A/N: Newest chapter is here! There's an important notice for you at the bottom, so please don't forget to look at that. Anyway, read, enjoy and review!
He was bored. Ever so bored. And that meant that the people in the Capitol were bored too. Terkast sighed, his eyes skimming the screens once more. At first, he found the idea that nearly all of the tributes were comatose was comical. Now, after nearly three hours of rest, he was getting uneasy.
"We need to wake them up," he snapped to his fellow Gamemakers. They all jumped, which gave Terkast a slight reprieve in his bad feeling.
Baheera snorted, and Shanna raised her hand slowly. Terkast laughed inside again; what was she, a child? "Yes, Shanna?" he asked patiently.
"How do you suggest we do that, sir?" she responded, her voice meek and quiet.
Terkast shrugged. "I don't know, personally. There has to be something, right?" He turned to a small monitor in front of him and pushed random buttons. "Smelling salts!" he exclaimed suddenly, making everyone jump again.
A look of general confusion greeted Terkast, so he sighed and began to explain. "Used since… forever, actually. They release ammonia gas when activated, which usually wakes unconscious people up. There's always the chance that they might die from an overdose, but I think we should try!"
Baheera nodded, his mouth set in a firm line. A few other Gamemakers followed his lead, nodding as they appraised the situation. "Cera," Terkast announced, "smelling salts the arena where the tributes are. I think it'll work."
A loss hissing sound filled the arena as the colorless gas was released. Cree gasped, her eyes flying open as she raised her hand to her head. "What the hell?" she asked. The sun was beginning to set, but the outcropping of rock she pulled herself under saved her from its blistering rays.
She fluttered about for a few seconds in the sand, her hand quickly brushing over her body. "I'm alive?" she asked happily, feeling over her face. Cree paused for a few seconds when she felt the hole in the center of her face, and examined it a bit closer. Terkast could feel her mindset: she'd rather lose her nose than her life.
Wolf sat straight up in shock, his hand going to his chest. "Perfectly good dream," he muttered. He also patted down his clothing, pausing in interest at the bloodstains on his shirt. He glanced over at the activated trap, frowning slightly when he realized the knife was missing.
A large puddle of blood was within the wires, growing maroon and tacky with each passing second. Wolf stood up shakily and stumbled away from it, weaponless as usual.
A short distance away, Arrett was coming to his senses. He felt around in the longer grass, and sighed to himself. He was still covered in dirt and grime, but his face was entirely happy. He crowed with joy, and stood up to watch events unfold in his home District.
"I told you they'd work," Terkast said, not taking his eyes off the screen. Joss was unconscious for a few seconds longer than everyone else, making the Head Gamemaker worry. If he didn't wake up in a few more minutes, the ammonia will smother his system and Joss would die.
"Come on," Cera whispered, her finger poised above the button. "Terkast, he's going to die!" The Head Gamemaker shook his head, watching the events unfold. The Career's breathing was very quick and unlabored, but yet he still didn't open his eyes.
"Stop it where the other tributes are," Terkast ordered, standing up so he could watch the screen harder. Cera obeyed, the hissing noise diminishing greatly. "Joss will wake up, he has to."
Everyone's eyes, and all the cameras being shown to the Districts, were on Joss' unconscious form. With a gasp, Joss awoke coughing.
Terkast's body immediately relaxed and he sat back down in his chair. "Told you," he announced. Joss doubled over in the sand, coughing up blood. Terkast felt momentarily bad for the boy, but pushed it aside. It's not his fault his body didn't respond to a potentially deadly chemical.
"Now, we just have to wait for the tributes to begin attacking each other. It shan't take long." Terkast spun around a few times in his chair, releasing the pent up frustration that still plagued him.
Cree stood up shakily, grabbing onto the rock to hold herself steady. She grabbed her tomahawk in one hand, tossing it lightly back and forth. "Five more?" she asked herself, holding up a hand. "How long was I out?"
She looked up at the setting sun, nodding as she did the calculations in her head. "Not that long, I hope," Cree whispered. She took a step out from under the rock and stretched her arms and legs.
Cree glanced around, gauging the remainder of the arena. With a sigh, she started up a light jog towards the left. "If she continues on that course, it's dead straight for Joss," Juniper reported, moving a few levers up.
"Good," Terkast laughed. "I wanted a Career showdown with these two." Joss still sat in the sand, feeling up his broken leg.
