Equestria: The Hunger Games

by Shukawarioserfi

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Discord, Crossover, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Sad, Original Character
Length: 8519

In a Post-Apocalyptic Equestria, ponies fight to the death in this crossover of the hunger games.

Keeping the peace in Equestria has been getting progressively harder over the years. As ponies broke free from their ignorance and rebelled, war ravaged Equestria. Amidst all the chaos Discord took control of Canterlot and now rules as dictator of a post-apocalyptic Equestria. Who else would think it would be so chaotically amusing, to watch ponies die horribly? Story is of First Person mixed POV, with only two of the OCs being mine.

Published 2014-11-29 02:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-01-12 06:05:31 UTC

Choosing Ceremony: Salene Darkeye's POV

I'm getting progressively anxious at the coming choosing ceremony. I can't get my head straight with the thought of being chosen for the games. I let frustration boil inside me, before bursting in tears.

"Sweetie." Said my mother, reassuring. "It's going to be alright." I don't believe her, not even a little. I've had premonitions that this would happen, that I would be chosen. They've been all to real for me to dismiss.

"It's not going to be alright." I snap. "You couldn't possibly think anything could be alright- with what the peacekeepers did to you." My mother Lumina was shot by the peacekeepers, leaving her sightless.

"My eyes were expendable, but my life essence is still here. The only thing I regret is not being able to see you anymore." Lumina adds, with a tear in her eye. "Even though you've grown." When my mother had her sight, she often made comments on how beautiful my mane was. My mane was the color of deoxygenated blood, my eyes were a shining purple. The black and white stripes on my coat often make me mistaken for a zebra, even though Zebras are uncommon in District 12.

"Mom." I smile just a little. "You're life is important to me as well, and with how easily people get killed around here. I'm worried for my own safety." I'm not really worried. I believe I can survive, I believe I have the will to survive. The problem is that the ultimate fate of death is not always in your hands. I don't trust anyone else outside of my own family. I used to be nice to everyone, but for now I have to have my guard up at all times. Nopony is safe around me. You cross me in the games and you'll be sorry.

"Okay, dear. Go now, you don't want to have to be forced out later." My mother says, before kissing me on my forehead. It was a warm and loving gesture, maybe if more ponies were loved then things wouldn't have to be this way. I nod and walk out of our makeshift "home" shivering. It's not home, nowhere is home. Nowhere is home under Marshall Law. There are only dwellings. I dimly walk towards the crowd, as I have no choice. You walk against the crowd and you get shot. So I have no choice but to be culled.

I fight the feeling in my stomach telling me to vomit. I can't possibly vomit now, vomiting after not eating for two days would only do nothing but harm. I stare blankly at the marble pillars of the large buildings around where the crowd stands. My eyes shift to the rubble and debris lining the streets as I cough from all the coal dust in the air.

"Welcome, citizens of District 12." I freeze. The tributes are about to be announced, I wouldn't have been as scared if the voice wasn't exactly as I remember in my premonitions. The unicorn pony continues her ramblings, being surrounded by peacekeepers. All of us are at gunpoint. The announcer looks timid, a white coat dawned with capitol clothing. Violet eyes and a flowing mane. I have a nagging feeling that she doesn't belong in this position.

"The tributes are..." I close my eyes, as if that will help. "Anvil Strike." I breathe a sigh of relief, before again realizing that I could still get called. The colt walks up to the stands in decent shape. If he was nervous I wouldn't believe him, his charcoal mane is not standing on end and his bright green eyes have the look of determination. If I have to fight more ponies like this, I'm screwed. I stare again at the announcer, and wait for what seems like an eternity before the next name gets called.

"Selune Darkeye." I mumble before three peacekeepers quickly urge me forward. I try and look as dignified as the stallion, but to no avail. I give him a quizzical look as I get taken to the stands, as if to say "Cut the act." I assume he's acting, and he's much more scared than I am. Or at least, I hope.

"Now, these are our tributes for District 12. Let your days be filled with peace and harmony." Says the timid white mare. I almost lunge at her. Thankfully my instincts tell me that's a bad idea. The mare's cutie mark is the sun, but all I see is darkness. Although I am sure that she does want peace and harmony, unfortunately Equestria is a long way from that. I space out for a moment, and a few minutes later I am in a dimly lit room.

I see my dad. I squeal in delight before coughing to regain my sanity. "Dad?" I haven't seen my dad Azure Melody all day since he's been working. But I am incredibly glad I get to see him before I go, possibly for good.

"Don't be causing mischief." He smiles. "Be good for the peacekeepers, okay?" I turn to my mom and quickly run up to hug her.

"Mom. I don't want to leave." I'm fighting tears at this point, but they refuse to yield.

"You'll be back okay, I believe in you." She says, keeping me in the warm embrace of your hooves. "I just wish I could see you go." The peacekeepers break up our hug, I growl.

"What do you think you're doing?" I bark. None of them respond as they carry me away. I can't run away now, if I run they'll shoot. I must participate. I must win.

The Train: Plum Rose's POV

After the daze of the ceremony of choosing wore down I finally managed to fall asleep on the train. I'm exercising my right for beauty sleep when I am hastily wakened. "Grr... What is it?" I snap. I need to die down my nervous energy somehow, and sleep seemed like the way to go. I was wakened by a white pony with a black mane and piercing red eyes.

