A Vivid Note: I'm becoming a little nervous because of how close we are to the climax. I'm so fond of each of these characters, but I'm tasked with slowly cutting my way through each of them.
Thank you for your continuous help and support. I'm still stunned at the enormous response I've received for this series and it's been a delight to write. I'm very glad to be able to share this with you. Expect yet another effusive thank you when I have finished.
This chapter was written in a bit of a hurry towards the end, so be sure to point out any of the more glaring errors I've made. It would be a big help.
Also, slight language warning (yes, the F-Bomb will be dropped for the first time since chapter 39) and I have made it purposefully ambiguous as to which tribute dies this chapter. Think of it as a little surprise- a fun guessing game to play. And yes, I will be pull this sort of shit more than once.
Capitol Question #28; what kind of weather do you like and dislike the most?
Special Event #003; which seven tributes of the original twenty-four do you feel match with which of the seven deadly sins? (Pride, Greed, Envy, Wrath, Lust, Gluttony and Sloth)
(Example: Pride: tribute A, Greed: tribute B, Envy: tribute C, Wrath: tribute D, Lust: tribute E, Gluttony: tribute F and Sloth: tribute G- match up the sins with the tribute who most suits it.)
Kiss-Kiss,
Vivid.
The Capitol Games
Ferroh Axum; 17 years; the Capitol Sector 7.
The wind is howling in my ears as Faye and I sprint and slip through the liquid mud sloshing all over our boots. With one hand clamped tight around Faye's and the other shielding my eyes from the fierce downpour, I squint through the storm in the hopes of finding some shelter from the ferocious wind and rain.
'This storm came out of nowhere,' I think with gritted teeth. 'I guess things weren't exciting enough.'
We were expecting something like this to happen eventually and when that cannon went off yesterday the count finally dropped to fifteen, making it the perfect time to kick the game difficulty up a notch. Things have been pretty easy for us so far, aside from that close call yesterday that has left my jaw bruised, but I doubt we'll be able to relax like that anymore. From here on Faye and I are going to have to work much harder.
That's why it was a relief for a canteen of water to float down into our midst as we stopped for a breather yesterday. Neither of us had slept after our encounter with the tributes from Sector 4 and we were starting to wear a little thin when the reasonably sized bottle came drifting down by its little silver parachute.
"Ah!" Faye-Anna's eyes bulged from their sockets. "W-We got something! We got something!"
Both of us had forgotten what it was like to see a sponsor gift descend from the sky. It's such a relief and a joy that it makes you forget questioning how it makes it past the thick roof of intersecting tree branches high above.
I let Faye-Anna hold onto the water canteen. We both drank from it, trying our best not to chug it down all at once, before replacing the cap and forging onwards feeling refreshed. It was just then when the rain starting coming down to dampen our spirits.
It came down in sheets, pounding and slamming against the earth. Not even a drizzle to warn us. We were caught off guard. Before too long we began running across the quickly softening ground in a desperate search for somewhere to escape the storm.
Foot slipping out from under her, Faye abruptly tugs me back as she falls backwards into the mud. Within a second I pull her back onto her feet and squeeze her hand tightly.
"We're going to get through this!" I shout over the shrieking winds. "Just don't let go of my hand, okay?"
Faye nods, and through the biting cold I feel her gently squeeze back. She probably couldn't even hear me. I smile as we push on further. We're bound to find something soon. A cave or another ice cavern, there'll be somewhere we can spend the day. This hurricane of a storm looks like it isn't going to tide over anytime soon. It will probably go on all day.
I try as hard as I can to be thankful; to appreciate that this is all that they're doing to us today. Rain is easy to endure, mutated animals aren't. And while the rain may have already soaked through my jacket and made the thin cotton shirt stick to my skin, it sure as hell beats dying.
This is what I tell myself anyway. Every now and again I find myself questioning if living through this is really going to be worth it.
"Don't lose yourself, Ferroh."
Ashen's words drift into my mind, causing a rush of guilt to surface again. This is what she meant by those vague words, isn't it? Not to forget my drive to live in the midst of all the panic. At least, I think that's what she meant. To be honest it's hard to really understand. It was so long ago, now that I think about it. I was reaped almost two weeks ago…
That sunny day seems so distant now. I barely remember it. There was Galaxy, sobbing and wailing up there on stage, and our escort Peach was reaching into the reaping ball- and the crowd of people standing around me as I pulled that boy back and volunteered. If I hadn't volunteered, what would have happened? Her brother looked like he was going to. Or maybe he would have lost his nerve and someone completely new was going to be reaped. There is a chance that a stranger would be in my shoes right now, stumbling through the pounding rain.
Or, maybe that stranger would have already died by now. And Faye-Anna as well.
The thought of this thin little child dying causes a strange surge of anguish to fill my stomach. After spending a week with Faye the thought of losing her is terrifying. She isn't exactly reliable, but she's dependable enough to keep me from feeling more scared than I already am. If she were to suddenly die…
Without meaning for it to happen, my mind paints a picture. Blood clotting in the corners of her thin, pale lips. Eyes, bulged and reddened, roll backwards into her skull. A pair of unknown hands tightens around her fragile little throat and begins to choke her, their thumbs pushing hard into her windpipe-
"F-Ferroh-!"
