Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, They belong to Suzanne Collins.
Note: Here we are at day ten, and what a lot of action awaits! Just four Tributes left, but that's more than enough for there to be a lot of things going on within the Arena. I think this one has ended up pretty good, and literally all but 200 or so words were written today. I sure have an issue with writing most of these chapters in one day, not that that's a bad thing. Not much to say really except, enjoy! That, and here's the next hint for the 4th lead of The Nameless Chronicles.
Hint #1: This Tribute was aged in the range of 15 and 18 years old.
Hint #2: This Tribute had odds of 15-1, or better.
"Will this rain ever stop? I've already forgotten what the sun looks like," I say very quietly, shivering from how cold I feel from the rainwater soaking my clothes.
It's been a while now, just me stalking Marvel through the forest. He has his spear in hand, and no doubt is looking for me- or maybe Marina? - with no idea that I've been right behind him for at least an hour by now. I'm very quiet, and he's making noise. His own rough steps make it impossible for him to hear me, and with my tribute outfit being the right colour to help my blend into the dark forest, it seems the Gamemakers have accidentally aided my mission on this dark, stormy night. Good thing they decided District Nine would wear bottle green seventy five years ago, right?
Right now, my face, and a lot of my body really, is soaked by the rainstorm. But still, I press onwards in my hunt for Marvel. We've been heading uphill for a while now, and I hear can hear him groaning. Perhaps, like the rest of us, he's starting to feel actual pain now. Maybe he regrets volunteering? No, not likely. I doubt he regrets killing anybody either. Though, do I regret it? ...That's a moral dilemma for when I am out of the Arena, not stuck in it.
"Come on, sit down, take a rest," I mutter. That's what I need here after all, him to stop and take a rest.
After all, that's the time where he is most likely to put down his spear, or at least not be as battle ready as he is now. Running to to him in a face to face fight would be a very bad idea, and I know it. I might be confident in my ability to fight him, and I shall never give up until I am dead… but, the facts are solid. Before we entered the Arena I weighed eighty eight pounds and he weighed one hundred and seventy five pounds, so said the betting board. We've both surely lost weight by now, but he's still bigger than me. And our height has not changed… he's six feet and three inches, while I'm five feet and one inch. I'll need to take him completely off guard, and start stabbing him from behind before he even has the slightest chance to fight back.
Dirty tactics, but what choice do I really have when he's got an edge on me in sheer size? He'd not been trying to kill me at the Feast but he will now. Plus, would I want to do something else when it's worked before? Fighting dirty and attacking before my opponent is ready is what killed Cato. ...And Rue. Maybe Glimmer too, as she was on a high point where she was unable to properly dodge those sharp sickles I threw at her.
It's also what Marvel did to Peeta, attacking from behind.
Maybe, like with Clove, I understand Marvel better than I think I do?
It doesn't matter if I do though, does it? Within an hour, one of us is going to be dead and I'm not going to drop my knife and ask him to spear me. I may be many things, but I'm not suicidal. Though one thing I am is really small, like a twig. He's hungry and clearly not in perfect shape, but he's still bigger than me. A marvel in both name and size. If I've lost more weight so far than he has, maybe he actually is more than double my weight now?
I think we're reaching the top of this slope and getting back to level ground now. The moonlight is shining brighter up here. More importantly, Marvel is stopping. He sits upon a log and drops his bag down. I'm silent in my hiding place behind a tree as I watch him. He's not letting go of the spear.
"Wish there'd be a cannon," he mutters.
Of course, he wants one of the others to die, me among them, without him needing to do anything. Keeps him in good shape for whoever his last opponent would probably be. Perhaps Clove and Marina are fighting to the death right now? It's true really, a cannon could fire at any time. A big part of me hopes it would be Clove's cannon, but I'm not gonna count on it. Really, the way I see it… once Marvel is dead, the most likely end result is that Clove kills Marina and then we have our last showdown in the rain… somewhere. I'd love to be wrong about this, though.
Whatever. I'm looking out at Marvel, and the area behind him. Beyond the rain-clouds and the downpour, a full moon fills the sky and shines down on us. It looks like this is the highest point of a cliff. And with how we just walked up a large slope… a fall would surely be lethal. If not, then it'd level the person who fell basically dead anyway, by their injuries after a while or by Mutts. It'd be the perfect way to kill Marvel quickly… but the idea of such a horrible way to die of he survived the fall, it makes me feel sick.
I force myself to think of Peeta, and how this spoiled, arrogant boy in front of me is the one who killed him with such glee. I force myself to think of every second that I can recall.
"Let's do this," I mutter, my knife gripped firmly in one hand and my walking cane in the other.
I just have to hope my cane won't be knocked over the edge. Crawling my way to wherever the last showdown will happen would be an issue.
Marvel opens his bag of supplies with one hand, the other still holding the spear, and takes out one of the sandwiches we all got. I hear him groaning in pain as he eats it… I guess the taser to his mouth would make eating harder.
"How long until I can win," he groans. "Three more to kill. Can't be long."
Marvel looks around, and seems satisfied he is alone, at least for now, and sets down his spear. Still sounding in pain, he shovels the sandwhich in with both hands. I won't waste this opportunity.
I carefully move towards him little by little, the heavy rain and the thunder covering my light footsteps. It's only moments before I am right behind him and have raised the knife. A stab to the back of his neck, and that's it for Marvel's life and for District One. I take a silent breath ready to stab.
In that instant, the clouds have moved and the moonlight shines brighter. Marvel gasps in alarm. Shit! My shadow, he sees it in front of him! Very clever, Seneca, but it won't be enough!
