NEXT CHAPDURR :B
I wrote that as a dividing line for the chapters in my word document, but now I like it so much I think I'll keep it.
Fishapedvanilla - I wish I could respond by PM to thank you for the reviews, but I can't. :P So I'll just say here, yeah, I'm a Portal 2 fan. XD I wrote my final essay in school on it. And I have fun putting references to different things every so often. The 44th has the most of them because Wiley was inspired from Wheatley.
aweomely - OMG YES. That is perfect. I need to draw that. AL-LANCE FOREVER.
Anyways, classes are over and very soon I will be graduating and become a civil adult member of society...JK I'll still be a loser who writes Hunger Games fanfiction. What can I say.
Judith stood at the entrance to the Cornucopia, heart pounding in her chest, so fiercely that she thought it might break through. In her right hand, she clutched the morning star. Her shield was secured on her left arm. And in her fist, she held Cicely's gift: the lighter.
She could hear something crashing through the gardens, making its way towards her. Its snarls were getting louder. She was certain it was coming for her and Tully. But she had already made her decision: she wasn't going anywhere.
Judith held her breath and waited. The monster had left behind the gardens. She could hear its nails clicking on concrete as it reached the edge of the fountain. Far too close for comfort. Still, she didn't move. Not until she heard the sound she was waiting for…
Splash.
Judith raised the lighter, pressing it with her thumb. There was a bright flash. An instant later, the fountain lights had lit up with a burning intensity, flooding the area. The monster cringed as the security of darkness was torn from its grasp.
Judith's eyes went wide as she laid her eyes on the beast. It was a behemoth wolf—incredibly huge, so tall it was nearly at eye level. The wolf's shaggy coat was monochrome, split perfectly down the middle. Its right side white as the moon, its left black as night. It blinked its mud-brown eyes for a moment, adjusting to the sudden assault of light. Then its lips peeled back into a deadly snarl. One that was meant solely for Judith.
She dropped into a warrior's stance. "You're not getting past me," she said firmly, raising her weapon.
Rage flashed in the beast's eyes. With a roar, it launched itself across the fountain; its mammoth paws sending up waves.
Judith held her ground, despite all of her senses screaming at her to run. When the wolf was in reach of her arm, she swung her morning star. Despite its size, the monster had catlike reflexes. It sprang back, the spikes of the morning star just missing its nose. In the next second, it lunged, teeth snapping inches in front of Judith's face. She could feel its hot, rancid breath on her cheek.
Luckily, she got her shield up just in time. The wolf's snout collided with the shield, pushing her back. It was trying to force its way into the Cornucopia. Judith fought to keep it out.
She swung her morning star and shield again and again, keeping them as a barrier between her and the jaws of the wolf. Luckily, the Cornucopia kept it from attacking her at a different angle. She was able to force it out.
The wolf backed off for a moment, pacing back and forth. Water from the fountain matted its paws and belly fur. It was not so eager to leave.
Judith stood there, panting. She briefly wondered if she should attempt to go on the offensive and maim the wolf's legs. But that might be too greedy of her. She stayed where she was and waited for the next attack.
The wolf did not keep her waiting. It lowered its head and charged, teeth bared, eyes fixed on her legs. Apparently, the two shared the same idea. Judith bent her knees slightly, aiming to protect her legs from harm.
But at the last second, the wolf sprang into the air. Its jaws parted; ready to rip off her unprotected head. Judith threw her shield up in the single second she had. Then the full weight of the wolf crashed down upon her like a tidal wave. The sound of her shield breaking pierced the air. She could feel flecks of saliva raining down on her. The wolf was about to tear into her.
Then someone screamed, "Judith, look out!"
Tully sprang forth, face bright with terror, wielding her sword. It carved a gash right under the wolf's eye, on the white side of its face. The wolf yelped in surprise, immediately leaping backwards. Tully was brave enough to go in for a second swipe, but the wolf backed off even further.
Judith shakily forced herself to her feet, using her morning star as a crutch. Nothing seemed broken, but she ached all over. Still, she forced a glare at the wolf, trying to appear strong.
The beast seemed to glare right back. Then it turned and silently bounded away into the night.
Judith lowered herself back to the ground with a sigh.
Tully was instantly by her side. "Are you okay?! What happened?!" She asked breathlessly, shaking where she stood.
"My shield's broken," Judith lamented, attempting to pry its remains off her arm. As it grated against her wrist, she uttered a small yelp. Sharp pain radiated up and down her arm, originating from the bones in her wrist. She flexed her fingers and found she had difficulty doing so.
"Who cares about your shield? You should be concerned if any of your bones are broken!" Tully said, hovering over her like a concerned mother bird.
"I think…my wrist is broken," Judith said through clenched teeth.
