It's bath time, folks. And that's not tomato juice in the tub.
Decided to update on the cusp of Friday the 13th and Valentine's Day. It was too perfect, either way. Red is the color of love. And blood. And I know you guys would LOVE to see some blood, wouldn't you? Treat yourself to some chocolate while you read!
Annnnd I hate to say it, but I'm going on a short hiatus. I haven't been keeping up with writing lately and there are some smaller stories I'd like to try and complete. Plus there is schoolwork to be done. I'm writing a feature screenplay this semester and err…it may or may not have Hip in it. ANYWAYS better after the Bloodbath than before, right? You don't even want to know what I did for the Bloodbath on my first story. Heh. Anyway, this will give you time to catch up on reviews, if you feel like it. It will also give you time to mourn and cope with other emotions you may have. You're welcome. See you in April for the next update!
As always, I'd like to remind everyone that this is a Hunger Games story and your character will most likely die. If that happens, please don't get angry and start spewing hate, especially not at the other creators. If you want to yell at someone, you yell at me. And then I'll say something that'll cut you like a knife.
Okay, maybe not, but let's just remember we're all friends here. It's a fictional story. One that I hope you enjoy. So without further ado…THE BLOODBATH.
"Five minutes to launch."
Eugenia's hands were shaking uncontrollably. Yet, she refused to cry. She could see a camera above the entrance to this tiny white room, watching her. Despite the fear tearing at her chest, she refused to cry for them.
She gazed around the launch room, declining to stare at the capsule she was meant to enter. Instead, she allowed her gaze to settle on the gift on the table next to it. It was a box wrapped in white tissue paper that matched the walls and floor of the room. The red ribbon on top was the only trace of color.
Eugenia took a deep breath and approached it. As soon as she picked up the box, a loud voice made her jump.
"I would recommend gathering your gift, then stepping onto the launch pad," Head Gamemaker Corr's voice blared through a speaker. "Escape is impossible. And if you're still in this room when it's time to leave…let's just say you won't live long to regret it."
Eugenia shivered, wondering whom that was directed at. As quickly as she could, she unwrapped her present with trembling fingers. It felt light, as if there was nothing in it at all. Wouldn't that be a sick joke…
She set the box onto the table, closed her eyes, and opened it. Before opening, she briefly wished for something that would aid her through the entirety of the Games. But when she lifted the lid, her heart sank.
At the bottom of the box was a note. A mere slip of paper.
Eugenia felt like crying. She forced herself to blink away the tears, reached for the paper, and brought it to her eyes.
It read: Your gift is that of the Mind Reader. Memorize this list and shred it. Also…
Huh?
The bottom part of the note had been torn away. Eugenia flipped it over in her hands, but the back was blank. It was then she spotted a second piece of paper she had overlooked in the box. However, it was not the missing scrap of paper. It was the aforementioned list.
It contained every tribute's name. And…their sponsor gifts?
"One minute to launch," the disembodied female voice said flatly.
Eugenia began shaking all over again. What?! I can't memorize this in a minute! She crumpled the paper and stuffed it deep into the pocket of her cargo shorts.
"Thirty seconds to launch."
Eugenia forced herself to take slow breaths. Step by step, she made her way into the capsule that would lift her into the arena. Acceptance was beginning to settle over her like a blanket of snow. It chilled her to the bone. I might die today.
"Ten seconds to launch."
Eugenia thought of her cats and had to hold back a sob. I wish I could see them again.
The capsule sealed shut in one quick movement, causing her to flinch. Then the plate she was standing on began to rise. This was a scene she knew all too well. How many times had she watched the capsule rise from a district tribute's perspective? But no longer was she merely watching it on her TV. Now, she was living it.
Up through the dark chute, she and twenty-three other tributes rose to meet their fates, as well as the arena they would lose their lives in.
