I do not own the Hunger Games. The tributes belong to their respective submitters.
When Rome's in ruins
We are the lions
Free of the colosseums.
Venera Toulley, District Two Female
A thin layer of tepid seawater laps at my ankles. I try to fill my lungs with briny air, but the breath hitches in my throat and I end up choking on spit and fear. I keep reminding myself that I wanted this.
That I still want this.
Behind me, the curved wall catches the mid-morning sunbeams and casts a golden glow throughout the room, throwing half-shadows across all of our terrified faces. Light reflects off of the water, dancing in silver threads across the ceiling, and a surge of adrenaline pours through my veins. The rest of my life may only last a few short minutes more.
A second before the clock hits zero, I dig my toes into the sand, readying myself for the imminent melee. My heart thunders against my ribs, ready to explode, and the anxiety presses against my solar plexus like a bubble of acrid poison. Does anyone else hear the incessant ringing, or does that terrible sound belong to my ears alone?
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Eighty-First Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor!"
I don't have time to think.
My feet slap against the water as I pump my arms at my sides, searching the flooded room for Sebastian's form. Through the dozens of scrambling, screaming children, I cannot spot him, and the possibility that I will never find him, at least not alive, clenches at my gut. I don't want to go through this alone.
The girl from Six steps in front of me, blocking my path with pale skin and terrified eyes. I take her by the shoulders and throw her to the ground, disregarding the stampede of tributes that could very well trample her underfoot. I can't care about what happens to some outer-district girl, especially if her death increases my own chances of survival.
When I reach the mouth of the Cornucopia, I vault myself over a black crate and hit the wet sand hard enough to make my knees ache. The metal blades and spikes gleam dully in the limited light, and I spot a poniard hanging from a rack on the wall. Without hesitation, I take the weapon and grab the first backpack I see, hoping that it holds something useful. So many choices, so little time to choose. I need to get out of here before-
"Going somewhere?"
I instinctively duck out of the way before either of Azure's sais have a chance to find my neck.
She smiles, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "You didn't think we'd just let you leave with our supplies, did you?"
"Nope." I leap forward, taking Azure off-guard, and slam my shoulder into her chest. She falls backward into the wall, clutching at her collarbone and gasping for air. I don't wait for her to recompose herself.
I find Sebastian outside the opening of the Cornucopia, battling with the boy from Thirteen over a bow and a set of arrows. His fist connects with Rufous's jaw, and the boy's head whips around with sickening force. I wince. Yet, despite Sebastian's obvious tactical superiority, the young boy doesn't give up, digging his fingers into Sebastian's skin and trying to land a decent kick, even as his lower cheek turns purple. Persistence means nothing when coupled with complete stupidity.
My ally grabs Rufous by the neck and throws him against the side of the Cornucopia. Something cracks. Blood seeps from the boy's nose, and his head lolls to the side. Taking advantage of the kid's disorientation, Sebastian wraps his arm around Rufous's throat, and with one violent twist, Thirteen drops into the water, two halves of a broken spine pressed taut against his skin.
"Sebastian!"
He tenses up at the sound of his name, but relaxes by a fraction when he catches sight of me. He slings the quiver over his shoulder, purposefully averting his gaze from the corpse at our feet. A tremor racks his frame, and his face falls with realization.
"Come on," I say, grabbing his hand. The other Careers have already spotted us, and I'd rather not sit here like a lamb waiting for slaughter.
Stumbling after me, he doesn't protest, eyes distant and lips parted with subdued shock.
We pass the pair from Eight, but they don't seem to understand that neither Sebastian nor I have any intention of killing them. Both Julian and Valorie dart to the side, giving us a straight shot to one of the hallways. I don't know where it leads, but most anywhere is better than this killing ground. At least we'll have somewhere to hide.
When we place a foot of stone between us and the other tributes, I release Sebastian's hand.
He stares at the ground, leaning against the wall to catch his breath, squeezing his eyes shut and seemingly in pain. I can't tell if it's sweat or tears or brine, but his face glistens with a sheen of moisture and for a second he looks incredibly fragile, like I could snap him between my fingers. His gaze sharpens with each labored breath. I hope he fully recovers soon. If he can't fight, our chances will suffer.