Marvel acts very fast as he leaps up, but I'm faster. You don't need to have both feet in good condition to kick a spear over the edge of a cliff after all. That was his last one, the only spear left in the Arena. If he wants it, he better go get it.
"I'm here," I say, my knife held firm. "Let's see how you do without your fancy spears."
"I don't need a spear to kill you, and kill you painfully," he says, snarling as he takes out his kukri knife. "You've been a constant issue for the Careers this year. You are really starting to get on my nerves!"
"What, I'm only just starting to? Damn, I'm not trying hard enough," I say, managing to smirk slyly despite my hate for this boy and the rain hitting my face. "Let's go, One."
He does. He lunges, trying to stab me. I'm quick to move back, though it's more of a stumble. Hard to go backwards with this mangled foot and the walking cane after all. Marvel though, he has no such issues as he skids and quickly turns around, making a wide slash in the air a few inches from me. I just stand my ground, looking at him coldly.
"I'm not afraid," I tell him.
"You should be," he says, leering. "Peeta wasn't, and look what happened to him. You should've heard his dying scream… oh wait, you did! What a shame, you couldn't-."
I'll never know how that sentence would have ended, but I don't care to know. A hard kick to his knee from my good foot and a stab at his already injured shoulder. Attacking him while he is talking, simple really. So you want to break me by talking Marvel? Go for it, but nobody said I had to listen!
"You talk too much," I say, leering right back.
"Fine, actions over words then," he spits.
I scream, my nose splattering out blood as he headbutts me right upon it. I lose hold of my knife, still buried into his shoulder. As I'm thrown down to the ground, he yanks it out with a scream. His breath shudders as, Career or not, he's in serious pain. But so I am. It hurts so badly…
"Looks like I have two knives now," he says, none of his usual hamminess in his eyes. Just pure hate. Pure howling hate. "Clove may be the expert with them, but I think I could cut a person up with these. Get ready to d-AAARRRGGH!"
I thought he said he was going to stop talking? I just thrust the flat end of my walking cane right into his crotch. I see blood leaking from that area… did I destroy one of his testicles? I must have done damage, as Marvel has dropped to his knees from the pain, losing his hold on the knives. Now is the time to strike.
I don't waste time with any words. I don't wish to waste the breath I'll need as the night goes on. I just throw myself forth with as much force as I can muster and tackle Marvel down. Left hand to right, I'm punching him in the face nonstop, each punch making his head jerk to the other side. Even with the bruises on his face and the blood dripping amongst my hands, he still manages to laugh.
"What, is that how heavy you are?" he asks, laughing. "You're tiny!"
He thrust a hand forth to catch my right fist. I scream as he clenches his hold to painful levels. I try to punch him right in the jaw with my other fist but he grab my other arm as well. I only manage to send one hard kick at his left leg before he throws me off him, effortlessly despite his pain and I cry out, landing hard on my side. I'm shaking, drenched from the rain and my insides hurting a lot.
"No, no..." I mutter, trying to get myself back up, which is a struggle.
Marvel gasps for breath, for air, clearly worn out from the fight thus far. But tired as he might be, he has two feet that are unharmed and so he has risen up once more. Scowling, he kicks me as hard as he can in the hip. I want to cry, but I will not give him any satisfaction.
"How does it feel, your 'rebellious actions' leading to your worthless death?" he asks, his face red from both anger and blood. "How does it feel, knowing Peeta's death was all the more worthless now that you're going to die too?"
I'm not even listening to him, I'm just trying to think of a way out of this mess. I'm very close to the edge now, and it wouldn't be hard for him to just grab me and send me falling to my death upon the rocks below. After all, compared to Marvel I'm tiny. And in so much pain right now.
He seems to get pissed off at being ignored and grabs my by my hair, throwing my forwards. I scream, feeling a sharp rock on the ground stab into one of my legs. But I can deal with that after I get out of this. If I'm dead, the rock won't be a worry anymore. Nothing will be, as I'd be friggin' dead!
Marvel looms near me, holding his kukri. He has a look of cold satisfaction as he raises the blade up and gets within stabbing range of where I am laying.
"Any regrets?" he asks sharply, just like the knife he holds.
I doubt he'll let me finish any sentence I'd come out with. I simply pull a face, showing him my favourite finger. He seems even more angry now.
"Not the way to treat the Victor of the 74th Hunger Games," he says, cold as ice.
"It's the way to treat a dead guy!" I yell, yanking my taser out and jamming it right into his already damaged crotch.
His screams and howls of pure agony echo in the night.
"Never assume your opponent is unarmed!" I yell, pressing it in deeper.
His screams somehow double in volume. His voice sounds warped and almost inhuman at this point.
Suddenly his screams stop, though he seems to be hardly able to stand or focus. Shit, the battery is dead! And it might not be the only thing about to die. Marvel is staggering, moaning in horrible pain. I may have only seconds to act, if not even less. Otherwise, I'll be a stabbed, bloody corpse upon the mud.
Mud.
Mud!
"Thanks for the mud, Seneca!" I say, grabbing a handful of it and throwing it upwards at Marvel's face. "Anything is a weapon!"
Marvel staggers and trips upon me. I hiss I pain as one of his feet pressed hard onto me. FUCK! Owwww, this guy is heavy! Ow, ow, ow!
But while I'm the one hissing and groaning, he's the one screaming. As I manage to sit up, the rainstorm even worse now as it falls onto my face and makes my skin feel stingy, I see why Marvel is screaming for help. Begging, even. He's holding onto some of the rocks that jutted out at the edge of the cliff, gripping them as though his life depends upon it.
