Red Riding Hood, Drenched in Blood

Welcome to the commentary of the 71st Annual Hunger Games!
And there is the end of the countdown. Let the bloodbath begin!
We have a right mix of tributes here, and we predict the winner this time will be Feather from District 1. As you can see, she is currently running towards the cornucopia for her signature weapon, the -
Huh? What's this? She's... dead? Already? And her killer, probably a career or...
Well, I never. Little Red Riding Hood, Johanna Mason is the killer. And she isn't stopping with Feather. Her hood is covered with a different kind of red.
I guess that Johanna isn't Little Red Riding Hood after all; maybe she's the wolf.


3. Stylist

As soon as I was in the ‘comfort’ of my stylist’s room I relax. No more acting. It was time to let my real character shine.

The room is quite small and has a single jumpsuit hanging on the back. Cornelius promises to look away as I change, although I don’t really care even if he decides to stare. The jumpsuit snags on my arm where my tracker was injected, and even though it’s only been inside me for a few short minutes. Carving this thing out could be a piece of cake.

When the jumpsuit is on I begin to let my true self return. Oh, how I missed it. I’ve missed my arrogant, snappy, unlikable tongue and my witty humour.

Cornelius knows something is up when he sees the fight return to my eyes.

“This jumpsuit will protect you from extreme sunlight and warmth, so I’m guessing that the arena is arid. And... that’s all I pretty much have to say.”

60 seconds remaining.

“I wish you luck Johanna. I’ll see you on the other side.” He says reciting lines. Liar.

“What do you mean, other side?” I say, letting out my rude personality a bit at a time.

“Well, uh, I mean I’ll see you when you win.” He begins to act nervous. Is he... afraid of me? I smirk. He better be. It’s time to scare him senseless.

“You don’t really think that. You don’t really think I’m going to win, do you?” He gulps. There’s no way he can talk his way out of this one, which is exactly what I want

30 seconds remaining.

“I, I...”

“Spit it out.” My snappiness is quite happy to escape. “I’m weak, a pushover. You don’t think I’ll last a minute.”

“That’s not true, Johanna, really it isn’t...” He begs. I laugh at him, proud.

“What? Are you really scared of Little Red Riding Hood? What would people think? The scared little girl from District 7, the one without a single chance. You are afraid of her?” I scoff.

10 seconds remaining.

I take my step into the glass tube, watching the shocked look on Cornelius’ face. He is standing in stunned silence. I laugh.

“Well, I don’t blame you. I made myself look weak, and you Capitol bastards clearly fell for it. I guess my acting skill is quite commendable.” The glass doors begin to close so I utter my final words to my puzzled stylist.

“Scared of Little Red Riding Hood? Well, you should be.” I flash him a middle finger as the glass door rises and I feel it lift me up into the arena.

Now I’ve made such a big scene of it, I guess I’m going to have to prove Panem wrong. If I die in the bloodbath, then they’ll never know my true self. If I never reach the end they’ll doubt my strength. They will never take me seriously unless I win.

I guess that’s what I have to do.

And boy, do I look forward to this.

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