Chapter 25:

Night of the First Day

Letha Calder, District 5, Victor of the 112th Hunger Games

Letha's heart still hurts for everyone lost today, even if none of them were the two tributes from District Five. Just as a mother…she can't help but feel remorse for each child lost and be unable to do anything about it. And yet, the pain is only truly starting.

Both of District Five's tributes made it past the bloodbath which is more than some of the others can say. Yet Letha still doesn't dare to fall asleep, not with the risky situations her two tributes are in. Even if she isn't Vida's mentor, she still worries about the girl getting ready to attack Beryl and can only hope she knows what she's doing with Nyra. And Jett…from the non-stop pacing by the fire and anxious looks at the others, she can only begin to guess what he is feeling. Emerald had been close to a friend to Jett and his one true tie into the career alliance.

"How did both of our tributes manage to be in precarious positions with careers?" Letha asks out loud, despite Galen not being with her.

"Because," an older voice speaks up and Letha glances over to see Iona sit down on the arm of the couch Letha sits on, "They're smart and playing the game."

Letha frowns at this and turns her attention back to the screens. Despite the late hour, several tributes are still restless and moving about the arena, unfortunately including both Jett and Vida. "I don't know if I like having tributes playing the game like this."

"Even if it helps one of them become the victor?" Iona asks her, playing both sides of the argument like she always does when they have conversations. It was one of the reasons Letha enjoys being her friend.

Letha turns back to her, looking up curiously. "But don't you want a victor more than the others? Or has the situation in Four changed?"

"It hasn't changed, unfortunately. There's a very high chance that if we don't get a victor in the next year or two, we're going to close down. I don't want that to happen because how many innocent young lives have been saved by the training center producing volunteers?" Iona gives Letha a sad smile at this before sighing loudly and turning her attention back to the tributes. Letha follows her gaze to a sleeping Stormy and Velmour staying on guard. How can anyone stand against that pair and their loyalty to each other? "But I think they're our best option of victory."

"It sure looks like it," Letha responds, noticing Iona looking over at her from the corner of her eye. Yet she can't turn away from Jett's screen, wishing she can do more for him. "I do hope for your sake that you don't lose the training center. But I can't hope for your tributes to win over Jett or Vida." Letha turns her gaze back to Iona, finding a look of understanding on her face. "I can't face two families back home knowing I didn't bring home their child."

"And I wouldn't ever ask you to do that," Iona counters, giving Letha a friendly smile before turning back to watch their tributes. Letha finds her gaze drifting to the some of the other tributes that are restless…Bart struggling to stay awake…Aero and Ati working on altering that trap – and Letha is glad that isn't her tributes because there's no way the Gamemakers are allowing this…Skye staring out into the night as Bristol tries to sleep next to her…Yet her attention always turns back to Jett pacing by the careers.

They sit in a comfortable silence as they watch their respective tributes for a few minutes. But with each second she continues to watch Jett in the midst of the careers, she feels more and more helpless. "I wish I can help him." With a heavy sigh, she stands up, knowing there is at least one thing she can try to do to help. "I need to try to get him sponsors but I haven't had luck yet. It's hard to convince them he needs stuff when he's at the Cornucopia and isn't a trained career."

Iona doesn't comment on this, but what is she supposed to say when it's true? Letha stares over at Jett's restless figure, silently hoping that she can get him home.

Just hang in there, Jett.


Bartlet 'Bart' Radley, 14, District 11

Another shiver passes over Bart as he stares out at the dark, forcing his eyes to stay open as he studies the forest around the small bushes he's hidden in. His eyes briefly dart over to his bag before turning back to the forest, knowing he can't reach inside for the matches, no matter how badly he would like the extra warmth. If he does, he might as well start yelling to bring the tributes over to him.

His eyes start drooping shut and he slaps his face to stay awake. His plan might be really risky, but he's going to stick to it. He just needs to stay awake this one night so he can sleep through the day.

