The ninth day
-Elliot Russo, 17, District 6-
His clothes were mostly dry by this point, but he was still absolutely freezing. He had been a little chilly before with the double layer of the vest and the long-sleeved shirt, but now that his body had been wet all day, he couldn't stop shivering. He never thought he would wish so desperately for a warm towel to dry off with, something, anything to keep the clothes from sticking to his body. Elliot had been cold before: some of the drugs that were passed around at parties made him feel so cold… He always had to just persevere through it then, and now he really had no choice.
Really though, his body was just so tense. He felt like he was using up energy he didn't have when he shivered. His neck was so tight from the cold it was giving him a headache. Camellia and Jace seemed like they were doing better in that regard, but Elliot wasn't exactly sure what was the best way to ask fellow tributes to cuddle with you for warmth. He hated to inconvenience his allies with this problem, so he just stayed quiet as they slowly began to wake up.
Even though his body was cold and he felt like they were sitting in a cold air draft, at least the note from Wolf was safe. He wanted so badly to make sure nothing happened to it… he put it right back next to his heart, where it belonged. He couldn't give up now.
He just hoped that Wolf and Riggs were still trying to fight for him. Well, he had no doubt they were. He knew that being a mentor was probably hard work, and Wolf was probably still reeling… Ugh, God. Elliot rubbed his temples, trying to quell his headache, even just a little bit, but his hands were so cold that it only made him tense up more.
The reality of the situation was… Well, if Riggs and Wolf were still trying to get him something, and they hadn't… Elliot must not have been marketable anymore. Camellia had received a gift since the initial sponsorship of the whole alliance… Elliot had not.
What's wrong with me that I can't get people behind me? Elliot wasn't used to being the least popular person in the room. He didn't have prior fame like the other two had: both of them being featured before in a final 8 interview. Camellia had more screentime than either of them, having been interviewed twice. Everyone knew who she was for sure. Elliot thought he'd don't a good job at showing them who he is, but apparently it wasn't enough.
Lenore was right. People like a rocker. They don't like a vulnerable boy. Elliot had let his public persona drop, and now he supposed he was paying the price for it. He had such a good time at the party that he thought maybe it was coming together for him, he was actually making some strides… But he supposed it was Jill's company and the pure euphoria messing with his brain. Obviously, he hadn't made the impression that he thought he did.
That was why he knew that they had to get going and give the crowd some action. The crowd didn't want to support tributes that just sat around angrily all day. Sure, that was all Elliot wanted to do, but as Lenore said, sometimes you have to bite the bullet to make it to the top. Elliot had always wanted to be at the top like she said…
But now coming out on top means murdering people. Could he really do that?
His heart beat, and as he felt it, he remembered the note that was pressed against it. He had so much waiting for him outside of this casino. How could he just give up on it when he was finally starting to build a future that made him happy?
Being a murderer wouldn't make Elliot happy, though. That wasn't what he wanted to be known for. He wanted to be known for being a rocker! He wanted to be known for his talent, for his charm, for his music… Not for this. The Capitolites were so enthusiastic to support Elliot when he was rocking, but they weren't yet confident that their support of him would actually matter in the Games. Why would they be? He hadn't done anything. He was like a rocker that walked out on stage and just completely froze up, didn't sing, didn't do anything, just stared at the audience. Who would want to support someone like that?
But how could he possibly end someone's life like this? The knife felt far too light in his hand to be able to kill anyone. Just thinking about it made him shudder. Eventually, he wouldn't have a choice.
Elliot tried to picture his mentor's face. Riggs was such a good person, and he had made two kills in his Games… Elliot didn't like thinking about that, but he knew that if Riggs could do it, he could too.
"When you have to, you'll find the strength to. Until then, don't lose sleep worrying about it. Easier said than done… I know. But just try."
Riggs's voice going through his mind calmed Elliot's thoughts for a little. They were still doing alright. He couldn't stop beating himself up for losing that first aid kit, but ultimately, there was nothing he could have done… He just hoped his allies understood. As much as his brain knew they would, his emotions were still flaring, telling his mind things that he knew weren't true. But if the one person he put his everything into only wanted to hurt him, who was to say that wasn't true about other people in his life?!
Elliot took a deep breath. It was pointless for him to be thinking this way. These thoughts were destructive, and they weren't going to help him get back to Jill, who was probably so afraid and needed him just as much as he needed her. He had to be focusing on constructive things. That was what Riggs advised, and he trusted Riggs. He knew that Riggs was fighting for him.
