Charity Virtage, Capitol Citizen:

"Abe?"

The voice echoed out into the clearing. The young boy, Holden I think his name was, glanced up with wide eyes at the tough girl, the one who was shy inside. She kept on a stern, austere mask and tightened her fist. She was prepared to fight. But he was the one with the flamethrower – and she, she was just a girl with her fists, and his expression and her weariness. She knew she didn't have a chance if the fire of conflict were to be lit, but she kept in her firm position anyway.

"Abe..." The boy stood up, still clutching onto his flamethrower. Abe didn't flinch. "I'm really sorry," his voice cracked, and then broke completely as he poured his soul out. "I didn't know what took over me … I've been seeing things and I don't know what's real or not anymore." He paused, stepping forwards, though Abe's face only echoed a soundless snarl.

"But I know that you're here, and real right now," Holden paused. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you," the flamethrower dropped to the root dominated ground. Holden looked up with a meekness that paralleled Abe's. Almost a nanosecond after, Abe's fists freed themselves, spreading out into free palms. "I'm sorry for hurting Danielle, and you, and everyone. I'm just in a bad place – but we all are right now, right? So you have no right to forgive me..." There was a moment where no sound escaped his lips, there was just contemplation. "But I want you to."

I had never thought Holden was a bad person – I had seen him do it all. I had seen him run through the Bloodbath, barely escaping, but shaken and damaged. I had seen him mutter to himself as unseen entities scratched and tormented him, as he spent the night rocking himself into oblivion. And I had seen him attack the girl who could only be described as his friend; during the pre-Games they had acted like siblings who kept close to each other. Though I didn't see it before the Games, I could see it now.

Abe could too. She couldn't utter the words to forgive him, but the softening of her expression said it all – I forgive you.

It was like a movie montage, but the two ran to each other, and instead of a collision there was an embrace. They clutched each other desperately, the taller girl taking in that moment to hold her District partner close. They didn't say anything, they didn't form an alliance (and with the whole Danielle scenario I thought such a thing was impossible), but they spend the moment holding each other close while rivulets poured from their cheeks.

This hug must have lasted five minutes; five touching, warm minutes of a day filled with blood. The other twenty-three hours and fifty-five minutes probably weren't worth watching, unless you liked gore, and screaming and blood. But I did; I didn't want to admit it, I loved these tributes, I felt bad when they died – but I was entertained by the whole thing. How my mother would be furious if she ever found out.

There was a commercial break, and an attractive Capitol model started stroking her hands through her candyfloss pink hair, cooing at any viewers. I turned away, to Shanae, who was curled up like a cat in the couch opposite.

"You alright?" I said. I knew the answer; ever since the death of Abigayl she didn't speak much. But she hated to be alone

"Yeah," she smiled weakly. The doorbell rang and we all moved into the corridor hurriedly when my mother's gasps ran through the house.

"What's..." My speech was halted, breaking into nothingness when I saw the most unsightly image. Xen was at the door. She walked through, her pale lips trembling as they attempted to make an utterance – instead she slumped against the wall, gripping onto her bleeding wrists.

"What's happened?" I said, though I knew the answer. I was just shocked.

My mother forcefully grabbed Xen and dragged her through the short journey to the kitchen, immediately shoving my friend's hands into the sink and switching the water on, watching as the running water swept the blood away into a crimson whirlpool.

"What did you do, Xeniamia?" My mother looked worried, but her tone raised in anger. "Did you hurt yourself?"

In reply, Xen merely burst into tears. Shanae moved over to her consolingly, clutching her close as my mother raided the nearest kitchen cupboards for bandages. I didn't know what to do, but I knew Xen would be okay, right? She may have threatened us, we may have completely different ideologies, her father may be a mass murdered – but she was a human. She had two eyes, she had a nose, a brain and a heart. She was as human as the kids in the arena, and she was distressed.

