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Burn: Day 4, Part 3

Maxwell Arthur, 31, D10, Tribute Twenty-Three

They had been walking for hours, but only now were they starting to feel it.

He was tired. His muscles burned and throbbed with every step he took. His eyes felt heavy; he struggled to keep them open. He felt faint. The world began to spin around him and he was struggling to distinguish his left leg from his right. He felt like could collapse and fall asleep at any given moment, but he held on with every bit of energy inside of him, forcing himself to plough on.

To him, sleep was not an option, it didn't even enter his mind despite how tired he was. To him, continuing on and fighting was the only thing he could do.

They had been taking shelter in the castle from the crisp, cold air, when the ticking sound had begun. It had been close- too close. If they hadn't have heard it, or if they hadn't have realised the danger it held, they would have been long gone by now and his young son would not have had a father anymore. That thought alone was enough to make his heart heavy and burn with sadness. He missed his family dearly and knowing there was a chance he'd never see them again made it all the worse.

He wondered what they were thinking.

Had news gone back to them about the District Twelve bombings? Did they think he was dead? Did his young son even realise what was going on? It hurt him to wonder. It made him want to cry, but he carried on with his head held high.

As his general would have said; 'It is time to be a fighting man, not a crying boy.'

"I think we've come far enough," Giselle said, turning around to see the burning castle in the flames had died down greatly since the initial explosion, but a few sparks still shined bright, and the air around it was still filled with black smoke.

Maxwell took out his bottled water and took a small sip, allowing the liquid to soothe his burning throat.

Slowing down had only made him more tired, like simply taking another step would send him crashing down. Still, he refused to believe that sleep was on the agenda tonight.

Struggling to catch his breath, Maxwell turned to his ally. "I-I can't believe that." He pushed his greasy hair away from his forehead. Of course, he could believe it. He had come to expect the worst from the Capitol. He would have been an idiot to expect fair play from them, but he couldn't just shrug it off. "That!" he pointed towards the castle. "That was not fair, it-"

Giselle stopped Maxwell's rant, silencing him with the back of her hand. Maxwell furrowed his brows in confusion. What was she doing?

The seconds went by and Giselle just stood there in silence. "Do you hear that?" she whispered.

Maxwell looked around and tried to listen carefully, but all he could hear was the sound of the trees rustling in the wind, and the sparks of fire in the distance. "Hear wh-"

Giselle silenced him once again and slowly began to lead him forward. He reluctantly followed, feeling that burning pain once more.

Maxwell kept his hand firmly on his weapon, feeling at the sharp edges of the blade. He had yet to use it, but he could feel that time drawing near; the time to take someone else's life. He wasn't sure that he was ready to do such a deed, but he'd have to be. Hopefully his auto-pilot would turn itself on when the time came, and he'd do it without feeling the remorse. Of course, that was just him being hopeful.

He took a deep breath and followed his ally close, keeping his head down so he wouldn't walk into any of the low branches.

They hadn't walked far when the blonde woman suddenly stopped in her tracks. She was crouched down, looking at something in the distance. Maxwell saw what Giselle was looking at immediately, but he wished he never saw it. Out in front of them was another camp, a fire was lit and another tribute was watching over it with their back turned. Maxwell didn't want to stay there for another second. He wanted to leave before danger was sent his way, or at least, before the tributes began to chase them.

He grabbed ahold of Giselle's arm but she sharply turned to him, anger flaring in her eyes. For a moment, he was scared she was going to attack him. He loosened his grip on her wrist and muttered a silent apology. "We should go," he said, "before they notice us."

Giselle seemed to think about this for a moment. She bit her lip and glanced back at the far away camp. "No," she said with confidence. She shook her head. "No. Maxwell, we could take them. We don't know, do we? We should get closer and see what the deal is."

Maxwell raised a brow. Was this girl insane? Had these games made her truly lose her mind? He was just as curious as the next person, possibly more so. He wanted to know everything there was to know about this camp ahead of them, but he also recognised the danger. It had been a close call at the castle; he didn't want to run into anymore problems anytime soon.

His brows creased together as he realised just how much had changed. A week ago, he wouldn't have cared, he'd have made stupid, reckless decisions, but he knew he couldn't do that here. One wrong move, and he'd be headless. Literally.

"Giselle," he muttered, but she only shook her head once more.

"I just want to go home now, if that means risking everything then so be it. Killing others means home is closer than ever. Don't you want that?"

Maxwell looked away and slowly nodded his head. He did want that, more than ever. He thought about his wife's beautiful face, her beautiful blonde hair, her stunning blue eyes which were filled with tears the last time he saw them. He remembered how her touch felt, how comforting it was to have her in his arms as they snuggled up at night. He wanted to go home, right now, tonight, and have that touch once more. He'd do anything for that, but he didn't want to make a potentially fatal mistake. Not today. Not ever.

