Victor

Troy's body didn't last long in the tree. There was a second crack and his limp figure fell to the forest floor; Darian's expression matched Kelsa's as the two of them watched. The air seemed heavier, weighed down with death, or maybe it was just the silence that closed in around them.

Neither spoke a word for a few moments.

"We need to leave." He said, feeling as if that's all he had been saying since the games began. No place was safe. Even when he hid, he was found. When he hunted, he was defeated. There was no way to win the games.

Kelsa nodded in agreement, but didn't move. He knew why. The sight of their fallen friend was a reminder that their plan of action… winning the games...was not as simple as they had believed it to be.

Their hope died with Troy.

Darian grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her away from his body. "Kelsa… come on. We can't stay here, Marcus could be anywhere."

As he mentioned Marcus, the shock of Troy's death seemed to peel back and allow Darian a moment of clarity. Where was Marcus? He and Kelsa had stood there, open targets for the picking, yet nothing had happened. Darian took a step closer to the tree and noticed it was actually a trap that had claimed Troy's life, not a person. Someone, and he suspected who, had had the time to make a trap and Troy had walked right into it.

The branch that had struck Troy through his head was still a bloodied mess as Darian inspected it. "It's genius…" He muttered.

Kelsa joined him a second later. "He died by accident?" Her tone indicated something like relief.

"Better than being killed off by Marcus, I suppose." He cleared his throat and bent down beside Troy's body, taking extra precaution to not touch his body, and grabbed the few weapons that were visible.

Kelsa bent down as well and ran her hand through Troy's hair.

Darian gave her a moment, backing away to the tree. Leaning against it, he found a place for the newfound weapons and waited. As he looked down, noticed that he was a mere nudge of his foot away from a pile of shit. Making a face, he swiftly moved away from that certain area.

"Should we bury him?" Kelsa asked.

He shrugged. "I really don't think we have time now, but after we get Marcus," He paused, thinking about that possibility without Troy in the mix, "We will come back for him."

The reality of Troy not being around anymore hadn't hit him just yet. He knew Troy was dead, he was out of the equation, but that's all he could process. He had lost a strong ally and their chances of survival lessened. His eyes moved to Kelsa. She was what he had left.

So far, he had done a shit job of protecting anyone, but Kelsa was different.

Darian and Kelsa had been friends for five years. She was his best friend, the kind that lived far away, but always seemed above the rest. He would die for her and, more importantly, he would kill for her. He would very well have to. If it came down to it, no, when it came down to it, Darian would do whatever he could to keep Kelsa alive. He would do for her what he couldn't for the rest.

"DARIAN!"

Kelsa shoved him out of nowhere and Darian went sprawling to the forest floor. His reflexes were too slow to keep his face from hitting the dirt. The small hit to his head kept him down a spare second and it took him that long to re-center his vision.

Kelsa was on her knees, her body shaking, and one arm limp to its side. Her position was awkward and he was about to ask what happened when he noticed the villainous figure of Marcus standing some feet back behind Kelsa. She swayed a touch and Darian rushed to catch her before she fell forward. As she slumped against his chest, Darian noticed the ax protruding from her right shoulder blade.

A wave of dread overcame him and he was instantly consumed by it. His arms snaked around her body and he pulled her close against him. "Kelsa…"

She moved her head to the side and pressed her face into his chest. "He was there…" Her voice was faint as she spoke. "I couldn't let you die…"

A roar erupted from Marcus' throat. "She wasn't supposed to die," He spat.

Darian glanced at Marcus, confusion passing over his features, but he said nothing. Marcus looked absolutely unhinged. His face was sunken, eyes had dark circles under them, skin pale. It seemed like he hadn't eaten or slept in days. Darian wondered briefly if this was how he had looked that night by the fire, or if this was a more recent state.

Kelsa's body was getting colder and Darian's hands were soaked in her blood as it fell from the wound in her shoulder, but he didn't let go. He couldn't. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't move his body a centimeter. Darian met her eyes, a smile crossed her face, but no words were said. What could he say? There were no words for that moment.

"The ax was going for you, it was supposed to hit you." Marcus continued, his tone darkening as he spoke. "This whole time, I've been looking for you, Darian Hale. It was your father who started this… I'll end it."

Darian ran a hand down Kelsa's face and kissed her sweaty forehead. While he heard Marcus, he wouldn't take his eyes off Kelsa. While he knew the guilt would floor him later, for now he wanted to make sure it was he she saw in her final moments and not the forest, nor Troy, nor Marcus. Her hand squeezed his side weakly, and a smile crossed her face.

"I've been ending it this whole time. I collected the innocent. I've been going after the guilty. THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED!" Marcus was shouting, and Darian had a feeling it wasn't exactly at him anymore.

Kelsa's breathing was labored, and something about the way her eyes looked, Darian knew she wouldn't be with him much longer. Surprisingly, she spoke. "Darian… you have to win… you have to beat him."

"I'M HERE! I DID IT!" Marcus screamed.

He had to support more of her weight in his arms, and the burn of his stiff muscles started to return to him, but his attention was on her. She seemed as if she had more to say, but he never heard it. Her body relaxed, grip loosened from his shirt, and her head rolled to the side.

