Sparks of Fire

Entry for the battle of the fandoms. Centering around the twenty-fifth games and the rebels movements around the then. The very first Quarter Quell.


1. The Announcment

We all stood in the square, sombre, silent. There was a chill in the air that had nothing to do with the light, dusty wind that blew through the square. Why are we here? I wondered. The miners had been summoned from the choking black depths, the schoolchildren from their education of coal. Coal. Its practically the meaning of life here. The screen flickers in to life. 

"Hello PANEM!!!" shouts Romulus Crouch from the gaudy coloured world of the Capitol. "Amazing, amazing to be here with you. This year, is my 25th year as Master Of Ceremonies!" The wild applause from the Capitol echoes around our silent, grey square. Get on with it. "Doubtless you are wondering why you, the fine citizens of Panem, have been summoned here today." Yes. "Well, here is your answer. It is time, for our very next Hunger Games." It is here that we realise something strange is happening. The sentence is not exclaimed with great gusto, and a strange hush has fallen over the people present in the studio. Crouch stares in to the camera, his surgically altered eyes unblinking, his snakelike slits unwavering. I clench my fist. "Doubtless, you are wondering why this announcement is early. A week, precisely. 25 years ago, our world was engulfed in war. We ended that. We made Panem. We made peace." People spit in disgust around square, quickly stopped short by the snap of a gun being loaded. Peace? Peace!?! "Doubtless you have heard of the recent Jabberjay incident, which was an act of the rebels of Panem. This has not gone unnoticed. This is why, we have created the Quarter Quells. Planned to take place every 25 years, a twist shall be added to our games on those years. The Quells were planned on the very first games, but have not been authorized to take action until now." What? What is this? Confused murmurs ripple through the square, while the Capitol warms up to the idea, cheering enthusiastically. Crouch waves away the noise. "And we are here today to find out what that twist is! If you please, welcome our Head Gamemaker!" Everyone watches the Gamemaker, sometimes called the Axeman walk forward with a small, white box in hand. People look away. People flinch. I stare, defiantly and yet so very afraid. The Axeman opens the box. Takes out a small, yellow envelope. Oh god. "This year, the very first Quarter Quell..." He begins, and then fumbles as he opens the envelope. A blood red card slides out. "This year, the male and female tribute from each district shall be chosen not through the traditional reaping, but through election of the district." He pauses, as no one seems to get it. He starts again. "This year, the male and female tributes will be chosen by their own districts, not by the public reaping." Sharps intakes of breath are everywhere. Now we get it. We get to choose who we are going to kill.

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