And it does. If he lets go, he'll fall to his death below. Storm or not, a big drop of what looks like maybe fifty feet could kill anybody, or leave them horribly injured. He's stuck, unable to pull himself back onto the platform. Both his spear and his kukri have already fallen off of the edge and down below, and he needs both hands to grip the cliff anyway. He is now defenceless, stuck there as the rain falls, sure to gradually weaken his grip.
He's at my mercy.
"Please, Sickle… please," he says quietly, only terror in his voice. No bravado or confidence left. "I don't want to die. Not like this. Please, help me."
I groan from my own pains, now sitting up properly and looking him in the eyes. Only a gaze of fear looks back at me now.
"Why should I?" I ask him, coldly. "You said it yourself, outliers like me are 'not people, just targets'. Why would I want to help you? You'd only attack me again before the night is over anyway. Just one Victor."
"Sickle, please!" he begs me. I can't help but feel sick in unease at how truly desperate and hopeless he sounds. "You can save me, please! I'll help you. Me and you, we can take down Marina and Clove side by side. They're strong, you know they are. Please..."
I'm silent for a few moments. I grab my walking cane and wearily get to my feet.
"You kill for pleasure. You volunteered, eager to get to the killing. I saw how you tried to intimidate others in the training center. You were very detailed with how you told that Girl from Seven how you would murder her," I say, my gaze firm. I can't back down, I can't let my pity for him take over… "You're only in this situation because you volunteered… for what? Honour, riches from the evil Capitol, and killing untrained kids? There's no glory in that."
"I'm slipping, please!" Marvel screams. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please! Don't kill me..."
I can't help but feel something for him. I can't stop myself feeling this is wrong. But… there's only one Victor, isn't there?
"I won't kill you," I say.
I can see the pure relief and sheer glee in his eyes. It seems almost childlike… creepy.
"I'll let gravity do it," I say, as I grab up my knife.
Instantly, that relief is gone, snatched away. His terror is back, now even greater than before. Now, he knows he is about to die.
"NO! NO! SICKLE, PLEASE!" Marvel screams, wailing.
I can't tell if those are tears, or just the rain. I don't feel comfortable knowing for sure. I'm not even sure if I am strong enough to pull him back up… and even if I was, he'd be back to killing me in a few hours. Maybe he'd even try to drag me down with him?
I turn my back to him, trying not to feel sick and horrified from what I'm doing. I grab up his bag of supplies and walk away, back down the slope. Marvel continues to plead as I leave him to his fate.
It's not long once I'm carefully going down the slope that I hear a shrill scream, and then a loud crack. Even from over here I heard it. That crack must have been the sound of Marvel's spine snapping. I can't hold it back, I puke against a tree.
"...You've been avenged, Peeta," I say quietly.
But as I walk through the pouring rain, I can't help but wonder if Peeta looks at me with a frown from the heavens. I killed the boy who killed him. One way or the other Marvel had to die anyway if I was going to live. So… why do I still feel like he'd be disappointed in me?
You're better than that, that's what I think he might be saying from beyond the curtain of death.
But, am I better than that? Ten days in the Arena have left me unsure. But, three Tributes left. Just two to go, and I may not even have to fight one of them.
...But if there are three left- me, Clove and Marina – then why has there not been a cannon? Did he survive the fall? But, I heard the snapping sound! ...Oh geez, he must be laying bloody and beaten in the rain, his back broken.
I puke again.
I'm shaking and trembling as I lean against a tree.
"Gravity did it, not you," I tell myself, even if it's more or less a lie. "Calm down, and keep going. You're almost done in this place."
I check what Marvel had in his supplies. A half-empty bottle of water which I am quick to drink down, two meat sandwiches which I also eat, an extra spear head which I discard and a bottle of some kind of medicine. It says one gulp and you'll be 'back in action'. I doubt medicine would be poisonous and I'm too tired and beaten to be too cautious, so I gulp down what is left inside the bottle. The label was right, I do feel better.
"What do I do now?" I ponder as I sit down at the base of a tree.
I feel what happens next is inevitable. A bloody showdown against Clove. My only advantage? She's not found me yet, and she may take a few injuries from Marina. Perhaps I could get myself somewhere that I'd stand a better chance of fighting her? But, where?
Of course.
The place that reminded me of home.
The wheat field!
"Now, where is it?" I ponder, thinking as hard as I can about all the layout of the Arena I have seen in the past ten days. "...Yeah. That way. It has to be that way."
But, nothing is attacking me right now. I'm not being forced to move. It's time to get some of my energy back, to give me the best chance I can get. Because Clove is deadly, and this will not be easy. Far from it…
So, I eat and drink. I eat all the food I have left, as with only a few hours left until Victory or death, I will not need it. I drink water too, leaving myself with half a bottle. That will last me until I reach my destination. Once there, I'll drink the rest of it.
It's not exactly a feast or a banquet, but it is so good. So good! I finish it all off after around half an hour and rise to my feet, holding my cane and my knife.
"Time to go," I say to myself.
I'm only walking in the direction of my destiny, be it life or death, for a few minutes before a cannon fires. I pause, and look up at the sky. That confirms it then, only three left.
As it's the end of the Games there is no need to wait until the anthem. They'll display the portrait in the sky right away. I can't stop a shiver – and not one caused by the cold- as I look to the sky.
After all, Marvel's face is staring back at me.
But, I say nothing. There is nothing to say, anymore. I just keep moving.
