Axel Treefall (17), District Seven Male-POV
Gritting my teeth, I don't care if anyone finds me now. What are they going to do? Kill me? Yeah, right, I'm so scared of that. Everything is going to be ruined for me if that happens. But what's that? Everything already is ruined! Juniper is dead and nothing matters anymore to her! Anger and nothingness is the only thing I can feel anymore, and I don't care at all about that. No matter what they send me with one of those white parachutes, it's not going to make a difference at all. It's not going to affect my situation; they can't send me someone who died. They killed Forest, my only brother, they killed Juniper, my only love, and they killed my father.
Punching my fist into the rock wall, pain explodes through me, but it is a good kind of pain. It's the pain that may help me keep on living, even if I don't want to at all. Shaking my hand, trying to take out the shock of it, I can't help but be reminded of a similar scene all too long ago. Juniper had been alive then, that night on the train, when Cypress had tricked the two of us into allying. If I hadn't allied with Juniper, would she still have been alive? No, my love probably would have died like Abe Mercer, the boy from District Eight, right before the Hunger Games had even started. My heart contracts at the very thought, causing me to ram my fist back into the wall repeatedly.
"I hate the world!" I screeched, punching and punching, not caring that a fresh trickle of blood had started from my knuckles.
It's all the Capitol's fault that she's dead. Each and every one of those stinking aristocrats could have done something to help her! They could have saved her life! But no! They had to take away my only bit of sunshine; they forced my rose to wilt. And because of that, all of them would pay for with their lives for what they had done, just like Willa Hellmans had to. A smirk grows on my face, thinking about the sheer agony that she must have been feeling that entire time. She must have been screaming for release, screaming for mercy, and I wished that I could have been there to hear it, to reap the rewards of my actions. But alas, I had to be with Juniper, the entire reason that I killed Willa in the very first place.
She had no right to do it! No one, and I mean no one, should have been allowed to go within ten feet of Juniper. Though my love may not have liked that, at least she would be alive and well, instead of traveling back home to District Seven in a box. For that matter, why hadn't Willa stabbed me with the dagger? Why stab Juniper? Everyone knew that I was the one with real skill, the one who could, and did, easily kill any Tribute in the Hunger Games. Yet for some twisted reason, that girl from District Eight, my least favorite District as of now, had to go and murder Juniper. Darkly, I knew that it must have been out of spite, something that I wasn't all too sure that the pregnant woman would have had in her. Besides, the two little mongrels had already been taken out of the arena, so it wasn't like we were threatening her kin or anything like that. Of course, I did make them orphans, unless Mr. Wonderful, Willa's boyfriend, actually took the time of day to take care of them. If Mr. Wonderful's anything like Willa though, I doubt that they'll ever be taken back to District Eight; they'll grow up in the twisted Capitol, exempt from the Reaping, but worse than their mother.
A chuckle escapes from me at that very thought that someone could be worse than Willa. That someone could be worse than the murderer of Juniper Griffin, the most thoughtful and caring person in the entire world, and perhaps even in all of time. It escalates into a full out cackle, a laughing fit that I cannot quite stop, as I think about how funny this is! People out there actually can become more twisted than the word twisted itself! Just all of those little letters, combined together, and it gave them the authority to believe that they're worse than Willa. In fact, it's so funny and impossible that I drop to the ground, slamming my bleeding fist onto the rocks over and over again, kicking the air like I've been possessed. The last time I ever thought of something this funny had been years and years ago, back when happiness had existed; that thought also sends another ripple of laughter through me.
Something wet is flowing down my face, but it isn't red like blood, the color that now each of my hands is covered in. Am I crying? Why am I crying? This is the most fun I've had in a while, just thinking on and on about that irony. Listening to myself, I suppose that my chuckling may sound a bit insane, but it doesn't bother me at all. As always, nothing is all I feel, even the violent emotion of anger being stolen away from me. Nothing hurts anymore, not even the dull and aching pain that I should have been feeling in my swollen fists. If only I had been like this before, then everything would have been so easy, and maybe I would have been able to…able to…able to save Juniper's life….
