Author's Note: Since this is the last chapter of the Games I wanted to take this opportunity to again thank everyone who submitted tributes and who has followed this story through to its completion. Now, at the finale I hope, regardless of whether the tribute you wanted as Victor made it or not, you've enjoyed the ride. Choosing the victor was very very difficult and there were many contenders, many who I would have preferred, but in the end, I try to be true to my craft and let the story take its own toll and in the end, I truly feel like even though I was the one writing the last one standing was the only possible choice. Believe me, I tried.

There will be one or two (haven't decided yet) final chapters to wrap this one up. In the meantime I will be taking part in nanowrimo working on a non-fanfiction project (not sure what yet.)

During November I will also be opening up submissions for my new SYOT, Vale Ad Aeternum. Despite the Latin lyrics that may be familiar to some of you, this is not a television show / movie themed SYOT, but will be musically driven. Stay tuned for further info on this.

Final note: After this chapter, please vote in my poll "whose death was your favorite". Reminder, don't vote until after you know the victor otherwise the end will be spoiled.

Thanks again for reading the rant. Now sit back and enjoy "Comets"

Disclaimer: I still do not own the Hunger Games.

Comets

Jonas Tanner - District 7

The motions had neared their culmination, Jonas thought as he strode surreptitiously towards the Cornucopia. The anthem had just confirmed his suspicions: the final three. He should have felt utterly confident. After all, there were only two tributes standing between him and his goal. Yet this could be the most challenging step.

The night would determine it. If he waited until morning he ceded the advantage to Margery and Leoric. He was certain that girl at least hadn't remained at the mountain following the explosion, so there was only one other logical place to which she would relocate: the Cornucopia. There might still be supplies there, but if she had already garnished them first they wouldn't serve him. He had only his stealth to counteract the crossbow he knew she now possessed. He didn't want to fatally miscalculate her accuracy.

It seemed as though it was getting darker, even a more impenetrable obscurity than it had been the previous nights. Of course, the Gamemakers yearned for something dramatic. But how were they to engage in combat if all of them were blind?

His answer flashed across the sky. Above him a singular object flashed across the horizon, illuminating the sky brightly, just over the Cornucopia for just a moment. It blazed red, confirming he had nearly reached his destination then the arena was left as dark as it had been.

Bailey Therms - District 7

She rejoiced when the darkness returned. The light had been an unwelcome surprise. She saw it now through different eyes, a different mask upon her face. With that mask and the darkness to guide her she would formulate her plan.

The Cornucopia was the goal, it would have to be. There she would find her two foes, hopefully one at a time. Even with how powerful she had become she didn't hope to take on both the boy and the girl at once. They no longer had names, not to her. She had assumed another face, at least until she emerged from the arena.

No, she corrected herself. She was no longer "Bailey" nor would she be when she came out. Bailey had died along with her parents, her allies. Now she was simply living vengeance.

"I'm coming for you," she whispered. "I have the dead with me and they are stronger than you are. You will pay for what you've done." If there wasn't time to tell them in person before she killed the boy or the girl she wanted them to know.

In reply a scream pierced the night. No, Bailey thought. It wasn't possible that one of the kills wouldn't be hers. She yearned for both of their blood on her hands; she needed to ensure that happened. She needed to kill.

She felt a brush of wind behind her and turned to see two large red eyes behind her. A growling noise came.

"I hear your call. I am vengeance. I am death" a deep voice came, so deep and quiet she wasn't certain she'd heard it. But she must have. This beast, this mutt was here to help her, she knew it. She felt it bring its enormous body down beside her and she mounted it. Did it know that it was her and not Leoric? After seeing her own face in the sky she almost believed it herself, almost believed that somehow she had taken on his identity.

What did it matter now? She was going to live, no matter who she was. She felt her confidence soar as she grasped her mace tightly, despite its weight and rose into the night sky. The beast bore her smoothly, swiftly towards her destination.

Margery Kelta - District 8

She refused to let the scream she'd heard halfway across the arena terrify her. The mutt was dead, she reminded herself. She'd smashed it herself, seen its shattered stone mingle with Ridge's blood.

