The Hunger Games: The First Quarter Quell [BEING STARTED OVER]

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  • edited July 2015

    All aboard the feel train

    TWD_stan posted: »

    THE FEELS

  • Well, her brothers are pretty cool.

    mr.quality posted: »

    Poor Aura... Her family just seems to really suck. Great part!

  • two down, three to go.

    Great part, can't wait to get to know to the other characters!

  • Thanks. Next one coming up is Saul.

    Oh my poor Aura ;_; I knew she would give me the feels, but this is easily more than I have hoped for. She's great. And Rowan is still a dic

  • And it's just gonna get worse.. Isn't it? ;-;

    All aboard the feel train

  • Any updates on how the story is going so far? :D

  • Well about all I have is a chapter outline. Part 1 is going to have 20-25 chapters in it.

    TWD_stan posted: »

    Any updates on how the story is going so far?

  • Jesus omg I can't wait slcmcndbdhshdhxbd

    Well about all I have is a chapter outline. Part 1 is going to have 20-25 chapters in it.

  • edited July 2015

    Chapter 2: The Dark Canopy

    Saul Arrem

    The branches were rough and firm, and each one was another Saul called his own. The orchard was his home and his workplace and he liked to spend countless hours amidst its treetops, longing to grab onto one more branch or pick one more apple. Because the moment he climbed down, and the moment his feet touched the earth, he had descended back into hell.

    He grasped onto another branch and swung to the next tree. There was a little area within the branches a ways ahead where two trees had become entangled together, and they made a perfect resting spot. It was almost as if it were a room, and Saul used it as such. It was a place he could get away from everything.

    Saul had almost outgrown his orphanage. At eighteen, he had almost everything that was once his taken from him, except his sister and his own life. He hardly remembered his parents. He was very young when his father died, and his mother left long before that. But what memories he still had were good ones. All he could conjure was that his father was a good man... And man he strived to become like.

    He gazed towards the sky and took note of the light haze that he hadn't noticed on the way over to the orchard. He passed it off as fog and kept moving. It was frequently foggy in District 11. Saul found it kept him sharp, having to look through the fog and try to find what the meaning was behind it.

    District 11 was not a place you could exist in without a backup plan. It was cold, brutal, and every time you didn't say the exact right thing, you could be forever branded a title, if the upper class citizens were feeling generous. It's main export to the capital was agriculture, and anyone worth anything was tough as nails. It was a privilege for Saul just to have a place to escape to. And he would bring his sister along with him, if only she could climb as well as he could. Pearra could barely lift even her own weight, let alone carry herself into the orchard.

    Saul had very dark skin, just as most in District 11. There, you were hard pressed to find a person that wasn't black, but the paler ones were the lowest of class, and were looked down upon by everyone. Saul's kid sister, Peara, was one of these. Her skin was white, and very pale, to match her red eyes. She was an albino, yet everyone still managed to treat her like shit. When Saul defended the girl, and he did with every fiber of his being, he always always caught in the crossfire of the hate. But he didn't mind too much. Whenever he felt lonely, he could retreat into the treetops. It somehow made him feel more whole. It made him feel invincible.

    Peara was home today, or whatever could pass for a home for the two of them. It was St. Rhodes' orphanage, and much like the rest of the district, it was torn apart by gangs and other unpleasant groups. Saul fought as hard as he could to shield his little sister from it, but she had grown too old for that. She turned twelve earlier that month, and Saul decided once you're old enough to get shipped off to the arena, you're old enough to handle yourself. And for once in his life, he could finally journey out to his orchard in somewhat of a peaceful state.

    As Saul passed another tree on the path to his destination, he knew it as a tree that meant something to him. Closer to the ground, carved into the stump were his initials and the initials of a young girl, woven inside each other. Her name was Beth. They had spent many hours out at this tree when he was young. When they were foolish, they discussed plans of marriage. It was part of the reason these woods became such a home to Saul.

    Countless days he would spend with this girl. And on the days he didn't spend with her, he sat in these trees, chewing on apples and wondering what the next day would hold for him. Now, Saul had a different mindset. He was no longer the optimist his earlier self had been, but a realist, and he spent more time looking longingly at the past than anxiously at the future. This place was where Saul first fell in love.

