The Stranger
Some are satin some are steel;
Some are silk and some are leather;
They're the faces of the stranger;
But we love to try them on.
Day Twelve
Isaac Heller, District Five Male
My hands brush against the mirror edge, tracing the intricacy of the patterns engraved into the wood. I open my eyes slowly, taking in the small flicker of light flashing from above my head. The glass stands tall, reaching all the way to the arched ceiling and curving inwards slightly. Mocking me. Showing me my withering self.
Eden.
I haven't left this spot since we were cut off. My fingers are bruised but the pain's subsided since I gave up yesterday. There came a point last night, after repeatedly smacking the mirror and calling out for Eden that I realised there was no way back. I look up at the wall of dark hanging like a shadow by my side.
The only way to find Eden is forwards. But there's a reason I never did that in the first place. I see the line carved into the wall, the light swaying and shutting off, then the breeze as the mirror came down and cut Eden off.
This is all a sick game, there could be anything within these walls. I'm scared. The fear from the time those puppets killed Brazen is seeping back through my body, overtaking every other sense. There could be anything within these walls and the thought of finding my friend is secondary to my own well-being.
It's selfish, isn't it?
I tap my hand against the mirror and sigh, sinking downwards. It is selfish but it's not like this is anything new. I've always been selfish, yet there was a time at the beginning of this Arena that I tried to pretend I wasn't. I still have a courage somewhere in this mess of fear and sadness, and pride as well. The fact I've made it so far paired with the fact I'm terrified of trying to find Eden because that might mean I'll die, it's all so much to fight with.
There could be many outcomes to my decision, but at the end of the day the one outcome I desire more than anything is to win. And to win... Eden has to die, eventually.
A noise escapes my lips, the first noise since Eden's name repeated a hundred times throughout the day. I... I know what's the right thing to do and what's the wrong thing.
And it's the wrong thing that for me... is the right thing. To leave Eden and proceed by myself. Because it always came down to this.
My legs shake as I push myself upwards. Even as I begin walking with my knife tucked in to my side and backpack weighing be down, I feel the urge to turn around and give in. We always talked about it and shared that common agreement about what we had to do, but now that I've actually taken the first step having been forced by the Gamemakers to do something, it's a lot harder than I imagined. Painful even, Eden meant something to me.
I break through the dark and see a light spot somewhere further down the corridor. Inside my chest my heart pounds against my ribs, my lungs start to burn as I fight against every instinct to give in and find Eden. I reach the light and spare a second to look around, examining both ways.
The top of the mirror is barely visible but it's still there, taunting me. Guilt surges through and joins the fear in its attack against me, but I swallow the lump in my throat and turn the next left.
"I've made my decision," I whisper to the air around me. I have no idea what they want of me, to find Eden or to give up and think of myself selfishly. I try to put myself in their sick shoes, their twisted minds.
They want me to leave Eden... because she's looking for me. A shiver travels down my spine and I yelp, nearly falling sideways into the wall. What am I? I don't want to be the boy I was in Five but he's still there, he'll always be me no matter how hard I fight.
"I want to leave... alone."
The words barely leave my lips for a second before the light fills up the entire corridor. Paintings either side are placed above and below a jagged line, I ignore the thought of that thing being here with me, it's most likely a trick to scare us. At least I know they wanted this, at least I can find my way out of danger for now.
After a few more lefts and rights, turning this way and that as I travel to where I hope is the front door, a new sense of hope sets in my gut. Eden's left to herself in darkness, searching for me without knowing I'm gone, but as bad as I feel right now it means I can now think about my self properly. It was easy to fool myself that it would be simple to leave her, each step is still a battle but my strides are larger and no longer do I feel the mirror calling out to me.
Victory is now a possibility, now that the one person I'm attached to might... die today.