He pulled the weapon out of his belt and nodded his head slowly, uncertainty rushing through his body. He quickly gulped down his fear.

"Let's just...let's just see."

Arrow Redhul, 24, D2, Tribute Six

A deadly silence filled the arena as his allies slept.

It was the strongest silence he had ever encountered. There were no gushing winds ,or spots of rain, there wasn't any any far off murmurs, or scurrying animals. There was simply sillence.

Having spent so much time by the beaches of District Four, the silence was unsettling. It reminded him just how far away from home he was- how far away from his family he was. He was used to hearing the joyous chatter of neighbours or the water brushing up against the shore. There was never a silence so brutal and deadly.

He just wanted to go home.

But he couldn't quite imagine that sense of victory. He couldn't bring himself to imagine making that final kill. He couldn't imagine standing there, knowing over twenty people had died, just so he could survive. He didn't want to be the last one standing. He didn't want to hold that guilt, and he didn't want to be the last Redhul brother. He'd have to deal with the questions alone. He'd have to fight alone, grieve alone, and deal with all of these new revelations about his father alone. He didn't want that, but he also did not want to die. He didn't know what to want.

His brother rolled over in his sleep, crushing some dried leaves under his weight, and startling Arrow.

He stood up and walked over to his backpack, finding a cracker rolling around in the bottom of it.

Suddenly, that same, crushing sound, was heard again, but his brother remained motionless in his slumber.

Arrow raised a brow as he turned his head to look around him, looking for any potential threats. But they were alone, nothing moved, the arena was dead. He shook it off, thinking it was probably just one of his other allies moving. Still, he felt unsettled. His shoulder's tensed and he had that constant feeling like someone was watching him and he couldn't quite shake it off.

He put the cracker into his mouth all at once, the dryness of it doing nothing to help his constant thirst, but it did help quieten the rumbling of his stomach for the time being.

Then, after a moment of pure silence, another sound spiked Arrow's attention and a movement among the trees caught his eye. There was no way they were alone now. He could feel someone's- or something's -presence with them, he could feel their eyes burning into the back of his head. He knew something was there.

Picking up a weapon, he decided to do a scope of the area. If there was anyone there, he wanted to ensure his allies were safe. At this point, it felt like his duty to do so. But a sense of fear still rattled its way up his body, crushing his chest, and making his body shake in fear. He swallowed down and bit his lip nervously.

"Come on Arrow," he whispered quietly to himself.

He stepped out into the depth of the trees surrounding their camp, pushing some twigs out of his way as he went. Nothing jumped out at him, nothing caught his attention. The arena was once again dead as can be.

He wandered around slowly, weaving in between the trees, and trying to not escape the light and warmth radiating from the fire. Arrow aimlessly walked around, until he was almost certain the coast was clear. He was about to shrug it off and go back to tending the fire, but then, a figure caught his attention.

Stood against the tree was a human shadow.. His heart skipped a beat, and he took a fearful step away, wincing as leaves crushed beneath his step.

Arrow stood in a still silence for what seemed like forever; his fear suffocating him with every breath.

He almost wondered whether the girl had gone, but just as he thought that, she came out from behind the tree, making direct eye contact with him. Arrow froze. The girl froze. The whole arena seemingly froze and nothing but a deadly silence passed between them.

"Uh-" he started, but then faltered. He looked down at the weapon he was holding tight in his grasp. Shaking with fear, he looked at her. He was scared, but he knew he had to do something. He couldn't just run away screaming. He had to channel his inner Boe or inner Archer and do something. Afterall, there was only one way he would ever return home.

He began forward, determination rushing through his body as he clenched his fists.

Passing the second tree, he was made aware by another presence, but it was too late. He saw the sword heading towards him in a quick blur before everything dulled around him.

He felt nothing.

Giselle Lacer, 24, D13, Tribute Twenty-Nine

Her heart pounded hard against her chest.

This evening had threatened her life far too many times, but she could feel in the depth of her soul that it still wasn't over. There were still people at that camp and if the two of them didn't get out of there soon, they would realise their ally was gone, and they would come looking for him.

Maxwell dropped Arrow's body to the floor as tears entered his eyes. "We need- we need to go," he muttered anxiously. "We really need to go. I-I-"

Giselle instinctively placed a hand on his shoulder, but he only shook it off.

"We need to go," he repeated.

Giselle was about to nod her head in agreement, she didn't want to stay there a moment longer, but then the sound of crunching leaves broke the silence, and Giselle's worst thoughts were coming true. Maxwell's eyes grew wide and Giselle's head snapped around to see the source of the noise. Stood there was Arrow's ally; the girl who killed Alec.

