A/N: POV Scarlett

It had been five days since Chance had died and I still hadn't managed to track down that boy from District Ten. Every four days, religiously, it seemed so far, Blight would send me some sort of meat and a loaf of bread. Apparently he agreed that my biggest weakness was finding enough food to survive.

That's not to say I hadn't tried. I had attempted to hunt a couple of times with both the knife and the hatchet, but to no avail. The squirrels and rabbits were too quick for my reflexes, and the last thing I needed was to lose one of my weapons in the attempt.

I had been attempting to track Ten for days, circling the same large area, always coming back to a small group of trees at the center. The rain washed out his tracks fairly well, but I was almost sure, after days of examining, that he hadn't left. So where was he? Hiding? Waiting? I told myself that if I stayed in the area on alert, either he would come out to face me, attempt to run, or starve to death.

Unless he had a large supply of food.

But I was counting on him having little more than his sword. Perhaps it was intuition, rather than reasoning. My father had told me that I like my mother, had stronger intuition than most people, which had helped me out a lot. I was smart, yes, but I'd found that my reasoning rarely got me half as far as my gut. My reasoning was failing me on all counts as to where Ten was, but my gut told me I was in the right area, that he hadn't left, so I didn't leave. My reasoning told me he could be getting sponsor's gifts wherever he was hiding, but my gut told me I could wait him out.

There had yet to be any cannons for three days, but I had hardly moved far in those days. I was aware the Careers were probably on my tail, but I didn't want to lose Ten. So I stayed in one place, sleeping, knowing I was putting myself at great risk.

It took me two more completely uneventful and uneasy days before I heard something much larger than a bird moving in the trees above me. Frowning, I looked up and saw the outline of the boy from District Ten sitting in a tree. I smirked.

He thought that because I wasn't willing to climb a tree, he was safe. He wasn't incredibly far up, but far enough that most weapons wouldn't be able to reach him. Still, I had been throwing hatchets for all my life. I picked it up, smiled coyly up at his nervous face, and hurled the hatchet so that it lodged in his head, careful to knock him out of the tree so I didn't have to retrieve my weapon by climbing, and as soon as he hit the forest floor the cannon sounded.

I smiled, going over to his body and pulling out my hatchet leisurely. I used the dirt and leaves to clean the blood off the blade and went on my way toward the mountain, where I was sure the others would be.

"Careers," I said. "Amber. Titus. Three. I think I'll go for Three."

There was food in the packs, but only what I had managed to forage and half a loaf of bread. As I walked, a parachute fell to the ground in front of me and I bent down to pick it up.

More bread and meat. Ahead of schedule.

Blight was feeding me for killing Ten. Or avenging Chance? I would know for sure when I made my next kill. I didn't make another kill that day, though. I made good time toward the mountain and I set up camp, I heard two other cannons that day, with unknown victims. Staring up at the sky that night, I learned that Nigel and Amber had been the other two cannons.

"Titus. Three," I whispered into the cool night air. "Aidan. Anya. Summer. Me."

There were six of us left. Camera crews had probably interviewed my family that day, and all of Panem was likely in love with Alyson. Trish had had her hair done by real stylists. Blight would be analyzing my capabilities against the other competition, both for the cameras and for the sponsors. A few more kills and I would be done. I wouldn't have to kill all five, I knew. The arena and the other five would do a bit of my work for me. I estimated that three would be a lot, and maybe I would only have to kill one, if I played my cards right.

But I had traveled quite a long way away from the mountain in my time before the killing of Ten, so it took me another three days before I even reached the foothills, and nothing happened in that time except another drop of bread and meat from Blight and dodging the sight of Aidan and Summer, who seemed to be looking for me.

After two days of carefully searching the hills, sure that Three wouldn't have gone very far up the mountainside, I began to find signs of life. I tracked them back to a cave, where I found the boy from District Three sleeping away his morning, emaciated, in the stone.

"Hello, sunshine," I whispered, squeezing into the cave.

He didn't even wake up in the time it took me to toss the hatchet at his sleeping form. I scrambled up his food supplies, dragged his body out to the mouth for the hovercraft as I heard the cannon, and made it a little ways along the hills when another parachute fell. My four-day rations were inside, as well as a bit of soup. That settled it: Blight was feeding me for my kills. That afternoon, I still had found no one, but I managed to make myself a little shelter in some rocks and curl up, waiting for either the night or another tribute to find me. I felt too out of my element on the hillside and something felt very, very wrong.

