A/N: Thank you all who reviewed for your comments on last chapter, especially Narcissa Weasley who pointed out my stupid mistake. Your tribute will now receive a free sponsor item for your help. Just so you guys know, I'm planning on staring a sequel to this the moment I hit twelve tributes, but that does not mean I will stop updating once a week, so don't think I've given up if you see I've started a new games!

Once again it helps if you don't try to understand Irre's actions in this chapter. Every character in this chapter is crazy.

The Cornucopia (Or 'The Rink') of...

The Ninety-Fourth Hunger Games

Day 3

Georia stumbles through the snow, vision blurred, eyes stinging with partially frozen goo and half melted snow, shivering constantly as she hefts herself ever closer to the Cornucopia. A mass of whirring blades sounds above her as the Cornucopia comes into her line of sight from behind a large frozen boulder, and she stops, covering her ears to protect them from the noise. Looking up she notices a hover ship, raising a platform from the icy floor to the sky. She runs towards it, shouting between frantic gasps for it to stop, to rescue her. Maybe, she thinks to herself, the portly old woman in the many scarves and coats, or the taller driver will come down and help her if she screams loud enough. Maybe she can jump onto the platform and get on board the ship anyway. Maybe she can be saved from this nightmare just like that boy on the platform.

A large hand spills over the side as the wind blows the corpse sideways, for a second Demis looks like he might topple off, his almost shut, glassy, black eyes turning, almost as though he is rolling over in his sleep, to regard Georia. The Capitol man pulls Demis' body back to safety, and suddenly realisation comes crashing down around Georia's ears. Suddenly she remembers where she is, why she is here. She topples out of the sky midway through her leap at the disappearing craft, slamming teeth first into the ground with an all too loud, sickening crunch. Her head aches as she pulls herself to her feet. A slight amount of blood dribbles off her lip as her teeth dig into it. She whimpers and shakes, shuffling her numb feet over to the nine bags that remain. She climbs up the slope, and skids to the center of the icy pond, muttering all the while to herself.

"Nine bags. Nine bags for nine tributes. Ten are dead now. Five have left. I am one of the nine who has yet to claim her bag. When I have there will be only eight bags left. Six will have taken their bags. My old alliance had three members, which is six divided by two. It took me two minutes to get to my feet when I woke up this morning and remember why I was leaving my alliance. It took five minutes for them to disappear from sight in the snow. My new alliance will only have two members. Zus and me. Z-U-S plus G-E-O-R-I-A equals nine. Nine plus three, the number of people in my old alliance, equals twelve. Alew Ferove was only twelve years old.' Her shoulders shake as she remembers this fact and her voice wavers as silent tears run down her face, "He has been dead for three days. He died here."

Somehow counting relaxes her as she undoes the string around the sack and pulls out a long coat and a pair of boots. Not much, but it does help slightly. It stops her from concentrating on how cold she is. On how hungry she is. On how much she needs to talk to someone. To let it all out. To cry. But she can't. That would appear weak. You'd lose sponsors. It would actually be as sensible to cry as it would to walk up to the Careers and offer yourself as a human sacrifice. So instead she just sits here. Going nuttier than that weirdo from District One.

"HEY GIIIIRLIE!" A voice roars from above her, and Georia looks up in terror to see the aforementioned boy, accompanied by the similarly delusional Verain of District Two, shuffling towards her, their sleeping bags wrapped around their shoulders in a desperate attempt to keep warm. She presses herself closer to the bags, hoping against hope that they don't spot her. "HURRY UP! I DON'T LIKE BEING COLD YA KNOW!" Verain growls indignantly at him and pushes past, as though trying to prove him wrong by running the last bit, bow clasped in her blue hand. She only makes it a couple of steps, however, when her feet, tired and shaking from the cold, collapse under her and she falls flat on her face. Irre grins, laughing hysterically and she grits her teeth, bringing her fist up and jabbing it right into his eye patch. Irre grimaces, but keeps his mouth shut, remembering what Demis had said about fighting.

"Keep quiet idiot." Verain whispers, "Do you really want to scare away all the prey?"

"'Ey!" Irre complains, far too loudly for Verain's liking, "I'm allowed to talk at whatever volume I want! It's not like this is serious after all, it's just a game." Verain hits him in the stomach again and Irre's face contorts, he lashes out, his kama carving a jagged scar in the girl's face. Verain stops, drawing her knife and poking Irre in the stomach with it, her eyes filled with white hot anger as she prays for Irre to give any sort of response, so she can finally put an end to his life. Irre grins widely, drawing back his kama.