Faye has somehow surpassed me and tugs frantically at her hand trapped inside mine. I guess my mental imagery made me stop moving without realising. Through the darkness and the rain I see her dark blue eyes stare frantically back at me, wondering why we've stopped moving. The mental picture of her cold little body, strangled of all life hasn't fully faded from view yet. I can't help but stare at her with this feeling of dread rippling throughout my veins. Just how easy would it be for her to die and for this choking feeling in my gut to become permanent?
"Ferroh…? The young girl's face flickers with concern. "…Ferroh, is something wrong…?"
Feeling sickened, my hand twinges a little as I release my grip on her hand. I keep forgetting that she's so fragile. Or perhaps I'm just underestimating my own strength.
"It's-"
A monstrous clash of thunder silences me. Faye-Anna lets out a shriek and flings her hands over her head, visibly shaking in terror. I squint a little into the darkness ahead and feel a noticeable change in the wind. This storm is getting fiercer… and too dangerous to walk about in. As I pause to listen through the screaming winds and the pounding rain, I smell something I hadn't noticed before.
"…smoke?"
My hushed voice disappears under the blare of the storm, but Faye too seems to notice the odd smell as well; perking up like a startled rabbit. We catch each other's eye and just stare at one another for a few moments before a loud crackling noise suddenly comes from above, followed by the familiar sound of something falling.
As if in slow motion, I look up to see the glowing embers of the burning giant setting sail into the storm. As lightning flashes again I can see that the bolt that struck has ripped almost halfway down the hundred foot tree- only stopping about forty feet above us- and the entire thing is starting to split in half.
We've got to get moving. My hand shoots out and grabs Faye-Anna's hand, which she had thrown out to grab my own, and just as we begin to run forwards there's an enormous crack, and an incredible burst of white light. Suddenly I'm thrown backwards with such force that I slam painfully against the burning tree and Faye-Anna is sent rolling into the mud. I choke as all the air in my lungs comes whooshing out from the impact.
I can't breathe. My ears are ringing as if someone has smashed a pair of cymbals over my head. What's going on? What the hell was-?
Faye is flailing frantically about on the ground. I press myself harder against the tree as I watch her rolling about in pain. Her forehead is bleeding. She hit something when she hit the ground, a root or something. Her mouth is open and she's screaming, but my ears are ringing so bad that I can't hear the storm raging all around us, let alone her shrieks.
"FAYE!" I shout, but I can't hear the words leave my mouth. "FAYE-!"
More blinding light and another wave of this unknown force slams me hard against the burning tree again. I can suddenly smell fire all around. The blaze has lit up the forest. Faye continues to roll about on the floor like a wounded animal, covering herself in blood and muck, and I don't budge from where I stand. What's going on? I look up at the sky, panicked. What the hell is this-? Is this one of the Gamemaker's tricks? Is this-?
It doesn't make any sense to me as the entire world begins to quake around me. I stumble forwards, and as I look down at the crying Faye, about to reach forwards for her, I feel my entire body seize and the dagger sears hot against my leg.
And the whole world turns a burning white.
Brandit Gailer; 16 years; the Capitol Sector 6.
This is the worst! The winds are so strong that it's impossible to see two feet in front of me, and the ground is so slick with mud that these stupid boots can't get any traction. It's like walking on ice. It doesn't help that Natalia is shouting something over the howl of the wind and I can't hear a damn word that she's saying.
We should've known this would happen if we left the cornucopia. Of course the game makers would chose now of all times to hit us with this otherworldly storm! They're nice and snug watching us struggle not to fall down in the mud and drown in this torrential rain of theirs. Bastards. Bastards!
"—Brandit—!
Lightning flashes and illuminates Natalia's startled features. It takes a second or two before the thunder booms, sounding much too like the death cannon for my taste. I remember when we learned about the speed of sound that for every second after the lightning passes, the lightning is almost a quarter of a mile away. I can't remember the exact numbers. Right now though, it feels like the lightning is right behind us, chasing us through the forest of the giant trees.
Knowing how the Gamemakers like to operate, it damn well could be chasing us.
Another flicker of lightning lights up the ground, and I barely have time to stop Natalia as she almost topples over into a tree root. "Natalia, watch it!"
I barely catch the curse word she hisses when her boot clips hard against the elevated root as I pull her back a step. Even with our night-vision glasses on it's almost impossible to manoeuvre through the weaving forest due to the ferocity of this storm.
We should turn back. Head back to the cornucopia and wait this out. It's obviously a Gamemaker's trap, luring the foolhardier tributes into danger while they can't see where they're going. And because of Natalia's insistence to keep moving, we're playing right into it.
Yeah, I get that these this is a Hunger Game and that we're supposed to kill tributes to go home. That much I can accept, because those same tributes are going to do all they can to have us killed. Being a pacifist won't get anyone anywhere except six feet under. But that doesn't mean we should make it easy for them by falling for cheap ploys to weed out the stupider competitors.
