On Day 4, We Wear Black [Julian, Day 4]

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Julian sat high atop one of the many trees in the rainforest he found himself in upon entering the western tower. His knees were tucked close to his chest as he held himself, looking down for any sign of threat. He had of course already scouted the area, but one could never be sure in the arena. The gamemakers could be bored with him and sick mutts on him or worse at any moment. He was the “it” career of these Games and so far he had only managed to kill one tribute and a river bat, surely they were boring of him.

Eliana and Liliana flashed before his memories again as he slowly rocked himself back and forth. They had been the first two tributes he had seen since his first day in the arena, since the bloodbath… The solitude was wearing on him, yet he could find no company here. It was kill or be killed in this arena where no alliances could be held. He swallowed hard as he recalled how his glaive sliced across the girl of District 6, taking what little life she had left. The look in her eyes was one he would never forget. Mace was right, that girl was going to haunt him… Not just her, but anyone else to fall victim to his blades now. His whole life had been leading to these moments, to win these Games. Victory had always seemed so sweet as he watched the Games from the comfort of his family’s home in Victor’s Village. Life of the Hunger Games champions seemed glorious as they road in on the Victory Tour and as he lived off of his parents spoils. These Games were all he’d known.

Of course after Midas’s loss, his view had shifted slightly on the Games, but even then his desire to enter and to win had not been altered; only his motives had changed… changed to revenge. Yet here he was, five days now in and that revenge had yet to be exacted. The kill of the female tribute of District 4 had been stolen from him, but Shrol, the male of District 8 was still somewhere in the arena awaiting destruction. Julian’s gut wrenched at the thought of his next kill. The stunned eyes of Eliana Ledessa gave him a moment of pause. Julian grit his teeth in frustration as tears welled up in his eyes.

Since making that first human kill and finally sufficing his bloodlust, the Games didn’t seem quite right anymore. How could people be watching this for pleasure? Worst of all was the feeling of utter alone-ness in this odd Quell arena. Did the gamemakers know what effect this no alliance twist would have on the morale of the tributes? How clever of them… This was not turning out to be nearly as glamorous an event as Julian had imagined for so much of his life.

Well regardless of the glamour or lack there of, Julian was not about to give up. If it was a fight the gamemakers wanted, he would be sure to deliver, and to survive. Down to the final eight now, his will to survive pumped adrenaline back through his veins. He may be stunned by his reaction to his kill, but now was not even a time to dwell on such things. With no alliances, he had no choice but to attack and destroy any tribute on site. He had the rest of his life to worry about how those faces would haunt him as Mace warned. It doesn’t matter anyway