The Head Gamemaker pushed aside his empty plates to watch, and they were quickly collected by a female Avox. The small boy who was often seen came over, a haphazardly folded note clenched tightly in his hand.
He handed it urgently to Terkast before rushing back over to the other side. The Head Gamemaker 'hrmphed' and opened the messy note. What he saw inside shocked him. "I thought people gave up on Joss," he laughed to himself. "The leg certainly isn't going to help him. But this might."
"Hulton? Hulton?" Terkast called across the board, and the younger Gamemaker looked up. "Joss is still in this fight, other than being a quick kill."
The younger Gamemaker looked around in confusion, unsure of whether or not Terkast was sane. "Four thousand dollars," Terkast announced. "A shot of adrenaline. Hopefully it'd keep him alive."
Hulton nodded vigorously, shifting through the multiple pages of gifts. Terkast had to admit, that was a very intelligent sponsor gift. Lippert had to have been saving the entire Games for this. It was a large sum, which would explain why the only District Four tribute hadn't gotten anything previously.
"Uhm, what kind do you want it in?" Hulton asked, the page filled with adrenaline pictures.
Terkast sighed, knowing there was only one true solution. "We want a quick response from the adrenaline. Cree's getting closer, make it one he can inject."
Hulton nodded, tapping the picture and sending it into the arena with a low whistle. "Let's just hope it works," Terkast whispered, watching the parachute's descent into District Four.
Joss looked up hopefully, but his face fell a little as he saw the small size. Terkast placed his hands in a steeple and rested them on the desk as he watched the events come unfolded.
It was easy to see that Cree had been training all of her life. Her jog was light, quick and efficient. Already she had crossed over the wasteland of District Five and was making her way quickly through District Eleven.
District Four was next. Cree was doing a quick sweep of each District, and Terkast hoped that she didn't overlook Joss. It would be hard to accomplish, since he was out in the open, but it could be done.
Joss received the parachute, tearing it open in eagerness. He looked confused at the small syringe, for his mentors didn't tell him about anything like this. Adrenaline, pure adrenaline, was rarely used, and Terkast could swear it was only documented twice.
He played with the syringe for a few minutes, squeezing a few drops out and trying to garner a scent from the odorless liquid. "Cree will see him in three, two, one," Cera announced, her hands moving around the board.
Like she said, Cree's head snapped up as she viewed the sitting boy in the light sand. She went to sprint to him but thought better of it. "Good girl," Terkast muttered, remembering the time she had last vaulted herself into a fight.
Cree inched around to the left, her eyes sharp as she tried to discern what way was safest for her. She noticed he was facing forward, and began to walk towards the waterline. The waves hid the sound of her footsteps while the rolling dunes kept her hidden if she crouched.
Terkast frowned. It was good that she was beginning to realize that running straight into a fight was comparable to death. However, if she caught Joss by surprise, it would take away the epic Career showdown he had planned in his head.
The four thousand dollars looked impressive in his collection, so Terkast shrugged his shoulders. Showdown or no, whether or not Joss used the adrenaline didn't matter. Terkast got his money, and he was happy with that.
Cree crept closer, like a lioness stalking an unaware zebra. She kept her breathing light and her steps quick. Again, it was easy to see the years of training that defined her life.
Joss took the syringe and whispered a prayer before jamming the thin needle into his leg. He gasped as he pushed down the plunger and the liquid was released into his injured leg. Cree watched in confusion at the sight, and her lips curled back as she viewed the parachute in the sand.
She watched warily as Joss started breathing heavier, confused as to what was exactly in the parachute. He tossed aside the used syringe, and tried getting to his feet.
Cree saw his moment of weakness and took a step forward, brandishing her tomahawk high. Joss caught a glimpse of the predator, and exclaimed loudly as he fell to the ground. "No!" he shouted, trying to pull himself backwards.
"Shame," Cree whispered, moving in while swinging her tomahawk. She spied the pools of blood, raising her eyebrows at the obvious signs of a struggle. She gave a war cry as she raised her tomahawk high, but screamed with Joss as he swung his foot around.
His broken leg connected with her whole ones, causing her to plummet to the ground. The weapon skittered out of her hands as she hit the ground harshly. Joss moaned loudly, clutching his leg as he writhed about in the sand.
Cree reached up and punched Joss, her fist glancing off his skull. Joss let loose another scream, grasping his head in agony. He opened his eyes and Terkast could see the left one was staring into the distance, completely off from the other one.
