Stone Axelback (D12)-Day Three, Night

Stone Axelback hated the night. He always had. But here, in the bloody dead lands of the arena, Stone hated the night even more. He was protected from other tributes and the night terrors in is cave, high above everyone else, but he could still here the voice. They spoke ominous warnings he did not want to hear. Worse than anything, they spoke in his sister's voice. He pulled out his small token and held it close. The small dancing figurine…this was his sister. Not that voice. Never that voice.

Luna Ricci (D7)-Day Four, Day

Luna Ricci grabbed on to Larke as she started to stumble on the rocky, downhill path.

"Thanks." Larke mumbled, limping along.

Luna beamed at the other girl. "Don't mention it." Luna started humming as they went along, a smile shining on her face.

"How can you be so cheery, aren't you scared at all?"

"Oh, I am, but I can't show it. I know my grandfather and two best friends are watching. When I was leaving my district, I told them I wanted to remember their smiling faces. I want to do the same for them. I don't want them to see me frightened. I owe them more than that. Much, much more."

Larke came to a halt and pulled Luna backwards. They crouched on the ground behind a bush. "Isn't that…"

"The boy from Twelve, yes."

They watched as the large, hulking, brick of a boy stalked down the rocks like a mountain lion on the prowl. He was far enough in the distance that the pair had no fear of him spotting them, but neither could seem to tear themselves away. The boy looked as if he could tear a human apart, limb from limb, with his bare hands.

"What is he doing?" Luna whispered.

"It looks like he's stalking something." Larke looked at Luna. "Or someone." The girls gulped. The boy pounced like a cat and held something bloody in his hands. The girls struggled to see what the boy held. "What is it?"

"It's a…weasel. He caught a weasel."

"With his bare hands? Those things are tricky little creatures and he made it look like it's nothing." The girls looked at each other. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, let's go."

Willow Lerman (D6)

Willow felt the panic reside as Colorado held her close, gently brushing her hair. As her brain began to settle and her thoughts unjumbled, she idly wondered if Dexter "Colorado" remembered her from their district. Colorado had been a jokester, albeit a mean one at times. He was known throughout the district, not exactly a household name, but known well enough. Willow had watched him in secret on the way home from school as he and a crowd of other boys jostled down the path, hollering and shoving each other. He had always stood apart somehow in Willow's mind. Colorado began to stir in his sleep, mumbling incoherent sounds. Willow willed herself to absolute stillness, so absorbed in the sweetness that was Colorado when he was sleeping that she wished not to tarnish it with him discovering how tightly he held her at night.

Willow knew such a thing would never happen outside of the arena. Colorado would never had glanced her way back in the district, and if they had so happened to cross paths, his eyes would have glazed over, not really seeing her, but past her.

Colorado awoke with a jump of his body. He sat up gasping for air, sweat beading down his scalp. Willow pretended to sleep as he gained composure. Colorado shook his head, his brown locks patted down by sweat. He shook Willow. "Come on, it's dawn, we have to move. No breakfast this morning." He glanced down at her as she pulled herself up. His brown eyes took in every inch of her, from her light brown hair, to the scar that ran across her shoulder to her arm. He shook his head. No, this could not be happening now, not here, not in the arena. No. He would not allow it.

Arithmetic Farthers (D3)

Arithmetic Farthers was not scared, no she was not scared at all. Being scared meant there was a possibility of her dying, and she knew such a thing would not happen. She would win the 113th Hunger Games and there was no use in denying such a fact.

Or so she kept telling herself.

The death of Cameron and Chandelier still hung heavily over the group. They were all facing the fact that this year the career pack was not what it was meant to be. If Arithmetic had had any fears over possibly losing the game, she would have said such a thing decreased her chances of winning were greatly decreased. But, of course, that was only if she believed she could not win…

"Enough of this!" Felix through a canteen against the base of the mountain. The trio had been resting at the foot of the mountain in complete silence after arguing whether or not to risk the climbing of it. Felix believed that it would be best to gain some of the high ground while Cryo argued that it was idiotic.

"You don't know who is up there. There's bound to be caves up there that someone is hiding in." Cryo tried to tell the other boy.

"If there are caves up there, don't you think we could use it to our advantage?" Felix glared back.

"Not if there's someone in those caves and that's the matter at hand. It's the who I'm worried about."

As the days passed, Cryo seemed to get less fool hearty and more leveled headed, or so it seemed to Arithmetic. His logic was sound and for once she had trouble finding fault with it.

"I'm the leader and I say we go up!"

"I wasn't aware we had a leader."

"Damn right we do! I put this group together-"

"And we've already lost two members without doing much damage ourselves." Cryo fixed his cool gaze on the other boy, daring him to refute him.

Felix squirmed beneath Cryo's gaze for a moment before his green eyes turned cold. "Fine. Stay in the woods where that psychopath will get you. Don't come crying into my cave when she takes another knife at you." He turned his back on them, walking away with his fist clenched and his body tensed.

Cryo turned to Arithmetic. "Well? You aren't going to go too?"

"You may be an idiot, but he is a hot head. At least I know I can control you."

Cryo laughed. "That would be the first time I've heard such a thing."

Arithmetic scrunched her nose. "I'm sure it's been said plenty of times behind your back."

Luke Mancini (D2)

Somewhere along the line, Luke had severally screwed up. He was a charismatic fellow; why hadn't he used that to his advantage with the other tributes? Although he had managed to kill one tribute and had an ally-so he had kidnapped her a little bit, rules changed in the arena-Luke felt like his entire scheme had somehow crashed all around him.