And yet, Natalia insists we keep moving. I knew she was determined, but this is getting to a point where it's just stubborn. We need to head back and rethink this. We aren't even tracking anyone; we're just wandering aimlessly about!
"Natalia!" I call out desperately over the gale. "NATALIA!"
She doesn't hear me. Her hair is whipping about her face which has an expression I can only describe as disgust. That look makes me hesitate in asking her to turn back. It really looks as if there is nothing I could say or do to change this girl's mind in her decision to blindly chase after the ones who crossed her.
I told her how I let Vinel go of my own accord, and I half-expected her to physically attack me for allowing him to leave without a fight. It was a surprise when she simply shrugged.
"I suppose it's better that way," she had said with a sigh. "At least this way he'll lead us to his beloved sector partner."
That was it. No screaming, no cursing, no stamping of feet. I was almost disappointed. I have a feeling Natalia would throw a cute tantrum. It was at that point I began thinking that I might be a masochist, and I volunteered for the games and partnered up with Natalia not to better myself, but because I found some sort of pleasure in being abused.
Heh, I wonder what she would say if I told her those thoughts. Maybe she'd indulge me by slapping me hard across the face. Although, the thought of that isn't really that appealing, so perhaps I'm not as masochistic as I thought. I'm certainly not enjoying this rain anyway.
More lightning crackles and spits in the sky, lighting the clouds up like fireworks. The rain continues to pound down upon us like the fists of the storm. I continue to stumble along after Natalia, deciding that she couldn't hear me even if I could talk any sense into her, when suddenly I smack right into the girl who has taken an abrupt stop. I stagger back a little, about to ask her what the matter is, when I feel the unexpected sensation of lone raindrops trickling down my neck and not the constant stream of rainwater.
We've stumbled under a rock crag. It's shielding us from the rain and wind of the storm. Now that I've noticed this, I can even hear things a little better now that we're out of the din.
"What a relief," I say as I sweep the soaking hair off my forehead. "I thought I was drowning."
Behind her night-vision goggles I see her eyes narrow. "This is pointless. We're never going to find anyone in this storm. Everyone else' has probably had the common sense to take cover by now."
I just love the way she puts emphasis on 'everyone else', like it was my choice to set off in the first place. Maybe I'll get to see one of those adorable tantrums sooner than I expected.
"Well, we've taken cover." I gesture at the rock formation that is jutting out of the ground and over our heads. "So, will we stay here until the storm lets up and then head back?"
Natalia is in the midst of pulling off her goggles when she hears this and looks at me sternly.
"Head back? Why would we head back after coming all this way?" Her eyes stare blankly at me. "We haven't finished what we set out to do yet."
It takes a lot of self-control not to groan openly at her.
"No, we haven't, but this just isn't tactical," I explain wearily, pulling off my own goggles. "I don't know how to track people, and I'm going to take a blind stab in the dark and say that you don't have a clue how either."
She's cussing me out in her head right now, I bet.
"The cornucopia is the central point of the entire arena. Everyone will head back there eventually. That's where feasts are held, after all. So it's just logical that we remain in that area so when the tributes start returning we have the… the home-field advantage," I finish, grinning weakly. "What's there to gain stumbling about in the rain except hypothermia?"
All I want right now is to see that stubborn expression fade into the usual passive stare as Natalia agrees to go back with me. While everything I said was true, I'm not letting her on about the things that are bothering me the most- the fear that we actually will run into one of her targets. The worry that follows that we just aren't strong enough to take on her sector partner and his allies. The constant, crippling terror that just one false move will kill us both.
But I won't tell her that. I don't want to destroy the honourable image I've built up in front of this girl. The picture of a man who can protect her, no matter what hell is thrown our way. So I'll hide behind these excuses and call them 'common-sense' so as not to trouble her.
And as her face falls, I feel my heart swell with hope as she pushes her hand through her sopping wet hair.
"…yeah… yeah… you're right…" Her voice is just a tired mumble. "It isn't… sensible… to be wandering around… stupid…"
As I watch her, I feel that happy feeling in my chest plummet into despair as her lip trembles and her eyes threaten to cry.
"N-Natalia?" I reach out and take hold of her, panicked. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say you were being stupid or anything, I just- uh- please don't cry-"
"I'm not crying," she mumbles sourly. "It's just the rain... I'd never cry over an idiot like you."
Such blatant lies. I do my best not to smile. She's cute when she tries to be so tough when it's obvious she's not normally such a cold person.
"Of course you aren't crying," I laugh, retracting my arm from her shoulder. "Forgive me for being so stupid."
She opens her mouth to respond- no doubt with an incredibly witty and biting retort- but her eyes widen in shock and she moves to pass me. I step aside in surprise and turn to see what could have caught her attention- when I see her grabbing something out of the air and ripping away a tiny silver parachute.
-it's a sponsor item!
