Rialta Vernell (18) D4F
I regret everything. I was cold. I was wet. It was nasty outside. I thought blankly to myself that I could have remained in the basement, but I couldn't. It was packed with snow, the stairs to it were snowy, and rubble covered it. My shirt was freezing to my body, but I couldn't take it off. I would just die. My pants were frozen. My socks were frozen. I could practically feel the frostbite setting in, and I couldn't even cry. I knew that if I did, the tears would freeze to my face.
One sponsor gift changed that. I opened up a parachute to find nothing other than a beautiful flamethrower. It was wonderful. I almost did cry, and I could almost afford it. I had heat. I could warm myself up. The flamethrower was large, meaning it probably had a lot of fuel. I could only imagine how long it was going to last me. I could only imagine how much I could warm up my frozen limbs and clothing. I actually had a chance again.
Two thoughts collided in my mind. One: I had to warm myself up quickly, or else I would die. Two: If I warmed myself too quickly, aka touched the flame from the thrower, I would also die. I sat and considered what to do, knowing every second that it took me to plan was a second closer to death. It took me longer than I thought it should have to figure out what I had to do, and when I did, I almost had to laugh at my foolishness. It didn't matter if I made a scene; I had a flamethrower. Most people couldn't beat that in a fight.
I stood up, forcing my legs to bend. They were pretty stuck, and I couldn't really feel them, but they supported me. I limped awkwardly out of the pile of house that I was in, and then I turned around. I looked at the glory that had once sheltered me, said a silent pray to nothing in thanks for it, and then held the flamethrower to it. It took a second to light, which I assumed was spent burning snow, then began to smoke. Then a flame started up, first a spark, then a blazing fire, and I knew I had been successful.
I held my hand out to the flame, trying to warm my frozen fingers. I didn't feel any warmth, so I eased in a little bit closer. I didn't want to burn myself. I had to unfreeze myself. Still, I felt no warmth. I inched closer again. No warmth again. The cycle repeated itself for a while before I decided to just walk forward until I felt something, anything at all.
A burst of heat stopped me in my tracks. Not warmth, heat. My entire arm, every part that wasn't frozen, screamed in agony. So did I. I took a quick step back and dropped onto the ground, hoping the snow would put out the pain. I saw that my dead hands hadn't warned me that I had been setting my shirt on fire. I rolled across the ground, still screaming, trying to put out the flame but knowing I was just going to get frostbite again.
Dear diary, today I die. I will finally know what it is. Victory in failure.
Sylvia Blanc (15) D7F
I am invincible. I knew that thought wasn't true, but it held a fraction of truth: I was a powerhouse. I had an advantage in reach and heat that many tributes didn't, and I was willing to take risks. Worst case scenario, I died again, and I didn't mind that thought. Death would bring me back to Sylvia, and without her, there was little reason to live. I didn't feel like I was alive at all.
Once the hovercraft took the body away, I went to the string that was tied to my door. I followed it. It had to lead somewhere, and I was going to find out where. It had led the Careers to me; hopefully it would lead me to the Careers. If it did, there would be pain, and I knew it wouldn't be mine. Even if it was, I was going to take someone out with me. I was going to avenge myself and my one true love, no matter the cost. Part of me wanted to win, but more of me wanted to take out the rest of Havanna's allies.
The string tightened and loosened as I walked, proving to me that someone was holding it. I kept following it, pleased that there was such high visibility now that the blizzard was over. I could actually see in front of myself. I could actually hear things that were going around me. I still fell into knee-deep snow with every step, but it was better than it had been, and I was grateful for what I could get.
Following the string led me to a barn. I had a thought that the Careers were on a hunt, but they wouldn't find anyone there. The girl who had been in there was in the machine shed with me, hiding from both them and the cold. I had let her live there because it was better for her to win than the Careers. The Careers didn't know that, and they would never suspect they were being hunted. I went inside the barn, dropping the string entirely. I didn't want to warn the Careers about my position.
Bursting into the barn, holding my flamethrower high, I looked for a target. It took a while to find one, and when I did, I realized my victory. There was a hayloft above me, and both Careers were standing in it. I smiled at them and lit my flamethrower, igniting the hay. They noticed me and smiled right back, showing me their spears before throwing them at me.
Havanna Gomez (18) D1F
I had known all along that it wasn't the Ten girl that was coming into the barn. She wouldn't know about the string, and no outer-District kid would follow a string. Swift and I had seen it vibrating for a while and toyed with it, hoping to lead whoever was following it to us. It would give us a kill, regardless of who that kill was, and hopefully get us some sponsor gifts. Swift had already received a coat, but we wanted more. We wanted a monster truck, not a Catsparov.
"It's Seven," Swift whispered, scared. I looked over at him for him to continue. "She's going to use the flamethrower. She totally knows what's going on. We should get out of here." He was losing his nerve. I couldn't have that.
"This is a hayloft. You throw hay out of here. Trust me, we're fine," I whispered back, crouching down in the hay. It was itchy, but that was fine. It was worth it. The Seven girl noticed us despite that, and she grinned at us. You bitch. She had some nerve, grinning at the Careers like she had won the Games and wasn't in life-threatening danger. I stood up and grinned back.
When the hay around us burst into flames, I almost faltered, but I stopped myself. "Pick up your spear. We're killing her," I said to Swift. "Smile." Sponsors liked confident Careers, and I liked sponsors. Swift followed my lead, throwing his spear directly at the girl while I threw mine. I wasn't sure who the kill would be attributed to, but it would be a kill.
Then I ran. I ran to the window I had noticed a long time ago, jumping out and landing on the pile of hay and snow I had noticed a while ago. The hay alone would have broken our fall enough, but the extra snow completed the job, cushioning us lightly. We were fine, despite Swift's fears. A bit snowy and itchy, but totally alive and healthy. I just had to pull myself out of the snow.
My foot got stuck, and I almost lost my temper. I pulled and pulled, but the snow around it wouldn't budge. I tried to just slip the shoe out the way it came in, but it wasn't happening. I was going to have to accept the worst-case scenario, which Gomez girls didn't do. We didn't give up, we didn't stop fighting, but I was going to have to.
"Just pull your foot out." Swift said the words I had been thinking. I could pull my foot out, walk away from the now-burning barn. And lose my shoe. I did it after a piece of ember fell on my head. I pulled my dang foot out of my dang shoe, swearing the whole time. We had killed a girl, but I got caught in the snow. This will not look good.
8th Place: Rialta Vernell - Flame and Frostbite
Impressive, I know? I considered this for a while, but how awesome would it be if someone died by both? Rialta just couldn't feel the heat until it was too late. The damage had been done and intensified. Rialta was super cool, and her obsession with death was something new, but I couldn't see her winning. She didn't look like a real Victor to me, or a real mentor, so I couldn't let her win. In the final eight, people are getting weeded out (and she happened to need a POV). Thank you to Winter's Writing for Rialta, who was definitely something new.
7th Place: Sylvia (?) Blanc - Stabbed by Swift and Havanna
Sylvia was something, that's for sure. She was supposed to be characterless and worthless, get depressed, and maybe kill herself. She was supposed to kamikaze herself, but she didn't. She just went totally insane. She was tons of fun to write and develop, and she has to be one of my most developed tributes. Thank you to AmericanPi for Sylvia, who is something I never got before and will never get again.
FINAL SIX!