I can feel myself beginning to cry but I smile through it, push away the pain and walk round the next corner. If she dies, there's nothing I can do. The Gamemakers made it clear the second the mirror closed down on us that it was time for our alliance to end, for us to fend for ourselves.
I can't fight against the people in control, so why even bother.
With all this inside of me, I turn the next corner... and feel myself freeze in an instant. Everything sinks into my stomach then rises up as I see... Eden... standing at the end of the corridor, crying. Her hair is frayed, hands cut like ribbons and leg twisted at the knee. Blood pours from a gash in her stomach and with a lurch, she falls and smashes her face against the carpet.
"Eden..." my voice wavers and breaks. What... what happened to her? All the certainty of what I decided on sheds away in a second at the sight of her, and I start running.
"Eden!" I shout, reaching out my hands to help her.
They brush against nothing, Eden falls apart and a silent breeze sweeps past my legs.
Eden...
I turn my head to look down the next corridor and see her again, a spear stuck through her chest as she looks up and screams my name. I know what's happening, what they're doing to me even though I thought this is what they wanted.
My hands clench and I ignore the blade of the knife cutting into my palm. Eden is behind me somewhere, she isn't here.
She screams one last time as I pass her then explodes into sparks. She... it, appears again with her head half hanging off but I brush past without even blinking.
These aren't Eden. I've made my choice, even if these images of my friend dying make everything hurt, I can't let them get to me.
Another one falls into the wall and fazes out as my foot cuts through a dismembered arm, and I set my eyes on a door in the distance.
The final one stands by the door handle, smiling at me.
"Isaac," it whispers.
"I'm sorry Eden."
I burst through her chest, feeling cold smother me from above, and leave through the door. The outside waiting for me.
Fortune Dietrich, District One Male
A small rivulet of water runs by my feet, dampening the carpet from the jagged pipeline above my head. I grimace and duck under, wiping the few filthy drops from my forehead and proceed further down the hallway.
This part of the mansion is nothing like the parts we explored as a group. That feels like a year or two ago, a time somewhere locked away as a memory. Mercury is dead. Declan and Lance dead. Only Callista and I remain as the two careers amongst the final eight. I'm not sure how to feel about that, a certain pride radiates within me but also rage... and sadness. Most of them were good people with flaws, something we all have.
Their deaths help boost my chances of winning, I have to cling onto that and find happiness at the fact I'm within reach of victory. But I won't forget them, not even Mercury who's detestable personality helped me reach this point as much as my own determination.
Careers fall though, they're all examples of that. I turn the next darkened corner with that pecking away inside my head. Two left. Callista's not my only enemy though. There are six others, six I never would have considered to be anything but annoying pests to quash, but now I've learnt to respect all my opponents. For them to have made it this far they can't be anything but talented.
Maybe if I die, I will receive the going away that I have longed for. A proper end for a proper tribute.
I stop in my tracks, all thoughts coming to an abrupt halt. A jagged line pulls itself through the wallpaper, orange flowers ripped at the petals as the mark deepens and draws away into the darkness.
I don't pretend to not notice the beginnings of fear churning in my gut, sweaty palms making it harder to grip onto my weapon as I begin the nervous walk down. The carpet squelches with each footstep, the water from the pipes intensifying each noise and giving away my position.
I've been in enough trouble to understand that something's going to happen. And soon. The fear gives away to acceptance as I move the warhammer into one hand, wipe my palm against my trouser leg, and do the same with the other.
I take a deep breath, composure is imperative if this is to be a fight. I panicked against the hedge and nearly died, I let anger cloud my every move against Mercury. All of it were unnecessary distractions that nearly cost me my life, I don't think I'll be allowed to make the same mistake again.
"Keep it together," I whisper to myself, pretending to ignore the fact that everywhere people might be watching me. A light further in the distance shakes; the little glass crystals swinging and swaying in some imaginary breeze. Then it goes out in a single snap and footsteps begin behind me.