"Are you gonna sleep through the games too? Might as well be alive while you can." He said. I was not amused.

"When was the last time you slept?" I bark. Seriously, this pony could've used a shower as well. I'm surprised they even let him on this train. He looked at me angrily, maybe he can read thoughts. I cower just a little.

"Sleep evades me these days. I can't explain it. I'm Crystal by the way." He extended a hoof in greeting. I did not accept.

"Plum Rose." I mumble in a quiet derisive tone. I stare down at his cutie mark revealing crossed swords. "What's your 411?" Crystal coughed.

"Excuse me?"

"You know." I say, rolling my eyes. "Your talent." He bends over and stares at his flank, as if he didn't already know.

"Melee." He grinned. "It's a shame I had to go against so many untrained fighters in the games. They had no chance." He was a victor, I guess that explains a lot. He's cocky, arrogant and smells like fish. Anypony else would've mistaken him for a wanderer. I shake my head.

"Well what are you looking at me for?" I must say, he does have a lot to look at. My wings are fantastic, my pink and teal mane falls perfectly straight and my aqua coat would make anypony swoon for me.

"I'm here to help you. Not that I'm too thrilled about it. Come with me to the nearest sidecar." I raise my eyebrow, not too happy about being directed. I follow anyway, huffing madly as I go along. Really the whole train is atrocious, it's old and damaged and I can hear it squeal desperately on the tracks. So much for comfort.

"Now, don't be a sour pus." Crystal says, looking back as we enter a venue with a smorgasbord of entrees. My mouth waters. "I'm sure a little food will cheer you up. You surely must be starving." I didn't want to admit it, but the food was definitely hard to resist. If I knew it was poisoned, I swear I would eat it anyway.

"I could eat I guess." I scoff with decency. "I mean, I hate to be reduced to such a tantalizing assortment of offerings mostly given with an emphasis of pity." Crystal raises an eyebrow.

"So you don't want any then, Plum Rose?"

Before he could finish his sentence I was already muzzle deep in pasta. I stick my head out of my food nervously. "On the contrary, I must oblige." I smile, with more of a collection of food on my face than my plate.

"I'm glad you like it then." Crystal adds, sitting across from me. He doesn't take any food, but I'm sure he can eat whenever he wants. Despite that, he had a handsome figure with chiseled bone structure. If I wasn't drooling over the food, I would be drooling over him. We don't look to have that much of an age difference, he looks like a young full grown stallion. I'm 15 and given lengthening of days, we might have a chance.

"I assure you." I add, with food in my mouth, appalled by my own insolence. "That there is a difference between gluttony and eating to appease the body's natural response to hunger." Crystal frowns.

"You talk too much, eat." I attributed his response to mean that pigging out was okay. I don't even think I was consciously aware of a lot of the things I had eaten. My body was in autopilot so to speak, glad to have eaten after so long. I finish with all the food sitting uneasily in my stomach.

"Was this part of the training?" I hiccup.

"No. But this was necessary so your body could fuel up and stopped running on reserve energy." Crystal says. "What you want to know is how to win." I lean forward, intrigued.

"Is there a shortcut?" I ask frantically. "Cheats, escapes, loopholes, outlets, technicalities?" With my body finally having energy, my ADHD seems to kick in immediately.

"Calm down." Crystal snaps. "You're just listing synonyms. And no, there is no easy way out of the games." No easy way out. This will easily be either the hardest or the last thing I do in my life. I'm as afraid of death as anypony, and I have serious doubts in my ability to win.

"You're not going to die if you get sponsors." He explains. "If you can make all the ponies love you, you'll win."

"That's easy, everypony loves me." I retort. I'm great to look at and I'm simply better than everypony, so what's not to love?

"Not if you act like a stuck-up mule." Crystal adds angrily.

"I am insulted by your use of language." Okay, maybe I deserved that comment. But, hey if I don't bring myself up than nopony will. If I can reflect on my positive attributes, albeit with a little bragging, I can make everypony else feel inferior. And that makes me better than everypony else.

"Still, that attitude will get you no sponsors." Crystal says. "You have to distance yourself as far from yourself as you can. Do you understand?"

"I have to be somepony else?" I sneer. "As if."

"Not somepony else entirely, but a protaganist." Crystal explains. "You have to give the ponies something to root for."

I sigh, I need a miracle to make this happen. I must be stunning, captivating, and *gulps* nice. Okay, it won't be that hard. I just have to believe in myself that I can do this. Before everything fades into black.

Canterlot: Shift's POV

A changeling in the hunger games, no two changelings in the hunger games. All of Equestria was baffled when two changelings were chosen at the Reaping. Me and Chitter are practically siblings. All changelings share a certain brotherly bond to begin with, and we are all of the same mother. Most changelings have died out after the tragic incident that killed the queen.

Our queen had no authority over us to begin with, and any changeling that referred to our mother as queen was shot down and killed. Too many of the ponies in Equestria desire to see changelings exterminated, and it will take a lot of convincing to show the ponies that we deserve to be rooted for.

When we came in to The Capital, and I waved to everyone outside the window of our train. We were greeted with spitting and obscenities by everypony. I just hope that we receive fair treatment in these games. Just because we're not ponies, doesn't mean we deserve to die.