But with nothing else to distract him, Bart's thoughts return once again to the faces that were shown in the night sky. Hours later and he still has a terrible pit in his stomach. It just became so much more real that he was really in the Hunger Games when he heard those cannons sound, even though he didn't see who was killed in the bloodbath. But to see their faces in the sky? He couldn't stop seeing them.

Cutter and Viradie were both younger than him. Marak was even his age…that could easily have been him instead.

Stop it, Bart. You barely even knew them. You're here to win, not make friends…

Bart shakes his head as another shiver passes over him, but this time not from the cold. This just isn't right. How is he ever supposed to win when he's still feeling guilty for the deaths of people he wasn't responsible for? Bart leans his head back, staring up at the sky partially visible through the trees and lets out a sigh. This is no good. He'll never win if he keeps thinking this way.

Bart needs a new plan, now.

First thing is to build up walls so he stops feeling so guilty about people – no, they have to be just tributes – dying. Somehow, he has to pretend that they aren't people with families back home, all hoping that their loved one will get home and cursing their killer. Bart knows he made the right decision in not having any allies. If he had…they would have become his friend and Bart doesn't think he would have been willing to let them die so he can win.

But if I find anyone, I have to kill them…

And there's the big issue. How does he become a killer? He's so afraid that taking someone's life will destroy him and he'll never be the same person again. But isn't it better to make it home alive? And maybe he won't be destroyed…if he can pretend everyone else isn't a person he has started to get to know throughout their time in the Capitol. Victors have gotten home before without being destroyed. His own mentor is proof of that. But Bart just isn't sure if he can do the same. It's just so wrong to take someone's life.

But everyone else in the arena won't hesitate to kill him. It's all about survival. Kill or be killed. Bart nods his head at that, feeling more comfortable with thinking about it in terms of survival. He's not murdering someone. He's keeping himself alive.

But he still doesn't know what his instincts will do in the moment when he's faced with a pers- tribute.

Well, he won't know until he is in that situation. Hopefully that won't happen if his strategy of staying nocturnal works the way it should. He should be able to find tributes while sleeping and he can just give them a quick death…which would be a lot easier if he had an actual weapon.

Bart sighs before standing up, swinging his bag onto his shoulder and quietly leaving his spot. He's not too far from the stream, having wanted to stay nearby since he doesn't have a water bottle. While he hadn't thought of it earlier when he had been focused on finding water, it's now clear to him that he might be able to make himself a weapon if he can find a good rock. He would much rather use a sharpened rock to kill than the rope in his bag to strangle people.

It doesn't take long to find the stream along with a sturdy branch as he walks towards it. He starts quietly rummaging through the rocks, searching for a rock that's pointed. Yet he struggles for a few minutes, only finding rocks smoothed over by the water. Just when he's about to give up, a wind suddenly comes through, causing the trees above him to shift and for moonlight to hit a new spot. And in that spot, the perfect rock.

Bart narrows his eyes at it, questioning if that wind had been intentional by the Gamemakers. It has to have been…but why him? He's nothing special. Sure, he earned a 5 which is better than a lot of the past tributes from District Eleven.

But in the back of his mind, Bart knows the answer. He just doesn't want to admit it as the pit in his stomach grows.

It's because I've decided to become a killer…

Bart picks up the rock, knowing it would be a death sentence for him to ignore a favorable action by the Gamemakers. He sits down on the embankment, turning the rock over in his hands and staring at it, trying to picture himself using it to kill someone. But he would be using it for survival.

With that reminder, Bart picks up the branch he grabbed before digging into his bag for the rope, cutting off enough to attach the rock but saving enough to hopefully make a trap with it. His hands shake as he fixes the rock, nearly dropping it several times, and all the while reminding himself that it's for survival, not for murdering.

Once complete, Bart stares down at the makeshift spear in his hands, silently hoping that he won't have to use it any time soon. But if he does…he'll survive.

Bart has to survive.


Day Two

Jett Gatz, 17, District 5

This was such a mistake.

A few days ago, Jett never would have been thinking that about joining in the career alliance. And why would he? He was with the most popular tributes and he was guaranteed to have supplies and be safe from the others.