A low guttural sound moves through the air, tickling the back of my neck and sending a shiver down my spine. Fear pricks at every nerve but I take a deep breath and start jogging forwards, away from whatever it is.
The loud scraping of a blade being dragged through the wallpaper begins again, some mutt or insane tribute tailing me as I turn another corner. Whoever, or whatever, has quiet but terrifying footsteps. With each one I imagine it grabbing my shoulder and turning me around, enacting some sick brutal torture. I shake my head and set my teeth still from the chattering both the cold and intense emotions are giving me.
The wet carpet gives way to hardwood flooring and I listen as each footstep is now magnified ten times as loud.
"Fortune..." Like a gentle breeze the sound of my name travels through my head. I press forwards, ignoring everything. My chest is playing up again, a sharp stabbing pain beginning at the base of my lungs but I don't give up or give in.
All my fellow allies... friends... they didn't die for me to allow death to suffocate me.
I turn the next corner, face set still and ready for another run. Instead my legs entangle with something, face scraping the wall and I go down with a shout.
A leg sticks out by my head, before I even have the chance to look and register who it is, the boot comes flying for my face. The heel scrapes my cheek and burns immediately. My warhammer pushes against my side. I stand up quickly and push out with bare hands as the tribute collects herself and joins me upright.
She hits the wall and howls with pain, her wrist twisting the wrong way as she stumbles to the side. I look at the sheet of darkness to my right and feel panic blossom, but my ears pick up no noise, the thing in the dark has gone.
I'm where I'm meant to be.
"I thought you might have been Isaac," she says between each breath. Eden Naricho wipes her fringe away from her forehead revealing wide and terrified blue eyes. Whatever she's been through in here, I feel an ounce of pity before I consider my next move.
"You two are allies?" I ask quietly, my hand reaching behind my back for the handle of my warhammer. Eden notices the movement, her eyes flicker downwards then back up. She makes no move however, she could fight and try to kill me, or run, though she does neither.
Her mouth narrows and she nods.
"I didn't deserve him."
Isaac isn't dead. I count off every tribute I know to be alive quickly in my head and there he is. All I remember is that arrogant boy with that immature alliance, the ones that preached about being indestructible. Eden was a loner, a bitter angry girl. Either Isaac changed or she did. Or maybe both.
"You chose this, I didn't. So why is it fair for the person I find to be you... not him? You shouldn't be here," she shakes her head and squeezes her eyes shut. Something is troubling her, and as much as I feel guilt and every other emotion I shouldn't be feeling, I finally take hold of my weapon and swing it upwards.
Eden jerks to the side and avoids the first attack, even with eyes closed she remains agile on her feet and dodges as I bring it back to my side.
"I am sorry, as little as that probably means to you right now." I grit my teeth and lunge for her, bringing up the block of metal to meet her head. Eden lashes out, kicking forwards and ducking at the same time. Her collar brushes the handle but thankfully I'm faster than she is and with as much force as I can muster, I push out and let the warhammer smack into her.
The end of the handle crashes with her neck and she screams, falling down in a heap. She struggles for breath as I step over her, picking it up for the final time in this brief encounter.
Her eyes open up wider this time as she stares up at me, a peace overtaking and vanquishing the fear. Eden goes completely still save for her chest rising up and down, eyes slowly flickering shut as she accepts it.
I forget about the consequences and slam downwards.
BOOM!
My eyes don't look down, I can't look at another victim. Not one dead at my own hand.
"I am... sorry. I really am."
An opening in the wall to the left of Eden's corpse opens up and I walk through. Most careers can kill easily, it's the after effects that are different for us all.
As the darkness swallows me whole I look over my shoulder one last time, eyes hovering just over Eden.
I didn't know her but I'm happy she at least found some sort of peace at the end. It's what we all deserve, even people like me and Callista. Peace, whether it's in victory or defeat.
