To answer a question from a reviewer:

Sorry if Aileen's thoughts on Katniss offended... but really... you can't expect everyone to like Katniss. She is a great character because she has flaws, which Aileen has no problem pointing out. Katniss has become (in this universe) a bit of a mythological figure for some despite only three years passing since her death. Everyone from District 12 is compared to her now and Aileen is not a fan of that. So she'll take jabs at her. So what? Gotta deal with it.

Like I said last chapter, this one is going to be Day 9 and 10. I was considering just making this an interview chapter where we connect back with family members/friends of the remaining tributes, but decided to avoid that. As much as I like writing and reading about that stuff, I'm ready to finish this story so we're just blazing through to the finish.

Enjoy!

Chapter 37 Where Are We Now?

Day 9 of the 77th Hunger Games

It was dark. The darkest the arena had ever been, darker even than the night of the blizzard. The clouds of smoke and ash from the forest fire had blocked out the stars and lights that usually appeared in the night sky. Now, Aileen sat wrapped in her thermal blanket looking out into the darkness around them. Ansel was asleep besides her, or at least trying to be. Neither of them was sleeping well anymore. Dreams of death and horror stalked them at night. She had awoken twice to a nightmare, while Ansel had awoken only once.

That night they were resting in the carcass of a ship, the Ptolomea. They had looked around to see if there was anything of value, but only managed to find a barrel of oil and a bizarre altar that was covered in blood and held a severed hand on top of it. It had gone blue and black from exposure, giving off an awful smell that Ansel and Aileen hadn't been able to get out of their nostrils for hours.

Dawn was only an hour away, signaling the start of day nine in the arena. 'Nine days...' Aileen thought, wonderstruck by her survival. 'Who do I owe that too? Definitely not sponsors and not myself. No... I owe it to Ansel and the Careers.'

Thinking that only brought up thoughts she wished would vanish. If she won - because she wasn't foolish enough to think 'when she won' - what awaited her afterwards? It finally seemed an appropriate time to ask that question. Aileen was in the final six now, Panem actually cared about her now if they didn't before. Capitol television crews would swarm District 12, eagerly searching for information about her to report for the Interviews. But what would they find?

Aileen could see both her parents, in their forties but looking like their sixties, simply being stunned that their daughter had managed to survive. Would they cry? Probably not. She had never seen either of them cry, not even when her grandfather and aunt died. 'They wouldn't have wanted us to waste the tears.' her father had told her.

Who else was there? Her boss at the apothecary shop, she supposed. 'The bastard he is, he'll probably make me look like shit for not being at work.' Aileen mused, 'He's probably already hired someone else to do my job too.'

The Capitol could talk to a couple patients she helped. Yes, she had managed to save a few people's lives while working. That could be good for her image. What wouldn't be good would be if they talked to Peacekeeper Braxton. With that arrogant smirk of his, he'd probably tell the whole damn country how good of a snitch she was for him. Most of the Seam already knew she was one, but there was no need for all of Panem to know. They probably hated her enough for sticking with the Careers and killing her partner. Both of those were big no no's for anyone not from a Career District.

And Elaine and Silas. Her face grew red with anger when she thought about them being pampered by TV crews, the interviewers eating up every word they spoke. They didn't deserve to be in the spotlight. They would certainly destroy her image as well.

'Aileen's nothing but a nasty bitch.' she could see Elaine screaming, in her stupid nasally, Merchant class voice. 'She even called by mom a whore before she left!'

'Yeah, she's just bad news.' Silas would chime in, tone suggesting a wisdom he didn't have. 'Her as Victor? It'd be terrible for District 12. Just terrible.'

'Assholes! They can go suck a dick!' Aileen thought, kicking a bit of snow in front of her. The noise caused Ansel to shift and open his eyes for a moment. They were closed again shortly. His movement only reminded her that she had yet another problem.

What to do about Ansel.