I keep my attention focused on the doorway, making sure the others don't follow us. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," he says, voice brittle. I pretend that his words don't fall firmly in the realm of untruth.
"Then why are we still here?"
Heaving a sigh, he bows his head. "Just give me a minute."
I nod, happy to sacrifice a few seconds now if it saves his sanity in the long run. The sooner he learns that this Game was never meant to be easy, the better.
Jorah Horne, District Seven Male
I parry an attack from Stark Everglade, our blades clashing with an ear-splitting screech, and push him back a few steps. He's stronger than he looks, but his blows are loose and wild, and judging by his hesitation, he doesn't actually want to hurt me. It's just self-defense. Honestly, I don't want to hurt him, either. But what would the rest of the Pack say if they knew I willingly let him go?
Adonis and Azure have already disappeared into the tunnels, searching for the kids who bolted early-on. That leaves Lapis, Amelithe, Padoa and me to guard the Cornucopia. Even though we're outnumbered, many of the outer-district tributes remain at the edges of the room, still hopeful, but too afraid to come any closer.
Lapis swings his rapier at Julian, teeth bared with anger, but the boy from Eight feints out of the way and flees with Valorie in tow. Lapis, like the easily-distracted Chihuahua he is, chases after them, abandoning the Cornucopia in spite of Amelithe's direct orders to stay put.
A frightened cry rises from the other side of the room as the boy from Six gladly hacks at my district partner. Padoa shrinks away from her attacker, successfully blocking his erratic assault with the blade of her zweihander, but with every strike, he comes one step closer to landing a hit.
Amelithe sees Padoa's desperation, but even though she stands nearer to Padoa than I do, she's already engaged in a fight with the girl from Ten.
With a rasping scream, Fenby pushes Amelithe back, turns tail, and runs away, followed closely by her ally from Nine. For a sickening moment, Amelithe glances between her escaping prey and her endangered ally, gauging which target holds greater strategic value. Though I focus the majority of my attention on Stark, I silently will Amelithe to make the right decision.
She does not.
Spinning on her heels, bladed circles held high, my ally, my leader, abandons my district partner in favor of eliminating the girls from Nine and Ten. I cannot keep the hatred from boiling inside my veins. Does Padoa's life really mean so little to her? Is she not worth saving?
I kick Stark away in the hopes he won't risk injury by attacking me after I've ended the fight, and commit one of the gravest sins in the world of a Career: I turn my back on the enemy.
Apatura's knife grazes Padoa's cheek, and she lets out another terrified shriek. I sprint towards her, each footfall jarring my entire body, hoping that I'll reach her in time. As I run, something clicks into place inside my mind. Amelithe never cared. They never cared. No objections were raised when Adonis attacked Padoa, and they obviously have no concern for her life. Would they even notice if either of us died?
I throw my arms wide and launch myself at the boy's midsection. He gasps from the impact, thrown completely off-balance, and crashes into the water with a snarl. His blade flies at my shoulder, but I grab his wrist and pin his arm under the water. Gnashing his teeth in my face and writhing under my grip, he reminds me more of an animal than a boy.
Good. Animals are easier to kill.
My dagger slides smoothly between his ribs and into his heart. His eyes bulge, his body tenses, and his jaw drops with a silent scream. The weapon quivers in my hand. With every beat, his heart slices itself against the blade, again and again and again, until it simply stops altogether, too mangled to continue. Blood spurts up from the gaping injury, coating my fingers with sticky, metallic crimson.
He goes limp and I pull the dagger from his chest. I didn't expect that ending a life would be so easy. Too easy.
Rising to my feet, I survey the room. Only a few outer-district tributes remain. All of the other Careers are fighting elsewhere.
"Did he hurt you?"
Padoa brushes her fingers against the cut on her cheek. "Not really, no." She stares at his unmoving form. "Thank you. For saving me."
I nod in recognition.
She laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck. "I guess I-"
"Padoa, we can't stay here."
Her eyes flash with simultaneous acceptance and doubt. "What are you suggesting?"
"You already know. I can tell by the way you're looking at me."
Furrowing her brow, she sighs. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Oh? Would you rather stick with the people who don't care whether you live or die?"