"You know what, Capitol?" I call out, slowly standing up, even if I'm chuckling to the point of pain, if I could have felt, that is, "I don't care anymore! I just don't care! So why don't you just kill me right now, and we can get this thing over with?! Just do it! I dare you to!"
No response. Eerie and chilling silence is the only thing that greets my demands, so I quickly look around to see if anyone is there. Besides my axe, the rest of the supplies lying abandoned miles away, I'm completely alone in the arena. Nothingness is all I feel, and fittingly, nothingness is all that's there; even I don't exist anymore. This arena isn't real anymore, this country isn't real anymore, this time isn't real anymore, and Juniper isn't even real anymore. Had I been imagining her the entire time? The feel of her hand beneath mine, clutching tightly, so much that I could feel the feel her blood rushing through her veins, that felt all too real. Surely, the Capitol wouldn't have stooped that low…But then again, all they do talk about all day long is drama. The entire time, they'd been playing one cruel joke after joke on me, just seeing how long it would be until I completely broke down; well, I wasn't going to. They'd have to push me down a thousand times if they wanted me to fall down, and after a quick glance around, it remained to just be Axel and his axe; no Capitol anywhere in sight.
"I hate the bloody Capitol!" I yell, looking expectantly up at the ceiling, "Each and every one of you is stupid, vain, and fat! Yeah, I said it!"
For some reason, the lack of acknowledgement of my cries made me feel even better. It may have been hours before I stopped screaming up at them, but nothing at all happened; Axel and his axe were still kicking. Most of the people in the Capitol must have been appalled by what I've been yelling at them no doubt, so the cameras had probably been turned away from me at the moment. Oh well, not like I cared, as it's impossible to care when the only thing you feel in nothingness. Cypress had even sent me a little photo of Juniper and I, back when I could still feel, and tried to encourage me to keep on going. Golden curls had covered my chest, with my strong yet pale arms encircling her, holding her safe against my rock solid form. Looking back down at my bloodied fists, laughter escapes me again; that hadn't been true either.
Win for her, Axel! –Cypress
That entire little note had been pointless, as you can't win for someone who is already dead. Nothing about it made sense, so it must have been another attempt at humor from my Mentor, the one who had sent in the axe to me. Walking over to it, the face of Griffin Holloway flashes through my mind, and a yearning fills me completely. His blood would lessen the nothingness, but I'm not all too sure, since he hadn't been the one that killed my father. But at the same time, he was, all of District One is held responsible, so it's all right if he is the one to pay for their crimes. After all, they all rant on about the honor of representing their District; by the time I'm done with him, District One is going to be out of the Hunger Games for sure. More laughter escapes me, not from a joke, but because it just feels right and normal to do so.
"I'm coming to get you, District One!" I jeer, guffawing the entire time as I do so, "Your money can't save you now, 'cause Axel and his axe are on the way!"
Grabbing my beloved axe, for a brief second, I feel a flicker of something. Emotion feels foreign to me now, and I can't exactly tell what it was that came back to me. Too bad it's gone now, drowning in the sea of nothingness that has begun to define me in this arena of death and destruction. Would it come back when the blood of District One flowed freely on my hands? Even if it didn't, it's not like I'd be able to care; thanks to Willa and the Capitol, I'd never be able to care again. They'd have to pay for that, some sort of horrible punishment, even worse than being fed to the Minotaur. Perhaps I'd go and start the next rebellion, to finally finish what the Mockingjay had dimwittedly started.
Abruptly walking forward, the Cornucopia must not be all too far from here. Tightening my grip on the axe handle, a sadistic and malicious smirk grows on my face until the insane laughter kicks up once again. Steadying footsteps of mine slap the ground again and again; sounding like the slaps I'd be giving to Griffin, which is if my axe isn't available. We all know that I'm capable of doing much more than chopping wood with this little beauty; Axel and his axe are sure to win the battle. Minutes must have passed by now, but I still don't see the Career Pack around here anywhere; the Cornucopia can't have been that far away. Hadn't the entire point of the rampaging mutation been to drive us all together? To ensure that the Capitol would be receiving the show that they had been wanting?
