Hi!!! So, if you are curious, this is a newly revised Chapter 14! I have been working on this and a brand new Chapter 15! The other chapters will be adjusted accordingly. After reading through what I had written for Chapter 13, it just seemed so choppy that I had to expand for it to not hurt my brain. 

If you are new and this is your first time reading through this story, welcome!!!! 

I'm so grateful and thankful for everyone who takes the time to read my story. Feel welcome to leave comments, questions, suggestions, and opinions (respectfully). I will do my best to respond to each comment :) 

kindly remember to vote if you are enjoying!

Take care and stay safe! ~CANGEL

***

Scarlet Wolfe

     Scarlet disliked the elevator just as much the second time. It hadn't even started moving yet, and already her stomach was rolling in anticipation. She arranged herself in the far back corner, locking her hands over the railing while looking through the doors at Penelope, who seemed to be unable to accept that her role was not required any further.

     "...As tributes, you're not allowed to leave the Training Center without authorization. You'll be staying there throughout lunch. Bathrooms and a dining room are within the Center. You can only go between this floor and the Training Center. Don't enter another district's floor." Penelope rushes through the last of her rules as the doors begin closing. Her eyes lock on Scarlet's, "And do not cause any—"

     The doors closed, cutting off any of Penelope's remaining words. Scarlet took a deep breath as the elevator began its descent a moment later. She caught a glimpse of her brother in the reflection of the metal doors, his expression unreadable.

     The enclosed space of the elevator amplified the growing tension she felt with her brother. Once they reached the main floor, she knew their paths would split apart. Their plans wouldn't align with each other's and from this point on they would not only be planning a way for themselves to win, but actively working towards the other's death.

     When the elevator passed all the other floors without pausing, Scarlet straightened her posture, rolling her shoulders back, prepared to be greeted by the sight of every tribute there waiting for Crimson and herself to arrive.

     When the sign above the door lit up a G, the elevator came to a full stop that jarred her sensitive stomach. She drew a deep breath as the doors began to open.

     The moment they stepped out of the elevator, several pairs of eyes found them. Despite Penelope's warning, they were nowhere near the last tributes to arrive. None of the Careers or District 4 had yet to make an appearance. All the tributes that were already here were each sitting on a metal chair with their district number painted on the back. And all of them were from the outer districts, looking either scared and uncertain or downright terrified, while others tried to mask their fear or resignation with forced bravado.

     They were the youngest, smallest, and weakest of the tributes, likely the first to die. Scarlet hated that the rest of the tributes would see her here and lump her into the same group. She might be young and small, but she wasn't weak.

     Scarlet raised an eyebrow to Crimson, silently asking him what they should do now but found Crimson already moving forward toward the empty chairs labeled 14. She moved to follow him, her steps steady and deliberate, trying to hide the flustered feeling inside her.

     As they approached their chairs an assistant, dressed in plain grey slacks and a matching shirt met Crimson holding two pieces of paper in his hands. Scarlet stopped a short distance away as her brother turned around. The assistant stood at his back for a moment, before stepping away. She tried to decipher what had been done, but once again, Crimson refused to acknowledge her silent question and turned his back to her.

     She saw the answer to her question regardless, catching sight of the large number 14 pinned to his back. The assistant approached her next, holding only one piece of paper in their hand. She turned her back without a word, feeling the eight of the number 14 now pinned to her back. The implications were not lost on her. She was marked, identified to all by her district number, a constant reminder of where she came from, and the low expectations associated with it.

     Scarlet wouldn't let those expectations or the deaths of all the previous District 14 tributes define her. Scarlet would never willingly accept death and she would fight for her life with her very last breath.

     She took her seat next to Crimson, glancing around the room once more. Directly in front of them was a glass wall that had been frosted to prevent a full view of the room that lay beyond. On that wall is the symbol of Panem, bold and black, contrasting sharply against the frosted wall. Panem's flag hung from a stand just to the left of its emblem, standing as a reminder to all the tributes why they were here in the first place. To serve the nation of Panem and accept punishment on behalf of their districts.

     Scarlet looked away, burying the rising disgust. There was nothing to be done about why they were there. She could only focus on surviving long enough to get out of there.