The first thing the tributes laid eyes on was the Cornucopia. The nationally recognized horn had been turned into a beautiful fountain, with crystal clear water spouting from the tip and gathering in a pool around it. The inside of the Cornucopia was a step up from the water, where clusters of backpacks were gathered. Weapons shone on the walls beyond them. But there was nothing on the outskirts.
Just beyond the Cornucopia, two formidable skyscrapers towered on either side of it. A skywalk connected the two buildings, high over the golden horn. Both had spikes jutting out the sides, marking each floor. The two skyscrapers looked to be twins, and yet, were nothing alike.
The one to the tributes' left was whole. It shone with light and displayed the Capitol logo proudly at the top. The one to the right was partially destroyed. The top was missing and its burnt exterior made it look as though a fire had raged through it many years ago.
The ground dropped off right behind the skyscrapers; they were built on the precipice of a cliff. To the east and west, great mountains rose up, reminding the tributes of the mountains their home was built on.
Behind them, they could see beautiful gardens, a hedge maze, and a stretch of dry ground riddled with holes. Further beyond that were the tops of neighborhood houses and trees.
At least they hadn't been dropped into wilderness. It could have been a lot worse.
A voice rang out over the arena. "Ladies and gentlemen, let the Final Hunger Games begin."
It was announced with none of the enthusiasm or splendor it had possessed in the past. It was merely a statement. The Final Hunger Games was starting, and that was it.
A flashing timer appeared above the Cornucopia, counting down the seconds until the gong rang. Until all hell would break loose.
A spine-tingling scream pierced the air. Mobius had fallen to his knees, hands clamped over his ears. "What is that?!" He screamed, clutching at his head. "Make it stop!"
I gotta get outta here, Ryiero thought, forcing himself to tear his eyes away from Mobius. He silently hoped his ally would be okay. Then his gaze fell upon Elara, who had been placed next to him. "H-hey!" He stammered out, before he could stop himself.
Elara was teetering at the edge of her plate, staring at the ground. The sound of Ryiero's voice caused her to look up. For a moment they just looked at one another, blue eyes staring into brown. Then a tired smile creased Elara's lips.
Ryiero. You were so nice to me.
The smile vanished.
Ryiero realized Elara's intentions a second before it happened. "NO-!" He screamed, reaching for her.
Elara stepped off the plate. The sound of exploding mines wracked the air, and her form was engulfed in smoke and flames.
Ryiero just stood frozen on his plate, one arm still reaching for Elara. But she was no longer there. Just a smoldering heap, emitting the smell of burnt flesh.
Gliss, who had been on the other side of Elara, could not take it any longer. Her stomach heaved. Every precious bit of breakfast she had managed to consume that morning was emptied onto her plate.
That gives me an idea, Casca thought, observing Elara's remains. He bent down and began untying his shoe as quickly as he could. There wasn't much time left.
Next to him stood Daphne. Cupped in her hand was a tiny blue pill. Her sponsor gift. Tilting her head back, she popped it into her mouth and swallowed it whole. She could feel it slowly slipping down into her stomach and waited for the rush of strength it would bring.
Then she noticed Casca removing his shoes. That's odd. Daphne briefly forgot about her gift, observing Casca with interest.
He weighed the boot in one hand, and then turned to Daphne with a mischievous smile. That secret plan of yours...I wonder what it was? In one quick movement, the shoe parted from his hand.
Daphne's scream was abruptly cut off when the boot made contact with the mines at her feet.
Eugenia watched helplessly as her only ally was blown off her plate. More explosions sealed her demise. I'm alone, Eugenia realized with a thrill of terror. No longer could she run into the Bloodbath with someone covering her back. I have to get out of here. I can't do it. I can't do it!
The gong hadn't even rung yet and two tributes were already dead. And it's about to be three, Casca decided, taking off his other shoe and turning to the tribute on his left.
It was Junisse. She was shaking uncontrollably, whimpering softly for her life. "Please, no…please…"
There were still twenty seconds left in the longest minute of her life. She looked to the Cornucopia, trying to focus on it. Stay calm…and visualize your destination, she thought, taking deep breaths through her nose.