After what felt like half an hour, in which the boring nothingness had continued to plague me, the waiting period is finally over. Silent echoes of voices reach my ears, letting me know that Tributes are ahead; probably the Careers. Really, they had been the most pathetic ones in the history of the Hunger Games, not even going out to do organized hunts or anything; or at least, they hadn't to my knowledge. Had those training schools of them finally made a large mistake? The face of Leah Dagger worms its way into my mind, letting me know that at least one real Career is still alive in the arena, and all too willing to extend the nothingness that I'd been feeling to all that I was. Nothingness was me already, so she already missed out on her chance; I let out a chuckle at that.
"Oh, Careers…," I call out, lazily jerking open the steel door, "Axel and his axe are here…"
All of the murmuring instantly ceases, even more so as I poke my head inside, a dagger seemingly sprouting out of the wall a couple feet away. Good, they're all ready for a fight, but this is all between District One and I. Leah and Jackson would just have to wait their turn, and then Axel and his axe will be all too happy to give them what has been coming to them. True to her name, Leah's holding a vicious dagger, a plethora of knives strapped onto a compact black vest. Of course, one of them just happens to be near my head; it's fun to pluck it out of the wall, to watch as my still bleeding hands cover it in delightful red blood.
"Looking for something?" I asked cheekily, a feeling coursing through me before vanishing again.
"Yes," Leah replied, scowling, "And if you don't mind, I'd like it back. Now."
Shaking my head, I stared down at the tip of the knife and couldn't help but wonder. Previously, hitting my hands against the rock wall for hours didn't hurt at all. It may very well be that I'd feel no pain from the knife either, that nothing really was all that I could feel; the hypothesis sounded logical enough to me. Taking the knife, I stabbed it into my own left hand, marveling when the grimace from pain never came. Blood flowed out again, but it had already been doing that, and it continued to not hinder me in the very slightest. It clatters to the ground, distorting and tearing open my hand even more, but I still don't care, I still continue to feel the nothingness.
"Someone's going to the funny farm!" Jackson laughs, staring at me with excitement in his amber colored eyes, "And no, it's not me this time, Leah!"
Leah rolls her eyes, smiling sweetly, "But it was last time, Jackson. And if I remember correctly, Griffin wanted to be the one to kill Seven anyways- he already missed his chance with the girl, so let him have the boy. Put Seven out of his misery, Griff-Griff!"
I chortle at the nickname, glad to see that District One doesn't look quite amused by his ally's antics. As always, a sword is in Griffin's hand; I bet he even cuddles with the weapon. But it's nothing compared to my beautiful axe, which I'm gripping in both hands, only slightly noticing the amount of bleeding coming from it. Neither of us are much for words, but I glare at him, and in return, the Career smirks at me; he's acting like he knows something that I don't. Well, it's really the other way around, as the pretty boy has no idea at all that I'm going to be the one to kill him, the one to finally get revenge for the death of my father.
Lunging towards him, my axe swinging towards his neck, I only strike open air. Frowning, an abnormal sensation is causing my hand to tingle, a feeling that I ignore, concentrating on the nothingness and hoping that it'll fade with time. Everything else had successfully faded away, so why should this be any different? Balance is proving to be a bit tricky right now, but I'm positive that I'm going to be able to kill Griffin Holloway; he's just another idiotic District One Tribute. Swinging my axe up vertically, it again meets open air, causing me to grit my teeth and try again and again and again.
"Stay still!" I scream, right when I realize that he's been predicting my movements, and thus moving accordingly.
My opponent merely shakes his head, whipping out his sword with lightening speed. For a brief second, I see it arching above my head, and I expect this to be the end. Instead, pain explodes through me, coloring my world with sensations once again; the nothingness, along with my right ear, is gone. More blood is flowing freely out of me, but Griffin doesn't dare to stop there, he keeps on going. Each slice of his sword is clean, chopping off bits and pieces of me until I can't stand it anymore, my knees buckling under the pain. Dimly, I'm aware that I'm still gripping my axe, that Axel and his axe are still fighting, but all I can think about is how wrong I was. How wrong I always was, and now, always will have been…
"Any last words?" Griffin says coolly, his sword poised at my throat.
