And here's the next chapter of the Games.
Veranda Quinton
District 3 Female
18 Years Old
You're an idiot, Veranda. I mean, how did you forget about the crossbow? And then you missed the shot?
That bitch is still chasing me. She's not that close, but also not far enough for me to reload this crossbow. Does she even have a weapon? It doesn't matter, can't risk it.
There's a concrete structure coming up on my left, its backside sloping downward into the ground. At the front is a metal door, slightly ajar, labeled "service entrance."
Entrance to what? Guess I'll find out. I need to lose her somehow.
Slamming the door shut behind me, I realize I'm looking at a stairwell going down. Without hesitation, I make my way forward as fast as I can without tripping. At the bottom of the stairs is a dimly lit room with countless metal containers, bottles of differently colored liquids, cleaning supplies, and tools.
The far end of the room has another door, leading into a bright hallway that instantly reminds me of my father's company headquarters. I'm not sure how far Whitney is behind me, and I couldn't lock any of the doors, so I continue to speed through the hallways. One door attracts my attention, as it has a sign next to it displaying, "Central Command – Authorized Personnel Only."
Fortunately enough, the door's unlocked. Stepping into the room, I find myself face-to-face with dozens of TV monitors mounted on the wall, each showing live footage from what I presume to be cameras spread throughout the facility I'm in.
This is a big find. And I don't want anyone interrupting me. I lock the door using a touchscreen panel before sitting down at the computers below the monitors, which span the entire length of the room.
I notice movement on some of the screens – looks like we have the boy from Four and the girl from Five walking around in different parts of the facility. Then I see her – Whitney, exploring the same hallways I did.
There's got to be more in here than just surveillance cameras. I look at the console in front of me, full of lights, buttons, and dials. There's a section labeled "Surface Defense Mechanisms" accompanied by a "launch" key right underneath it. Whatever this means, I'm sure it won't be good for any tributes up there, which seems to be the vast majority so far.
I press "launch," and a smaller computer monitor asks me to press and hold for confirmation, which I do.
A female robotic voice fills the room, "Initializing deployment of Beowulf units. Please advise all relevant personnel to exercise due caution."
I can't say I know for sure what's going on, but I have a feeling things are about to get real interesting.
Bliss Emerson
District 1 Male
18 Years Old
"So who's going tonight?" I ask as the daylight continues to fade away. The four of us are sitting on various supply crates scattered around the Cornucopia.
"The girls are," replies Dom. We never formally talked about this, but I guess Dom is the de facto leader of the group, though I can tell my sister has been less than thrilled.
"Maybe we can actually kill someone, you know, like we're supposed to," Mira mutters quietly, but loud enough to make sure Dom hears.
"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" Dom shoots back. "We haven't found anyone to kill yet."
"Really now? What about those people hiding in that freakin' cabin on the beach?"
"Too many, and they're too well-armed. Not a good idea at this stage."
"So we go on another meaningless hunt to look for people we can't kill – 'cause that's a great idea," Miracle replies sarcastically.
I'm listening intently, but Cora just continues to sharpen her daggers, head turned away from the rest of us.
"Look, Miracle, if you want to win this thing, you can't just go around attacking everyone in sight," Dom responds. "You gotta be strategic, play it smart. But I get it – using your brain isn't something you're accustomed to."
Mira stands up suddenly, sword in hand and glaring furiously at Dom.
"The fuck did you just say?"
"I said—"
"Enough!" Cora shouts, not bothering to turn around and face them. The two are silent now, apparently caught off guard by her, as she rarely has anything to say.
"You do realize that all this bullshit bickering is a great way to lose sponsor money, right?" She continues.
Mira sighs loudly and storms off towards the other side of the Cornucopia structure.
"I'll go talk to her," I tell them.
I go around the pyramid and find her sitting with her sword against a tree, out of our allies' view.
"You okay?" I ask.
"You ever thought our Games would be this slow?"
"Not really."
"Remember when Serenity won her Games?" Mira asks me.
"Of course. Her group killed exactly half of the tributes by day four."
It was the 83rd Games – widely considered one of the best, and not because 12 tributes were killed by Careers in the first few days, but for the intense standoffs between those Careers after the alliance was disbanded.
"And you know what day it is?"
"Surely it's not—"
"Yep."
