-Cut- me gently [Insanis + Hettie]

Ugg…

Ugh.Ugg.Ugh.

It sounds like I am training with a pig. A blonde woman, nearly the exact height as me, maybe a tad taller. She is skinny as the spears that lay waiting to be played with in the racks but the finely chiselled bicep muscles make up for her lack of meat. She has great attacking skills however I wish I had a much prettier trainer, maybe a man, they’re plenty of them dotted around the centre. I have never gotten my hands on an older man before and now that I have the opportunity to catch one; I’m not going to let that chance go.

Currently I am practicing self-defence with the woman and well she was a hard one to block at first but as soon as we got going, she is actually useless as fuck. Alternating through different combinations, she keeps throwing her punches in the same pattern and I’ve quickly picked up on it. To start with, she kept hitting me in the gut and so I grew tired and tried to throw a sucker at her face. However she saw it coming and my fist landed straight into the mirror behind her. How I wish I could’ve scratched the smug look from her face.

Although now I have re-gained myself and have started to make the blonde whore look like a fool. How I wish I could just swipe her to the ground and crush her skull with my foot. The sound of her shattering skull smashing into her non-existent brain would be a melody to my ears. How I wish I could just paint her face with the blood from her jugular vein. It would be a masterpiece for sure, worthy to hang up above the fireplace. I wonder what they’d do to me if I did it. Would they execute me for murder in the centre? Or blow up my podium before I got the chance to step off it,in the arena? I should test it.

”That’s all for now, you improved quickly from your performance when we started, maybe practice something by yourself now.” What pansy little prick she is. Biting my lip as the woman turns and leaves me by the shattered mirror; I’d begin to scan the area. My dear friends of knives are currently unaccompanied so I decide to acquaint myself with them.

Moving across the room, I’d flash my eyes at the other tributes who are training in here. There are so many youngsters, easy bait if I must say so myself although a few look like fierce competition and they aren’t even from the career districts. Picking up a knife, I’d twiddle the handle around my fingers. Standing square, I’d pull my arm back, extending the elbow and releasing the knife. Rotating through the area, the blade plants itself into the target. Straight through the heart, such a painless instant death…nothing exciting about that.

Leaning against the rack of knives, I’d play around with another blade in my hand, continuing to observe the tributes. My best friends just can’t be knives; I should create an alliance with some of these delinquents. Meat shields, pretty faces, clever brains and sadistic minds is what I am looking for and right now I have a few I favour on my mind.

Looking to the first aid station, I’d identify the District 6 male, kneeling besides a dummy. His species haven’t had a lot of luck in the games…maybe he could be a meat shield and the bad luck can take him instead of me.

Gripping hold of the knife, I’d walk towards him. Poking the dummy’s head with the blade, a sigh would roll from my mouth. ”It’s as good as dog meat; I wouldn’t waste my time trying to save it if I were you.” Kneeling down besides the dummy, I’d collect the blood that pours from the fake wound with the blade of the knife. Moving it to my nostrils, I’d take in the scent, trying to identify the substance. ”Pig blood.”

Of course it would be pig’s blood; there are enough of them in here.

Observing the severed the dummy that lies before me, its torso has a gaping wound, one that attracts me. If this was the real deal, whoever performed such an attack must be a strong wild one or the victim was very weak. The injury is a masterpiece really, opening up the body, allowing the boring soul to escape. The only exciting stuff that a human has lies within them…and I am not talking about personality. All those soft squishy organs and brittle bones, it’s so weak yet it powers a human being so well. We’re like a spider’s web. We can remain for a long time without being bothered but with one swipe of the hand…we are gone.

I haven’t planned on how I am going to tear down each tribute; of course I can’t…not now, not even when I step into the arena. I can only plan seconds before, how am I to know what situation I will be in? However this dummy has inspired me, I will be for sure taking that injury into account. I can imagine it now, the pain that the tribute would go through as they look down at their intestines gaping out of their torso. The pain would be excruciating but exciting to watch on my part.

Collecting more blood with the blade in my hand, I’d paint the silver knife with it, imagining myself in the arena doing the same with a tribute’s blood. I have to collect something from each of my kills. Not a weapon or any item…something unique. I have to mark myself as a killer, make those fear me who dare cross my path. If I look like a weakling, they’ll be all butchering me down in numbers but I don’t want to be the one on the receiving end…I want to be the butcher of this arena.

Glancing to the District Six, I’d take in his appearance; he is more than a decent looking boy. Hopefully he has a personality to match his appearance. I haven’t found anyone like me, they’re a few girls that have the same ideas as me but work towards it differently. Really, I must be unique as what I claim myself to be. However I don’t want to endure these days independently, I want a partner to accompany me. Someone to butcher with, someone to do the work I feel no effort in doing …someone to entertain me.

"I wasn't trying to save it," Glancing down at him as he talks, I stroke my index finger across the flat slide of the blade, staining my tips with the blood. "I was just... Curious." His words intrigue me, curious? Is that so… Has never seen a dead body before? I have heard about his family’s backstory with the games, with the number of his species piling up in wooden boxes, it seems odd that he hasn’t seen death before…or maybe he means something else.