"They care about us, Jorah."
"Sure. That's why Adonis went out of his way to mess with you, and Amelithe ran when she had the chance to help you fight off the boy from Six," I say, gesturing to her dead attacker. She hesitates, and I take advantage of her silence. "It's now or never, and I'm leaving even if you don't."
Biting her lower lip, mouth creased with anxiety, she looks up at me. She knows she can't say anything to change my mind. "Then let's leave."
We both grab a backpack of food and I pick up a bag of medical consumables. When the other tributes realize that Padoa and I have no intention of defending the Cornucopia, they swarm the supply piles, taking as many items of value as they can carry. I have no objections. The rest of the Pack can starve for all I care.
Without looking back, I run towards same doorway I saw the pair from Two use. Padoa does the same.
Hurrying through the deserted hallways, the lump in my throat grows with each step. I hope we made the right choice. I hope I made the right choice.
We find them at the end of the eighth corridor. Venera looks over her shoulder as we round the corner, and smirks when she sees us. Unperturbed, she taps Sebastian on the arm with a murmur, and he whips around, aiming a nocked arrow directly at my heart.
"What do you want, Seven?"
"We changed our minds," I say, holding up my hands to show that I mean no harm.
Sebastian doesn't move. "Oh? And we're supposed to believe you, is that it?"
"What proof do you want?" Padoa asks.
He blinks and lowers the arrow, though only slightly. Now it's pointing at my gut. "I don't know. What proof do you have?"
Padoa unshoulders her backpack and holds it out to him in offering. "Here. Take it." I immediately follow her example.
Sebastian and Venera exchange a glance of surprise. I don't know what they were expecting, but judging by their half-amused smirks, it looks like Padoa and I satisfied the requirement.
Venera raises a hand. "Keep them." A faint grin plays at the edges of her lips. "Whatever you carry belongs to you."
Eyes brightening, Padoa asks, "So, we can accompany you?"
"Yes," Sebastian says, completely removing me from the bow's line of fire. "But if you're lying, you're as good as dead."
Adonis Belmont, District One Male
Navigating the flooded hallways, I hold my hand out and drag my fingers across the smooth, brine-slicked stone. Under my feet, a thick layer of sand smothers a vast coral formation, and I remain wary of the rough, white branches that lurk under the water.
My thoughts keep returning to the Cornucopia. If I'm lucky, some outer-district tribute will have taken care of Padoa, though I won't count on it. Hopefully, Jorah and the others managed to keep our losses to a minimum. I don't expect them to fend off every tribute, but I'd rather not have all of our opponents armed to the teeth with our weapons and food.
As I pass one of the flooded rooms, a muffled splash echoes through the empty space, accompanied by a low-spoken apology. I creep across the threshold, searching for the source of the sound. Blue sky pours in through wide cracks on the opposite wall. The water takes the shafts of cold, filtered light and throws them against the stone in a net of trembling white lines. A doorway on the right wall leads to another dimly-lit room, but from where I stand, I can't see anything of note.
Tiptoeing across the coral-infested sand, careful to avoid splashing, I station myself at the edge of the doorway, just out of view.
"How much time will we waste here?" someone whispers. I don't recognize their voice.
"They'll be here in a little bit." I strain my ears to make out every syllable, and conclude that it's either Sterling or Steven.
"But it's been so long," another voice whines, heavy with anxiety. Definitely the boy from Twelve. The other speaker must be Sterling, then.
I place the billhook at the edge of the doorway, tilting the blade until the tip of polished metal catches the boys' reflections. They stand in the middle of the room, their backs turned towards me. I close my eyes and slowly inhale, preparing myself for whatever happens next. I'd like to pretend that the adrenaline saturating every cell in my body isn't fueled by fear. I'm the superior fighter. They don't stand a chance.
And yet.
Hurling myself around the corner, I focus on the biggest threat: Sterling. At the sound of my footfalls, he tenses up and turns to face me, clutching a spear close to his chest. I grab the weapon before he has the chance to strike, and with both hands, I smash the wooden pole into his nose. He yelps, and I rip the spear from his grip. As it sinks below the water with a quiet plop, I bring the handle of the billhook down on his temple with enough force to send him into the wall, dazed and bleeding.