In spite of herself, a shiver ran down her spine. Whether it was due to the undeniable scream that echoed in her mind or because of the deepening darkness she couldn't say. She only knew this would be over soon.

She clutched her bow tightly, her best defense, even in the darkness.

She should move from the top of the Cornucopia. If that mutt were to attack, that would be the most likely place. Though she could see in every direction her position made her vulnerable. She chose the southeast staircase, hoping the sunrise, whenever it came would be at her advantage, granting her vision before any of the other tributes.

That was assuming any of them ever saw another sunrise, she supposed. She flinched as the wind rustled through her hair as she descended. She couldn't even see the stairs before her.

Above her she heard a roaring sound, but then a flash of light confirmed it was just a second comet. Margery relaxed a little, but only a little since the light below reflected off of something trying to make its way up the stairs. The enemy had come! She prepared a bolt and set it to the string, confident it would hit its target, either the boy from seven of Leoric. She couldn't see his face, but had to get the bolt away before the light vanished. She did and heard a clank of metal. No cannon. No screams. The boy must have some sort of protection because she had been certain her aim had been true.

Margery cursed. She'd betrayed her position and they had once again fallen into utter darkness. How long did she have before whoever the unseen enemy was reached her? No doubt he had seen her. It had been hard to gauge in the dark and she couldn't hope for another comet before he reached her.

She retreated. On the stairs with a long range weapon she had the disadvantage. But if she could disarm her opponent she had a chance. If it was Leoric he would be armed with his mace. If it was Jonas she assumed he still had his sword like he had when she had been in his position not so long ago, charging the Cornucopia. But what would have reflected like that? The reflection had been circular. It had to have been a shield. It almost reminded her of Cassius's mirror trick. But she didn't have time for nostalgia, she knew as she reached the top of the pillar, avoiding the crack that had emerged and then been re-sealed. She felt its jagged edge against her toe and easily avoided it, hoping her assailant would not be so lucky.

"Stay out of the shadows" a voice from the past echoed in her mind. But she brushed it aside. She didn't have time for Cassius and his irrelevant riddles right now. They'd only confused her before and they would do her no good now.

A third flash burned across the sky and with it Margery was glad she had taken once again to the flat ground. She could see her opponent and now she had more time, for the comet seemed to be barreling right down at them. It was coming in fast and hot, burning a blue fire. It seemed to be directed precisely at the crack her foot had just struck. She had to duck out of the way as she set another bolt to her bow and let it fire. Stupid, she cursed. The bolt clunked to the ground again as the pillar quaked with the impact of the massive object between her and her assailant. That would give her time, but she needed a better shot. Or another method. She only had a limited supply of bolts. By her count four remained in her quiver, but she had other methods, other resources at her disposal. They were on the top of a pillar, a pillar she knew well, a pillar that falling off of would mean certain death. And in the darkness, well, anything could happen. She tried to make her way around quickly to the boy's last position, moving inward from the edge.

That's when she heard it, unmistakably closer. The scream came from the air above and, mercifully, a comet flashed across the sky the same time. This one missed the Cornucopia, but gave her enough light to see the figure on the back of the mounted beast. It was Leoric! How he had gotten that beast to trust him was beyond her. So the boy she was sneaking up on must be Jonas.

But that moment of distraction had been enough for Jonas. Instead of her getting the better of him he set in, catching her off guard. He still had his sword and he jabbed at her. Margery fumbled for her knife.

"Leoric! We can finish him together. We've got a better chance."

From the motion of the beast, it seemed to have heard her. It landed beside her, still leaving her to dodge Jonas's blind motions. Four bolts remaining. She couldn't waste one of them in the dark.

"Ah!" she exclaimed as one of his blows hit its mark, but low. She was so close to the comet she could feel its heat. She fell, though and she knew her leg was injured. But Leoric wouldn't know.

"Draw him to the edge," Margery called out. They couldn't have been far from the edge, she realized as she couldn't feel solid ground beneath her foot. She fought to regain her footing, to draw the other boy closer. For a moment it seemed to be working. She dodged and felt the impact of a sword to her left. He'd missed her but for how long. Could she get him to fall before then?