The poison was tweaking with his brain. He could feel it. Alabaster White, it was called. He had found the concoction for it in an old, tattered book back in District Two hidden in the neglected shelves of the District Hall. He had studied that book through and through, unsure at the time why he dared to do such a thing. The thought of it had been lost in the far corners of his mind until the final day of training. It was then that he realized the genius of it all, and he set Emerald out to find the ingredients for him as soon as he knew the other tributes were safely out of their radius.

Emerald…

The young girl sat a few inches away from him, crossed legged with her head bent down, fingers busy playing with a few dead flowers. She was such a beauty…

Another spasm jammed his nervous system and he wreathed on the ground. That was the truth of Alabaster White. It wouldn't kill you physically. No, it was much more deadly than that, much more horrific than a simple, painful death.

It would eat his brain out. It would turn everything inside out. He would lose himself before anything else could kill him.

He looked at Emerald and sighed as the spasm vanished from his veins. She wasn't safe with him any longer. She wasn't safe without him either. He should just finish her off now, quickly and painlessly as he could make it, before his mind no longer allowed him the smallest amount of kindness. He had never wanted the kid anyway; he had planned on taking the arena on alone. But he couldn't help but see the young girl and think of Lily. He had to protect Lily. When he looked at the girl before him, he no longer saw a gem but a flower. A flower named Lily. He had to protect Lily, no matter what.

Chase Sattel (D10)

In a way, Chase Sattel hated the mountain. There was one path leading up, but yet it was easy to get lost. The stones appeared out of nowhere, jagged and heavily populated, blocking and twisting the path. He had managed to find himself far from wherever the path had once been. He breathed out a handful of hot air and promptly plopped himself on the ground. He had been going since early that morning and was dying of thirst. He took great gulps out of his canteen, not wasting the energy in chiding himself in wasting the water. His mother had kept him well fed; he was not used to the idea of conserving food or water. He shook the canteen, sighing as nothing but air left it.

"Well, I guess that's it for that." He sighed and rose to his feet, only to tumble back down as a knife came out of nowhere. A large body fell on top of him, pinning him to the ground. Chase kicked and cursed, twisting his body so that the attacker was knocked off of him.

It was the District One boy, Felix, and his face screamed rage.

Felix Drake (D1)

Felix felt as if his body was on fire as he chased after the other boy. He couldn't explain what made him do it. Engaging in an avoidable fight was the smartest option with him being on his own, but when he saw the boy-Chase?- something within Felix snapped. He wanted to hurt someone, snap their neck, break their bones, make them scream. His body felt strange and demented; as if it was some foreign place he had never walked upon before. He wondered if this was how Marcus felt. If it was some uncontrollable rage that over took him every chance it had.

He chased after the boy, dodging and jumping the jagged rocks that seemed to reach for the sky in every possible spot. He held the knife close to him as he ran, his grip strong and firm as he readied himself.

It was when he had almost reached the boy, running past the unseen cave, that Felix felt his luck forever run away from him. Two dark hands reached for him, brutally pulling him back. The hands held such force in them that Felix knew. He knew.

Felix and the District Ten boy stared at each other. The boy was lucky and he knew it. Felix watched the boy run further and further away as the hands raised him up higher. The District Twelve boy's were blank as he lifted his prey up.

Felix wanted to scream and protest. This was not what was meant to happen. His family was rich and relatively happy. He was from District One. He was meant to win here, but he shouldn't have been there anyway. He was a wealthy kid with the world at his feet; he hadn't anything to prove to anyone. He shouldn't have been there.

Thoughts of home filtered through his mind right before the District Twelve boy smashed his head against the rock, again and again, smashing it to bits.

Felix could see the blood sprouting out his skull, drenching the rock and the boy and thought it was odd. He should be dead now and unable to see such a thing.

His body was thrown to the ground and Felix watched limply as the other boy walked away, disappearing into the cave. A strange thought entered his mind about there always being a bigger fish in the sea and numbly tried to laugh. He had tried to be predator and turned out to be prey.

It was then that the pain exploded within him and his body convulsed and his mind burst and he heard the bang as the glassy look over took his once beautiful green eyes.

It was his own death that he heard. His own death was the last thing he ever heard.

Rose Jones (D9)

BANG!

Both Rose and Xander jumped as the canon went off. A picture shone though out the sky.

"Felix Drake, District One. I remember him at training." Rose whispered. Xander shook his head, his body half hanging off of Rose. The psychopath from earlier had cut his leg badly when she had tried to get at Rose and so now he dependent on Rose's support.

"I don't. I don't remember any of them." Xander spoke truthfully.

Rose glanced at him curiously. "What do you remember?"

Xander didn't answer her right away and, in fact, never truly answered at all. "I remember what I need to. None of them matter."

"What does?"

Xander's strange gray-blue eyes were unfathomable as he looked at her, yet seemingly seeing past her. "You'll know when you're meant to."

Deceased

Cameron Smith, District Eight, age 17

Chandelier Rouge, District Three, age 15

Talon Williams, District Five, age 15

Felix Drake, District One, age 16

As always, thank you to all of you for your tributes. Originally, I had planned something else for Felix, but I didn't know who was going to die this chapter, and Felix seemed to jump out this time. I know the killings are going slow so far, but, well, that will change…Thank you for all of your reviews!