I clamber close to her as she kneels to the ground and unwraps her gift, a little thankful for our cramped shelter. I watch as her shaking hands rip off the thin paper that wraps it, and unveils a small, blue coloured dagger. I feel a little confused- why would they send a weapon, something we have plenty of- but when Natalia holds it aloft and pulls on her goggles, I hear her breathing grow shallow as her fingers run over an engraving along the blade.
Watching, it all begins to make sense. This isn't just a regular sponsor item. This is a gift. A gift from someone very precious to her.
Only the rain and our silence surround us as Natalia sits and stares at her little blue dagger.
"…I think… I think it's from my brother..."
Quietly, I reach out and touch her hand. It's quivering as it continues to finger the marks I can't quite make out.
"…what does it say?" I murmur.
Natalia just stares at the delicately crafted weapon.
"Love," Her voice is no higher than a whisper. "It just says love."
Love. Of all things to send a person in an arena filled with murder. Of all things to send to a girl who has been fuelled by her hatred of the other tributes, her brother sends her a dagger called 'love'.
We sit there, staring at the dagger named 'love' until we just can't keep our eyes open anymore.
Ari Saint-Claire; 16 years; the Capitol Sector 5.
Compared to today's never-ending squall, yesterday seems otherworldly in terms of tranquillity. I find myself daydreaming about the pleasantness of the sun's warmth and how nice it felt to be dry as we struggle to keep moving blindly through this intense rain and the thick mud swelling over our boots.
Laco's hand squeezes mine, his fingers interlocked with my own. In the dark caused by the black clouds blocking out the sun it's impossible to see him, but with his hand holding my own I can at least be sure that he's there. It's a small comfort in this hell of freezing rain and wind that stings my skin.
I knew that the Gamemakers wouldn't let us rest for long. I had wasted all of yesterday's peace fretting about how they were going to strike. A horrible creature? An ambush of other tributes? It's sort of a relief that they just chose to sic this torrential weather on us. As soon as we find some shelter we'll be fine.
If we find shelter I suppose I should be saying, but at the moment I'm filled with a wonderful sense of optimism. After all, yesterday we received more gifts then I had ever previously anticipated.
We were exhausted, Laco being emotionally so and me… well, I've never really been at the stage where I was thirsting for my own saliva before. As hard as I tried to keep pushing myself onwards, it became too hard just to drag my feet another step. It wasn't long before we came to a halt and I just shrank down to the ground and begged Laco to let me sleep.
But just as I closed my eyes, Laco began shaking me awake. He was babbling about more 'gifts', and before I even knew what he was saying- he had thrust the canister of water- still with its parachute attached-to my mouth and was urging me to drink.
I almost made myself sick from guzzling too much of it down so quickly. Laco only had a mouthful before putting the cap back, and just as we were going to sit and celebrate our good fortune, more began to fall.
Our good fortune was unbelievable. We received not only the water, but a bottle of vitamin supplements, a metal thermos with a clip filled with a really thick liquid drink that smells of peanut butter, and a handful of protein bars. They all came drifting down out of the forest ceiling one by one, like gifts from heaven. By the time night fell and we watched the face of the Sector 4 boy in the sky our stomachs were full and I was beginning to feel better for the first time since before the arena.
That's why yesterday was so nice, compared to now. We spent it sharing sips from the thermos- the thick concoction turned out to be some sort of smoothie- and eating two of the protein bars. For a moment I completely forgot where we were. It was almost like a picnic.
Of course, I remembered our reality all too soon, and the disappointment was intense. Every now and then I find myself wishing that there was a loophole that would let us both win if we survive to the end.
I probably wouldn't have been so desperate if I had known it would have rained this much today. It was sort of a pain to wake up to the rain pounding down on us like that. We quickly scooped up our new things- Laco took it upon himself to carry the thermos and the canteen by attaching it to his belt with its clip, and folded the soaking sleeping bag up and zipped it up under his jacket- and I continued to carry the bow and arrows and the three remaining protein bars and the vitamins.
Both of us have been blessed by the sponsors in all this. I guess it's only natural, given that I had a fan base before any of this. Part of me wonders how many people are on the other side of the spectrum, wishing me dead because they hated me as a singer. Perhaps these gifts aren't for me after all, and they're all for Laco.
Thinking this doesn't make me feel sad, but rather relieved. I do hope they like him. He's been so good through this nightmare, and I feel like that should be rewarded for his kindness. He deserves these gifts more than I do.
As I muse this, I give his hand a gentle squeeze. I'll try to reward him later, somehow.
Suddenly Laco stops. I pause, wincing as I feel a fierce gush of wind chill my soaking wet skin, and wait to see what the problem is. But my eyes slowly begin to see through the haze of the wind and rain to what Laco fixated on, and I too feel my eyes widen in surprise.
It's the golden lake. We've somehow made our way back without meaning to. The waters are being fiercely thrown about in the gusts of wind, and it's hard to recognise this raging body of water from the serene pool it used to be. It's almost as if it's an entirely new place.
Regardless, it's still useless. There's no real shelter to be found here and it's not even a usable water source. We should turn around and find somewhere else to wait out the storm.