Twirling the blade in my hand, I direct my attention to the two weaker boys standing in the corner, their faces frozen with absolute terror. As I step closer, their eyes grow wider and they push themselves against the wall, visibly trembling. They didn't even have the guts to run. That anyone would refer to them as the anti-Careers serves as more of a joke than an insult.
Despite the water lapping at the walls, an oppressive silence descends upon us. The one on the right, Twelve, never lets his gaze leave me, while the one on the left keeps stealing glances at Sterling, who still lies in the water, whimpering to himself.
"What's wrong with you?" the redhead asks, teeth bared. His voice wavers, and I know he's trying to buy some time for his allies. "Are you even human?"
The corners of my lips turn up in a grin. He's making a fool of himself, trying to convince me that my actions are wrong, hoping that my conscience will suddenly awaken and I'll let him leave without any further bloodshed. He doesn't seem to realize that I don't care about the morality of my choices.
He shakes his head with disbelief. "How can you do this?"
I flip the billhook over in my hand, tightening my grip. With a smile, I meet his gaze. "It's not as difficult as you'd think."
Closing the gap between us, I drive the weapon into his neck. The fluidity of the movement catches him off-guard. He holds his arms out in defense, curled fists pressed against me with ebbing strength. Blood spurts from the cleave in his throat, running down his shoulders and flooding over my forearms in warm rivulets. His pupils dilate, and with hardly a gasp, he slips into the water, a thick cloud of red billowing around his broken form.
The boy from Twelve lets out a harsh whine, eyes darting wildly between me and his dying ally. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he stumbles backwards, flailing in the water to escape the murder scene. He claws across the sand and drags himself upright, openly sobbing as he disappears into the labyrinth of the castle.
I let him leave. He won't last long on his own, and I have better things to do than chase some kid around the arena.
Behind me, Sterling stirs, hands clumsily wandering through the seawater in search of his missing weapon. The injury to his head still affects his cognition, weakening his actions and delaying his response time.
He lets out a strained gasp when my heel collides with his shoulder. His arm catches on a piece of coral, and before he can wrap a hand around the deep cut, I press my foot against his neck, pinning him under the water.
His mouth opens with a drowned scream. In a display of considerable strength, he tries to push my foot away, though I respond by simply leaning more weight on him. Kicking his legs and fighting against me, his chest rises and falls in spasms, desperate for the air that won't come. He's fading. I allow myself to relax as his movements become more frantic and less coordinated.
"Game over."
Fenby Frost, District Ten Female
"Did we lose her?" Alina asks, wheezing beside me. I don't think she can keep up for much longer.
I leap over a branch of coral and steal a glance over my shoulder, searching for the girl from One. "We might have."
My ally immediately stumbles to a stop, leaning her hands on her knees and sucking in lungfuls of air. "Where are Sterling-" gasp "-and the others?"
Pointing to the doorway ahead of us, I say, "Before we split up at the Cornucopia, he said that he'd take Nix and Barnabas down the leftmost hallway and stick close to the ocean, rather than retreating into the castle's interior. So, we need to go that way."
Alina nods, her face screwed up with exhaustion. "Ok." She straightens her back as her breathing returns to normal. "We should probably find them before they start to worry."
"Good idea." She starts jogging ahead of me, and I raise an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to run?"
"Running is fine. Sprinting for five minutes isn't fine."
"Ah." I fall into step alongside her.
Apart from our footfalls, we travel in silence, remaining on high alert as we strain our ears to pick up any approaching tributes. I don't want to fight, at least not this early in the game. Neither of us can afford the potential injury.
As we pass a winding stairwell, Alina nudges my arm. "Do you hear that?"
Faint splashing echoes through the labyrinth, just loud enough to cause concern. We slow to a tiptoe, dipping our feet in the water as quietly as possible, until we round a corner and find ourselves staring at the source of the sound.
In the room at the end of the hallway, the boy from One stands over a thrashing figure, pinning them under the water. Drowning them.
It takes a moment to realize that the figure is Sterling.