Casca wound up for another throw.
"JUNISSE!" Reyn screamed desperately, a few spots over.
The boot flew through the air with terrible precision. Reyn covered her eyes, but the sound of the explosion still pierced her ears. When she opened her eyes, Junisse had gone. Reyn's throat closed over with sorrow. No…!
Then Antony, who was next to her, let out a gasp. "No way!"
Reyn followed his gaze to the Cornucopia. Her jaw dropped in surprise. "Junisse!" She cried out, jumping up and down on her plate. "Go Junisse! Go!"
Junisse was standing at the mouth of the Cornucopia, blinking. Reyn's shouts of encouragement seemed to bring her back to life. With ten seconds left, she ran in and began picking up as many packs as she could carry.
A second later, Judith sprang off her plate. Her body was launched impossibly high into the air, easily clearing the mines around her. She landed on her feet, halfway between the Cornucopia and the line of tributes, which were frozen with disbelief at what had just happened.
Casca gritted his teeth with frustration. Everyone was given a different gift, he realized, noting Judith's boots were different—white with a strange addition at the heel, and small wings on the sides. They became a blur as Judith began sprinting to the Cornucopia, leaping over the rim of the fountain and into the water.
Suddenly, the gong rang.
A number of tributes were so distracted by unfolding events that they almost missed it. But once others started leaping off their plates and running every which way, the platforms were quickly cleared out.
Judith was the first to arm herself with a morning star and a shield. Junisse, who had solely focused on gathering bags for each of her young allies, was defenseless. She began to run for it, her legs sloshing through the water. The three bags were bogging her down with their weight.
Focus on your destination…! Junisse thought, staring past the oncoming wave of tributes. She spotted the entrance to the hedge maze, where Percy was disappearing. She visualized herself appearing there, just as her sponsor had instructed to do so. But then a heavy weight slammed into her side.
Junisse screamed as she toppled into the fountain with a splash. Judith had pursued and whipped the morning star at her. The spiked weapon met with one of the bags Junisse carried, tearing it open and spilling its contents into the water. Junisse floundered, trying to climb back to her feet.
Judith towered over her, weapon drawn back for a second strike.
Focus, focus! Junisse screamed internally, trying to teleport to safety. But her mind had clouded over with panic. All she could see was the spiked points of Judith's morning star, catching the light of the sun overhead.
Judith summoned all of her strength, all of her desire to return home, and let it out in a primal scream. It gave her the willpower to swing the morning star down and drive the spikes into Junisse's skull. She grimaced and repeated the action multiple times, striking Junisse's head and neck, wanting to end it quickly. Blood clouded the fountain water, but was quickly washed away. Her victor's blood.
Junisse was painstakingly silent as death greeted her. Before Judith could check to see if she was really gone, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"It's not worth staying!" Gliss shouted over the sound of the fountain. Her face was deathly pale, but she had managed to grab two backpacks and arm herself with an axe. "Let's get out of here!"
Judith looked all around, trying to locate each of their alliance members. Horatia was nowhere to be found. Tully, Cicely, and Brianne were running into the Cornucopia together, along with many others. Their haste to get their hands on weapons was leading them to ignore one another for now. But as soon as everyone was armed, then the fighting would really begin.
"We'll go as soon as everyone's out—" Judith began, taking a step in the direction of the Cornucopia.
Before she could take another, a small shape came hurtling out of the fountain mist, headed straight towards Judith and Gliss.
"Junisse!" Reyn screamed, voice wracked with pain at the sight of her fallen ally. "Get away from her!" She raised her hands towards the two girls, palms facing them. She was weaponless. Judith raised her morning star to attack.
Then fire burst from the young girl's hands. Bright, blazing fire. It reflected in Reyn's eyes, leading her to look more vengeful than ever.