But that was before his only link to the others was killed in the bloodbath.

Jett shakes his head at the thought, trying to rid his mind of the image of Em bleeding out on the ground, taken way too soon from the games. And despite Letha and Galen telling him not to trust Em…he does…had…trusted Em. And he thinks Em felt the same way about him. Yet Jett hadn't helped him stay alive during the bloodbath.

And now he's alone with four trained tributes who never really wanted him but rather just wanted to replace Beryl with anyone somewhat useful. And Jett was just the one who managed to trick and charm his way in.

He should have listened to Letha telling him this was a bad idea. But it isn't too late to listen to her now. Finally getting some resolve, Jett picks up the bag he packed hours ago and swings it on to his shoulder before grabbing the spear leaning against the building. He quietly makes his way towards the outskirts of the buildings, hoping that Stormy won't notice him.

Crack.

Jett cringes and stops moving when he realizes that he kicked a small wooden board into the side of one of the buildings, the sound echoing around him. Slowly, he turns to look towards the fire where he knows Stormy is on guard. This is it. She's going to kill me because I'm leaving.

And yet, he finds Stormy standing at the fire, staring out at him with knife in her hand, but remaining still. Jett's mind starts turning with ways to convince her that he isn't really leaving – going for an early morning stroll? – but he knows his normal charm won't get him out of this. It's obvious that he's trying to slip away unnoticed.

But what Jett doesn't expect is for Stormy to silently hold up a finger to her lips before giving a wink and motioning for him to leave. Jett stares at her for a moment in disbelief, because really, why is she letting him leave? But finally he realizes he can't let this opportunity pass and continues moving towards the woods, this time a lot more careful to watch where he's stepping. When he reaches the woods, he turns back, just able to see Stormy sitting by the fire once more, amused look on her face as she watches him leave.

Jett shakes his head as he turns around and steps into the woods. Why Stormy let him leave is a mystery to him, but he won't question it if it means he's alive. Once he can no longer see the camp, he stops and stares around, slowly losing his confidence about what to do.

Alright Jett, just pretend you're still one of the careers, but now you're going it alone. Start by getting away from the others.

Jett can handle pretending still. Isn't that what he's always done? He starts to take a few steps into the woods before he catches a flash of movement ahead and freezes, staring intently to figure out if it's a tribute or a mutt out there, and also what he's going to do. He clutches his spear tightly with both hands until his fingers start to hurt, staring and staring as whoever is out there stays quiet. Finally, a figure darts out from behind a tree, running away from him, and Jett has just a moment to figure out what to do.

Be a career, Jett. You have the supplies for it.

He takes off running after the person as they weave around the trees, continuing to glance back at Jett. It doesn't take long for Jett to catch up with the short boy, all the while telling himself that he can do this. He can kill. Just be a career.

The boy comes to a stop in a small clearing and Jett slows when he sees him turning around to face Jett, a grin on his face. Now that he's no longer running away, Jett recognizes Aero right away, because it would be hard to forget the name of the person who pranked Velmour in training.

Jett stops that train of thought, a terrible knot forming in his stomach. He can't think of Aero as a person. No, he's a tribute who is in the way of him becoming victor. And Jett is a career. A career wouldn't hesitate to kill.

"Getting a little scared?" Aero taunts over to him, amused expression still on his face.

Jett slowly starts walking towards him, still gripping his spear tightly as he studies the boy. He's so much smaller than him. Surely Jett can easily take him out. And it doesn't even look like Aero has a weapon. "You should have kept running."

Aero sticks his hands in his pockets and starts rocking on his feet, his smile starting to unnerve Jett as he slowly keeps moving forward. "Eh, I think this is more amusing. You know, the games are kind of boring compared to what we've been doing in the Capitol."

Jett fights to keep a frown off his face at this comment and comes to a stop, wondering how Aero can be so casual right now when he's about to die. And he lost one of his allies yesterday. Jett narrows his eyes at this thought, realizing Aero should have two other allies. "Where are your allies?"