"It'll be okay," Shanae tried to sound consoling, though she was on the cusp of hysteria herself. "Why did you do that?"

"B-" Xenia paused. "I'm tired of hurting everything and everyone. I'm a murdered, you get that, right? And I've been so bad to all of you, and I guess maybe – just maybe – you guys are right. And I'm wrong. Because that girl died, just like the girls that have died in the arena." Her eyes set up, glancing at us wearily. "And now I know that I'm evil. And as I sat in my room, crying, thinking, looking for an answer it occurred to me that the best thing I could do was to hurt myself … but it was still hurt..." We all looked at her, concerned as she repeated herself. "It was still hurt..."

But there would always be hurt. And we'd always hurt. And we'd always be hurt. Maybe this wasn't a problem; it was just a living entity. That was why we valued pleasure and joy so much, because we spent every single day crawling through a lifetime of hurt, looking for short, sweet relief. And we tried to find a source to this hurt – we blamed individuals, we made the dichotomies of good and evil.

But I was entertained by people's hurt, I had seen Abigayl die and done everything. It may have been wrong, I may have knew that, but it was a dark part of me I couldn't control. Maybe someone would enjoy my hurt.

What if hurt wasn't something we could put down to individuals. What if it was an epidemic. An epidemic with no cure.

Melanthe Hathaway, District 2, 17:

Our orb had taken us somewhere interesting; the walk was long, and my sword had made my arm feel heavy and worn, but we had been brought to the outskirts of the arena. It was mountainous, and the terrain stretched above our heads while disappearing into the sky. I smiled a little, looking up at the solid rock skyscraper that kissed the sky. It was so romantic in my mind, but I wouldn't want to fall down it. Or climb up it for that matter.

"You alright?" Luster asked beside me. I glanced up at him.

"Yeah, why not?"

"Well … you know … deadly task and all," I paused. I had almost forgotten about that. The orb went up the mountain pathway, and we followed. I expected having to climb up a great crevice and being too terrified to look down, but the path way clear and walkable, though it only took a mere few steps before the pressure of the slope made my leg muscles hurt.

I stumbled a bit, and Luster kindly held onto my hand. It made me feel really safe. Though I had come to find Astrid warmer than she initially presented herself to be, she was still a Career at heart – and Archimedes would stab everyone in the back. But Luster wasn't like that, he was better than that. He was quiet, and I never really understood him, but he was morally clean and also talented with a bow. It was a combination I had never saw possible; the cruellest Careers were often the most talented. So I kept my hand hugging his, and he didn't seem to mind. He even smiled at me, and for the briefest time everything was okay.

After the long walk, which I estimated to be around 2 miles long, we eventually reached the outskirts of a cave. The orb was slowly consumed by darkness as it diffused through the gaping mouth of the cave, and then it was swallowed completely. I didn't know what sight was more scary; looking into the pure shadow of the cave, and looking back and seeing the arena stretched out before me.

"Hello tributes," Leein Malpin's voice was jovial, and it sounded as if he was introducing us to a party. "Now Careers. You won't be introduced to your task just yet, but lets hand out the party presents – here is your present, Alpha-61!"

From the cave emerged a human figure. I immediately threw my sword out of its sheath, though I knew I had little chance against something the Gamemakers were throwing at the whole Careers. The thing had metal skin that slowly shifted and formed into flesh coloured skin – flesh. And the red glow of its eyes turned blue, and its bald scalp sprouted down waterfalls of dark hair.

And then I was looking at myself.

"Time to party," the robot smirked, glancing right at me. I didn't knew it was going to lunge at me, but it did at a speed so fast my eyes could not perceive it. Luckily Luster was more perceptive and a storm of arrows fired right at the device – all hitting but bouncing off the titanium armour it had. Thankfully, it had slowed down, and before it could reach me Astrid lunged in front of it.

"I usually like parties," she said, as she deflected a blade poking out of the robot's wrist. She lashed out her blade, which was blocked, and she stumbled back before continuing. "But you really are the definition of a party pooper."