Yet, as I tug on Laco's arm, he doesn't move. Suddenly he grips me by the arm and pushes me behind him. Instinctively I flatten myself against him, feeling his warmth emanating through his sodden wet clothes, and I hear him murmur-
"Get ready to run."
Eh? I try to peer past his ear to see what it could possibly be, but I can't see anything out there except the lake thrashing about in the storm. What has Laco seen to have made him-?
I barely see the girl throw her arm back as she releases the string before Laco throws both of us to the dirt.
Laco Sykora; 17 years; the Capitol Sector 5.
No. Not now. Not here. We aren't ready for a fight in this weather. I scramble upright and snap my attention to the frightening looking girl as she grabs another arrow from her quiver and goes to shoot again. There's barely any time to dodge. I grab Ari's arm and yank her upright, feeling a surge of guilt as she cries out in pain. I must have pulled too hard. But there's no time to fret over things like that.
My face feels like it's turned to stone. This girl has attacked us. She has the intention of killing us. Of killing Ari. Right now, she has absolutely no qualms about murdering us.
That means she shouldn't have a problem with me retaliating in kind.
In murdering her.
Throwing Ari against the nearest tree and praying that she knows to stay out of the way, I dive to the side as the girl's next arrow flies into the darkness where we just stood. A clash of lightning cheers her efforts and I recognise her as the girl from Sector 4. The engaged one. Yeah, yeah it's her- there's the ring on her finger. She's screaming something through the howling wind, but I can't hear anything.
I have no weapons. The bow is with Ari and our slingshot is laughably weak. My only choice is to smash her face in the old fashioned way. With my fists.
Sector 4 girl strings another arrow, but the wind is so strong that it's clear she can't shoot on target. I'm struggling through the mud towards her but it's so thick that if I try to move faster than a walk my legs threaten to slip out from under me. She's not fixed on me, but rather on where Ari and I had been standing, but as I begin to near her she jumps backwards into the shallows of the lake and shrieks before throwing her hands over her head. I think that she's finally noticed me until I see the silver fly through the air and disappear into the water.
Ari has opened fire. My attention whips back to her and I can see her, swinging her arm back and pulling another arrow from the quiver. More lightning shows that she too is shouting something inaudible. I'm in awe for a moment- surprised to finally see her in a fighting stance- but then I feel something hard smack into the side of my head and I'm brought reeling back, spinning around to see that the girl has indeed noticed me.
Up close she looks horrifying. Her face is sallow, bruised and worn. This isn't her first fight. There's dirt and grime from trying to survive in this arena, somehow unaffected by the rain that's streaming down on us. Her eyes are absolutely crazed as she abandons the idea of shooting arrows in the gale and instead resorts to holding her bow like some sort of club. I throw my arms up just in time to bear the brunt of another attack, but the force of it sends me splashing down into the water. This girl is strong. It's going to take more than one well-placed punch to bring this bitch down.
As much as I want to lose control and scream and howl at our attacker, I don't want to get any of this water in my mouth. There's no telling if it's poisoned or not, but there's no sign of it burning my skin, so it's safe for the moment. I throw my shoulder into her leg before she has the chance to swing down at me again. The force causes her leg to jerk about in surprise and she drops the bow into the water. She fumbles blindly for it for a second before giving up and smacking her hand against my face, clawing her nails into my hair.
"BASTARD-! BASTARD-!"
I feel her rip out a fistful of hair and it stings like nothing else. I leap forwards and head-butt her, causing her to fall backwards into the water. She's submerged for a second but comes up gasping for air seconds later. I anticipate her to hit me again- waiting for her to get near so I can slam my fist into her nose- but she doesn't go to hit me. Instead she leaps forwards and- with all the force she can muster- shoves my head under the water.
The shock causes me to expel all my air before my head even hits the dirt bottom. It's shallow and I can feel my hands breaking the surface, but my head isn't coming up. Her knee pushes itself between my legs.
FUCK.
Pain surges throughout my lower abdomen and I intake automatically, the golden water flooding my lungs. I try to grab for the area- to push her the hell away- but my mind is burning with the agony and I want to curl up until the throbbing subsides. Her hands are shaking as they continue to hold me steadily underwater, but no matter how hard I hit she doesn't move. She pushes her knee even further into my balls and I choke back even more water.
This is… how it's going to end…?
My strength is disappearing fast. I need air. I need to throw up this water. The pain has become too intense to stand. My hand sinks through the water and I feel something cold and hard touch my fingers.
A stick?
Just as I wrap my fingers around it, her hands release me and I burst out of the water heaving. I catch a glimpse of Ari, and I'm momentarily stunned as I see her push the arrowhead into the girl's arm with her own hand. They're both shouting and screaming so loudly that they're even drowning out the storm. It isn't until the thunder roars again that I regain my senses and push myself forwards through the pain-
"DIE-!"
With one arm I push Ari aside and out of her reach, and with the other I bring the stick swinging towards our attacker. Only it isn't until her screams elevate into a high-pitched shriek that I realise that this isn't a stick at all.
It's a sword.
And I've just cut off this girl's left forearm.