The lights came up and Camellia was awake as soon as they were bright enough that Elliot could see the dim outline of her features. She didn't talk at first, just laid with her eyes open, taking some deep breaths. It took another half an hour at least for her to actually get up, but Elliot didn't mind. Having her awake was reassuring to him, and helped keep him focused on those constructive thoughts like Riggs said to.
Jace took a little longer to wake up, but not by that long. He, too, laid awake for a few minutes before sitting up. The exhaustion was absolutely mutual. Elliot felt like he'd hit the very bottom of his energy meter three days ago, and it hadn't risen, but it couldn't fall any farther. He didn't even feel this exhausted when he woke up upon only getting two hours of sleep hung over. At least then he could sleep for most of the day. Here, there was no real sleep. He was honestly a little worried that another week here would cause him to hallucinate while he was still awake. Hopefully he wouldn't have to get that delirious. But if it meant he was alive, it wasn't the worst option.
"Last one folks," Camellia said, her voice sounding an octave lower out of exhaustion. Elliot's stomach dropped when she cored the last apple with her hands. Elliot was damn sick of apples, but at least it had provided them some food. He had no idea what they were going to do without a food supply… Camellia distributed the pieces, and the three of them took their good old time to eat. Jace sucked on the piece slowly, Elliot and Camellia both taking incredibly small bites.
Just as they were finishing, they heard the short fanfare that always made Elliot clench his teeth nervously.
"Good morning tributes. The elevator is up for grabs once again today. Please take your rolls." The announcement clicked off and sure enough, the same foam dice with twenty sides they'd used last time came up from the floor. Elliot sighed. Last time he hadn't had such great luck, but it didn't hurt to try.
Elliot threw his roll and watched the navy die skip, hop, and jump to… Three. That was terrible… What happened to his relatively good luck?!
Camellia's stopped next. "Mm…" she went over to examine it. "Six. Less than half!"
Jace's stopped next. The dice said in a small voice, "Sixteen." Jace's eyes got wide.
"That's a good one!" Camellia said, giving him a firm clap on the back.
"If we get it, at least nobody else has it," Elliot said, and the others agreed. The lights around the elevator started glowing in the different tribute colors. Elliot bit his lip as the colors limited, until there was only Jace's yellow and two burnt colors… It eventually stopped on…
Light brown. Elliot released his breath.
"Who's that light brown color?" he asked, his hands starting to feel clammy.
"I don't know exactly who, but I think it's someone in an early District…" Camellia said hesitantly.
"Shit," Jace hissed, just as the elevator whirred into motion.
"It's alright," Elliot said quietly, trying to believe it. "Let's just focus on us…" He could only hope the Careers wouldn't find them. The trio drifted back into an uncomfortable silence for a moment as the elevator continued to move, and stopped. They could hear the door slide open very faintly, and Elliot's heart dropped to his stomach.
"Surely we have a chance to win some food here," Camellia said quietly, taking a deep breath and continuing to savor the breakfast. She was trying to change the subject… They couldn't hear voices, so Elliot hoped it was far enough away that they wouldn't get found.
"It looks like there's more than one wheel here," Elliot said.
"I wouldn't know," Jace said. He was trying to lighten the mood, but after nine days and less than half of the tributes dead, none of them were really in the mood to cheer up.
"There's one that's kind of close," Camellia said. "I didn't get to explore last night when we were knocked out, but it lit up so colorfully in the night."
"I noticed that too," Elliot said with a yawn. He didn't really pay much attention to it though as he kept getting lost in his own thoughts.
Each of them continued to eat slowly, knowing that when they were done, they would have to leave the safety of their position. It wouldn't be that far, though, so Elliot tried to stay positive.
Once they were all done with their meals, the trio slowly packed up their things and made it up to their feet. Camellia took Jace's hand, Elliot leading the way towards the wheel. As he got closer and saw the title, he felt a wave of hope crashing over him.
SURVIVAL WHEEL.
Elliot wanted to run, hoping so desperately for anything salty he could munch on, but also knew that he should save his energy, and surely Camellia and Jace did not want to run right now. Do they think I'm annoying…? Surely they think I'm a little…
"Survival!" Camellia said. "I hope there's something good for us."
"I just hope we're lucky enough to get it," Jace said. Elliot agreed with that.
The wheel was just as grandiose and large as the ones located on the other floor. Elliot was always blown away by the beauty of the golden filigree plastered onto it and the colorful lights.
"I have two more," Jace said. "Might not hurt to try and get something to eat."
"Who thinks they can do it?" Elliot asked, glancing between the other two.
"We all know how my luck has been," Camellia said with a small laugh. At least she seemed in good spirits about it.