Judith threw her shield up, barely blocking the heat from searing her skin. Gliss shrieked as the flames caught on her clothes. Reyn echoed her scream—the fire had caught on her sleeves as well. Before she could do anything, Judith bounded forward quick as lightning and clubbed Reyn on the side of the head.
Reyn went down with a cry of pain, blood spurting from the holes driven into her head.
The second kill was easier than the first, Judith quickly found. But she did not grant Reyn the same swift death as Junisse. Instead, she turned her attention to Gliss.
After being lit on fire, Gliss had quickly dropped into the water, rolling around to douse the flames. It was about a foot deep, but it did the job. Judith grabbed Gliss's arm and hauled her to her feet.
"Let's go," Judith said urgently.
The two ran, leaving Reyn's body lying face up in the fountain. Tears and blood ran down her face, mixing together, then washing away.
Brianne had tried to find Horatia before the start of the battle, in an attempt to stick to Judith's plan. But her ally had fled like a coward, leaving her on her own. Luckily, she had managed to get in and out of the Cornucopia with dual knives. She hadn't wasted time grabbing a bag. That would only weigh her down.
However, on her way out, she ran right into Viatrix, who had waited to run in. She was holding something in her hands. Brianne screeched at the sight of her—but not in fear.
Viatrix dropped to the ground with a gasp as pain assaulted her eardrums. Her sponsor gift toppled out of her hands and into the fountain water. No normal human could have possibly ever made such a sound.
"Vocal manipulation. My sponsor gift," Brianne said, patting her throat proudly. Then she stepped forward, raising one of her knives high over Viatrix's head. "It was a pleasure," she said sweetly. "Bye now!"
CRACK.
Brianne's eyes flew wide with shock for a split second. Then she dropped like a stone.
"A…Apollo!" Viatrix said shakily, still crouched in the water. Her eardrums were pounding so fiercely she couldn't even hear herself think. She looked down at Brianne, who was facedown in the water, unmoving.
The back of her head and neck were already turning black and blue. Blood was clotting where Apollo had struck her with his nunchucks. A killing blow.
"Get up!" Apollo said, quickly snatching up her sponsor gift and tucking it under his arm. He was carrying two backpacks on top of that.
Viatrix struggled to her feet. They felt like jello. "But I haven't got a wea—"
"Who cares?!" Apollo snapped. "We're getting out of here. These sponsor gifts are too unpredictable." He grabbed Viatrix's hand and gave her a tug to get her moving.
Finally, she gathered her senses and began running alongside him. They ran for the entrance of the hedge maze. As they did so, Viatrix remembered the third person from their alliance and looked back.
"Lance!" Viatrix screamed.
At the start of the Games, Lance had tried to flee in the opposite direction of the Cornucopia, across the dry field riddled with sloping holes. But then he had spotted a monstrous insect peering out of one of the holes, eyeing him hungrily. As soon as he laid eyes on it, it disappeared from view.
Not ready to face down a muttation, Lance had retreated back the way he had come, deciding to try and join his alliance. But only when Viatrix yelled his name did he finally locate them. Unfortunately, someone else heard her shout.
"Hey!" Perrin said, barreling towards Lance.
Lance realized with a sinking heart that he was armed with a long blade. And here he was, completely defenseless. He had no choice but to run.
But Perrin was fast. He wasn't about to let easy prey escape.
"Lance!" Viatrix shrieked, as Perrin easily bowled over her younger ally and pinned him to the ground.
"Keep going!" Apollo roared.
Chip was running at them, carrying a crossbow. He strung an arrow and aimed it without hesitation.
Viatrix did as Apollo said. The two turned and raced towards the hedge maze with every last ounce of strength they had.
Chip lowered his bow, deciding not to waste an arrow. They were far out of his range, anyways. He looked nervously towards the Cornucopia, trying to locate his other teammates, hoping no one would spot him lurking on the outskirts like this.
