Sorry, chapter upload didn't work the first time. Here's the real chapter

Over 200 reviews! WHOOHOO! This is four times as much as I've ever gotten on a story before! Thank you guys all so much for reviewing, you all totally rock!

So, once again I changed my mind about who would be dying in the bloodbath. It's so hard to kill off all of these wonderful characters! So because of the insane amount of reviews I got asking for her to live, she lives :) That means only 5 people are dying in the bloodbath. I'm sorry if that seems slightly unrealistic, since in Katniss's Games like, half the tributes were killed off the first day, but I didn't want to get rid of all these wonderful characters just yet! There were lots of injuries though to make up for it :)

Don't forget to check out the new poll on my profile to vote for your 3 favourite tributes! Help them go far in the Games!

So without further ado, the second part of the bloodbath! Thanks again for all the reviews, you guys are all amazing! :)

Achilles Atromitos, District 1 Male

The tridents clash in midair, sparks flying as the gleaming metal rods grind against each other, making an ungodly loud noise. But I don't have time to care about trivial things like that; the District 4 boy makes another swing and I lunge to the side, narrowly avoiding being skewered. "I think you're at the disadvantage," he manages to say as he sidesteps my retaliating blow. "I do live in District 4 after all. I've been training with a trident my whole life."

"Good to know," I say, swinging my weapon around and just missing his head as he ducks before spinning around and attempting to plunge his trident into my side. I hop backwards, landing on one of the crates stocked up at the Cornucopia and he tries to hit me again but misses, his weapon plunging into another box. Desperately he tries to tug it out, but it's firmly stuck in there. I could kill him, right now. I raise my trident, getting ready to drive it into his skull, but something stops me. My godfather showing Cordelia and I a recap of his Games on the train, trying to teach us how his strategy had worked. His first kill had been done the exact same way as I'm about to kill Perrin.

I drop my trident to my side and turn away from him, jogging around the Cornucopia. I know I've made a mistake that will probably come back to haunt me later, but I can't do it. Then the line between my godfather and I will become even more blurred and I don't know if I'd be able to live knowing that.

The whistling in my ears registers and I dive to the side right as a spear flies past me. Raising my head, I look back towards Perrin, who's holding another spear in his hand. It's pretty clear I'm not going to be able to get away from a fight with this guy without incapacitating him in some way or another. "Alright then," I say, hefting my trident. "Let's see how well you can adapt to other weapons."

Once again, metal clashes on metal as we meet again, only this time it's different weapons being used. He's pretty good with a spear, I'll give him that, but it still takes a bit of time for him to adapt to such a long rod, and he takes a swing at me that, had he a shorter object, such as his trident, would have been fatal, but because the spear is so long it's only the shaft that hits my arm, leaving a bruise and nothing more. However, he does manage to shake me and using his other hand wrenches the trident out of my grasp.

"Guess I win," he says, pointing the spear at my head.

Frantically my hand grasps for something behind me, anything that might be able to help, and I smile as my fingers wrap around a familiar feeling hilt. "Not quite." I swing the sword up just as he stabs with his spear and manage to the block the blow. "You're not the only one . . . who can adapt," I say in between attempts at landing a hit. He doesn't respond, just narrows his eyes as he concentrates hard on dodging my attacks, trying to succeed with one of his own. But slowly, I can feel him getting the better of me; his skills with a spear are better than mine with a sword. I need to find some way to end this now or magically gain the upper hand, otherwise this battle is not going to end well for me.

Suddenly, I remember my earlier move, and smile. As he tries to attack me once more, I jump onto one of the crates again. He laughs, thinking I'm doing this in order to try and make him lose the spear the same way he lost the trident, but he soon discovers that that's not my intention. Always fight from higher ground, if you can, my godfather used to say. One of the only pieces of advice I've ever taken from him.

I swipe the sword downward, thinking it to be another futile attempt at landing a blow, when I see the small trickle of red stain his blue shirt. He frowns at it, more annoyed with the fact that I managed to hit him rather than anything else. It wasn't a major injury, but it was a first. I allow myself a small smile in triumph, but I should have taken advantage of his surprise when I'd had the chance, because at that moment he leaps up onto the crate besides me and readies his spear. "Let's even the odds."

And we're at it again, weapons flying through the air, though as the minutes pass the small cut I gave Perrin is still the only injury either of us has sustained. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up though; what I need to do is find Imogen and get out of here. He swings again and I dodge as suddenly a window of opportunity flashes before my eyes.