She was biting down on her lip as her eyes glistened with tears. Her hands were forced into fists; powerful, and angry. For a moment, Giselle thought she would attack, pounce on them out of anger, but clearly this woman wasn't stupid. She knew she couldn't take them both out alone. For a while, Ilaira didn't move. She just stood there, her eyes tearing into her soul, causing the guilt inside of her grow with every moment. But what did she have to be guilty about? This girl had killed Alec, she was the one who was supposed to feel guilty. Still, Giselle couldn't quite shake that feeling.

Giselle took a step away, clutching onto her knife with all her might.

"D-don't come any closer," Maxwell muttered, holding out his weapon.

Ilaria's eyes narrowed sharply, and she shook head. As the woman reached for her own weapon, Giselle tensed and she found herself watching her every movement anxiously as if time had slowed and everything was playing out a second at a time. Slowly, deadly.

"Don't do anything stupid," Giselle said, though her voice was barely audible. She could feel the fear wrapping itself around her body, tugging at every muscle, threatening every organ. It made her feel sick.

She was frozen with fear.

She tried to tell herself to move, to run before anything bad happened, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. The thought of moving frightened her more than anything. Mostly, she didn't want to be the one to make the first move.

The stare-off was abruptly ended by a breathy sound. But it wasn't a human sound. All three of them was as confused as each other. Slowly but surely, they turned their heads, and stood there, next to them, was something from their nightmares, something that had refused to leave them alone since they first entered the arena.

A beast.

"Shit," Ilaria muttered,backing away slowly.

Giselle's legs gained movement. Grabbing hold of Maxwel's hand, she ran.

Ilaria wasn't far behind them, screaming out her allies name's. "Luca! Boe!" Giselle didn't dare to turn around or slow, she just carried on sprinting through the trees, the branches hitting against her face with such a force that a burning sensation covered her body, but she ignored it. She continued to ignore it even when blood was drawn. She just wanted to get out of there.

Without knowing it, she had been heading straight back to the camp. It was almost as if the beast had been leading them there, wanting a fight to commence, because as soon as they stumbled into the clearing, the beast vanished.

But the threat still remained in the air, Boe and Luca were nowhere to be seen, but their belongings were still sprayed across the floor.

"Where-" Maxwell began, but he was soon cut off. A great impact hit her on the back and went crashing forward.

She struggled in the dirt, Ilaria right on top of her, trying to pin her down. Her face was covered in bloody scratches from the tree branches. It looked a lot like what she imagined her own face to look. The two women struggled against each other as they pushed, shoved, wriggled, kicked, all while Maxwell, Boe and Luca were unaccounted for.

She wanted to look up and see what on earth Maxwell was doing, but Ilaria's mess of brown hair distorted her vision. "Max-" she tried to call, but she was cut off by an elbow coming down on her jaw.

A crashing noise startled her, but she could not see where it was coming from or who had made it. Soon, a clash of metal- on- metal echoed around her and she knew it must have been the men. Fighting. Shouting. Struggling.

She was so distracted by figuring out what was going on that she failed to realise how close to the fire she was. The smell of smoke flamed her nostrils. The ribbons of orange burned against body. It almost seemed as though Ilaria was trying to throw her into the fire. She let out a weak scream, as her hand was pushed directly onto the burning wood.

Illaria was suddenly thrown off of her and a pair of two hands helped Giselle up. She felt so distorted. Her head was spinning, she found it difficult to stand up, and she couldn't quite figure out what was going on.

She could just about make out a body lying in the distance, but she couldn't quite tell who it was. One of the men was helping Ilaria stand, it seemed as though she had burnt herself on the fire.

Giselle took a stumbling step away, her hand holding onto her head as she tried to level herself. Ilaria and the other man began to make their way forward, the other man seemingly struggling to keep himself upright, both had angry tears in their red-blood shot eyes. As if on queue, they both drew their weapons, and Maxwell did the same. Giselle reached for her side, but her weapon wasn't there. It was by the fire, glinting at her as if possessed, as if it was laughing at how pathetic she must seem.

Giselle swore under her breath, and turned to run, but quickly lost her balance. A crash of metal surrounded her once more as she crashed to the harsh floor.

Someone stepped over her. Blood dripped down her,face. She held her breath tight.

The knife dropped down to her chest before she could do anything else.

Her cannon shocked everyone from their trance.

Boe Redhul, 24, D2, Tribute Five

Maxwell turned and fled as soon as his ally fell.

Once upon a time, Boe would have called him a coward for doing so, but right now, he was too tired. He was quite glad he had gone, he couldn't deal with fighting any longer; he was too emotionally and physically drained to do so. He fell to his knees and let the sorrow come over him.