From within the Cornucopia, Locce had witnessed everything. He was crouched along the shadows of one wall, barely noticeable as tributes darted here and there, grabbing weapons and backpacks. The mist from the fountain covered him like a veil. If he stayed still enough, he looked like just another dark backpack.
Hidden here, he watched his allies die.
Locce didn't care. They had to die, for him to live. He felt nothing.
But when Tully and Cicely entered the Cornucopia—girls that belonged to the alliance that destroyed his own—his grip on the machete in his hand tightened.
Cicely drew close, fixated on a backpack not far from him. In the same moment that Locce lunged, Antony came blundering into the Cornucopia. He wore clunky-looking gloves and boots that nearly caused him to slip with every step.
Tully bounded forward in a threatening manner, sword at the ready. But Antony had no intention of fighting. He grabbed his foil, a backpack, and he was out of there. Tully put up no fight, choosing to let him go.
"Come on, let's go before someone else comes!" Tully said, grabbing Cicely's hand and pulling her along.
Cicely let out a gasp of pain. "T…Tully…!" She choked out, stumbling to keep up with her, one hand clutching at her side.
They sprinted out of the Cornucopia, nearly running straight into Zion. The older boy hesitated, letting them pass. But it was too early to sigh in relief.
"Tully, stop!" Cicely wheezed, stumbling over the rim of the fountain.
"Just a little more!" Tully panted, dragging Cicely in the direction of the beautiful gardens. There, they could get lost among the giant plants and flowers. They would be safe.
Suddenly, Cicely went down.
Tully ran a few more steps then looked over her shoulder to see that her friend had collapsed. She was curled in a fetal position, clutching her stomach, gasping for air. "Cicely!" She cried out, going back to her side. "We can't stop yet, come on!"
Cicely coughed. "I…"
"Do you have asthma or something? Come on!" Tully grasped Cicely's hand, tearing it away from her stomach in an attempt to drag her to her feet.
It was then she saw the blood pouring from a huge gash in her friend's side. She had been cut at an angle—her skin flopped open to reveal something pink behind it.
Tully had to look away. "Oh my God," was all she could say. She dug her fingers into her scalp, clutching at her short hair. "No, no, no. Cicely…!"
"The…little boy…" Cicely rasped, referring to Locce. "I did…n't…see…"
"Don't speak!" Tully said, dropping to the ground. She held her shaking hands above Cicely's wound, unsure of what to do.
Cicely had already pressed the skin back into place, but it did nothing to stem the flow of blood. Her fair skin was whiter than a sheet. With a trembling hand, she reached into her pocket and pulled out what looked like a silver lighter. Then she held it out to Tully. "Take…it…" she said, each word filled with uncontainable pain.
It sent daggers through Tully's heart.
"My power…" Cicely whispered, pressing it into Tully's hand. "L…Light…Ab…"
"What?" Tully asked, tears pooling in her eyes. She leaned in to hear what Cicely had to say.
Her red lips were moving, but there was no longer any sound coming out. The light in her eyes was fading.
"Cicely, no! Stay with me!" Tully cried out.
Cicely didn't respond.
Tully began sobbing uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I was supposed to protect you. I—"
"Tully!"
Judith and Gliss practically flew over the open ground to meet her. Gliss grabbed the back of her shirt as they passed, yanking her to her feet.
"Come on, we've got to get out of here! Everyone's armed."
"But Cicely—!"
"She's gone," Judith said, taking one look at Cicely's sightless eyes and fatal wound. She glanced around. "You two go. I'm going back in!"
Before Gliss could protest, Judith ran back in the direction of the fray. Instead, she quickly removed Cicely's backpack and shoved it into Tully's arms, nodding at her to run.
"Aghh!"
Lance cried out in pain, struggling underneath Perrin. The older boy was repeatedly stabbing at him with his knife, tearing open his skin. He didn't have the strength to push him off.
"Shut up!" He snarled at Lance. "This is the Hunger Games-I have to do this! Grrahh…this looked so much easier on TV!"