Perrin lunges with the spear and I leap upwards, landing firmly on top of two crates stacked together. My opponent looks up at me, an irritated look clearly saying, oh, come on, written all over his face. I shrug and slice downwards, missing him by an inch as he jumps onto my now-abandoned crate.

The fight continues but opportunity seems to be shining down on me as our blades clash and I quickly twisted my sword, coming down on the metal shaft of the spear and knocking it from Perrin's hands. The two of us stare at each other for a second and then he makes a grab for the nearest weapon before swinging it around to face me. It's only then that the two of us realise what it is.

"Really?" I say, staring at the curved wooden stick he holds before him. Honestly, why would the Gamemakers even bother putting a boomerang in the pile?

He himself looks slightly disappointed, but with no other weapons nearby, it seems to be the only option, so he readies himself to fight again. I sigh and ready my sword, but just before the two of us can go at it again, a scream pierces the air. My whole body tenses and I can feel my throat closing, making it difficult to breathe. Imogen.

Perrin looks equally shocked and I'm surprised to find the slightest bit of horror in his expression. It must be one of his allies attacking her; no one else could best Imogen. So why is he looking so worried?

The two of us just stare for a second longer before Perrin's eyes flicker down to his weapon. He seems unsure as to whether to continue the fight or not, but my reflexes take hold and I react before he can make his decision. Perrin falls to the ground as my punch slams into his head and I don't stop to see whether he's unconscious or just a bit dazed; right now, it doesn't matter. I just have to get to my ally.

"Imogen!" I shout, not caring who hears me, in fact hoping someone does so I can draw them away. "Imogen where-?" But further questions are unnecessary as I round the corner of the Cornucopia and find myself staring in horror and the scene before me.

The monstrous boy from District 7 (Rowan or whatever his name was) is looming over a tribute so covered in blood I can barely tell who it is. It's only when he slices down with his meat cleavers and skims one of the few remaining strips of skin left on the tributes right arm and another nearly animalistic cry comes from the bloody victim that I realise with a shock that my ally is the one being tortured.

For a second I'm paralysed with terror, unable to do anything but watch as he lowers the knife again and almost artistically draws another deep line of red across her stomach. She shrieks again, though it's slightly muffled as though she's using all of her remaining strength to try and keep from making any sound. Of course she is, I think, remembering back to our conversation in the training room back at the Capitol. Already it feels like a lifetime ago. She's got a daughter at home probably being forced to watch this right now. She wants to spare her as much grief as she can.

It's this thought that snaps me out of my frozen state and without hesitation I charge at Rowan, slicing my sword through the air and aiming right for is head, hoping to end this sick psycho's life and do the world a favour.

Unfortunately, he's more skilled than that, and notices me soon enough to duck before the fatal blow can land. He rolls away and comes to a standing position a few feet from me as we face off against each other. Quickly, I assess the situation; he's got a few cuts on his arms and a blossoming bruise on his cheek, but otherwise the two of us are pretty much unharmed. The only problem is that I'm still slightly fatigued from my fight with Perrin; then again, Rowan doesn't look the most energetic either. Imogen wouldn't have gone down without a fight, I think, the smallest seed of pride growing inside me as I think of my ally's skills. But I can admire her strengths later; right now I have to fight for her life.

I charge Rowan and he side-steps, nearly cutting me open with one of his meat-cleavers but I manage to block it with my sword at the last moment. The problem is, he has two weapons and as he swings the other around I just manage to duck, though it was a close shave. Literally, I realise, as a few golden strands of my hair fall to the ground after being sliced off by Rowan's cleavers.

"Really, you should be thanking me," Rowan says as he blocks another of my hits with both of his blades, our faces inches apart as we try to push the other off balance. "I was just trying to help with her looks. Blood red is such an attractive colour." Suddenly he shoves forwards, and I lose my footing, barely managing to stay upright. But Rowan's always one to take advantage of an opponent's weakness; he swings the knife through the air and I grit my teeth as pain flares along my chest, the golden fabric quickly being overrun by streaks of scarlet as blood leaks out of the deep cut. He doesn't stop, slashing down again but hitting metal, not flesh as I bring my blade up to meet his. There's another clang as the weapons meet and the vibrations they cause nearly cause me to topple over again in my woozy, blood-lost state. But I have to hold on. For Imogen.