Chitter and I trot carefully out of the train with our heads low, and are quickly greeted by our stylist. "Hello, dearest changelings. I'm very excited to be working with you."

I smile sincerely at the pale green mare before us. Chitter cowers behind me. "I'm Shift, and this is Chitter." I say looking up at the mare. "I'm sorry about her, she's very nervous." The mare smiles nervously, offering a hoof to Chitter.

"Hello, I'm Red Raven." she says kindly. "I'm going to make you beautiful." Chitter smiles.

"You mean it?" She chirps happily.

"I'm actually an expert on changelings." Red Raven smirks confidently. "I share a love of them that is often frowned upon by pony folk. In fact a grew up in your District."

I nod affirmatively at her response to Chitter. Red Raven's scarlet mane and blue eyes calm me slightly, it's nice to have some help from a pony that doesn't hate us. "Your interest in Changelings is baffling Red Raven, but unless you're a miracle worker it's going to be next to impossible to make us liked by anypony."

"I am a miracle worker." Red Raven smiles. "Just follow me and I'll apply the right touch."

I follow after her, with Chitter skipping ahead of me. She seems more confident than usual, and I'm grateful for that. The streets of the capital are white streaking with crystal glowing a brilliant aquamarine. The building ahead of us is just as captivating, with bright red fixtures and windowsills of pure gold, accompanied by long transparent glass windows letting sunlight pass through errantly. As brilliant as the outside of the building is, the white tiles on the floor and pink walls are much less captivating.

"This is the salon, have a sit." She motions to an uncomfortable looking chair with a hair dryer. She's not touching my cyan mane. Chitter sits down immediately in the chair next to me while I stand awkwardly. I'm not as thrilled to be getting a makeover.

Red Raven's kind demeanor changes quickly. "Sit." She hisses. I obey, not thrilled at her tone. "Now what you need at the parade is to be vibrant. Noticeable. The dark black exoskeleton of a changeling won't do." She rummages through her beauty supplies pulling out something that seems rather strange to me- gold body paint.

"What is that?" I ask.

"Don't worry this is perfectly safe for use on changelings, and you can wash it out right after the tribute parade." Red Raven adds. "Well, hopefully." I cringe. She applies the paint, despite my body jerking in protest. "Hold still, please." I growl slightly and comply.

Chitter looks to me blinking incessantly. She doesn't seem to be in dread of this, she seems eager. "Okay now." Red Raven says, levitating a small mirror in from of my face. I'm gleaming so much that I have to squint.

"It's great." I lie. "Everypony will love us." No, everypony will be blinded to death. Chitter chirps happily as Red Raven begins to apply the gold body paint on her.

"What about the dress?" Chitter asks.

"Oh I have something special in mind." Red Raven grins. I hear her chuckle lowly under her breath. What's she hiding? I feel like she means well but she might be too excited about making us look good. I really wish she'd dial it down a notch or two. "Okay you're all set. Now it's time for the apparel, I have something for the both of you." She smiles, leading us out into another room, this one's quiet and cramped full of outfits- mostly feminine. I growl in protest.

"Please tell me you are not planning on sticking me in a dress." I protest. Red Raven laughs, more audibly this time.

"Are you familiar with the psychic abilities of changelings?" She asked, still not answering my question.

"Somewhat yes." I know that changelings use their psychic abilities to feed on other peoples emotion. Changelings also have the ability to infect ponies to make them more compliant, but any changeling caught using that ability will be killed by peacemakers. I still don't know if I'm wearing a dress or not.

"This pink dress has magic that will amplify a changelings ability of infection." She smiles, maliciously. "You want everypony to love you, you have to force them." A dress, there goes my stallionhood.

"The dress is for Chitter right? You have something else for me don't you." I plead.

"No, I have two of these dresses so you'll have to swallow your pride and wear it." Red Raven barks. I hiss again at her tone. I'd rather go naked. And how is that going to help you're pride? I put on the dress, reluctantly. Chitter smiles as she puts hers on in front of me.

"How do we activate the magic." I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Focus your energy on the crowd." She says. "Once you have their attention, start giving them suggestions. The magic will project your infection on the entire audience."

"Isn't that cheating?"

"Do you want to win?" I nod.

The Parade: Chitter's POV

I stand here with Shift waiting to go on in the parade. 10 districts are to go before us. My blue eyes stare at the monitor behind the scenes as the parade begins. "It's time for the Tribute Parade, starting with District 1..." My eyes roll at the yellow orange colt with green hair spouting bombastic nonsense until finally the camera finally shifts to the District 1 tributes; Arctic Blast and Columbine Flucie, dressed in the finest of sapphires and rubies. Spoiled rich ponies, their district makes all the luxury items for the capital.

I turn to Shift. "Are the tributes in District 1 wearing real gemstones?" Shift nods.

"Yeah, they win the games almost every year." Shift responds. "Arctic Blast seems like a rather young colt, likely first year eligible. The mare is a lot older and looks tough as nails but I find it hard to believe that she doesn't have a weakness." I turn back to the television.

"Wow." a voice comes from the television. "The tributes have done a very good job of representing their district with their costumes... here comes district 2 now."

I scratch my head with my hoof. "What do you know about District 2?"

"They're trained better than any other district... and then they volunteer." Shift chirps. "They're tougher than district one but not as intelligent." My eyes drift again to the screen on camera with the next tributes, an Iridescent female pegasus and a red and white pegasus male.