(Time passes…)
The night isn't over yet, and it won't be until only one is left alive, I bet. I could see it as possible that, if somehow me and Clove couldn't find each other for a whole day, the sun would still not rise… that and the rain would not stop falling. It's gone from uncomfortably hot to nastily cold. It's cool and there is a gale, though not yet howling like I'd expect. But the rain, it's drenched me by now and the cold rainwater has me shivering madly. I have a blanket, true, but is that gonna do any good here? No. In fact, it had become water logged and was slowing me down so I discarded it. Well, except for the part I cut off and tied around my forehead like a bandanna of some kind. Looks cool if you ask me.
It's been an hour since Marvel was confirmed as dead. Since then, no cannons have been fired. Somewhere in the Arena, Marina and Clove are still alive. I'm not sure what they are doing, or where they are exactly, but I'd prefer if they were injured or fighting right now. Harsh to say it, but the more wounded they are the better chance I have since I'm fairly beaten up by now too.
I would be afraid of the idea of them teaming up to kill me, but no, I doubt it. Clove's nuts, she won't listen to Marina if she indeed thought to make that offer. Clove would only stab her, another kill to her name. How many people has she killed now? I've honestly lost count. Amazingly though, it's not the kill record. That girl who beat people to death with a shoe would be hard to top.
"Can't be far now, right?" I mutter as I keep moving. "I passed that giant tree a while back where I first… met Peeta. It was just a bit beyond that, right?"
That tree was massive and, like many others, was made to fall over. It missed me of course, but damn did it come close. I'm not sure if Seneca expects the trees to do anything though, really. Maybe it's just to keep me on edge, and just 'on the off chance' kind off? He wants me dead. He'll need me dead, or he'd get executed most likely. He has very little time to do so now, with only three of us left. Perhaps he expects that Clove will just finish me off? I will admit, if I were watching I would expect that outcome as well.
But also, if I were him I'd not take the risk. He's made mistakes, but surely the Head Gamemakers is watching me right now, just waiting for the best moment to unleash a horrific trap upon me.
"Yeah, that's it, watch me from your cushy control room," I say, coldly. "You're afraid Seneca. You're scared of me Seneca. You'll die if I win, won't you Seneca? Show the world now, show them you and the Capitol fear me and what I have been doing. Prove me right, that all it takes to make your system fall apart is a short fiery girl from Nine. Show your hand, and your fear of me. After all, the world will be watching."
I've set the challenge. Now to see if he will rise to it. If he does nothing, I can reach the wheat field – if it's still accessible that is – and the final showdown will soon begin. Marina is dangerous. Clove is deadly. Tough either way. Or, maybe he will do something? Maybe he'd even succeed, but he's show everybody that he and those who have power are afraid of what a fourteen year old without fear and without filter can do to them and what she can say. I doubt people would forget if the Capitol were forced to take me out in sheer desperation.
"That's it Seneca, show me what you'll do," I say as I move along, step by step. "Even if I die, people won't forget me, will they? Others like me could follow and do what I have done. You thought I've been a naughty girl? What if two Tributes acted like me? What if three did? Or more? Heheheh."
I don't stop, I keep on the move. I need to reach that field soon, before Clove does. Or, I guess, Marina. And if I keep moving, Seneca has less time to act.
But so far, he's not done anything. Not yet anyway. Unless you count the rain getting harder, and that now the wind has begun to really howl. I almost stumble over from the force of it. The rain falls against me now, making my face sting, but I'm not out of this yet. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to keep on moving forwards.
"Almost there. You can't stop me," I mutter.
I see something on the ground, something wrecked but clearly not native to a forest. A parachute. One long opened, some fruit near it covered in bugs that feast on what little may be left to eat on them. It has a number '11' on it. It was Rue's sponsor, the one that led me towards her so I could…
"I'm so sorry," I whisper as I pass the parachute. "I was your enemy, and I'm sorry… but I'll make the true enemy pay for this..."
This was where Rue died, and beyond this place up ahead was where I hurt my arm after Thresh chased me… and that means the field that was once his lair, my current destination, is not far away anymore. I'm getting very close to it. I take a breath.
"I'm ready," I say, trying not to shiver from the rain.
And so, five minutes pass by uneventfully as I keep on my way. Besides the horrible storm, Seneca and the other Gamemakers are not activating any other traps. Well, except one falling tree but is that really notable at all anymore? But there… there it is! The tree I climbed to evade Thresh, the tree that fell and left my arm all crappy. It lays still and toppled, just as it was days ago. The field must be right up ahead.
I almost freeze on the spot when a cannon fires. I keep myself moving, faster now that I am almost there.
It's just me, and one other person left in the Arena. Everybody else is dead. It's one on one. Any second, the dead Tribute will have their face in the sky, and I'll know who I will face-off against for to get out of here.
"Please be Clove, please be Clove, please be Clove," I mutter as, walking along, I look nervously up at the sky.
I wonder why I feel so worried when I see Marina's face looking down at me. Wasn't it always the way it was destined to go, really? Me against Clove. The Outer District Rebel facing off against the Capitol Lapdog Career. The one who catches people off guard from behind against the one who fights upfront and tortures people with knives. I killed her District Partner and she killed mine. I killed Cato on day one… and now, hopefully, I can defeat Clove too on the final day.
Shit, I hope… no, I pray that before she died Marina was able to land a few serious hits onto Clove with that serrated sword she had.
"It's not one on one," I can't help but say. "Well Clove, it's me and you. It's Nine on Two."