"So what do you think of her new look?" Rowan asks, his trademark smirk present on his face once more. He pushes me away and I stumble back before just getting my sword up in time to meet another one of his attacks. But I'm losing, I know it. "Personally, I think her daughter would like it."

For a moment his words don't register and I just stare at him, unable to process what he just said. Surprisingly, he doesn't attack; I guess Rowan's just as much about emotional pain as physical and he seems to be enjoying my reaction to his words. But then the meaning sinks in and despite my tired and slightly addled condition my vision fills with red as my hate of him intensifies six-fold. Someone roars, an alarmingly loud, guttural roar that sounds more like an animal than a human. Maybe it was from me.

I don't even register what happens but one second I'm frozen by his words and the next second my blade is swinging through the air so fast Rowan can't even react. I don't even see where I hit him, but the howl he lets out both satisfies me and chills me to the bone. So I did get him. But I never could have imagined Rowan of all people making that sort of cry of agony.

I go to stab at him again, make it fatal this time, but in the middle of its arc above my head the sword stops as I catch a sight of what my first swing did.

Rowan is staring, eyes wider than I've ever seen them and some sort of bloody stump he holds in his hand. Only I quickly realise with a sickening jolt that he's not holding anything; the bloody stump is his wrist, and his hand is lying a few feet away from us in a pool of scarlet blood.

The two of us just stare at the unattached limb for a second, its finger's still wrapped around one of the silver meat cleavers he used. I can't believe that I was responsible for that . . . that torture. I cut off his hand.

I look at Rowan and nearly flinch as my eyes meet his. He always had an intense gaze no one ever wanted to meet, but now the dark brown colour looks almost black projecting more hate and loathing than I thought one person was capable of. If he ever had a conscience, however small, it just died along with his hand.

"The two of you better watch your backs," he says, but his voice is raspier, more strained than usual. "I'll be coming." And before I can move he turns and sprints off in the other direction, trying to support his butchered arm and stop the flow of the blood. I hesitate for a second; I should go after him now, when he's weakened because I have no doubt that he will come after us later. And I might not be able to pull off another win.

But right now, my ally needs me. Imogen . . . I almost forgot about her in the heat of the battle. I turn around and run to the massacred tribute on the ground, praying that I'm not too late. The number of fighting tributes is slowly dwindling as more and more make their escapes over the edge of the tower or, in a few horrible cases, merely lie still on the ground and don't get up. We have a bit of time, but once everyone is gone the Careers will regroup and I don't like the odds of me trying to fight off Perrin, Meredith, Rowan and the rest of their little minions all at once.

Gently, I press two fingers to Imogen's throat, hoping, wishing, begging that I'll feel something. A pulse, no matter how faint.

Silence.

"Come on Imogen," I whisper softly, using my other hand to try and stop the bleeding even though she's cut everywhere and I don't even know where to start. "Don't die, don't die . . ."

Silence.

Despite myself, my fingers press harder against her throat. This is not how it's going to end; it can't be, she can't die before the Games have barely begun! What about our alliance, what about her family and friends back at home? She can't give up yet! But there's still no response and my eye sight blurs slightly as tears begin to form there. My fingers are still waiting for a pulse I've begun to fear they'll never feel because inside my heart I know that she's gone. She's really gone.

Sile-

Pulse.

I stare down at my fingers, not sure if what I just felt was real; it's possible that it was just some sort of sadness-induced hallucination. No, there it is again; a slight, hesitant flutter, almost non-existent. But there. And that's all that matters.

Now we just have to get out of here as fast as possible. I glance desperately around the edges of the tower, but of course, it only tells me what I already know. The only way we're getting off of here is by climbing down the ropes. I look back at Imogen, not wanting to move her in such a fragile state but knowing that if we don't leave soon, we'll be much worse off. But she can't climb in her condition. And I wouldn't be able to hold her and scale the ropes at the same time.

Suddenly, my eyes alight on a piece of equipment not too far from us; a small but strong looking coil of elastic cord. I snatch it up, and run back, whispering a quick apology to Imogen before heaving her off of the ground. Her face tightens and she lets out a wince as my arms rub against her injuries but it's a necessary evil. I can just see Meredith around the Cornucopia engaged with another tribute; it won't be long before she finishes them off and comes looking for more victims. And right now, we're walking targets.