Something in the boy's brain clicks. The grin disappears, instead replaced by a confused frown, and he pushes past Verain, sending her into the snow. He pushes his way to the center of the pool in a single step, spinning and moving on it as if he were dancing on a ballet floor. The boy reaches the middle, grabs two bags and flings one at Verain, narrowly avoiding her head.

"Hey!" Verain roars, "Watch it!"

"Quiet." Irre smiles, raising a hand to his lips and shushing her. Verain lips quiver in fury as she changes into the new fur clothes they have been given. The only thing keeping her from tearing Irre apart now is Demis, who told them that if either didn't come back, the other would be 'worse than dead meat'. Verain shudders at just the thought of what that might mean.

"Goddamit Irre, I'm coming up there!" Verain snarls, sounding eerily similar to her mother as she says the words.

"Sure." Irre's voice drifts back, "But if you don't want a show, I suggest ya wait till I'm dressed!" Verain sticks out her tongue, retching at the thought of what Irre has just said.

"Hurry up!" She shouts back.

Irre, however, is doing anything but hurry. He parades around on the ice, enjoying the freedom of movement that the ice gives him. Irre spins on the spot, eyes closed, humming to himself. He looks down, seeing the little girl curled up by his feet, her white hair matching the polar bear skin coat she has been given, her dark eyes staring pleadingly up at him. Irre smiles, forcing down the voices in his head that tell him to disembowel her and serve her her own intestine. He kneels down and takes her hand.

"Hey there little angel..." He smiles, stroking her shivering face with a single, freezing finger. Georia looks up at him, still counting in her head, and opens her mouth, trying to speak. "This is gonna be fun." He twists his arm, tightening his hand around her face as he does so and slamming her head directly into the ice. The poor girl cries out, and Irre smiles toothily, bringing his hand up and slamming his elbow down onto her head, sending a dangerous cracking sound through the dark ice. "It'll be real fun, yeah! Make up for that little kid who Verain got to kill, yeah!" Georia cries out as Irre's foot crashes into her head, but the sound is too muffled by Irre's hand for Verain, who stands furious at the bottom of the slope, trying to listen through the wind, to hear. Irre gives a laugh, and spins Georia over to face him, so that he can see her face as the lights finally go out.

Irre's eyes meet hers and he suddenly stops, stepping away from Georia, who lies bruised and bloody on the ground. This girl is like him. Avoided, isolated from her District, who see her as a monster. Never able to speak kindly with anyone, knowing that they hate her. All that pent up anger and fear Irre gulps, remembering the jabbing fingers, the pointed tongues, the knives of the other Career trainees. The scar's they'd made. The names they'd called. Their dying screams as the entire class had met their fate at the end of his kamas. She is going to have to find someone else to kill her, because Irre can't. The crazy man looks at Georia and he sees the one person he can never kill, himself. Well, girl him. Well kid girl him. He smiles at her, taking another step back and bending down, placing something on the floor, then turning and walking away.

"ALL DONE!" Irre bellows as he trots down the mound to where Verain stands.

"What took you so long?" The tall girl asks, bewildered.

"Nature called." Irre grins as the two sink into the snowstorm, "I wouldn't go up there for a while."

"God you're disgusting."

Georia sits on the ice, fingering her bruises and staring wide eyed after the eye patch wearing boy. Had he just let her go? Why? It didn't make any sense. She knew he was messed up but seriously, this? She tries to get up, but her feet collapse under her, her wounds making her, at least for the time being, unable to support herself properly. Georia pulls herself to her hands and knees, pulling on a pair of gloves as she does so, and crawls over to the thing that Irre dropped.

A box. Georia stares at it for a moment. A painted metal box with a picture of a doll on the front and little trees with weird pompoms on them around the side. A star sits at the top of the tree and, clustered around the doll, there are little angels with trumpets. Georia raises and eyebrow as she stares down at the little metal thing, wondering whether she should open it.

"The hell."


Emery presses onwards through the water, skipping as she goes, her face joyous.

"What are you so happy about?" Phillip's voice drifts back to her, Emery giggles slightly, a thing which is uncommon for Emery, and stops by the wall, placing Phillip's body down in the shallow water and grinning in the general direction of Phillip's voice.

"I'm happy because we've won!"

"Won? But I'm dead." Phillip groans, as though only slightly inconvenienced by the whole situation.

"Yeah, but it's not like we were going to both be allowed to win anyway." Emery says, " I mean, how Katniss and Peeta is that?" Phillip chuckles, and Emery continues. "But look at where we are now. It's warm. It's got water. It's got food. We can sit here and survive while they all die outside!"

"You really think that?"

"Sure." Emery says.

"You really don't get it?" Phillip asks. "You remember I said it was too hot?"

"Yeah..."

"Well that's the point. The snow isn't supposed to kill. It's psychological. The snow is designed to drive people into the warmer caves."