Ree…Bell…ReeBell….Reebell….Rebell…Rebellion….Please Rebel…And now, when it's all too late do I finally understand that final message. But they have to show full coverage of the deaths, so with all the strength I can muster, I scream out that precious word, the message in disguise from someone I hated.
"Rebel!"
A moment later, Griffin puts an end to me, casting me back out into the nothingness forevermore…
Adia Loya (16), District Thirteen Female-POV
Right when the white parachute appears above me, the second cannon blast of the day goes off, almost scaring me senseless. Could Reina have died? No, she's much too smart to have gone out without a fight. After all, this is the fifth day that we've been in the arena, so that cannon could have belonged to just about anyone. It could have belonged to Jet…No, it couldn't have been Jet easier; he's got a trick or two up his sleeve, that much I'm sure of. What could it have been thought? Had he been training in the Capitol's army? Yet once again, that doesn't seem to fit as well, as I'd been the only one sneaking into those sessions. In fact, the Capitol might have noticed and Reaped me on purpose; regret slowly builds up inside of me at those thoughts.
The item sails down into my laps, and from the softness of it, I suspect that it's some sort of food item. Eagerly opening up the parcel, which doesn't come with a note, a warm loaf of bread sits in front of me. Baked just like the way it is back in District Thirteen, which draws a smile into my face. Hunger rolls through my stomach again, so I don't hesitate to rip off a tiny chunk, forcing myself to eat it slowly and carefully; I may not get another loaf sponsored for a while. Still, the taste is so much like what I've been missing that tears spring to my eyes. I've been missing my family a lot in the Hunger Games, more than I would have believed possible; all of the new drawings I'd done had been of them.
My father, training the army for the Capitol had been one of the first ones. No doubt that the Capitol had turned the cameras away, not wanting to let the Districts know about the things that they had been doing. Naturally, it would only make sense then for the army to be trained in the Capitol, not in District Thirteen; people in the Capitol didn't pride themselves on being very logical, it seems. But maybe they had done that on purpose, wanting another District to join the Career Pack, just like Obsidian and Vortexa had done during their Hunger Games. Jet and I, however, hadn't even walked over to the Careers and asked to join, meaning that there hadn't been any thoughts of recruiting us; Reina Vane is the only person that I would want for an ally.
Fabian and I are in my next drawing; there's several of them like that in this little book. The two of us had been the best of friends, a brilliant relationship that hadn't always been formed between siblings, yet I'm glad that it did. When my brother had found out that I snuck off to train with the Capitol army, he didn't even tell Dad about it, keeping it as our little secret. Only a true friend would do that for you, so I'm hoping that I'll be able to come home, that way I can tell Fabian how grateful I am for his actions. And if I did win, then I could use my money, blood money, to help him in his research, research to improve the conditions of the Districts of Panem. It's really the only thing that the money should be used for, as it would help out the families of the people who had died, people who had died without a need or cause for it. Because of that, the Capitol cannot be anything but horrible, twisted, and completely delusional in each way possible.
Eventually, only eight of us would be left in this arena, meaning that they'd start doing interviews with our family members. Would they be taken to the Capitol for them? Or done at the Justice Building? I've never really considered it before, as none of my friends or family had ever gone into the Hunger Games, with the exception of me. Hopefully, my family would be being interviewed soon enough, instead of being one of the four mourning families that find out that their child just didn't make it far enough. My father would feel terrible, no doubt, if I were to die and part of it because he too would suspect the unfair Reaping. The Capitol, in his mind, might have been handing out a punishment to him through me, for not training their soldiers hard enough. If there had been some way for me to tell him what actually happened, then I would do it, but any words on the army wouldn't ever make it to the television screen.