"Melanthe is no fun," the robot said, its voice changing into a higher pitch. Its height shrinking a little, the shade of its eyes swirling into a darker blue – its whole physiology morphing before Astrid was staring right out herself. "But you really know how to party, don't you?" Astrid gawped, not being able to react as the creature lashed out its blade, slashing across her cheek. Astrid was unused to being injured, and kept shocked. "Well, what are you waiting for then – lets party."

Luster continued to pelt arrows at the creature, though they bounced off uselessly. The thing that worried me most was Archie, who stood at the side with a smirk on his face. He was enjoying the position of spectator; almost as if he were sitting in his living room, enjoying this from his television. I felt helpless as I watch the creature throw out its blades, though Astrid managed to successfully block every attack the cyborg dished out. Similarly, Astrid number two was successful at stopping every attack my ally dished out from hitting it.

"You – are – going – to – die – bitch!" Astrid's sword either blocked or struck at her opponent after every word she said, her teeth gritted and sweat creeping down her face, mixing with the blood spilling from her cheek. With her last word, she triumphantly struck the creature right in the neck – the power of her strike even cut through the metal, and the creature stumbled back as its wires fizzled and cracked.

I thought it had been defeated, but it merely smirked – growing around another foot, its hair receding so that it grew shorter, its features mirroring Archie's in one split second.

"Is that all you have," Archie's well spoken tone spilt out of the robot's mouth. "You really are an imbecile, aren't you?"

Astrid could only scream as the robot's arms tightened around her neck and lunged her like a cannonball at an unsuspecting Archimedes, who grunted as she crashed into him. He stumbled back, almost falling off the cliff side, though he barely clung on. Astrid was sprawled across the ground dazed and on the verge of unconsciousness, and Luster had given up firing arrows at the seemingly undefeatable creature. The robot cackled infernally and strode towards Archimedes, who had a panicked expression as he hung off the cliff. It was going to push him off.

I noticed Archie, dangling off the cliff's edge, and an idea struck me.

"Don't fire any arrows at it," I simply told Luster, and I raised my sword, ready to strike. "You might hit me."

"Wh – no!" Luster hissed, he thought I was going to reckless. He thought I was going to be a Career. But I had never been a Career, and maybe that's what the Gamemakers wanted us to do; to think beyond swords and arrow.

I ignored my ally, charging at the creature. I wanted to make a war cry, but my attempt to smash my sword into the robot's head before it stomped on Archimedes' fingers were predictable ceased by the creature, which turned with lightning fast reflexes and grabbed my sword as if it were a stick.

"Now, now, Melanthe," the robotic Archimedes' eyes were so fall of scorn I almost winced. I stepped back, noticing how close it was on the cliff edge, its foot right beside Archimedes' bleeding hands. With the effort of snapping a twig, its hands tightened and my sword split in two, its sharp blade clattering on the rocky ground. "We all know you're not a Career. Why are you even trying to succeed?"

"Because I don't want to try to fail," I answered bluntly, striking the blunt end of my sword at the creature.

It easily blocked it with its blades, though it didn't expect me to exert all my strength as our weapons pushed against each other. The creature was forced back, and it didn't even scream as it plummeted off the cliff edge. I didn't even know or care what happened to the body of the robot, but I grabbed Archie's hand and pulled him up to safety, smiling at him warmly.

"Now that," he smiled. "Was rather impressive."

"I did get a seven in training," I replied, glancing to Astrid and Luster, who stood behind us. They both looked incredibly relieved, and for the first time in my life I was the great Career who had saved the day. For the first time in my life I was wonderful, like my sister and mother had been before me.

And I didn't mind going into that cave. I felt as if I could face anything.

Tarren Keenan, District 8, 15:

I didn't ever expect my orb to lead me to a tennis court.

