"Trials"

A/N: Strap in folx. This is where things start to get wild.

~You tell me that you're sorry, didn't think I'd turn around

And say

It's too late to apologize, it's too late

I said it's too late to apologize, it's too late~

Hailey

Things seem off. I can't figure out what it is, but something about all of this just isn't right. I know it's been a few days in the Games now. That's enough to make people start acting weird, become people they weren't before. Maybe I'm the one who's on edge, acting different. Maybe Levi and Sigma are both acting totally normal and there's just something wrong with me.

Levi is sitting by the fire, cross legged and staring into the flames. Sigma sits next to him, and she's been closer to her usual self. She's been quiet, staring into the fire the same as Levi, but with a different, emptier look in her eyes. There's a cold feeling in the air, an uncomfortable tingle that fills the cave. Levi's been filling the silence, cracking jokes and telling stories, but everything he says to fill that emptiness is just that. Filling the silence with nothing. He still hasn't said a single thing about the Games. About how his face ended up in the sky. Yet here he is, still alive. Nothing about how Sigma and him managed to survive this long on their own. Not even what the weapon was they got to start the Games, and where it is now.

"You're suspicious," Levi says, breaking away from the middle of a story, turning to face me. His voice is emotionless. "You have a lot of questions. That's fair."

I stare at him from across the cave for a long moment, before pushing myself off the wall and walking towards him. "I saw your face in the sky."

"And yet here I am," he says, smiling.

"And yet, here you are," I echo, squatting down by the fire, rubbing my hands together to fend off the cold of outside. I look up at him expectantly.

"You want some sort of explanation?" He asks.

"These Games have been weird, you're acting weird, and you being alive is real fucking weird."

"Sorry," he says, chuckling. "Dying will do that to you."

I stare back at him blankly. I'm starting to wonder if it's worth taking my chances out there instead of in here. What the hell is he talking about?

That unnerving smile of his just widens. "Trust me, I wouldn't want to take my chances out there if I were you."

A shiver runs through my spine. "What?" I ask, slowly. My head is rushing, like something is swirling around and making it so I can't even focus on my thoughts. Maybe that's a sign that I'm just going crazy. Because there aren't enough signs of that already.

"What are you confused about?" He asks, tilting his head. "The whole thing where I died? Oh, well, yeah. I did. Sigma killed me."

I jump up, backing away from the two and reaching towards the pocketknife at my belt. Levi is unnervingly calm, while Sigma still hasn't reacted at all, continuing to stare into the fire, her eyes a blazing orange. "What the fuck is going on?" I demand, trying to sound commanding, but sounding more pathetic than anything else with the way my voice wavers.

Levi shrugs, tossing a handful of wood chips into the fire as he climbs to his feet. "It's beyond your comprehension," he says in a somber voice.

"You're telling me, that she killed you?" I take a step away from the two.

Levi takes a step towards me, a cold, metallic edge to his voice. "Death was inevitable. It always was, always is, always would be. She is just a vehicle for what must come to be."

"What the fuck, man," I murmur to myself, gripping the knife tightly as I conceal it. Laser swords, invisible psychopaths, and a creepy ass dead forest isn't enough bullshit for the Gamemakers? Now they're, what, possessing dead people? And alive people too, with whatever the hell is going on with Sigma. Not fucking cool.

"You haven't the slightest clue what is coming." It's Levi's mouth that's opening, the words coming from him as he continues to walk towards me, but the voice is completely unrecognizable. Just an alien, harsh, scraping voice that sends shivers down my spine.

"It was nice chatting, but I'm gonna head out now," I say, continuing to backpedal.

"Only one will leave this cave. She will leave this place, bathed in blood, reborn." A pillar of thick smoke shoots up from the fire in a pillar, dissipating to a thin fog as it approaches me.

"What the fuck dude." I say, and I'm not sure whether I'm talking to Levi, whatever is controlling him, Sigma, the Gamemakers, or just myself at this point.

Levi is staring me in the face now, but I find myself frozen, just a few short steps from the cave entrance, but unable to move.