He reached forward and grasped for Cree, leaving deep furrows in her skin with his nails. He leant forward and hit her chest, making her scream. The fight of cripples was exciting to watch, in the least.
Cree battered around Joss' head, making his crooked eye jiggle a little in his socket. The sight was sickening, and Terkast couldn't imagine what it must feel like. Joss moaned, but returned a few quick punches to Cree's sides and arms. The adrenaline was working well, and surmounted to a large amount with his body's adrenaline.
He leant forward and thrust his arm out, connecting with Cree's forehead. Joss' fingers seemed to be misplaced, but he didn't feel it in the heat of the battle. He landed another punch in the center of her forehead, and Terkast could see that Cree was beginning to tire of this game.
She swiftly raised her foot in an act of superhuman flexibility and kicked Joss square in the face. He screamed as her foot connected, and he fell back into the sand.
Cree scrambled to her feet, using the few seconds she had bought wisely. She eyes flashed across the sand, looking desperately for her weapon. She smiled as she found it, and quickly scooped it up into her hands.
Joss was beginning to overcome his brief desperation, and was trying to stand up. "Not today," Cree snarled, bringing her tomahawk down fiercely.
Terkast winced as the weapon pierced the District Four boy's flesh, embedding itself deep into his neck. The blade was stuck deep within Joss' neck area, and he was gasping like a fish out of water. All signs of struggle left his body, and Terkast reckoned that she had severed his spinal cord.
Cree planted her foot on Joss' shoulder and wrenched at the tomahawk lodged deep in the District Four tribute. On the third try she finally broke it free, and she stared down at Joss as he bled out. She smiled angrily as he died, and spat at him.
She didn't leave, watching dutifully until his cannon finally rang out. "Three more!" she called to the sky, holding up her hand with three fingers up.
Terkast nodded, satisfied on how the cards played themselves. That was exactly the Career showdown he was looking for, though it could have been longer. The Capitol citizens must be happy with it, also.
Cree sat down in the sand for a few minutes, watching as the hovercraft appeared and plucked out Joss' body. Blood dripped down to the sand, marking District Four as one of the bloodiest in the arena.
She got up again, stretching her arms as she did so. She felt around her body, pausing as she felt the places Joss bludgeoned her. They were surely to be bad bruises later.
Terkast sat back in his chair. Four tributes left. This was turning out surprisingly well, and he suspected the Games would be over within a day or two. It would keep the Capitol happy and allow him to retire in peace.
Cree began moving again, to rescan to Districts and hopefully find some more tributes to dispatch herself. She was close to victory and only had three kills to make before she was crowned and taken home. Terkast could imagine her younger sister's face when Cree came back alive.
What was her name…? Yukina? No, Yakama. It would be sweet to have her smiling face plastered all over the Districts. However, Cree would have gathered quite a lot of hate from the people of the District. Other than the mutts and voting, she killed off the majority of the tributes. Her Victory Tour wouldn't be pleasant at all.
Four tributes left. Cree was trying to rustle up some more prey, but the others weren't as active. Arrett was walking wistfully through District Ten, almost on the edge. His bow was clenched tightly in his hands, an arrow nocked in ready. He stepped into District Seven, watching warily as the trees waved their branches angrily at him.
"Jahall," Terkast muttered. The Mutt Designer looked at him, prompting him to continue. "If he gets close enough, set them on him. We want more fights, and he's nowhere near the other tributes."
She nodded, turning back to the screen. Terkast did also, yawning as he did so. He felt around for his goblet, smiling when he felt its cold metal. He took a large swig, hoping the effects would take affect soon.
Wolf was sitting alone in District Twelve, watching as the sun dipped below the horizon. Terkast frowned. "Clouds. Heavy on the horizon. Threaten rain," he demanded rapid fire.
Cera nodded, her fingers moving fast as she manipulated the weather within the arena. The beautiful sunset was quickly eaten by clouds, making the arena much darker than it should have been.
Wolf frowned, standing up and dusting his pants off. He glanced around for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. Terkast wanted to push him somewhere, for standing there was doing nothing. There were only four tributes left, so he would have to move to make kills. The Games would end without some participation on his point.
He yawned, stretching his arms over his head. With a reckless step to the left, Wolf began his journey out of District Ten. He made so much noise that Terkast was skeptical that the other tributes couldn't hear his flight.