    He moved on, hopping from branch to branch, passing various flora and fauna below. It was a very serene way to live, the leaves of the apple trees dancing all around him and the sun barely reaching through the canopy above. Although, today, the sun shined far less because the farther and farther he traveled south, the darker it got. He wasn't quite sure why.

    There was one more tree he passed on the way to the grove. It wasn't like the others. It was a nice oak with a bent trunk near the bottom, making a nice seating area. Its bark was peeling off the trunk. Its branches, however were very dense and were a mess to climb through. Saul found it best to avoid this one when he walked to his grove. But the tree... He had spent countless hours at this one as well. After they started dating, Beth and Saul came out to this tree almost every day and drank moonshine by the moonlight. It was their thing, and that's what Saul liked to remember this tree by. It was the tree where he had first tasted alcohol.

    He continued on his journey, climbing over branch by branch. Saul was very adept at climbing the trees, and he had been ever since he'd taken an apprenticeship to Mr. Munrow, the owner of the orchard. He'd spent most waking hours within these branches, plucking out bad apples before the trees were harvested. He had the job ever since. It was why the woods were his home.

    The next tree he passed that meant something to him was actually two trees about two or three feet apart, but they were so close together Saul considered them one. Beth had once pointed out that the trees were so close together on one of their walks through the orchard, and suggested that maybe one day the two would be just as close as the trees were. That was the tree where Saul had his first kiss.

    As Saul drew farther and farther into the orchard, the light became darker and darker, and it became harder to see five feet in front of his face. He didn't know where the fog was coming from, but it smelled very bad. He began to cough and reached into his pocket. He brought out his inhaler, and pressed it against his mouth, drawing a deep breath from it. Saul hated the little device. It reminded him that he couldn't spend very long reflecting at the nature around him before he had to use something from the man-made world. But he had asthma, and if he didn't have his inhaler with him, he could succumb to an attack out here, and no one would ever find him.

    The next tree he passed was a giant one. It was one of the largest in the orchard. It towered above the other trees, and its leaves covered even the canopy itself. It used to be one of his favorites to climb. But, one day, when Beth and Saul came through this path, a man jumped from the bushes below and stabbed him in the shoulder, and proceeded to try and rape the girl. He beat the man's had against that tree until his brain fell from his skull. That was the tree where Saul first took the life of another human being.

    He took great care in avoiding that tree, even navigating through a prickly pine tree to take a detour. This orchard was a forest of memories, and the ones previously had been good ones. Saul wished the grove had ended up in another direction, so he wouldn't have to dwell on his life every time he ventured out there, but there was no way he could find a better spot for relaxation than his grove. The dark mist became thicker and Saul realized it was smoke. His pace became quicker.

    The next tree was a small one. It didn't even find its way to reach to the canopy. It was a baby tree, but it was even smaller when Beth had broken up with him. "You're a killer, Saul." She had told him. "I can't be around you anymore. I love you, but you're dangerous." It was the tree where he first had his heart broken.

    Saul felt a wave of emotion. He wasn't one to cry over loss, and he hadn't cried once since he was an infant. It wasn't because he was tough. He was actually more sensitive than most people, but others' ways led to tears, and his way led to solemnity.

    As Saul grabbed the next branch, he spotted the last tree in his story. The walnut tree in the middle of an apple orchard. He remembered the horror he felt that day. He rounded the bend, trying to meet her where she said she would be. When he got there, he was forced to look upwards. She was swinging by the neck with a wire from the great walnut tree. This was the tree he first felt true loneliness. That day was last week.

    With a heavy heart, Saul proceeded to the route. After two or three minutes, he looked down to the fence on the ground. It was electrified and grated at the top. It was meant to keep people from leaving District 11, but it had never stopped Saul. The forest extended past the fence and the grove was behind it. Saul stepped past, knowing if he was caught out here, he would surely be arrested. He knew what they did to people who tried to leave the district. Mr. Munrow had a slave once... One of those avoxes...

    Saul climbed further into the forest. The apple trees slowly became oak and pine, and eventually the orchard had ceased and became deciduous. The people who cut these kinds of trees down didn't care to look outside the walls, and that was how Saul liked it. It was untouched. He coughed a minute through the smoke and realized it was getting difficult to breathe.

    For a moment, it felt like Saul was going to slip from the trees and plummet to the ground below. He'd never fallen before... He enjoyed spending most of his time in the trees, since there was nothing on the ground he could say was truly his. At least, within the branches he could be away from the world below. It was the only place he felt free.

