STILL ALIVE LIST:

Skyrah Labelle(D1 Female)

Persefone Douglas(D2 Female)

Felix Saunders(D2 Male)

Calamity Astrea(D3 Female)

Azurine Bahari(D4 Female)

Algar Black(D4 Male)

Twyla Zahavyin(D5 Female)

Cameron Bordeaux(D6 Male)

Spruce Ashmark(D7 Male)

Rowan Loranger(D8 Male)

Cornell Wheaton(D9 Male)

Dahlia Rhodes(D10 Female)

Elisabeth Bronzebrook(D11 Female)

Jackson Winters(D12 Male)

Alice Kimminger(D12 Female)

Wendigo - Prey

Who died? you may ask. Well, I'll tell you now. Be on the tips of your toes. Be on the edge of your feet- for I will tell you now.

Algar and Skyrah descended upon Dahlia and Spruce like vultures, their weapons slashing at the latter. A stomach-roiling smell burst into the air as their knives cut deep into flesh. Dahlia cried out as she was thrown to the ground, a nasty blow dealt to her head. Spruce seemed more alive than I would've thought possible, his loyalty driving him to pull out his own small, blunt knife and aim for the Careers. However, sure, he had great strength, but he also wasn't used to using this type of weapon. The knife almost fell out of his hand as he jabbed it toward Skyrah and Algar.

Skyrah leaped nimbly away, her breath coming in fast pants, but Algar..he was too late. While he was dealing with Dahlia, landing a punch to her jaw that nearly severed her neck entirely, he had forgotten about Spruce...probably underestimated him, even. Inside, I knew the District Four tribute was weak. Weak and a coward, oh, he was "good, kind, brave". On the outside he could pretend he was powerful, strong, a predator, but inside he was truly just prey. Scrawny prey, to be exact.

Nobody would have expected this, but a Career was eliminated. Algar Black met his demise at Spruce Ashmark's hands, somebody whom nobody would've expected could take down a District Four tribute. Dahlia's eyes fluttered and she let out a soft groan, holding her head. When she pulled back her hand, she saw it was sticky with blood. She was barely alive.

"Dahlia?" Spruce spoke quietly, though there was firmness in his voice. "Are you...okay?"

"Fine. I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I'll leave sooner or later anyway," Dahlia grunted, fighting to keep her head up.

"You're not leaving," Spruce vowed gruffly. "I'll save you; somehow."

Watching this tearful conversation was making me irritated. Just get over it! Why couldn't he leave her to die and walk away? Jeez! He could probably even kill off some more opponents if he weren't so busy crying over Dahlia's already hopelessly gone wounds.

"It's not like you've got a...doc-octer," Dahlia croaked, splinters of pain rushing to her face.

"Nevermind that," Spruce retorted fiercely. "Somehow, someway, I'll get you to safety."

"In this?" Dahlia gestured all around them with a weak arm, in the direction of all the fighting. "Impossible. J-just luh-leave me. Don-don't sacrif- fice yourself. I'm a luh-los-st cau-ause."

Spruce's jaw moved silently for a moment, flexing itself. "Please... You can't give up. You can't just end it now."

"I'm sorry," Dahlia's voice cracked. "But then y-you'll be a little bi-it more ahead, you'll b-be close-er to w-winning if I'm g-gone." Her breath came jagged. "..Good-goodbye. And good lu-luck. I h-ope yo-ou win.."

Spruce's expression went to one of horror. "No-!" he sputtered.

Dahlia's eyes faded from their usual brilliance, the color of sky, to dull gray. Her skin lost its healthy gleam, turning a sickly shade, her mouth twitched, lips flecked with foam, the effort to speak too great...

Then, she was gone.

Skyrah shook Algar's arm. "Algar..?" It was obvious he was dead, though, and she quickly let go, her eyes widened. She met Spruce's gaze, understanding something between them that didn't need words. Then they both went their separate ways.

I felt so frustrated. She could've just killed him! They both had chances to destroy the others and they didn't take it...Cowards...I growled under my breath, sounding interestingly like a wendigo. Though, there was still that satisfaction that Cameron was safe, because I needed him later on, in my plan.

This Feast was good, though. Four deaths, as far as I could tell: Tyler, Alea, Dahlia, and Algar. Fifteen more tributes left... Fourteen to die before the arena will be open to all.

Twyla Zahavyin(D5 Female)

I couldn't believe I had gone this far, honestly. It was so incredible: To be honest, I had thought I would die in the Bloodbath itself.

Now, I was back at the Bloodbath area, shivering in the open night air, my jacket seeming way too thin in the environment. Don't worry. You'll see me when you wake up tomorrow morning. I wondered if that was true- then immediately berated myself for questioning. I could make it back. I could get us the supplies, and survive all the killing.

I arrived at the Cornucopia later than everyone else; it was dark as a crow's wing, the stars glinting sharply like edges of a knife. I glanced around and saw that all the fighting had already began- had just about ended. My bag was still there, thankfully, so, without anything better to do, simply ran toward it. My footsteps were muted on the cushion-like snow, which was already stained with the blood of past fallen. It made my heart freeze a bit but I made it to the bag soon enough, without any trouble.

It was eerie reaching for the bag, with no one there to stop me. There were no other bags and mine was ruffled, as if someone had already went through it. My fingers wrapped around the crinkly brown paper and I clutched on to it like a lifeline.

I reached into the bag and felt something hot and moist touch the palm of my hand. My fingers grasping at the thing that was so comfortable-feeling in the cold, I gingerly withdrew it from the bag. It was a dark blue rag, its heat beautiful where everything else was ugly, frozen. I felt myself thawing as I touched it, and hugged it to my chest, amazed no one had bothered to pick this up.