Lance's eyes burned with anger—both at Perrin, and at himself for being caught so easily. "You're…going to regret this…!" He growled, his attempts to free himself steadily growing weaker as blood poured from the many wounds Perrin had inflicted.
"No, I won't! You're not a person. You're…just an extra…!" Perrin said through gritted teeth.
Lance wondered if Perrin had gone insane, or he was just trying to convince himself of that. Before he could reply, Perrin sprang to his feet and began backing away, wide-eyed. Then he turned and ran.
Lance attempted to wrench his head around, eyes searching for his allies. But they had gone. He didn't blame them—he would have left too. I'm so pathetic… he thought, closing his eyes with a sigh.
"Casca!" Perrin called, bounding back towards the Cornucopia. "I killed one! See, I'm not the weakest—"
Suddenly, Judith came crashing down out of the sky, morning star aimed directly at Perrin's head. He let out a yelp of surprise and leaped backwards, barely avoiding his head being smashed in. She swung her weapon again. Perrin scrambled backwards, holding his knife up in defense.
Judith surged forward, easily smacking it away with the shield attached to her arm. Perrin cried out in fear as she brought back the morning star a third time. "This time I won't miss," she spat through her teeth.
Then, like a speeding tank, Zion slammed into Judith from behind. She hit the ground hard, but instantly forced herself back up, shield at the ready. Zion had leaped over her body and protectively positioned himself next to Perrin. He held up his fists in a defensive posture, brass knuckles gleaming on each hand. Perrin reclaimed his knife and stood next to his ally, shaking.
Judith's teeth drew back over her lips in a frustrated grimace. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to hit a girl?" She growled, sizing up each of her competitors, using this brief break to figure out whether or not she should go for it.
"Yes, actually," Zion muttered, tensing his muscles. "I used to be a bit of a delinquent, you know."
"You're a girl?" Perrin followed up with a sneer. "Could have fooled me!"
Judith glared right at him, feeling a small amount of satisfaction when he shrunk under her gaze. "Sleep with one eye open," she advised. Then she turned and leaped off the ground, flying high into the air. She took a few more great jumps to get clear of them, then resorted to running.
She wasn't going to gamble her life away on those two. Perrin was nothing, but Zion made her nervous. She would deal with them later, with her alliance backing her.
"Hey!" Casca shouted suddenly, his voice high with fear. "I could use some help!"
He and Duke were tussling at the mouth of the Cornucopia. They had been for a while, and Duke was beginning to overpower Casca. He forced him to the ground, one hand at his throat, the other bringing a cleaver closer and closer to it. Fear shone brightly in Casca's eyes. He gripped Duke's wrist, holding the cleaver at bay with all his strength. But it was waning, and as soon as it failed him, it would be over.
"Help…!" He choked out again.
Zion was pushing his legs as fast as they could go as he rushed to his ally's aid. As he reached Duke, he wound up for a punch that would send the other boy reeling. But as soon as he let it fly, Duke ducked and darted past him, abandoning Casca on the ground.
"Oh no…you don't…!" Casca wheezed, clambering to his feet, snatching up the spear that he had dropped. He began pursuing Duke, but the hard, concrete fountain was rough on his bare feet, and his head was spinning from loss of air. He slipped on the wet surface, his chin hitting the pavement a second later. Pain rattled his teeth. "Arrgh! Get him, Perrin! Chip!" He shouted, attempting to get back up.
Perrin tried his best to intercept Duke, but the bigger boy shoved him aside. With a cry of frustration, Perrin clawed for a hold on his shirt, and slashed at him with his knife. It tore open his shirtsleeve and grazed his arm.
Duke pushed on, refusing to let it affect him.
"Chip!" Perrin screamed. "Shoot him down!"
Chip hesitated, the crossbow feeling extremely heavy in his hands. Could he pretend not to hear them, at this distance?
"Chip!" That was Casca's voice. Both of his allies were running straight at him, shouting at him to kill Duke.
