I've been writing so much. And Spring Break starts next week, so I will publish a whole lot. But as a rule, I don't publish the next chapter until I get at least four reviews for the most recent one because I'm greedy. So if you review, I will post.

Bloodbath

(FINNICK)

I wake up in Johanna's bed at the Training Center. She's still asleep and facing away from me. At first, I'm confused. But then the events of last night come rushing to the surface. I curse aloud and sit straight up. I toss off the sheets and pull on my suit.

There are no words to describe the guilt that immediately floods me. What did I do? Am I an idiot, or a complete moron? Or both?

One part of my brain is telling me, you warned Annie before you two got involved. She knew it was coming – you both did. The other half of my brain is saying things to me that should never be repeated in polite company.

Instead of going to my room, I head straight to the Observation Room. There are already people there: that morphling addict Reselda, Cashmere, Gloss, Enobaria, and Orion. None of them seem to mind that I'm in the same clothes as yesterday. But they all assume I was with a patron last night, or they simply don't care.

I lean as far back in my seat as I can go and start rapidly tapping my foot on the ground.

"Someone's nervous this morning," says Enobaria.

"He should be," Orion says. "Pluto is practically the winner already."

I snort. "You don't know Dodge. They'll probably end up killing themselves," I mutter.

Within the next fifteen minutes, the other mentors and victors trickle in. Johanna comes in last of all. She sits at the very front of the room and doesn't acknowledge me. Good old Johanna.

The television turns itself on at exactly ten o'clock. "Hello ladies and gentlemen and welcome to the Seventy-first Hunger Games!" Claudius Templesmith bellows.

The cameras cut to the arena, where the tributes' plates are rising. The arena itself looks sort of like a desert. There are tall grasses in one direction, an empty plain in another, and a scattering of crooked trees all around.

When the buzzer goes off, all tributes surge forward to the Cornucopia. Pluto – a black-haired boy with crazy eyes – seizes the female from ten and snaps her neck. "Woo!" he shouts, letting her body fall to the floor. He keeps moving.

The girl from 1, Golden, gets her hands on a spear and tosses it at the male from 12. It lands squarely in his chest.

Dodge arrives at the Cornucopia next. He grabs two swords. Before he gets the chance to start fighting, the girl from 5 grabs Pearl and slits her throat. Dodge shouts in anger and launches himself at her. He crosses his swords in an X-pattern on her throat. Then he slices, and her head is almost completely removed from her body – almost.

Sky takes on the boy from 7 in hand-to-hand combat. Sky wins it after strangling the boy with his belt.

Pluto goes absolutely insane. He stabs two people, but not fatally. He kills another person by sticking a knife in her temple. He's vicious. And the crowd absolutely loves him for it. I can tell right off the bat that he'll win, or at least rank higher-up.

In the end, Golden loses an eye and twelve tributes are dead. Dodge survives, but Pearl is dead. He earned extra sponsorship points from home for avenging her. He doesn't need anything right now, so I decide to save up the points until he does.

Later that night, I'm in my room with my patron for the evening. Her name is Deandra, and this will be our third and last get-together because of Snow's new one-per-customer rule. I find that funny because she's Snow's personal assistant.

Deandra comes at exactly nine o'clock. She slams the door shut behind her. She looks out of breath.

I'm sitting on the bed, legs stretched out in front of my and ankles crossed. "Do you have anything interesting for me?" I ask.

Deandra laughs and walks over to me. She reaches into her massive bag and pulls out a crinkled piece of paper. "I'm not really sure what it is, but I thought it might interest you."

I take the paper from her hand as she lights a cigarette. "You know for someone who organizes Snow's personal life, meetings, and baby-eatings, you are really just clueless."

She makes a slightly-amused snorting sort of noise. "Ouch." She takes a long drag of her cigarette. I pull out a cigarette of my own. "Need a light?" she asks.

I set my cigarette in the corner of my mouth. Deandra presses the end of hers to mine to light it. "Thanks," I mutter. The paper is stained with ink blots when I open it.

"What is it?" asks Deandra.

"Some kind of list . . ." I say. There are names on it, maybe ten of them. But they're all crossed out. As I study them, I notice some of them are familiar.

Ezra Baron

Ezra? Like the Ezra I saw Snow kill?

"Finnick? Are you ready?" Deandra asks.

"Yeah, one second," I say.

The last name on the paper is what really catches my eye.

Alecta Saurel

This is Snow's list of people to kill. But if Alecta is on it, why aren't I?

And then I understand. Snow used me. He couldn't possibly have wanted to kill me – I'm too valuable and there would be too many unanswered questions. He gave me the poison, knowing that I would give it to Alecta.

I did his dirty work without knowing it. What else have I done for him?

But here's the real question – how did he know I had the antidote?