Kingdom Come.
Don't you fret, my dear, it'll all be over soon.
Dagan Grove, District Nine Male.
"Dagan, you're going to get hurt!"
I smile at the concern in Hayl's voice, but easily wrap my hand around the next branch above and hoist myself upwards, rather awkwardly, but I manage to get up. The lower branches on this tree was thin, flimsy and snapped under a little pressure. Higher up, out of reach of the tributes and myself, were thicker and bulkier branches. This tree was chosen because it was not meant to be climbed. The thin branches mean no footing, no help, and the bigger branches are out of reach, not meant to be used. It's obviously a Gamemaker ploy. Why don't they want tributes to climb them?
That's why I must do it. But, compared to other tributes - and I'm not bragging - I found a way to bend the rules. Two trees are really close together, and so, you put your foot on either one and climb that way, like you would between two walls. Only so far to get to the thicker branches and then, viola, sorted. I need to know what is behind the wall. It's dangerous, a trick, and I need to stay one step ahead of everyone else. Except Hayl, obviously, because she's going as far as I do.
"Dagan, look, it's not worth it!"
I smirk. "It is! It'll help!"
All the cameras are probably on me. Good, let them, I'll show them that they can't make all tributes do what they want. That I'm not going to be what they want me to be.
"I'm serious! They might do something, like you said they would!"
She truly is innocent. The Gamemakers are cruel, but not stupid. Each kill by them has to look efficient and natural, not forced. If they struck me by lightning? The Capitol would go into an outrage, and not because of me, but because the idiotic audience actually likes this as a fair show, not one that shows favouritsm. I'm not teaching Hayl anymore about the Hunger Games, though. As much as she should know, I don't want to taint her mind with the awful truth that yes, the whole of the Capitol are fucking monsters.
I place my foot in the crack of the trunk. I grab the next branch and hoist myself up again, ignoring the slight burning pain in my legs or the way the fresh air whips against the cut on my cheek. I look towards the wall, not surprised that I'm still not high enough. Down below, it doesn't look that tall, but I guess it's like an optical illusion or whatever. The next branch, however, cracks. My heart stops as a few splinters fall. Don't break. Don't break.
It's like the Gamemakers can hear me, because the branch breaks. My hand swings down to my side, causing my body to unbalance, but I manage to stay steady until the branch my foot is on cracks too. My whole body feels light as I fall, smacking my back and then my chest, my arm and my head, as I fall and smash into other branches. Hayl's scream whips into the air alongside the brisk wind as I slam, hard, face first into the ground. I hear a sickening crack. I don't cry out, though, or feel pain, but I instantly recognise Hayl's hands roaming my body. She rolls me over and I breathe a sigh a relief.
"You're an idiot, I told you to not go up there."
"I'm sorry," I smirk again. "It didn't work."
"I can see that. Does anything hurt?"
"My lips do, if that's any indication?"
Hayl blushes but smacks my chest, rather hard. I wince and she leans over, placing a small, chaste kiss to my cheek. "That's all you're getting."
"I'll live with it then," I say, getting up, wondering about the sickening crunch I heard. "Did you hear something break?"
"Maybe? That's why I asked if you were hurt. It wasn't you?"
"Nope," I frown. "Might be behind that wall."
"What would make that kind of noise though by you falling?"
"I don't know. I really don't. But I don't want to find out either. Maybe we should move."
"Like I suggested?" Hayl smirks, grabbing the backpack from the floor. "But yeah we should."
Hayl quickly walks in front, passing a knife to me as we walk by. Our other one is in the backpack. I slip it silently into my boot and follow her. I trace my hands over my face, wondering if my nose or something is broken, and then I jiggle my arms and legs, wondering if they're broken. Nothing is broken. It must have been behind the wall. Do I want to know? Yeah, but not at the cost of Hayl's safety. We slowly move our way through the trees, blending in and out, until we reach what must be the roads that contain the lampposts. Red light bathes the ground kindly. I look up at the six poles, finding two are red, four are white. That means, in this section, two out of six tributes are dead. Hayl looks at me over her shoulder before she crosses the pavement and straight into the woods once more, me in tow, willingly.