"Bristol and Skye? No clue," Aero gives another shrug at this and Jett watches a flash of sadness cross Aero's face before his grinning once more. That's it, Jett can't take any more of watching Aero seem so unaffected by the games. Jett takes a deep breath, trying to brace himself to throw his spear at Aero and get it over with.

A career would have done this right away, not stood around and talked to him.

"But Ati? Well, she's right behind you."

Jett throws his spear towards Aero, striking the boy in the stomach. Aero gasps at the pain, hands clutching his stomach before dropping to his knees, smile still on his face right as Jett registers what he said. Ati…?

Suddenly, Jett is shoved forward and he has just enough time to put his hands out to stop his head from smashing into the ground. He turns around, scrambling to find the knife he tucked in his jacket and sees the girl from Eleven standing over him, face more determined than he saw the entire time in the Capitol. "What…?"

Jett lets out a yell when metal bars shoot out of the ground and enclose him. He jumps forward towards Ati, trying to get at her. But when he touches the bars, he's thrown back by the shock coursing through him, only for him to strike the other side of the cage and receive another shock, this time sending his body into spasms as he collapses on the ground.

Jett coughs and gasps as he struggles to breath. But all he can do is stare out through the bars surrounding him, over to where Aero lies in a growing pool of blood and Ati stands over him. The younger boy coughs, almost sounding like a laugh as Jett can't do anything but try to recover his breath. "Did we get him?"

"Yes," Ati answers quietly, glancing back over at Jett before quickly turning her attention back to Aero.

"Good," a small response comes from Aero as Jett struggles to force himself to his knees, his muscles screaming out at his actions.

Boom.

Ati picks up the bag Aero wears and removes the spear – Jett's spear – from Aero's stomach before turning to face Jett. And then the bars around him start to move towards him.

"Stop it! Please, help me!" Jett cries out as Ati turns and starts walking away from him. She can't just leave him here to do! He reaches out towards the bars again, desperate to do anything to stop the bars from crushing him. But he's shocked once again, this time forcing the muscles of his fingers to grip the bars and force him to keep getting shocked. His vision blacks out before his hands finally release and he falls back, barely able to see up at the bars getting closer and closer to him.

"No…" he whispers feebly as the bars nearly reach his face. He can't die. Not like this! He was going to become the victor and really give his family the life they've been pretending. Then the bars come into contact with his legs, sending a non-stop shock through him and causing his body to spasm, before everything goes black.


Jarvis Stark, 18, District 3

Every time Jarvis tries to do something right, he just manages to mess it up. He thought he was doing the right thing by becoming allies with the four youngest tributes in the games. He wanted to do everything he could to protect them in the arena. But by some dumb twist of luck, only one of them is with him.

Jarvis glances back at Oakland following behind him, his shorter legs working a bit harder to keep up with Jarvis. He slows his pace, allowing the youngest boy left to catch up with him, just feeling his guilt be added to by not realizing sooner that he was making Oakland work so hard to keep up. He didn't even realize that he could feel this much guilt after how much he had experienced before admitting in his interview everything that happened with Tony.

Jarvis finds himself stopping at the thought of his friend, realizing that he hadn't thought about him since the games started. And where there normally would be a twisting knot of guilt in his stomach, there is only a sense of peace. Finally, after so many months of guilt and regret over what he did…he finally feels resolve. He didn't have to lie anymore about everything he's felt the past few months and while he can never find out for sure, he just has a gut feeling that Tony forgives him, which is more than he could ever ask for.

"Jarvis?"

And with that small voice just saying his name, voice cracking with sadness, all of the guilt comes pouring back in him. How is he supposed to protect Oakland? He couldn't protect Cutter…he shudders as his mind forces him to watch Velmour drive the knife into Cutter's knife over and over, feeling a burning in his throat at the pain and guilt. And he couldn't protect Viradie…sweet Viradie who was so innocent and was killed by the most brutal tribute in the arena. And he failed Clark too, by not being able to find him and form an alliance with him. He's out there, probably afraid and all alone after watching Viradie die-

Oakland steps in front of him, stopping Jarvis' downward spiral of depressing thoughts, face reflecting the sadness inside himself. "We'll find him."