    And then Saul grabbed the last branch. He didn't have to climb farther to see what had become of his orchard. The space that was once fruit-bearing and inhabited was barren and empty. Dead stumps littered the ground like craters. Those trees were the only thing Saul could call his own, and now they were gone.

    The scorch marks ran over the ground like scars. Everything throughout the entire valley was gray and withered. All the trees had either fallen down or turned to dust. He couldn't help but think how many millions of animals and insects were killed by the fire. Seeing it felt as though it took a part out of Saul. It made a deep pain in his chest, far worse than any caused by his asthma. The grove was nowhere to be found, because it had burned up in the fire. His home was dead.

    He shouted at the top of his lungs. The sound echoed over itself a few times. The hill he stood upon had an advantage on the rest of the valley, and Saul used to look down at it with joy. It felt like his. This forest felt like his child. Besides his sister, it was the only thing that mattered in his life.

    He squinted and made out a brightness through the smoke spreading over the land. The fire was still lit! It was climbing the mountain on the other side of the valley inch by inch like a slug. He knew he had to stop it. But how could he? No one would take the time to come all the way out past the fence to extinguish the fire. It would keep burning and burning until there was nothing left of the forest and the valley.

    He could make his way back to the orchard and to his master, and warn him. He would really be the only one within District 11 truly affected, since it could spread to the orchard and kill all the trees, but he couldn't bring himself to do so without hesitation. He was behind the fence... They would arrest him, lock him up... or worse...

    http://strawpoll.me/5047071

  • Poor Saul. His memories are actually so sad :(

    Anyways, I chose for Saul to be quiet since he was outside the fence. If he was caught, a lot of bad things can happen and I don't really want that ;-;

    Chapter 2: The Dark Canopy Saul Arrem The branches were rough and firm, and each one was another Saul called his own. The orchard was

  • Nice chapter! :)

    Chapter 2: The Dark Canopy Saul Arrem The branches were rough and firm, and each one was another Saul called his own. The orchard was

  • Nice chapter! Saul is cool.

    Chapter 2: The Dark Canopy Saul Arrem The branches were rough and firm, and each one was another Saul called his own. The orchard was

  • edited July 2015

    It'S AUl good man!

    Chapter 2: The Dark Canopy Saul Arrem The branches were rough and firm, and each one was another Saul called his own. The orchard was

  • Alt text

    TheLier posted: »

    It'S AUl good man!

  • Thanks.

    mr.quality posted: »

    Nice chapter! Saul is cool.

  • Thanks.

    Nice chapter!

  • Yeah the reason this chapter took so long is because I had a really hard time writing a chapter with no dialogue. So I added the memories in there.

    TWD_stan posted: »

    Poor Saul. His memories are actually so sad Anyways, I chose for Saul to be quiet since he was outside the fence. If he was caught, a lot of bad things can happen and I don't really want that ;-;

  • Very engaging stuff. A good insight into Saul's character :)

    A tough choice both emotionally and logically, but I've gone with keeping quiet. Like TWD_stan said, there's no telling what trouble he could get into.

    Chapter 2: The Dark Canopy Saul Arrem The branches were rough and firm, and each one was another Saul called his own. The orchard was

  • Thanks. Yeah the choice is almost tied now.

    Very engaging stuff. A good insight into Saul's character A tough choice both emotionally and logically, but I've gone with keeping quiet. Like TWD_stan said, there's no telling what trouble he could get into.

  • Awesome chapter!

    Chapter 2: The Dark Canopy Saul Arrem The branches were rough and firm, and each one was another Saul called his own. The orchard was

  • @LiquidChicagoTed I noticed you haven't commented so i'm assuming you accidentally unfollowed the fanfic? xD (dun hate me if i'm wrong :c)

  • Thank you so much for reminding me :) You're right, I got unfollowed from the story. Not the first time that happens to me, but the first time I haven't noticed.

    TWD_stan posted: »

    @LiquidChicagoTed I noticed you haven't commented so i'm assuming you accidentally unfollowed the fanfic? xD (dun hate me if i'm wrong :c)

  • That was a great part! Saul is another very interesting character, his backstory nicely contrasts with Aura's. I'm looking forward for his storyline as well.