"What's going on?" The voice of a scared, young girl suddenly echoes through the cave, and I look over to realize it's Sigma. Her eyes aren't that blood orange anymore, and she's out of that trance, instead staring at Levi and I, fear shining in her eyes. A few objects are floating in the air around her, a bag, some twigs and branches, stones, and even individual streaks of flame, all circling her.

"You weren't strong enough to save me," Levi says, and his voice is almost back to normal, but instead of that usual carefree smile he's sad now, sorrow in his voice as he refuses to even look back at her. "Just like Theta."

The room seems to silence with that, a stillness filling the air that leaves me with just enough of my senses to duck. Just a primal, gut feeling reaction that sends me falling to the floor. There's a whizzing sound, and a moment later an explosion. There's no fire or flame, just wind, a booming echo that sends me rolling forwards. The whole cave is spinning, a wild mess that I can just barely make enough sense of to see Levi, flying through the air and colliding against the cave wall with a crack. A canon goes of in unison with Sigma's screams.

I roll onto my back, looking up to see the boy from Twelve staring down with a fierce determination, a massive, blunt object in his hands that emanates a low buzzing sound. He begins to rear back, preparing another strike. Everything seems to move in slow motion, as I roll onto my side, unclipping the light sword as I do so, taking it with both hands and stabbing forward as I ignite it, the red beam shooting forward and into his chest.

I hold my grip on the handle, staring up at him through ragged breaths as he looks down at me, gasping for air that he's unable to find. He looks away from me, and to the red blade of light in his chest, letting out a sigh before falling forwards, his weapon remaining floating in the air by itself as he collapses on top of me.

Boom!

Doing my best to ignore the reeking smell of death, I try to push the guy off, but he's too heavy, and I'm still too disoriented from everything that's gone in this cave, the muscles leaving my arms as they turn into jelly, unable to move him.

"You did this," I hear, a quiet whisper from across the cave.

I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out, the air suddenly sucked from my lungs.

"You killed him!" The voice is a shout this time, Sigma's voice morphing into that metallic croaking, as I'm thrown into the air and into the cave wall.

The rock collides against my head, the world morphing into a blurred, dizzy spin cycle. I gasp for breath, but still nothing is there, panic filling my system as my limbs squirm back and forth, unable to free myself from the invisible force throwing me against the wall.

Footsteps echo, a shadowy silhouette giving way to Sigma, the only visible thing in the cave that is otherwise swirling with all sorts of objects being violently tossed around, bending around her. Her eyes are a blazing red now, like a reflection of flames as she marches towards me with a look of hatred.

"This is all your fault!" She screams.

Through the corner of my eyes I see the red blade of my sword reignite. It begins to float towards me, Sigma's fists tightening as it inches closer and closer to me, held at a flat angle as it veers closer and closer to be exposed neck. My head is beginning to feel light, my last, pained attempts for air just leaving me scrambling.

There's not a single thought in my mind, just an awareness that my hand is reaching towards my belt, gripping around the handle of the knife, lifting it into the air. Sigma is just inches from me, the sword not much closer. Her eyes suddenly dart to the knife, and my hand is suddenly locked in place, like an invisible field keeps it from going any further, just inches from her head.

The knife drops from my hand.

The beam of the sword disappears, the handle falling harmlessly to the ground. Air suddenly fills my lungs, gasps of desperate breath being forced in as I collapse to the ground. Sigma stares through me, eyes back to that normal brown color. Dark brown eyes that look at me pleadingly.

My other hand still grips onto the knife in her chest.

She coughs once, a splatter of blood hitting my chest, before she collapses to the floor, the rest of the objects in the cave all falling with her.

Boom!

My legs are still jelly as I climb to my feet, even now barely able to breathe as I heave in ragged breaths. I look down at my hands, murmur something incomprehensible, and fall to the ground.

