And there's no remedy for memory your face is,
Like a melody, it won't leave my head,
Your soul is haunting me and telling me,
That everything is fine,
But I wish I was dead.
Everytime I close my eyes -
It's like a dark paradise.
No one compares to you,
I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side,
Everytime I close my eyes,
It's like a dark paradise.
No one compares to you.
Andromeda Lynx.
She turns around, looking like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide and terrified. She stops as we stride over to her, freezes on the spot. A little part of me feels guilty, it's like her district partner all over again, pinned up against a wall and being threatened by us. Without a weapon and without a clue.
"Stupid girl," Beauty sneers. "You're practically lining up to jump on our weapon. Do you want that? Caspian, hand me your sword, lets see if the little girl wants to jump on it."
Caspian doesn't move, but when I look at him, I can see the tension in his jaw.
Eight lets out a little, hollowed gasp, before snapping her eyes back and forth. I follow her track, and whilst she looks trapped, anything could happen right now. In the corner is a door, but I don't even know if anyone can see it, especially her with her one eye.
"Caspian, I said, hand me your sword."
"No," Caspian snaps back. "You can't boss me around."
Beauty spins around, clenching her fists and swiping her head to loosen her blonde curls. "Excuse me? You do as I say."
"I don't do anything you say," Caspian scoffs. "Logan is our leader, probably the only one I would follow. Misty, sure, Andromeda, sure. You and Hollis? I don't think so."
She strides forward, no doubt ready to attack Caspian like she did with Misty, but Misty steps in front, arms crossed over her chest.
"He's right, you know. Logan's our leader. I'm pretty sure no-one ever chose you."
"At least she's capable," Hollis cuts in. "Logan is pathetic. We need an actual leader who kills, not someone who cries when they might have to attack."
Hollis looks at me after, cocky grin in place, as if waiting for my recognition or congratulations. I shake my head, because nothing is funny about sticking up for Beauty. Logan's our leader, and frankly, we should have respected that, rather than trying to put him down and knock him off his spot. Beauty thumps her finger into Misty's chest, face a mask of anger.
"You don't say anything, nothing, I warned you that. I'm taking leadership and you need to deal with that."
Misty smirks. "I can do what I want. I'm nobody's play thing... Unlike certain people around here."
Caspian laughs victoriously, clapping his hands together in a mocking, slow pattern. And whilst everyone happens, I see Eight, looking from the corner of her eyes at the door, encased in darkness. She notices me, freezes, but somehow, a part of me manages to nod my head. She mimes me a 'thank you', before sliding in secret and no-one is none the wiser. I couldn't have protected the boy from Eight, but I could his partner. I don't know her, and it would look stupid to anyone, but a torturous murder is just plain wrong. And if she stayed, that's what she would have got.
"Do you know what, I'm sick of this!" Beauty screams.
It doesn't even take a moment for her to lash out. She flies forward, throwing her bow and arrows down angrily, before pouncing on Misty, knocking her to the ground. Her fist flies up, landing on the side of Misty's face. Caspian winces in pain, but is quick to grab Beauty by her shoulders, hauling her off and flinging, like no more than a puppet, against the wall. She bounces off like a ball, and brings out her hand quickly and slapping Caspian across the face.
Logan stands there, petrified, whilst Hollis too, joins in.
He rushes forward, thrusting his palms out against Caspian and knocking him to the ground. Misty tries to get up, but Hollis delivers a strong kick to her stomach, causing her to cry in pain and then, Caspian joining in, though he doesn't get touched. Beauty joins the assault, also kicking her boot into Misty's stomach. Both of Four lay there, breathing heavily and ragged, curled up on the floor, clearly in a lot of pain.
"Thanks, Hollis." Beauty pats his shoulder.
A tinge of jealousy sparks in me. Not for that, Hollis can go screw himself, but for her thinking she can do what she wants, like some shepard leading her oh so dumb sheep around. Not me. I'm nobody's follower.