But he couldn't bring himself to do it. It was too direct. And Duke wasn't even attacking him; he was merely fleeing. And so he stood there stiffly and allowed Duke to blaze past him.
The Cornucopia was nearly cleared out now, having been left to the four boys. But little did they know, Locce was still crouched in the shadows, machete in one hand, knife in the other. While the three boys took off after Duke, Zion had remained behind, standing and panting at the entrance. His back was turned to Locce.
The tiniest spark of realization lit in Locce's heart. This was his chance. His chance to take out one of the biggest threats this game had to offer.
Locce leapt from his hiding place and plunged the knife directly into Zion's back. It sunk deep into the muscle and tissue, staying where it was when Locce let go.
But Zion didn't even react. A second after it happened; he turned his head with a look of pleasant surprise on his face. As if Locce had merely tapped him on the shoulder, instead of having stuck him with a knife.
Zion turned around to face him, taking a step towards him. Locce stumbled backwards, looking at Zion with wide eyes, waiting for him to make a move. During the hesitation, Locce remembered something—the power he had been given.
He threw one hand forward, watching in shock as the jet of water bursting from the Cornucopia's tip redirected itself at Zion's face.
Zion gasped, but drew no air. Water filled his senses, mercilessly battering its way into his eyes, nose, and throat. And it just kept coming and coming, relentlessly. He threw his hands up to protect himself, but that did little to stop the powerful flow. His chest was beginning to grow tight. With a thrill of fear, Zion realized he was going to drown while standing up.
I can't die here! He thought frantically, power flooding his system. He lashed out with a fist in Locce's direction.
Despite being blinded by water, he felt it connect with soft flesh. Something cracked, too—Locce's jaw. But the jet of water only seemed to strengthen, struggling to push him back.
"EERRAAHHHH!" Zion let out a roar of pure determination, battling his way through the water. He flung himself forward, tackling little Locce to the ground. Then he punched him. Over and over. Until he could breathe again.
Water streamed down his face. Zion blinked it from his eyes and coughed it from his lungs. When it was finally dispelled, he breathed in blessed oxygen. His pounding heart began to slow as well. I'm alive.
"Moth…er…"
Zion looked at Locce and his heart seized with shock. The boy's face was nearly unrecognizable, bloodied to a pulp. The same blood was on Zion's brass knuckles, staining his hands.
"Mother…" Locce rasped once more, blood dripping from his lips. One of his eyes was swollen shut. The other shone with pain and grief. "I'm sorry…I'm…joining them now. Father…Pan…" His eye brightened a bit at the thought of seeing his lost family once more. And then it dimmed.
Zion stumbled to his feet and out of the Cornucopia, one hand on his forehead. I just killed a kid. Locce's last words kept echoing in his mind. His mother must have been grieving for her lost son uncontrollably. And from the sound of it, she had already lost family members. He couldn't imagine what she was feeling right now. And all because he had selfishly…
Zion looked around, wondering why on earth his allies hadn't stepped in to help him. But they were nowhere to be found. Frustration began building within Zion. Before he could question their disappearance further, he heard Perrin's voice call out to him.
"Zion, get over here!"
He found his alliance around the side of the Cornucopia, standing next to the burnt skyscraper and looking up. Zion approached them, craning his neck to see what they were staring at.
There was Antony, clinging to the side of the building like a spider. However, there was nothing for him to take hold of. His large gloves and shoes seemed to be keeping him glued to the skyscraper. He was nervously inching his way up, already two stories off the ground.
The three boys didn't even look at Zion as he approached, all of them focused on Antony. They looked like a group of hungry cats eyeing the last fish in a tank.
"Here," Casca said, snatching the bow from Chip's hands and shoving it into Zion's arms. "Chip just can't get a shot in. You give it a try."
"Yeah, you've used a gun, right?" Perrin said.
"A gun isn't a bow and arrow," Zion said flatly.