They were dead, they were all dead. Boe, Arrow, probably Luca now too.

Why was he still alive? After everything that had happened to him, why was he the one who stayed lucky? At this point, that was all it was, luck. He should have been dead, but here he was, his heart still beating, his lungs still breathing.

Still, he didn't' feel alive. His body burned from exhaustion, he felt like every muscle in his body had been bruised beyond repair. He could hardly find the strength to stand, let alone fight, but he hardly a choice in the matter anymore.

Then again, he was the last Redhul brother. What was the point in fighting anymore?

He dragged himself on his hands and knees over to Ilaria, who was holding onto Luca's hand so tight it looked like she was breaking it. Maxwell had stabbed him right in the centre while they were fighting. Right now, the poor boy was barely alive. His shirt was coated in fresh blood, which had started to pool around him. His face was as white as snow, and his skin was as cold as ice.

In all honestly, Luca hadn't put on much of a fight, he was weak, injured, there wasn't much he could have done to prevent it. Still, Boe felt this pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach.

Luca looked up at his sister, he tried to keep his eyes open, but it was impossible. He was like a bulb on the edge of dying, his eyes twitched to stay open, his mouth opened and closed as he tried to speak, but his energy was quickly running out.

"Stay with me, Luca, stay with me, please," Ilaria repeated.

Luca's eyes slowly shifted over to Boe's. He was shaking, blood was filling his mouth, and the light was slowly fading from his eyes. At that moment, Boe wanted to end this for him, he wanted to end that suffering, but looking at Ilaria, he knew she believed he could make it. She would have probably killed him if he dared touch him. Though, that'd probably not be as bad as it sounds.

He could have thought of a thousand things worse than death at that point.

Luca slowly looked back to his sister, a small smile lifting at the edges of his blood-stained lips.

"D-d-d-d-d-" Luca struggled, he let out a sudden gasp, causing Illaria to wince. "D-d-d-don't," he said.

A single tear dropped from Ilaria's eye down to Luca's face. Boe's throat suddenly ran dry and he had to look away. The silence dragged on until Luca's cannon finally sounded.

Looking at the battlefield around him, and looking at the blood that stained his own hands, Boe didn't know what to do. A part of him wanted to sob, but he couldn't have made the tears come if he tried.

This was where the war has led them.

It was stupid. It was pathetic, but it was true. He'd lost everyone playing this 'game'

'What am I supposed to do now?'

Deaths:

14th: Arrow Redhul, 24, D2, Tribute Six: Killed by Maxwell Arthur

13th: Giselle Lacer, 24, D13, Tribute Twenty-Nine: Killed by Ilaria Raveri

12th: Luca Raveri, 22, D4, Tribute Twelve: Killed by Maxwell Arthur

Arrow: So, I loved the triplets so much! They were such an amazing little team, but obviously, the games are no place for a family, and here we see the second triplet fallen. That means only our lovely Boe is left, and obviously that's going to take a toll on him, so get ready for his development which is to come. Or has already come, which ever way you want to see it. Arrow was such a sweet heart, ok, he was the sweetest out of the triplets, and once they lost their 'leader', Archer, in the bloodbath, he was the one who gained a level head. He was great to write, but this is the end of the road for him. R.I.P darling

Giselle: Giselle! She was one of our kick-ass ladies! She was awesome and I loved writing her, looking into her relationship with Maxwell, how their alliance together progressed, all of it, I loved it. Originally I had her going further than this, and I wish she could have done, but I had to pusher her back because of storylines that meant other tributes had to live longer. I loved her, really. Thank you so much for sending her butterfly! she was lovely.

Luca: Cloe, yes, this is happening. Okay, so Luca was someone I originally planned to die quite early on (for development and plot reasons), but then I fell in love with him, and I couldn't let him go. And, here we are. It actually pained me to write his death, but I got to the point of 'it needs to be now Sarah, do it!' and so, I did. He was a great guy though and I had a lot of fun with him, that last scene was the worst thing ever though. Ugh, so much pain! Thank you for sending him!

A/N: Lol, I swear I'm still alive! Two months, pfft, no way, ha ha ha ha...oops
Uni is a pain ok.

Also, my motivation level as you probably know has been quite low so, shout out to Sophia! (who so doesn't read this). Yeah, her epilogue for her syot motivated me to write this, so yay go Sophia. Actually, I feel pretty motivated to write the following chapters actually so woop woop! Letsgo! (I think I say that every chapter, but then things happen and eh...but hey, whoopdido)

So, three pretty kick-ass tributes died this chapter which I feel sad. But hey, let me know your thoughts!

Questions

Who will go next?
Who will kill next?
What are your predictions for placements? (I'm just really intrigued)

Okay, that is all for now, see you relatively soon, bye!