I am so so so so so sorry. I am 100% sure you all hate me. I have no excuse for not posting in forever! I wrote almost this whole thing tonight at like 11 pm to 1 am. I accidently deleted Microsoft Office from my computer and I couldn't access any of my files and it was just bad! And then every time I went on to add something I just didn't know what to type; I basically had major writers block. So anyway, beware, I didn't edit because I really wanted to post this, and also all credit goes to Suzanne Collins and I own nothing!

Chapter 25

Another thing the Gamekeepers enjoy adding to the Games are muttations. They are just another one of the horrors they add to the arenas to terrify its occupants, for example, tracker jackers or Jabberjays. But before I turn to run I catch a glimpse of what appears to be a giant dog. I have never in my life seen anything that resembled something this horrifying in or out of the Games.

I swivel on my heal and head out at a sprint just a beat after Katniss. I follow her feet in an unknown path but I can quickly tell that I am much slower and as each footfall sounds another wave of pain erupts in my leg. The only sounds I hear are my out feet and the pulse of my heart beating in my ears. Obscurity clouds my reflexes and I can feel my muscles burn as I press them beyond their limits. About ten yards ahead of me I catch a quick sight on Katniss' braid as she dashes toward the Cornucopia, following a very frantic Cato. I feel a very small relief as I see her reach the metal horn but the fear still consumes me as the heavy footfalls behind me hint at the proximity of the creature gaining on me.

Then Katniss slows her ascent and turns to look at me. She raises her bow and shoots at something behind me but her expression doesn't lighten in the least. I wave at her, pressuring her to go on, "Go, Katniss! Go!"

She nods hesitantly and keeps climbing. I try not to focus on her as I continue to move. I feel myself slowing the excruciating pain in my leg is starting to numb it. I can tell that the inability to feel has made my movements clumsier and more lethargic. I am only a few yards off and I press myself forward even though all the muscles in me scream to protest.

I reach the bottom and my hands slam onto the hot surface of the Cornucopia. It's very hot from being in the sun all day but nothing compared to what I had to deal with daily at the bakery. The calluses on my hands protect from the heat so I only feel slight twinges in the unprotected spots, which are not usually exposed to such heat. Though my arms are able to pull me up, I immediately can tell that my legs are a whole other issue. The numbness and pain have swept away my control of it and it slips. Involuntarily I let out a cry as I feel the mutts closing in. They are getting so close I can feel the hot breath of them fanning across my already warm back.

Then there's a whimper behind me as I hear an arrow fly by my head. "Climb!" Katniss yells as I hear another thump behind me. I scramble up the side of the horn and use my arms to pull myself up as my leg now proves to be useless. A hand appears in front of my face and I willingly grab at her hand and she pulls me up rest of the way. She whips around as soon as I'm up and glares at Cato who's hunched over, muttering something I can barely catch. "What?" She shouts, trying to be heard over the growling of the mutts located below us.

"He said, 'Can they climb it?" I answer and she glances at me quickly before fearfully staring into the muttation pack below us.

They have begun to form a tighter group and now rise to stand on their hind legs. As they do this, it makes them look strangely human though that's utterly impossible. They sniff and probe the Cornucopia, yipping at each other via high-pitched noises. I assume this is how they communicate. Then, one of the larger ones pounces up and hits the metal a few feet from us. I unconsciously feel myself take a few steps back, drawing myself closer to Cato, who lies wheezing behind us.

Katniss rises up her bow and arrow and points it at the animals, squinting at them before her eyes widen and I hear a scream escape her lips. Her bow shakes as my eyes frantically search for where she gazes.

I walk behind her and gently place my hand on her arm saying, "Katniss?"

She pants and her wide eyes stare down in fear, "It's her!"

"Who?" I ask.

Her eyes continue to frantically search the pack and I shake her shoulder, "What is it, Katniss?"

"It's them. It's all of them. The others. Rue and Foxface and… all of the other tributes," she finally chokes out.

