67th Final Eight Highlight Reel Viewing {Cadence}

Eight.

That's all that was left in the arena. One third of the tributes who had been reaped. It was late afternoon, and Cadence found herself sipping a vanilla and mango milkshake. The thirty-two ounce variety. In between sips, she reminded herself to add an extra two hours to her workout regimen. She hadn't been this stressed out since being of schooling age. It had been decades since a Game-maker had been executed for incompetence, but Cadence knew that history had a way of repeating itself and did not want to get caught in that cycle. The games had picked up some and she knew there was no longer any danger of the games lasting for so long that the Capitol grew bored, but the deaths of two of the strongest careers in the same day had ruffled some important feathers.

Cadence hoped that didn't mean that she would have to watch her back. She glanced at the giant screen in the executive park, half watching an ad for Soap brand soap until the picture resolved itself to the grinning figures of the perennial games commentators.

"Welcome back to the sixty-seventh annual hunger games, coming to you live from the Capitol, I’m Caeser Flickerman and to my left is Claudius Templesmith! We are your hosts with the most! If you haven’t been paying attention, we’ve just made it to the final eight tributes in the arena. Very shortly we’ll be interviewing their friends and families, but first, one of my favorite parts of the games. The final eight highlight reel!”

Scenes of tributes fighting flashed across the screen in rapid succession, accompanied by uplifting music.

“Let’s start with the pair from eleven shall we?”

Rotating 3-D headshots of the tributes appeared, framed by rows of their stats. “It’s rare that district eleven manages to churn out any tributes that make it past the bloodbath.” A shot of Kiara Mason killing the stegosaurus in the sixtieth hunger games appeared behind them. “But this year...” Shot of Ingrid Elwyn lashing Cystine Crystal to the ground. Shot of Ingrid looting Nocturne Vargas’s body.. Shot of a spear being pulled out of Aelia Vanderwell as the district seven tribute choked to death on her own blood. “Three kills from our district eleven female tribute. Amazing isn’t it? And yet she seems to have kept her cool so far.” This was punctuated by a gratuitous close-up of Ingrid pulling a hat over her head. Claudius nodded in agreement before adding his two cents.

“Yes, but I must admit it came as a greater surprise to me when Potato managed to kill a second career in about well, a second! And even bigger than that was the remaining members of the career alliance getting wiped out in one day. I imagine that our career mentors will be partying a little less next year and focus more on actual training.” Cadence blinked at that. It sounded almost like a veiled threat.“What do you think, actual skill or blind luck?" Caeser shrugged. "This is eleven we’re talking about. I daresay he didn’t learn how to that by cutting vegetables in his home district. Blind luck. Has to be.” A shot of Tiger Chautin’s head spinning through the air, followed by Potato jamming his blade straight through a shocked Jem Morgan’s chest in slow motion. “Unexpected. All of it.” Claudius nodded slowly. "Don't forget about the rumors, Caesar. The ones that claim this tribute is heavily involved with one of our existing victors?" An image of a ring spinning in mid-air briefly appeared on the backdrop as Caesar answered. "Ah yes, I'd say her name rhymes with oval poor, but I'm not quite sure what her last name is now."

Claudius nodded and proceeded to change the subject. “Speaking of the unexpected, what do you think about district eight’s remaining tribute?" Tiger’s head was replaced by Owen throwing knife after knife at May Rhodes in the poorly lit silver mine. “Another unexpected tribute, given district eight’s usual placements. He’s got one kill under his belt, ending district nine’s chances at a repeat victory this year."Caesar half-frowned. “Still, says a lot about Colgate to get a tribute so far, given how fast his district is usually knocked out of the competition.”

Owen’s face was quickly replaced by that of the district six girl as Caesar continued.“Now, Sonja’s been brought close to the brink of death several times now but somehow, manages to keep plugging along in spite of not managing any kills. Amazingly, she and the district eleven tributes, with whom she allied with after the bloodbath, have all managed to survive this long. I doubt that will last much longer. They might very well be each others biggest threat. But tell me something Claudius, is it just me, or do the tributes from that district tend to be a little off their rocker?” Templesmith shrugged. “Must be something in the water.”

Sonja faded from the wall behind the two commentators, replaced with a pale haired boy. Claudius was the first to speak. "Let’s talk about Erebus next shall we? Lethe Turner’s brother. It’s rare that the sibling of a victor finds their way into the arena; I believe the last one was Elon Emberstatt, six years ago. Do you think his sisters training accounts for his survival?" Video of the fifty-eighth finale played, showing a bloody Lethe Turner standing over the prone form of Razor Creel. Caesar watched it for a bit before answering. “Like his sister, he’s done a good job of blundering his way through every fight; and they’ve taken their toll on him. To be fair, he doesn’t have a career to protect him, or a blind girl to soak up the damage. If anything, he’s been following in his sister’s footsteps when it comes to losing body parts." Claudius grinned. “Shouldn’t that be footstep?” Caesar cocked his head to the side for a moment as he processed the pun and burst out laughing. “Why yes, I suppose it should.”

The Turner siblings faded to black as two other tributes came into view."Do you think this might be district four’s year?" Flickerman asked with genuine curiosity. “Hard to say Caesar, hard to say. District four has made it to the finale in many games but never manages to secure that win. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride." The female tribute appeared by herself, fighting a plethora of mutts. "Siren’s certainly living up to her name, having captivated many a man in the capitol judging by the amount of items she’s been sponsored throughout the course of the games. Time will tell if that helps her or not."

"And how about the dashing Leon Krigal?” Caesar practically yelped at the audience. The screen showed him sinking his knife into the head of the district seven male, Gavin Barker. "Quite a feat considering his missing limb. But I’m sure that Mr. Bowers-Fox wouldn’t mind giving him a hand.”

“Or Ms.Baitwell for that matter.”  Claudius added. They slapped each other on the back at that. "He’s a heartbreaker that one, and has definitely gained a following."

Finally, the screen lit up with Charlotte Brownings stats and live footage of her flailing against a pair of mutts. “Someone should tell that vulture that Charlotte isn’t dead yet.” Caesar mused. "Ah, but that’s not a vulture my dear flickerman. It’s a specialized breed of bird combining characteristics from ravens, vultures, condors, and crows. A Vraven. You see the- Oh, never mind, its dead now. Interesting turn of events. Generally, when a career is left out of the career pack they don’t last long, and yet she’s managed to outlast the whole lot of them. The screen showed Leon helping the district one girl away from the fight. “How nice of him. Final eight folks! This games day has certainly been a step up from the last few in terms of excitement.” The pair nodded sagely at each other before Flickerman talked again.

“Biggest upset?” Claudius adopted a thoughtful look. “Well Caesar, I would have to go with the elimination of Dan Johnwayne. It’s rare that a tribute exudes cool to his degree. There were disappointed people in the capitol concerning that for certain. But I expect even a tribute like that would have had trouble against the Scorpion King! Now there’s a mutt you don’t want to see under your bed at night.“

The final camera shots panned through the giant scorpion snapping off limbs in rapid succession before ending on the mutt rearing back on it’s back pairs of legs.

"We can only wait to see what the next day will bring. I have a feeling we’ll soon be discussing potential victors. Once again, I’m Caeser Flickerman, and this is Claudius Templesmith. See you next time everybody!”

Cadence pulled out a portable computer and sighed into her milkshake. Those babbling buffoons certainly knew how to turn the most concise explanations into hours of air time.

Tapping her computer, she brought up headshots of the eight remaining tributes.

In a few days, one of them would be crowned.

To the people of Panem, they’d be a victor.

To the capitol, another potential pawn.

To her Co-Head Gamemaker, a plaything or an annoyance.

But to Cadence herself?

Nothing.

At least not yet.

"I don’t know which one of you will survive the arena that I and Glamour are running," she thought quietly to herself.

"But I promise you this. Disappoint me, and you’ll wish your face had lit up the sky."