Clyde

Rain is still scared of me I think. I wish I could make her understand. Even if that girl had meant no harm, and didn't have any intention of hurting Rain, that doesn't change the fact that she had to die. Her surviving is just one more obstacle to victory, one more person who might end up keeping Rain from getting out of this arena. You can't be a nice person in the Games, at least not for long.

I guess it's good that she doesn't understand though. Maybe that means she has a chance of getting out of this, and still being herself. There's no redemption for me. No happy ending where I live happily ever after. I've made too many mistakes, done too many things I can't wash my hands of. Rain is still a blank slate though. She still has that ruthless optimism, that never-ending trust, even after all that she's had to go through. I don't want that to die. It can't die. And I'll do whatever it takes to make sure it stays alive.

Rain is drawing in the dirt with a twig now, still avoiding eye contact with me, and still keeping a distance, but that's fine. The fact that she's not more scared of me than she is right now is nothing short of a miracle. She's lived on her own in that orphanage for so long, saw her best friend get reaped and never come back, was there that awful night when her mother. . . .

I shudder at that thought, repressing the memory as best I can. Not that there's much I remember from that night. Most of what I know is just what I was told afterwards, during the trial, during the treatment, from other inmates who had heard of the infamous Clyde Kaniff.

No, I don't deserve a second chance. Not to win these games and live my life, not to try and be a good person, I don't even deserve to be a father. But here I am anyways. Life is a bitch like that.

"Dad?" Rain asks, that nervous, southern drawl slipping into her voice.

"What is it?" I ask, gently.

She points at the ground, where a metal tube has appeared, just like the earlier one that gave us the dagger. . . and the goldfish hat, that I've successfully gotten Rain to forget about by hiding in my bag.

I make towards it, but pause for a moment. Rain is back to lazily drawing on the ground, a glazed over look in her eyes. Maybe she's just bored, or tired, or maybe it's something much bigger and I'm a giant fuckup who emotionally scarred the only person left in my life. Regardless, she needs something right now.

"You go ahead and open it," I say, taking a seat on a log.

"Are you sure?" She asks, not even looking up at me.

"Yeah, go for it."

She sits still for a few moments, before shrugging and dropping the stick on the ground. "Okay," she says quietly.

Rain takes her time walking over to the tube, cracking it open to reveal nothing but a note on a simple piece of paper. She squints her eyes, double checking the tube before turning to me and shrugging. "Just a note, it says it's for you," she says, waving it in the air.

"What does it say?" I ask.

"I dunno," she murmurs, holding up the paper and scanning it over, her lips moving without noise. She reads like that for a while, before suddenly stopping, her mouth gaping open for a moment before she clamps it shut.

"Rain?"

She doesn't show any sort of response, just continuing to stare down at the paper, her lips sealed shut as her eyes rapidly scan over the bottom of the note.

"Rain." I sigh, standing up and taking a step towards her. "What does it-"

She lets out a sound that's halfway between a yelp and a sob, leaping backwards and quickly shoving the paper into her mouth. I barely have time to react before she's already chewed and swallowed it.

"Why did you do that?" I ask, not with any anger over some stupid note, just a genuine worry. The look in her eyes right now. . . she looks more scared than, well, than I've ever seen her. "What did it say?"

Rain takes another step away from me, hugging onto her shoulders as she chokes out another pained sob. She's saying something, but none if it is actual speech. It's just gurgles of sound, all while she continues to back away, fear flashing in her eyes as she looks at me with disbelief. "It's n-n-nothing," she stutters.

"Rain?" Is all I can find myself saying, knowing it isn't the right thing to do, but still stepping towards her anyways. Something is wrong, horribly wrong, and for once I don't have a clue what it is. What did that note say? What did it say that would make her so horribly terrified of me?

"Stop!" She shouts through tears, and I can't even tell if she's talking to me. "Just. . . ugh!" She lets out a high-pitched scream, covering her ears as she looks up at the sky. "You're lying! You're lying."

A twig snaps as I take another step towards her, and Rain's head instantly snaps towards me, a feral fear in her eyes as her fingers go up to the side of her head, where a blue, triangular light illuminates. Just like the one that girl had on. She stops for a moment, looking at me as she heaves in a breath. I don't have time to think of anything to say, before suddenly the glowing blue button at the center of my chest shatters.