Why wait? She thought. She swung out her leg and made contact with something. It must have been Jonas's leg for she heard him exclaim and felt a tremor not far from her. He must have realized the same thing she had, for he scrambled grabbing onto her leg. Had he released the sword? He must have! Margery struggled and she could feel something pulling on her leg.

Another shriek, almost directly above her pierced the sky.

"Leoric! He's almost over!" she screamed louder. Even as she said it she felt another sharp swipe at her leg. But it couldn't have been Jonas. His hand still clutched her leg. But in that moment she was caught off guard and he released it. Had he fallen? Margery awaited the sound of a cannon or a scream, but none came.

Another comet illuminated the scene and she saw red eyes above her. She felt what she thought was a sharp pain in her gut. Was that Jonas? Leoric?

"Leoric!" she called his name and, in the brief flash of light, she saw he'd gotten off the beast and was coming between her and Jonas. He hadn't fallen! But she'd been so certain. She struggled to get up, to grab ahold of her bow which had fallen a few inches away, so close to the downed comet, but she felt something puncture her abdomen, pinning her in place. She cried out in agony.

"Your vengeance is her. The other is my kill," a voice said. But it wasn't Leoric's voice. She froze as Margery studied the face, looked into his eyes. But they weren't his eyes, Margery realized as her world faded into darkness. It was his face, but there were globs of blood where it had been ripped from his own, covering another.

"No," Margery whispered, fighting still as she could feel her body growing cold. "It's not fair," she knew, wanting to cry, wanting to hear some words of comfort, insisting it would be all right. All she heard was the beast's satisfied screams in her ears as it got its retribution.

Jonas Tanner - District 7

It wasn't the boy from 8. Even in the brief flash of light the tribute's entire demeanor had betrayed him. Whoever it was may have been using his face as a facade, but his gate was wrong. Whoever was lurking behind that mask they had a strategic advantage over Jonas; an advantage he intended to rectify. With Margery's cannon having sounded it was down to him and this mysterious stranger, in a pitch-black show-down.

Jonas detested the mystery. Clearly someone had had assistance in feigning their own death and whoever it was had been immensely adroit. His mind rushed as he kept his shield at the ready. It was compulsory to unveil his adversary's identity. It hadn't been any of his own allies; he had seen Nero die with his own eyes. The boy from 11 had been destroyed in the destruction of the mutt and, regardless, his stature was too drastically different from this figure. Of the supposed final eight, that only left the girl from three, an impossibility since he had killed her with his own hands, the boy from the same district or his own district partner. Surely it was the boy, the sneaky boy who had stolen so many things. He wouldn't get the chance to be quite so clever again.

Another flash across the sky showed him the mutt was flying off, its work clearly done. Jonas was relieved that it seemed the Gamemakers were averse to showing partiality in this show-down. Something fluttered out of its grasp as it ascended, though, and, in the fading light Jonas could just make out the outline of a doll. That was when the other figure charged.

The mace made contact with his shield, catching him off guard. He was grateful he was pre-disposed to preparation. He had to recover his wits, though. Him versus Bailey. He was certain of it now. But she had a power, a terror she hadn't possessed in training. He'd underestimated her, he realized as he made a move to block her and then got a better grip on his sword. He reminded himself to be aware of the edges as his foot hit Margery's corpse. They were nearly at the rim.

Jonas fingered the rope in his pocket. If she would leave him alone for long enough to secure the rope to one of the pillars he could ensure that he would not die that way. Yet Bailey seemed to be maneuvering expertly, as though her eyes had adjusted to the pitch black. That was impossible, though.

Jonas opted to risk it as he felt the pillar beside him. He held his right hand up at what he estimated to be Bailey's height and looped the rope around the pillar, securing it as best he could. The impact the mace once again landing on his shield told him his time was up. He held tight to the rope with his sword hand, hopeful to avoid another descent into darkness.

"Are you afraid of the dark, Jonas," she taunted, swinging again, lower this time. Jonas's sword clanked against the mace and she drew it back. She was clearly no longer the scared little girl she had been. "The mutt came for Margery. She killed his friends after all. And you, well, you just deserve to die you and anyone else who takes sport in these Games." She was taking her time to deride him; something must have assured her of her victory. What had happened to her, he wondered, to cause her to take on a dead tribute's face?