Watching him rise to his feet, he towers me greatly by a number of inches however I am use to it. Being short has its advantages; I don’t feel intimidated by those of a larger height. Most giants I know are idiots anyway. Their brains have more body to run so lack a lot of power.

"You look way better from up here than down there." Glancing at the floor and back towards the boy, a smirk would roll across my face. Running my left hand through my short hair, I’d reply to his comment.”Yeah boys usually say that when I am on top.” A wink would follow my words before I turn back to the dummy.

”So…what’s so curious about a dead dummy?” Still wondering on what he meant, I’d try to analyse the boy’s mental capacity, wanting to know how he thinks.

Admiring the boy’s appearance, he really is my type, quite extraordinary how close he is. A rough looking type in my opinion, it’s his height that draw me in, a giant. The taller ones are usually the easy ones but this one doesn’t seem easy. Right now I am unable to pinpoint is mental capacity however, I have a feeling on how it works and well, I want to learn, I want to find out more about this boy. Never has a boy got me as excited as this one. In times where I should be focusing on my own survival and not hobbies I have conjured together at home, I can’t help but think about making him number thirteen…hopefully he will a lot more entertaining than the others…for sure he won’t last as long, if I want to go home.

Slightly, he reminds me on number six, which is a coincidence as that’s the District where he deprives from. Damien Stewart, a tall mighty boy, with dark features. He wanted to be a medic and had a fond interest in organs and blood…which is what lured me to him. We would cut up beasts together, pondering at the organs inside. He allowed me to harvest the blood for my own keeping. He was very sharing…but not at all obedient. He wouldn’t do what I told him too, which is why he ended up over the cliff. They say those who are clever have a large brain…this was true in his case. The remnants of his shattered skull contained such a mighty brain despite it being so flat. I can picture it now…really it was quite beautiful…a brain crawling out of a human head like the tentacles of an octopus….

”I wasn't curious about the dummy itself. Just how it got like that.” Snapping out of my thoughts, the District Six’s boy’s would help bring me back. Kicking the dummy again with my toe, it would make it budge slightly. Whoever made these dummies did a good job at making them vaguely lifelike…they are somewhat useful for us to learn from although far from the real thing. ”The trainers likely put a sword through it…If it was real, it would’ve been painful for the receiver. A quick death…but it’d likely feel like an eternity for them…especially with the blood loss.”

Hopefully he won’t ask how I know, although it is obvious, I am a career after all. The stereotype of a career is that we’re already killers so are likely used to seeing such things. Although the stereotype is rare for some as most of the people I train with are as useless as this dummy that lies before me.

”Who are you by the way?” Tugging at the four that is stitched on my shirt, a smile would present itself on my face. ”I’m the District Four…Hettie Cheyne. I know you’re a Keeni? I’ve heard your family’s name on the televisions before…” Not much luck on his front.

”How... Disappointing.” Those two simple words secure him some respect from me. Whenever I talk about death and injuries, people are always queasy and want to end the conversation. Death is beautiful; it can be made magnificent if committed correctly. For nature’s own cause of death is very dull, illness, old age, it is so un-original. Murder and accidents are more memorable. People are more likely to remember Mick who got a spear through his head, then poor old Jonny who died from a fever. If I am to go in these games, I want it to be done elaborately; decapitation always seems like a fun quick death…

Of course when I am committing the kill myself, I want it fun…but less quick. Death eventually comes to us all and nobody knows what happens after it. The only people that know, are the ones that are dead and well it seems they’re quite incapable of communicating with us…My belief is that it is likely like sleep, not internal darkness but the dreams that keep our minds busy when we’re resting our eyes. For the dreams that I have lived through in the past, I am very adamant that my belief is true for I am in for an exciting run.

”Yea, I'm Insanis Keeni, District Six of course,” Insanis…Insanis, his name closely resembles insane. Maybe his parents predicted his mentality from birth so named him after it. Or he was moulded to live by his given name or he might just be a simple type, with the wrong name to his head. Hopefully it is the better, for an insane companion in the arena would be much fun. We could work together to give these Capitolites the most brutal games they have ever seen. Eventually one of us will have to fall…I’ll give him a nice death.

Continuing to twiddle with the blade, I’d admire Insanis, his appearance flooding in emotions that I haven’t experience since stepping onto the train. Could the companionship that I want, turn into a romance? Although is there any point in the arena…but the Capitolites would love it. They’d be firing in sponsorship, just to keep us together. And well, I haven’t had fun with a male for a long while, with death likely ahead of me, there is no wrong in having a bit of fun in my maybe last hours…I don’t care if he doesn’t want to do it…I can always perform my tricks on him.

Smirking at my own thoughts, I’d march back into reality as Insanis asks me a question. ”Depends on what techniques you’re talking about…” The smirk would remain as I flash a wink at his direction, running my finger across the blood stained knife from the dummy’s wound. ”Yes fine…do you know how to throw one of these?” Raising the blade in the air, presenting it to him like a trophy.