Jarvis shakes his head at this, ready to just feel upset and like everything is hopeless, before seeing the smallest hint of hope in Oakland's eyes. If Oakland hasn't given up hope at finding Clark…he can't give up yet. Jarvis sighs loudly at this, turning his eyes up to the sky so Oakland can't see him on the verge of tears from all his guilt. No more lying… "I sure hope so," Jarvis turns his attention back to Oakland, trying to force himself to stay positive and give Oakland a smile of reassurance. "Should we keep going?"

Oakland nods his head at this and Jarvis starts walking again, conscious about slowing his pace so the younger boy doesn't have to work so hard to keep up with him. He tries to stay hopeful about finding Clark since Oakland is hopeful, yet Jarvis has no clue how big this arena is. He isn't even completely sure they're heading in the right direction because neither of them saw what direction Clark ran in. Oakland tries to hand Jarvis their water bottle but he shakes their head, refusing to take away precious water from Oakland. Who knows when they'll find a water source to fill it up again? He can't take away Oakland's supplies.

"Jarvis, you need to drink water," Oakland tries to reason with him and Jarvis shakes his head, admitting to himself that his head does feel heavy from the lack of food and water. He keeps his gaze ahead, knowing he'll give in if he looks over at Oakland. He keeps walking a few more feet before realizing that Oakland has stopped. He sighs before turning around, finding Oakland back a few face and looking stubborn. "I'm serious. I won't move from this spot until you drink some water and at least eat a bag of nuts."

Jarvis shakes his head again, finding himself smiling at how Oakland can't really look mad. "I can pick you up again and carry you. We need to keep moving."

"You won't be able to help Clark if you pass out from dehydration or from not eating," Oakland responds before holding out the bottle to Jarvis even though there's several feet between them.

Oakland is right at this and Jarvis sighs about Oakland playing on his guilt to get him to drink water. These supplies should be for Oakland or even Clark when they find him. "Fine. But we keep moving."

"Good," Oakland answers and jogs to catch up to Jarvis and passes him the water bottle. "And don't try to pretend to-"

Boom. Boom.

They both come to a stop and look at each other as guilt starts to run through Jarvis once more. Two more people dead…what if they're too late and it was Clark? "We need to find him," Jarvis whispers, mostly to himself, but finds Oakland nodding his head in agreement at this. When they resume walking, they both pick up their pace, both seemingly eager to find Clark. Jarvis gives a quick glance over at Oakland's face and knows his thoughts are mirroring his own.

What if one of those was Clark's? Is he going to find out tonight that he let down one more person?

But he looks back over at Oakland and reminds himself that he did save Oakland yesterday.

Maybe he doesn't completely mess up everything.


Lauris Mercola, 18, District 3

For the first time in probably her whole life, Lauris is truly alone. And it's almost a relief to just be sitting in silence.

Don't get her wrong, she loves her family and wishes she was back in Three with them more than anything especially every time she thinks about how distraught Hadlyn must be right now watching her in the games. And then there's Lori. She so desperately wants to be back home to Lori to finally know if she returns her feelings so she can stop having that thought looming in the back of her mind. And she can actually be the one to provide a home for Lori and soon-to-be Lori Jr. Lauris can't help the smile forming on her face at the thought of living together in Victor's Village, little footsteps running around her and Lori together.

Except that thought will have to wait to be a reality because there's nothing she can do about it now except make sure she wins.

But she can at least enjoy this time of having no one nagging at her to do this, or stop breaking the computers, or stop getting into fights with Lori's shithead ex-boyfriend. Lauris chuckles to herself at that last one. She'll never stop giving that asshole a good sucker punch.

But now that she's in the arena, Lauris can relax and focus purely on herself. And she's doing great right now. She has a knife, not that she couldn't always defend herself with her bare hands, but it certainly makes things easier. She has enough food and water to last her a couple more days if she rations it well. And it's a beautiful sunny day, once you can ignore the fact that there's fourteen other tributes in the arena that all want you dead so they can win.