"Now, I think the alliance is over," Beauty pouts mockingly down at the pair, sickening me. "Four is out. Hollis, pass me my arrows. I feel like carving a little present on our ex-allies. Brand them so they know not to mess with me."
He looks at me, pity in his eyes, but I scoff. He bends to pick them up, but I kick them away bitterly, letting the arrows clang against the wall and roll haphazardly around the concrete flooring.
"Andromeda, don't be like this." Hollis whispers.
I walk over to Caspian and Misty, standing firmly by their lying forms until they rise sheepishly. A part of me feels like I'm doing something wrong. But I know I'm not. In fact, I'm doing the right thing, because right now, if Demetria and Sterling were watching this at home, they'd want me to do this. And for them, I have too.
"If Four is out, so am I. I'd rather be with decent people than airheads and sheep," I look to Beauty, jerking a finger at her accusingly. "Come after us, you'll regret it. Your aim might be terrible, but I never, ever miss my target. And your eyes are just so pretty. I'd hate to see you without one, a knife in it's place. So don't threaten me or anything. Just don't follow unless you feel like becoming blind until you bleed to death in the darkness."
"Andi, please," Hollis pleads. "Stay. Stay with me."
I shake my head. "No can do, Hollis. This just isn't worth it. You aren't worth it."
With that, Caspian slings Misty's arm over his shoulder, helping her out as we walk away down the hall, split completely. Careers are over.
Surge Dalton.
"I don't know which way we're going," Modessa admits, just as we turn the corner of the hallway. "It could be this way or that."
"Okay."
Modessa laughs a little bitterly. "You don't speak much. You know, I would have loved that back before, but right now, words would be a bit comforting."
I nod, taking note of that. I'm not even that great with my words. I understand it, all in my head, but it's hard to process that from my brain to my mouth so fluently. We turn another corner, and quickly, I check to make sure the colours are still following us. The streaks halt, as if knowing I'm watching, before sliding back a little. People would think I'm crazy if they knew my theory. The colours are following us, watching us, almost as if mobile Gamemakers constantly keeping their watch more personal. Then, when they believe things are getting boring, even just a tad, they set off a trap.
It was watching us, I noticed and made Modessa look, then a wall appears and knives fly out, killing Bridge. But they weren't all for Bridge. The knives were for all of us, they were just off their game a little and poor Bridge was just unlucky.
The backpack on Modessa's back jiggles, and I smile, knowing my ingredients for a poison are in there. They didn't provide any, but I learned enough in training how to create a poison capable of killing someone. Then some darts and blowgun, and right now, the perfect weapon.
We turn yet another corner, before a doorway appears, door already open. Modessa moves forward a little, but I already know what's going to happen.
I leap across the gap, quite badly, wrapping my arms around Modessa's legs and bringing her to the ground.
She lands with a cry and thump, just as a giant, circular blade swings down from the ceiling, right in the path of us.
The colours.
"Thanks," Modessa stands, wiping herself down. "Though, kinda stupid."
"How?"
She laughs bitterly again. "You know, you're one awkward child, Surge. I mean, you could have let me died. One less for you to worry about."
I pause for a moment, letting my mouth drop down a little. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry, either, I'm thankful for it," Modessa assures me. "I'm just saying, not a lot of people would do that. Me included."
Is that Modessa's way of telling me she'd let me die? I don't blame her. But I guess something is different. I've never had many friends, none even, and I didn't even think of getting myself an ally. But Modessa made an effort. She approached me, wanted to be my friend, wanted to be my ally. Then Rowen and Bridge joined, and whilst I'm not as close to them as I am with Modessa, but a part of me is sad with Bridge's death. He was a good, strong ally.
"Poor Rowen," Modessa frowns eventually, realising I'm not replying. "She's all on her own. Anyone can find her. She could even be dying right now."
I nod, pointing in the direction of the hallway.
"Yeah yeah, I know, keep moving," Modessa rolls her eyes. "We need to get you to talk some more, you know."