I gasp and then I see it all at once. The tributes. Each of these represents one of the fallen tributes. There's Glimmer with blonde fur and bright green eyes that flash with hatred. I think another is Clove with black fur and smaller stature. Then my eyes fall on the smallest of the pack; rich brown fur and warm brown eyes, only anger lingers in them and teeth gnash angrily. "What did they do to them? You don't think… those could be their real eyes?"

She just shakes her head in a confused sort of horror and I grab her hand, trying to soothe her, even if it only helps a little. She grips at my hand but then suddenly the beasts start to spread around the horn, splitting into two groups. They stand on their hind legs, which eerily remind me of humans. Of tributes. I quickly dismiss the thought and focus on the mutts. Suddenly one pounces, it hits the metal closer to us and I try to scoot away from the edge. But I'm barely too late as pain erupts in my leg and I cry out. Katniss grabs my hand hard and pulls as I groan in agony. "Kill it, Peeta! Kill it!" She yells over my pain. I bite my lower lip and I'm sure I draw blood. I grab the small blade I've been carrying and make a stabbing motion in the direction of the pain. Immediately, the pain lessens and I feel myself being pulled up easier.

I lay for a moment panting and turn to see Katniss keeping a sharp eye on the mutts. I jerk my head back at the last second and see Cato. With the mutts attacking us, I almost forgot that we still had another foe we were running towards. He is still lying down catching his breath at the top of the Cornucopia. I look back at Katniss and see her shoot a huge mutt directly in the chest but it doesn't even flinch.

Something jerks me up and I feel the pain in my leg inflame again and feel Cato's strong grip around my neck. I am immediately aware he's cut off my air. Katniss whips around and fear replaces the look of confusion that adorned her perfect features momentarily. I feel warm blood pooling out of my leg and my lungs start to burn for air.

Katniss notches an arrow pointing it at Cato's head. Now that I am up close I can see that it's the only part of him uncovered by the apparent body-armor we saw in action earlier. I expect him to look scared but he simply laughs. "Shoot me and he goes down with me." I see what he's saying but I can feel blackness seeping into my vision. I struggle for random gasps of air but I'm not getting enough. I silently beg Katniss to just shoot him so she can live. I am so injured there's no way I'll survive anyway. Katniss doesn't move. She seems to be weighing her options.

I can barely see a blurry outline of her and I hear a faint ringing in my ears? Is this part of the Games or is it just me? I feel Cato tighten his grip on me and I feel one hand near my left ear and have a barely-there idea. I can't be sure if it will work, but it's all we have. The hand I had pressed to my leg wound raises and I see Katniss follow it sadly. I bring it to Cato's hand but he doesn't flinch. As the world covers in white and black splotches I use my finger to draw an X on his hand.

I hear a cry of pain and can't be sure if it's me but then air. I gulp it in and push back against Cato's body and feel us both slipping. I reach out to nothingness but Katniss grabs hold of my arm and pulls, dragging me onto the slippery red and gold horn. A thud sounds behind me but I don't turn. I wrap my arms around Katniss and we just stand there, holding each other. I strain to listen for the canon but I hear nothing but the horrible sound of the mutts attack.

I don't know how long we stood there, maybe an hour but we find ourselves sitting, still in each other's arms. I find myself stroking her hair, her braid, her back. I am aware of every part of us that touches each other. I am also aware of the pain in my leg. The only thing we hear is metal on metal, growling and snarling, and the occasional cry of pain that can only be human. Eventually nightfall comes and we flinch at every sound. The anthem plays but still no canon and no faces in the sky.