But I can't shake the feeling of what is behind that wall. I need to know. I really do. The noise plays in my head over and over again. The Gamemakers don't want anyone to find out; because, lets face it, they so broke the branch to keep me from going higher. But I'll find out.
I won't bend to anyone's rules. If they want me to behave, they'll have to kill me.
Ajax Rogue, District Two Male.
I can instantly see the smear of red lights cutting through the darkness and the mass of trees. I smile to myself, spear still in hand, and continue walking. Honor catches up to my side. I can feel the warmth from her body radiating against me. It's comforting, actually, to know you have one person in a place like this you can trust. I could never, ever, ever trust Cyra as far as I could throw her, and Azolla and Marlin were okay, but they were already a twosome and that was all they were ever going to be. Lamont never fazed me, the subtle little psychopath. Honor nudges me playfully, causing me to stumble and not see the tree that seems to emerge from the darkness and smack me in the face.
Honor laughs, a chirpy, sweet laugh, so unlike her. It brings a smile to my face; but doesn't she realise where she is?
Honor does confuse me. She has a mask on pretty tight, showing barely any emotion even though she's capable of it, and can switch just out of it for a split second, almost unnoticeable, and then click, her mask is secure once more. I've learned that about Honor over the last few days of meeting her and actually acknowledging her presence more and more.
Because yes, at the beginning, I didn't care for anyone. Cyra was annoying - though she grew worse - whilst my "allies" would forever be false and just one of the other numbers. But then I noticed her score, beating out both Cyra and Azolla, and it made me curious. Her interview and the connection of our siblings also intensified my curiosity. I kept myself wary, watching her and trying to understand what she was like. Compared to Marlin's cheerful attitude or Cyra's arrogance, Honor's personality never did shine so outwardly. Then, that night at the camp, where she discussed our siblings...
I can safely say, from that moment on, I cared for Honor, only a little bit; which itself grew over time, once the pack had burst and I found myself following her away from the others.
I could have gone on my own and managed, couldn't I? But why would I when I know that not only does Honor pique my curiosity, but I can trust her above everyone else? It's simple really. Alone and on constant guard, or having a friend and allowing it to slip occasionally... an idiot would make the wrong choice. But I'm not an idiot and neither is Honor. She's my friend?
"Thanks for that." I say evenly.
"Sorry," Honor says, and I can almost feel the smirk on her face in her voice. "I actually didn't mean to."
"Better not had. Otherwise there will be consequences."
Honor laughs, chirpy but weak. "Yeah, okay Ajax."
We continue to walk across the ground, every so often losing our footing on some unearthed roots and stumbling, only to catch ourselves, or each other. We touch the edge of the red light that paints the ground, making the cracks in the concrete much darker and wider. Only two of the lights are red, whilst the other four are white. But the red overpowers the white, and whilst it's still a light, the red makes things much more darkened and ominous
"I reckon, by the final three or whatever, this whole arena will mainly be darkness." I say to Honor's illuminated figure.
She nods. "I guess so. Looks creepy."
I nod too, looking at Honor from the corner of my eye and watching the ghost of a smile on her face vanish so slowly, it's like she wants to keep smiling. I whip my head either side, acknowledging Honor's sword, before I sprint across the gap, watching the familiar huts around the plates come and disappear again. Honor looks astonished, but runs across almost straight after me. A crow flies overhead, large black wings cutting the darkened sky, and I see the flash of red beady eyes narrowing in on me. I hold Honor back, my arm held in front of her body, as I walk the crow descend into the mass of towering trees.
It feels like it's chasing us. Or maybe watching us.
Or I could be paranoid.
"You're being paranoid," Honor says, mirroring my thoughts in words. "They haven't attacked us yet."
"But they attacked Marlin and he was a lot more nicer than we are."
Honor nods in agreement at that. "More than one must have attacked him, coming from the amount of cuts on his body."
"Still. I don't trust those things whatsoever."
Honor laughs and gently grazes her hand against mine. "Well, we'll go the other way. Come on, you big baby."