It was evening when I heard the cannon, but then I heard something else… a rumbling. A sense of foreboding came over me and I looked up to see the snow tumbling off the mountainside. My heart was pounding in my ears as I gathered up my things and raced down the hill as fast as I could, retreating once more to the trees. I figured if anyone else was on the mountain, they'd either be killed by the avalanche or head for the trees as well.

Sure enough, there was another cannon and I curled up in my hastily constructed shelter that night to see Anya and Titus's faces join the face of the boy from Three in the sky.

"Aidan and Summer," I whispered. "And me."

I didn't sleep that night. There were three of us left, and Aidan and Summer were likely working together. I would need my wits about me in the morning, so I should have slept, but there was always a chance they would find me in the night, and I wasn't going out like Three. I was fighting.

As soon as the sun rose, it started to rain.

I took a deep breath and stretched, not bothering to cover my tracks as I made my way toward the Cornucopia. They were going to find me, or the Gamemakers would make them find me, or me find them. It was the end. Three of us were left, and we were going to end it right then.

Scarcely had I reached the edge of the trees, however, when I was awarded with the sight of my fellow tributes, making their way towards me quickly, knives in hand.

"What, not even a good morning, then?" I shouted, ducking the knife Aidan had sent for my skull and picking it up in my left hand, tossing it back at him, lodging it in his throat.

Summer kept coming toward me as the cannon went off and Aidan's body fell to the ground. She seemed itching for hand-to-hand combat, maybe to ensure that I couldn't duck. Maybe she sensed that I wasn't as comfortable when I wasn't throwing, but either way, I didn't want her to outthink me. If I threw my hatchet at her and missed, I would be weaponless, as my knife was at the bottom of my pack, virtually unused. However, if I let her get too close, I would be out of my element, and I knew she must have been trained in hand-to-hand…. So I ran.

"What's the matter, Scarlett?" she howled after me, rather unintimidating as she was a bit breathless. "Scared?"

"Oh, terrified," I yelled back sarcastically. "And I feel that running away will actually make you give up."

She snorted, knowing I didn't mean a word of it.

When I reached the Cornucopia, though I hesitated. It wasn't a tree. There were no branches, and the high ground would be nice…

Quick as I could manage, I scrambled up the Cornucopia, a bit out of practice at climbing, but still reasonably fit at it. As soon as she reached the base, she looked up at me, frowning, as if trying to determine how my new position changed the dynamic.

"Who killed Nigel, Summer?" I asked. "Who do I owe my gratitude to?"

"Titus," she hissed. "And then he ate him."

I blinked at that, unsure if she actually meant that, or if she was trying to throw me off, but I wasn't about to be shaken from my goal.

"Well, well, too bad he's dead."

And before she could answer my statement, I tossed the hatchet as quickly as I could, watching it lodge into her neck as she moved her head to get out of the way. She fell to the ground, gasping, clutching at her throat, and I felt a bit bad standing there, watching her, waiting for the cannon, so I pulled out my pack and started fishing for my knife.

I didn't need it. She'd already stabbed herself with her own knife by the time I'd pulled it out and the cannon sounded. Claudius Templesmith's voice could be heard ringing throughout the arena.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the victor of the 66th Hunger Games, Scarlett Delannoy!"

I looked around as if expecting an audience to materialize, delirious with exhaustion and hunger. Before I had a chance to realize what exactly had just been announced, I passed out on top of the Cornucopia.

It seemed like it was several days later when I woke. I was in a sterile sort of hospital bed in a room without windows and doors. I shivered and sat up, finding that all the scrapes I'd gotten were healed and the wound on my arm had not only fully healed but had not scarred. I could no longer see my own ribs, I realized, looking down at my naked form, and they had been returning me to my pre-Games form.

With a sigh I got out of bed, put on the tribute outfit lying at the foot, and realized I had won the Hunger Games. I had won. I was going home to District Seven, I would see my niece again. Trish would get to braid my hair and ask me all sorts of questions about the Capitol. Life was going to be like it had always been.

Except life would be nothing like it had always been, because I wasn't the same person anymore. I had watched a little boy die, killed six people, and seen my life flash before my eyes about four times in the course of two and a half weeks.

I made my way out of the room through the wall that opened up and found myself in a long corridor. At the end were Blight, my escort, mine and Chance's stylists and prep teams. Without thinking, I rushed right for Blight's arms and hugged him as tightly as I could.

"I'm alive," I whispered. "I'm alive."