"Oh no! I'll get a splint," Tully gasped. She darted to their pile of backpacks and began pulling out all sorts of medical supplies. While she did so, she chattered away. "I finished talking to everyone! I found Horatia in one of the hotel rooms. She says she'll join the three of us tomorrow morn…hey, where's Gliss?" She glanced around, confused.
Judith remained silent for a moment. Did she honestly not notice? "Gliss is no longer in this alliance," she answered simply.
Tully's eyes went wide with horror. "Is she…dead?" She choked out, her voice breaking slightly. "I'm sorry, I should have been here! What if this is because of me and my stupid plan…?"
"She's not dead," Judith grunted. "There hasn't been a cannon. And don't blame yourself, I doubt it's your fault." She returned the Cornucopia back to its darkened state, then gave the lighter back to Tully.
While her ally worked away at her wound, Judith sat there, staring into the darkness. Her hand was throbbing uncontrollably. Now that her adrenaline had faded, the pain had come on full force. She didn't even have any sponsor gifts to look forward to. If they were allowed this year, she was sure she would be a favorite. In the past, she always wanted to be able to sponsor the tough tributes. The fighters.
This just better not get in my way, Judith thought angrily.
The rest of the night, she stewed in feelings of anger and thoughts of revenge. Until it was time for her to sleep, and Tully's turn to take watch.
Casca remembered thinking last night was the longest night of his life. But now he realized that it was still going, and it would keep going for a week.
His alliance had charged him with the task of night watchdog. For the first hour or so, he managed just fine. He explored the house, checking every room for signs of danger, and made his way back to his snoozing allies each time. All appeared to be well.
But as the night wore on, Casca began to grow on edge. Nothing was happening. After the Bloodbath, there hadn't been a single cannon. What if Panem grew bored quickly and took their frustrations out on him? What if tributes didn't die fast enough? What if these Games stretched beyond a week? What would happen to him at the end of this week—if he even made it that far?
His mind was beginning to torture him. Every possible thing that could go wrong raced through his head. I can't stay here, Casca thought, feeling feverish. He ached to go outside. Be on the move. I'll go insane if I stay here much longer.
Before departure, he checked on his allies one last time. Zion had stolen the king-sized bed from Casca after he declared he didn't need it. He was currently immersed somewhere in the many covers, hidden from view. Chip was curled in a nest of blankets on the floor beside the bed, breathing shallowly.
Perrin was passed out in the bathroom, sprawled on a number of pillows in the tub. He was dead asleep. Every so often, a little moan escaped his lips. Casca wondered what he was dreaming about. He briefly wished that he had the ability to escape into his own dream world.
No, he scolded himself. This is a powerful sponsor gift. So use it.
Casca took his spear and dagger, zipped up his jacket, and set off into the night. It was fairly chilly. But once he got moving, he warmed right up.
Navigating the neighborhood, he kept to the shadows of the houses, approaching the skyscraper. At the top of it, the Capitol emblem flashed in the darkness. Lights blinked on the sides of the building too. It looked like a gaudy carnival ride. However, the rest of the rooms were dark. He figured most of the tributes would be hiding out within, but he wasn't sure where to start.
Suddenly, among the many darkened rooms, one lit up. It was a brilliant yellow square in the blackness. It was there only for a few seconds—then it vanished. But Casca had seen it.
He counted the rows and columns, pinpointing its location. Floor six.
A grin unfurled on his face. Whoever was there, it was time to pay them a little visit.
Mobius nearly cursed aloud when automatic lights detected his presence and flickered on. He made a beeline for the switch and turned them off, hoping no one had seen him.
Maybe I should go to a different room, he considered. Of course, the same thing would probably happen again. He might as well stay…but that didn't mean he wouldn't take precautions.
After allowing his eyes to adjust to the dimness, he got to work moving furniture in front of the door. For his scrawny limbs, it was no easy task. He was in desperate need of nourishment and sleep, too. But he couldn't sleep without knowing he was safe.
With this barrier, and his sponsor gift, he would be protected. After wandering the tower, he had managed to make his sensor go off. He could not have been more relieved to hear that irritating beep. His gift still worked after all.
Once he had blocked the door, Mobius drew the curtains closed and got into bed. He couldn't help but utter a relieved sigh as he settled down against the plush mattress. This is even better than my bed at home, he thought, snuggling his head against the pillow.
With a smile on his face, he quickly drifted off into a very comfortable sleep.
"Percy, time to wake up…Percy…"
"Mom?" Percy opened his eyes with a small moan.
Viatrix was peering back at him with an amused smile on her lips. "Sorry, just your friendly neighborhood Viatrix. Here to tell you that it's your turn to keep watch."
"Oh." Percy gritted his teeth, turning bright red. "I didn't think you were my mom. I was just…kidding. My mom wouldn't have woken me so gently, so I knew you weren't her."