And, with care, Honor grabs my wrist and begins to walk again, guiding me away from the descending, evil crow. I smile at the touch.
Friend. Honor is my friend. She's my friend. Yet, I can't fight away the blossoming of content that sits in my stomach. This is so much better than the lousy Career pack.
Azolla Midwell, District Four Female.
After walking for so long, I finally fall to the floor. The harpoon carelessly falls out my hand and I allow myself to cry. I shouldn't be like this. I shouldn't have let myself fall - even a little - for Marlin. It's a simple task to not fall for someone. I should have guarded myself, my heart, much more harder. But I didn't. Marlin was like water, seeping through the cracks despite a great defense. I smile at the memory of him and me holding hands during the chariots to show a state of unity between us.
He thought I was cute. A ditzy, blonde girl who seemed in over her head.
Maybe I am?
I don't know. I don't know anymore. I came in here to avenge Coral in some twisted way, and now, I feel like I've let everybody down. How? I don't know again, I just know that the sinking feeling in my stomach is now constant and won't go away. And before Marlin's death - or his attack - it wasn't. Maybe I miss him? I close my eyes, just to try and see if it is me missing me... and yes, the sea-green eyes of his stare through my soul and I snap my eyes open, allowing the tears to build once more.
I stand up and grab the harpoon, holding it out in front of me, just so I can see the way my hand shakes. I need to get over him. Do I sound harsh? Probably. But we stated this would happen. Only one can live and twenty-three must perish. Me and Marlin knew that when we got to that stage. We discussed it just moments before he was attacked - would I miss him if he was gone? Would I move on?
Yes, Marlin, I would move on. Not because I want to, but because I have to.
I make a beeline for some trees and continue to walk as far away from the dead body of Marlin as possible. I even try to rid my thoughts of him, and like the water analogy, he just keeps coming back. His body, eyes missing and uniform torn. Laid on the ground, begging weakly, ripping his skin and scratching stones. Cyra lifting her scythe and letting it find Marlin's chest, cutting off his heartbeat to replace it with an ominous cannon.
Cyra.
The name is enough to leave a bitter taste in my mouth. If anything, I should want revenge against her. Marlin wasn't all hopeless - Marlin was still a human. We could have worked it out, or better yet, Marlin should have been allowed to decide whether we kill him or not. It sounds stupid, but Cyra was in no place to make that decision. It wasn't up to her; someone who only ever used Marlin to ensure her safety within a Career alliance that hated her. I skip past the trees and angrily swipe at the weaker branches, hearing them crumble. I'm so blocked by thoughts and furthering the distance, I don't even see the flash of a red suit due to the darkness. Instead, my body slams into theirs, quite hard, and I fall on my back.
I hear another thud and know it's another tribute. I scramble blindly for my fallen harpoon.
The other tribute makes a weak cry, before a shocking pain is pushed into my stomach. I fall, lungs without air, and I try to recapture my stolen breath. The tribute kicks me again, before their hands hit the ground too, digging away at dampened dirt. Through a streak of moonlight at the right time, I can tell the tribute is a female. Which females are left?
Honor and Cyra. The girl from Three and her ally from Seven. The little girl from Six and the older one from Five. The allies from Ten and Twelve.
A flash of dark hair is also illuminated.
The girl from Eight.
I lash out, sweeping my leg out and waiting to hit something solid. I do, and another shriek follows, bellowing into the darkness. I manage to curl my fingers around the harpoon in time before I hear a scurry of footsteps. As I stand, I know she's managed to escape me. It doesn't matter; I'm not out to hunt or kill a tribute. I followed the Careers like I was expected to do. Marlin died, and now all ties to the other three are severed. For now, I need some survival gear. I can cook and start a fire - dangerous but needed - and I could try and kill a nasty crow. I spin around in the darkness and strain my eyes.
The Cornucopia could be anywhere. I make a guess - the opposite direction to where I remember Eight coming from - and begin walking again. The less eventful my time in here is, the better.
Everyone is looking to be the Victor, everyone wants to survive, but some are more unlucky than others.
Danielle Rune, District Three Female.
