Author's Note

I do not own the Hunger Games.

I feel like I owe a little bit of an explanation for vanishing from posting/reviewing. Life has just been super busy at the moment and I've had a lot of work to do, so I've kinda just been writing where my inspiration goes and playing on and off with a couple of other ideas. I do have some good news though, and that's that I have now got this roughly planned and a Victor in mind, and there should only be another six to eight chapters on top of what I've already got written. So all I have to do now is actually sit down and write it.

Wish me luck…

District Twelve Male, Ash Coleman (13)

If he had to guess, Ash would say this part was based on his home of District Twelve. Or at least the Capitol's idea of it. It consisted of hard terrain, rough, scrubby ground littered with what appeared to be mine entrances. Some were boarded up, others were holes in the ground that several times he nearly fell down.

This was a whole new vision of Hell, dressed up to look like his home.

He wondered if they did it deliberately to torment him.

The night before he had set up his traps and then climbed into one of the mines for the night. Tonight he planned to do the same. He'd caught, nor seen no tributes since he got down here, but he had caught several undersized rabbit creatures which were good for eating. This island was a good spot then, even if he could see another one on one side with tall trees that looked designed to entice him in.

No.

Ash would rather stay home.

It was safe here. Well. Safe enough. As safe as one got in the Hunger Games.

The mines weren't very deep. He had discovered that after climbing down several of them. They were deep enough that it would hurt to fall, but nowhere near as deep as the ones back in District Twelve. They were also strangely clean and well lit.

For mines, they were very nice.

The fact he was slipping under the radar so easily kept him on edge though. The Capitol audience didn't like tributes who did that, and neither did the Gamemakers. He could barely sleep, constantly expecting some mutt or tribute to be forced upon him in the hopes of some action.

He huddled up in the mine. He kept thinking how this place was like home, but the truth was it was nothing like home. It was too warm, too neat, too artificial. He closed his eyes.

He wanted to go home.

District Seven Female, Willow Green (17)

It had been an eventful few days. Willow was sore and tired, aching all over. Even snogging with Tupelo didn't make her feel any better.

They ate some more of that meat for tea. Silas was still fuming they hadn't been able to catch up with the other tributes. "Fat lot of use you three were. Why didn't you take them out?"

"We tried," Tupelo said, but that wasn't really true. Only Tyla had genuinely tried to attack the other tributes, he and Willow had just defended their allies.

"You need to buck up."

"Or what?" Tyla snapped. Silas frowned.

"What?"

"Or what?" she repeated. "What you going to do big guy? Cobble together a new alliance at this point in the Games."

"I just might," he growled. She grinned and leant forward.

"Go on then."

"What?"

"You heard me. Go on. Leave us if we're that useless. Find yourself someone better."

"Who do you think you are?"

Willow exchanged a look with Tupelo. He kissed her, but it didn't make her feel any better.

"Me? What do you think you are, a Career?"

"No. I'm better!"

"Is that what you call killing a twelve year old girl?"

Silas roared and lunged at her. Tyla yelled as he threw her to the ground and began to slam his fists into her. She screamed and reached for her spear, driving the end into his leg but lacking the leverage to pull it out or push it deeper. Blood stained the ground. Willow looked at Tupelo. What did they do now? This wasn't the plan!

Tupelo grabbed his axe and leapt to his feet. Without hesitation, he drove the weapon deep into Silas's back. Silas roared and attempted to rear up, blood pouring from the deep wound. Willow snatched her own axe and aimed for his neck, instead driving it into his shoulders just below. Silas rolled off Tyla and lashed out weakly at Tupelo's legs. Tupelo wrenched his axe free and brought it down on the back of Silas's neck.

His body jerked once, twice, three times, and then lay still.

District Eleven Male, Oliver Farmer (14)

Sierra was always so bright and cheery, a bubble of light in this dark world of death and despair. Sometimes Oliver had wondered whether she actually knew what was going on here.

And now she was dead.

Zinnia was trying to keep a brave face, her expression set in stone, but Oliver felt that he knew her well enough by now to know she was upset. She blamed herself. "If we hadn't left the other island, this would never have happened," was the only thing she'd said on the matter. Oliver tried to tell her it wasn't her fault, that twenty three of the tributes had to die in order for her to live – because he was determined it would be her living, she deserved it more than anyone – and that maybe it was a mercy for Sierra to go when she did.

He wasn't sure if he believed it himself, but that was beyond the point.

They sat huddled behind a ridge of greenery, cold, tired, and covered in blood that wasn't entirely theirs. If Sierra had been here she'd have initiated a conversation and tried to brighten the situation.