Callista Avallone, District One Female
I roll over in agony, back pressed to the roadside. A single flicker of orange breaks through the haze and I focus on it, growing intensely as I twist my head and throw up. Groaning, I wipe my lips with the back of my hand and try my hardest to push myself in an upright position.
I know there's no point in looking but my hands find themselves deep within my backpack anyway, rummaging through for something. As they grasp the top of a bottle I pull it out, but I'm disappointed before I can even see the contents. The last droplet of water sits at the bottom, teasing me. Everytime I go to drink it never moves, it just sits there. I know it isn't really there, I drank all my water not that long ago and there's something in the rain that makes it impossible to swallow without feeling sick.
I peer back into the depths of my bag, silver glinting in the firelight but nothing else. No painkillers to ease the headache or sickness, no water, no food and no damn alcohol.
"You're screwed now Callista," I push up on my elbow and stare ats the fire eating away at the houses ahead of me. "Mum and dad must be so proud," I scoff and fall back down, my head smacking the concrete and sending a violent shockwave right down my body.
So far this entire Game has been running from the inevitable, there was always something for me to push back what I knew would happen. The careers at the beginning when I could smile, even killing Iris when the truth of a person forcefully hit me and brought me round to reality, there was always a distraction. Then when it became impossible the sponsors gifted me with what I needed, that was all to provide the entertainment for more kills.
And with Chip's murder, something I can barely focus on anymore, the idea of me being their killer has gone. The entertainment is now seeing me suffer, there are other people to kill for them.
If I wasn't so fucked up, I might try to move back to the Cornucopia. I know there is still supplies waiting, not much probably, but still there has to be a bottle of water for me. Water at this point won't do anything, but it'll ease me to death quicker than this will.
Not everyone who even goes through withdrawal does die, eventually if I don't fall to the pain a tribute will come along and put me out of my misery. As peaceful as death sounds right now, there's still something about that idea that doesn't rest well with me.
For all the wrong I've done in this Arena, there's no right waiting for me on the horizon. But that doesn't mean I want some other kid to murder me, after the fight I've gone through to even make it this far, that's just not satisfactory. But neither is the idea of dying from a headache, so really I don't know what I want.
Survival? Maybe I do, but as I stare at the swirling slithers of orange and yellow, that makes me laugh gently. I could probably stand up, but fighting... yeah, that isn't happening anytime soon. Or ever, unless the tributes all get burnt alive and the Capitol can give me a nice bottle of wine to make this all go away.
Another laugh makes it way up my dry throat and drifts away with the wind. It's all just been me avoiding fate, it was always going to end this way. Why even bother trying to fight against it?
Because death is terrifying, it's the unknown you're scared of.
I shake my head, the pounding inside my brain causing acid to drip down my lips and splash against my lap. I can't be scared of death, that doesn't make sense. Why would I have even volunteered without the tiniest possibility of me dying somewhere in my arrogant subconscious? We all know that it could happen, we just like to pretend that it can't.
You were drunk Callista. 'I volunteer' came out before you could even think about it.
I see that girl running up to the stage and frown. I really had no idea did I? I still don't. Killing Shawn and Wesley, that was just something I went into willingly. Then Iris, the real thing that broke me, but I still killed Chip knowing the pain after I killed the one girl who loathed me for no apparent reason. It was all about me trying to kid myself, even with Lance and Declan I knew how I should have thought and let myself believe I didn't need either.
Lance's death didn't even register until I woke up today, aching and burning in pain. He was my friend, we just had different ideas on what we had to do to win. His was ruined, he stood no chance. Now that my past has caught up with me, neither do I.
I hear a distant dragging of feet carry itself to my ears, even with everything spiralings inside of my head. Every regret, every ounce of pity and hatred, whatever's coming for me only barely breaks through.
A human figure, or something that resembles it, shuffles again.
Orange flames melt its skin slowly, slithers of green and brown falling from its bones. It still walks though with something animalistic coming from its throat. A low moan, something from a scary story people used to tell.