I blink a few times, closely remembering to think about where I was last. I remember falling, breaking my ankle, Aspen dragging me the rest of the way and lying me on the ground. I remember Evy and Aspen arguing, and then Aspen disappearing to fetch me water. I remember Evy hissing over the injury one of the Careers gave her, and then, I drifted off... I look up, running my hands up and down my body to make sure I can feel things.
The shadows from the ground begin to extend, like black tendrils, clawing at the trees and smothering them. My heart stops as it touches the sky, turning it black also. Slowly, I edge my foot backwards, like you would escaping prey... but it doesn't move. My eyes snap downwards to watch the ground ripple and shake, opening up like a predator's mouth and swallowing my boot. I panic and my heart hammers. The shadows begin to creep forward, snaking across the floor and running over stones and the stumps. I look down and then up, watching beads of sweat roll down my nose. That's when Evy and Aspen appear. I scream for them, but no sound comes out. It's confusing and the shadows chase them, whilst they do nothing but move. I scream again and again. Why won't they run? Why can't they hear me?
The blackness reaches Aspen first, snaking around him like a boa constrictor. His face stays frozen, a smile in place, as another tendril tightens around his throat, turning his skin blue. And then, quick as a flash, it whips him into the eternal darkness. Evy's next, and by the time I look at her, her eyes are bloodshot and straining against the snake of black wrapped around her throat. Her face isn't like Aspen's; it's not a smile, but rather a snarl.
And like Aspen, she gets snatched into the darkness.
I panic and I scream. A scream without any voice. They creep, dragging their tendril claws along the ground, covering everything in sight. My other foot soon falls into the ground, and as the shadows touch my ankle playfully, I squeeze my eyes shut.
It's not real. It's not real. It's not real.
My eyes snap open again, and despite sweat pouring into my eyes, I see the black sky and the trees, no longer eaten by darkness. Evy's face comes into view, pale and sickly, and she stares down at me.
"You had a nightmare." she states bluntly.
"W-Where's Aspen?" I choke out, emotionally.
"Not back yet."
"Ho-ow long has h-he b-"
"A while now," Evy replies blunt once more. "About an hour or so. The boys from One and Four are dead, though, so he can't be doing so bad."
Evy goes back down to sit on her stump and as I lock my eyes back on the sky - out of a mixture of pain and confusion - I see two shiny, red eyes looking down, tilting from side to side. It squawks, confirming my beliefs that it's a crow. I try to look at Evy from my side, but I only catch a glimpse of strawberry blonde hair rather than her whole being. I sigh and close my eyes again, raising a hand weakly to wipe out the sweat, trying my best to ignore and fight the droning, throbbing sensation that ripples through my leg. The pain caused me to pass out; how much longer can I last?
Almost on cue, the trees begin to rustle and I see Evy stand up, a knife gripped in her hands. I hear the faint thudding on footsteps and a panicked voice.
"Evy! Danielle!"
Aspen!
He comes barreling through the trees, sweat pouring from his hair and a few cuts on his cheek, probably from the branches whipping his face as he ran. I steady myself up, alert, sitting upwards to face him. I can't walk or stad; but I can still sit and watch. I'm not utterly useless. Evy runs at him, alarmed, and slaps him squarely across the face.
"Don't you ever leave like that again! You hear me? Don't!"
He holds his bruised cheek and stumbles over his words, before finally pointing behind him. "I'm being chased, but I think I lost them. There was no need to slap me!"
"Every need to slap you, you idiot!"
His eyes flare in fright, but he calmly slips past her side and walks over to me. I try to plaster on the kindest, most painless smile I can find, just to make him not feel bad since Evy slapped him. He hands me the canister gently, but as I look inside, I can see it's red. Not water? He shakes his head and stands back up. I balance out the canister in my hand before deciding to just sneakily place it on the ground by my side. Another squawk fills the air.
"Who chased you, Aspen?" Evy asks, flustered and frustrated.