"My luck is just getting worse," Elliot sighed. "I don't want to waste your token Jace."
"Yeah…" Camellia said.
"That's alright, I'll do it." Camellia guided him up to the wheel and directed his hand to the slot where he inserted his token. Jace found the lever by himself and pulled down. The wheel spun, clicking rapidly as it did, before starting to slow down. And it stopped on…
"Giant bag of jerky!" Elliot said, his heart jumping for joy at the prospect of something new to eat. The machine produced the bag of jerky, closed up with a bright yellow zipper.
"Nice job man!" Camellia said, giving Jace a pat on the back, who smiled as he reached down to get his prize.
"Thanks," Jace said, then gave a small smirk.
"Guess that jerky is the new apples."
~.~.
-Coda Fukai, 14, District 8-
He wasn't sad that Rammie was dead. After what she'd said and done, she had it coming to her. Seeing her face up above him, grinning down at him, Coda could feel all of the hatred she held for… Everyone, really. All of the joy that she got from seeing them upset, especially when she was the cause. She'd finally bit the dust, and Coda was quite frankly glad. After how terrible she was constantly making Henley, she could burn in hell. Henley always smiled and shrugged her off, but Coda could tell that Rammie was getting to her. And he vowed to not let that happen…
God, Henley. He hadn't done anything since she died. He mostly felt like he was pacing, not going up any of the winding staircases to explore further. Perhaps because he was sure that something advantageous was waiting for him on this floor… Perhaps because he knew that even if he found someone, he wouldn't be able to act.
What kind of person was he? It wasn't that he didn't want to make the Games go faster… He wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of here and make him pay for what he did… But he just had no idea how he was going to do it. His chest burned with fire just thinking about it, and yet his body remained frozen.
Coda Fukai was never one to just… Back away! What would the guys back home think as they watched him just sit there and do nothing? They would probably laugh…
But they had also never been in the middle of a zoo, being watched all the time, being expected to end lives… Coda had certainly never done that before.
You almost did, Kousuke said in his brain. You were so willing to risk my life, just like you risked hers.
I did not risk her life.
Coda reached into his pocket and pulled out the note, which was frayed and wet on the bottom edge.
You did what you could, but in the end, it was her choice. There truly was nothing you could have done. You just need to keep it up for a little bit longer now. Take it one day at a time.
The note wasn't signed, it was only accompanied by the drawing of a pawprint, but Coda didn't really care who sent it. He just needed so badly to hear it from someone else.
It was her choice. She wanted to give me a second chance… The food packages, tied with a shiny golden ribbon, tasted bitter as Coda was reminded how he got them. The water canteen with a bright golden stripe on it felt so heavy in his hands…
The kiss of death wheel may have been her choice. But the critical wheel was yours.
He didn't kill her though. What if you had?
Coda got up to his feet. He couldn't just sit there and think anymore. He did what he had to do… He wasn't sure how he would ever forgive himself, but if she forgave him enough to lose her life for him, then it was his job to try.
What would the guys back home think? He didn't care. He thought Tartan was one of them too. But he just treated Coda's only real friend like a pawn! Coda would never forgive him for that. And he had a feeling that his friends from home would have done the same if they were there. And that just wasn't fair.
Coda didn't care what they thought of him because he was going to show them all exactly what he thought about people like them.
You were one of them.
"I'm not anymore."
Every time he got back to work swinging the light, slender weapon that he could never remember the name of, he tried to work himself up to go exploring. His luck had finally switched: Henley's sacrifice somehow turned it around… He was sure that he would rather continue to have the shittiest luck if it meant he wasn't alone anymore…
He imagined that Tartan was in front of him, giving him that trademark smirk and telling him that he would do what he did again and again if he had the chance. Trying to convince him to make another friend, just so that Tartan could destroy them.
It's for your own good. Those were the last words he'd said to Coda before he entered the Arena. Coda believed him, too. How could I be so stupid!?
He violently swatted the nanny cam through the air, trying to release the burning fire in his chest, burning him from the inside out… But he didn't want to imagine himself hurting someone else so badly…
Why not? You've hurt everyone else that you love. Why does it matter anymore? Why does anything matter? Coda couldn't answer those questions. Who would even miss me if I was gone? He didn't know. The only reason he was still moving forward was because of Henley's sacrifice. She must have seen something he didn't see. Coda could only hope.
He stopped swinging the weapon around for a moment to catch his breath. His heart was pounding hard in his chest… Not necessarily from the physical effort.
You have a stump for a leg. Why even try to win? For her. That was reason enough. Wasn't it? He was going to try.