She wouldn't kill him. That much she knew. Even if she was mentally willing to, she knew he could kill her in a heartbeat. 'Unless I strike now.' she thought, only to dismiss that thought in horror. The urge to kill hadn't emerged in a while and she preferred to keep it that way.

There was another part of this she had to consider as well. The romance angle. She wasn't crazy, she knew that Ansel's father was playing at it. That night, he had sent another sponsor gift. This one a bowl of strawberries. Ansel was oblivious to what was happening and could only act confused when Aileen refused to eat a single one.

'Do you realize how rare this is?' Ansel had protested, waving the gift in front of her. 'No one sends fruit as a sponsor gift! It'd be rude to turn this down!'

'I know, so you should go ahead and eat them. It's your sponsor gift after all.' Aileen had countered, acting very passive-aggressive for the rest of the evening.

Groaning from the memory, Aileen could only curse Effie Trinket once more. Where the hell were the District 12 sponsors? If there was ever a time for them, it was now. They're food was about to run out, Aileen had no weapon, and her clothing and thermal gear were finally starting to break down. Aileen would have even been fine with a little razor! She once more rubbed both her legs, feeling the prickles of hair against the fabrics. The drugs the Capitol had given her to prevent hair growth had been wearing off, causing uncomfortable friction on her legs. Ansel's were also starting to wear off as a small stubble began to form around his chin and jawline.

'Ansel... pour, love struck, idiotic Ansel.' Aileen thought. 'How in the hell did this happen to you?'

If Aileen got out of the arena alive, she was going to have a few words with his father. The asshole that he was, he had also given Aileen a golden opportunity. She had no intention of adding fuel to the fire, but there was no need to ruin the idea altogether. If she walked a thin line, she could get away with not admitting to the romance but still profit from it.

'I won't go with it. I don't feel that way about him. I couldn't either. No matter what I do, I never will.'

So she waited until dawn to discuss it with Ansel. Luckily for her, she didn't have to wait long. Ansel awoke at the first light of dawn.

"Hey." Ansel murmured, stretching out as he awoke.

"Hey." Aileen replied. "Sleep ok?"

Ansel shook his head and sat up, groaning as he did. "Anything exciting happen?" he asked.

"Nope."

"Well that's good, I suppose."

"Suppose so. Hungry?"

"Yeah. But I gotta pee first."

"Go do that then. I'll see what I can make."

Ansel, stretching once more, got up and wandered away outside the ship. Aileen leaned over to their packs, cringing when she saw the container of strawberries in front of her. Putting it aside, Aileen dug through the packs for the last bits of their supplies. A loaf of bread, two half bottles of water, and a protein bar. 'We'll be out by the end of day.' Aileen thought. Carefully, she ripped the loaf in half, and then once more. She placed one part of it on Ansel's pack while taking the other for herself. The other half was placed back in the pack.

Ansel returned and sat down next to Aileen. He tried not to look surprised by the small amount, but Aileen could see the worry in his eyes. She was worried too, but hopefully better at hiding it. They ate in silence for a bit, to tired to make small talk. They had exhausted most of it anyways. They both knew plenty about the other. As they finished eating, Aileen mustered her courage and pushed forward with her proposition.

"Ansel... I think it's time..." Aileen began, suddenly getting nervous. "I think it's time we went our separate ways."

Ansel stopped what he was doing and looked at Aileen, a hint of surprise on his face. He hadn't expected her to want to break up yet. Sure, the Careers usually broke up well before this point in the Games, but they were doing things differently now. "I wouldn't betray you." Ansel immediately spit out, a bit harsher than he meant it to be.

"I know that." Aileen replied, "But it might make what has to happen easier. There's only one Victor after all."

"But we could stick together until then. At least until the Final Four."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Ansel."

"Why?"

'Because your father wants us to be lovers and I don't want that!'

"Because I just don't." Aileen said instead. Ansel frowned, stepping closer to Aileen. He placed a hand on her shoulder softly, a comfortable feeling for her. Aileen thought about brushing it off. Maybe he would respond better to hostility? 'No, let him do it. He'll get the message soon.'

"I know you're worried, but we'll be better off if we stick together! What if you run into Chance, or Sky?" Ansel tried to reason.

"I'll run. Fast."

"Aileen-"

"Ansel, don't be stupid."

"What?"

"If I was Sky, would you hesitate about splitting now?"

Ansel paused for a moment. "No." he admitted, before smiling slyly. "Of course, she's nowhere near as beautiful as you."

Aileen's lips pursed at that comment, both for its connotation and because of how rude it was to Sky. Ansel seemed to sense he said something wrong and looked away shamefully, removing his hand from Aileen's shoulder.

"I know you're worried, but I promise you it's better this way." Aileen said, trying to maintain a positive tone. "I survived the Careers! I can manage on my own."

"I feel bad though."

"Don't be an idiot. You shouldn't feel bad. This is the way it has to be. And again, I can take care of myself."

It finally seemed to hit Ansel that this is what needed to happen. His face hardened and he looked directly into Aileen's eyes. "There can only be one Victor." he said.

"There can only be one Victor." Aileen repeated.

So it was decided. Aileen and Ansel split their remaining supplies accordingly after that. Ansel tried to give Aileen his sword, but she promptly refused it. Aileen said she would head for the trenches and remain there for a time, while Ansel stated he would head towards the forest. Both of them knew the connotation, he would resume hunting now that Aileen wasn't with him.

"Before we separate, can I ask you something?" Aileen suddenly asked.

Ansel, pleased to spend just a little more time with Aileen, nodded his consent.

"Why did you marry Sue? You knew she was going to die. You knew since the first day you two met. For that matter, she probably knew that there was a chance you would die in the Games. So why did you two do it?"

Aileen expected Ansel to lash out in anger at the question, but he merely smiled at it. Thinking of Sue always put him a good mood. "I was in love. Still am, actually. And it seemed like a good idea at the time." he replied.

A look of doubt flashed across Aileen's face, a look that Ansel was all too familiar with. "She asked me to promise something though if we got married." He continued. "She made we swear not to get involved with the Games. To not volunteer for them."

Silence fell over them as Ansel's confession came to light. Aileen did her best to keep her immediate thoughts hidden regarding that silly promise. Instead, she chuckled. "Oops." She muttered.

Both of them laughed lightly, clearing the air around them.

"Goodbye, Ansel." Aileen said, leaning in to hug him. Ansel returned it, a sigh escaping his lips.

"Goodbye, Aileen." he said, "I hope I don't see you again."

Aileen froze for a moment before breaking apart from the hug. With a slight smile, she returned the sentiment. "I hope so too."

The allies broke apart and went their separate ways, each of them becoming more fearful and paranoid of their surroundings with each step.

For the first time in the Games, both of them were alone.

Light broke through the smoky sky, illuminated the ruined Judecca and Tassel. She had not moved far from Twill or the ruins, despite her earlier desires to. She no longer cared if the monster would emerge and take her. She was still too paralyzed from the previous day to do anything.

'Twill is dead. Twill is dead. Twill is dead.' she kept repeating, shivering as she did so. Her clothes had still not fully dried, leaving her a wet mess the next day as well. Her joints felt hard as stone, while her skin felt like ice. The arena had warmed up as the days passed, but not enough to leave her immune from the effects of frost. The remaining fires from the rubble had helped some as well.

Mustering as much strength as she could, she peered out from her little fort of rubble. She looked towards where she had laid Twill out, unhappy to see that the Gamemakers had removed him the previous night. 'They're probably sewing it onto that monster right now!' Tassel thought, anger building up inside of her at the thought. Maybe that's how she would die? Torn apart by a monstrous Twill?

'People would always laugh about how we'd probably end up killing one another some day.' Tassel thought, chuckling to herself as she re-entered her rubble oasis. It was dark and cold inside, but it was her own. Her escape from the hell outside. She knew it was pathetic, but she just needed it. 'Just for a little... just to forgot about the Games for a moment.'

She tried to think back to happier times, back to District 8, but no particular good memories were coming to her. She could remember the generic ones like getting grades, winning a spelling bee, her parents smiling, saying how much they loved her, and enjoying the safety of her own bed. But there was nothing with other people.

Well... there were plenty with Twill.

'No one liked me at school except for the other 'rich' kids. And I hated them.'

Tassel laughed at that thought. She had been miserable back in District 8, she had just never realized it. She would show up to school, keep her head down, and go home where she'd stay in her room and read or watch Capitol television. She didn't have to work like the majority of her classmates so she didn't bond with them in the factories.

Another memory came to her, this one of her when she was only eight. A fellow student had come to school missing two fingers. He had lost it while working a machine in one of the factories Tassel's parent's owned. At recess he and two other students had attacked her, shouting about how it was somehow her fault.

'I'm sorry!' Tassel had shouted back, tears streaming down her face in fear of the boy's rage. She didn't know what to say, so she could only scream for the teacher. That hadn't endeared her to the boy or the crowd of students that had gathered. However, the teacher wasn't present on the playground having taken a student to the bathroom.

Tassel could still remember the sounds she made when the boy threw her into the playground equipment and beat her. She lost two baby teeth in the attack, along with a broken wrist and bruise over her chest where the other children had pushed and punched her. The teacher had eventually broken the fight up, but the damage to Tassel and her reputation were done. Her parents had demanded punishment and the Peacekeepers were called in, who proceeded to beat the boy and his accomplices bloody.

After that day, Tassel spent recess by the teachers. But she could tell that they didn't even like her that much. She could have wallowed in grief then, but she didn't. No... she got up and tried to help people. Whenever she could, she would donate money to people who needed it. She would help out with the mayor's outreach programs, trying to help feed people and fix up houses for them.

She wasn't going to let herself be defined by her wealth. How had she forgotten that?

'Because I wanted to win. I wanted to live so I lost track of who I was. Who I am.'

Is this how she died? Cowering under rubble, feeling guilt over things she couldn't change? Twill would be disgusted with her. Flux and Trent would probably feel insulted. Her parents, who only wanted her to come home again, would probably be cursing her death that moment.

'I will not shrink down and die. I won't give up! I'm going to survive, and I'm going to win, and I'm going to go home. For Trent, for Flux, for Twill!'

So what did she have? She had two packs on her that held three loaves of bread, a hammer, an extra scarf, another roll of bandages, one syringe of morphling, the telescope, and a full bottle of water. Tassel began unpacking the supplies and stuffing them into one bag, throwing it over her shoulder once she was done. In terms of weapons she had the hammer and the spear gun, the latter of which would no doubt be a huge benefit.

As for her competition, she was left with some pretty stern adversaries. Three Careers still remained, four if she counted Aileen by association. Sky had managed to escape the monster without a scratch, no doubt still eager for blood. She preferred the sword and axe if Tassel remembered her bloodbath weapons correctly. Sky didn't seem like the type for a sneak attack, so Tassel could stop her in her tracks with the spear gun if she liked. That tactic might not work as well for Ansel with his whip, but it was still worth a shot.

As for Chance... he was probably by far the scariest. The spear had hit him but didn't do any damage. 'He must have some special armor.' Tassel reasoned. 'It's probably best to avoid him entirely, unless I can aim for the face.'

The visual of that grisly death caused Tassel to cringe and quickly push it from her mind. Besides the Careers, there was only herself, Watt, and Aileen left. She knew next to nothing about Watt, other than he was a rather fidgety boy with some serious trauma on his shoulders. Still, there had to be something to him to make it this far. Both of his allies had been killed in the Bloodbath as well. 'He's tougher than he looks.' Tassel thought, disturbed by the unknown factor he brought to the table. Tassel at least knew what she was getting with the Careers. That terrifying on it's own, but the unknown... that was worse.

Then there was Aileen. District 12 was probably shouting with joy that one of their own made it past the Final Eight. The Careers had obviously helped her make it this far, but Tassel thought she remembered Aileen mentioning some special skill in her interview with Caesar. 'That's right! She's a medic!' Tassel realized, struggling to recall any other detail. Even through the haze, she could still recall Aileen sparring with a trainer. 'She has some skill then. But again, my spear gun should be able to beat her.'

So was it possible that she, Tassel La'Bowe, could be the 77th Victor?

'As long as I keep a level head and don't do anything stupid... yes! Yes, I could be the Victor!'

The thought alone made her want to shout with joy, but she confined herself to a bright smile. Emerging from the rubble, Tassel stood before the arena, armed and ready for whatever came next.

Day 10

The rest of day nine was uneventful.

The smoke and ash from the forest fire had spread across the arena, blotting out the sun above causing the arena to grow colder. The black soot mixed with the snow below, turning it a dark grey coloring. The soot that landed on the bay and river only served to make it more foreboding than it already was. Overall, the dreary atmosphere only served to dampen the remaining tributes spirits that much more. Whatever toxic beauty the arena held before had vanished.

As with any change in ecosystem, the natural life in the arena began to vanish as well. Fish began floating up to the surface, suffocating on the ashy water and whatever other threats remained below the water. Birds and gulls fell from the sky, dying from smoke inhalation and diseased food. The forest's smaller critters began to turn on one another, struggling to adjust to a radically smaller area with limited food supplies. Soon, the smell of death and rotting corpse began to soak into every part of the arena, helped by the strong breezes from the bay, now no longer hindered by as massive of a forest.

The smell was as much of a depressant as the air, ground, and sky surrounding the tributes. Sleep had hardly come to any of the tributes that night, all of them alone at that point. Paranoia kept their minds running and eyes open, looking for an hint of an enemy tribute. It was long past the point of alliances or friendliness, now it was every tribute for themselves.

Chance had spent the morning of day nine searching for Aileen and Ansel. He had accepted it was a near impossible task as the forest fire threw him of their tracks, but it was still worth attempting. By midday he had found nothing and instead turned his attention towards the source of the forest fire, the ship by the bay. What he found were ruins of the Judecca with nothing of value in sight. He had hoped to find the tribute that had started the inferno and end their life. Was it District 8 who started it? Or little Luna? Perhaps that's how Twill or Luna died.

Regardless, there were only five more enemies remaining. Victory was within his reach. Moving away from the bay, Chance decided to head towards the opposite side of the arena and continue hunting. Sky and Watt had run that way following the Leviathan's attack, he could kill them both easily. With any luck, Ansel and Aileen would find and kill Tassel and then turn on one another. After that, Chance could mop up who ever was left and escape the arena in one piece. He would have liked to be there for Tassel's death, but she was a small catch compared to Sky.

Things only kept looking better when two sponsor gifts landed in front of him. One held a new jacket, of lesser quality than the one he was given at the start of the Games, but enough to keep him warm. The other was a short sword, which managed to shock even Chance. 'It must have cost a fortune to send at this point in the Games' Chance thought, giving a nod of thanks towards the sky. Armed now, Chance continued his hunt more eagerly than before.

Meanwhile, Ansel had continued his trek through the burned forest. It had taken almost all day to traverse it, thanks in part to the rubble, hills, and fallen trees around him. He came to a stop by the river, beyond which the rest of the forest remained intact. He started to slow down at that point, considering it was the furthest he made it in the arena so far. Slowly, he trekked through the forest, alert high for Sky or Watt. All the while, he worried about Aileen, hoping she was faring all right on her own.

Ansel had also been bequeathed a sponsor gift. A basket of District 4's finest bread was sent to him, all molded into the shape of fishes with seaweed wrapped around them. Along with the gift, he also received a new set of gloves and socks. Like Chance, Ansel had gave a nod and smile for the sponsors. 'The District Interviews must be happening now. Sponsor gifts always pick up again after them.' Ansel thought, enjoying a piece of his bread while sweet memories of home washed over him.

