- Annabeth

Darkness.

For a second, that was all I could see in the dimly-lit, oppressingly small room I was lying in. As my eyes fluttered open, the first thing I noticed were the metal bars to my side lining the entrance, glinting eerily in moonlight.

Encaged.

A tiny, out-of-reach window let small strings of light filter through, barely enough for me to be able to discern my surroundings.
Next... came the pain.

A searing, lacerating burn coming from both my wrists, almost enough to make me faint back into a restless sleep again. I tried to lift my hands up, but they wouldn't budge, firmly stuck in place - twisting my head to try and see what was restraining them, I gasped in shock as I caught a glimpse of the handcuffs imprisoning me.

Two leashes made of what seemed to be pure darkness, their surface bearing shadowy reflections. Every movement I made caused the handcuffs to squirm and shift, ensnaring me further. Around the cuffs, my skin had turned a deathly white, blue-purple veins spreading from my wrists like a growing infection.
Attached to a metal pipe overhead in a sitting T position, there wasn't much space for me to move around. Shifting in my sitting position to try and relieve my swollen limbs, I stretched my head out as far as I could to try and get a glance into the unlit corridor outside. When I spoke, my voice was raspy and broken, as if I hadn't talked for days.

"Hello?"

No response.

"Hello?"

Only a faint echo answered my calls, resonating and bouncing off the cavernous walls like ripples on water. Shaking my handcuffs with a metallic clanging sound, I felt panic cling at me from the bottom of my gut and form a deep knot at the pit of my stomach as I desperately tried to free myself from my bonds. I was trapped, trapped, trapped -

Stop, I said to myself. Calm down. This isn't you. Evaluate the situation.

Taking in a deep breath, I pictured myself in a cozy office, perhaps in New York, sitting down at the desk and inhaling the light scent of old wood. Somehow, the thought always seemed to calm me down.
I pictured filing cabinets before me, representing my thoughts. All I had to do was organize them in a detached way, like I was dealing with a work assignment.
Sighing, I began to put order in my mind as I imagined picking up files and sorting them.

A dark crimson folder labeled Situational panic. That had no place here. I pictured myself crumpling it up detachedly into a ball and throwing it into the rubbish bin below me chair, erasing it from my mind.
A metallic silver document bearing the title Trying to free self from obviously unbreakable bonds. Useless. Bin.
A violet folder entitled Trying to recall where you are and why the hell you're here. That, I could use. Picturing myself laying the document flat on the table and opening it, I started plunging into the depths of my memory...

First, there'd been the arrival into this weird, future world... Percy by my side. The tidal wave, the man on the floor. The police - no, the Peacekeepers - capturing us. The dark, winding alleys of a prison. Getting escorted to our cell... turning a dark corner, Percy in front of me.

I remembered seeing the purple powder float lowly in the air, calmly filtering from the vents overhead... and right into Percy's nostrils.

He'd inhaled the strange mist, had stiffened for a second, and had glanced behind himself, in my direction... but not at me. His gaze bore right through my body and into an unknown point behind, as if I simply wasn't there. He'd then sighed, turned around and kept walking - as if he'd literally forgotten I was there!

He'd carried on walking, and I'd just shrugged it off - the anxiety had probably just been playing tricks on my imagination. Of course he knew I was there, right? I'd been by his side the entire time.
I'd paused for a second, leaning against a wall and bending down to tie her shoelaces, watching as Percy continued walking forward, not bothering to wait for me. Strange of him, but I guessed he just wasn't in a chivalrous mood.

And then... surging from behind without warning, it had come.

A nightmarish beast the size of a dog, made of pure darkness, the lower part of its body a swirling pit of shadows. And its face... oh god, its face.

Ghastly pale skin resembling a corpse's, a lipless mouth stretched wide-open into an everlasting, silent moan, and the eyes... two twin rubies glinting in the darkness, the only touch of color on this creature, staring deeply into me with a look of inexhaustible hunger.

It had swirled upon me, not leaving me any time to scream as I felt my vision wrapped in shadows. The last thing I saw was Percy and the two guards calmly continue walking ahead, completely oblivious to what was happening soundlessly behind their backs. I tried to reach out... my hand clasping onto the floor, looking for a hold, fingers outstretched, as the creature dragged me by the feet into the shadows.

And then... nothing.

Snapping back to reality, I winced as a headache erupted in my mind, sending throbs of pain through my entire body. The shadow creature... and then this. Had I been trapped by this monster? More likely, that thing was serving a master - but who? I had my doubts, but thinking about the possibility forming at the back of my mind was enough to twist my stomach back into knots of overcooked spaghetti.

Sighing, I gave up on trying to call out and leaned back against the metal pipe behind my back, falling back into a fitful sleep.

🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

- Percy

For my last night in the training arena, I just had to come accross with a drunken old man in underwear in our apartment.

After the evaluation session with the now-traumatized Gamemakers, we milled on to our activities for the rest of our time in the training arena, seizing the opportunity to learn a few new tricks - hell, I actually tried some rope tying. I even managed to make a shoelace knot!