"Now look at these tributes Prism and Hurricane  dressed as peacekeepers, celebrating the enforcement of the law." I almost throw up at that one. Who in there right mind would dress up like them? They scare me to shreds.

"Why would anypony in their right mind dress like that?" I exclaim. Shift shrugs.

"Peacekeepers are very popular in the capital and district two is where they're trained."

After seeing the peacekeepers murder hundreds of changelings I despise them. They make ponies afraid, and then kill them. I'm tired of them, they're only instruments of war, not of peace. "I'm going after them first, nopony that dresses as a peacekeeper gets on my good side." Shift smiles and ruffles my mane.

"That's the spirit." Shift chirps

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that to my mane." I sigh.

"What? I've never seen you be that confident about killing somepony. Don't get bloodlust though." He smiles.

"I'll try my best." I laugh just a little. Shift always puts me in good spirits.

"...Now for District five's tributes Starlight Comet and Coconut Swirl." I hear as I zone back into the program.

"What's your knowledge on District 5?" I ask Shift.

"They supply the electricity to all the districts." He responds. I catch a glimpse at the tributes wearing electrically charged outfits, shocking themselves so much that Coconut Swirl falls down in her float. I can't help but laugh a little.

"I think they overdid it a little with representing their district." Shift says laughing with me.

"...Please stand by while we tend to the injured tributes." The tv chimes in.

"At least somepony messed up." I add. I'm grateful and at the same time nervous that the parade is stalled. After trying to collect my thoughts for a few minutes, the tributes move on, seeming to be okay. "Why do we have to be next to last?" I say, squirming.

"They do all the districts in numerical order." Shift says compassionately. "Don't focus on how long it will be before we go on."

"After all..." A tear begins to flow down my face. "Time is precious when you're about to die."

"Don't say that. Don't think about dying it only makes it worse. Who knows? Maybe you'll get to see all your dead changeling friends again..."

"No!" I interrupt. "I'm going to win." Shift smiles.

"We'll be allies 'til the end."

"But what if we're the last two left?" I ask nervously.

"I'll stab myself in the heart." Shift says quietly.

I nod at Shift trying to hold back more tears when the tributes for district 8 are announced. "Next we have Midnight Dreams and Sonic Aura."

I stare at the television. "Are they wearing... plaid?"

"Their district is textiles. Mostly factories and warehouses, not very glamourous." Shift replies. "Two more before we go on. Be ready." I nod.

"And now here comes district 9 with Ill Omen and volunteer Posetem Weave. What do you think of them?" The colt on the television asks his fellow announcer. "Well a mare volunteering from this district is very unusual I'd keep a good eye on her."

"A volunteer from district nine." Shift scratches his head with his hoof. "Must be crazy. All they do is harvest grain. They have no training."

"Well." I stare at the tribute's straw outfit through the television, probably representing grain. "Maybe she has been training some. We don't know how she is, best we stay away from her."

"It's best to stay away from everypony." Shift says harshly. "If you seek out conflict before or during the games it only increases the odds of being killed."

"Now Cyclone the hulking hippogriff and Blue Ice from district 10." The tv blares.

"Wait." I say alarmed. "Did he just say hippogriff? That's not even a pony how did he get chosen?"

Shift clears his throat to respond and flaps his insect wings. "May I remind you that we're not exactly ponies either."

Red Raven comes over to greet us. "Okay. You guys are up next. Time to hop in your parade floats. Remember the plan." I carefully board our float, Shift following. I stare at the tv as we begin to make our way out in front of a hundred thousand ponies."

"...Oh and the float is destroyed. It looks like they didn't factor in Cyclone's weight." I chuckle as we move across out of the backstage into the road for the parade. I try not to stare at the audience until Shift whispers to me.

"Focus heavily on the audience and use our spell like Red Raven said. Make them never forget us." Shift says determined as his eyes begin to glow a dull green used when infecting ponies, his dress begins to glow green as well. I try to find my composure, looking at the audience is the last thing I want to do right now. I shift my eyes to my side of the audience, focusing my changeling power of suggestion. You love us. You'll never forget us.

Right now I can't tell if the ponies in the audience are sick or it worked. It seems that they have all fallen under our spell, including the announcers. "Wow. These tribute's costumes are amazing I would never think that the gold finishing would make them seem so colorful. Their dresses are mesmerizing as well. Truly the best showing by a tribute so far." I smile.

"We did it." I say. Shift shakes his head.

"Not yet. It's not over until you win."

I nod.

The Dinner: LawWing's POV

I'm grateful to get my heavy clothes off after the parade, (not to be naked, but to put something lighter). The outfits my arrogant stylist made me and Swifty Sketch wear looked like space suits. I was very overheated during the entire thing, my body temperature likely raised 2 degrees celsius above normal. I was afraid I would pass out. That would've made quite a scene, and while I'd be grateful for the attention it would not be of the variety that I like.

"Hello, I'm sure you're eager for some refreshment before your training tomorrow." Says, a lavender pony smiling. Me and Swifty Sketch nod as we begin to follow her up to the rooms that the Capital has provided us during our stay. "Oh Discord the food is outstanding you have got to try..." I'm usually a good listener but this pony's ramblings are getting the better of me. Nothing she is saying is even making a lick of sense. As we enter the dining hall, I find myself greeted with the mentor for District 3, Ender. I sit down grudgingly next to him. He hands me a glass of water.

