Hey y'all!
Another chapter is HERE :D

READ – EXTREMELY IMPORTANT:
There is something at the end of this fic which will probably make you hate me, BUT be sure to know THIS ISN'T THE END. PLEASE BE AWARE OF THAT. *Spolier* Clove WILL live, I promise :3

WARNING:
Katniss and Peeta are going to die in this chapter.

Born to Die

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Victory is a choice

Disclaimer, Point's of View, Characters (including O/C's) and Pairings list:
See Chapter One.

...

A harsh, deep growl emerged from behind me.

"C-Cato?" I stammered.

"Mm?" He replied.

"Did you...Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Grr..."

Cato's eyes widened, and we both whipped our heads around.

Before us stood a large, growling, slobbering...Thing.

Cato took my hand as we stumbled to our feet.

I could form but one thought.

"RUN!"

-Day seventeen, late night, the Hunger Games-

Everything happened in a single horrible, bloody blur.

Cato forced me in front, never taking my hand away from his, allowing him to receive the full blows of the...Things behind his.

Thank God for his armour I thought – for each claw strike accompanied with a low growl was deflected by Cato's armour. He'd have died minutes ago if it weren't for that armour.

Somewhere, somehow, Katniss and Peeta had arrived. Oblivious as ever, all they did was stare – they had to move – or we'd stumble into them and become a gruesome mutt's snack.

"RUN!" I hissed at them, voice breaking in distress. Katniss, not bothering to pay attention, tried to shoot arrows at us – then she heard the roar.

"MOVE!" Cato added for emphasis, shoving me forward – attempting to keep me as far away from the mutation's claws. If that's what those things were.

District Twelve sprinted for their life, all four of us being trailed by slobbering, snarling beasts with seemingly everlasting energy.

There was no escape. We'd run for how long? Five, six hours? We'd need to stop for breath, sleep, hydration, nutrition...Anything. They'd just go on and on. The biggest mystery was which need would become so urgent it would get us killed first.

"Go, Katniss. Go!" Peeta's hissing, being weighed down by his leg – which is still clearly damaged, if not infected.

Suddenly, my surroundings become clearer – even though it's the dead of night the golden cornucopia shines against the moon's ray.

Katniss is scaling the cornucopia with difficulty. Where the golden horn resembles one we use during the harvest, being in the sun all day has insulated the metal, clearly scalding the Girl on Fire's hands.

"Climb!" Katniss reaches the top, and demands Peeta to follow her.

Enemies or not, we stood a better chance against the misfits of District Twelve than against a varying pack of mauling mutt's.

"Come on!" I hiss to Cato, who's still trying to push me away from the deranged creatures. He catches on, giving me a leg up to climb the horn. Typical, always thinking about me.

I wave my hand down, pulling the blonde up. Using his sword as a pick, Cato's soon making his way to the top of the golden horn with me.

As expected, the wolf-like creatures are unable to reach us, clawing the edges of the metal – standing on their hind legs.

Quickly, I scan the area. The mutations...Look similar.

That's when I notice.

"Cato!" I hiss, squeezing his hand. "Look at them!"

"Yes, they're mutations. I've figured it out, Clove," Cato panted; impatient.

"No, look at them." I demand, and as his features turn into a mix of recognition, realization and horror, I know immediately Cato's noticed it too.

The mutations...They're like the dead tributes.

A sprawl of blonde hair and savage blue eyes, Glimmer, dark skin and ratty hair, Jace, light curls and green iris' – Kelly...

They're all there.

Marvel, Kelly, Glimmer, Jace, Thresh, Rue...Poor Rue.

The small girl/wolf stares at me with hungry eyes. She looks so different, yet so similar.

Are these the actual tributes mixed with mutation DNA, or are these replicas?

I desperately clung to the idea that these were replicas – there were far too many. I could see at least seven of the District Five female alone.

"Oh God..." Cato muttered, but then remembered the situation. Grabbing his sword, he turned to District Twelve.

It's them or us.

"So this is how it ends..." I mutter, drawing a knife and glaring into Peeta's eyes.

Katniss and Peeta have clearly had their own spurt of recognition, for Peeta's staring into some poor mutation's eyes with deep pity, where as Fire Girl just looks disgusted.

Cato and I draw closer – one hand holding our weapons – the other encased in one-another's.

Fire Girl's eyes flicker to our hand hold, and a look of cunning crosses her face.

Before I even realise what's happening, Katniss has broken our handhold with an arrow, pulled me forward and holds one of my own knives to my throat.

"Jump or she dies."

-LineBreaker-

Cato looks as if he's been hit by a freight train. Not even considering another option, he grabs Lover Boy and grabs him into a headlock.

Katniss spies his armour, and aims her bow at Cato's head.

"Shoot me and he goes down with me," Cato laughs, clearly trying to cover his fear.

Peeta is slowly suffocating; lips turning blue, but that still doesn't help my situation.

"Say I wait for you to kill him, what then? Clove will still be here, and she'll still die if you don't jump." Katniss teases, but looks scared for Peeta herself. Scared being the operative word...Something tells me that the District Twelve lovers aren't so star-crossed.

At this Cato's features drop. "Listen...Let Clove go. I'll release him if you let Clove go," Katniss scowls.