     There were two large glass doors in the middle of the wall across from them and inside, Scarlet can just make out the barest amount of the large room. The size of it—even just the part that she could see, took her breath away as it was easily twice as big as their entire District 14 floor. She could not even see the ceiling from where she sat, but from the ceiling hung a few different types of ropes and even a rope ladder. She could make out a few tables, though she could not tell what they held from where she was.

     It didn't matter what it held though—whatever it was, was likely life-saving knowledge. And Scarlet wanted it.

     Her fingers itched with the desire to get inside that room. Today she would focus on learning. She would spend her time observing and learning the other tributes. Tomorrow, she would have some fun.

     With that in mind, she turned her attention back to the tributes that were already in their seats. The District 12 tributes sat next to Crimson and Scarlet. Dawson and Lilian were their names, and they were both thirteen years old. From watching their Reaping Ceremony on the train, Scarlet recalled that neither had seemed like much then, and in person, they seemed like even less with dark hair, dull grey eyes and hunched shoulders that made their small frames look even smaller and more fragile.

     District 10 was the next closest, with the metal chairs of District 11 bare, . Last year's Victor came from District 10. But this year, there simply was no comparison to be had. Jackson Spidell had been eighteen years old and built like an ox, but more than that, he had exuded confidence—at least anytime Scarlet had seen him on the television.

     Meanwhile, Drake and Melania sat quietly in their seats looking terrified as they stared at the room beyond the glass doors. In other circumstances, Scarlet might have felt pity for them, but now, Scarlet could only think about how much their fear would help her.

     However, even they looked better than the tributes from District 9. On the stage of their District, she'd been worried that the boy might blow away in the wind, and up close, his state of being was even worse. His arms were the size of twigs. And his legs were all bone. It was hard to imagine someone living worse off than her, but Gerald sat in his chair proving that it was possible to be living while wasting away to nothing but bones and skin. He was supposedly fifteen years old but while he might have been as tall as her, he most definitely weighed less than her sixty pounds.
Scarlet shifted her attention away from them and the uncomfortable feeling that rose when she thought about how easy it would be to kill him or the girl who currently sat in her chair crying.

     At the end of the first row was the fourteen and fifteen-year-old tributes from District 7. Out of everyone here—apart from Scarlet and Crimson—they seemed the most put together. Quietly sitting in their chairs, they waited for the beginning of training. Even though both had hollow cheeks, they had a clear showing of well-built muscles on their arms. Axes.

     Crimson shifts at her side, his attention moving towards the elevator and Scarlet turns that way as well.

     Out of the just opened elevator comes Districts 11 and 8. She felt Crimson's shoulders drop as the tension left Crimson, seeming to flow from him to her as she looked at them. An eighteen-year-old, two seventeen-year-olds, and a sixteen-year-old. They were all bigger and would be far stronger than her. Of course, not as big as the Careers, but all four of them towered over her and Crimson as they walked past them to get to their seats.

     As Valerio sat down in his District 11 seat, Scarlet had to squash the feeling of a little child playing pretend. With that feeling came bitterness. No one would doubt that he could be capable of winning.

     Scarlet slouched in her seat, uninterested in looking at the remaining tributes. Instead, she glared at the glass doors opposite her, stewing in her misery as she waited for the final six tributes to arrive.

     Only a few minutes later, the glint of light reflecting on the elevators drew her attention that way as Loach and Roe stepped off the elevator. Scarlet caught sight of Finnick leaning against the back of the elevator, hands in his pockets as he kept his eyes firmly on the ground. Her brow furrowed at the sight, as he wasn't allowed to be there, right?

     She turned back to Crimson. "Can mentors come here?"

     "No." Her brother answered, "why?"

     "Finnick was in the elevator with his tributes."

     He shrugged his shoulder, his eyes following the District 4 tributes as they got their own number pinned to their backs. "Does it matter? It's not like he got off."

     "Yeah," Scarlet said, leaning back in her chair once more. "I guess." Still, she couldn't help but wonder where he was going as she watched the light above the elevator indicate that he was going down to the basement. Was he leaving the building? Could he leave?

     Even if he did leave, what was he doing? Did all Victors have free access to leave and go where they want?