The effect is horrifying. More blood than what came out of me comes surging out of the stump and there are stray strands of fleshy matter- stringy bits of veins- that are still wrapped around the dirty sword's blade. The girl's eyes and mouth are wide open in a mix of horror and intense agony, and the handless stump flails about frantically as if she's trying to discern whether it's real or not. It is real. Her forearm and her hand have disappeared into the thrashing golden waves of the lake and her entire body begins to convulse.
"GOD! GOD-!"
I grip the sword hard and stagger back out of her range, but the girl isn't attacking me. Throwing her arm into the water she begins to search frantically for her limb, her face visibly twisting and gaping in pain as her bloodied limb also thrashes blindly for its hand.
"MY RING! MY RING-!"
For a second I'm swayed- almost pitying this girl for being so deranged that she is more distressed to lose her engagement ring than her own arm- but I prepare to swing again. This time I'll finish it. I'll cut off her head. I'll-
"LACO!"
Suddenly I'm tugged backwards, and as I stumble out of the water I see Ari screaming in panic. I stare wildly back at the girl in the water, still thrashing about looking for her lost ring, and I have no idea why Ari stopped me from killing her. The sword is still clasped tightly in my hand, the girl's blood still seeping down its surface along with the rainwater.
"RUN! LACO! RUN- WE HAVE TO RUN-!"
But as we stumble towards the safety of the forest line I finally see what Ari was screaming about, and I almost drop the sword in shock as I watch the insane girl from Sector 4 slowly cease her search to look up in terror. Her mouth opens into a scream no one will ever hear as it sinks its giant fanged maw over her upper body and rips it clean from her legs.
The lake is home to a giant golden sea-serpent. A legless dragon with eyes as big windows. I watch in alarm as the beast swallows her down whole, its humongous feathered-tail whipping about gleefully in its golden home's waters.
My legs give out beneath me.
Diego "D"; 18 years; the Capitol Sector 8.
Outside of our cave the storm continues to roar and howl. The wind whistles down the entrance and sends a slight chill into the pitch black cavern's depths, but is otherwise unable to reach our group of six.
"It's really coming down out there," Montserrat's murmurs inside the darkness to my left.
Marshall grunts in agreement. "Seems worse than the last one."
When it rained on the second day, a full week ago, it was light and easy to escape by sheltering in the roots of the arena's trees. This rain is far more vicious; pounding and sweeping away at the earth as the wind screeches and claws through the arena.
The moment it started to really come down the six of us retreated into our ice cave. The winds drove us to hide deeper inside the cavern, and while we may be cold- we are at least safe and dry from the ferocious weather raging outside.
I reach out and feel around for Koriana, breathing a sigh of relief when my fingers find her hair. Montserrat insisted I lay her body down rather than force it to remain upright as I have the past few days. His words saddened me. In my desperation to keep her safe, I had forgotten about her safety. Surely it would not be wise to keep a comatose girl in a seated position when she should be lying down.
I relinquished. With the help of Francesca's flashlight, my 'brothers' and I made up a bed for Koriana out of blankets and a sleeping bag. Before the flashlight was switched off to preserve energy I took the liberty to brush a few strands of hair out of her eyes.
"…sleep well, Koriana."
And when the light was off and the security of the dark enshrouded us, I kissed her softly upon her forehead.
Wake up soon, Koriana.
"I always liked the rain," Holland says suddenly, sounding thoughtful. "Being all wrapped up and warm inside… I always thought it sounded peaceful. Especially at night."
Somewhere in the dark, Francesca screws up her face. "Oh, I hated rain! All it ever did was ruin my weekends and make hours of getting ready a complete waste."
"It's called a weather forecast," Marshall snickers. "It's what you're supposed check before you make plans. I always liked the rain. It meant I didn't have to do any stupid yard work."
It is hard to imagine Marshall doing yard work, tending to flowerbeds or pulling out weeds. I smile slightly as I can imagine the boy feeling right at home on the top of a large ride-on lawn mower.
"I didn't mind rain," says Montserrat quietly. "But my sister hated it. Especially thunderstorms, she'd insist on sleeping on my bedroom floor. I guess because of that I grew to dislike rain and thunderstorms."
"Eresenda?" Marshall asks, a suspicious tone flavouring his voice.
"Surprisingly, no. Dolca." Montserrat laughs. "Eresenda and Elisenda would pull on their rain coats and go run about in the rain. They loved it."
There is silence for a moment, and as my eyes adjust to the light levels I can see several pairs of eyes trained on me. Only then do I realise that it is now my turn to share my opinion on the subject.
"…I suppose I do not like rain," I come out with after a short pause, a little confused. "…my house was not very well constructed and… the rain would leak onto my bed. Electrical storms would turn off the power. It was always frustrating."
Francesca lets out a little noise of confusion. "…your house sounds sort of… bad, Diego."
"He lived on the outskirts," Montserrat interjects suddenly. I feel a hand on my shoulder. "You know how it is there."
Her silence confirms that she does. It is surprising how others react to the position of my home barely within the Capitol's borders. Being a citizen in the outskirts is about as close as one can be to being a citizen of a District. You are poor, dirty and sub-quality. It is a rare thing for children to live in the outskirts. I have heard many times they are planning to 'relocate' residents there somewhere else and will then proceed to demolish the slum.