I hadn't really played tennis before. Sometimes on the television the Capitol played their tournaments, where their heavily made up players would pelt tennis balls at each other, and it would be hit back and forth until there was a winner. But I found the game boring, only ever watching it to attempt to calculate the physical laws behind the ball.

I thought of home, and our worn out television which my dad had attached to the wall in an attempt to make our house look a little more glamorous. I missed him. I missed Leo. I missed everyone. And now everything seemed like a distant memory … a cancer that slowly ate away at everything inside me.

Home would never be the same. Even if I returned, I'd be different. I've lost everything: my dignity, my pride and my innocence. And Cardinal took everything I needed to win the Games from me. For that moment I stood on the outskirts of the tennis court, wondering why there was no net, and just a column. I could never return home as the girl I once was.

But I'd rather return there as the girl I had not become than not return there at all. I was scarred, I was broken and I had seen things I've never seen. I'd seen children get slaughtered during the Bloodbath. And I'd seen Leo – my friend (I wish I told him he meant something to me) die before me. I'd seen Cardinal's eyes look into mine as he sadistically ignored my pleads and invaded me. And it hurt. But I could be strong now, I could take everything Cardinal had done, I could shove it right into his face.

I wiped a lone tears that threatened to creep out of my eye. I would do that. Leein Malpin said something about my task – about how explosive my personal little party was going to be. About how, when stress called, I'd curl up into a ball and sob, and how I couldn't afford to do that now that Leein was gone. I listened to his words, though my determination was at the small column in front of me – that was where the vaccine was.

I stepped forward onto the tennis court tentatively, and as soon as my foot did one of the ball shooters shot out a tennis ball. It innocuously rolled across the court in front of me before exploding, making me brows and face raise in shock as a crater was left in the tennis court. And then I took control of the adrenaline in my body, and ignored my instinct to roll into a ball and try and drown out the world – this was it. It's either run or die.

So I ran.

I had heard that a symptom of autism was recklessness and the inability to perceive danger, but I had been raised with a hyperawareness, which was the opposite problem – especially in the Hunger Games. I sprinted forwards as balls pelted, some so close to me, before exploding into a cloud of flames. One ball exploded behind me and send me hurtling forwards, scraping my already bloodied face against the tennis court. And it hurt. And I got up as soon as I fell down, which was something that had never happened before, but I just did what was going through my mind –

Run.

Before I knew it I had reached the centre of the tennis court, which meant I had succeeded with fifty-percent of my task. Only another fifty percent and I survived it. I was a little bemused to see there were three vaccines lying on the column, but I stuffed them all into my pocket anyway. I wasn't going to give them away to any tributes though – I was much too ruthless for that now. To survive everyone needed to die. I was ready for that.

I stood right by the column, still, noticing that the Gamemakers had tactically programmed the ball launchers so that the bombs hadn't been launched towards the centre, essentially destroying the vaccines in my hand. The once smooth, clear tennis court around me was a minefield, littered with craters and dirt. If there was one thing harder than charging into battle, it was charging out of one – I had observed that during the Bloodbath.

With one last moment to gather up every bit of energy, I sprinted back, running as fast as I could. I ran into a crater when I saw a tennis ball hurl my way, leaping into it for cover as flames licked the air above my head. Everything was so quick, everything was so instinctive – I ran back out, not noticing the tennis ball that lay dormant in the cavity I had used to shelter myself.

It exploded before I could acknowledge anything.

I cried as I felt my whole body vibrate, the force so intense I was jerked into the air, all the vaccines I held smashing onto the ground in a puddle bar one. I held it close to my palm, getting up as soon as I felt, resisting all temptation to shrink into a corner – I ran, and ran, and ran and sprinted some more until I almost approached safety, noticing something moving in my direction from the corner of my eye.

I leapt past the other side of the tennis court, into the safe zone, as there was an explosion behind me. This one was probably the most intense; I felt the earth shake as my face and body throbbed. All my prior wounds, stabs from Cardinal, scrapes and bruises – they all ached.