"That you are," he chuckled. "And looking rather pretty, I see. Come on, now, we've got to get you fitted for the ceremonies and such."

My stylist had a sophisticated blue evening gown for me and I wore it to watch the Games on stage with Caesar Flickerman, who seemed very pleased to see me. I knew my reactions were on camera and tried to keep my sweet persona at all times, knowing I was being watched, evaluated, considered, even then. But there was one thing in the whole of the video that threw me for a loop.

Summer had actually meant it when she said Titus had eaten Nigel. In fact, Titus had eaten two people, and was going in to eat Anya the day before I won, but the Gamemakers shocked him, collected her body, and then sent the avalanche to bury him. They hadn't even given him time to recover from being shocked. It was fairly clear to me that they had meant that avalanche to kill him, and if they had gotten me in the process, so be it. I was certainly glad I hadn't been half as high on the mountain.

I thanked Caesar after he announced my live interview the following day, and followed Blight's lead to the dinner party where I thanked my sponsors, which were numerous rich old men, and remained as sweet and humble as possible.

That night, I collapsed in the living room, staring at the floor.

"How are you feeling, Scarlett?" Blight said, sinking into a chair beside me.

"Overwhelmed," I admitted. "A bit nauseous."

"Don't vomit on the carpet. I think the Avoxes have enough to deal with what with Haymitch, and all."

I laughed a bit at that. Haymitch Abernathy, District Twelve Mentor. He was a drunkard, and the idea of him vomiting on a semi-regular basis wasn't at all a strange on.

"I'll do my best," I said. "What did Chance mean, he was wrong about me?"

"I think he realized he shouldn't have been scared of you," Blight said with a shrug. "I think he realized that you weren't some evil demon bent on world domination and making others miserable."

"Is that why he was frightened of me?" I said with a hollow laugh. It seemed like something a much more interesting mind than Chance's would have come up with.

Blight just shrugged and said, "I embellished a bit. Anyway, regardless, Scarlett, you've got a big year ahead of you. Your interview tomorrow is only the beginning. Remember, sweet is who you are now, probably for the rest of your life. Until we get you a replacement, that is. Remember, this winter, we've got the victory tour, and then you'll be coming back and mentoring with me in the summer."

I sighed. I had forgotten, of course, about all of the pageantry involved in the life of a victor.

"Any advice for the tour?" I sighed, stretching out a little bit, taking a sip of the tea the Avox had left for me.

"Be pretty, pick a decent talent, and stay as sweet as you can."

I snorted.

"Right, helpful. What's it like, being a mentor?"

"Well," he sighed, taking a drink of some sort of liquor, "it depends on the mentor and the district and the tributes, but you basically coach a kid or two to their death every year. And sometimes you'll get lucky and they'll win, but mostly they die."

"Thank you, ray of sunshine," I groaned. "You've made me feel so wonderful about my new life."

He gave me an odd sort of look, then shook his head and said, "Good night, Scarlett. Tomorrow, after the interview, I'm going to introduce to you a few other mentors before we go home. Don't forget."

I waved off the comment, sinking into my tea, and enjoying the night.

It didn't take long for the nightmares to begin that night. I pictured my arms being eaten off by Titus while I was still alive, I saw my brothers in the games, Alyson going into the Games as she was. I saw my house burning down, my father wasting away, not convinced I actually won. I saw Trish deciding she hated me because I couldn't save Chance, and all of District Seven turning from me. I saw the spiders that killed Amber crawling across my skin, biting me every few steps they took, causing me to moan in a mix of pain and pleasure as the poison seared through my body.

Then I woke in a sweat, shaking and sopping in the Capitol bed.

I wasn't naïve enough to believe my troubles would be over if I won, certainly. There was bound to be repercussions for spending several weeks fighting for my life against mostly younger kids. Psychologically, nothing was going to be all right about me ever again, but I hadn't realized it would be so bad quite so soon.

After about an hour of trying to go back to sleep I simply turned on the light and sat up, staring at the wall for a while. When I was bored of that, I took the longest shower of my life, washing away all my guilt, all my self-disgust, day-dreaming about seeing my family again, planning out which book I was going to read my brothers first when I got home.

When I finally heard my district escort knocking on the door and telling me it was time to start the day, I turned off the shower, dried myself off, and dressed, knowing that after breakfast I would be changing, getting made up for the Capitol one last time, and spending hours gushing to Caesar Flickerman about my games in the sweetest way I could possibly muster. I was already swallowing the bile back into my throat.