The hallways around me constrict to a single point, centered on the space between Adonis's shoulder blades. In my hands, the throwing knives feel heavy, begging to be used. But I can't know for certain that I'll hit my target, and if I miss, we'll lose the element of surprise. We can't win against him head-on. If we catch him off-guard, though, we might stand a chance.
"You get Sterling," I whisper, my voice hardly louder than silence as I hand her my backpack. "I'll distract the Career."
Alina shudders. "Are you sure?"
I nod, and tap her on the shoulder for reassurance as I break into a sprint. Sterling only has a few seconds left, surely. I have to make them count.
Alerted by our footsteps, Adonis starts to turn around, but I launch myself at his back before he has the chance to realize what's happening. I wrap my arms around his neck in a chokehold, pressing my nails into the soft spot under his jaw, where the pulse is the strongest. He stumbles forward, but he catches himself in time to keep from falling onto the jagged coral. Sterling rises from the water, waterlogged and gasping for air, and Alina grabs his arm, pulling him towards the exit.
"Go!" I scream, grappling for leverage against Adonis's steeled frame. He backpedals, slamming me into the wall, and I tuck my head against his shoulder to save my skull from cracking against the stone. The impact bruises my ribs and empties both of my lungs in one pathetic breath, but I don't let go.
As the Career struggles underneath me, I spot Barnabas's body floating in the corner, unmoving and pallid, surrounded by sickly-orange water. Blood. He's dead.
He's dead.
Everything goes red. I sink my teeth into the crook of Adonis's neck, biting harder and harder until the metallic tang of blood runs across my tongue.
He screams though gritted teeth, and drags the curved edge of his knife across my forearm. The pain floods through my flesh, stinging like ice.
Again, he bashes me against the wall, but this time, I loosen my grip around his neck and pull my legs up to my chest. Releasing him completely, I lean back against the wall and push him away with my feet. As he staggers forward, tiny trails of blood leaking down the back of his shirt, I drop to the ground and slip from the room before he regains his balance.
Down the hallway I sprint, pumping my arms and flinging droplets of red all across the walls and water. The open wound burns horribly, but we have a medical kit in one of the backpacks. The pain won't last forever.
I slide around one of the corners, barely avoiding one of the jagged knives of coral, and almost run into Sterling. He leans against the wall, retching into the water, spit and bile dripping from his lips. He glances up, red-eyed, and acknowledges my return by raising his fingers with a pathetic wave. Adonis did a number on him.
"You're alive," Alina says, breathing a sigh of relief. Her eyes linger on my arm, and she pulls the tiny red-crossed box from her pack. "Here."
I nod in thanks. The alcohol sears my exposed nerves, but at least it will keep the injury clean. Carefully, I wrap the gauze around my forearm, though the blood immediately soaks through, like a blooming flower. I cringe.
"Do you know what happened to Nix?" I ask, holding my arm out as Alina ties the ends of the bandage into a knot.
Sterling shakes his head, clutching his bruised temple. "No," he chokes. "He ran. That's all I know."
"Oh." I hang my head. "Then we'll have to find him."
Even as the words escape my lips, I realize that, in all likelihood, we'll never see him again. But I'm the one who involved him in our alliance, and he's my responsibility. I can't give up on him.
Vespera Zona, District Five Female
The water runs red through the doorway.
The boy and the girl speak to each other quietly. Too close. Hovering over Steven's body, just out of view.
His blood washes around my ankles.
"He had allies back in training," the boy says. He's the one from Four. The rude one. "They have to be around here somewhere."
A whimper rises in the back of my throat and I clutch the dagger closer to my chest. Nieve tightens her grip around my mouth.
Hunter leans down to my ear. "Don't let her control you like that, Vespera. You know how to take care of yourself." When I don't respond, he whispers, "You could run. You could escape. Just leave her here, Vespera."
I close my eyes, forcing the saline down my cheeks in twin trails. Hunter is wrong. I am scared and so is Nieve, and if the Careers find us then we will have to fight together. Maybe even die. But no matter what happens, I will not abandon my friend.
"Maybe they're back at the Cornucopia," the boy says halfheartedly. He knows he has failed by letting us escape. "I'm sure that Adonis-"
"I don't care about Adonis," the girl snaps. District One, I think. "No one died and made him king."