"Thank you." I call. I chug the water down gladly. "I still feel a little hyperthermic."

"You're a depraved oversensitive lunatic." Swifty Sketch teases. "Those suits were not that hot." I dig my fork into my veal and ignore her comment. I try to remember if ponies even eat this stuff, then I shrug. "Well aren't you going to say something Law School?" I stand up to assert my dominance, challenging the mare. Ender clears his throat preparing for a response.

"In the games, bickering is suicide. Arguing of any kind is suicide. The biggest way to end an argument is to kill whatever pony you're debating with." Ender responds, staring into his silverware. "So... GET ALONG" He growls. I sit down, I can't continue to be feral and must stay civilized as long as possible until the games begin. When the games begin, I'll become wild.

Ender adjusts his purple glasses and rubs his black hair with veal fat. "You foals have best eat what's on your plate and get to bed. Big day tomorrow, you must train well if you want to do good on your evaluations." He cackles, digging his spoon into marmalade and eating it in such a way that I wish to not describe.

"And THIS is our insane mentor." I lean over and whisper to Swifty Sketch, she laughs.

"Hey!" Ender barks.

"At least we're getting along. That counts for something." I say. I get out a sheet of parchment kept in my vest pocket. "Why don't we sign a peace treaty. And agree not to kill eachother." I turn to Swifty Sketch. The legally binding document in question, is an armistice. She signs and she agrees to cease conflict, and certain other terms written in big words and small font that I expect the 13 year old mare not to care about. I watch her skim through the longly worded document in about 5 seconds, before signing it. I smile.

"I'll remind you of the terms if you fail to comply." I say, carefully instructing her. I turn to her drawing something on her napkin, holding her pencil with her mouth. "Are you listening?"

"Yeah, uh huh." She says, eyes still on her paper.

"Give me that." I growl. I look at the napkin which reveals a drawing of me with my mouth open and eyes crossed, affectionally labeled 'He never stops talking.' I crumple it up and throw it at the ground. "I think that violates our agreement."

Swifty Sketch turns her head. "What? It's not like I stabbed you or anything."

"Oh that can be arranged." I say, dramatically holding a steak knife to my chest before Ender takes it away.

"No dying until the games start." Ender says.

The purple mare from earlier, who oddly enough hasn't talked since we sat down is staring at me. "Well. Say something." I say. Ender glares at her, she nearly hurls but begins to talk.

"That was so dramatic." She says, giddily. "You will be perfect to watch during the games." It was a joke, I'm not thespian. That being said I really liked her better when she wasn't talking.

"What did I say about you talking?" Ender yells. "I think that violates our agreement."

"Our agreement is verbal and not legally binding." The mare says, sticking her tongue out.

I stare at Swifty Sketch from across the table as she tries to cover up her laughter. "Well I'm long finished with my meal and it looks like the annoying mare is talking again I'm going to excuse myself." I say with remorse as I walk away.

"Excuse me, my name is Written Fable." She yells back at me. I turn my head and smile.

"Sorry, my manners. I'm LawWing." I bow. "May I please be excused?"

"You may." She huffs.

"Hey Swift." I ask. "You going to bed soon? You've got to be rested for training tomorrow."

"Actually I'm too excited about meeting new tributes." She jumps up. I raise my eyebrow.

"You're excited to meet the people who want to kill you." I question.

"No, really the more I gain their trust the less likely I am to die." She says, twiddling her pencil. "It's all I can hope for at this point." She puts her head down, I walk closer. I stare into her pink eyes and smile.

"You really shouldn't be afraid of dying, you should be afraid of living. When you die you have no fear. You're at peace." I say, touching her cerulean mane. She back off.

"Well I'm not giving up." She yells. I take a second to tend to my black and yellow mane, she stares. "You're doing your hair now?"

"Gotta stay sharp for your funeral. After all if I win you have to die." I smile.

"Now you're provoking conflict, isn't that against our agreement?" She asks.

"Actually no, our agreement prevents you from initiating or prolonging conflict." I explain. "It doesn't prevent me from provoking you. You really should read every sketchy legal contract before you sign it."

"Figures."

Evaluations: Moonlight Mist's POV

"Wake up."

"Huh?" I say, opening my eyes and rubbing them with my hooves to see who it is. It's a brown unicorn with a black mane. Tacitus, who traveled here with me from District 6.

"Training's hard." Says Tacitus, the other tribute from my district. "But we can't sleep the day off, evaluations are today." My eyes open wide.

"Today?" I exclaim, before lifting my head up and running out of bed. Let's see, a couple days of training, pathetic failure and being laughed at by my peers; I guess it's now time to get humiliated in front of the rest of the Capitol. This makes no sense to me. I get dressed quickly, as if I'm not just speeding up my execution.

"You just got dressed in front of me." Tacitus blushes. I raise an eyebrow and give an annoyed response.

"Really?" I complain. "I've been naked most of the time around you anyway." He shrugs.

"What is that, really?" He looks at me quizzically. What this is that I'm wearing, it's a distraction. Something from the makeup department. A warriors outfit, an uncomfortable suit of fur and leather. Maybe some ponies will be naive enough to give me a good score if I look like a deranged killer.