I carry my ally over to the nearest escape rope and begin to wind the cord around the two of us so that we're secured together, facing each other. Hopefully that'll help to keep Imogen supported. Without hesitating, I grab the rope and we both awkwardly climb off the ledge and begin the descent to the base of the tower. For a scary second it seems like Imogen is going to slip right through the harness I made, but the cord holds firm and we stay attached. She grits her teeth as her back rubs against the rough stone of the building and opens one eye for the first time.

"A-Achilles?"

I almost miss her words, they're so faint coming from her mouth. She sounds so fragile and, well, tortured that I almost stop right then and there on the tower, not wanting to put her through more agony as we climb down. How could one person survive in this much pain?

"It's me, Imogen," I say, steeling myself and continuing our descent, ignoring my straining muscles as they try to carry the weight of us both. If she can still be alive after all that, I can handle bringing us to safety. "He's gone now, you're going to be alright."

She whispers something else, something I don't quite catch. "What?"

"Are there . . . c-cameras near . . .?"

It's an odd question to be asking in her predicament, but if it's so important to her that she can't rest without knowing the answer, I'll give her one. The rope sways slightly as I look from side to side, but we're high up off the ground. There's no way they could get a good shot of us from up here. "No, I don't think so."

She nods and then seems to allow herself to fall apart, burying her face into my shirt and breaking into quiet, agonising sobs. I can feel the tears running down her face and onto my chest, stinging as the salty water gets into the cut Rowan so kindly left for me, but I ignore the pain and let her weep as we descend the tower where her daughter won't be able to see her brave mother cry.

Devera Let, District 10 Female

I shake my head. "Oh Cally, what have you been doing?"

My district partner jumps back in shock until he realises who it is. "Devera," he says through gritted teeth as he finishes tying a piece of material over a wound bleeding profusely from his leg. "What are you doing?"

"I think I asked you that first," I say, but further explanation from him is unnecessary as I notice the bloody arrow discarded nearby. "Fight with the District 1 female, didn't you? Don't worry; I'll get her at some point." I glance around the Cornucopia where a few tributes are still battling. I still have yet to get my hands on a staff. Calican stares at me for a second as though he's not quite sure what to think of my statement or of me. After all, we never decided that we were 'officially' allies, but he is my boyfriend, the one who's supposed to do anything for me, so it's kind of obvious. But I sigh slightly; by the looks of how easily he managed to get himself wounded, it doesn't seem like he's as competent as I first thought. "Get yourself to safety honey, doesn't look like you'll do well in these kinds of fights. I'll meet you at the bottom." I give him a little wave and turn back to the Cornucopia to get my staff when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

"Devera," Calican says, looking from me to the ropes and back to me regretfully. "I-" He hesitates, thinking about something. Probably how much he loves me. He mutters something that sounds a lot like "I hope you're happy Keya" and then turns back to me. "Look, we have to get out of here. Let's head down one of the ropes and then get under the cover of the forest."

I smile at him. He's just so adorable sometimes! "Cally, you're very sweet, but I need to get my weapon, okay? Don't worry, I won't let anyone hurt you, you're just going to be alone for a few seconds," I finish slowly. Okay, so my dream man isn't as brave and courageous as I thought, but who knows? Maybe playing the knight in shining armor will be fun while Calican can take over the role of damsel in distress.

"Devera, neither of us are up for a fight against the Careers," he hisses quickly. "We need to get away while we still can."

"Get away from who?"

Calican freezes as a new voice reaches us and looks behind me, eyes widening in fear. I follow his gaze, turning until I find myself staring up into the eyes of the girl from District 4. "I guess that's a silly question," she says, holding her axe casually by her side. She smiles wickedly at us. "Who else would you want to get away from?"

Before I realise it, Calican's grabbed by hand and is pulling me away from this new tribute as fast as possible. I glance behind me to see her laughing, not even bothering trying to run after us, just slowly walking our way. Suddenly Calican jerks to a stop and I nearly slam into him, a move that would have sent us both over the edge of the tower. "Get down the rope, hurry!" he says, pushing me forwards and looking back at the Career, who's still walking casually, her eyes trained on us the entire time. "We might be able to make it a safe distance down before she gets here."