Like she said, a beautiful day.

Lauris lets out a content sigh as she stares out at the water, sun still shining brightly on it as the sky starts turning orange. She had been drawn to the water right away, mesmerized by the sight, but mostly because the color of the water reminded her so much of Lori's eyes. It's so odd to find such a nice place when any second could be your last. She absentmindedly flips her knife around in her hands a couple times before gripping it tightly and shutting her eyes for a moment so she can just feel the warmth on her face. Let the tributes come and find me. We'll see how quickly they regret it.

She's not going to hesitate to kill and let anyone get away from her…Well, except for Ati, but the girl from Eleven was an exception yesterday. They were both just trying to see if there was any chance of getting supplies. Lauris was hoping that maybe Ati would suggest allying, yet she had remained silent… But it's fine, she's better off on her own. Being alone will certainly save her the terrible moment of having to betray any ally, but it still would have been nice to have Ati by her side, at least until there's less tributes. So Lauris let her go, but only because Ati was the only tribute in this arena that's managed to show Lauris any respect.

Well…except for Jarvis.

What is Jarvis up to right now? Lauris had honestly expected to see him die yesterday, with how defeated he had seemed after finally admitting to Panem why he volunteered. And fuck, Lauris was shocked at that reason. Yet he's still alive, somewhere, probably with the remainder of his young allies. Now those deaths yesterday didn't surprise her. Really, no one should have been surprised. If they hadn't died then, it would only be a matter of time. Who knows, maybe those two cannons earlier were for Clark and Oakland.

…When did she become so uncaring about little kids dying in the arena? Kids that she had been around for the past few days and had unfortunately started to get to know? Kids with families back home, desperately hoping for a miracle and their return.

Lauris opens her eyes at this, starting to frown despite her beautiful surroundings. What has changed in her? Yeah, victors change, and who would expect people who have killed to be the same, but she hadn't expected to see herself change…

But it's kill or be killed. And Lauris certainly doesn't want to be killed. She has too much to lose if she dies.

Her hands reach for cigarettes in pockets that lack them, only making her sigh at the additional worry that she doesn't have anything to take her mind off of becoming a killer. She doesn't want to end up like Electro or even worse, Velour, if she wins and be constantly tormented by the faces of those that had to die for her to live. Yet her gut tells her that won't be the case. If anything, she'll be more like Matla.

No, she's not going to be like anyone else. She isn't going to be the next so-and-so. She's tired of living in someone else's shadow. She's going to be Lauris Mercola, badass victor of the 149th Hunger Games!

And the first step towards that is getting rid of the fourteen other tributes remaining. Oh she would love to get her hands on one of the careers who think victory is guaranteed because they had training. Well it's not and Lauris would certainly enjoy getting to show them that. Stormy and Decima are both so much smaller than her that she's sure she can take them out in a one-on-one fight, probably Beryl too.

Lauris stands up, brushing off her pants before gathering her supplies. Well, if she finds the careers, so be it, she'll take them on. If she finds someone else, she'll take them on too. But she's not going to keep sitting around and doing nothing when she can be out searching for people. And those people are going to regret finding her in the arena because she will not think twice about killing. Anything to get her home to Lori.

She sets off back into the woods, not even bothering to glance back at the water. Not when she has a goal in her mind and she's going to reach it.

Whoever she stumbles across won't know what hit them.

Hopefully that won't be Jarvis or Ati. It would be unfortunate to have to kill them.


Beryl Guerlain, 18, District 1

Beryl lets out another curse as a tree branch strikes her arm, causing another burst of pain. She clenches her teeth and forces herself to keep running, only sparing a quick glance down to see that her wound has started bleeding again. Shit, I'm going to have to stop again.

She digs her feet into the ground, gradually slowly down and looking around carefully in case she's about to get ambushed. Yet as she stares around the trees, all she finds is the encroaching darkness as the sun keeps setting. Not even the slight rustle of leaves or the snapping of a branch as the two girls try to keep themselves hidden as they stalk her. As if those two outer District girls would actually manage to catch her. They're probably far behind with her running. This is why Aura had spent so many days training her to be able to run all day.