"We're not doing that badly," I offer. "Only 14 are left."
"Yeah, but we didn't kill any of them since the first morning."
"The time will come eventually."
"I'm tired of waiting, Bliss. Let's leave them. Then he can really do whatever the fuck he wants."
The suggestion doesn't catch me by surprise at all. Still, I don't think it's the right choice at this time.
"We can, but not now. We still hold the Cornucopia, which means food, clean water, shelter…"
"So we kill them and take it," she says.
I pause before letting out an exaggerated laugh. I have no idea if Mira's actually joking or not, but she doesn't press the matter any further, picking up her sword and walking back instead.
It's right after sunset now, and the girls have just left to go on the hunt.
Dom walks a few laps around the Cornucopia area, like a patrolling Peacekeeper, before deciding to lie down on the grass and stare at the sky.
I'm tossing knives at a tree when I hear it: a low, guttural sound emanating from the trees, not quite a growl yet not a roar. Then, a large creature emerges slowly, frost blue eyes piercing through the dark. It has the appearance of a black bear, but bulkier, with unusually long claws that gleam in the moonlight.
"Uh, Dom, we have a problem," I say as I try my best to maintain composure.
He gets up immediately, shoots a glance in my direction, and picks up an aluminum canister sitting nearby. As the bear continues its slow march towards us, I prepare to launch a knife in its direction, knowing it likely won't do much. Meanwhile, Dom is dousing the extra supplies with what I assume is lighter fluid.
"Screw that. We need to go, now!" I yell as I throw a knife at the creature's head. Although I hit my mark, the bear only becomes more aggressive and picks up its pace towards us.
Dom stops what he's doing, perhaps realizing the pointlessness of burning the supplies now, and grabs a spear. I launch a few more knives into the bear and manage to bring it down before two more of these things emerge from the woods.
Right as I realize I'm out of knives, the creatures suddenly open their mouths to roar, unleashing a mercilessly bright light from within. Staggering backward, I trip on a crate and fall to the cold ground, followed by a flash of searing pain across my chest that robs me of my breath, and a warmth that can only be my own blood.
As some of my vision returns, I see several more of these bears running past me, chasing after Dom. My final thoughts are of my sister, and how we ended up on this stupid journey that was doomed from the start.
Wherever you are, Mira, I hope you live to see our bitter home again.
Lynn Stackker
District 6 Female
16 Years Old
With a cannon going off behind us, Alexei slams the door shut, or what remains of it at least. I peer out the windows to see about a half-dozen of these things quickly approaching the lighthouse.
"We should hide in the basement," Ebony says, trying to catch her breath.
"But we'll be trapped," I stammer.
"We're already trapped," replies Alexei as he heads down the stairs, the rest of us following before Cher slams the basement door shut behind her.
These mutts had chased us over quite a distance before we saw the lighthouse. We couldn't keep running forever, so we seized on the first opportunity for shelter.
Incredibly enough, there's a set of doors at one end of the basement, but one that certainly doesn't fit in with the rest of the house. And even better, the doors are wide open.
"This whole chase was a Gamemaker gimmick," Cher comments.
"We don't have much choice," says Alexei. "Can't go back out the way we came."
Through the door is a rather long flight of stairs going down, with an overhead sign displaying, "Project BEOWULF Facility – Clifton Point Lighthouse Entrance."
At the bottom of the stairs is two elevators, separately labeled "Research Facilities" and "Living Quarters."
"I like the sound of living quarters," I say in half-seriousness, knowing that the Gamemakers can set anything up to be lethal.
Alexei agrees. "Maybe we'll find some info there on what they were researching,"
"Just remember, the doors were wide open when we found them, so I seriously doubt we're the first people down here," notes Cher.
As we enter the elevator, my mind begins to dwell on the things that could await us inside this underground facility: deadly traps, mutts like the ones on the surface, the Careers we were trying to attack… One thing's for sure – these Games have just taken quite the turn.
AN: I'm hoping this recent spell of writing motivation will last. I have the basics of the plot planned out already, so barring any unforeseen circumstances, future updates won't involve such ridiculously long gaps like before.
As always, please consider leaving a review. And thanks to everyone who checked in last chapter!
Additional placement(s):
14th: Bliss Emerson (D1M), killed by mutts released by Veranda