It never happens. The outskirts are there for the Capitol citizens who are unwanted but have not done anything that would warrant execution or avoxing.
A place to keep people out of the way. Out of sight, out of mind.
Someone starts to speak but suddenly falls silent. Then, in a quiet voice filled with shame, Montserrat mutters-
"…I was about to suggest you come live with me, if your house is so crummy..."
Even though he's embarrassed for offering something that I could never take him up on, Marshall lets out a shout, "Oi, even if it's just hypothetical- I want to live with you too man! Why don't you offer me a room?"
A little feminine giggle escapes Francesca, and Montserrat lets out a little huff of amusement.
"Alright, fine," he chuckles. "You can come live with us too. In my hypothetical house."
"And we'll visit on weekends," Francesca pipes up, nudging Holland in the side. "Because we'll throw extravagant dinner parties that Holland will ruin by vomiting up his wine."
"H-Hey, that's-!" Holland stammers frantically.
The cavern is filled with the sound of laughter. Montserrat animatedly describes the decorum of our 'hypothetical' house- complete with mailbox with the monogram 'Casa de Marsh-iego-rat'- while Francesca squeals with delight over the idea of buying the three of us matching aprons. Even Holland begins to laugh quietly as Marshall bursts into tears of laughter while elaborately describing how he would steal his family's furniture in order to furnish our 'Casa'.
But, as the laughter begins to fade, all we are left with is a deep melancholy. We are dreaming of a future we can never share, and a home filled with fun and laughter that can never exist. The five of us sit and stare into the dark as the rain continues to wail and cry outside.
"…guys…?"
Montserrat's quiet voice penetrates the silence. I close my eyes as I hear him move slightly on the icy floor.
"…if… if one of you wins… I'm not going to ask you to use your winnings or anything, but… can I ask a favour…?"
Not a person speaks, and Montserrat takes a deep, shaking breath.
"…please… please take care of my family… just… just be there for them. If I die… they're… they're probably going to need it..."
His voice withers, and Francesca lets out a hushed whisper-
"Yes. And if… if one of you guys win and… and I… don't… will you do the same for mine?" There is a quiet sniffle, and then she continues. "My sisters are going to blame themselves otherwise and… I really… really don't want that."
Marshall is quiet for a moment. "…just punch my Dad in the face for me… punch him real hard… make sure he doesn't hurt my mom or my brother and sister when I'm gone."
The sadness hangs thick in the air. I am unsure what to say. My plan to use the end of these games suddenly feels wrong in this circle of friends. Should I be the victor, I plan to end these games with my life. No victor means failure, and a rebellion. A chance at a better future.
…but no guarantee for my friends' families. They could very well die in my rebellion.
My hand snakes its way over Koriana's.
"...Diego?"
Montserrat is awaiting my request. I do not have one ready. I have no family to protect, no friends to console. Not even a real home. All I have is what I am, and should I lose that will be all that is left of me.
With a dry mouth, my tongue begins to form the words. "…should I die… and one of you win…"
The storm outside howls against the cave, and my hand shakes as I squeeze Koriana's a little tighter than I have done before.
For the first time, an immeasurable sadness overwhelms me. That, as happy as I am to have met these people, to finally learn what it feels like to have a family, I regret that they are here at all. Suddenly my rebellion does not seem as important as the lives of those who sit beside me.
Koriana's hand burns inside of mine.
"…should you win…"
All I want now, in this moment, is to never be alone again.
Montserrat… Marshall…
The words choke themselves out.
"Please do not forget me."
Cotton Ferier; 15 years; the Capitol Sector 11.
It hurts. Whether I walk or stay still my leg jolts and stings and throbs with pain. For hours I just laid there in the dirt of the forest floor with tears in my eyes because I honestly believed that I was going to die there, just as that little monster had said I would. I passed out for a few hours. By the time I woke up my calf had become numb from the aching and, when I finally had the nerve to look at it the blood had somehow congealed over into the nastiest looking scab I had ever seen, with a muddy patch where a good deal of blood had leaked over the forest floor.
But it didn't matter. I was alive. I am alive. That's all that matters. As long as I can move- even if I have to crawl- I'll find a way to kill that bastard. Both Vince and Vinel will pay.
I don't care if I have to cut this damn thing off just to go after them- if that's the price for revenge, so be it. It's just a leg. Take my arm as well. Take the fingers of my left hand, my right eye and all of my teeth. I'll beat them to bloodied pulps with whatever the hell I have left.
This wound is nothing. It may hurt, but it doesn't hurt enough to stop me from finishing what I've set out to do. I've watched games where victors have slaughtered others after being run through the stomach with a sword or entire limbs burned off. This much is nothing. It can all be replaced when I'm crowned the victor.
The rain has subsided a little, but only slightly. It still drips and trickles down my face and makes my hair stick to the sides of my face. I want to throw away this sodden wet jacket that no longer provides any warmth, because all it does now is weigh me down. Instead I wrap it around my leg and continue hobbling along through the slush and mud, wondering if wrapping up the wound did anything other than make me more aware of the injury.