Beryl lets out a shaky breath as her arm throbs in pain as she leans against a tree, closing her eyes for just a moment and feeling the relief as they stop stinging. She can't keep this up without getting any sleep, but she can't when she knows she's being followed. But maybe it wouldn't hurt to sleep for just a couple minutes…

Beryl jumps at the sound of the anthem playing, her eyes shooting open and staring around at the forest. Shit, that was more than just a couple minutes. Stupid, so stupid to fall asleep like that. She can't let that happen again.

But she's so damn tired.

Beryl turns her attention up to the sky, curious to see who the two cannons were for today since they happened so close together. And she just needs anything right now to focus on so she doesn't fall asleep again.

The first face shown has her raising an eyebrow and letting out a single chuckle. "They're so dysfunctional," she mutters to herself at Jett's face in the sky and losing that small bit of hope that maybe one of the four tributes that are actually competition were dead. Certainly would save her trouble later on but maybe they'll just end up destroying each other. And she's still surprised that Jett's face wasn't the one showing yesterday instead of Em's. Beryl shakes her head at this thought, not really feeling remorse at losing her District partner so early. It would have happened eventually for her to win. No, if anything, it just makes her even more determined to make sure she's the victor.

Jett's face is soon replaced with the boy's from Six and Beryl turns her gaze away from the sky. He was never competition for her. The only real competition are the ones she refused to join…and, she supposes, the two chasing her. If only one of the girls chasing her had died today.

Maybe she should just kill them already. Certainly would save her a lot of energy from running all day. But…her gut told her to run and she learned long ago to follow her gut. She could easily take down one of them on their own, but together? Not with her injury.

Beryl groans as she takes a look at her throbbing arm, just able to see in the darkness that her makeshift bandage from her sleeping bag is soaked with blood. She lowers herself to the ground, careful not to put any pressure on her arm as she brings her backpack in front of her. She slowly unwraps the bandage, gritting her teeth when dried blood makes her have to rip off part of the fabric.

Once in the air, blood starts freely dripping from the wound and Beryl stares at it for a moment, questioning how long she can leave it like this before it gets infected. Not very long unless she gets a sponsor gift… but who knows when that will be. She had thought by now someone would send her first aid, but apparently she hasn't been that popular with the Capitol.

She'll just have to deal with it herself. And she knows what she has to do, but damn it, it's going to hurt so fucking bad.

With a heavy sigh, she stands up and has to wait a second as her head spins from the lack of sleep. But once her vision clears, she ventures out into the immediate area and picks up a few pieces of wood, just enough to create a small fire. It takes longer than it should have for her to build a decent pile, all because every tiny movement of her left arm sends pain coursing through it. Even trying to light a match takes a few tries and a lot of clenching her teeth in pain, but she doesn't cry out. She never cried out at the pain at home and she won't give them the satisfaction of seeing her do that now.

Beryl watches the fire catch the wood and slowly grow for a minute, steeling herself before finally pulling out her knife and sticking it in the flames. All she can do now is wait.

But as she waits, all she can think about is stupid Coeus for managing to injure her before she left the Cornucopia. That never would have happened if that stupid boy hadn't tackled her. In the moment, she hadn't understood why he did it, but now the boy's selfless action makes sense. Except Beryl hadn't even been running towards his allies to kill them. She was just trying to get away from the other careers. And now she lost one of the axes she had grabbed and has a bad arm injury that just won't stop bleeding.

Well, it should stop now.

Beryl rips off another section of her sleeping bag as the knife starts to glow red and bundles it up before sticking it between her teeth and biting down hard, anything to distract herself from the pain. She reaches for her knife, hesitating for a moment at the thought of how much pain she's about to inflict on herself.

Do it, Beryl. You've faced a lot worse at home.