I feel its eyes on me as I push myself onto my elbows, higher so I get a better view. As it settles its gaze on me, something explodes from its mouth and instantly the creature sprints.
I don't feel fear anymore, or that's numbed down to nothing as my hand grasps a knife sitting by my hip. It would be easy to accept death, let it take me away from this nightmare. But maybe I am scared, because death has always been yet another thing I've tried to run away from.
Fire licks away at my legs as it bends down. The knife pierces its throat and I barely put enough force into the quick roll I make to avoid its flaming body. As it falls, I cry out weakly as its head brushes against my hand. Just another thing to add to what I'm going through.
The thing is dead but I leave the knife, not ready to accept more pain from a burning body.
I vomit violently all over the concrete to my side and watch the rain wash it away. The fire doesn't flicker out, it stays strong as it heats up the air around.
Everything is falling apart. Internally and externally. The fire, the tributes, the mutts and myself. The Games have taken their toll. I just know it's over soon. And I know I won't make it that far, I can't make it that far. As my head hits the concrete, my eyes flicker shut to let sleep overwhelm me, that's the same thought that repeats through my head. I can't make it.
Cloe Harker, District Four Female
In the blaze I see Chip's face. Orange tendrils curl around his smile, black smoke billows from empty eye sockets and wisps of yellow mask his shaggy hair.
My eyes hurt, I rub them but when I look back at the flames, licking and eating away at the house opposite, Chip stands there laughing. Then I see me push him into Callista who I saw coming towards the pair of us silently, and me fleeing, allowing him to die.
Because... I hated him. I loathed who he was and what he had done, but at the same time I despised myself.
The flames paint the picture once more, a cursed image forever imprinted on my eyes before Chip's smiling face fades away as the rafters collapse and the house falls into rubble. Dust wafts through the air, I cough and wipe a few specks of ash from my face and hoist the backpack onto my shoulder.
Ever since I let myself willingly push Chip to his death, I've done nothing but move, rest for twenty or so minutes, then move again.
I can't sleep knowing that when I close my eyes all I'll see is Aryanna stabbed repeatedly, Mercury laughing and then Chip standing there. He knew he was to blame, he didn't even try to hide that, and that's what made me hate him even more. Maybe if he announced it instead of thinking about keeping my feelings unhurt, I could have learnt to accept and move on.
But he couldn't.
Chip was nice, he had a wit about him, a rebellious tone, but he was too nice. I'm not nice. Maybe I was once upon a time, but not in here. Here I've become the career I was always trained to be, it's not down to determination to want to kill people, it's through tragedy and emotion that I've let myself become the killer my parents are probably proud of.
I wonder what my aunt and uncle are thinking and feeling right now. Do they see me and smile, or do they look at me and feel like tearing apart their empty shells and leaving this world? Aryanna was their life, I didn't get her killed, in fact in a way I avenged her. Yet, I feel no happiness at that and I doubt they do either.
They've seen their daughter die and their niece morph into the person their daughter once pretended she was like. A career.
At least there's no-one to remain attached to anymore. Maybe in this entire mess of death after death, emotion after emotion, I can find some glimpse of happiness that no longer can I be hurt by the murder of another teenager. Whoever that was that died today, it doesn't matter. I've lost the people I had any sort of connection with.
Aryanna. Chip. Even Lance. Whether I felt love or hatred for them, their deaths sparked something inside of me and now that I'm left in a place with no one I even know very well, I can kill without remorse. Or at least pretend that's how I feel, let myself believe that so I can win for Aryanna's sake, my own and my family's. Not my parent's. This is for my Aunt and Uncle sitting home, crying for their baby girl.
The fire catches onto the next bungalow, already tearing through at a tremendous speed. So far I've been relatively safe, the smoke is painful to breathe in when I get too close, but it hasn't caught onto this side yet. Somewhere I know it's spread down another road, eventually it'll loop round and smother this entire downhill area, however for now I'm safe enough. With only seven tributes left and various sections to this Arena, I suppose it's good for me that we're being pushed together.