But trying to win the Hunger Games could end in disaster… Coda's limbs grew stiff at just the thought as he packed up his bag. He was able to dump off a lot of stuff that was just taking up extra stuff in his bag, so now the food packets and water canteens were all able to fit nicely.
He had a fire inside of him that made his insides ache… Maybe this was a way to put it out.
Coda put his backpack on his back and looked up at the large door in front of him, engraved with a red heart. He'd been staring it for days, trying to get the courage to go through it… Now was the day, though. He couldn't keep avoiding it.
Avoiding adversity!? What kind of person was Coda?! He never avoided challenges… He always jumped in headfirst. He never thought, he just acted. Why was he so stuck in his own head now?!
He took a deep breath, pushing the thoughts aside, and stubbornly marched forward, into the great staircase. From there, he didn't think. He charged up the stairs, down some, up some, around the dark, winding staircase. He remained alert for any threats, always checking behind himself, and kept on pressing forward.
When the next large door in front of him slid open, the room had brightened up from the dim duskiness he'd woken up to. He slid out of the door as quietly as he could with the clunky-ass prosthetic he always had to drag along with him. He slowly ducked under one of the many tables until he could properly assess the situation.
In the distance, he saw them. They were the first other tributes he'd seen since Henley's death.
Coda's grip tightened on the nanny cam as he squinted across the room, trying to see what was going on. Because of his leg, sneaking wasn't exactly an option.
What are you waiting for? The fire in his chest had a voice, and it whispered in his ears. This is your chance to get revenge for her. One step closer to your real revenge…
Thinking about getting that revenge made Coda's fire burn brighter. His legs twitched, waiting for the command to run into motion, attack this camp, take out at least one of the tributes there… He could imagine himself doing it, the feeling of victory, the relief of the burning in his chest…
But he couldn't make his legs move. He couldn't loosen the stiffness in his arms. His body was locked. Coda had never felt like this before, and he wasn't sure how he could even explain it in words.
This is something I have to do.
Coda took a deep breath, tightening his grip on the weapon.
Three…
Two…
One…
Coda set his body into motion, and started running, weapon held tightly.
He ran the hell away from there.
He couldn't see what they had, but he knew that there were three strong tributes there, and Coda wasn't about to jump into a fight like that. He ducked back under a table, his heart pounding, his hands shaking. He wasn't used to having second thoughts about what he was doing.
For every situation he saw himself winning, there were three in which he saw himself dead. And ultimately, Coda didn't want to die. He didn't want to waste Henley's sacrifice, as was his mantra… But ultimately, Coda was just too afraid to die. He deserved it, sure, for a multitude of reasons… He should be gone in Henley's place, and perhaps if he wasn't so stubbornly afraid, he could have given his life for her, as it should have been. At least she had friends, family back home that were depending on her. Now, even if Coda got out of here wanting to help them, they would never accept him. Why the hell would they, after what he'd done?
Coda released a shaky breath he was holding. He wasn't going to go out doing something stupid. That would give everyone that wronged him the satisfaction they so desperately craved. If Coda wanted to get out of here alive, he had to keep Henley's careful rationality in his head.
He wasn't used to thinking this way… Usually, he stubbornly charged on his first whim.
But if there was one thing this Arena taught him, it was that mere whims were rarely kind.
~.~.
-Mercury Macey, 17, District 1-
He had actually been sleeping pretty well, thanks for asking.
He'd seen tributes crumble at this point in the Games, but he was confident that he wouldn't slip down to the same low. Merc had never really been an emotional type, and he really didn't feel like he was missing anything. After all, Kelwyn had made an ass out of himself the other night: not that Merc particularly blamed him for the very sudden burst of emotion. It wasn't what Merc personally would have done. If Merc were nearly as close with Celestia as Kelwyn was, perhaps he would have been carried to that point of emotion too.
Mercury could make friends: he hadn't much of a choice back home with training. But the Arena wasn't exactly the place with that. Merc was very methodical with the structure of the relationship he had with his allies. With good spirits, but not close. Because of that, he watched the alliance split around him. The District Two tributes hadn't seemed very close until around the time of the party, but Kelwyn and Celestia have always been drawn to the other. Not exactly the pairing Merc would have predicted, but then again, he wasn't about to waste his time thinking about how the tributes were going to pair off.
Instead, he was trying to focus on Victory.
Where Willie was open about her intent to not make friends here, Merc's cold side was far more subtle. Cold at the core, but warm around the edges. He was willing to joke with his allies, share some laughs, but he wasn't about to jump in front of one of them to deflect a projectile. Of course, that wasn't very pertinent right now, considering they were still the strongest group in the Arena, even when they were fragmented by a hunting party and a guarding party.