"So? It's nice down here."

"Emery, how can you be so unbelievably thick when I, a figment of your imagination, am so smart?" Phillip sighs and Emery shrugs. "Are you just in denial or something?" Phillip fumes, and Emery can practically hear him facepalm. She smiles, leaning back against the warm wall with its hot glowing stones and the grinning as she settles back in the cool water at her feet.

"It doesn't matter, anything that comes along we can beat. We've got water, shelter, weaponry and food."

"Food?" Phillip asks. Emery giggles, settling down in the water, and flicks the knife out of her sleeve, cutting a little off of Phillip's thigh and cleaning the blood off in the water.

"You're not serious." Phillip groans. Emery smiles up at him, winks and pops the bit of thigh into her mouth. She chews, her face contorting uncomfortably as she tastes the raw flesh. "I thought you were joking!"

"You don't taste as good as you look." Emery mumbles to herself, cutting out another piece and watching as a little blood pours out of Phillip's leg and spurts into the water. Emery smiles and raises her knife to her lips, taking another bite and talking with her mouth full as she chews the meat. "Maybe you'd taste better if you were cooked a little. Ah well, I'm sure I'll get used to it."

"Ah God, this is sick!" Claudius groans, as he dabs his mouth with a cloth to wipe away the vomit, "Get the President on the phone, this girl's gotta die!"

Emery smiles, chewing another bite of leg meat which, while not exactly the most tender in the world, is really starting to grow on her. She smiles as she slices yet more chunks off of Phillip's leg and swallows them, occasionally commenting and gulping down the meat as best she can.

"Kill it! KILL IT!" Claudius roars, very nearly vomiting yet again from the disgusting sight of seeing one human eat another which is, of course, much worse than watching Teagan Cooper when she was tortured and then shot and then slowly eaten alive.

It, of course, is not long before a crashing sounds from close by, Emery turns her head and, hefting the carcass off of her knees, heads towards the sound of the disturbance.

"I wouldn't..." Phillip begins, but Emery shushes him. "No, seriously, they're trying to lead the tributes down here! They're trying to get us as far away from the surface as possible, they're..." Emery shushes him again, raising a bloodstained finger to her mouth, and this time he is quiet, though he does sound slightly sick when she licks some of the blood off of her finger.

The crashing grows closer and louder as Emery steps towards the left hand turn at the end of the passage, curious. It is at this point that she realises that the crashing is coming through the wall.

The crashing gets louder, more frantic. Emery silently raises her hand to the wall, touching the rock. Her hand pulls back reflexively. The rock is boiling hot. The water on her hand bubbles and steams as she draws her hand away and shakes it, looking down and sucking her fingers, which she is sure have been blistered. The banging from inside the wall gets louder, and is soon joined by crashing from the left of her, where another passage leads into the distance. Emery winces as the soft, almost spongy substance beneath her feet begins to glow like the stones on the walls and ceiling, and water, a bit like the start of rain in District Six, drips onto her head. The banging is coming from all around her now. Above, to the right, in front, behind, the left. Water begins to trickle from in between every crack in the rocks, boiling and bubbling as it hits the rocks before dripping onto her head. She shrieks as hot water rises around her ankles and pours into her hair, scalding her and her partners body. But she doesn't try to run. That would be what they wanted her to do. It was the same with 'winning it for Phillip'. That was what they had wanted to happen. That was why they had lit up the cave lights, why they had given her a coat rather than expect her to go and get one. The Games Makers had wanted a perfect Katniss and Peeta. The boy dies and the girl wins for him. Well, that's what she had done. She had followed the lights. She had acted crazy, or cute, as they would probably say. She had done everything in her power so that she could get the most screen time possible. So that the cameras would be on her when she broke that unspoken rule. Eating another tribute. She had looked for other ways. Phillip had told her it was a trap and she had known. And she had been cool with that. Trap her and kill her. Emery smiles. She didn't want to win this without Phillip. She'd never get his voice out of her head after that. She had tried to make it easy for them to kill her, but they'd changed it so that the trap would actually help her survive better. She grits her teeth as the floor becomes unbearably hot and she collapses under the torrent of water, pinned to the ground under boiling waves, unable to stand. She staggers forwards, each step agony on the boiling rocks. She hadn't wanted to do that to Phillip, he had been hurt enough already, but she hadn't wanted to let him go. She had to, for Phillip. As crazy as it sounded she had done it for him. He had given that speech two days ago and somehow she had refused him. She had pretended she didn't know what he was talking about. She coughs up blood as tears run down her face, hissing as they make contact with the ground. She had only had a few mouthfuls, swallowed them and pretended to enjoy the taste. It had been the only sure fire way to make sure she would see Phillip again soon. She had expected them to kill her quickly and painlessly, then she would be free for ever, but this was agonizing. It didn't matter though, soon she could see the Phillip again. The real Phillip. They could be together forever. She stretches out her hand as she finally reaches Phillip's body, crawling over him, trying to protect his corpse as best as she can. Tears pour out of her eyes as she collapses under the staggering weight of boiling water, onto the burning tiles. She cries out for oxygen, but none comes.