"This isn't personal, Bailey," Jonas bantered, trying to thrust in the dark. He danced over what must have been Margery's bow, still clutching the rope between his fingers. How long would they retain them in darkness like this?

"I am going to kill you, Jonas. That should terrify you." And then the blows stopped. In fact, it seemed as though everything stopped. In the complete darkness, Jonas felt more uneasy than he had in the tunnels. Unable to see his opponent, but certain of her presence he could feel his pulse racing. He rotated about, his shield at the ready.

"I am the darkness now," her voice said and a blow to his back knocked him down on top of Margery. The sharp spikes of the mace grazed his sword hand forcing him to drop it. Pain shot through his whole arm and back. Jonas felt his pulse racing, desparate to keep his vital organs protected. He could escape the arena without his limbs, but one good strike to his head or chest and he was doomed. He had to keep his shield on top of him. He felt another blow narrowly graze his leg.

Not like this, he thought, desparate for a weapon. Then, in fumbling for his sword he felt Margery's bow. And yes, there was still a bolt near it, one she had been preparing to lose. But what good could that do him? Besides, he needed a hand to shield himself; he would need to forfeit both in order to wield the bow. Was it worth it? The heat radiating towards his hand answered his question.

Bailey Therms - District 7

Bailey smiled to herself. He was done for. Jonas couldn't see her and she held his sword in one hand, her mace in the other. In the dark he would have no idea that she had it, not until the comet came to announce his demise. And by then it would be too late. She would have won.

She would enjoy the darkness for another moment, just a couple more moments in the valley of death before she returned to the land of the living. The land where she no longer needed to kill and all of the wrongs of the world had been avenged. Surely then she could rest, surely once she had avenged all the blood here, with this one last kill whatever spirit within her would allow her to return.

She flinched as the sky began to lighten. It was too soon. But yes, there was another comet hurling in the distance, though further off. It cast just enough light for Jonas to see her smirk. So much the better. She could show him she had his sword as well.

"So, Jonas. You told me where my parents went wrong," she said, taking a step closer and preparing for a blow to his unguarded stomach. "You told Aeden where you thought he went wrong. Now, at the end. Where did you go wrong?" she rose her mace, gathering speed, awaiting his answer.

"I underestimated you," he admitted. "But that's not where I went wrong."

"Then where?"

"Be nice to Bailey," he said. Was that a hint of sadness in his voice? Well, it ought to, given his imminent death. Then she saw the reason his shield had been down. Margery's bow was in his hand. She didn't see anything else before the fiery bolt came whirling at her. It had been lit from the dying light of the comet! She was so close she didn't even have time to dodge, only time to lash out in fury, hoping to take him down with her. But she couldn't see, couldn't think. There was too much fire, too much heat. How could he have brought her down. She was shaking with the pain, not even certain where she was anymore. Her world was spinning, spinning in agony and she saw faces before her. Her father's her mother's, her aunt Abie's, her friend Annette, Mobie, and Raivel, last of all Raivel, shaking, his face blurry in darkness, as though a dawn harassed by haze were coming in.

"Be still," she begged as she herself couldn't stop moving. Bailey just hoped she would lose consciousness before the cannon. And then, mercifully, another arrow came. She didn't even notice the pain in her legs as it cut through the tendons, causing her balance to falter. She fell forward and then it was no longer the fire consuming her, but the darkness.

Jonas Tanner – District 7 Victor of the 18th Hunger Games

Another comet flashed across the sky as the cannon sounded. Another piece of the puzzle, Jonas thought, exhaustedly. Now there was nothing to do but wait for the arena to vanish into memory. Like the bodies of the tributes, his time here would fade into thin air, into a hideous nightmare from which he was grateful he awoke.

How fitting that now the sun was rising, he thought. But it was not the sunlight that caught his eye. Since the finale had begun seven comets had flashed across the sky. Now one after another followed until seventeen had flashed, each in their own splendid glory, burning across the sky. Each left a red streak, bloodlike in appearance across the arena sky.

Only after the final, the 24th in all dissipated did the fanfare sound at last.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Jonas Tanner, the victor of the 18th Annual Hunger Games."

"When beggars die, there are no comets seen;
The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes."