Text Size Large SizeMedium SizeSmall Size    Color Scheme Black SchemeWhite SchemeGrey SchemePaper Scheme        

Bloody Capitol

bloodycapitol_banner Hundreds of years into the future, the Cullens live in Panem, a country that lies in the ruins of North America. The poverty-ridden nation is ruled under the iron fist of the Capitol, a ruthless group of dictators, who force the citizens to compete in the Hunger Games. To show the people if they revolt again, they will be crushed.But what truly caused the war? The humans think they know- but do they really? Guilt-ridden and miserable, Jasper volunteers for the games. But he's not the only supernatural being out there... there are others that have withstood the sands of time. Crossover between Suzanne Collins' Hunger Games and Twilight. Contains spoilers.


3. Chapter 3

Rating 5/5   Word Count 815   Review this Chapter

I sat next to Haymitch during dinner. I fought to keep from holding my nose.

An avox came in and placed several platters heaping with food. I eyed it warily. How would I pull this off?

“Don’t eat too fast.” Katniss warned, mistaking my look for greed. “I remember my first capitol meal- it was so rich, I couldn’t keep it down.”

That was a relief. I piled some rice and candied carrots onto my plate and chose a huge slab of meat. It wouldn’t be thought odd when my body rejected it all this evening.

Cressant came in wearing freshly pressed clothes. She sat down across from me and stabbed a piece of meat, her thick black hair falling into her eyes. “Where’s Effie?”

I looked around. I hadn’t noticed she was gone. That was fine with me- too glum.

“Some business came up. She’ll be meeting us at the Capitol.”

Cressant nodded. “So when do we start training?” I could feel the determination emanating from her. This girl really wanted to win.

Haymitch belched, then looked the tow of us up and down. “You look sturdy. Thank the Gods; I don’t know what I would’ve done with the little shrimp, before you volunteered.” He took a swig of wine. “This’ll be another good year. I can feel it. I mean, we haven’t had such good tributes since Katniss and Peeta.”

They looked at each other, then looked at us.

“I won’t pretend to love her.” I said bluntly.

Peeta flushed pink and Katniss glared at me.

Cressant watched awkwardly and shoved a potato into her mouth.

Haymitch picked up the bottle and sloshed more wine into his cup. “Get a good night’s sleep, and lots of food- you don’t know how much more you’ll get. We’ll meet tomorrow after breakfast.”


The girl was surprisingly strong. She lifted the weights with ease and buried the head of an axe deep in the chest of a training dummy. I sat in a corner and watched, afraid of exposing myself.

I approached Cressant at lunch.

“Where did you learn to do… that?”

She grunted. “What did you think I was? Some kind of daffodil?”

“No. I…”

“My family works as smiths.” She interrupted. “Because of the coal industry, District 1 sends us metal so we can shape it and send it to District 3. We have these huge coal furnaces… not that you would know anything about mining.” She looked at my hands; nails perfectly shaped, skin clean and unblemished. “My dad works in the mine most of the time, so my brother would do the metalwork, until he turned 18 and was sent to the coalmines. He would come home to work the furnaces on weekends. But then there was an…” she faltered. “Accident. In the mine. A-and he…”

I placed a hand on her shoulder. “I understand.”

She pushed me away. “No! That’s the thing. You don’t understand. You’re just some kind of pretty-boy, from a rich family. I haven’t even seen you in the streets. You just live in your house like you’re better than everyone else- like you’re too good to associate with us common folks. You act like some kind of Capitol-bred scum! ”`

She wasn’t wrong there. We would’ve still been in the Capitol if it wasn’t for the war…

Cressant was screaming at me now. “Why are you even here? Huh? For fame? Glory? ”

“Why are you here?”

She blinked at me. “What?”

“I know how badly you want to win. Why?”

She sighed. “When my brother passed away, it became my responsibility to support the family – my mom was busy with the baby. I lifted bags of coal, hammered metal. I became stocky, sooty. Girls at school looked at me like I was a freak. I mean, who ever heard of a female blacksmith?” She paused. “I don’t know. I guess – well, if I get through this then we could live in peace. No more worrying about food, no more ridicule. Father wouldn’t have to risk his life in the mines anymore…”

“You’re not a freak.”

“Don’t try to comfort me.”

“Listen to me. There are bigger freaks out there. Things which you have never seen before. Some aren’t even human. You’re not a freak Cressant. It’s not worth risking your life over it.”

“Too late now.” She said, looking out the window.

I looked past her, where the sun rose high above the looming towers of the Capitol.