Hello again, viewers! After a long wait, it’s time for our 8th Annual Hunger Games Victor Interview! I’m Carlisle Flickman, and HERE’S YOUR WINNER!
DARA KRIS!
(Dara walks out on stage, smiling at Carlisle and then the audience. She wears a slightly shimmery grey dress with low black heels and understates jewelry and makeup. After she takes her seat she puts on a somber expression.)

C: Now, Dara, congratulations first and foremost.
D: Thank you.
C: You suffered very few injuries in the arena, as I’m sure we all remember. A few broken ribs, bruises, scrapes. From what I’m told, you are all patched up. So how does it feel to be the Victor?
D: It feels… unbelievable. I keep wondering when I’m going to wake up.
C: I’m sure it does. What was your first thought when you realized you had won?
D: Well, I’m pretty sure that I was in shock the first few moments because the only thing that kept replaying in my head was “I’m still alive.”
C: Understandable, understandable. Now, when did it first occur to you that you might be able to actually win?
D: When the Gamemakers sent everyone to the cornucopia. That’s when I realized I could win if my trap worked.
C: Yes, that was your real moment of truth. I’m sure the viewers remember that your strategy was to lay low and stay out of the way. It seemed to work very well for you. However, is there anything you wish you had done that you didn’t? What would you change if you could?
D: I don’t think I’d do anything differently because personally, I’m glad that I didn’t have to kill anyone with my bare hands.
C: Yes, yes. There are two kills attributed to your name, and both died as a result of your very ingenious trap. I was so excited when the trap went off, ahaha. Very excited. Weren’t you, viewers? Yes. Now, Dara. I have to ask. What was the hardest part of the arena?
D: Never knowing if the moment you were in was going to be your last. But, also, the moment right before the Games started and we were all on our platforms was one of the best moments of the Games. It was the first huge adrenaline rush I’ve felt in years.
C: Aha. So you are a very intellectual person. It must be hard to find things to occupy your mind. What are you going to do now, after the Games are over?
D: Live. (she smiles briefly)
C: Well, it was lovely as always to speak with you, and I am positively tickled pink that you are our winner. You look lovely. Now we’ll give the viewers the chance to ask you some questions if they like. That’s all from me, folks. I’ll see you again next year! Aha!
We want to make sure we highlight the best moments in the Recap!
Don’t forget to leave questions for the Gamemakers or the Victor!
Ask it here and maybe we’ll include it in the interview on Saturday!
The 8th Annual Hunger Games has a new Victor!
Dara Kris, the female Tribute from District 6, is 17 and scored an 8 in training. She killed two Tributes with an ingenious trap at the Cornucopia, and avoided much of the conflict in the arena. She won by being clever and flying under the radar. Please congratulate your winner!
On Saturday we will have the usual Recap and Victor interview. Until then, look out for opportunities to talk to the Gamemakers! We’ll see you in six days!
“Attention, Tributes,” a voice rings through the arena. The four Tributes look up, listening to the announcement. “Please make your way to the Cornucopia. A special reward has been left their for you.
Which of the final Tributes would you like to see die sooner rather than later? Who do you really dislike, hate, or just plain don’t care about?
Dara Kris
Gwen Stevenson
Edgar Reed
Aleksander Endimiun
Today the number of Tributes fell quite dramatically, follow three deaths in the canyon. Here’s what happened.
Dara Kris returns to her camp, her water canteen freshly filled from the creek in the canyon and a hare in one hand, caught in one of her snares. She makes her camp beside the plateau on the far north side, against the sloping sides of the plateau. She puts her hare down and crouches next to the ring of rocks where she makes her fire.
As she begins to pile dry brush together in the center of the rocks, she pauses, frowning. The pebbles all around her are jumping.
She scrambles to her feet as the earthquake starts in earnest. Rocks the size of her head begin to fall down the steep sides of the plateau, headed for her and her camp.
Dara turns and runs, but she is forced to run along the plateau because of the position of her camp. She doesn’t look back as boulders crush her supplies. She runs for all she’s got.
Just as she rounds the corner, a rock smashes into her, knocking her down. She gets back up almost instantly, but she is limping and she presses a hand to her size. She runs away from the plateau, and as she clears it the earthquake stops.
Dara lowers herself carefully to the ground, tears in her eyes. She presses her fingers against her ankle first, wincing. Then she touches her ribs, and has to bite down on her fist to smother her shout. She pulls off her jacket and raises her shirt, looking at the skin over her ribs. It is already beginning to bruise, and it would appear that she cracked or broke at least one of her ribs.
Aleksander Endimiun bathes his bite wounds in the oasis, washing away the dried blood. He winces as the water stings his wound. Then he sighs, laying back in the water. He floats on his back in the shallows, the water covering most of his body.
He begins to swim lazily toward the center of the oasis, eyes closed against the sun’s bright rays. He floats easily, casually kicking a leg now and then to propel him away from shore.
He doesn’t notice the heat at first, but it quickly catches up with him. He sits up, treading water and looking around, frowning.
Then he yelps, and quickly starts paddling for shore. The oasis begins to boil around him and he screams, his skin reddening and blistering as he swims for his life.
He pulls himself out of the water just as the oasis reaches a full boil. Tears running down his face, he crawls into the dirt, sobbing quietly. He curls up on himself, wrapping his arms around his knees, as his skin continues to blister and his blisters continue to pop and ooze. The oasis boils.
Misha Kolin turns away from the body in front of her, her quiet laughter becoming louder as she jumps down from the boulder on which she is standing. She begins to walk away from the body, humming under her breath.
Katie Frost climbs out of the cave that has been her unintentional home for the past couple days. She climbs down to the canyon floor, stretching and blinking in the sunlight.
The sound of shifting gravel makes her spin, unsheathing her sword at the same time. Misha Kolin stands there, grinning, her flamethrower raised, finger on the trigger.
“Hey there,” Kolin says. Then she squeezes the trigger.