Abruptly, the Capitol anthem begins to play, signaling the end of yet another day in the arena. To me, it doesn't feel like nearly enough hours for it to have already begun, but the Gamemakers have been known to do if before. They're bound to have been getting bored, with only two deaths today, and none at all happening yesterday; the Careers have been very idle. I brace myself, worried if Reina's going to be shown soon, but the Capitol seal remains high up in the sky. Well, in this case, high up on the rocky ceiling, looking a bit distorted from the numerous stalactites staring down at us all. Hopefully nothing sends them all crashing down, as we'd be dead the minute they come into contact with our skulls; the Gamemakers probably have that planned though, I reflected sadly.
Wild red hair and icy blue eyes, the first face shown in the sky tonight is the one I had been dreading. Reina had died at some point today; I should have been there to help her. That's what allies are supposed to do for each other, but I had failed at that simple task, and now the entire nation of Panem would be watching her death. Mercifully, it looks as if it's a short one, but I school my expression, not wanting to look weak; they might have known that we were allies. Instead of feeling like crying, my resolve only strengthens, making me more and more determined to bring home another win for District Thirteen this year. Tightening my hands into fists, the next face shown is Axel Treefall, the moody boy from District Seven. No one else had died in the arena tonight, and since I didn't know Axel all too well, it's harder to not concentrate all on Reina and how I had failed to do what allies did for one another.
"Attention, Tributes!" the voice of the announcer, Aelius Templesmith, called out, "With only eleven of you remaining, and on the eve of the fifth day, the Capitol had decided to extend a generous invitation towards you. Tomorrow, a feast shall be held at the Cornucopia cavern, and do note that you will not want to decline this invitation lightly. Food will be provided, along with something each of you quite desire…Good night, the final eleven Tributes of the One Hundred and Seventy Fifth Hunger Games! As always, may the odds be ever in your favor!"
Cashmere Combe: Skull shattered by a mace, throat stabbed and sliced with a rapier by Wednesday Vespers (D10)
Griffin Holloway:
Leah Dagger:
Jackson Leo Ross:
Malaya Finaca:
Jitz Low: Skull smashed and strangled by Griffin Holloway (D1)-BB
Fialla Howards: Electrocuted from a trap created by Reina Vane (D5)
Nicolas Riddle: Bleeding profusely from Fialla Howards (D4), suffered severe brain damage from a trap constructed by Maya Eberhart (D6)
Reina Vane: Knife flung into heart from a trap created by Maya Eberhart (D6)
Elezar Brewen:
Maya Eberhart:
Cassius Lisette: Shot with an arrow, then cut up into several pieces by Tetra Comn (D11)
Juniper Griffin: Stabbed with a dagger repeatedly by Willa Hellmans (D8)
Axel Treefall: Sliced into pieces with a Japanese Long Sword by Griffin Holloway (D1)
Willa Hellmans: Pummeled by Axel Treefall (D7), who left her to the Minotaur, which speared her heart with its horn (The Capitol)
Abe Mercer: Fell off his platform, his bad knee had given out (The Capitol)-BB
Cedar Tremaine: Throat slit with a silver dagger by Tetra Comn (D11)-BB
Ebon Furial: Skull cracked, dangled as he bleeds to death by Cashmere Combe (D1)-BB
Wednesday Vespers:
Ether Lessing: Tortured with stiletto knives by Leah Dagger (D2)-BB
Tetra Comn:
Persei Baxwoll:
Rocky Nightlock: Sword driven completely through upper body by Jackson Leo Ross (D2)
Josh Quick: Speared through the stomach by Reina Vane (D5)-BB
Adia Loya:
Jet Newton:
Axel Treefall: You were like the anti-Career of the 175th Hunger Games, which limited you to certain things in your personality. Growing up the way you did had been hard, having all of the people you loved taken from you time and time again; people are bound to end up broken. While you weren't completely gone, you had as much charm as Katniss Everdeen, and just like the Mockingjay, you had someone that you desperately wanted to protect. Juniper Griffin, who you claimed to be your one true love, and they had to take her from you too. It drove you to insanity, the reason that I chose to have Griffin kill you; you would have become like Tetra had you carried on. But truly, you were an interesting character, loyal and protective, and very kind. You can be reunited with Juniper, Forest, and your parents, but don't think that we won't miss you; may you rest in peace.