though from the way Glint was lounging on it, it may as well have been a throne. The coffee table was the only other piece of furniture in the room, and the walls were made of cinder blocks. A timer was counting down on the wall. The place was certainly nothing to write home about.

"You know, you're a really crappy mentor." I struggled to tear the plastic off of the clothes. My hands were shaking so badly that it was difficult for me to get a grip.

"I won my games." He arched an eyebrow. "I'd suggest you be quiet until you can claim the same."

I didn't have a response to that, so I merely scowled as I began to change, not bothering to seek out privacy. I'd abandoned that when I entered the Capitol. As I began pulling the material of the tank top over my head, I noted that there were several layers, which probably meant that the arena had several different types of weather. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

I had just finished lacing up the boots when Glint spoke. "Ten minutes until the platforms rise."

"Dude, there's literally a giant countdown clock right there." I rolled my eyes, gesturing to the neon timer that was fixed above the glass capsule. "I know how long I have."

He closed his eyes. "Faust, you're being childish."

He used the same phrase my mother did when she was annoyed with me, and the recognition caused my breath to catch in my throat. I felt the panic and fear that had been building in me for the last few days begin to wash over me and I jumped to my feet, trying to focus on my anger instead. Fear makes you weak; it's worthless. I looked at him with rage-filled eyes, though I knew that my anger was misplaced. The only thing Glint had done was comply with a system that had been in place for longer than either of us had been alive. But, he was a convenient scapegoat.

"Look," He moved towards me, placing a mammoth-sized hand on shoulder. I was pretty sure he was trying to be comforting. "You're the fourth kid that I've mentored, and by far the most painful. Seriously, you're so annoying that I don't know how you've survived this long."

I made a face. "You know what, Glint? Why don't you just go and f-"

"I wasn't done," he said, cutting me off. "If you do what I've taught you, I still think you can win the games. The careers are your biggest threats, take them out as soon as possible. After that... Well, you've seen the other tributes."

He was right. I had been a lot more afraid of my opponents until I'd actually met them. I may not have been impressive in District One, but I was still miles ahead of the other tributes.

"I just don't get how I'm supposed to win in a fight against someone like Dioria." A subtle whine had crept into my voice. I had seen the girl fight, and she was horrifying.