Tassel had a relatively active day as well. She had proceeded to the trenches following her flight from the Judecca, figuring that the rest of the tributes would be on the other side of the arena. Her plan was still to wait out the other tributes and let them kill one another. Tassel knew this would earn her the ire of the Capitol, but she figured she could get away with it until there were only four left. Once that happened, she would start moving towards the other half of the arena and hunt.

That evening, Tassel received a sponsor gift. She too received bread, these loaves square and covered with lines that imitated yarn sewed over and under each piece. A small stiletto knife came with them, giving her a little extra protection. Tassel smiled brightly at the gifts, her morale improved that much more.

Aileen was also in the trenches that night, though a fair distance away from Tassel. She had found a nice little nook for herself, giving her a little hiding space and a good line of sight for other tributes who might approach her. She could still remember the trenches fairly well from when her, Ansel, and Luna had still been together. 'That was five days ago. No... four!' Aileen thought sullenly. She had to force Luna out of her mind after that. Could Luna have still survived if Aileen had continued looking for her? She would never know for sure, but that mean the guilt would vanish.

Being on her own had been a harder than she thought it would be. She wasn't hesitant to admit to herself how terrified she was. She wasn't prepared like the Careers, nor was she driven by courage or self-strength like Tassel. She just wanted to get through the day and the days after that.

Her mood improved somewhat when a sponsor gift arrived. She opened it eagerly, hoping to find something advantageous inside. She was somewhat satisfied when she found a few loaves of bread and another container of chicken noodle soup, accompanied by a scarf and glove. However, the scarf was fairly ridiculous and near useless as it was silk, a thin material that did nothing to block out the cold and wind effectively. 'Damn Capitolites.' Aileen thought, forcing herself to smile in appreciation for the cameras. Hopefully, more gifts would come. 'I could really use a new set of socks.' she thought.

And so ended day nine in the arena, only to be followed by the harsher morning of Day ten.

Watt had spent the night resting comfortably, unlike the rest of the remaining tributes. Living in perpetual fear was something he had been accustomed to for a while, even before the Games.

It didn't hurt either that the underground hot springs kept the cold away. Following the Leviathan's attack, Watt had retreated back into the forest, well past the river as well. Thus, he had been spared fleeing from the forest fire, though he had watched it consume most of the forest. Following that, he had spent the night sleeping in a tree. It was probably the most uncomfortable spot he had ever slept in, but he had managed to get a few hours of sleep in. He kept waking up, fearful that he had slipped through the branches and was going to fall and break something.

Day nine was a quiet one. Watt had spent most of the morning in the tree, curled up in its branches that protect him from the cold breeze. Around midday though, Watt accepted that he would have to get moving. He figured that the District Interviews were happening, giving him some leeway in terms of his activity levels, but it still wasn't smart to stay in one area for so long.

But Watt had found it hard to figure out a good place to go. There was no way he was returning to the other side of the arena. That would involve crossing the burned down forest, leaving him in clear view of anyone with eyesight. Sure, there was some cover with the rubble and hills, but not enough for him to want to risk it.

Instead, Watt headed the opposite direction back towards the hot springs. There were bad memories there, along with that side of the arena in general, but Watt pushed them down as best as he could and moved on. By the end of the day, Watt had descended into the hot spring tunnels, feeling at easy with the warmth that now seeped into his skin.

So he had spent the rest of the day in the springs, enjoying the comfort and warmer conditions. He did not return to the ones where Sterling had died. That would have been too hard. Instead, he bathed once more and tried to relax in the wake of the Leviathan's attack. He couldn't help but re-read the diary he picked up in the town. It only served to disturb him more, as well as anger him.

'It's all just a joke to them.' Watt thought bitterly once he finished reading. 'Making up some crappy story to go with their sea monster. What was the point of it? They did it because they could, that's all.'