"Oh, it's just something I whipped up for the judges." I smirk.

"You'd be better off naked." He chuckles. I fight the urge to hit him. Instead I give a guttural yell and throw my iron helmet across the room. "Evaluations are not for hours, you don't want to wear that all day anyway."

"Don't tell me what I want." I grin before making my way down the stairs, before realizing that the sun is barely poking through the corridor windows. I give Tacitus an angry look as he follows behind me. "Why does it look like President Discord just raised the sun a few minutes ago?"

"Because it's 6:00." Tacitus says, unfazed. I sigh.

"I need coffee." I say, suddenly becoming tired now that I knew how early it was.

"Evaluations are at 11:00." Tacitus says "You really should thank me for waking you up to get a few more hours of training."

"Who made Coffee?" I say, looking to the coffee trough that's now filled with coffee. I  find it hard to stop myself from stuffing myself headfirst in the burning brew. I remember again of it's mysterious appearance, and then the thought of it maybe being poisoned, makes me hesitate.

I turn in shock as I hear footsteps. Another brown pony, an earth pony with an Orange Mane walks in. It's just our mentor Cannon Fire. He smiles.

"You know I was going to wake you up but Tacitus beat you too it." He laughs, before taking a cup full of coffee with his mouth and setting it on the table.  "Have some..." Before he could finish his sentence, Tacitus interrupts him.

"There's an interesting fact about Equestrian history that not many ponies know, Princess Celestia used to raise the sun and Princess Luna the moon, before the great war." He boasts. Cannon Fire puts a hoof to his face in frustration.

"Moonlight, get some coffee." He orders. "Tacitus, shut up." Tacitus nods disappointedly.

I quickly make my way to the mini coffee trough in our kitchen and use a spell to quickly find the tallest glass in the cabinet, and fill it gluttonously. "Honey?" I say, looking to Cannon Fire.

"What do you want sweetie?" Cannon Fire says lovingly. I glare at him.

"I mean do you have any honey?" I say, trying to put on and angry expression while holding my laughter. He nods.

"There's raw honey to your left." He winks. I levitate the honey into my coffee and guzzle it down, letting drops of coffee trickle down my muzzle.

"Moonlight let's go." Tacitus says, already by the door. I gulp down the rest of my coffee and give a hearty burp, one that would make my father proud. I run to the door before quickly stopping.

"And to be clear we are not going to hear one of your boring lectures on Equestrian History on the way there." I look at him, sealing my words.

"Done." He ponders for a moment. "What about old Equestrian Philosophy?"

"Say nothing." I smile. I make my way slowly to the training room which to my surprise is actually empty at this hour. "I guess waking up at 6:00 does pay off."

"Guess so." Tacitus stops and looks up to the window, onlookers are already present eating breakfast above us. "Whoa, do you see that?" He points. "They're already here."

I freeze and shiver in the corner. "I-I don't think I can do this." Tacitus kneels beside me and tries his best to comfort me as I have my panic attack.

"What if they watch you take me out?" He whispers. I shake my head.

"What?" I shake my head. "I can't do that."

"Come on." He smiles. "I got a big head, I could use a concussion." He looks around the room before spotting a metal pole. He points to it. "That right there... would be perfect. If they see you knock me unconscious, it will boost your score."

"I can't." I try to keep myself from crying. Tacitus shakes his head.

"Stand Tall." He puts his hooves on me and lifts me up, then before I know it, he starts to levitate the metal pole towards his body. The pole smacks him clean on the side of the head. He knocked himself unconscious. I gasp. The onlookers are staring at me. Before I can assess the situation, I give my best fake tough mare expression and yell.

"Yeah I hit him!" I say unintelligently. "And I'll do the same to the rest of them! They'll all be dead!" What is wrong with me. He did this to himself... why would I say something like that? Please, please, be worth it.

I take a glimpse at the scores later that evening.

Arctic Blast: 9 Columbine Flucie: 4

Hurricane Bash: 6 Prism: 7

LawWing: 7 Swifty Sketch: 5

Plum Rose: 5 Lightning Bolt: 8

Starlight Comet: 7 Coconut Swirl: 6

Tacitus: 3 Moonlight Mist: 10

Tragic Focus: 7 Monotone: 6

Midnight Dreams: 9 Sonic Aura: 7

Ill Omen: 9 Posetem Weave: 7

Cyclone: 10 Blue Ice: 9

Shift: 7 Chitter: 4

Selune Darkeye: 11 Anvil Strike: 7

I got a 10/12...

The Games: Tragic Focus's POV

I try to relax. Deep breath in, raspy breath out. I can't let my emotions cloud my judgement. I turn my eyes up to my mentor, Grey Scale, who's trying his best to comfort me.

"You have no idea what's waiting for you out there." He says. "I only have five minutes to give you good advice. Then you have to go out there." He motions to the tube leading up to the games. My possible execution. Five minutes of life is all I can be sure I have left.

"Then tell me, I want to make sure this isn't my last conversation." I try to give a smile but fail, quiet tears start rolling down my face.

"Run. Grab something. Don't just start brawling, you'll be dead with in minutes. Get what you need to survive and then get the heck out of there." He cautions. I nod feverishly.