"Wrong direction," Terkast muttered to himself. If he was to have a victor within two days, he would have to take matters into his own hands and direct the tributes to their fights.
"Jahall," he spoke up, "Herd Wolf towards Cree. Use Sleipnir and the horses. He has no clue what they are, so they'll spook him into the right direction."
Jahall nodded, moving icons around on her screen until it was centered on the horses. "Come on, Sleipnir, you beautiful eight-legged beast," she whispered, pressing a few buttons.
A whinny was heard on the steadily growing wind, making Wolf turn around in fear. The ground rumbled beneath him, the hooves sounding like thunder as they approached. Wolf turned around on the spot, gasping when he saw the horses galloping towards him.
He screamed, much like he was expected, and bolted away from the angry beasts. His lack of physical activity previously caught up to Wolf, and he was soon panting. Although the mutts had started out very far away from the panicking tribute, they were easily closing the gap.
"No, no, no," he screeched, willing his legs to go faster. Sleipnir rose on his hind legs, waving the other six in the air. The mutt was designed to kill any males that dared step into his realm, and Wolf was no exception.
District One was just a few paces away, and Wolf sprinted towards them. What the younger boy didn't know was that the horses, though programmed to brutally murder any male, wouldn't hurt him. The President would have Terkast's head if any mutts killed the tributes this late in the Games. Sleipnir and his herd was just a tool to get Wolf closer to Cree.
Wolf dove for the boundary line, landing in hard, crushed black gravel. His palms came up bloody, but Wolf was safe. Sleipnir thrust his head down to Wolf's eyelevel and snorted angrily. The boy shuddered involuntarily, but he was no longer in any perceived harm.
Wolf sniveled quietly as Sleipnir whinnied to the other horses, prancing on the line he wasn't able cross. The boy probably thought that the horses were mutts. Well, they were. Sleipnir especially. But he probably thought the species in general was a muttation.
Terkast laughed to himself about the thoughts that were chasing themselves around in his mind. He dearly hoped that the Games would end soon. He couldn't deal with another day that didn't hold the prospect of sleep. Too much was balanced on his shoulders, and he couldn't leave.
A cannon boomed, making Terkast snap his head to the screens. "Who just died?" he nearly screamed, upset that he missed such a vital death in the Games.
"Tristan, sir," Hulton answered, pointing to the boy's screens. They flickered for a second before divvying themselves up between the last three tributes.
"How? How did he die?" The cameras were focused on Cree and Wolf, both of which he had been watching carefully. Which meant that either Tristan killed himself or Arrett killed him.
Juniper pointed to Arrett's screens. "The District Ten boy. He found Tristan a while ago and had been aiming. It was actually a beautiful shot. Right through the eye."
Terkast watched as Arrett walked over to Tristan's corpse, examining the wound. The District Nine boy died instantly, without much pain. The twelve year old crouched down, and tugged the bloody arrow out of Tristan's plain face. He wiped a few strands of brown hair off the shaft before tucking it securely back into its quiver.
"So… he can use that weapon," Terkast muttered, still in awe over the kill. That left three tributes left in his deadly game. He hadn't given much thought to the young boy, for he always thought the boy to be useless and still alive only by avoiding other tributes.
Cree looked up at the sound of the cannon, a smile blossoming on her face. "Two more!" she announced, positively beaming.
Terkast nodded along with her. He would have to usher Arrett near Cree and Wolf. There were only three more tributes, and two were on a collision course. He would love to see who would come out alive. He had a growing suspicion who would, though.
There were two twelve year olds and an eighteen year old. Complete opposites on the Hunger Games age spectrum, which would provide an interesting twist.
"More food," he announced to the room. An Avox stepped forward, bowing her head graciously. "Anything, really. I just need something to calm my nerves."
It happened time after time. Food quelled his nerves, making the sleep deprivation a little easier to manage. This late in the Games, anything could happen. He needed something to look forward to, and the food fulfilled that promise.
"Two more deaths," he called out. His excitement was growing, and Terkast felt like he could run a mile. Everyone would enjoy the ending. Everyone.
A/N: And, we're almost at the end! Did you guys like this chapter? Tell me in reviews! I have two requests. One: please vote on the poll! We have a ten way tie, and that isn't very helpful. Two: please tell me if I should/should not have a semi-sequel to this story. But this time, it'd be a SYOT. Ok? Thank you!