Darian watched Kelsa slip away.

"I'm sorry," He whispered, squeezing her body hard against his.

Marcus was silent now.

Everything was silent.

A strange heat radiated throughout Darian's veins, its origins unknown. He clenched his fists tight, balling in her bloodied shirt with them and took a few deep breaths. Beat him she had said. His threshold for loss had been crossed, and yet somehow the fire within only seemed to grow within him. He placed Kelsa on the ground gently, keeping her nicely on her side in a way that seemed so natural for her.

His blood pumped harder, his breathing following suit. Hate like fire was all-consuming and what he thought he had lost, he retrieved from the very depths of him where it had been buried.

Darian snapped.

He yanked the ax from Kelsa's body and stood up, his muscles contracting at his nerve's command. He felt strong. He felt fearless. In a way, he felt nothing but the fire that was now untamed within him.

"You wanted me. Here I am."

There would be no more running. No more hiding. This would end here. The games would end with him, or Marcus. Darian would be damned if he didn't bring Marcus with him upon his descent.

Marcus' expression was that of a hunter. He had always been the hunter. Darian knew he had control and the games had more than proven his intelligence. As his adversary sized up the situation, Darian was pleased to find he wasn't running either. Marcus would pay in any way Darian could hand out punishment.

Before another breath passed between his lips, Darian was in a full sprint towards Marcus, ax in hand. The more primitive parts of him were in control and out for blood. At the last second, Marcus stepped out of the way and Darian went running still, stopping a near inch from the tree behind him. Darian turned and swung the ax wildly, weapons clashed and Darian lost his balance causing him to stumble off to the side.

"There's no one left to protect you!" Marcus shouted. "No one left for you to hide behind…"

Darian caught his balance and looked to the face of his enemy. Marcus was right. There was no one left, and absolutely nothing left to lose.

Marcus struck first this time, and the edge of his blade nicked Darian on the shoulder as he tried to dodge. He struck another tree as a second swipe of the blade took him further to the side and a quick decision was made that he had to get out of the trees. Not only were they clearly to Marcus' advantage, Darian had no idea where the other traps were if there were others.

He pushed back against his attacker and drew the fight more to the tree line with the intention of getting the two of them to the clearing. The two were equals, somehow, and Darian had no idea if that were due to the fact that they both were at their wits ends, or if Marcus wasn't as intimidating as he first seemed.

The break of the clearing gave Darian the opportunity to step back, out of Marcus' reach. He was breathing heavily, as was Marcus. They stared at each other brief moment before Marcus charged again. Darian backed up, clumsy with his retreat, and tripped over god-knows-what.

He fell back onto the wet cold ground and cried out as a sharp pain shot through his body. He reached for his leg and saw his hand was red at the touch. Stupidly, the dagger in his pocket had gone straight through the fabric of his pants and into his leg.

"Fuck…" He groaned.

There was a chuckle from where Marcus stood. "Ouch." He closed the space between them in a couple strides and jumped on top of Darian, his weapon drawn and ready.

Darian had barely a moment to get an arm up to keep the blade from sinking into his chest. Kelsa's face flashed in the back of his mind, sparking his rage, and the desire to live, no, the desire to kill took over once more. He reached for the ax, hoping it was close by.

"You are worse than us," Darian said, his eyes shooting daggers into Marcus', "We just wanted a better life, and you killed us for it."

Marcus was thrown off by his words, but he added his free hand to the blade and started pushing down harder. The point of the blade bit his skin and, miraculously, Darian grabbed hold of the ax handle. He swung it against the first place he could reach, which happened to be Marcus's hip.

Marcus swore and let go of his hold on the blade, releasing Darian from its impending threat. He shoved Marcus off him, reached into his pocket, pulled the dagger from his leg and pocket, and got as best a grip on it as he could with a bloodied hand. Marcus wouldn't be leaving the clearing alive. Darian would kill him outright if he even tried.

He could read Marcus' expression as his bloodied body shifted to find the ax, and the two lunged for it, each getting a hand on it. Marcus kneed Darian's injured leg and, in reaction, Darian let go of the ax. A second later the ax was swinging down on him, but the will to live… to end this… fueled his movements.

The ax struck Darian's arm, Darian stabbed blindly, but harshly, and the dagger embedded itself in Marcus' chest. The boy from seven fell to his back, his breath heavy. The swell of his rage circled his heart, and head, in victory. This was it.

Darian felt no pain as he pushed himself to his knees. His whole body was shaking, but from what he couldn't pinpoint. In that moment he was nothing but the predator, the hunter. He picked up the ax with his good arm and turned it so the blunt end was facing Marcus. Darian spit in his face and Marcus knew it was over.

"For Kelsa."

He brought the ax down with every ounce of strength, every bit of rage, and smashed Marcus' skull in. And once he started, it was hard to stop, every last thing he had neglected to feel, had neglected to think, came pouring out of him in the form utter violence. It was all he had left.

The hatred hadn't left him, it had just bottled up into a deadly and explosive final act of self.

One swing took him sideways, and he fell, unable to keep his balance. Spots clouded his vision, the pain set in, and for the first time in a while, he was able to feel.

Darian cried. His cries turned to sobs until there was nothing left about him that was conscious.