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks." My head starts spinning and I'm getting disoriented. I try to collect my thoughts for a few seconds before Grey Scale starts to help me up.

"I'm sorry kid." He sighs. "It's time to go." I almost look for a place to run, before taking a deep breath and regaining my composure. The next few steps to the tube are excruciating. I enter and it closes immediately. I scream and bang on the glass, before going down on my knees. The tube rises.

The light at first is overwhelming. I stand on my hooves as my eyes start to adjust. I glance at all the tributes. The colt from my district Monotone, waves at me from a separate platform. His oddly casual demeanor doesn't make me any confident that he'll last very long. I really hope we can speak to eachother one more time before he dies.

10... 9... I start to panic. 8... 7... I look around to see where I'm supposed to go to grab the supplies. 6... 5... I look sharply at Monotone and point to the supply tent, hoping he follows me there. 4... 3... I crouch down on my hooves so I can get a running start. 2... 1... Buzzer sounds. Me and Monotone start running.

Me and Monotone are the first ones to the supply tent. Everyone else pauses for a second to try and figure out who they're going to kill. I quickly grab a bag of supplies. Monotone grabs a weapon. I swat it out of his hoof. "Are you crazy? No fighting let's go."

Just as everypony else starts to grab their weapons I grab Monotone's hoof and run out. I see Arctic Blast grab a sword and slice through Lightning Bolt's stomach behind me. One Down.

Right when I start to think we'll be okay I see Cyclone start to chase after us. The truly massive Hippogriff is very hard to miss out of the corner of your eye.

"I bet a weapon would be great now." Monotone says irritated, running.

"Shut up, we all know you wouldn't hurt a fly." I say, looking back at Cyclone as I'm running. Obviously, the problem with being so freakishly huge is that you're normally not very fast. We can outrun him.

The Hippogriff continues to snort and charge after us. Monotone looks back and stays frozen as Cyclone leaps for him with a long blade clasped between his hoof. Monotone closes his eyes before ducking, sliding and jerking his way out of the way as Cyclone takes a stab at the ground.

Monotone swings a hoof at Cyclone's jaw. He didn't flinch.

"Ow." Monotone whines. "That hurt. Run!" I almost start running before I see Cyclone grab Monotone by his neck and gasp.

"Don't try to hurt me pony." He grunts.

"No!" I yell, trying to get closer to Monotone. Cyclone points his long sword at me with his other hoof, keeping me from moving any further.

"Crushes are so fitting here." Cyclone smirks. "Because that's what I'm going to do to your little coltfriends neck." I can visibly see Monotone already struggling to breathe, a tear or two running down his cheek.

I break down into tears, wailing. "Don't. PLEASE DON'T." I start to yell.

Cyclone looks to me for a moment before releasing his grip on Monotone's neck, dropping him to the ground. "Fine. But don't expect any more favors from me. Be grateful you have somepony to love." He snarls. Almost as quickly as Cyclone appears, he runs off into the forest.

I hear a piercing scream that likely reverberated over miles. Somepony else is dead. The cannon of death sounds and the pictures of the fallen tributes light across the sky. Lightning Bolt. Columbine Flucie. Two down. Monotone looks like a nervous wreck, his eyes bulging and long scars visible across his neck.

He won't last a day.

I kiss him. "We've got to go. Whatever happened, there's a reason we're both still alive." I say quietly. "It'll be okay." Monotone nods.

"Yeah." He starts to smile. "I think everypony already else went deep into the forest. We can probably go back and get more supplies."

"Let's see what we already have so far..." I search through the supply bag I got earlier. "Mushrooms, a frying pan, and some matches." Without warning Monotone sticks his hoof in the supply bag and takes out the mushrooms. "What are you doing?" I snap.

"What?" He responds. His mouth full of mushroom. "They're dried mushrooms. Ready to eat."

I sigh. "I know I couldn't keep you from eating for very long." I hear rustling in the trees. My heart pounds. Monotone looks equally frightened. A couple of changelings peek out of the woods.

"Don't kill us!" They shriek in unison. I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Relax. We're not going to kill you." I say, laughing slightly. My laughter is quickly cut off by cannon fire. Plum Rose. Two tributes from district 4 are already dead. I shudder. "We can't stand in one place for too long, you guys found us, likely more ponies will find us if we stay. You two can come with us."

"Whoa." Monotone says. "Why is everything so red." He stumbles slightly.

"What are you on?" I ask jokingly. Those mushrooms must have been legit. But why would they pack drugs in our supply kits? To cloud our judgment?

Chitter steps closer to Monotone. I almost hit her. She seems to be absorbing energy off of him. "I haven't felt that emotion in awhile." She giggles. "He's higher than a wonderbolt."

"Can I have what he's having?" Says Starlight Comet, who I didn't know was standing there for the last eight minutes. Chitter shrieks and shoots a beam of yellow magic right at him. He falls to the ground. She gasps.

"Relax. Maybe you didn't kill him." I say nervously. Shift puts his hoof on him to check his pulse.

"He's not breathing." The cannon fires. Starlight Comet District 5. "What was that Chitter?" Shift yells.

"Sorry." She snivels. "Euphoria does some tricky things to my powers." She takes the bag of mushrooms. "I'm going to need these."