    Chapter 2: The Dark Canopy Saul Arrem The branches were rough and firm, and each one was another Saul called his own. The orchard was

  • edited October 2015

    Hey, it's back. By now you guys can tell I'm really bad at sticking to deadlines. Just know it's not because I'm giving up, it's because I have a very short attention span.

    69% of readers chose to [A. Tell about the fire.]


    Saul couldn't see this place go up in flames. He had a hard time even maintaining his gaze on the fire on the other side of the valley. And so, without hesitation, he immediately turned in the opposite direction and climbed through the branches as fast as he could. He had to get back before it spread to the orchard.

    He passed tree after tree, not even stopping to glance upon the few trees he had spent so much time recollecting in his mind. They had been his spiritual journey through so many days of his life, having to pass through it to reach his place of peace. And though they told a story, they taught him the one principle Saul liked to carry over his life: Trust no one.

    Saul used to be the trusting kind, but that started to slowly decline when he was thirteen and his parents died. They told him they would never leave and yet they did. Granted, it was out of their control, but he didn't realize that at the time. He knew he couldn't count on other people, and it was this notion that caused him to want to be, as best he could, the type of person you really could count on. It was mostly for his sister. Without him, she would truly have no one.

    Tree after tree, he flew past them. When you spend a certain amount of time in the trees, you'll find you can find footing anywhere. And as he approached the edge of the forest, the cabin came into view. It was store where Munrow sold his apples, and where he lived. He'd asked, time and time again if Pearra and himself could be allowed to stay there, but he'd refused. There was barely enough space for him.

    Saul hopped out of the tree and onto the ground. The cabin was shoddy as ever, with a panel on the back of the home peeling off the wall like paper. It could barely even be qualified as shelter, but it did the job. He approached the door and flung it open, causing the top hinge to fly out of its socket. When he was on the other side, he placed the bolt back in place and turned around.

    Mr. Munrow stood there behind the counter with a scowl on his face just as he did every day. His graying beard stretched all throughout his chin but didn't quite reach his scalp. His freckles were many, as he was nearing the end of life expectancy. But Saul didn't expect him to die any time soon. The man was tough.

    "What are you doing here, boy?" Munrow spat distastefully. He took a bite of what looked like oatmeal from a bowl on the counter. "You got off work an hour ago."

    Saul breathed a sigh of relief, taking out his inhaler and using it. He usually didn't run that far. "There's... a fire... sir."

    "A fire?" He asked raising his eyebrow. "In our orchard?"

    "No..." Saul continued. "It's just beyond the fence, but it could easily spread if we let it. It's going to get to us, sir!"

    "Ah." The man didn't look surprised. He only pointed to the wooden seat in front of him. "Have a seat, son."

    Saul followed his finger and sat in the rickety wooden rocking chair placed next to the wall. "We don't have long before it burns up the whole forest!"

    "That forest is outside the wall." He replied. "It poses no threat to us and our orchard."

    "But it does, sir." Saul shook his head. "The fire's slowly climbing over the hill, and soon enough it will hit District 11."

    "No, I don't think it will." He shook his head, taking the final bite from the oatmeal.

    "How do you know?"

    "Because I'm the man who hired the archer to shoot a bloody burning arrow into those woods.

    Saul clutched the edge of his seat. "Why would you do something like that?"

    "Those trees out there take nutrients from the soil. Nutrients which the apple trees need."

    Mr. Munrow reached over the counter and grabbed a bottle of wine. With a flick of the wrist, he put two glasses on the table and filled them both. He gestured one towards Saul, and he accepted it hesitantly "I'm only eighteen, sir..."

    "Don't matter." He replied. Saul took a sip. The alcohol kicked him back in his seat. When the glass came down, he continued. "You're enough of a man to go to prison, you're enough of a man to drink wine."

    "Prison?" Saul's eyes went wide. "Why would I go to prison, sir?"

    "I'd like to ask you how you were so sure of the fire reaching District 11." He put the bottle of wine back on the shelf. "Any man on this side of the fence wouldn't even be able to spot the flames." Saul heard a loud crash, and the door flew open, past the loose hinge and onto the floor. Three Peacekeepers in all white armor burst into the room with tasers and guns. "I've suspected you were breaking the law for a long time, Saul. I just needed an admittance before I could call them on your ass."