But I got up. I was weak, but in my weaknesses I found strength. I had been reaped and labelled by the general public as a Bloodbath, but I had lived a week and outlived so many stronger tributes. But I was braver, smarter and stronger than I thought. I had to keep telling myself that for any glimmer of hope. Cardinal, Avalynn and the Gamemakers, they had all tried to stop me.

I had to prove them all wrong.

I had to get home.

My attention was caught by my orb, which came into life again … Trailing off into the forest, almost urging me to come with it.

Aibileen Karpis, District 6, 16:

I continued following my orb, which, gratefully, had led me to Holden on my venture to the task the Gamemakers had given me. I hoped that Danielle had survived her task. I hoped Holden would survive his task. And, though it wasn't on my mind, I hoped I'd survive mine. With forgiveness came hope, and with hope I could fight to make my dreams an actuality.

After that meeting with Holden, I cogitated that I didn't mind not being able to speak for the first time in my life. So many times I felt like an outcast, like my lack of a voice prevented me from doing so much. Did it? Was my voice restraining me, or was I restraining myself? I thought of it all for a moment, and I realised that boundaries were only distractions, self thought distractions. Hope transcended darkness, just like love transcended communication. I could fight, I could win. I didn't need my voice anymore.

If there was one thing it was good to be liberated from, it was self doubt. With a spring in my step, I followed the orb as it went into a hole in the ground. The hole was coincidentally (or not so coincidentally?) the size of my body width, so that I was just able to squeeze through it. My eyes widened in shock as I slipped through, falling a reasonable distance. I had expected a small drop into a pitch-black tunnel, where I would be trapped with a mutt of sorts. The Gamemakers had transcended my expectations; the fall was bigger than I thought, and the impact of landing sent a throb through my ankles. There was no tunnel, but a vacuous area which was illuminated by my floating orb, which hovered in the central area of the underground room.

And after a while I concluded there were no mutts. I happily made my way to the centre of the room, my expression blatantly confused at the three vaccines that lay before me. I grabbed them and put them in my pocket, jumping when a voice boomed out.

"Hello Abe."

I quickly scurried, trying to find a way out of the whole – which I could see existed as a circle of light above my head. The wall offered no lifts to climb up. In fact, I realised, with horror, that the walls were smooth marble. Practically unclimbable.

"The Gamemakers like you very much, Aibileen," I paused, the commentator's words filling me with fear. When the Gamemakers liked you, they didn't have affection for you. They didn't care if you lived or died. They merely found you fun to play with – they liked torturing you. They liked playing with you. They liked watching you hurt and bleed. They liked killing you. "So we have decided to be kinder to you than with other tributes. We do not want to give you mutts, or violence, or any psychological scars. Instead, Aibileen, we've decided to give you a pool party."

I glanced around the room, admittedly scared. There was no sign of water.

"You cannot speak Abe, so while you're deep underground, voiceless, gasping for air, nobody – not your allies, nor your enemies, will be able to hear you scream," there was a sadistic giggle; it didn't sound like the commentator, but I could be wrong. "Try not to get too wet."

Immediately the sound of rushing water was auditory; I did not know where it came from, but water quickly seeped into the room. I felt it underneath my worn shoes, and glanced down to see that a large puddle had speedily covered every inch of floor. I rushed around desperately, trying my best to climb the wall, though the sleek surface made it impossible to climb. Still, my fingers scratched desperately into the wall – I tried finding something, anything.

The situation was already desperate; the water was up to my stomach, ice cold, as if a million needles were injecting themselves into my body. It was too cold to even acknowledge the cold; there was just a strange concoction of numbness and pain. I desperately reached into my pockets, took out one of the syringes, and injected it right into my arm.

That was one less thing that could kill me. I kept the other syringes, just in case Danni had failed her task …

But failing her task meant dying … right?