It's a few minutes until I see the Hovercraft descend to collect Marina's corpse. I guess Clove wanted another head for her collection and didn't move right away. That's fine, of course, as it gives me more time to reach the wheat field… but you want to know what alarms me?
The Hovercraft is not even two hundred feet away. Clove is near.
"Don't panic, don't freak out. Don't make any mistakes," I tell myself firmly.
I'm just glad I didn't hear Marina's screams, assuming she got the chance to even do that. Perhaps the rainstorm made it impossible to hear her dying cries? Can't believe I'm saying it, but it's a good thing the Gamemakers put on the rain. Hearing Marina possibly being tortured would be awful.
I exit the forest, and there it is! The wheat field, right as it was left… and this time, without the huge guy from District Eleven who would snap me like a twig. And with Clove very close to me, and likely to be driven towards me if she cannot spot me, it seems this wheat field is the location of the 'finale'.
Two small girls with a serious grudge against each other, fighting in a wheat field during a rainstorm… I guess I've heard of worse final battles? I'm just glad the Mutts haven't been released.
"Come on Sickle, be careful and stay alive," I say to myself. It's an order, not a request!
As, under the cover of darkness, I approach the edge of the wheat field it starts to get brighter. Huh… the night is ending. I didn't expect that. Quickly, I gulp down the last of my water and discard my bottle. Good, that'll help. As the sun very slightly rises into early dawn, though not enough to have the sunrays glow upon us, I reach the edge of the wheat field.
"THERE YOU ARE!" I hear a deadly sounding voice scream. Naturally, there is only one person still alive for it to be.
I don't look back, I just throw myself forth into the tall wheat and start crawling forwards through it, quickly. Being small like I am, it won't be a simple matter for Clove to find me in here. I hear the sound of an object flying over me a second or so after I throw myself forth, no doubt one of Clove's knives. That's one more knife gone… how many does she have left now?
I crawl onwards, but soon stay perfectly still. I can hear Clove has charged over, and has started to enter the wheat field.
"Where are you?" she hisses. "I saw you go that way. You can hide, but I'll find you. Five knives, that's all I need to kill you! It only takes one to take you to the ground… and then, hope you've got nothing to do for six hours or so."
She just told me how many knives she has left. Five. Why would she tell me something crucial like that? She must be insane by now, surely! Then again, I don't think Clove was ever completely sane to begin with – was I, actually? - but ten days in the Arena and Cato's death have certainly drive her over the edge and just kept on driving. Me still being alive after all this time, outwitting and escaping her more than once, it can't have been good for her either. It's terrifying, having my final opponent be a Career who intend to torture me for hours.
But, she's not a sane Career and crazy Tributes can be easier to handle than one who thinks logically. They can make mistakes more frequently, and act very randomly. I believe Clove could lose her advantage from her training and bloodlust if she doesn't focus properly… and if she's really gone mad, is focus possible anymore? No… but either way, a knife can still kill and she's deadly with them.
"Ok, carefully does it," I mutter.
I slowly rise, just poking the top of my head above the wheat. Not all the way, just so my eyes are above the top parts of the wheat so I can see where Clove is. She's over there, creeping around with a knife in her hand. Her jacket and her face are splattered in blood that looks very fresh, and I'm not convinced the blood is her own. Seeing Marina's bloody, messy head now attached to her belt with the others, it confirms my thoughts. How awful a death it must have been… and yet, Clove intends to do worse to me, doesn't she?
The heads. Truly the absolute sickest part of these Games this year. I can see them all as she moves slowly along, looking for me. I see Rammy, I see Miller, I see Marina's blood soaked head too… and I have to fight back a choked sob when I see Peeta's head. He deserved better! ...I guess we all deserved better. I'm just glad she didn't get anymore of them. So gross…
The wind blows right at me. Clove turns in an instant, and I duck down. A knife flew where the space between my eyes just was. Four knives left.
"Found you!" she yells.
"Only because the Gamemakers used the wind to help you! Hear me Panem, Seneca Crane is rigging the Hunger Games!" I announce.
Quickly, I'm crawling through the wheat as fast I can go. If Clove catches me, I'm dead! Dead after six hours of torture that is. The thought makes me shiver and want to be sick. But, I hold my tears as I crawl along. Clove is so very near, but she's not charging towards me. Good, she might have lost me again.
Four more knives. Once she throws them all, she'll be left unarmed. That's when I move in for the kill. Unless she has another weapon… I can't assume anything.
"You are a disgrace," I hear her say. "You ruined these Games! You… you ruined them! Blowing up Cato before the countdown was over, you cheated! You tainted the outcome of everything that came afterwards! You… you tainted my victory! Nobody respects Victors of Hunger Games that had cheaters in them!"
Cheating? I would've thought the fact kids are being taken from their homes and butchered for 'entertainment' was the thing to get angry about, but I'm funny like that. The Careers do see these games different than the rest of us though. Perhaps to Clove, what I did was the biggest crime imaginable.
"It was meant to be me and Cato as the final two! Comrades in the pack, making this Arena ours… he was the only person who ever understood me," Clove says, her breath hitching a bit, her voice cracking. "You being here is a mistake! A reward for cheating!"
I think I'm a fair distance from her now. Her raging voice, though loud, seems a distance away. Once again, I rise from the cover of the wheat. Clove is slashing her currently held knife at some wheat, shredding it up.
"Where are you!?" she screams. "I'll kill you, little rat from Nine! In Cato's name!"
I whistle, and drop down out of sight. She yells in anger, a knife sailing over me. Three left now.