    "But...why, sir?" He asked, as two of the men took him by the arms. He attempted to wrestle away but it was no use. He wasn't strong enough. "What have I ever done to you?!"

    "It's not what you've done to me. But what you've done to our district." Munrow took one last bite from his oatmeal before Saul was hastily dragged from the doorway. "Goodbye Saul Arrem. I'll see you on the other side."

    End of Chapter 2

  • Yay! It's back! And Damn Saul, looks like he's in trouble.

    Great part!

    Hey, it's back. By now you guys can tell I'm really bad at sticking to deadlines. Just know it's not because I'm giving up, it's because I h

  • What the? Ugh, I told you guys not to warn me about the fire D:

    I'm glad this is back. I thought it was gone forever like the other fanfics :c

    Hey, it's back. By now you guys can tell I'm really bad at sticking to deadlines. Just know it's not because I'm giving up, it's because I h

  • warn me about the fire D:

    o.O Mr. Munrow?

    TWD_stan posted: »

    What the? Ugh, I told you guys not to warn me about the fire I'm glad this is back. I thought it was gone forever like the other fanfics :c

  • Thanks.

    mr.quality posted: »

    Yay! It's back! And Damn Saul, looks like he's in trouble. Great part!

  • It's me ;)

    warn me about the fire o.O Mr. Munrow?

  • Hello friends. I would like to write a formal apology for neglecting this piece and not telling you guys anything about it. I had to take an amount of time off because of a personal matter, but I would like to get back into writing. And in the light of the October super month in episodic gaming, I'm going to try and pull forth the energy to get at least the first part done. And some of you guys who have read my Walking Dead fanfic, I'll be bringing that one back soon too.

  • Chapter 3: Blood in the Water

    Marten Lewis

    Marten threw the spear into the midst of the creek with the brutish strength of an ox. When he saw the bladed end had pierced its target, he grabbed it from the water and observed the wound. It was straight through the skull of the fish, leaving the meat fully intact. He placed the perfect catch in his satchel. It felt like home. He never wanted to leave this river.

    "Nice catch, small fry." Spoke his older sister, Willy. She wiped her blonde bangs from her eyes, and sighed. She held up her own spear, presenting a fish of better size and quality. She laughed. "Mine's better, but hey, your fish was farther away."

    Willy was three years older than him, and was a giant compared to other girls. She stood a bit above six feet and could bench more than most body builders, and Marten was no different. Their family was not known for being particularly pretty, but for being tough. As long as he could remember, he'd never found anyone stronger than him that wasn't a member of his family tree.

    "Yup." He replied to his sister. He wasn't anything of a talker. He'd always figured actions spoke far more than words, and anything he had to say, he would do so through the way he acted. He enjoyed being quiet. It felt peaceful to him, and in District 4, peace was something you could barely find in everyday life. It was loud, it was annoying, and everything smelled of fish. Of course, he didn't expect it not to. Fish was their main export.

    Willy, however, was radically the opposite. She was almost always talking, and when she wasn't, she was fishing. That's who they were, and everyone knew the Lewis family as fishermen. A day when Marten caught no fish seemed almost like a day lost to him.

    The girl threw her spear into the river once again, but only barely missed her target. "I think we'll call it a day, man." She said. She cast her wicked satchel to the side of the river and tiptoed her way to the shore. Marten did the same. As he sat down in the gravel of the beach, he peered up into the maroon sky, lit with a sun just above the horizon. He knew that somewhere just on the other side of it, the world dropped off completely. On the other side of the ocean... Not even President Snow knew what resided past the great sea.

    "So, I'm thinking tomorrow...we bring an extra spear... and we bring Jill along." Willy smiled, talking about their cousin who had just turned ten. "She's been wanting to come out here with us for months. I say it's time we let her." She looked at her brother and then her happy face turned to one more concerned one. It was as though she could tell Marten wasn't in the best place right now. "What's wrong, kid? You usually love sitting out here at sunset." After a brief moment of silence, she knew the answer. "You heard?"

    Marten hung his head in a solemn manner. Earlier that day, he had received the call from the hospital. Their grandfather passed away yesterday from his battle with cancer. He wasn't normally one to brood, yet this, today had a strange effect on him. It was the first time in his life anyone really important to him died... and he couldn't shed a single tear. The thought of this angered him.

