Under rocks, breaking locks -- OPEN

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She walked towards the axe station, the weapon she'd wanted to get her hands on the whole time. Forget all the knives, and bows, and spears. The axe was her weapon, and she'd have it, whether the stupid Gamemakers liked it or not. If there was an axe placed in the cornucopia, you'd know at once that Daisa O'Sullivan would retrieve it. With all her speed and might, she'd run for that axe, run like the wind, and take down the other tributes one by one until nothing remained of this year's batch. Daisa was prepared for the Hunger Games; a true trained warrior. Usually the people from District 8 were seamstresses or tailors, but Daisa used an axe. You needed cows to make leather for shoes, right? Cows came from District 10, so that wasn't the reason why Daisa was trained in axes. No. Daisa knew that one day she might be a competitor, so she learned to wield an axe. The weapon District 7 was famous for. But now, Daisa was ready to kill Seven and take the crown. The axe was her specialty now, not theirs. They were just obstacles in her way.

The mentor seemed pleased that Daisa had experience in the axe, so she got on with the usual routines she'd do back in the district. Where life was normal, and she'd dress in the clothes her mother lovingly sewed her and head to practice. She'd swing the axe and learn how to control it. By herself. No mentors from the Capitol here to help her. Just her own wits and knowledge. Daisa took an axe from the rack and then aimed at the dummy. She held the axe mainly in her left hand, but her right hand was stretched across her chest and gripped the handle of the axe. She spun slightly then hurled the axe mercilessly at the dummy. It sliced through the head with a satisfying THUMP and hit the ground.

Daisa remembered that the Gamemakers probably hated her. The results of the Gamemaker sessions would be tonight, and Daisa was sure she'd get a low score. But she felt slightly...satisfied at what she did. The knife, simply aimed at the neck of the Avox, striking her dead. Daisa had made a kill before the Hunger Games started, and she knew she'd be sure to tell the district all about it when she returned home. Then she remembered she had no friends to tell. She'd mutter it to herself, day and night, reminding herself that she was raised to show no mercy, to just swing the axe or the knife or the sword and end it. Her killing style was simple. Quick, but bloody. After the head was severed, if it was a human and not a dummy, blood would spurt from the neck, draining it from the human's body. Of course, the blow would kill the human instantly, but afterwards, a painless but gruesome display would be broadcasted for the whole nation to watch. And Daisa would love every minute of it.

"I don't need any mentors," she said sternly to the trainer. "I got this all in the bag." She turned back to another dummy and started to pound the crap out of it, sometimes even using her own fists instead of the axe. She needed to impress the Gamemakers before the Games began...