Now it was the tenth day of the Games. The interviews had been yesterday, giving him a little respite, but the Gamemakers would be eager to ramp up the violence. Watt hoped he could wait things out for a little longer, letting the remaining tributes kill each other off. He had one kill under his belt, a Career as well! He was fine with that being the only one.

'Griffin was a monster anyways.' Watt thought. He took a moment to ponder what 'monster' meant. Was it the Leviathan, or human in nature? Could humans really be monsters? Sure they could, if Watt's own personal experiences were anything to go by. In fact, human's loved being monsters.

Like day nine, day ten appeared to be another boring one for Watt. He remained in the springs, left alone with his thoughts. He hated that more than anything. Nothing positive was coming to his mind. It was all just horror and worry for him.

Part of him had hoped that the interviews would win him a sponsor or two. He was out of food now, now just consuming water and the hot springs water to try and trick his body. But evidently he would have no such luck. After all, who was there to talk too back in District 3? His family was the only 'loved' ones he had, and even then they wouldn't be able to help him much. His mother would still be paralyzed no doubt, while Cad probably wouldn't say a word in his defense. Watt could just see the Capitol begging for details from him, badgering him with questions about why he didn't volunteer for his younger brother. Cad would give some awful excuse as well, something that no one with a brain could believe.

That'd mean that most of the talking would be on his father. That wasn't promising. Him and his father hadn't been on good terms for a while. There wasn't hate, but there was a gap that couldn't be bridged.

'What if they talk to them about the rape?' Watt suddenly worried. There wouldn't be much to tell anyways. Watt had only told details to his mother. Hopefully they would just move past it. He prayed that they would. He didn't think he could handle all of Panem knowing that.

Clair's face came back to his mind in that moment. He remembered confessing to her and the support that she tried to show him in her final moments. Watt hated himself for that. She didn't deserve to have that thrown on her at the last moments of her life. But her face, and her words still stuck with him.

'You deserve to win, Watt.'

Watt sighed bitterly at that thought. Did he? Everyone who wasn't a Career deserved to win. But only one person would, while the rest just got a place in the ground. 'Maybe I'll have the strength to do it. But not yet. I can't fight yet.'

So Watt curled up in the springs, waiting for yet another day to pass and hopefully another canon to sound.

Two days had passed since the Leviathan's attack, yet Sky was still terrified of the creature.

'The Leviathan.' Sky thought again. That's what the little shit from District 3 had called it. How did he have a name for it? Sky could remember hearing stories from when she was younger, how District 3 had buildings full of vats and mutts just waiting to be unleashed. Maybe the Leviathan was some creature cooked up in District 3?

There had never been anything like it in Hunger Games history either. Sure, for a couple of the water based arenas there were some mutt octopus', but the Leviathan was a whole other thing entirely. The 74th Hunger Games had started the trend of adding tribute DNA into the mutts, and the Gamemakers seemed very keen on continuing with it.

For the first time in her life, Sky felt perhaps a true hatred for the Capitol. For the first time, she saw a glimpse of their heinous behavior, their shallow love, and need for barbarity. Every tribute trainee in District 2 was raised to believe that the position of tribute was supposed to be an honor, something to be respected and admired. The Capitol was supposed to love them and respect the hard work and courage they showed in the arena, even after death!

But this... this was all lies! The Capitol was using the dead tributes as toys! They put on all that pomp and acts of greatness for them, only to then use the tributes like lab rats just so they could have something 'cooler' to look at while drinking their wine and eating their fucking food!

'If I die, that's what I'll become!' Sky thought with horror. 'My corpse will be a fucking toy for their scientists to play with! Where's the honor and glory in that?!'

Since first arriving at the Academy at the age of eight, Sky had been filled with talk of how glorious it was to be a tribute. How it was the highest honor someone in the Districts could obtain. It was her duty, no, sacred duty, to fight as a tribute for District 2 and for the glory of Panem. The Capitol would love her for it. They would respect her, not judging her by her looks like everyone she had ever encountered had.