I stare at my district partner, seeing the fear in his eyes. And of course, part of me realises that I should be afraid as well. After all, one of the most vicious tributes in these Games is heading straight for us. But I never went into the Games worrying about death and I won't be starting now. After all, I've got Calican to protect me. But he's just as afraid, just as uncertain as all the other kids here. What if he can't protect me? And . . . what if I don't want him to die? I never knew him personally before the Games, but I've heard countless stories from Keya about her, him, Poe and Kastler and all their wild and crazy adventures. And then of course, I knew him through our week at the Capitol and found that he was everything she'd said; kind, smart, responsible, caring. No Devera, I think to myself. You're not supposed to actually fall for the guy.

All during the Capitol week my plans have been the same; find some guy who loves me immensely (Calican), allow him to sacrifice himself for me in the arena and then go home to find some equally, if not more attractive guy and marry him as a Victor of the Hunger Games. But I kind of like Calican. And I don't think that I could be the cause of his death.

So instead of climbing down and letting him fight off Meredith himself, I push him over the edge of the tower. But as I expected, he's strong and smart, and manages to grab the rope before he can hit the ground. It looks like it hurt his arms pretty badly to do that but at least he's alive. And half-way down the tower; so out of harm's way.

I turn to Meredith, whose closer now and without warning leap on her. Even she didn't expect me to become a furious little ball of energy, clawing with my fingernails and pounding her with my small fists, doing bits of damage even without a staff. Inevitably though, she pushes me off, her face no longer smiling as she holds me by the collar of my grey shirt. The axe lies abandoned on the ground behind her and I wait for her to pick it up, but she just holds me over the edge of the tower. "Let's see you fly now, Goose Girl," she sneers, and without warning, tosses me over the edge.

A shout goes up, maybe from Calican but I can't tell, the wind is rushing through my ears too fast. I grasp around frantically, trying to find something to hold onto, but Meredith is strong and she threw me pretty far from the edge of the tower. Too far to save myself.

So that's it then. My entire victory plan ruined because I fell for the guy. And now I'm falling to my doom. I guess that's got a bitter sense of irony to it. I nearly laugh. Well, this is it, Devera. Calican's safe, but you're dead. Way to go.

But you can never really get rid of me, I think, smiling to myself. That District 4 girl was pretty stupid. Throwing me over the edge . . . like that'll work. Because I am the Goose Girl. And geese don't fall. My smile widens and I stretch my arms out, the grey material of my shirt flapping wildly, like wings. You can't get rid of me. And just as part of me registers a crashing, bone-breaking impact, I close my eyes and finally, I fly.

Calican Sareamer

I never meant to ally with Devera in the first place. Sure, an alliance would have been nice, but she would definitely not have been my first choice. Still, she's Keya's sister and it's pretty much my duty to look after her.

I didn't know what to think when she pushed me over the edge. She's done with me, she's a tad insane, she's just really, really clumsy; could really have been any of these things. But while I hang onto the rope, resting my arms that felt as though they'd just been jerked out of their sockets and I look up to see Devera dangling over the edge of the tower, held by that evil girl from District 4, I knew why she'd done it. She'd saved me; I don't know why, but she'd helped me get away from a painful death at the hands of a Career. And in that moment I finally began to genuinely appreciate Devera. And then Meredith lets go and she begins to fall.

"No!" I shout, swinging the rope wildly in an effort to grab her, to reach her, to do something, but the Career threw her too far and she's lost to me. I stare in horror as she crashes to the ground, wanting to look away but not being able to. She can't be gone. She can't be.

I nearly jump out of my skin as the rope I hold spins wildly. Looking upwards I see Meredith give me a wave before continuing in her attempt to saw through the sturdy cord, literally cutting my life line away. Something inside of me hardens and I begin to slide down the rope as fast as I can, ignoring the burning sensation in my hands; whatever happens, she will not kill us both. Not on my watch.

In the end I fall for all of ten inches when the rope finally cuts through. I look up to see a prominent frown on her face, visible from all the way up here, but she disappears from the edge soon. I guess I'm not important enough to chase.

I look around and sure enough, there lies Devera only a few feet away from me. I can feel the tears springing to my eyes and resist the urge to look away or throw up or both. This is my district partner, my friend's sister and the one person who pretty much ended up saving my life. She deserves to have my full attention at least once, since I never really gave it to her while she was alive.

Slowly I walk towards her and now the tears are freely rolling down my cheeks as I glimpse the broken, mangled bones, the blood oozing out of her shattered body and pooling around her cracked skull. A small sob escapes my lips as I realise that despite the mangled condition of her body, her eyes are closed almost peacefully, her mouth tilted up in what might be considered a smile. That's what really breaks me.