"Two girls. I don't know wh-"
I hear the whizz of something metal, carving the air, before a thud in the tree nearest me. Aspen spins around, arms flailing, whilst Evy staggers back, knife raised and ready. A shadowy figure emerges from the trees, proving to be the girl from Twelve, accompanied by another shadow, the girl from Ten. Twelve wears a devious smirk, the spear embedded in the tree near us clearly her's. Ten looks more uncertain, but she doesn't stop holding the knife, ready to either throw or attack. They eye each of us up, one by one, and Evy and Aspen do the same. Aspen slowly bends down and picks up a branch, not helpful, but the best he's got.
"Them," Aspen deadpans. "They chased me."
Kieran DeLuca, District Ten Female.
Margot definitely doesn't look too thrilled anymore. I let my eyes skip over Margot, just for a second, before I lock it back on the pair from Seven. When he chased him, I kept telling her over and over to throw her spear. Catch him before he gets away. Gets back to his allies. But he was ducking and dodging, swirving and running through the trees like a monkey rather than a human. He is from District Seven, though. Probably spent most of his childhood swinging from vines. She couldn't get a clear shot at him, and now, we have to deal with his alliance. Not the perfect situation.
My eyes find the girl from Three, sat on the floor, but she doesn't look too capable. Her eyes are wide and pained, hair wet and stuck to her forehead.
A squawk from a crow kills the silence.
"If you go, we'll spare y-you," the boy from Seven says. "Both of you."
His district partner only clenches her teeth in obvious anger. "What he said."
It's only then do I realise that Margot's weapon, her only weapon, is stuck in the tree behind the Seven's. Margot can't kill them if she wanted to, and we can't escape, because that means going all the way back to the Cornucopia to collect another spear for her to possibly lose once more. No. We need this one. I hold the knife steady. It's not appropriate, but maybe we can do this? I look to Margot and nod slowly. Seven slowly come together, ready to unite.
But I throw my knife.
It's not a throwing knife, but a proper knife, and it flies lamely between the pair, causing both to jump on either side. I charge forward and kick the boy in the stomach, knocking him to the ground, whilst Margot grapples the girl. Three looks petrified as I near her, but rather than hit her, I yank the spear from the trunk and hold it tight. The boy claws the ground to try and grab my knife, but I move forward and stamp on the hand, fingers barely curling my knife. He cries and lets it go, and I scoop it up without thinking. Margot manages to overpower the girl and forces her to the floor. I throw the spear at Margot and she catches it, grinning in response.
"Sorry. But, I think we're in control now," Margot smiles, kinda dark, and I'm surprised since I never thought Margot could be like that. A bitch, yes, but evil, no. "How about you hand over the backpack and supplies?"
The girl looks beyond pissed as she grabs the handle of the orange backpack and launches it through the air at us. It lands just a few inches from our feet. Another squawk. Margot scoffs as she grabs the bag, looking up. I follow her eyes when I see her mouth agape a little. Seven, rather than taking advantage, also look up, and even Three does, too. Crows line every single branch up in the trees, filling the air with dark squawks and black feathers, blood eyes piercing shadows. It's rather light in their camp, so I'm not surprised I can make out a few of their figures perfectly. I'd rather I didn't see them, to be honest.
One, only a few branches above our heads, flaps it's wings. It's beak opens up, flashing tiny, razor teeth, before it swoops down.
Like a domino effect, all the birds scoop down in a giant, black tsunami, washing over everything in sight. Someone cries out, and instantly, I'm raising my knife in the air and carving anything. Sometimes, I hit skin and bone and a crow cries in pain, sometimes, I hear Margot cackle and then cry after. I hear a small, terrified voice cry out, followed by the boy and what I presume to be the girl from Seven. Talons claw into my back and scratch. They get my neck, my throat, my cheek and forehead. Blood gushes down over one of my eyes, blinding me. I stagger back, tripping on - what I guess would be a root - hitting the ground hard. I scramble for the trees, away from the danger. I try to wipe away the blood, but I just can't. It's flowing fast. I press my hand down on it and strain my good, visible eye. I watch the black tornado of feathers and talons whip around at a frightening speed at the other tributes. Margot tries to defend herself, and I watch a specific crow launch a bite into her thigh. She stabs it and it falls to the ground, dead, hissing through her teeth the entire time.