Viatrix tried to stifle her snickers. "It's okay, I thought it was sweet."
"It was a joke!" Percy snapped.
"Okay, okay, shush! You're going to wake everyone up," Viatrix hissed, no longer laughing. Yeesh. If it was a joke, shouldn't I be allowed to laugh?
"Good night," Percy said hastily, getting up and moving towards the gazebo entrance.
Viatrix just shook her head and crawled on the throw blanket, stretching herself out next to Apollo. But not too close—she could see his fists were clenched tightly around his weapons. One rude awakening and that could be the end of it.
Percy sat shivering on the step of the gazebo. Every few minutes, he glanced behind him at his sleeping allies. His stomach felt like one big ball of nerves. At any moment, he expected the monstrous wolf to appear from around a hedge. He tried to listen for the telltale signs of danger approaching, but it was hard to hear past the constant chirping. The whirring drone of crickets continued on and showed no signs of stopping.
Percy waited a full hour before moving from his position. Until he could be sure every last one of his allies was dead asleep.
When it was time, he stood up and moved towards their pile of supplies. He had to step over Lance's body to reach it. As quietly as he could, he picked one of the backpacks up and slipped it on. Then he reached for the backpack full of weapons. As his hand touched one, they clinked against each other.
Apollo stirred. Percy drew his hand back, freezing where he was. His older ally rolled over with a grunt. Then he went quiet.
Percy abandoned the weapons. He took his one backpack, stepped delicately back over his sleeping allies, and exited the gazebo. He nearly let out a sigh of relief as his feet touched down on the grass. He took a few paces forward. Then—
"Where do you think you're going?"
Percy leaped straight up and around, terrorized.
There stood Lance, pointing his spear right at him.
Percy quickly regained his composure, though he could still feel his heart pounding in his chest. "I'm leaving," he hissed. "Got a problem with that?"
"…Maybe…" Lance answered in a low voice. His eyes narrowed.
Percy glared back, very aware just how sharp the tip of that spear was. "Look here, buddy," he spit. "This alliance only has room for one lying, manipulating, snot-nosed little brat…and it's you." He gave Lance his most angelic smile. "Have fun."
He began backing away. Lance didn't move to follow him. Just when he was about to turn and make a run for it, Lance spoke up.
"You're taking that bag?"
Percy paused. "Yeah. So?"
"Nothing. Have fun."
The backpack suddenly felt a little bit heavier. Percy could feel his face heating up. "What's wrong with it? What'd you do?!" He demanded, struggling to keep his voice soft.
"I said 'nothing,'" Lance replied, his expression flat. "Go ahead, take it."
Percy squinted at Lance through his bangs, trying to get a read on him. His mind raced to make sense of his actions. He hadn't seen Lance tamper with the bag's contents, though he wouldn't put it past him to try and poison his allies.
"…You know what, I think I will take it," Percy decided. "If you poisoned the food or some crap like that, I can deal. Just watch me. And don't come after me or you'll regret it."
Tricking him into returning the backpack didn't work, Lance realized. He had two options now. Wake Apollo up and let him deal with this, or take matters into his own hands. Eliminate Percy just like he did the deer tick.
Before he could decide, there was a loud chirp right by his foot. He jumped back with a small cry of surprise.
Before him was a large brown insect the size of a rat. It had the hairy legs of a cricket but, on closer inspection, it possessed the head and fronts paws of a mole. It looked as though someone cleaved a cricket and a mole, and then mashed the two halves together. Lance felt nauseated at the sight of it. I hate bugs.
Suddenly, the strange mole crickets were everywhere. All had gone silent. Now they were digging out of the ground, crawling from the hedges, hopping awkwardly with their back legs while their front paws struggled to pull them along—and they all seemed to be coming straight for Lance.
He backed away. Percy remained where he was, immune to the army of muttations that were gathering around them. After observing Lance's reaction, he bent down and actually picked one up.
Lance just watched in shock. He had a lot of nerve. As pathetic as these muttations appeared to be, they could be powerful in swarms.
Percy just grinned, cradling the mole cricket in his arms. Then he held it out to Lance as one might hold a puppy. "What's wrong? Don't you like them?" he sneered. "I'm truly shocked. After all, you were so heroic with that deer earlier today."
"That was diff—agh!" Lance jumped back as one attempted to climb his shoe. The deer tick had been distracted. It was easy to sneak up on and kill. But these things—there were so many. They were disgusting to look at. He felt the tension might break at any moment and they would attack with hidden sharp teeth.
Percy tucked the mole cricket into the hood of his jacket. "Like I said—don't follow me."
Then he vanished into the darkness, leaving Lance with the muttations.