But Sierra was dead now, and they were all shaken. Maizie more than anyone. It had been her her District partner was trying to kill and her Sierra sacrificed herself for.

She hadn't stopped crying.

The anthem began. Maizie cried harder. A cannon rang out. Oliver jumped and glanced around his allies to check they were all still there.

All except Sierra.

A face appeared in the sky, but not the face any of them expected.

The District Nine boy.

The one that killed Sierra.

He was dead.

Gadge nudged Maizie. "Look."

"I don't want to."

"No, really. Look."

She lifted her head and stared. "Silas?"

The image faded to be replaced by Sierra's. The knife twisted in Oliver's gut. Sierra was dead, along with her murderer.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish," said Zinnia.

"I wonder how it happened," Maizie whispered as Sierra's image faded away.

"Mutts maybe. At any rate, that's one less threat for us to worry about."

Oliver let out a breath of relief, and then hated himself for it. He was happy someone was dead. What sort of person was happy someone was dead?

Zinnia took his hand. "Try not to think about it too much."

He squeezed her hand and opened his mouth to answer. At that moment, an explosion ripped through the air, a dull boom that sounded far off and yet still echoed through him. Zinnia grabbed her spear and leapt to her feet. "What the fuck was that?"

District Six Female, Kara Transson (17)

Two more tributes dead, two more competitors gone, two more steps closer to the end.

This section of the arena was filled with rotten and burnt out cars and trains. Flammable rotten and burnt out cars and trains. She ripped them apart to build small bonfires and cut open some of the fuel hatches to find many of them were still filled with fuel. She sloshed it around the outside of the island and over the bonfires. The next island over was all trees, which was just perfect.

"Burn with us," she muttered as she stepped onto the bridge. "Burn with us!"

She lit the fuse. It took easily, eagerly. Kara ran across the bridge as the island she had been on burnt. An explosion rocked through the air. She laughed as smoke belched up into the air. "Burn baby burn."

This woodland would be easy to burn as well. A few unattended fires here and there and all these trees should go up. For now though, she needed to find somewhere to spend the night.

As she walked, she wondered what her brothers and makeshift family thought back home. Were they watching? Were they proud of her?

Even from here she could taste the smoke. It was a foul, gritty stench, like some of the areas of District Six worst damaged by the fire. No doubt the Gamemakers would put it out, but she'd have angered then and done some damage to the arena.

Kara laughed. "Watch me burn brothers and sisters."

District Eight Female, Tyla Calico (17)

Tupelo and Willow dragged Silas's body off her and dumped it at the edge of their camp.

"Thanks," Tyla rasped. She was bloody and bruised, her head pounding and stars swirling behind her eyes, but she was still alive.

"Are you alright?" Willow asked.

"Oh yeah, just peachy." Tyla rubbed at her head, but it only made the stars worse. She rolled over and retched up blood and froth.

"You're a mess."

"Hadn't noticed." She heaved in a deep breath. Willow knelt at her side.

"Let me see."

By Willow's very basic first aid skills, they determined she had a fractured eye socket, broken nose, and more broken ribs. She took more painkiller, but it didn't seem to help. "You should leave me."

"What?"

"You should leave me."

"Why?"

"I'm injured. I'll only slow you down."

"We're not Silas. You're our ally, we're not leaving you."

Tyla laughed bitterly. "I thought we all went into this agreeing that it was an alliance of convenience, not a friendship."

"We did."

"I'm not exactly useful to you in this condition, am I? You should leave me."

Willow exchanged a look with Tupelo. Tyla would only be third wheeling here, holding the lovers back.

"We'll give it till the morning and see how you are then," Willow said. A hovercraft flew overhead to collect Silas's body. Tyla closed her eyes.

"You two could win you know. So long as I'm not holding you back."

"You won't be holding us back. We'll see how you are in the morning. We're not Silas. You could still help us."

Damn but she was soft hearted! Tyla rolled her eyes and dissolved into coughing again.

At least they had solved the Silas problem.

District Two Female, Valkyrie Slate (12)

She'd seen no other tributes since seeing the smoke last night. Two more were dead though. One, the District Ten girl, had been the same age as her.

She wondered who killed her and hoped it hadn't been Max.

This new island was all open green land with animals milling about, and pitch black now the sun had gone down. V kept her larger knife in her hand, fearful that they could be mutts, about to charge at her and rip her limb from limb at any point. She shouldn't have stopped here for the night. She should have gone back to the wheat field.

Then the other tribute quite literally walked into her.

V screamed.

The other tribute screamed.

Both of them grabbed their weapons.