For awhile, I just sit there and sob next to Devera's broken body. I've failed her and my friends as well. Keya could never forgive me for this; maybe over time she could if I had just come out of the arena doing my very best to protect her sister, but I didn't. In fact, I was the one who ultimately got her killed. And now she's gone forever.

Catherine Street, District 6 Female

I stare in horror as I watch the District 2 girl pull her sword out of the District 9 boy's stomach. He chokes, blood bubbling up from his mouth as he tries to say something unintelligible, his hands clutching his stomach as he tries to keep himself from bleeding out. Or maybe he just likes the colour; he always seemed slightly off.

Rhine wipes her sword and turns to me with an evil grin. "So, Catherine, was it? Little Catherine. How does it feel to finally be in the arena?"

I swallow hard and look around, but there's no escape; I'm right up against the edge of the tower, and one step backwards would equal my downfall. Literally.

She notices my frantic glances and laughs. "There's really only one way out of this situation little Catherine." She raises her sword. "I can show it to you, if you'd like."

Without warning, she lunges at me and my brain is ignored as instinct takes over and I step back to avoid it. Not that way! My thoughts scream in my head. Not that way!

But despite my efforts to regain my balance, my arms cart wheeling madly but uselessly. I'm going over the edge. Rhine just watches, smirking as I fall almost in slow motion over the tower and begin the long descent to the cold, hard ground. Just like in my nightmare. Only this time, it's a reality.

Screaming, I desperately try and grab onto something, anything that could stop my fall. That boy managed to do it. Dylian, the one from 11, he was right next to me and I watched him jump and yet, live. So I should be able to do it too. I should, I should . . .

There! Rough, scratchy material that could only be the rope. My fingers curl frantically around it, latching me on to the one thing that might be able to save my life. My whole body wrenches upwards as my plummet stops, my arms burning so much that I almost let go again. And yet, at the same time, I'm laughing. I can't quite understand why; the adrenaline rush maybe? The fact that I just survived death at the hands of a Career against all odds? But it's not over yet. I glance upwards, certain that I'll see Rhine sneering at me as she saws the rope as yet another attempt to kill me, but no one's there. She must have gotten occupied with some other tribute. Or she didn't bother to check that I was dead.

I begin to finish my descent down the tower, thankfully a much slower rate than it used to be. I land firmly onto the hardly packed soil, the forest right behind me and stare up at the tower, smiling slightly. The bigger they are, the harder they fall, I think to myself as I turn to leave the Cornucopia behind. Good thing you think I'm 'little' Rhine, or I might have actually died there.

Malia Endal, District 12 Female

"Hold still, I need to bandage this."

"We have to keep moving or we'll be found and killed."

"Relax, no one's going to find us! We're all spreading out in different directions."

"Then mutts will, or something. We have to keep moving."

I frown at Noah, but he's pretty stubborn and I can see there's no way he'll be letting me wrap up the gash he got from the District 2 male unless I can somehow do it while we walk. Well, I've tried that up to this point, and it really doesn't work. Of course, knowing the slightest thing about medicine might help. I sigh; wish one of us had been born in District 6.

We continue our walk, not really knowing where we're going but in all honesty, anywhere away from that tower is fine by me. The trees here are pretty thick and though at first glance from the top of the tower it looked just like the woods outside of District 12, now that we're in the forest I can see that I was wrong. I can't put my finger on it, but something's not right about this place. The leaves are too green, the animals look non-dangerous and the whole place almost seems to sparkle in the sunlight. But despite its deceiving appearance, there's something darker and more sinister that hides here. Something that just chills me to the bone. I shiver unconsciously; and to think, we're going to have to spend the night in here.

BOOM!

I gasp and nearly jump out of my skin, whirling around and looking for the source of the noise before realising that it's just a cannon. No, not just a cannon; a symbol, a representation of a child's life that was lost today. The thought makes me almost feel sick.

BOOM!

I glance at Noah, wondering what his reaction is to this, but of course he's just, well, Noah. Stony faced, no emotion showing, although one eyebrow is raised in surprise. Together we wait in the silence of the woods for the rest of the shots.

Three more times the cannon fires, three more tributes forever lost to the world. That makes five in all. I guess tonight, we'll find out who they were. Our eyes meet and though no words are spoken, we start walking again, faster than before to the point where it's almost a slow jog. The bloodbath is over; now the Games have truly begun.