The pair from Seven are fighting off crows that seem to swoop and fly in every direction. One lands on the ground - it's head level with the boy's lower back, proving they are large - before it sinks it's teeth into the skin behind his knee, producing blood that smears it's beak. It skips around, and two more land by it's side. My heart thuds when I realise that like me, the girl from Three is on the edge, still half covered in shadows, away from the birds. They taunt her, tilting their heads playfully, baring teeth. I should help. I should help.
She screams loudly, but her voice is smothered by everyone else crying in pain or anger or whatever.
One flies directly for Three's face, and I watch, horrified, as tiny teeth clamp onto her cheek. She cries as blood spills on either side of it's feathery beak. She swipes air with her hands, lifting only one of her legs to fight it away. Another one targets the moving leg, clamping on her ankle. She cries again. Acid rises in my throat. The swarm of feathers continue to rip everyone else, cutting them and swiping at them, drawing blood that you can't see, whilst three target the girl from Three. The final bird squawks, and out of nowhere, a few more ascend from the darkness and join in. They each find skin on the girl and bite, chew, rip away. Blood pools on the ground, forming a puddle around her body, but she doesn't fight back. Her hands, swiping and fighting, begin to go limp. Her only moving leg has already been clamped by one of the crows.
She cries weakly, this time, as a small river of blood trickles along the edge of the battlefield. I squeeze my eyes shut and bury myself into the shadows, hoping to avoid it all. Her scream stays strong though, and despite everyone else crying out and the flap of wings and the snap of beaks and metal carving air, I manage to find only her voice.
I hear a squawk and some cries. Then, a flurry of flaps. I peel my eyes open to see that the crows have vanished. Margot lays in a heap, nearby, dozens of scratches and cuts on her face. I hear a scream that pierces the air the moment the silence has settled.
Margot and me look over to the scene. The boy from Seven lays on the floor, holding his cheek that's been ripped open, blood gushing out. The girl is holding her knife proudly, but staring at the girl from Three... My heart stops when instead of seeing pale features, blonde hair and terrified eyes, I see nothing more than raw skin and flesh, bloodied and ripped, making the girl look nothing more than a hunk of raw meat in red, ripped clothing.
She was flayed alive by the crows.
Her lips - what's left of them - quivers. Her hand falls lamely to the ground and a cannon sounds. I feel my whole body sink in disgust. I didn't help her. But, we're not suppose to help other tributes, are we? Those are the unmoral rules a future Victor should live by.
The girl from Seven spins around, angered beyond belief, raising the knife in the air.
The fight has only begun, apparently, as the knife flies from her hand so easily towards us.
Kingdom Come by The Civil Wars.
The blog for this story is bttw hunger games . blogspot - all deaths will be notified here!
Danielle Rune, District Three.
All deaths will be based on realism, story arcs and whether or not the submitter is reading the story. Obviously, reviews let me know this, and if said submitter chooses to not review, I have no idea if they're reading the story, and therefore, am more inclined to keep other tributes over said submitter's tribute. Each decision is painstakingly hard but must be done. Everyone knew the odds when they created a character. I would hope you stick around, but if not, I understand.
To Danielle's submitter, Ace, I'm truly sorry. Danielle couldn't do much after the ankle and the crows were too much. She was a great, humble character whilst she lasted, but it wouldn't have been realistic. She had a good run though, lasting longer than two Careers and a tough competitor!
I would love for you to answer a specific question I have for each chapter!
At this very point, before more development happens and from what you've learned, who would you like to see win?
Anymore guesses on the wall or Nomen's plan? ;p
And of course, a general review on my writing or the storyline is much appreciated and noted!
Smaller chapters, I'm afraid. From six to five POVs. It'll keep narrowing down as we lose more and more tributes.
Next chapter should be a big one - two to three deaths should be expected. Nothing everyone is safe!
Um. Yeah. Nothing else to say - I hope you're enjoying the story and my writing doesn't suck ;p
For anyone who doesn't understand Danielle's death, the crows ripped all of her skin off... they tore at her until she looked nothing more than a slab of raw, pink meat. ;|