The world begins to literally move in slow motion, fragments of glass falling upwards as I find myself frozen in place, only able to watch as Rain stands still for a long few moments, takes a single, rapid step towards me, before even more quickly disappearing into the forest in a flash.

A shard of glass cuts against my cheek, slicing my skin and leaving red droplets that hang in the air before slowly descending to the ground. The blood splashes against the grass, staining the dark green floor. Then, just as suddenly, it begins to rise back up. The glass falls, the world slowly speeding up until the glass all reforms itself at my chest.

A blue light flashes, a shutter-like sound coming from all around me as the whole world turns a swirling blend of blue and orange.

I feel myself falling, just for a moment, before I slam into the ground. The wind is knocked out of me as I gasp for breath, hardly noticing the smoky remains of the blue button on my chest. A hack out my lungs as I quickly remove the vest and toss it to the ground, keeling over on all fours as I attempt to force air into my system.

My whole body aches, arms and legs shaking as I wobble to my feet. Still though, I force myself to walk forwards, off into the forest, still barely choking in breaths as I stumble on. There should be a million questions in my mind right now. About what just happened. Why the vest blew up, why it seemed like I was frozen in time when before it did the exact opposite, slowing down reality around me. But through my muddled, hazy mind only one thought echoes back and forth against the walls of my skull.

Where is Rain.

Peeka

I'm a monster. A murderer. An animal. And I'm not scared. Why aren't I scared?

Cedric was an accident, just a mistake against someone who was trying to kill me. The boy from Eight was on purpose, but he didn't give me a choice. I had to. To save Ephraim. But the boy, Malcolm. He was just a kid. He screamed and begged me to not, and I gutted him. I couldn't even control myself, it was like someone else was controlling me and I couldn't do anything but watch with a numbed horror. Just watch, and try to pretend I wasn't secretly glad it was him instead of Ephraim.

This wasn't self-defense, it wasn't an accident, it wasn't anything I can be forgiven for. Ephraim spent so long trying to convince me that I was still Peeka, the stupid girl who always smiled. The girl who would think she was a monster because of a white lie, or a simple misunderstanding. I was convinced for my whole life that I was horrible, an evil, awful person because of all these tiny things that I would do.

And now I'm a real monster, and I realize how stupid all of that was. Deke, my parents, all of them. They treated me like I was something that I wasn't all of my life, and now here I am. Proving them right. Letting them know that deep down, beneath it all, this is who I am. Who I always was. A monster.

The blood won't come off. Ephraim has been using a damp t-shirt to try to wipe it all away, but no amount of scrubbing will get rid of it. Even if someone tore off my skin and made me grow it over again, that blood would still be there. Maybe Ephraim wouldn't have to look at it anymore though. The cameras could see Picaboo Benner, the friendly cowgirl, the belle, the human being. But I would still see it. That blood won't ever go away.

And yet, even with all of that. All this time I've had to myself, sitting, thinking about my life, who I was, who I am, who I want to be. I'm not scared anymore. I guess I can't be anymore. Timid, naive Peeka is gone, every last bit of her. For better or for worse.

Ephraim throws down the shirt, letting out a sigh as he drags his hands against his face. I notice that it's raining, steady drops of water pattering against the ground. When I hold out my hand, I can hear the water splashing against my skin, see it streaming down, trickling through my fingers. But I don't feel a thing.

"I'm sorry," Ephraim says, running a hand through his hair, which is soaking wet and an unruly mess. It passes through my thoughts that it must have started raining a long time ago, with the way that his face is covered in a dozen different paths, tablets of water racing down his chin and splattering against the dead grass.

"The blood is bothering you, isn't it?" I say indifferently.

"No," he says, sighing, shaking his head, and rubbing his temple. "Don't worry about it."

"You can't lie to me," I laugh dryly, flashing a lifeless smile, before dropping back to a more somber expression. "I'm sorry too."