"Just give it a shot!"
"Give it a shot," Antony laughed dryly, trying not to look down. "Literally, give it a shot. Good one." He crept another foot up the building, nearing the fourth floor. He was terrified of falling if he let go.
Zion took a few steps back and aimed an arrow at Antony. A moment later, he let it fly.
It was a direct hit. Zion watched, stunned, as Antony's body jerked with pain. He let go, crying out in fear. A few seconds later, his body hit the ground with an awful thud. The arrow sticking out of his back snapped loudly. And that was that.
"Dayyyumn," Perrin said, goggling at Zion.
"Lucky shot…" Zion muttered, passing the bow back to Chip. He accepted it wordlessly. Antony's body lay at their feet, but no one acknowledged it. Zion felt like he wanted to throw up.
Casca looked between the two of them with narrowed eyes. "Perhaps we should let you keep the crossbow, since Chip is clearly inept."
"No thanks," Zion said softly. "I'm sure Chip is better at it than I am." He turned away, tempted to start walking and never stop. Shock was the only thing keeping him from breaking down right here and now.
Chip realized with a sinking heart that he was once again at the bottom of the food chain. He tried to look somewhat grateful for Zion's words, but then something else caught his attention and his eyes went wide. "Holy hell! There's a knife sticking out of your back!"
"Huh?" Zion twisted his head around in confusion, but he couldn't see it.
"Whoa!" Perrin cried out, springing around for a better look. "What the…! Man, it was nice knowing you, Zion!"
"How the hell did you not realize there was a knife in your back?" Casca asked, unable to believe it.
Zion hesitated to answer, but decided there was no way around it. "I guess it's part of my power. Can someone help me pull it out?" He groped for the handle, but was unable to get his fingers around it.
I'm not so sure that's a good idea, Chip thought, though he could care less if Zion bled out here. So he stepped forward and wrenched the knife from his skin.
Zion didn't even flinch. Blood spurted from the wound for a moment, then stopped abruptly. The three other alliance members watched in awe as the wound slowly sealed itself up, leaving nothing but a few traces of blood.
"So that's your power," Casca stated. "You can heal yourself. And you don't feel pain."
"I guess the secret's out," Zion said dryly.
"So we could stab you in the back and you wouldn't even feel it."
Zion stood a little taller, glaring at Casca. He knew an underlying threat when he heard one. "You want to try it?" He dared him, taking a step forward.
Casca held his hands up innocently, though his eyes still gleamed with fascination. "Didn't mean anything by it. I'm just saying."
"You didn't need to say it. It already happened; we're well-aware."
Suddenly, a cannon went off, destroying the tension. All four boys fell silent, counting each one in their head. After about thirty seconds, the cannons stopped, the last one echoing throughout the arena.
"Nine," Perrin confirmed, from his position on the ground. "Not bad for a bunch of Capitol kids."
Everyone turned to look at him. "What are you doing?" Chip asked.
"What's it look like I'm doing?" Perrin said, prying the gloves off of Antony's corpse. "I'm stealing this guy's sponsor gift."
Casca stepped forward. "That's Zion's kill. He gets the magnetic gloves and shoes."
"I don't want them," Zion said quickly, looking away. "You take them, Casca. You blew up both your shoes, anyways."
Casca smiled. "Why thank you, Zion." He took Perrin's place and began removing Antony's shoes. "Perrin, why don't you go check the other bodies and see if they have physical sponsor gifts we can take? Zion, gather the backpacks that are left. Take all the supplies you can find and put them into four backpacks so we can carry them. Chip, sort out the weapons in the Cornucopia. If there's a surplus, put them on the dead bodies so they're taken away with them." He felt like a real Career, doling out orders like this.
"Fine," Zion said, glancing at Chip. "Let's go."
While the four of them did just that, the eleven remaining tributes fanned out across the arena, heading away from the bloodshed that had taken place. The last nine lay still, their lives spent.