     A sharp elbow to her arm tore her attention away from the elevator and she leveled a glare at her brother as she rubbed the sore spot that was sure to leave a bruise.

     "What?"

     "What's up with you and him anyways?"

     "Him?" She asked, though she knew perfectly well who he was talking about, she had no desire to talk about him.

     "Yeah, him. Finnick." Crimson raised a brow, his lips curving upwards. "You know, the guy you used to have a crush on—ow!" He winced through a laugh, rubbing the spot on his arm where Scarlet had just punched him.

     "I never had a crush on him." She said forcefully as anger and embarrassment coursed through her.

     "Whatever, when we were home you admired him." She doesn't have to hear him to know that when he says the word admired, he is simply making a poor attempt to placate her. Or perhaps he was just trying to rile her up. With Crimson it was always hard to tell. "Ever since we came here, you seem to hate him. What happened?"

     Fish fodder.

     Finnick's words rang through her brain and the reminder that she had once admired the person who had insulted her after only glancing at her a single time had Scarlet's tolerance for this conversation continuing hitting zero in less than a second. 

     She grabbed her brother's shirt and pulled him forward until they were close enough that they breathed the same air. "Finnick Odair is the biggest fool in this entire building. I don't ever want to talk about him again. Got it, Crimson?"

     He held up his hands in surrender, "yeah, yeah. Got it."

     She let go of his shirt and turned her attention back to the room just as the final tributes from Districts 1 and 2 arrived. Their presence immediately commanded attention and even Scarlet—despite her black mood, was not immune. Each of them were confident and comfortable as they got their numbers pinned to their backs and took their seats in the front row with an air of superiority. No one here was a threat to them. At least in their eyes.

     Scarlet would make them see the error in their judgement, but not today. Today she would find their weaknesses, and, in the Arena, she would exploit them.

     With all the tributes in their seats, the doors to the Training Center finally opened. Scarlet practically vibrated in her chair with anticipation as a tall woman stepped through the doors with a stern expression on her face and an air of authority. She was flanked by two assistants, all wearing identical uniforms, like the one who had pinned her number to her back.

     "Welcome. My name is Atila. I'll explain the rules and schedule only once, so listen up."

***

     "Once you enter the Training Center, you are free to move between activity that you choose." She said, her words sharp and to the point. Scarlet kept her eyes on Atila as she spoke, not wanting to miss anything despite her eagerness to get started. "The skills that will be available to you will range from different fighting techniques and weapons training to necessary survival skills and there will be experts at each station to assist." Atila's eyes land on the Careers in the front row, "I highly recommend that you don't ignore the survival training—though it might be less glorious," her eyes swept across the room full of tributes before continuing, "many of you will die from exposure, starvation, or dehydration after a time in the Arena."

     Scarlet listened as Atila listed various survival training stations, noting those that interested her: finding and purifying water, starting fires without kits, foraging and identifying poisonous plants, setting snares, and tracking animals. There were also stations that would give her ideas to find an appropriate shelter in the right location depending on the environment that they were thrown into.

     Among the survival skills stations there would also be stations for practicing different weapons and for practicing hand-to-hand combat. Those stations would be the ones that Scarlet would utilize tomorrow.

     Her fingers itched to get ahold of one of the daggers that she just knew was waiting for her behind those glass doors.

     Tomorrow. She repeated inside her head. Today is for survival and observation.

     "Alright, follow me." Atila announced while turning around and walking through the glass doors. Scarlet rose to her feet but hung back as the others began shuffling to the doors with the Careers leading in the front. Worry gnawed at her insides as she began walking.

     It would be one thing if others knew about her deafness, but Scarlet was sure that neither Penelope nor Cassandra knew, and it wasn't something that she wanted to announce. If her disability became known then not only would she become the biggest target, but everyone would view her as a dead girl walking. There would be no coming back from that.

     As Atila walked toward the center, pointing out different stations, Scarlet's eyes wandered, taking in the vastness of the Training Center. From her seat, it had seemed large, but now, standing inside, it felt impossibly big. The metal walls rose around them, cold and imposing, while the ceilings vaulted high above, supported by sturdy metal beams. Five single ropes and one rope ladder dangled from the framework, each swaying slightly in the artificial breeze.