My mind cut back to the present, and the water was creeping up to my neck. I tried wading through it, shivering, though I didn't see the purpose of doing such a thing. Before thinking about how successful Danni was, I had to first complete my own task. And it wasn't go well. The water eventually lapped over my mouth, so that my nostrils were my only air supply, and then they enveloped my own head.

Luckily, around this time the water was so high above me I could swim. I wasn't the best swimmer, though my arms were powerful enough to keep me above water. My legs and arms thrashed, I found myself barely above water – and then it struck me with horror how close I was to the ceiling. Once the water had reached the ceiling there was nowhere left to swim, but plenty of space to drown.

I tried screaming as my head scraped the ceiling, my scalp aching as the water continued to press my skull further and further on the ceiling – which – to my horror – seemed to have skeletal fragments hanging off of it. And then I saw my only glimpse of hope; there, in front of me, was the void in the ceiling, the space I had managed to get into. And now it was my only way out.

Soon water filled all of the room, and it didn't take my lungs long before they begged me for air. I couldn't keep my mouth shut, and so water slowly invaded my body, clogging my breathing system and soaking into my lungs. I kicked my legs, screamed, until I was so close to the entrance. Dark spots hopped around my vision as I felt myself slowly lose consciousness, my hand poking out of the entrance, into dry air …

I felt something pull on my hand, but it was almost too late, I faded out.

Vigil Hatzhardys, District 12, 18:

I liked carrots.

I chewed one on of my last supplies, a succulent, juicy, delicious carrot, as I entered the area where I presumed my task would be. I immediately found myself in a dark cave. I whistled to myself, starting bats and watching them fly off. Well, a torch would have been nice, but the orb that hovered around me was sufficient.

I took one last bite of carrot, disappointed that it was all consumed now. I should think of how it was all lying in my stomach, being digested by my stomach acids. But we all know that the stomach isn't the only form of digestion; we digest mechanically with our teeth, and there's all the wonderful enzymes in our saliva –

And I stopped. I didn't know why I was trying to distract myself with random thought which had no relevance. I wanted to think of anything other than Helen, about how she had died in my arms. About how much I appreciated her, and she never knew it. She only saw herself as a sidekick but I was dependent on her, I knew that now. And then there was Rayann, abandoning me – but why? I didn't know whether what she did counted as betrayal or not. I guess she left me yummy carrots though, and speaking about carrots, did you know that –

I stopped when I saw my orb leading down a tunnel with now flooring; the only way to follow the orb was a mining cart. Which was going down a rail track.

I didn't even stop to think about what the Gamemakers were doing to me.

"Hello Vigil," they said, as I shakily did what had to be done. I sat in the cart, hugging my knees close to my stomach in the most defensive position I could think of. "The Gamemakers know that you were a murderer before the Hunger Games, weren't you? You were the scum of the earth responsible for the death of a family … in a 'mining' accident … we've seen the newspaper clippings, we've heard your whispers with your death ally. The Capitol knows everything Vigil."

There was a cackle.

"Enjoy the ride."

I expected the Gamemakers to taunt me with a slow start, but the cart was immediately catapulted among the railings, sending me hurtling forwards, almost out of the cart. I tried to move back up, but the motion was too vehement. However, sharp hands grabbed the scruff of my neck and yanked me back up.

"Murderer," it hissed. I saw the body of a girl, her flesh rotting, emitting a stinking aura. I tried to fight back, but it was all useless. "You killed me. And daddy –"

"And mummy," repeated the voice of an older woman; her rotting corpse almost the mirror image of her dead daughters. I recognised these faces in life. I also recognised them in death, the bodies of the innocent family splattered across the ground and walls as the cart violently smashed into solid surface. Were the Gamemakers permitting me to the same fate? The mother grabbed my jaw, looking me in the eye, though I noticed – with disgust – one of her eyes were missing.