"It's okay," he says, still refusing to look me in the eyes, his pupils darting in every possible other place.

"I didn't tell you what I'm sorry for," I say, softly.

"It doesn't matter," he says, wiping his hands off on the inside of his shirt. "We're in this together, no matter what."

"No matter what," I echo.

He smiles. "You're right, I shouldn't tempt the Gamemakers."

"You shouldn't tempt me," I say. He looks up at me in confusion, but I avoid his gaze, staring down at my knuckles which are still colored red. "I can't control myself anymore. I'm going to hurt you, we both know it's going to happen. I don't know why you haven't left."

He's quiet at that for a long while.

"Because I trust you," he offers up.

"No you don't," I reply immediately.

He bites the inside of his lip. "No, maybe I don't." He looks up at me, and I don't back down this time, looking into his eyes that are filled with something so unusual. Something honest and kind. "But I care about you. You're a good person, even if you don't see it. Somebody needs to be around to see that in you, or else you'll forget it."

"You love Alita," I blurt out. "You love your dad. You have people to live for, and if you stay with me you're going to die. Why am I so important that you don't just run away right now, give yourself a better chance of going home to them."

He doesn't say anything for a long while. He hardly even moves, he just stares up into the sky. I don't say anything either, just sitting cross-legged, staring at him and waiting. When he finally does speak, he doesn't stop staring into the sky, he hardly even speaks at all, his voice coming in at just above a whisper.

"You're my friend, and you need me. The person who my dad raised by himself, the person who Alita loves. . . he wouldn't run away from a friend when she needs him most. If I left you behind, I'd already have lost them. It wouldn't matter how much further into these stupid Games I make it."

"How did you know?" I ask absently.

He looks back down from the sky, giving me an odd look. "Know what?"

"That you loved her. That she loved you," my voice trails off into a whisper.

"I just, did," he says. "Me and Alita, we were just sitting by the fire, just talking. And I looked her in the eyes, and I realized. And it was as simple as that."

Boom!

A canon goes off in the distance. Ephraim turns away, rising to his feet in panic, but I don't so much as blink.

"I wonder who that was," Ephraim says quietly, sinking back down to the ground across from me.

"I know."

He looks at me with bewilderment. "You-"

I cut him off. "I know what you're going to say. I already know, and you don't have to say it. I just. . . I have to. I-I can't die without. . . ." I search for the words but can't find anything. I know what I'm thinking, what I want to say. I know the exact words I want to say. But I can't.

I lean in, and without thinking about it a second longer, kiss him on the cheek. He lurches back, panic flashing across his eyes as he opens his mouth to say something, but I don't give him the chance.

"I know," I say again, turning away from him as I rise to my feet."Good luck, Ephraim," I say softly. "Thank you, and I'm sorry."

I don't give myself another moment. I begin to walk in the opposite direction, slowly at first, but before long I'm running, unsure of where I'm going but just knowing I need to get as far away as possible.

And this time, he doesn't follow.

Prestige

The canons keep on coming. Just like that, there's only nine of us left. Fifteen people have come and gone. I was there for one of them. Almost was one of them. Should have been one of them.

I shiver at the thought, hiking up the overly large coat that was sent to me a few hours ago. It seemed useless at the time, but now with the rain pouring down, the pellets of rain getting colder with every drop, I'm much more grateful for it. I've been walking around aimlessly through the forest for hours now, trudging through the muddied forest floor looking for any sort of shelter for the rain. Maybe I should be more cautious, but with two deaths in the last hour already, I feel safer. They wouldn't want all their action to happen too quickly, would they? It's been impossible to keep track of time here, but it can't have been more than a couple weeks since we got here.

A bolt of lightning flashes. Blue energy arcs through the air, splintering like roots of a tree in the distance. A moment later, a booming crack of thunder echoes throughout the forest. I stumble, my foot catching on a root as I face-plant into the muddy ground.