"Oh, and mutilating my District Partner and taking pleasure in your kills makes you the good guy here?!" I yell, already crawling once again.
As I crawl, the storm is getting fiercer. The wind howls like numerous wolves. It's loud, and I feel trapped. But so long as Clove is not within stabbing distance, I'll put up with it.
"Don't let her escape!" Clove yells. "She can't get away again!"
Who is she talking to? Nobody else is left alive, except us. But, what's that smell right now? ...Crap, fire!
Carefully, I rise again. Clove isn't looking my way, but in glee at the wall of fire that now surrounds the wheat field. There is truly no escape, not that I intended to run away from this fight. The Gamemakers obeyed her request and have boxed us in. They must think this will help her as it means I cannot flee from her. But the thing is… she cannot flee from me now, either.
The rain is making smoke appear from the fire, and the wind is carrying it around and spreading embers. The whole place is going to set on fire if I don't finish this quickly!
"Seneca must be scared of me if he's openly backing you up now!" I yell, dropping down again.
I scream, the knife hitting my shoulder. It flew above it, not into it, but now the top of my left shoulder is cut, and bleeding. I want to cry so badly, but I won't let them see me sob. Not while the world is watching us fight.
"I see you," Clove says, almost singing the words. "I'm gonna cut you~."
The fire is spreading, and I'm closer to it than Clove is. What are my options? Keep hiding until she throws her last two knives and then try to reach her in time to stab her? Or, try to face her head on? Both lead to death, most likely… what other gear do I have left? I only have this knife, and one other, lesser one still in my backpack.
Backpack.
Perfect.
I scream, my walking cane now on fire. I hurl it away as far as I can – no way can I use it now that it's ablaze too – so, for my life and for Panem, I need to stay standing. I need to walk, and walk fast.
"Come on Sickle, don't be afraid," I tell myself. "The world is watching. But, so is Peeta..."
I imagine the golden boy from Twelve watching me now from the heavens. Cheering for me. Telling me I am safe as long he watches me. It's probably all ridiculous, but perhaps due to my already shattered state, I'm starting to believe it.
It's now or never. Peeta, my thanks and my love to you.
I take a deep breath.
"Come on Nine… or, Sickle, didn't you say it was?" I hear Clove say as she looms near me. She's not far from where I am kneeling amongst the wheat. "Let me hear you scream as I harvest you! I killed a lot of people, and now I'm gonna kill you..."
"No, you won't," I say as I rise to my feet, my knife securely in my pocket and my backpack held in front of me.
Clove yells a gleeful battle cry, letting her fourth knife fly. It strikes into the backpack, staying stuck there. It's hard without my cane, very hard, but I begin to stagger and stumble my way closer to Clove. I see the pure hatred in her eyes. As I briefly glance at the heads on her belt, I return that with a glare full of my own howling hate. For her, for the Games, for the Capitol itself.
I'm getting near to her now, not taking my eyes off of her. She could throw that knife any second. She's crazy, totally insane, I see it in her eyes… yet, she's still clinging onto a tiny bit of focus.
A low blow, but it's her or me.
"Guess what? In the Arena event I found a Cato Mutt, and I killed it! I killed Cato twice!" I sneer.
I feel bad for the low blow, but Clove screams out a howl of fury. A roar, even. Her eyes crazy in rage and her face red, and not only from Marina's blood splattered upon her, she throws her fifth – and final – knife forwards. I'm in great pain now, so very tired and wounded, but I block the knife with my backpack and keep staggering towards her.
"You think you're so tough," she says with a snarl. "But try this…"
Clove reaches into her jacket, and for a moment I'm afraid she has something else in there be it a knife or a bigger weapon. With the fires spreading and the smoke getting thicker above us, it could be all she needs to keep the battle going. The embers are landing upon me more than her after all.
But suddenly she's the one afraid. She's run out of knives to throw.
"What?! Where are they?" she squeals. "Where are my knives?! I know I had more! Where are th-ack!"
I'm still balancing, if only just, and while I have been very slow her panicking and lack of attention has allowed me to close the gap between us. I just swung the backpack right against her face as hard as I could. Not to kill her, just to stun her for a moment. Sure enough, Clove staggers and seems disorientated.
It's time to end this.
Without a word – I have nothing to say right now – I have my knife in my hand and slash her throat with it. One clean slash is all it takes for the blood to spill out and, choking and gasping, for Clove to fall. She collapses with a thud upon the wheat, making horrible coughing and choking sounds. The wound is severe and the blood leaking out of her fast… I'm not an expert, but I think she'll bleed out in probably not even three minutes. No weapons, and this wound…
...I've won.
I can only imagine the chaos in the Gamemakers control room, the fact I've won despite their best efforts to kill me. Snow will be furious, Seneca will now be scared, knowing he will die. But more than that, all eyes are on me. I bet they are thinking just one thing now.
What will she do?
I stand above Clove, looking down at her. I'm close to her, because they could still send a trap or something at me and fix her up. I want to be sure that if they try this, they'd be sure to hit Clove as well. No Victor would really cause them trouble. Not that me being their Victor is much better, right?
She gasps and gags, dying fast. She looks up at me and though I doubt she is able to really pay attention to anything now, I notice something.
Her eyes. Unlike the rage and hate that filled them in our battle… now that the dust has settled, all that remains is pure fear. Just like Marvel only a few hours ago. Unlike him though, I know the water by her eyes… it's not rain. She's crying.
The fire has stopped and the rainstorm has come to an end. As the sun rises, basking the wheat field in the gleaming glow of the sunrise, it's clear my time in this Arena is over. Step one of the plan is finished. Or, it will be once Clove's cannon fires any minute now.
As Clove looks up at me in terror, hardly able to breath from her bloodied throat wound, my grip upon my knife tightens. I'm sure right now everybody, well everybody in the Capitol at least, is leaning towards their TV screens, eagerly awaiting me to start cutting her up or at least landing a final, painful stab to end the Games. Violence is still violence to them, no matter who does it.
I'm shaking, my breathing deep. I only feel disgusted as I look at the heads of fallen Tributes. Clove hurt them horribly. It would be so easy. So satisfying…
It'd be what they want, and I've never made it a habit to give the Capitol what they ask for, have I?
"Are you watching me…?" I ask quietly to the sky, my temper rising.
I pause as I raise up my arms.
"I SAID, ARE YOU WATCHING ME?!" I roar out. "I am your Champion! I'm the last one! I am Sickle Wheatly! Nothing... nothing the Gamemakers used to try and kill me worked. I have survived! You sick, sick bastards!"
I'm seething and dazed a little as I kneel down beside Clove. She's still hanging in there, if only barely. The blood is everywhere now. I look at her, and I raise the knife.
I toss it away.
"Sorry, but I've never given the Capitol what it demands and expects," I say. "I refuse to give you the nasty, bloody end to Clove that you want so badly. Just sit there, be quiet and let her final minutes pass. Thank you."
And so, I sit. I sit here in the light of the sunrise beside Clove, making no move to attack her. By now there is clearly no way she is going to be able to do anything, laying beaten and bloody and without any weapons. The battle is over and while the war is not yet won, a moment of relief can start.
Clove is still choking a bit, but most of the sounds she was making have vanished. I take her hand, and just talk. Say how the sunrise is beautiful and a wonder thing to see, talk about the gentle softness of the wheat field and how it's a great place to… fall asleep. Talk about how Cato is waiting for her, and she'll be back with her friend soon. When I mention this, just a little of the pain and fear in her eyes seems to go away.
The weapons are discarded, and only gentle words remain. It's the biggest middle finger I could give to the Capitol right now. My enemy, my nemesis, the Tribute that everybody, myself included, expected to face me in a bloody and violent final battle… I am treating her with mercy as she dies.
"I'm sorry about Cato," I say when her breathing has just about stopped.
I can't tell if she heard that or not, but I'd like to think she knew I felt some regret.
But the cannon fires, so I won't ever know for sure. All I know is Clove is dead. Just like the Tributes who have their heads upon her belt.
"May all twenty three rest in peace," I mumble.
I rise to my feet and spread out my arms. I stumble a bit from this, but I manage to find my balance and bask in the warm rays of the morning sun. I'm battered. I'm in pain. I'm missing chunks of my left foot. I'm going to have trauma from all of this.
I'm victorious.
I can't help but let out a relieved laugh, so glad it's all over. I look down at Clove, and at Rammy, Marina, Miller… and Peeta. Just one last time. I sadly smile.
As I turn around and stumble a step forwards - almost faceplanted there - I hear the final announcement of the Hunger Games begin. There they are, the trumpets that sound when a Victor has been announced.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, MAY I PRESENT TO YOU THE VICTOR OF THE SEVENTY FOURTH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES… SICKLE WHEATLY."
There is no joy or grandness in Claudius' voice like there normally would be, not that I feel very surprised of course. Nobody wanted me to win. Nobody Pro-Capitol at least. I'm sure those who dream of a Free Panem, like me, and who wish to see the Capitol burn… they will be happy. I can only imagine the absolute fury President Snow must feel right now. A white beard, but a red face I bet.
But I'll worry about phase two of the plan tomorrow. Until then, I think I've earned a few hours of rest. Rest where I won't need to worry about being cut in my sleep or waking to a Mutt snarling in my face.
"Time to get out of here," I say, yawning. Geez, I am so tired all of a sudden…
I hear engines and the wheat around me is getting blown about. From above, I see the hovercraft descending to get me out of here. As it comes to a hovering stop above me, a ladder descends from it and drops down beside me. I can see from above people gesture for me to get in. They all seem unhappy. I can't help but wearily giggle at this.
"If they're unhappy now, they've seen nothing yet," I say to myself.
I reach to take hold of the ladder. The electric current freezes me to it, and the ladder begins to rise once more, taking me out of the Arena. I'm soon safely inside the hovercraft, and once they collect Clove's corpse – and the heads… - we're on the way. I flop myself back onto a sofa, finally letting out a massive sigh of relief.
"Finally, the Games are over," I say, feeling lots of sudden fatigue. I guess my adrenaline is running out. "Hey, uh, anybody got a cola for me or something?"
Somebody wordless passes me my desired drink. I smile at the sight of the delicious fizzy drink I grew to love back in the training center.
"...Drink some of it and prove to me it is not poisonous," I quickly add.
The hovercraft crew member looks annoyed, but nonetheless sips some. Well, proof enough to me.
"To Panem," I say, holding up my drink in a tired toast before I chug it all down, belching a little. "Worth the ten days in the Arena for that drink alone."
As the hovercraft exits the Arena and takes to the sky, I settle down and relax. I'm about ready to take a nice, long nap, and I think I've earned it. But then somebody moves forth with a syringe of some sort. Shit…
"We need to knock you out,' says the women. "We'll fix up all of your wounds and get you looking as you did before you were Launched."
"Let's get it over with then," I say, shrugging as I hold out my arm. I know I do not have a choice.