Finally Katniss seems to become aware of her surroundings and turns to face me. She glances at my leg and hardens her jaw. She pulls off her jacket and hands it to me. I watch her for a moment but then turn away as she takes off her shirt and then I feel the jacket pulled from my hand. She puts a hand on my arm and I turn back to her. Her teeth are chattering and all I want is to keep her warm. She places her hands on my shoulders forcing me to lie down. I admire her face as she concentrates on my leg. She ties something around it that at first hurts badly but eventually goes numb. I don't really pay attention to what she's doing, just how she looks when she's doing it. After a while she looks at it wearily and lies down next to me. I wrap an arm around her and try to share the little body heat I have.

Without looking at me she says, "Don't go to sleep." I catch her voice shake a little at the end and I glance down at her shivering form.

"Are you cold?" I unzip my jacket and pull her against me, so as to share our body heat within my jacket. She helps zip it up and I can feel her head resting on my shoulder, a stray hair from her braid brushing my cheek.

She's silent for a moment and then whispers, "Cato may win this thing yet."

I shake my head, though I realize she can't see me. "Don't you believe it." We lie there silently for what seems like hours. The temperature drops and all we hear is our short breaths and the groans and whimpers of Cato inside the Cornucopia where the mutts dragged him to finish him off.

"Why don't they just kill him?" She asks, and I hear the shivers shaking her voice.

I pull her closer to me as I respond, "You know why." They are making a show. This is the finest entertainment of the Games. Citizens have their eyes glued to the show. Why would they want to end it? For the rest of the night we just lay there. It gets to the point that it consumes every sense. I hear his cries of terror and pain. I see the blood drying on the horn and the dew on the grass. I feel the coldness, complete and unforgiving cold. I smell the blood and animal stench. I taste blood from where I bit my lip. All I can think of is the boy below me and what I would do to let him live and me die instead. I don't care what he's done, and I don't care who he is. Nobody deserves this, no matter how vile a human he is.

I find myself dozing off, as my eyes get heavy. It's almost been a whole twenty-four hours without sleep and I feel it catching up. Katniss shouts my name each time and I wake immediately at the sound of her voice. Her terrified, yelling voice. I can't leave her here alone. Though I'd still be here, I wouldn't be here, in the arena, in the terrible craze the mutts have accustomed us to. So I fight the sleep. I urge myself to stay awake, if not for my own sanity, then for Katniss.

I start to notice the only way to tell the time is the moon. I point it out to Katniss calmly and try to give her anything else to think about. I feel my spirit barely lifting, as an end seems not too far. I glance down at her small frame in my arms and see her eyes shut. Not in a calm, restful way, but clenched tight, as to rid every image ever seen away. I whisper in her ear, massaging her tight hand, "The sun is rising." She looks at me and blood drains from her face. She shakes her head and presses her ear to the horn. "I think he's closer now. Katniss, can you shoot him?" He needs to be relieved of this agony. We need to be relieved of the agony of hearing such events transpire.

She glances at my leg. "My last arrow's in your tourniquet." She says it like an excuse, a reason not to.

I unzip the jacket as I say, "Make it count."

A ghost of a smile is on her lips but it quickly disappears. She frees the arrow and a tingling feeling rushes into my leg. I squeeze my eyes shut momentarily and then look up at her as she ties it again. It's still numb but I can barely feel the coldness on my leg. She crawls to the edge of the Cornucopia and dangles headfirst over the edge. I grab her legs and she bends at the waist. I hear her bowstring stretch and then a faint snap as it's released. I pull her up and she looks at me without emotion.

"Did you get him?" I ask quietly, brushing her cheek with my hand.

Rather than her answer I hear a cannon fire.

"Then we won, Katniss." I pull her towards me and squeeze her tight. I am to worn out to show any emotion.

"Hurray for us." Her victory voice sounds sad and tired. I glance over her shoulder and see a hole open in the ground of the plains and all the mutts that remain alive bound over to it and finally disappear.

We stand close together and silently await the hovercraft that should retrieve Cato's body and then the trumpets sounding of victory that generally follow but nothing happens.

Katniss glares at the sky, "Hey! What's going on?" Nothing responds other than birds awakening.