But that's not what had happened. They were happy enough to let her go die, but the Capitol never gave her a chance. They spurned her for her looks immediately. Sky could still remember the jabs, how Claudius Templesmith had mocked during the Reaping recap how it appeared she already had her face based in. How her stylists applauded themselves for creating a 'passable beauty' with her looks. How they had laughed at her during her interview, dressed like a bear and acting uptight and ridged.

Sky hated that she cared so much. She hated how much she cared about her looks. She hated others who tried to fixate on them and cared about nothing else. She hated the Capitol!

Weirdly enough, she began to think about her former ally. Aileen hadn't cared. Perhaps it was because of fear that she never said anything, but Aileen had always treated her with respect. 'And then she betrayed me and ran with that coward Ansel and that stupid girl, Luna!'

She had spent the last two days in the forest, combing them for Watt or anyone else who had fled into them. Part of her knew that she should move on, but she was also terrified of leaving the comfort of the woods and getting out into the open. The Leviathan could spot her and drag her under the water with it, making her just another one of its limbs!

Unconsciously, Sky gripped her weapons tighter. She was still adjusting to the new feel of her sword, which had been a sponsor gift. It was still her only one to date. The new sword was black and was lighter, sharper, and handled better than her now battered and rusting sword. But Sky still couldn't help but feel angered by it. Did the Capitol really think she needed a sword at this point? What she needed was supplies! Food, clothing, medical kits!

'How stupid was I in training not to realize the value of those things!'

Sky felt light headed. She was tired too. She had only slept a few hours in the last two days. She had gotten used to the smell of blood on her clothing, but every now and then a whiff of it entered her nose and she couldn't help but gag. She had been trained to deal with the smell of death at the Academy, but it seemed utterly worthless now that she had it on her for five days.

She also felt crazy. Maybe she was? All Sky knew was that she had to kill the remaining tributes and escape before the Leviathan took her too. Damn the Capitol and their supposedly glory! She would be Victor still and retire in peace to Victor village. She'd live the rest of her days quietly too. But she swore to herself that once she was crowned Victor, she would never involve herself with the Capitol.

'Damn them to hell.' She thought, 'I won't die! I won't be relegated to being some freak show for the monster! And I certainly won't be forgotten!'

'I will survive.'

'I will win!'

The big event that some expected came at roughly midday.

It was on the western side of the arena, near the trenches. In a move to minimize the amount of space to flee too, the Gamemakers had begun the process of destroying portions of the arena and corralling the tributes closer to together.

The first to go was the trenches. Most of the ground surrounding it was covered in snow, preventing the tributes from understanding that most of the ground was actually ice with dirt and snow on top of it. Thus, in the morning the ice began to crack and break apart into the water. The river's current picked up and the Gamemakers circulated the water faster. By midday, the water had made it's way to the trenches. It didn't take long for it to begin flooding everywhere, and for the two tributes there to take notice of it.

Tassel and Aileen were immediately on the move, their speeds increasing as the water picked up from a trickle to almost a full wave. Neither was concerned about being swept away by it, but more so with getting too soaked and being forced to deal with hypothermia.

Neither of them noticed that the water seemed to be moving along an assigned path. Or those parts of the trench were breaking apart to make it easier for the water to close in on the tributes. Slowly, both tributes were drawn closer and closer together.

So when they both stumbled out of the trenches, tired and wet, they were both shocked to see the other standing less than thirty feet from the other.

Tassel armed with a gun, and Aileen with nothing.

Yes, I'm a bit annoyed by it too, but we're at that point in the Games where everyone is off on their own. That means less dialogue unfortunately :(

Anyways, we're nearing the end of the Games portion of the Story!

After the Games portion is complete, we'll do a chapter of the Post-Games, then the Victory Tour, and follow the Victor for a little bit. Like with the 76th Games, there will be three Victory Tour chapters, covering all Districts and the Capitol. We'll catch up with the loved ones of the fallen Tributes during this time and see what's next for them. I'll warn you, most of it will be depressing.

Stay tune for more!