     Large, industrial lights hung from the ceiling, casting a harsh, unwavering glow on everything below. Circular tubes snaked across the ceiling, leading to several large metal boxes. Standing beneath one, Scarlet felt a flow of cold air against her skin, her hair fluttering. She took a deep breath, welcoming the coolness. It wasn't anywhere near as cold as the air back home, but it was a nice relief from the constant heat of the Capitol.

     The center of the room was dominated by two hand-to-hand combat rings, both with ropes surrounding the lifted platforms. Surrounding the rings in a sort of circle were various stations, each designed for teaching different survival skills.

     There were some stations with no clear meaning made to her holding fancy screens and buttons that she had no idea how to use. But there were others that were easier to determine their survival skill. One station had ropes laid out, another had several piles of wood on the floor. The number of stations just for survival skills seemed endless to her eyes, each one with a different expert ready to teach them everything they knew about that skill. Scarlet was immediately glad that she had decided to use the entire day today to go from station to station in order to learn as much as she could.

     Beyond the combat rings, weapons racks were on display, showcasing gleaming swords, small throwing blades, spears, tridents, and axes, each of them promising lethality. Along the side of the room there was a designated archery range with a rack of bows and several sheaths of arrows standing nearby. Alongside the archery range were various other ranges intended for different long-range weapons to be used to test the tributes' precision and skill.

     An arm brushed hers, pulling her attention from her surroundings to the person standing beside her. Wide grey eyes met hers and he offered her a timid smile. "Sorry." His eyes moved around the room before landing back on her. "This room is unbelievable, right?"

     She nodded, "certainly nothing like it in District 14."

     He extended his hand. "I'm—"

     "—Dawson from District 12." Scarlet finished for him, keeping her hands at her side. "I know who you are."

     Dawson lowered his hand to his side, a hint of a smile lingering on his face. "I guess we all kind of know each other, don't we?" he said, his face was a mixture of nerves and attempted friendliness.

     As the tributes in front of her stopped, Scarlet followed suit and looked ahead. Atila turned back towards the group and Scarlet focused ahead once more.

     "Before you are free, I will take one more moment of your time." She glances at each of the tributes as she pauses, but her eyes linger on the Careers, and Scarlet swears that they linger longer on her as well. "Anyone caught fighting another tribute or found to have caused harm to another tribute while in this Training Center will be severely punished. To be absolutely clear, even if two tributes willing agree to train with one another, if one of them is injured, the other will be punished." Atila points to a desk by the glass door manned with two assistants in blue uniforms. "If you are injured at any of these stations, you may go there to seek medical attention. Do not let small injuries become big ones." She points to her head. "Be smart."

     With that final piece of advice, Atila walks away. For a moment, chaos erupts around Scarlet as the tributes move to different stations. The Careers along with District 4 went directly to the weapons and Scarlet watched as her brother headed toward the weapons area as well.

     Before she could think too much into his reasons for doing so, Dawson stepped in front of her, blocking her vision.

     She raised a brow, irritated at his lingering presence.

     "We're going to the station that teaches us about edible food. Would you like to join us?"

     Only after his words did she notice the petite girl from his district that stood next to him. Lilian.

     "No." Scarlet answered quickly. She wasn't here to make friends.

     Dawson's eyes widened and he took a hesitant step back, "sorry."

     She realized that her words probably had sounded harsher than intended and his hurried apology confirmed it.

     Scarlet took a breath to calm herself and pointed to the empty station closest to them. Water purification and location. "I'm going there." Not only was it obviously the most important station to learn from, but it would also let her have a full view of the rest of the room.

     She started walking in that direction, leaving the two tributes from District 12 behind her. As she approached the otherwise unoccupied station she wondered if being by herself would draw more attention than if she were working alongside others.

      Before she could second guess her own actions or think too heavily into why she did it, she called over her shoulder to the tributes that she knew were still waiting there. "Finding drinkable water is the most important thing in the Arena, you should do that first."

--------------

I'm calling out to all Readers RIGHT NOW! Place your bets in the comments!

Will she or won't she make an alliance with District 12???? (If you've read ahead, don't spoil!!)

Kindly remember to vote if you have enjoyed! Keep reading to see how Day 1 of training goes!

Take care and stay safe! ~CANGEL