There was something else in the bag- a note. Curious, I untied the little red piece of string knotted around, reading the paper with anticipating eyes.

Dahlia. I meant to say this to you-

DAHLIA?!

So that made more sense. This wasn't my bag, it was Dahlia's! Somebody else had gotten my bag, then. I wondered what had been in it, a childish part of me refusing to believe I could've been so unlucky. Oh, well. I had to be grateful for this letter.

Dahlia. I meant to say this to you, you know the guy I spoke of before, Wendigo? Well, actually, I'm being forced to work for him. I have a secret that I cannot tell you, but he knows it. So, I'm trapped in eternity as there is no way I will let him reveal the secret to everyone. They would lock me up after that- it is too terrible.

Wendigo is a criminal, to put it simply. Stay clear of him, for he will get you someday. He is searching for something in this arena that I do not know of, but I have heard him whispering about it many times when he's drunk. Trust me, Dahlia, please. I know you think I'm the bad guy but I'm not. I'm being forced to work for him, I told you. I'm trying to find out more. I'll tell you later, but maybe it'll be in a long time. I don't have a lot of money and I have to pay for the sponsoring to come where you are.

Best of luck for the arena, you are doing amazing. Mia.

Mia? I didn't know who this Mia was...but this sure was strange. I pocketed the letter and stuffed the rag back into the bag, returning home, my footprints crushing the dried blood on the snow.

Spruce Ashmark(D7 Male)

I felt like a part of me had been taken away after Dahlia died. She had been the leader of my group and I had thought she would always live...like she would even win, maybe. But then, just like that, she was dead and I was alone... How could I survive alone?

Hard resolve snapped into place, though. I was determined I could do it, that I could make it the rest of the way by myself. I had all the supplies, I mean, it was possible right?

Sure, I hadn't given a crap when Murray died, but now, with Dahlia gone, it actually meant something. I was truly..Alone. If they had switched positions, my thoughts might've been different. But for now, they were rock solid, my memories clear in my soul about the two.

My voice was hoarse from...I guess...Crying?

I clenched my fists. I could go on without anyone. I could go on without anyone.

And besides, I had survived this whole way. I could make it another few weeks- it wasn't like there was much competition left- right? The thought making me feel slightly better, I gathered up everything and stalked off.

Felix Saunders(D2 Male)

I had to admit, for a Career, I felt terrible after we had basically slaughtered everyone. I had gotten our bag at the Feast so I had avoided much of the killing(it wasn't like I had wanted to, anyway; I was glad for the small coincidence). There were tons of bags left so I just got a couple of other peoples', thinking they could probably help us.

Now, in the cave, we were unwrapping the bags and taking peeks inside. I had our bag, which was a sandpaper color, and ripped it open to see what we had gotten. In the bag, there was a toothbrush- which was so helpful, like we were going to share one toothbrush- but the other thing, a small pocket knife, was way better. We had lost a bunch of weapons at the Feast, with Algar dying(his chilling presence gone was still a bit unsettling), and everything else being lost in the mess of escaping.

I shoved the knife into one of my jacket pockets and held out the toothbrush. "Anyone want it? I mean, if you have toothpaste or anything in one of those bags.."

Cornell Wheaton(D9 Male)

We woke up the next morning, exhausted but, at least, safe. "Good thing we didn't go to the Feast," I remarked, remembering the shockingly large collection of deaths last night. The sky had been practically exploding with fireworks as they projected four images into the air.

"Yeah," nodded Cameron, "and good thing we avoided that." He was speaking of the deaths, I assumed.

I cracked my back, yawning and stretching and doing all those things you do in the morning when you don't want to get up. "Hey.." I began, noticing a little fluttering red-and-white thing, kinda like a banner..?

Cameron glanced at where I was looking at and his head tilted slightly, a bit cautious, a bit curious.

Then the tension exploded and we both ran toward it, asking simultaneously, "IS THAT FROM A SPONSOR?"

I got to it first and saw that it was a balloon-type parachute thing, crumpled now that the air had ran out. Attached to it(it looked rather like little wings, to be honest), there was a plastic bottle of water with printed writing- 16.9 FL OZ- and a packet of food rations.

We had been running out of food so this was an amazing discovery- I nearly jumped for joy when I saw it. "Food!" I exclaimed, while Cameron yelled out, "Water!" We grinned at each other, because we had had no luck in finding a good water source so far, and our past food was getting annoyingly tasteless.

But now...

We dug into the food rations, splitting them evenly and making sure we didn't eat too much, just enough to give us the proper amount of energy.

However- the food! There were canned peas and corn, what seemed like delicacies now when a few years ago it would've been considered normal. A bag filled to the brim with crackers remained uneaten, a warm, fresh loaf of bread ready to be devoured. And, it wasn't made from the tasteless tesserae grains, oh, no, it was the fine, rich ones slathered in golden honey. Altogether, the food was just...arresting.

I tried a piece of the bread and it was delicious. It warmed me from head to toe where the cold had become numb; its flavor was absolutely wonderful. The water was just, well, water, not much to say about that: as for the peas and corn, we decided to save it for lunch.

The crackers were good too, even though they were dry and my lips felt chapped from eating it. They had a healthy quantity of salt layered on top that, with its excellent crunch, made me feel incredibly lucky. I had five, letting Cameron have the rest we were eating today.

I did drink a lot of water because of the crackers, which I vowed to never taste again(they were so dangerously delicious), and, when we were all comfortably full, my stomach felt like a rock. It was like we had just had a feast- before, we had been half starved, and now we were superbly full.

"It's like our own Feast," Cameron cracked.

"It is," I agreed easily, a small laugh surprising me. "Except wayyy better."

11/26/17

A/N: Omg my dad's getting mad at me now cause it's too late :(