"Sorry."
Another little laugh, before turning around to begin walking. "Still. Rowen needs us, she's a lot more broken then she lets on. A place like this will eat her whole on her own."
"Like it does you." I say, aloud.
Quickly, Modessa stops, and I can see the tension rolling along her body, causing her muscles to tighten. This is why I don't talk too much. Foot in mouth, clearly. It's obvious that Modessa is underweight. Ridiculously underweight. Most people think it's natural, maybe she lives in poverty, but from my view, it's obvious she has an eating disorder. Bridge gave her the jerky, she didn't even touch it, but I could see the hunger and disgust in her eyes.
I step forward, ready to place my hand on her shoulder, before she cuts me off.
"Don't," Modessa's voice wavers, cracked and broken, as if she's on the verge of crying. "Please Surge, don't."
And so, I don't. Modessa moves again, I keep quiet whilst the tense atmosphere smothers us.
Basil Larkspur.
Once again, I find myself facing the floor, listening to the sounds of metal meeting the concrete walls. I keep quiet, breathing hard, until it finally stops. Pushing myself back onto my knees, I laugh, seeing the large metal sheeting, sliced straight into the wall unceremoniously.
Everytime I think I'm safe, they throw something in the works. It's not easy, I'll admit that, but so far, fingers crossed, everything is going well. A floor wanting to eat me, cleared. Metal sheeting, cleared. More tricks? Bring it. Soon enough, after some more walking and doors, I find the large room we started in, Cornucopia glistening in the middle of the inky light. I smile, crossing the room in large steps, determined to find a weapon.
The mouth is still full to the brim with everything. Swords, knives, boxes and backpacks.
"Strange," I frown. "Why didn't the Careers take anything?"
I scoop up a backpack, checking the contents. Some food, a blanket, some wire and a bowl. I throw it over my back, picking up what seems to be a sheath of knives. I roll open the plastic, noticing the array of knives, ranging in size and shape. I slide it into my pants, searching some more.
My heart stops as I hear the slam of a door.
I freeze, scooting into the Cornucopia's mouth some more.
Bending behind a large crate, I watch as half the Careers, the pair from One and the boy from Two, enter the room. They stop, mumbling some, before I even realise that they're all holding deadly weapons, like they should. I crouch lower, just as they begin to approach.
But they haven't noticed me.
"Hollis, grow up," the girl from One seethes, anger laced in her voice. "She didn't even like you that way. She didn't appreciate you, like I do."
"Not the point. I loved her and she brushed me off like I was nothing."
One steps a little closer, running her hand down his arm. "As I said, she didn't appreciate you. You deserve better, Hollis, and by that, I mean me."
The boy from One, Logan I think, sits down in the middle of the room, holding his large... Stick? In his hands, rolling it around in his palms. They haven't noticed me, and I can't help but smile at that as I back up more, deeper into the shadows.
"Logan?" One calls from over her shoulder. "Don't sit down, we aren't staying. We're collecting some more weapons and going to hunt before them lot get back."
He doesn't respond, almost in a trance.
"Logan!" One shouts. "I said, get the fuck up!"
Obediently, Logan gets up, hanging his head low. Hollis lets out a dark chortle, flipping his mace around, and instantly, you can tell he's over his little lovesickness.
"Maybe Andromeda was right," Hollis tilts his head. "Maybe some people are sheep. Right, Logan? Are there some sheep in our alliance?"
Logan doesn't respond, but it's obvious he's bullied. But back in training, I was almost sure that he was the leader, not the underling. I guess things change when you're all bloodthirsty.
"I think you're right. I think there are some sheep," Beauty saunters forward. "Baa for me, Logan."
I step back just a bit more, but my invisibility breaks. I hit what must be a sword, stood up, which clangs to the floor. My heart hammers as I stay still, but I notice the looks of the Careers, facing in my direction. That it's for me. I got cocky, and now, I'm dead. Luckily, though, something stirs up in Logan.
In a wild rage, he screams angrily, flying straight for the pair that have their eyes focused on the mouth I'm hidden in, and luckily, not him. He raises his stick, which now looks like a staff, and swings it straight into his district partner's side. She screams and then, he does in what might be mocking pain, as she falls to the floor. Hollis spins around, but Logan slams his stick straight into his shoulder blade. Hollis hisses, but Logan doesn't stop. He raises the staff, slams it down. Up and down. Up and down. Soon enough, when he raises it into the dark light, you can see the splatter of red. One more swing. Another. Another.
A cannon booms as Logan lets out an animal like holler.
And like that, Hollis is dead.
He pants hard, looking down at the mutilated body of his former ally, ragged breaths coupled with a few chokes, beet red face sweating. He turns around, but his district partner has vanished, obviously disappearing during his attack. It takes a while for him to leave, tired, but he does. I watch the metal teeth eat Hollis and whisk him away, but I don't move. I stay there, eyes fixated on the crimson puddle left behind.
Caspian Coburn.
Andromeda screamed before panting a little hard, bent over, but when Misty went to help her weakly, Andromeda flinched. At first, I thought it was just Hollis, but clearly, it's everyone. She stayed like that, then when the cannon happened, she became fine.
"Are you okay?" Misty asks with an edge of weakness in her voice as Andromeda straightens herself up.
I instantly remember the pain I felt when Misty got kicked and attacked like that. It was horrible. "Yeah, you seemed a little, odd."
"Hollis is dead."
"That was his cannon?" I ask, a little shocked.
Andromeda nods, laughing bitterly. "Yep. I just know it was him. You know these bracelets? I think it has something to do with your partner. Obviously, Beauty must have turned on him and killed him. That's why I freaked. It was like my body was on fire, burning away at my nerves."
"Well, that explains the whole punching incident," Misty remarks. "Hitting me then flinching yourself."
And the pain I felt when Beauty and Hollis assaulted Mist. It's like a pain pairing. Punished for our partner being injured.
"But what makes you think he's dead and not just injured?"
"It got stronger and stronger, then right at the end, it was like a sizzle. Like when you put out a fire and the last flame dying in a pop. That's what happened," Andromeda shakes herself off. "His flame died. You kind of, you kind of just know. It's hard to explain so don't worry."
A part of me wants to mention that I might understand, if Misty ever dies, or she might if I died.
Andromeda walks on ahead. I smile to Misty as she hobbles over.
"I'm kind of shocked that Andromeda joined us, you know," I laugh quietly. "I thought she'd stick with them."
Misty shrugs. "She clearly understands us more. Plus, I have nothing against her, do you?"
"I like her, so no, not really."
"Exactly," Misty smirks. "So stop worrying and just keep going."
I look to Misty's arm, clutching her stomach, where a part of me feels a bit guilty. I grab her shoulder, the curiousity pulling at me too much.
"Are you bruised?" I ask strongly.
She looks taken back, but sighs heavily, lifting up her white shirt to show off a large, moldy green bruise across her ribs. I gingerly poke it, which she seethes angrily.
"I-I think it might be broken," Misty admits, her voice broken and not like her. "I think t-they broke my ribs, Casp."
Andromeda stops, having heard our conversation, before she sighs and comes back. She grits her teeth, jawline tense, before she snakes herself underneath Misty's arm and helps her out. I can tell she hates the contact with all her might, but she swallows it down, letting me take the other side as we lead Misty down the hallway.
Ember Auger.
Finally, we find a room we can rest in. I sit down, Maybelle close by, as I clean the knife on the sides of my pants. Maybelle's eyes stay wide, terrified, like she's constantly seeing the image of the blade diving into Komara's body, over and over again, on repeat.
"It's okay," I soothe her. "Komara had it coming. She deserved to die, May."
"...Does that mean I deserve to die?"
I'm a little taken back, but I look at her, eyes still fixated into the distance.
"Of course you don't deserve to die. Don't be silly."
"But you said it," Maybelle speaks quietly and vulnerable, but with a questionable side to her. "You said she deserved to die. She was a kid, like us."
I pause for a moment, debating my answer. She's young, she's impressionable, so I should be careful. "I didn't mean it like that. No-one deserves to die. Not you, not me, not Komara and not any of the others in here with us. But with Komara, when she's threatening your life and wanting you dead, then she does kinda deserve it. She stripped herself of her innocence by doing that, Maybelle. If someone is going to do something so horrible like that, then they don't deserve to stay alive. She wanted you dead when she's four years older than you."
"But you killed her," Maybelle replies timidly. "You killed her. You stripped yourself of innocence when you done that. Does that mean you deserve to die?"
"I don't know," I respond, realising how I've kinda screwed this conversation up. "I guess I do, then. But it was in self-defense. Maybe she didn't deserve to die, you're right, but she shouldn't have done what she did. She shouldn't have threatened someone so young. And, I guess, a maternal part of me wanted to make it right, even though I took her life."
She nods slowly, absorbing the information.
"I'm sorry, you know."
She looks at me, a little water glossing her large brown eyes. "What?"
"You shouldn't be exposed to this. You shouldn't have to see people die, more so me killing someone."
Maybelle nods again. "I forgive you."
I smile. "I know you do. That's because you're too sweet."
"Ember?"
"Yeah?"
"Does that mean, I know you don't mean it when you say she deserves to die, but does that mean that a lot more of the others out there, they might deserve it?"
"They might," I shrug my shoulders. "But as we've cleared up, no-one deserves to die. But sometimes, in situations, to do something right you have to do something wrong. To save your life, I had to kill. The others, out there somewhere, might have to do the same. We're all trying to get home, one way or another, and none of it is right. Our intentions are right, our actions are wrong. Yet, we can't do anything about it because, at the end of the day, everyone wants to go home. No-one wants to die."
Without warning, Maybelle latches on to me, arms wrapped around my waist. I go to hug back, but it's short, before she leans away and pants.
I look around the room, the streaks of colours on the wall, before slowly, I find myself hard at breathing. I pant just a little bit harder, clutching my chest, feeling like it's constricting. I look to Maybelle, noticing her do the same, hands around her throat. I hear a grinding noise, before standing up, going towards the door. Maybelle watches me with curious eyes, but as I pull the handle, it doesn't budge. It's solid, shut, trapping us in.
Panic rises in me.
I tug and tug, then, the grinding noise gears up to a louder volume.
I look around, just in time to see the walls on either side, me and Maybelle in the middle, begin to move inwards towards us.
My eyes find Maybelle's which are wild and scared.
She knows too. There's no way out.
We're trapped.
Dark Paradise by Lana Del Ray.
The blog for this story is - childsplayhungergames . blogspot . co . uk/ - just take out the spaces. Deaths will be notified there.
Hollis Brood, District Two.
Sorry to the submitters who lost there tributes. Just the way the Hunger Games are. If you're annoyed, fair enough, but there was a plausible reason why your tribute lost out, and it could be many. Mainly, I either struggled with writing these tributes, or the submitters, or the fact that I didn't see a storyline or future for your tribute.
Stick around if you want. Don't if you don't. Again, I'm sorry.
20 Points -
20 Points -
20 Points -
20 Points -
Voting has changed now we're in the arena. You may vote for your own tribute now. Anyone can vote, whether you have a tribute or not. Vote for who you like! Votes in reviews only.
However, I still choose the victor myself. Points don't decide it, but simply help in knowing what the tributes final place should be in the Games and how things play out for them. If you don't want to vote or leave some criticism or thoughts, that's fine. Just don't be upset when I kill your tribute early, then whine.
It's a little shorter, but the time for that has come, since I can't do as many POV's anymore and we're slowly but surely meeting halfway. So, I'm really sorry, but it's going to be a little shorter than normal as more die!