Someone's footsteps slosh through the water, growing more and more distant until they disappear altogether.
"No one died and made you queen, either," the boy mutters. He pauses, and a nauseating snap echoes through the room. "Sorry, Three. That's just the way it goes." Another pair of feet splash across the floor and down the hallway. The noise fades until I'm sure he's gone.
Nieve lets her hand drop, and I release a pent-up breath that seems to have lasted for an eternity.
I can't stop myself from stating the obvious. "They killed Steven."
Her gaze falls. Hesitation. "I know." She tries to muster more words, but they're gone before she knows what to say. Tugging at the hem of her burgundy shirt, she releases a strangled sound, and to my surprise, raises her hand to wipe tears from her eyes. I want to comfort her, but I draw a blank. No reassuring phrases, no intelligent remarks. I didn't think Nieve knew how to cry.
"Look at her," Hunter says, his disgust slipping through gritted teeth. "Weak. Pathetic."
"Shut up, Hunter," Cocoa says, her eyes wide. Neither of us can understand Hunter's angle. "Nieve just lost a friend. Vespera did, too. Give them a break."
He leans back on his heels and sets his jaw, raising his hands palms-out with defeat. "Yeah. Fine. I get it." He furrows his brow. "But these people aren't-"
Footsteps. Splashing. Noises. A girl's voice reaches me from another room, and I am absolutely certain it's the Career from One, coming to finish the job.
Enemies.
Here to kill us. To end everything.
I grip the dagger so hard that my knuckles turn white. Can I fight? Can I kill?
And even if I can, should I?
The murderers pause in the room where Steven lies dead, and one of them lets out a frightened gasp. But... didn't she watch him die?
"Kill her," Hunter says. The words ring hollow and heavy like my frantic heartbeats. "You need to live."
The Career draws closer, right at the threshold, and Hunter's face becomes ugly and cruel as his mouth twists into a furious scowl. "Kill her!"
A girl stumbles through the doorway. The adrenaline thinks for me, and before I can register who I'm aiming at, I bury the blade deep into her temple, all the way up to the hilt. I leave the dagger lodged in her skull, even as the blood runs through her short, dark hair. Her mouth twitches. The light leaves her eyes in a single flash, and she falls away from me, the momentum of the blow sending her sprawling like a rag doll. The water licks at her injury, the growing cloud of blood bobbing with the current. Her body spasms for the final time before she goes completely still.
It isn't the girl from One.
Sickness and confusion overwhelm me because she isn't the girl from One. This isn't something I can undo. No, no, no, this is too real and here isn't where I want to be.
The other girl shrieks, and the noise shocks me back to reality. It's haunting. Condemning.
"Ionette!" she screams, falling into the water with trembling hands and quivering lips. Black hair hangs in strings over her tear-stained face, and her gaze doesn't move from the body lying before us.
Before I can say anything, she scrambles to her feet and flees from the room, hardly sparing me a second glance. I don't know what I would have said to her, anyways. But I... I should have...
Wrapping my arms around my midsection, I kneel to the ground, letting the bloody water flow across my calves and thighs. Hunter and Cocoa have both disappeared, and I don't know what to do. What have I done? The girl from Twelve didn't deserve to die. My friends have left me and I don't know how this happened.
"Get up," Nieve commands. Her voice is strong, but my actions have given her reason to fear me. I can see it in her eyes. "We need to leave." When I don't respond, she grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet. "I'm not kidding, Vespera. The Careers could return at any moment. We have to get as far away from the Cornucopia as possible."
She's right.
I cast a glance at Ionette's crumpled form. The dagger will stay with her. Neither Nieve nor I want to remove the metal from her dead flesh.
"It was an accident," she says, though she speaks with doubt. She's trying to hide it, but I notice nonetheless.
And even though her lack of trust stings... I don't blame her.
Kyrie Lilitu, District Eleven Male
The carved, angular stone of the castle simply melts into the jagged rock of the cliff face. I brush my fingers across the invisible seam, unable to detect even the slightest gradation. The gamemakers know what they're doing.
Zea stares out across the rooftop, obviously surprised by the vast network of plants and trees that live on the highest level of the castle. "It's a garden."