    "Grandad wouldn't want us to loom over his death." Willy shook her head. "He wasn't that kind of person. Grandad was the kind of person who took his fishing spear in one hand and his life in the other." She paused for a moment before opening her eyes again and speaking softer. "He was..."

    Marten knew she was right. The way she described him was exactly how he would have said it if he was good at speaking. This was why his lack of emotion terrified him. "The best damn fisher District four has ever seen..." He finished her sentence.

    "That's true." She leaned back into the gravel onto her elbows and glared into the sunset. "Mom is heartbroken... Did you see her this morning?"

    Marten nodded his head. When he'd passed through their house and out the door, the only thing he'd managed to get a glimpse of from their dusty kitchen was the way she held her head in her hands on the table. The only other time he'd seen her get that way was when his father was sent to prison.

    "She's too hard on herself sometimes. She sees situations and blows them up like hot air balloons. I'm not gonna lie. I'm pretty shaken up about this too... So I can't imagine what it's doing to her..."

    Marten picked up a tiny blue pebble and chucked it at the creek with immense strength. It was fueled by a short spat of rage. The stone naturally skipped three or four times and landed halfway to the other side of the creek. The forest was dense and dark over there, and it seemed like the moment he stepped in, he'd never be able to find his way back out. He'd never built up the courage to check. "She's a sweet woman..." He said.

    "You know... You're the heir to the company now, little bro." She smiled, knocking him on the arm. He could barely feel it through his heavy green jacket. She spread her arms in the air as though to gesture to the billboard that wasn't there."Lewis n' Son's Sport and Bait... I guess the son is now the Lewis, huh? Gotta find the son..."

    Lewis scoffed, and breathed air through his nose. He didn't feel like laughing. She knocked him harder on the shoulder, and he managed to turn his head to meet her gaze and smile. "But, Willy, Dad's gonna take over the business when he gets out."

    "Dad's not coming home for a long time." She told him. "We'll be lucky if he even gets out before we're in our thirties... That would be for good behavior. And let's be honest... That's not our dad."

    Marten sighed. He knew his sister was right. His father was a good man, and Marten stood by most of his decisions. But there were times when someone would mouth off to him, or in any other way, prove themselves an asshole, and Dad would become viscous and bloodthirsty. There were times when the boy was younger that he was genuinely afraid of his old man. It wasn't til much later he realized the only reason his father went to capital prison is because someone told him that Marten wasn't going to bring their family honor.

    The moment the life left from Grandad, Marten became the sole heir to Lewis and Son's. It had become a tradition to pass it off to the eldest son. He loved fishing as a hobby, but he had come to dread the day he would take on the business. He only ever came to this creek to relax and to spend time with his sister. He was never meant for trade with the capital. He wasn't built like that.

    "I wonder what it will be like with a picture of you on the logo instead of him." She looked over into the fork in the creek thoughtfully. "I bet you'll look even more lame." Marten frowned at her and she shrugged. "Sorry. Ain't the best time, I suppose."

    "Do you want to be head, sis?" He asked, shooting her a glance. If she wanted the job, it was hers.

    "I don't want the company. The world is too fucked as it is without my help."

    "Can't argue there." She laughed, and then her tone grew a bit more serious. "This world is nothing but a bunch of dead people, lookin' to find life in the wrong place..."

    They sat in the moment together until the sun began to fall below the tree line. Willy was the first to stand up, and Marten closely followed her. She picked up her spear and his spear and jokingly chucked them into the water. "Better go grab those. I'll meet you at home."

    Marten smiled and slipped out of his sandals to wade back into the creek. He stepped ten or so feet into the creek on her request and reached the place where the spears had impaled themselves into the creek bed. He pulled them free.

    When he turned around, he was startled to find his sister gone already. In her place were three boys, all slightly older than him. He recognized the one in the middle as the carpenter's son, Ronn. He had a tuft of blonde hair on his head only barely lighter than Marten's own. He had a smirk on his face as he strode towards the man in the river. The two other boys in the background, one short with brown hair and no shirt, and the other tall with round glasses and overalls.

    "Hello, fish boy." Ronn spoke as he waded out to meet Marten. He looked around the scene and settled his eyes on the thread satchel at his side. In a swift motion, he ripped it away, breaking its shoulder strap and peeked inside to find the foot long fish. "Is that all you caught? Pity... My family was looking forward to buying it from you."