For a minute, Lance just stood where he was, shaking slightly. But then, all at once, the mole crickets resumed their song. And one by one, they dropped out of the strange formation they had taken. Some hopped back into the gardens while others burrowed underground. The area was cleared within minutes.
Lance took deep breaths, trying to slow the beating of his heart. Stupid Percy, he thought furiously. He'd made off with the backpack and made a fool out of him. He wouldn't get away with this.
He had half a mind to wake Apollo up and tell him, but he wasn't sure how that would go. Apollo would be disappointed to know he'd let Percy go without a fight. And even more furious to know they'd lost half their supplies.
So Lance decided he had nothing to do with it. Percy had left during the night, and no one had been awake to stop him.
Beep...
Beep…
Beep…
The sound started out faintly, at the edge of his consciousness. It sounded like a sonar, reaching out for signs of life. Barely even there. Then it slipped into Mobius's dream. It took him a bit to realize what it was. When he did, he woke up with a gasp.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
His sixth sense. It was picking up speed. A tribute was on the move and they were headed this way.
As the sound got louder, Mobius automatically threw his hands over his ears, but it did nothing to block it out. He sunk into the covers of the bed, squeezing his eyes shut tight.
Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep.
He could sense them. They were right outside the door, and they had stopped. Someone knows I'm in here!
Mobius forced himself to remain calm and listen past the noise. Then he heard it—someone was jiggling the doorknob. But they couldn't force open the door, not an inch. There was too much weight against it. Mobius allowed himself a shaky smile.
After another minute of the unknown tribute trying and failing to get into the room, the sound began to fade. He's going away! The beeping slowed, and then quieted. Eventually, all went silent.
Mobius let out a huge sigh. This was a good place to be. He settled back into his cocoon of warmth and prepared to reenter his dreams.
Five minutes passed. Mobius had nearly achieved sleep when it came again.
Beep.
You've got to be kidding, Mobius thought, sitting up. He was beginning to get annoyed. Can't everyone just go to sleep already and save the killing for tomorrow?
He was confident no one could get past his blockade, but his sponsor gift was back to being a nuisance. He waited for it to go quiet once more, but it only seemed to be getting louder, decibel by decibel. It was slowly picking up the pace too. Mobius wondered if this was the same tribute or a different one. He guessed the latter, considering how slow they were moving this time around.
But then came a new sound. A strange, rhythmic clanging that Mobius couldn't place. It was distant, but steadily growing closer.
I think it's coming from outside. Mobius threw off his covers and went to investigate. He cautiously peeked through the curtains and out the window, but he could see nothing. It was too dark.
The muffled clanging continued, closer now. It's coming from below, Mobius thought, cocking his head to locate it the source. Unfortunately, he couldn't see straight down the side of the building. He figured he might as well open the window for a quick peek.
As soon as it was open, a blast of cool air hit his face. Mobius leaned forward, peered straight down—and found himself looking into the cold eyes of Casca Vaesley.
He was clinging to the side of the building like it was nothing. As soon as their eyes met, Casca offered him a wicked grin. He reached up, bringing his gloved hand onto the building's exterior with another clang.
Mobius slammed the window shut. He raced for the door, gasping. The sensor in his head was going wild.
Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep!
When he reached the door, Mobius let out a strangled cry. He was trapped. He began throwing himself at his barricade, ripping at the chairs, table, and drawers he had put there. But his muscles weren't cooperating. Everything had been stuck firmly into place and was refusing to budge.
CRASH!
Mobius looked behind him, terrified. Casca had broken through the window. There he stood, outlined by shattered glass. He was holding a spear.
BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP
Casca practically flew across the room to reach his prey. Mobius cried out and tried to dodge around him. He wasn't quite sure where he was going. All he knew was that he needed to get away, but his mind had gone blank with terror. His head felt like it was going to explode from the sheer volume of his sensor going off.
BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP
Casca easily grabbed Mobius's arm, throwing him down. Mobius's prosthetic legs gave out from under him and he hit the floor.
There was no time to react. Casca's spear went straight through his back and exited through his chest, spurting blood in every direction.
Mobius couldn't even hear himself scream. All he could hear was the droning wail within his mind, like a heart monitor that had just lost its patient.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.
Casca ripped the spear from Mobius's body, scattering more crimson droplets. A moment after he did, a cannon rang out across the arena.
A high-pitched laugh forced its way out of his throat. Blood was rushing through Casca's veins, empowering him. He felt like he could fly. Or dance. Instead, he just stood there, reveling in the feeling of pure invincibility with a large grin on his face. A grin that showed all of his teeth.
He knew he had felt something at the time he had killed Daphne, but he couldn't be sure. Now he knew. Each murder he committed brought him pure bliss. He would ride this high straight into his next kill.
And he would kill. Again. And again. He never wanted to lose this feeling.
He would kill until there was no one left but him.