"No, really," I mutter, reaching out to touch the center of a wide, ripe sunflower. "Do you think it's safe to be here?"
She shrugs. "I don't know. Be careful, though. The flowers could end up spitting acid or something."
My hand snaps to my side. "Oh, that's a wonderful thought."
"Better to have unpleasant thoughts than missing limbs, right?"
I glare at the potentially deadly sunflower, hurrying after her. "Yeah, I guess so. If they're all so dangerous, then why are we staying here?"
"I never said they were dangerous. Just that they might be dangerous."
I roll my eyes. "Of course. Silly me." Despite my best efforts, I can't suppress the waver in my voice.
Zea ducks through a particularly overgrown part of the walkway, and her face brightens with a smile. "Look, Ky. Mangoes."
"I don't know, Zea," I say, staring up at the red and green fruit. "They might explode when you eat them."
She sits down on a stone bench and pats the space next to her. "Lighten up, will you?" Offering me a ripe mango, she says, "Here, I'll try it first. If I die, then you should probably think about finding a different food source."
Digging her fingernails into the waxy fruit, she peels the colorful skin back to reveal the juicy, golden flesh underneath. She takes a bite, and to my relief, her mouth doesn't melt off of her face. In fact, she seems to be enjoying herself.
I imitate her and peel the mango, but the cannons go off right as I bite down. I almost choke.
Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.
Five deaths in the bloodbath. That leaves twenty-three of us, twenty-two of whom must die before District Zero crowns a victor.
The anthem blares across the arena, disturbing a flock of colorful birds from their roosts. They rise from the trees in a swarm of pink, black, and orange, calling to each other in reedy, whistling tones, though the orchestral arrangement devoted to District Zero's glory drowns most of them out.
The seal appears above the sparkling ocean, followed by the faces of the dead. First Steven Krane, then Apatura Lane. I don't remember much about the boys from Three and Six, and I didn't notice them in all the chaos.
Barnabas and Ionette both died, too, but I didn't care for either of them.
The fifth and final face belongs to Rufous Mineheimer. He's different, because I know how he died. I watched it happen.
I only spoke to him a few times during training, and he seemed nice enough. Quiet. Smart.
Alive.
Hanging my head, I squeeze my eyes shut, unsuccessfully trying to force the image of his body out of my brain. I don't want to think about his death. I don't want to think about his neck, bent at an impossible angle. I don't want to think about how his eyes bulged and how his mouth opened far enough to let his tongue hang out. I don't want to think about Two's horror when he realized he had killed another human being.
I press my hands against the sides of my face, trying to fight the stinging behind my eyes.
Make the thoughts go away.
Two arms wrap around my shoulders, and the smell of Zea's hair envelops me. "It's okay, Kyrie."
I want to push her away and say that I can handle it by myself, that I don't need her hug to reassure me. All of Panem is watching, and by treating me the way she does, they all must think I have the emotional fortitude of a rice cake. Her actions are demeaning.
But I return the hug anyways, resting my chin on her shoulder with wavering breaths. When death stands right outside, ready to knock on the door, I can't waste any thought on the perceptions of a bunch of people I've never met. I know myself. I know Zea. And I don't care if she sees me cry, because even though I hate every weak, muffled sob that rises from my throat, she won't think any less of me.
In poisoned places,
We are anti-venom,
We're the beginning of the end
The lyrics are from the song "Young Volcanoes", by Fall Out Boy
Rufous Mineheimer, District Thirteen Male - Killed by Sebastian Flynn; Placed 28th
Apatura Lane, District Six Male - Killed by Jorah Horne; Placed 27th
Barnabas Gringlam, District Nine Male - Killed by Adonis Belmont; Placed 26th
Steven Krane, District Three Male - Killed by Lapis Maccolade; Placed 25th
Ionette Exon, District Twelve Female - Killed by Vespera Zona; Placed 24th
Rufous, Apatura, Barnabas, Steven, and Ionette... what can I say? I loved writing for them, but I either had difficulty capturing their character or fitting them into a plot, or their usefulness as characters had already run its course.
The blog has been updated with the deaths.
The popularity poll is also posted on my profile. Congratulations to Azure!
Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think!