With a deep breath, Beryl reaches out for the handle and quickly presses the hot knife against her arm before she can second guess herself. A muffled scream escapes through the fabric in her mouth and her eyes start watering as she tries to keep it together. Fuck, it's so much worse than she imagined and she nearly pulls the knife away to stop the searing pain in her arm. The smell of roasting flesh starts to reach her as her eyes get fuzzy from the pain and she drops the knife to the ground.

Beryl leans back, closing her eyes as she takes a few deep breaths, fighting between throwing up or passing out from the pain. She thought her arm had hurt before but that was nothing compared to the continuous throbbing. But once the nausea passes, she opens one eye to look down at her arm. The wound is now red and inflamed…but it's no longer bleeding.

Beryl lets out a sigh of relief at this and takes the cloth out of her mouth, feeling the ache in her jaw from clenching down. But it doesn't matter. She had to do it to survive. If there's one thing Beryl is good at, it's fighting through pain and surviving. And there is no way she isn't getting that victor title, even if it means burning her own arm to stay alive.

She leans against the tree again and closes her eyes, a new wave of pain coming from her arm making her head feel heavy. Maybe a couple hours of sleep will be fine.

Beryl can barely feel her body falling over before passing out from the pain.


Ahh I've had this encounter with Jett and Aero planned for so long now so it was so exciting (and very sad) to finally reach it! But of course, we have to say goodbye to two awesome tributes.

Aero Fensa, Placed 17th - Oh Aero, you were always so much fun. A boy who struggled with always being the stupid sibling, yet someone who just wanted to have some fun while he was alive. I never anticipated how much I would love getting to write Aero and Marek together, and really get to see both of them reach their potential. Aero provided a nice bit of humor in a story that otherwise would be very dark and depressing, so I will always be thankful for this guy. I'm gonna say this with probably every tribute, but I contemplated not having him die now. But, he died with a smile on his face because he knew that he outsmarted someone. Plus, he got to rewire a Gamemaker trap which was so badass and awesome. Later. glader, thank you SO much for sending Aero in to me and I certainly hope I did him justice throughout this story. And this certainly won't be the last time he's mentioned because he's managed to impact a few people still left in the arena.

Jett Gatz, Placed 16th - Alright talk about a character who was so unique. I absolutely loved Jett's backstory and how his family pretended to be wealthy. And who doesn't love having someone who can charm there way into the career alliance? It probably wasn't his best decision, but, unlike what everyone thought, the careers didn't end up being his death, it was himself pretending to be a career. Still doesn't mean I'm not very sad to say goodbye to Jett. He provided some interesting dynamics within the career alliance. So thank you, TheDancerSG, for sending in Jett! I thoroughly enjoyed writing him and also, I apologize that you just got caught up and then this happens...Sorry about that, like I said, this was something I've been planning for a long time.

Okay, so now that we're done being sad (but not really), let's talk about what happened! There's a few things that I've been working on setting up for later chapters, most of which I'm sure you can pick up on. Seriously, I was excited about this Aero-Jett plan, but I have a ton of exciting things planned for future chapters and I can't wait to get to everything!

And let's see how many sponsor points everyone has:

AdventureWriter24 – 5

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David12341 – 265

District 9 Tribute – 30

District5Chemist – 90

Fabulous Abby – 10

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Golden Moon Huntress – 115

Goldie031 – 150

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IVolunteerAsAuthor – 105

ImaginationStories – 25

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Later. glader – 160

Little Knight Mik – 50

LokiThisIsMadness – 60

LordShiro – 25

Mewruru – 25

Misfit-right-in – 80

Mystical Pine Forest – 35

Mistycharming – 155

Ozimira – 115

Platrium – 5

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SherlockedAtHeart – 45

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Singlewave – 100

Sparky She-Demon – 10

TheDancerSG – 40

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VeneratedArt – 55

Ways – 125

Winter's Writing – 70

Yyvonnee – 30

Just a reminder that the cost of sponsor gifts will increase with each day, so you don't want to wait. And if you wait, you might miss out on getting someone a hot tub (*cough* David).

All joking aside, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and you're ready for your feels to keep getting wrecked with each chapter!