In her last few seconds she thinks about her family, who she is leaving behind and feels a brief pang of guilt for her father and little brother and sister. They will have to grow up without her. Then again, she thinks, Phillip's parent's and his brother and sister will be growing up without him. If she came back alive, well, it wouldn't really have been very 'fair' now would it? Emery gasps as blood pours from her mouth and topples down on front of Phillip's body.

"Sorry." She croaks, unaware that she is mimicking Phillip's last words exactly.

"Don't worry about it." She hears Phillip's voice say, she looks up, her hazy eyes staring at Phillip, a glowing silver illusion shining through the torrent of water. She smiles, reaching up and takes the Phillip illusions hand. Then she breathes her last, falling back, her arm goes limp by her side and the water stops cools, slowly draining out of the floor of the great passageway.

From outside the Arena a cannon tolls, and a single white dove is knocked off it's perch on the dome, spreading it's wings it meets another, who has been waiting patiently for it, hovering close to where it roosts, and the pair spin away, climbing up above the clouds and further. Towards heaven.


A/N: And with that we have the death of yet another character who I really didn't want to die (The first was Demis). I guess even the author can't ave it their way in this. Sorry Meiveva Sirenice, I did love your characters and hope that you keep reading.


The Dead:

24: Alew Ferove (D8)- Killed by Demis, skull shattered

23: Quentin Rapido (D5)- Killed by Zus, shot

22: Essence Craymaker (D1)- Killed by Alylla, beheaded

21: Arixo Varsity (D12)- Killed by Irre, stabbed

20: April Conolly (D10)- Killed by Mutts, eaten

19: Hype Tarick (D12)- Killed by Mutts, crushed

District 12 OUT :(

18: Phillip Sutton (D6)- Killed by Jules, stabbed

17: Jules Radcliffe (D4)- Killed by Phillip, poisoned

16: Teagan Cooper (D5)- Killed by Mutts, shot

District 5 OUT :(

15: Demis (D2)- Killed by Alylla, stabbed

14: Emery Lox (D6)- Killed by boiling water

District 6 OUT :(

Left: 13 tributes; 7 male, 6 female


Arcticmist: 65

A type of Wallflower: 35

SilverDagger: 10

Freedom of Thought: 50

Haley: 10

dudleyson: 10

akatrixie: 70

Ereader64: 25

Son of X: 30

Fuzzybubny: 10

booksarecool: 10

Meiveva Sirenice: 105

Ginny Weasley23: 110

Narcissa Weasly: 35

HelloPoppet123: 80

MySoulToReap: 55

Beware of the Nargles: 100

seagreenbeauty: 20

skgirl4ever: 90

wildone97: 80

pianoette: 30

MyRedPheonix: 70

CoolOw: 10

J.F x Kalieoki: 70

kuhse: 50

JayceeSue44227: 10

J C Kali: 20

The Other Packman: 10


Tribute items:

Irre Massenhaft: Kama, dagger, cool eye patch, thick coat and boots, random Career stuff (At base)

Verain Longcast: Small knife, bow, thick coat and boots, random Career stuff (At base)

Jakob Hart: Medium pack (food eaten), 3 bandages, blowtube and 8 darts, thick coat and boots, tape recorder

Kate Ryal: Small knife, bow, 9 arrows, thick coat and boots

Blake Kaitz: Small pack (food eaten), sword, dagger, trident, thick coat and boots, random Career stuff (at base)

Pyro Vernon: Improvised club, small pack (food eaten), extra ethanol

Kayton Roys: Small ax, large food basket (food for 2 more meals)

Georia Hanel: Large pack (food eaten), slingshot, thick coat and boots, Weird Box for old forgotten holiday

Zus Ryaov: Longbow and 11 arrows, thick coat and boots

Alylla Stone: Large axe, large knife, large pack (food for 1 more meal), thick coat and boots, Capitol medicine (bone repairer)

Trent Flee: Dino Mutt pelt, Improvised knife

Scratch Standards: Medium pack (food for 1 more meals), improvised club

Lenox Carter: Large Pack (food for 2 more meals), Capitol medicine (Deep cuts ½ empty), rope

RESERVE: Sword, lamp (Arcticmist) Bow and 10 arrows (kuhse) Banquet (Narcissa Weasley)

Next Week: Fires, foes and family men