It was the girl from Nine, she realised, the one who's District partner died earlier today. Footsteps hurried through the dark. Another tribute appeared from the shadows, the girl from Eleven, who was wearing a blood stained brown onesie. She stared at her.

And then she burst into laughter.

V wasn't expecting that one. She couldn't even bring herself to be afraid of the very sharp looking spear pointing at her. "What- What?"

"Zinnia?" asked the girl from Nine.

'Zinnia' laughed and laughed, shaking her head. "Oh hell that's good!"

"What's so funny? What am I missing?"

The District Eleven girl dragged her hand across her eyes. "Your District partner went off looking for you last night. And now here we find you!"

"Max? You know where he is?"

"Nope," replied the girl, and started laughing again. The girl from Nine gave her a nudge.

"Zinnia! What are we going to do?"

V lowered her knife, though she kept her fingers wrapped tightly around the handle. "I'll walk away if you will."

The girl from Nine nodded. "I'll do that."

V took a step back.

"Wait," snapped the girl from Eleven. "You're the one got a nine in training, right?"

V grinned. "Yes."

She pointed at her knives. "Can you use those?"

V drew one, spun it between her fingers, and then threw it neatly in the fence six feet away. The Eleven girl nodded.

"Not bad. We could use another fighter. What you say, you want an alliance?"

V narrowed her eyes. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"You don't. But it would be safer than going it alone for a twelve year old girl, especially with that monster from Ten still out there. And the Careers are gone, so you can't fall back on that."

"What do you mean the Careers are gone?"

"They're gone. Broke up during the bloodbath. No Careers for these Games."

V swallowed and wet her lips. "Alright. I'm in."

District Ten

No one in District Ten ever truly believed Sierra Prime could win. They just considered it a mercy she wasn't killed by their male tribute. All the same they cried for the innocent girl with the bright eyes whose life had been tragically wasted.

Her parents never really got over her death. Her mother was torn up by the fact the last thing Sierra said to them was that she hated them and her father took to drinking and avoiding his wife and son because of the memories.

Her brother Angus though, would fight on in her memory. Maybe, in years to come, his joining a rebel cell would get him shot at a young age. Or maybe he would journey to the Capitol to meet with a government aide who passed them information and fall in love with her.

District Nine

Silas's death was met with mixed reactions in District Nine. Some who disliked his radical views and belief that tributes should train and prepare laughed and raised a glass to his downfall. Others, who were hoping that his victory would help make District Nine more prosperous, groaned and drank in despair.

Not even his family truly mourned him. Not the parents that barely knew him or the brothers that didn't actually like him very much. A few of the younger kids who trained cried a little, and some abandoned training there and then, wailing that they didn't want to be mostly decapitated by some maniac by a knife.

Life went on.

Author's Note

That's the end of day four and we have sixteen tributes remaining! Does anyone have any theories for what will happen now? Any guesses for Victor?

Eulogies

District Ten Female, Sierra Prime (12), killed by Silas Fields of District Nine. Placed Eighteenth.

Sierra was of course the adorable sweet and innocent baby twelve year old girl who doesn't really know what the Games really are. I have seen male versions of this trope (very rarely), but they're mostly female and almost always die in the bloodbath. Unsurprisingly, Sierra was the highest scorer on the bloodbath poll, and she was originally intended to go down during the bloodbath. I think everyone was expecting her death, it was just a case of when it came. There's probably more than a few of you screaming 'why did she get so far?!' Well… Truth be told, that was author bias. See, while I hate Sierra's tropes, I actually enjoyed writing her. She was a sweet kid and didn't deserve to die for all that she was a terrible, terrible stereotype. She was probably one of my favourite characters, and intersected with a lot of characters who have big roles. I did actually want her to go even further than this, but also someone had to die and my plans for the other tributes in her alliance were set firmer at this point than my plans for her were, so Sierra it was.

District Nine Male, Silas Fields (18), killed by Tupelo Barker and Willow Green of District Seven. Placed Seventeenth.

So, show of hands, who saw that one coming? Silas was the trained outer District volunteer. My original plan was for him to be a Career, and be the outer District career (which is mentioned during his interview), but after writing for him I decided that wouldn't work with his character. Then, after putting together his alliance, I always knew how this was going to end. I actually had this death planned out for him during the training chapters, it was just a matter of when. Again, it was meant to happen later on, but I had so many plans for so many of the tributes that some of the original desired placements just couldn't happen.

Alliances as of the end of Day Four

Alliance One: Astoria, Orion.

Alliance Two: Tupelo, Willow, Tyla.

Alliance Three: Oliver, Data, Zinnia, Maizie, Gadge, Valkyrie.

Loners: Diamond, Maximus, Kara, Colby, Ash.