I lay there for a moment, feeling chills as the harsh splashes of water assault my back, feeling more like ice than rain at this point. I roll over onto my back, grabbing onto a tree branch as I pull myself back onto my feet. I don't bother trying to wipe off the mud. The rain should take care of that before long.

A flash of lightning strikes again, much closer this time, the booming thunder sounding off in near-unison. The moment of brightness is just enough to make out something in the distance. I can't tell what it is, that brief flash revealing the outline of something, but nothing more.

The chattering of my teeth, the slick mud that coats my hands and face, my barely standing feet all outweigh any worries I have, as I break out into a run towards the place. My stomach growls with every step, while my throat burns with a dryness. The gigantic coat, now torn up and muddied, and the light sword are all that I have left on me, aside from the torn up and wet clothes and jersey that I've tied around my waist.

I grip onto that sword, my hand tightening around the metallic handle. I'm ready to use it if I have to, I know I am. There are only eight more people standing in my way. Eight more people, and I get to live. I come home a celebrity, proving to my family that they were wrong. I get that tryout with the Sabres, and I kill it. I move to the Capitol, and I get to play in the big leagues. Every single thing that I've ever wanted is just an outstretched hand away from me. An outstretched hand that eight other kids are reaching for just like me.

That image keeps on flashing through my head. That guy, I don't even know his name or remember what district he was from, but I'll never forget his face. He came out of nowhere, just appeared, and suddenly his arms were on my neck, and a couple seconds longer and. . . .

My feet fail for a moment as I pull to a stop, taking in deep, shaky breaths as prickles run across my skin, suddenly getting the feeling that I'm being watched. That he's not dead, that he's still out there, waiting. Just waiting to leap out and finish what he started.

But I know he's gone. That other image is still just as imprinted in my brain as the other one. Hailey, with that red blade, cutting clean through his neck. His eyes, those lifeless, empty eyes staring at me as his head rolled to the forest floor.

I jump at the crack of thunder, this time so close that the blue streaks of lightning are momentarily blinding, a fire starting in the brush just a couple dozen feet in front of me where the lightning struck.

There's no more time to waste. The past is the past. It's happened and it's over. If someone is in that shelter, I won't hesitate. I know what I have to do. What I've always had to do. I have to go home.

I find a renewed source of energy, igniting the blade as I march forward, the weightless blue beam of light extending from the handle and into the ground. The muddied ground sizzles and boils as the blade passes through it without resistance, twigs, leaves, dirt all dissipating and leaving behind a charred trail.

The outline is clearer now as I approach it, the fog seeming to thicken as I approach the place. Darkened rocks form a wall and ceiling, allowing just a small entry into the pitch black place.

Pangs of fear run through me, my survivalist impulses begging me to back away from this dark place. The darkness in it is all-consuming, eating away at any light that enters it. Here at the entrance, I can feel it's pull. Ever since I swallowed that pill, there's been something else within me. A presence, some sort of awareness of everything around me. Past this entrance, that presence is gone. Something happened here. Something bad. But even through all the dark and shadows, I can sense something else too, something faint and in the distance. Someone is still in there.

That's all the assurance I need, pushing away my fears and clinging onto that resilience that I just recently formed. No backing down now. I know what I have to do.

I let the sword go in first, a faint blue light emanating from it and illuminating the dark place with an ominous glow. My connection to that awareness seems to cut off as I enter, not the tiniest bit of light from the outside world entering in. I reach out, as a test, and try to move a pebble by my feet, but nothing happens.

I take in a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. The dark is silent, the only audible sound being the periodic intake and outtake of breaths, and the soft clap of my shoes on the smooth stone floor.

There's a whisper in the air, a soft, light, airy voice. It speaks no words, just a soundless voice that gives me a feeling. Move.

I leap backwards, just in time to avoid the slashing red blade of light that swooshes where my neck was just a moment ago. A feral scream rises from the shadows, a silhouette striking out again, my hands moving automatically to block the blade, blue clashing against red. The figure strikes again, forcing me backwards with each crazed slash. They're moving almost blindingly fast, and I don't even know how I'm able to block the strikes. There's no thought in it at all, just a reflex, like someone else is guiding my arms, and I'm just allowing them to move for me.