    "You still can." Marten replied kindly. The two boys at the shore sniggered. "I'd trade it for a wooden napkin holder, maybe?"

    Ronn shook his head and held the fish in the air. "This fish ain't shit." He dropped it back into the river and watched as it floated away down the stream. Marten felt a large jolt of anger, but managed to suppress it quickly.

    "Well... It's not now." He raised an eyebrow. "Bet it would have been tasty... It was a nice, young trout... The young ones are usually-"

    Ronn interrupted him by stepping hard down on Marten's exposed toe, making him wince in pain. "I...don't...care..." He shook his head again as Marten regained his posture and calamity. "How long is it going to take for you fucking Lewis' to get it. We own you. We always have. We always will."

    "What do you mean?" He asked.

    "Did your grandfather not tell you?" Ronn scowled. "Typical. The guy was a douche... transferring his debts to his grandson and not even telling him about them. Get this through your fucking skull, Marten. Your family has been taking loans from us since you were still in the crib, and paying back... Until three years ago. We're still waiting for the money, asshole."

    Marten's eyes grew wide. He didn't even know Grandad took loans from anyone, much less forgot to pay them back. "How much money is it?"

    "About enough to move to the damn capital."

    Marten raised an eyebrow. "If your family has enough money to do that, why are you still here?"

    Ronn couldn't speak for a moment, in which he couldn't find a comeback filled with vulgar words and anger. He peered at the creek, which flowed just below his knees for a moment before speaking. "It's funny... You see-" He stopped himself to drive a hate-fueled fist into Marten's gut, causing him to double over in pain. In the moment of shock, he lifted his leg high into the air and brought it down on Marten's neck, sending him into the creek. "You don't wanna pay it, get up and fight me for it." After he was done speaking, he held himself in a position as though he were ready for Marten to throw a punch.

    "I'm not going to fight you, man..." Marten replied, trying to get back up.

    Ronn stopped him by sending another foot into his right shoulder, knocking him into the creek to his left. His head became submerged and his curly blonde hair straightened and fell over his eyes. "There's only two ways out of this, Lewis. Fight me or be a pussy like your grandfather."

    There was a much larger burst of anger this time, which Marten was once again, able to quell back down to a simmer. He wasn't able to pick himself up as easily this time. "No..."

    Ronn's face visibly filled with rage. He punched the man in the face, giving him a small cut on the cheek. When Marten turned back to the water to recover, he saw drops of his own blood fall and get carried off by the current. He couldn't decide whether to restrain his intense anger. He couldn't tell whether or not the next drop of blood in the water would be his or Ronn's.

    "Why are you doing this?" Marten asked through what he knew was an enflamed left cheek.

    Ronn bent down to the man on all fours in the creek and began to whisper into his ear. "You are nothing. It's time you got that through your skull, fish boy." Ronn scowled at him. It only caused Marten to clench his fists tighter. "You're going in that arena, and the moment the timer hits zero, if you're lucky, you'll make a minute." He waited a moment and then scoffed. "You and your bloody inmate fath-"

    http://strawpoll.me/5648654

  • Yay! Glad this is back, I missed the Hunger Games fanfics:p. I hope everyone who made a character decides to wake up and be more active ._.

    Oh, and I chose to fight back :p

    Chapter 3: Blood in the Water Marten Lewis Marten threw the spear into the midst of the creek with the brutish strength of an ox. When

  • Hey! Great to see this back once again! As always, great work!

    Chapter 3: Blood in the Water Marten Lewis Marten threw the spear into the midst of the creek with the brutish strength of an ox. When

  • Awesome part!

    Chapter 3: Blood in the Water Marten Lewis Marten threw the spear into the midst of the creek with the brutish strength of an ox. When

  • Thanks. What choose?

    mr.quality posted: »

    Hey! Great to see this back once again! As always, great work!

  • What did you choose?

    supersagig posted: »

    Awesome part!

  • Like noticed you never read my walking dead fanfic. And since you're a walking dead fan, judging by your username, maybe you'd like it

    TWD_stan posted: »

    Yay! Glad this is back, I missed the Hunger Games fanfics:p. I hope everyone who made a character decides to wake up and be more active ._. Oh, and I chose to fight back

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