As much as I don't want to murder I'll do it anyway. The career inside might be blossoming and truly taking form, years of training accounting for something, but I can get this over with. Finally, nearly two weeks of hell can finally amount to me leaving this place.
Callista and Fortune pop into my head for a brief second and my gut twists at the mere thought of them. My only true opponents. Somewhere in my head I hope that the cannon earlier belonged to one of them. As bad as that makes me feel, or want to feel at the very least, I know it'll do me good in the end.
I'll find out soon enough, I know yet another day is nearly over.
Far off something explodes, the sound of metal and concrete clashing together into one almighty bang. I flinch at the sound as it grates on my ears. Something bad must have happened for that, the fire's ruining this at a faster pace than I thought.
Sleep is mostly out of the question, if I found somewhere safe it won't last for too long. Even with the pouring rain pounding the Arena from above, the flames remain ever constant in their warpath. Engulfing every single place of shelter as it storms through our only chance of remaining safe from this destructive weather.
I look up somewhere in the distance and shake my head. I hate the Gamemakers, I hate the escort for picking my name, I hate Four for pushing Aryanna to believe she was the ideal career, and I hate myself for even accepting my place as a tribute. To begin with when it was me and Aryanna together and I was beginning to toughen up, no longer believe I was invaluable and worthless, there was actually something good to be taken out of the fact I was reaped.
Now, knowing what I've done, what I've seen and what I've become, I'd rather be that cowering girl believing she was worthless. It's so much better than the truth of today.
It's almost taken a twisted loop. From weak and self loathing, to accepting and stronger, to tough but self loathing again. I've gone through every stage. I'm scared of what will happen if I do make it to the finale, if I do win. What I'll become then I can only imagine, but it's something I'm going to aim for anyway. Death frightens me and since Aryanna and Chip, it's not a part of the human cycle I'm about to let overpower me.
The next house crumbles just as the anthem lights the sky. It drowns out every noise, even those I thought impossibly loud are smothered by the Capitol's dramatic music. Fortune and Callista circle behind my eyes one last time as the face fades into existence.
Eden, the girl from Seven.
My stomach sinks and I kick a lone rock by my feet. I know this feeling of disappointment, of anger. The finale is coming closer and closer and they're still out there, standing strong no doubt.
I take one last long look at the fire by my side and look down at the ground, squeezing my eyes shut. I haven't gone through hell to let myself be killed. Rain nor fire can stop me, or the lightning or any other tribute.
I hate myself... what I've become. But it's me now. And this me is the only way I'm going to come close to victory, I have to allow myself to be this person. No matter how bad she is.
The Stranger by Billy Joel
Eden Naricho, District Seven Female
Sam, Eden was always one of my favourites, I know I say that a lot but there's a reason I kept her around for this long. There was an edge to her that no one else really had and an anger that I really enjoyed bringing out. It worked really well with Rhoena/Scout and then eventually Isaac. However the development in Isaac from someone bad to someone good helped develop Eden and calm her down; and as she began to change so did her chances of winning. As the last remaining tributes continue to grow, she was losing what I wanted in my Victor, now was the best time for her to go. As I say to everyone, thanks for submitting!
Author's Note: Please check out my profile for all details for my new SYOT, it's the restart for an SYOT I was doing alongside Fight or Flight but postponed it until this was near its end. Now that the finale is very soon, I'm ready to start receiving submissions so please go check it out!
Just to let you know there's been a small change of plan, nothing major but this is the last four POV chapter, the remaining three for the Games will go down to three. I could explain myself but it's not like it's that important a decision, but might as well mention it anyway.
Question time!
Stand out POV and why?
Out of everyone, alive or dead, who is/was your favourite tribute? Why?
Thanks for reading!