"G-Get away!" I kicked at the woman desperately.

"No," following the girls in his family was a tall, brutish father. He looked strong, although one of his arms were hanging off of the slightest string of ligament. All the family pinned me down, laughing malevolently and strangling me, scratching at me, taunting me. I couldn't scream, I wasn't granted the air, though I did feel the tears well up in my eyes. No – no – please no.

"Who else did you kill?" The mother asked.

"Helen, her name was," the father said, almost in quick succession. "She was the ugly one."

"D-Don't say that," I managed to say, though it was choked by the six hands that were grasped around my neck.

"She's rotting in a morgue or something now," the little girl giggled. "I remember the morgue. You put me in it, afterall."

"I wonder what the Capitol scientists are doing with her body..." The mother sneered. "Meddling with her, probably, just like they meddled with us before they sent us to repeat history..."

"I really want to kill him, mummy," the little girl smiled. "Can I?"

"We were sent here to repeat history," the father scorned.

Repeat history? I got what was being said, though before I could do anything I felt the cart violently smash into a wall. I was blasted backwards, feeling my spine and wrist throb as I collided with the wall. The cart exploded into little pieces, and so did the corpses in them. I lay there in disgust as I saw the smears of what used to be animated bodies. Animated bodies the Capitol had sent for me. I was so enveloped in terror, in shock and surprise that I didn't notice my legs were bloodies, cut into my shrapnel. And my wrist was broken.

I stood up, grumbling, limping over to where the orb hovered. If I hadn't been lying down, I'd have probably joined the bloody smudge of human remains, with the animated corpses. That was a scary thought.

Naturally the Gamemakers had given me a puzzle first. In front of me were computers with numerous equations on them; they were biomedical equations. That was interesting. My eyes scanned the screen, and I noticed a small slot.

Clever Gamemakers – this was what the Capitol often used to create a specific genomic vaccine. On the computer screen seemed to be a genomic code, mine, and some equations about the gas we had been filled with. A neuritic gas that meddled with the electrical systems used to initiate endocrine-based defence, particularly in the blood. My fingers pressed on the keys a few times, corrected some equations the Gamemakers had purposely messed up, a few calculations done and an enter key pressed.

The vaccine found itself slotted out of the machine and in my hands.

Maybe I didn't need a sidekick after all. Though I still missed Helen, I missed her like crazy. My wrist throbbed and was probably so bust I'd never be able to use it again in the whole Games. My legs also hurt, and my neck was bruised where it had been grabbed so tightly. But none of it hurt more than the Helen related taunts. I was going to win it for her. I had to. I promised to.

Holden Grey, District 6, 14:

My orb had taken me to the strangest place; a clearing in the forest, taken over by a large hunk of scrap metal. Almost like the biggest cardboard box you'd have ever seen, except instead of being made out of cardboard, it was metallic. Its silver glint made the whole thing so bright my vision was so obscured I only just managed to catch a glimpse of my orb disappearing into some kind of entrance.

I trudged towards it, not really worried at what mutts or tributes tried to charge after me. I knew that after today, the Careers were certainly preoccupied by the Gamemakers, and I was aware none of the tributes had a device as powerful as I did. Feeling secure with my flamethrower in hand, and emotionally revitalised by my earlier encounter with Monk, I followed the orb.

I noticed the orb had diffused into the large contraption the Gamemakers had created through a grate, which I found strange. I moved to the bars I tried pulling the grate from the device, though there was no such luck. I smirked a little – time to use my favourite secret weapon.

Withdrawing my flamethrower, I pulled the trigger and watched the flames roar from the tip. After a short period of time the bolts which forced the grate to the entrance were liquidised, and the grate fell to the leafy ground, leaving me able to crawl through the hole and into the Gamemaker's little device.

"Hello Holden," the area was compressed – it was like an intricate air vent, metallic, cramped and labyrinthine. I continued crawling, following the orb which illuminated the dimness of the area around me. "The Capitol thinks you'll love this challenge."

