They Call Me a Career-a Clove fanfic

the Games;day 10

"Cato, you have had your kill within the past couple days, now let me have mine."

That rings out through the forest for a second while Cato stands in front of me, looking down on me impatiently. His nostrils are flared, and it looks like he's about to get another kill in a few seconds. Not that I would let that happen. If he came at me, he knows I'd kill him in a flash, and this time, I wouldn't ask for last words.

"Clove, I don't care what you think. If you go out there, something is going to happen." He tells me. At first I am slightly flattered. "Because knowing you, something would happen, and our one, main target would get away with minimal damage."

That pisses me off.

"I'll just beat you out there then, leaving all of the other tributes off guard. Is that what you want?" I say, crossing my arms.

"I can take what comes out on my own." He says.

He's probably right. He's taken down multiple tributes before, and I know he can do it all again. I don't know how I am going to sway him out of this one. We're in the top eight. Someone is bound to get killed at the feast, and if it's not Katniss, Cato and I will smolder over that one for weeks. And there haven't really been that many good kills yet. Normally, there's always this one memorable kill in each Games, that everyone always talks about. That could be me, I could make that happen, if Cato would give me the opprotunity.

Then it hits me.

"Cato," I say leaning in toward him with a sly look on my face, "What if I could tell you I'd not only make sure I killed her, but I could give the audience something to bet on?"

Dawn spreads across the sky, and I look across the Cornucopia to Cato. He looks at me, and nods, running across the plain into the forest. We already have a plan devised and we're ready to go. I am behind the tail of the Cornucopia, watching for unsuspecting prey. There's no one so far.

I hear some commotion at the mouth of the Cornucopia, but I know that it's just the table rising out of the ground. I can smell all of the food, and know that that whole table is what we need. I can't actually see the table, but judging by the smell of food wafting from the front end, I'm assuming it's not only the bags of things that are waiting there.

I am silent and still, hoping that Katniss will be the first to appear. But then again, I want her death to be the most memorable without any disruptions, so I hope fear keeps her paralyzed in her position for a while. I hear foot steps, and walk around to the other side, and see that the girl from Five is running towards the woods, just south of where Cato's standing. She's still alive? We'll get her later, though. We can't take our focus off of Katniss.

Suddenly, right in the middle of her hasty getaway, I feel this sagging in my stomach. I feel a tingle at the back of my neck, I feel the presence of eyes on me. I look around me, and there is nothing. But the feeling doesn't go away. I turn around and see that in the field, the two eyes are looking right at me.

I go back to the day when we were all together at the Cornucopia, and I saw the eyes peering at me within the tangles of wheat plants- as Peeta put it anyways, I don't know how he would know what wheat looks like. I remember putting that traitor on guard while I left and looking back, seeing them all together. Now, one subtraction, on add in and three deaths later, here we are. In the exact same place. Doing the exact same things.

And yet we have all changed so much since then.

Foot steps. That's the first thing I hear. I turn around, judging by the sound where my target is. I don't throw as hard as I could, because I don't want to kill this person quite yet if it's Katniss.