"Maybe it's the body. Maybe we have to move away from it," I wonder allowed. I don't really recall what happens when a victor finally wins. I never have paid much attention to the other districts tributes.

She shrugs and starts to make her way down. "Okay. Think you could make it to the lake?"

I flinch internally but reply, "Think we better try." I lean against the horn as Katniss loosens up her muscles and then slowly we make our way to the lake. My leg doesn't have any feeling and I'm not sure if this is a good thing or not. Katniss immediately sets me down, and rushes to drink some of the cold water and splash her face. She brings some water and helps me sit up to drink it.

We sit side by side as a mockingjay whistle sounds and Katniss looks somewhere towards the body with joy etched across her face. But then there's silence.

"What are they waiting for?" I look lamely at my leg, which has reopened, and groan at the mass amount of blood staining my pants.

"I don't know," she says. She starts walking around and looking at the forest floor and starts to bend over just as a voice interrupts.

"Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revision has been revoke. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed," Claudius says, "Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favor."

Katniss turns and stares at me in disbelief. Horror and realization cross her face and then desperation. "If you think about it, it's not that surprising." She stares at me still, not saying anything. I reach for my belt to grab my knife to toss in the water. There is no way I am killing the girl of my dreams. I look up to see a loaded bow with an arrow pointed strait to my head. I raise an eyebrow and feel a twinge of pain within me. She turns red with realization and lowers the weapon.

But I realize, that's what I want. "No," I say, "Do it." I grab hold of her bow and put it back up.

"I can't," she mutters. "I won't," she says, more clearly.

"Do it. Before they send those mutts back or something. I don't wan tot die like Cato." I shiver as I imagine the agonizing hours earlier.

"Then you shoot me," she says, shoving the bow at me. "You shoot me and go home and live with it!" I see frustrated tears brimming at the edge of her eyes. But I can't give her what she wants. I cannot kill her.

"You know I can't." I drop the weapon at our feet. "Fine. I'll go first anyway." I rip the homemade bandage off my leg and let the blood flow. It sickens me slightly to see the amount. I can barely feel a thing in my leg at this point.

"No! You can't kill yourself!" She cries out and kneels at my feel, desperately trying to repair the bandage she can salvage.

"Katniss," I say gently. "It's what I want."

"You're not leaving me here alone," she looks up at me, begging.

"Listen," I pull her to her feet in front of me. "We both know they have to have a victor. It can only be one of us. Please, take it. For me. I don't want to live in a world knowing I killed you. I can't. I would not be able to live in a world knowing I killed the girl I love. Life would be nothing without you. Who would I watch go home every day?" She stares at me emptily and I can tell she is torn. She is broken.

Then I see a thought flash in her eyes. Her hands fumble to the pouch at her waist where the Nightlock is kept. With realization I reach out and clamp on her wrists. "No. I won't let you." I will never let her die for me. A being as perfect as her cannot, will not die so someone like me can live.

She looks at me and whispers, "Trust me." I look into her eyes and I know that she loves me too. I know that she wants what I want. I let go and she shovels some berries into both our hands. All the while, holding eye contact with me. I will never tire from looking into her beautiful gray eyes. "On the count of three?"

I impulsively lean in, wanting one last memory of her lips and press mine to hers. It's soft and gentle and we're both coherent for it. "On the count of three," I repeat. I turn around and press my back to hers. I reach down and thread my fingers between hers. "Hold them out," I whisper. "I want everyone to see this."

I open my fist and the dark berries stare at me ominously. Katniss squeezes out intertwined hands and says, "One."

I glance at the dark brown braid trailing down her shoulder and brushing my arm. "Two," I say.

I feel her clench her hand and I picture her face. Together we say, "Three." And the berries are pushed past my lips.

That's when the trumpets blare. Claudius Templesmith shouts frantically, "Stop! Stop! Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victors of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark! I give you – the tributes of District Twelve!"