The injection is quick and clean, and in moments I feel myself fall back onto the sofa, drifting off into a long, empty slumber. In my last moments of being conscious, if only just, I feel myself being moved onto what I think may be a stretcher and carried along.
"This girl is a serious problem," somebody says, sounding afraid.
At this, I lightly smile before I finally drift away from the waking world, for now.
I sure am.
END OF DAY 10…
END OF THE SEVENTY FOURTH ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES...
VICTOR
Sickle (District 9 Female)
THE FALLEN
2nd- Clove (District 2 Female)- Throat slashed with a knife, by Sickle.
3rd- Marina (District 4 Female)- Cut up and stabbed in the face repeatedly by Clove.
4th- Marvel (District 1 Male)- Fell off a cliff and broke his spine.
5th- Sable (District 10 Female)- Poisoned with a blow-gun dart, by Tamora.
6th- Tamora (District 6 Female)- Cleaved with a serrated sword, by Marina.
7th- Peeta (District 12 Male)- Speared in the heart, by Marvel.
8th- Miller (District 9 Male)- Cut apart and sliced with a knife, and finished with a stab to the throat, by Clove.
9th- Callico (District 8 Male)- Incinerated in a forest fire.
10th- Thresh (District 11 Male)- Blown apart by tracker detonation.
11th- Rammy (District 10 Male)- Beaten up by the Career Pack, and stabbed repeatedly in the chest by Clove.
12th- Rue (District 11 Female)- Stabbed in the back by Sickle
13th- Glimmer (District 1 Female)- Broke neck after falling off the Cornucopia
14th- Cinder (District 5 Female)- Impaled herself on Marvel's spear, and then stabbed in the heart by Clove.
15th- Urchin (District 4 Male)- Cleaved with a serrated sword by Marina, and then stabbed repeatedly by Clove.
16th- Katniss (District 12 Female)- Two knives thrown into her back by Clove.
17th- Weldar (District 3 Male)- Strangled and asphyxiated by Tamora.
18th- Jason (District 6 Male)- Stabbed with a Kukri and then stabbed in the gut by a spear, by Marvel.
19th- Wood (District 7 Male)- Throat slashed with a large cleaver by Glimmer.
20th- Nettle (District 7 Female)- Stabbed repeatedly by Clove.
21st- Gadget (District 3 Female)- Struck in the skull with an axe by Marina.
22nd- Lacey (District 8 Female)- Impaled with a spear by Marvel.
23rd- Sparky (District 5 Male)- Knife thrown between the eyes by Clove.
24th- Cato (District 2 Male)- Mines detonated by Sickle before the countdown was over.
TRIBUTE NOTES
Marvel: I think at this point, across the three stories right now that cover the 74th Games through the eyes of Urchin, Gadget and Sickle, he is overall the highest ranked Tribute currently. Given his death in this timeline, I guess that's a consolation? So, I think Marvel played a fairly strong role as the secondary antagonist of the story. Skilled, aggressive, several kills to his name and very arrogant, but while Clove was the most unhinged Tribute, the most dangerous and with a very personal grudge upon Sickle, Marvel was more the straight man, somewhat. Arrogant as they come but with more grounding in logic and reality, and with his head in the Games, he didn't play the same role that Clove did. I think people expected Clove would be the one to kill Peeta, but nope, Marvel was the one to do it. As we know per canon resources, he's very deadly from a range with those spears. I think his death here can make it possible to pity him like the rest of the fallen with how he broke down upon losing the fight, but it was like Sickle said: only one Victor… in this timeline anyway.
Marina: I think she had a fairly strong role as well in this tale. After being fairly minor in the other two 74th Games stories thus far I think here was where she broke out a lot more. And boy, what a conga line of pain and trauma it was for this girl here. All she ever wanted is to get home and get back to the life she had, intending to be pragmatic in how she did it… instead joining the Careers backfires when she is forced to kill, almost, her small District Partner. Then the toxic rain leaves her skin a raw, burning red for days. And then the punji stick trap happens, ending with her being killed by the one who forced her to kill Urchin days prior. Not a happy story for Marina, and little by little she was losing her mind, like Clove. Compared to when she first appeared, by the end she was a shadow of who she used to be. A downward spiral kind of arc, and I think it worked out pretty well. Not really a villain I'd say. In the end Marina just wanted to get out and go home, and fell apart in the process, dying at the near last hurdle.
Clove: The overall Main Antagonist of the story, and I think she was a hit here. As we know, Clove is deadly skilled with knives and is somewhat unhinged even before the Games actually begin. As a Career I head-canon she would have a respect for the 'integrity' of the Games and how they are supposed to be played a specific ways, and I also believe the idea of her and Cato being very close. So, combine Sickle basically cheating with Cato being blown to bits as a direct result of this and you have one extremely angry Career gradually losing her sanity and becoming more and more of a dangerous killer out for blood. Indeed, she had a huge kill count with Miller among them, and then there was her habit of using heads as trophies really showed she'd jumped off of the deep end. I think she was a good antagonist to oppose Sickle, and in the end rather than undergoing torture... she gets a fairly peaceful death. Not sure if it's what people expected or not but I think it was a good scene. Clove running out of knives and being slashed when she was panicking may be a somewhat simple way for Sickle to beat her, but Clove is deadly with knives… and when taken off guard, with no time to throw a knife or with no weapon in hand, I can imagine she'd be easier to take out, being the smallest Career. Another death for Sickle to have upon her mind, and overall a hopefully well written antagonist as it appears reception on her has been positive.
Notes on Sickle herself will come at the end of the story. After all… it's not over just yet.