"How do I know you'll do that? How do I know you won't just kill Peeta the second I let her go?"

Cato looks deeply frightened – no, petrified.

If Cato just dropped Peeta...And if I somehow got Katniss to fall, too...

"C-Cato..." I stammer, but the blade is drawn closer – touching my skin.

"Don't. Say. A. Word." Katniss demands, her voice surprisingly sinister.

Below, mutations riot, blood-curdling cries hissing from their mouths, talons scraping the edge of the golden horn.

Cato genuinely looked as if he was going to drop Peeta. I had to do something.

'Don't drop him.' I mouth, instantly Cato catches my words – raising an eyebrow in confusion. 'I have a plan.' I mouth again.

The blonde gives me a strange look, one as if to say 'I hope you know what you're doing.'

I hope I do, too. If this goes wrong, there may be no victor at all.

'Keep her talking.' I mouth.

Instantly, Cato complies. "Says who that if I do drop Lover Boy you'll drop Clove?" He challenges, trying to hide the worry poisoning his perfect pitch.

"You have my word,"

"And if you release Clove you have mine," Cato quips.

At this, Katniss frowns. Peeta is clearly losing consciousness, but is leaning down to something...

"If he dies before you release him, Clove's throat will be wide open." Katniss emphasises, Cato instantly glances at me.

'Keep it going,' I mouth, trying to ignore my heart hammering rapidly against my chest in stone-cold fear.

"We release them together?" He suggests. Katniss seems to brew this over, till Peeta lifts his finger – painted in blood.

He draws an X on Cato's palm, and I soon realise what he plans.

Perfect...

Katniss is leaning for her bow...Distracted, I mouth to Cato:

'Drop him. NOW.'

Cato complies, and I choose that moment to push Katniss backwards.

"AGH!" She screams, her pitch loud.

The Girl on Fire is hanging onto the edge with her fingertips only.

"Push him over," I demand to Cato.

"NO! PEETA!" Tears are streaking her face.

"Katniss...You've been a worthy opponent. I'm glad we shared the Hunger Games – you've made this interesting." I promised, voice sincere.

Drawing a knife, I knew this was it.

This will end it all.

A single swipe, and I'll go home.

I'll be a victor.

With Cato.

Forever.

"But, unfortunately, you just weren't good enough." I pretend to pout, smirking evilly. "Though, I'd be lying if I told you this hadn't been fun," well, actually – it hadn't been fun – but Hell, had it been eventful.

Sorry. I think – there's a piece of me – a piece of the old Clove – who's still scared to do this, but I've killed so much. One more kill...

A quick swiped with my blade, and Katniss' fingertips are sliced clean off.

Her dying screams fill the arena.

Peeta's cannon is fired first, his final cry being Katniss' name.

Katniss, however, did not die so quickly.

We waited for hours, night to morning in the tortuous arena with bitter weather. The growls were turning me insane, slowly tearing my head in two.

Eventually, though, I heard:
"Clove..." Her voice was harsh and ragged. I peered over to see Katniss being torn apart but mutations, agony filling her once-pretty features.

"End it for me, please." She begged, I nodded; understanding.

With a quick flick of my wrist, Katniss cried:
"I'm sorry, Prim..." Before her cannon fired.

-LineBreaker-

Daylight quickly appeared, the mutts retreated into the woods, yet nothing happened.

"Do you...Do you think we have to climb down?" I queried.

"Maybe..."

We left the blood-splattered roof of the deadly cornucopia, standing in the middle of the arena.

"Now what?" I muttered to Cato, taking his hand. For emphasis, I repeated my question – yelling my head back as to address the Capitol.

All of a sudden, the trumpets flare – and Claudius' voice is once again piercing the arena.

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

There's a small burst of static and then nothing more. I stare at Cato in disbelief as the truth sinks in. They never intended to let us both live. This has all been devised by the Gamemakers to guarantee the most dramatic showdown in history.

And, like a fool, we – I – brought into it.

I shake my head.

"No," I whisper – taking my belt and jacket off, effectively removing my body of weaponry.

"NO!" I yell, shaking.

"Kill me," I tell Cato. "Kill me and live on, for me," Cato shakes his head.

"No, we're either making this out together – or not at all." He steps forward, throwing his sword and machete aside.

"I love you, Clove." He admits, smiling sadly.

"And I love you, Cato," per instinct, I'm on my tiptoes – leaning in. Cato joins our lips, igniting our kiss.

When we pull apart, I step back.

"Which is why I'm sorry for my next course of action..." I back away from Cato, grabbing a knife from my belt.

Cato immediately catches on, or so he thinks.

"Throw it at me, Clove," he begs. "I'll understand," Cato closes his eyes, as if preparing to accept death.

"Open your eyes," I demand.

He complies, tears glistening those perfect blue eyes.

Those blue eyes, they were to be my last sight. What a perfect view before I die.

"Never forget how much I love you, Cato," I blow him a quick kiss – a tear rolling down my cheek.

Before I take my knife and thrust it backwards – twisting into my abdomen.

DO NOT KILL ME.

THIS IS NOT THE END OF THE FIC.

I just thought...What if they didn't both try to commit suicide like Katniss and Peeta? What if Clove takes the moral high-ground and tries to take her own life so Cato can live his?

What did YOU guise think of this, huh? :3 Please review!