'Screw it. I don't care anyway.'
I feel like I'm walking in circles. The sun never rose today- the clouds no doubt blocked it out entirely- and everything looks the same no matter which way I turn; giant trees, smatterings of shrubbery here and there, and a freezing rain that never ends. It's going to be a real challenge to find that bastard and his sector partner this way. Not that I have a choice, I didn't bother with the 'tracking and hunting' station back in the training centre. Vinel didn't want to do it. So I didn't either.
God damn- shit-! I wish I could go back in time and crunch my fist into my stupid, naive face. Narrowing my eyes in disdain for my past actions, I wonder how things would be if I had taken things seriously from the beginning. I would no doubt have taken a swing at Natalia, after all the grief she gave me before these games even began, even if she was telling the truth about Vinel. How dare she act so high and mighty towards me? It'll be fitting to bring her down, crashing and burning.
My leg twinges as a stray branch hits the stab wound. I almost fall. A cry of pain sounds without my meaning it to, which pisses me off even more. That damn kid. I hate him as much as Natalia for what he did, pretending to be weak to ruin my chances. His words are still fresh in my head.
"Die in the dirt like the filthy mongrel bitch that you are, Ferier!" His voice was no longer soft and childish. It was hard and cruel. "And be damn thankful for the opportunity!"
Just another thing to be angry at my past self for; falling for Vince's charade. I shouldn't have hesitated. I'd at least be satisfied if I had killed him. Proved to the viewers that I'm not to be messed with, that I'm no longer some weak little school girl pining after a boy who dumped her.
There's a rumble of thunder in the distance, but no flash of lightning. The ground has gotten even muddier than before and is so slick that I'm starting to stumble a little. I decide to pause a moment, wait for the lightning to light my way, when I hear the thunder roar again. Only this time it sounds different. As if it's closer somehow. I come to a complete stop as I listen hard; trying to discern what is strange about this thunder…
In the darkness it rumbles again, louder this time. Like a growling dog, but deeper. I feel my body go still. The ground quakes beneath its giant paws and there's a horrible snuffling and snorting sound of this something sniffing me out in the darkness.
My breathing grows shallow as I realise that this is definitely not thunder that I'm hearing. And just as I think the words, I hear its monstrous roar.
The bear that killed Jasse is back for more.
Without even thinking about it my joints unlock and I start running. There's the sound of puddles being torn through as it tears after me, and all of my previous strength and anger disappears into terror. There's nothing I can do to kill this thing, let alone stop it! I'm going to die! This thing is going to kill me! It's a fucking bear-!
Suddenly my foot slips, and I shriek as I fall to the mud. Arms flailing and legs kicking, I feel my body tip head over feet forwards and my heart beat itself to a stop as the bear's roars and lumbering bounds suddenly sound like they're far above me.
I hit the ground with a crack. I'm still screaming, and I'm vaguely aware that I've landed on my shoulder and the pain is unbelievable. Everywhere my skin touches is cold and as I thrash blindly on the ice cold ground I wonder when the bear is going to dive upon me and tear me to shreds like it did Jasse.
…but nothing happens. No teeth descend upon me and no claws rip me apart. My screams become cries of pain and slowly into pitiful moans as I curl into a ball on my side. I think I've broken my shoulder. I tearfully manage to open an eye, gripping feebly to my right shoulder as it aches with pain, and as true lightning flashes I see what has happened.
Chance has tossed me into a deep hole in the ground. A cave of sorts. The bear, if I can even call this hideous hairless creature that, stares down with bulging eyes at the crack that is too thin for it to squeeze through, but more than wide enough for someone my size to trip into. It's just staring down at me. Slobber is dripping down its jaw like a mangy dog as it sticks its nose into the crevice, pawing and snuffling for me.
Breathing heavily, I stare up at the beast and wonder if it's going to keep going. Will it try and dig me out? Am I trapped here? Besides, it's too far up to climb back out anyway, even if that bear wasn't there. The only way out of here is...
Staring into the darkness, I can make out a darkness that delves deeper into the cavern. Just as I suspected, this cavern isn't just part of the scenery. This is one of the Gamemaker's tricks just like the bear and the giant trees were. An ice cavern that sprawls out below the arena, probably like the rock platforms above the arena.
I sit upright and glance at the bear, which is retracting its paw but continues to watch me carefully.
"Sorry, bear," I mutter, not feeling sorry at all. "I don't have time for you right now."
That's right. I have things to do, people to kill. Struggling a little with my right arm that hurts too much to move and my wounded leg that is now giving me grief for landing on it so hard, I begin to scrape along the icy floor towards the darkness.
Better get moving.
PRICE INCREASE.
This is the second price increase. Everything now costs +4 more than it originally did.
Capitol Question #28; what kind of weather do you dislike the most?
Special Event #003; which seven tributes of the original twenty-four do you feel match with which of the seven deadly sins? (Pride, Greed, Envy, Wrath, Lust, Gluttony and Sloth)