- That's far from impressive, Percy.

Don't worry, you guys, Annie's just being salty cause she can't tie her shoelaces as perfectly as I can.

Anyways, it was the last night of our stay in the arena, and the five of us had separated to take dinner in our penthouse, as usual. The suite was mostly empty, as usual, except for a few Avoxes rushing around preparing our meals - no matter how many times we tried telling them we could do it ourselves. It was almost fear-inducing how dedicated they were in serving us like they were our slaves - everytime we attempted to stop them from doing the dishes, cleaning the bathroom, taking care of the laundry, they'd glance back at us with a frightened look in their eyes, like an animal stuck in a cage, and continue their task. As if they feared a beating if they stopped working for just a second...

The three of us headed over to the grandiose front door of our penthouse, Piper slowly pushing the entrance open...

... to reveal a man roughly in his fifties, his untrimmed beard stained with specks of tomato sauce, his only piece of clothing being some splendidly horrifying hot pink boxers, sprawled out on the couch with a bottle of beer in hand.

"What the hell?" We all exclaimed in unison. As a response, the man simply belched loudly, throwing his head back.
We warily stood at the entrance, unsure of what to do. Had a homeless man just found a way into suite? If that was the case, we honestly probably would've let him stay, but this guy seemed perfectly comfortable and at home here.

"Who are you?" Piper asked cautiously, taking a step into the brightly illuminated room.
The man laid his feet on the ground, sitting up with a light smirk on his face as he seemingly evaluated us from head to feet. When he finally spoke, it was with a light accent resembling that of southern America. "Mmm, yeah, I'm the poor guy who had the bad luck of being sent by the Capitol to help you kids not die too quickly in the arena. Wouldn't put too much of a show, eh?"

The man finally managed to stand up, wincing as he arched his back, stretching his muscles with a few quiet cracks and pops. He crossed the distance separating us and held out his hand casually. "Haymitch Abernathy, at your service."

***

Turned out, Haymitch was the rather friendly kind. Inviting us to sit at a nearby table like we were guests in his home, he proceeded to spend the next few minutes explaining to us what exactly he'd been sent here for - apparently, every tribute pair from each district obtained a mentor, and Haymitch had been sent to fill that role with us. The reason he hadn't arrived with the other mentors was because of our unexpected addition to the games, the Capitol needing to search for and transport someone else to guide us.

Apparently, Haymitch was an old victor from a past Hunger Games, and was currently enjoying his alcohol-induced life over at a luxurious place called Victor's Village. He'd reluctantly accepted (read, been forced) to mentor the five of us for this year, and had already headed over to Frank and Hazel's apartment to explain the same things he had to us.

He told us everything we needed to know or clarify - we learned about sponsors, the Cornucopia, the occasional feasts during the Games, etc. After the conversation, we were about as informed as regular tributes - and ready to kick serious butt.

Later on that night, Haymitch talked to us about an upcoming event we'd have to face, something impacting capitally the eye the spectators laid on us during the arena... the chariot rides.

Originally, they were supposed to occur before we entered the training arena, but this year they'd been delayed to the end of the week because of our impromptu arrival. We were going to be exposed to the Capitol, as well as the entire population in the districts watching from home. And honestly, I had no idea how they'd take the fact that there were five additional tributes thrown into the arena this time...

"Just smile and wave," Haymitch told us, leaning back on his chair as he sipped on his root beer. "They're expecting nothing more of you but to look pretty and friendly. If they throw roses at you, congratulations! You've won the heart of the people of our beautiful country," he said with an easily discernable scent of bitterness.

I nodded, half-absent from the conversation - my mind had abruptly decided to drift away to the pit of devouring anxiety I'd come to be familiar with over the past few days.
Annabeth.

I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, even though I knew deep down that it wasn't my fault. Still... I'd forgotten her. I'd forgotten Annie, and had left her vulnerable to gods knew who. If Nyx was the one who'd captured her... no, I'd much rather not think about it. The only thing right now I could do was pray that she was okay.

Far later that night, lying on the single bed, I stared up into the ceiling, letting my thoughts drift - even the number of ridiculously comfortable cushions didn't seem to be helping my sleep tonight.

Tomorrow, all five of us would be facing yet another challenge - to make a solid impression to the Capitol, and the rest of the country. If we didn't gain their support... our rebellious plan would fail before it had even started.

So, we'd better rock this world tomorrow... or else.

🍪 Author's Note - July 31st, 2020

Hey everyone! Hope you enjoyed this much longer than usual chapter. Looks like our Annie's in for a rough patch...

I'd just like to say that today, Camp NaNoWriMo July - a competition in which you sign up to try and attain a highest word count as possible- comes to an end, and with this chapter I have achieved my 10k-word goal!

Without you guys, I never would've found the motivation to write as much this month, and I just wanted to thank each and every one of your beautiful souls for coping with me during this chaotic journey 🙏

See ya around ! <3