"Bring it on," I muttered, using one hand to cling onto my flame-thrower, feeling its weight wear me down.

"The Capitol noticed recently that you enjoy playing with fire, Holden," there was a smirk that elevated the tone of the voice. "Be that enjoying how fun a flamethrower is, enjoying setting fire to a party … anything. You just find it fun, don't you?" I stopped crawling, glancing up in fright, almost like a rabbit caught in the headlights. "The Capitol has decided to grant you with your fun Holden; more fire for you. We like to think of it as a fire display in our day of celebration."

I think I had an idea what my task was now. And my flame-thrower wasn't going to help me.

"If you didn't know, Holden, you are in an incinerator," I crawled through a few tunnels desperately, glancing around for the vaccine. "The Capitol has one last reminder for you: if you're going to play with fire, you're going to get burnt. Good luck Holden."

The area was already heating up. I felt the metallic area around me grow scathing hot. At first I whelped, withdrawing my palms back as I crawled, feeling the flesh burn. Then I realised everything was burning, and I needed to get out, quickly.

I skirted around a corner, and just in time too – there was a cackling cry as a storm of flames whooshed through the space I had just escaped, the heat hit my face and I admired the beauty of fire; how powerful it was, and how beautiful it was. I crawled back a little, almost jarred in admiration before a realisation hit me. I had to get out of here, standing there and staring at fire wasn't going to help!

The heat was so intense, so omnipresent, every pore in my body secreted sweat. My hair was soaked in it, my clothes soaked to my skin. Crawling was so hard, my flame-thrower wore me down and my skin was so burnt I felt it hang off my palms, I felt my fabric that protected my knees singe and wear away. I was in pain. Fire was so beautiful, but heat, heat hurt. It felt so bad.

Soon flames erupted all around me. I looked to my left and saw the beautiful glimmer of flames, I glanced to my right and the pathway had flames licking up the floor. The dimness of the area around me was now filled with light; light that cast off me, making me feel so small. Like a shadow. Useless, consumed by the thing I once loved.

I crawled forward as quickly as possible, feeling flames form right behind me, licking after me like a serpent's tongue. In front of me, though my sight was concealed by bright light I could not see it vividly, were three syringes laid down on a small platform. I rushed forward, not even thinking as I grabbed one, and I continued racing forwards.

I noticed, to my great thankfullness, that there was an exit; looking at the natural sunlight pouring through was almost like glancing at heaven. I continued racing forwards, my heart beating fast as heat erupted all around me – I could feel flames behind me, and it still kept me shocked how I hadn't been kissed by fire once during this whole situation. Still, I could feel myself: sweaty, blackened and burnt. Every part of my willpower dragged me forwards, I bit back whining or complaining and everything burnt.

To keep myself from being so slow as I make my way to the exit, I launched my syringe and flamethrower out of the hole. I was so close to escaping.

My hand poked out of the exit, which was so slim I knew I had to squeeze my way through it. My body trembled, as I turned back to notice the large conflagration of fire make its way towards me, its beautiful illumination being reflected in my wide, terror-filled eyes. I felt something pull on my hand, almost as if it was trying to force me through the exit, but it was too late.

The flames crashed around me.

Unedited chapter. Apologies.

Abe or Holden … who died? You'll find out next chapter (if you want to know why it isn't both, if you haven't noticed, I only kill one person a chapter).

This is me having a weird sentimental streak, because I have these often, but I read the last few chapters of the 202nd Games. I may have cringed about how I was less grammatically knowledgeable, but I remembered the phenomenal reception it had. And well, I just want to thank everyone who has been with me throughout :)

On that note, I want to ask any potential artists out there to draw me the cover or whatever it's called for KOBK. I think I want it to be one of the gems and bloodstains, but I'm really open to any suggestions. So any potential artists out there, give me a call!

~Toxic