Fallen Tributes:

24th place: Lightning Bolt, District 4. Killed by Arctic Blast

23rd place: Columbine Flucie, District 1. Killed by Anvil Strike

22nd place: Plum Rose, District 4. Killed by LawWing

21st place: Starlight Comet, District 5. Killed by Chitter

Remaining Tributes:

Anvil Strike, District 12

Arctic Blast, District 1

Blue Ice, District 10

Chitter, District 11

Coconut Swirl, District 5

Cyclone, District 10

Hurricane Bash, District 2

Ill Omen, District 9

LawWing, District 3

Midnight Dreams, District 8

Monotone, District 7

Moonlight Mist, District 6

Posetem Weave, District 9

Prism, District 2

Selune Darkeye, District 12

Shift, District 11

Sonic Aura, District 8

Swifty Sketch, District 3

Tacitus, District 6

Tragic Focus, District 7

Training: Ill Omen's POV

I get out of bed. I'm escorted to the training room, my view shifts to the numerous weapons and targets around the room. I wouldn't be able to hit a lot of these from even a couple feet away.

"Welcome, I'll be your trainer." Says a bat pony unicorn, glaring at the tributes. "While you're in here the next few days you'll be able to hone your skills before evaluations. Do your best not to kill eachother before the games begin." My fellow district 9 tribute Posetem Weave gives me a psychotic smile from across the room. Yeah she's totally going to wait to kill me.  "I'm Crescent-Blade Nocturnis." He says, twirling a sword with his magic. "As you may recall I won the games last year."

He's awfully young to be our trainer. Probably a year younger than me, Crescent-Blade Nocturnis from District 2 won the games with his skill in combat magic. Considering I'm a Unicorn, I hope to master my magic to help me win the games. I remember watching the games last year, and how he never shied away from combat. He killed almost everypony, and he never ran from trouble. He looked for it.

Crescent-Blade stares intensely at the largest tribute in the room, Cyclone. He smiles and looks up at him. "You think you're so strong because you're so big?" He shakes his head nervously.

"No sir." And this griffin was quite big. He was easily twice as tall as our trainer, and yet still refuses to disrespect him.

"And you, why are you smiling?" The trainer glares at Posetem Weave.

"Because I get to die in a few days." Half of the tributes burst into laughter. I refuse to laugh with the others. I suppose it's nice to have a positive view of your imminent death, but I can't seem to have one.

"Okay Smartasses, you're on your own tonight. Use any weapons at your disposal." I nod and run behind a brick wall, immediately it's broken by somepony. I teleport immediately to avoid the impact, I look to see who it was and it's Cyclone breathing through his nostrils.

"Big... and strong." He stares quizzically before looking behind him. "How did? You get over there?"

"Teleportation." I grin.

"No, we're over here." I look back to the brick wall, revealing two perfect copies of myself. Chitter and Shift laugh before returning to their normal forms. Changelings... they make me sick. A white pegasus with a red yellow and blue mane quickly flies in front of me.

"Teleportation huh?" She smiles. "That's pretty cool."

"Ill Omen."

"I'm Prism." She pauses. "How far can you teleport?" She asks. I really can't teleport more than 100 feet, but I feel like it's necessary to stretch the truth a little bit.

"Up to 50 miles." I say grinning. Really my short range teleportation skills are quite good, but considering my range is very limited it's not as impressive to me.

"So..." Prism says smiling, nervously dragging her hoof across the ground trying to think of what to say. "I can do this." I watch Prism in awe as she gears up to fly and rockets through the air speed and agility courses in about 14 seconds, before bracing herself and landing back on the ground in front of me.

I raise an eyebrow. "I guess flying as far as you can away from potential murderers is the way to go." I smirk.

Prism laughs quietly. "I guess so."

I wonder for a moment. Prism's going to be tough... unless she tires out from flying fast all the time, but I highly doubt that. She seems like a well conditioned mare. Prism speaks up again.

"Are you done trying to think of how you're going to beat me." She says, with a white hot smirk on her face.

"Don't try to think of how you're going to beat me either... it's next to impossible." I quickly teleport behind her and yell. "Stabbed you in the back." She flinches and then laughs. Then after she shivers nervously she decides to leave my presence without a response. It was fun toying with her.

After a few good minutes of weapons training by myself I see Anvil Strike wrestle Columbine Flucie to the ground. "You're disgusting." Anvil Strike snarls, getting off of her.

"A little beat around the bush never hurt nopony." Columbine Flucie says, getting up and shaking her plot.

"WHORE!" Anvil Strike yells. "You're going to let you and your unborn foal get slaughtered in the games."

"What do I have to live for!" She calls out, crying.

"You're playing the sympathy card." Anvil Strike. "Nooo I want to die. Kill me and you'll fulfill my wishes. Make them feel bad about your mental state, and killing an unborn foal."

"Have you ever had an abortion Anvil?" Columbine says mockingly. "Oh no, you can't because you don't have a fucking uterus!"

"Oh yeah... if this has happened before, why didn't you get an abortion before the games?" Anvil questions.

Columbine shook her head. "I was going to, but then I got chosen. It's as simple as that."

Listening to the tributes argue, I wonder what the game officials will think of her being pregnant? Will she have a shot at getting replaced? I don't know... as obscene as these games are, I don't think they would let somepony get slaughtered while being pregnant with a foal. Even if she didn't want it. Sadly, I don't think I would feel bad about killing her.