They swing at me again, and I dodge backwards, stumbling over a rock and falling onto my back, out of the cave and into the forest, where the cold rain has now turned into thin, falling sheets of ice. I can see the red blade following after me, and I have just enough time to bring up my own sword, the two beams of light meeting just inches from my chest. Out here, in the foggy outdoors, with the glow of the blades illuminating us both, I see the person opposite of me for the first time.

Hailey looks back at me, feral, panicked eyes that lock onto mine, then, go soft.

"Prestige?" She asks quietly, stepping back, the red blade unigniting and collapsing back into the handle.

I jump to my feet, feeling my grip around the blade tighten as I stare through her wearily. There's a rushing swirl of emotions rushing through me, but I shove all of them away. I've already made my decision. One more person out of the way, one step closer to everything I've worked for, everything that always seemed so impossibly out of reach.

I look down at the blade in my hand, not having the courage in me to look at her.

"I'm sorry," I tell her, softly.

I feel myself crushed in an embrace, and barely stop myself from slashing out wildly with the sword, the blade stopping just inches from Hailey's back as she clings onto me.

"I killed them," she whispers, her voice wavering ever so slightly. "They're all dead. All of them, because of me. I killed all of them."

She pulls back from me, and I have to unignite the blade to stop her from cutting herself in half. Hailey's eyes are dry, not a single tear in them, but there's still a sadness there. She has a hollow look, her eyes seeming fixed on some distant point even as they lock onto my eyes.

"I'm sorry," she says, her voice hoarse as she attempts, and fails, to flash a smile. She seems to be searching for more, but after a while just bows her head. "I'm so sorry."

With that she collapses back into me, leaning on my shoulder as she wraps her arms around me for support, her legs barely keeping her standing on her feet. I find my hands wrapping around the handle of the blade, pointed towards her back. My thumb traces the outline of the button, just one quick push and I can end this. Finally kill the one person I've refused to again and again. Prove to myself that I can do it. That I have what it takes. Kill the past.

My grip around the handle tightens as I grab onto her shoulder, leaning in towards her.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

The weapon drops from my hand, sinking into the mud floor.

A/N: And here we go. We're reaching the climax of the Games, and I'm super excited to finally be here. I planned these chapters for so long, and it feels crazy to finally be putting them down onto the page. There's even more crazy coming up, and it won't be long before we arrive at the end of this absolute journey of a story. I'm so glad to see so many people still reading this, and I hope these last few chapters makes the wait worth it.

11th: Blaze Colton: Blaze was fun. Him and his sister had such a great relationship that I loved to write, and his hotheadedness and willingness to do whatever it takes to win was refreshing to write. Sadly, we reached a point in the Games where people are going to start to die, and someone needed to be the instigator for the cave fight, and Blaze got unlucky and picked the wrong fight. While he may be joining his brother in the halls of D12 tributes who didn't quite make it to victory, he left a mark on the Games. Thank you TributeScott for this rage-fueled man who was just trying to be there for his sister when she needed him.

10th: Sigma Krell: I don't think it's exactly shocking she didn't win. I know there's undoubtedly still many questions about what was going on with her, and I can promise you that those questions won't be left unanswered. In the end, Sigma was a sweet kid who went through way too many hardships for any one person to handle, and was unfortunate enough to be corrupted by a weapon prototype that got out of hand. Rest easy, kid.

Died a while ago but official confirmation now: Levi Ezra: I love this guy, I really do. But he was never going to win. While he may have been able to make it further if not for that crummy luck with the prototype causing Sigma to lose control, Levi was never going far, and at least this way he died before he had to see what Sigma would later become, even if something else took his place and walked in his shoes, pretending to be him. While this life may have sucked, alternate universe you is a main character in my novella. Your life may suck even more in that universe, but hey, always look on the bright side of life. (cue Monty Python, and see y'all next chapter, when things get even more wild)