Things had gotten far more tense between the two pairs ever since Celestia's death scare. Additionally, Mercury wasn't particularly thrilled that Kelwyn lost his: and Merc's: weapon of choice. At least the field was equally crippled, with Arden also losing her knives and Celestia losing the ko-naginatas she'd been using. Now, Mercury had his secondary weapon, a knife, while Kelwyn held onto the sword they'd gotten from Rammie. Arden tried to pull up one of the axes from the ground, but the axes and bows were beyond recovery. The only thing that was salvaged was one pair of nunchucks that they were able to peel off the ground from where the items around it were picked up by the Gamemakers. She had them, but was more apt to use close fighting skills. Remus, the lucky bastard, still had both of his primary weapons.
Merc had breathed a sigh of relief when the Gamemakers chose to take their bags of food, but that apparently didn't matter because Kelwyn still had to go and spin their weapons away. The rug had been swept out from under their feet. Arden had spent the day trying to learn the nunchucks. Kelwyn just looked awkward holding the sword. Celestia so far hasn't even tried for a secondary weapon: she was still feeling pretty crappy from the poison.
They may have been handicapped, but Merc was still confident that they had the strategic knowledge necessary to outdo their competition. After all, how could someone like that girl from Five equal them when they'd all been training for years? It may have happened before, but Merc was confident that this year would see a Career Victory. He had been training for this his whole life, studying diligently, performing well. He was up to the challenge, he knew it. These other tributes simply were not. As shown from the frequent displays of frustration, the tears, the rolling eyes of his allies at their failure to find someone to kill.
Merc's stomach turned slightly at the thought of taking another life. But he simply could not think like this right now, so he pushed down the thought. That was nothing new to him. Ultimately, it was something that would take him out of the running, and Merc wasn't here to fail.
None of us are here to fail. Maybe he would have believed that if not for the giant breakdown the other night.
He was here to make his parents proud. He was here to make Chal proud of him. Merc felt like his heart was being squeezed as he thought about her. Dammit, how he missed her. Nobody in this hellscape would ever be even close to her. She was just the most amazing thing in his life. He loved her so much, and he would be damned if he didn't get back to her. He never got the chance to be with her before he was sent here. Maybe if he'd waited one more year to volunteer, they could have.
No, the Games were what gave him the courage to tell her how he really felt.
He couldn't help but smile when he thought about it. He felt like such a goddamn doofus trying to put his thoughts into words, words that were worthy of falling upon her ears. He couldn't stop blushing… His heart was pounding… He hadn't felt so incredibly nervous in such a long time.
But the way she smiled at him, her green eyes filling with bashful excitement as he was stammering around telling her how beautiful she was… The smile that spread across her lips when he was just trying to get her to understand how deep his feelings for her went… The feeling of her arms wrapped around his neck, Chal standing on her tip-toes to hug him tighter than she ever had before… The tender first kiss they shared as a last goodbye… Probably not the best kisser she'd ever kissed, but the way she smiled and giggled he certainly felt like he was.
He had never felt better than then. He couldn't stop smiling like a moron just thinking about how soft her kiss was, just as he always dreamt it would be. Far better than he had ever dreamt of, in fact.
God, he missed her so badly. He fell slowly from the euphoria of that beautiful feeling, but now that he was apart from her for so long, he craved to feel that way again. He wanted the chance to develop this relationship even more, and he would be damned if he didn't get it.
"Let's get moving," Arden said. Her harsh voice snapped Merc out of the sweet, sweet daydream of his beautiful Chal. It was a hard fall, but Merc tried not to indicate it in his body language.
"Kelwyn, you want to trade me?" Merc asked, holding the knife out to his ally. It was also Kelwyn's secondary weapon, so whichever of them hunted would get it, while the guard had the sword.
"I'll stay back with Celestia for today," he said, holding up a hand to reject the knife. Merc was expecting as much, but he figured he'd at least offer. The Careers headed up the stairs, where they approached the elevator. Merc's stomach dropped when it didn't move at Arden's touch. Arden took a deep breath in through her nose as the announcement came on:
"Good morning tributes. The elevator is up for grabs once again today. Please take your rolls." The dice appeared in front of them and Arden grumbled as she picked up the light brown one.
"Hey, maybe we'll have better luck today," Merc said, rolling his die. He looked at the number and quickly swallowed his previous words at the 8 staring back at him.
"Let's hope," said Arden, giving her die a firm roll, running after it to check out what it said. When she saw it, she let out a whoop.
"What is it?" Remus asked.
"Eighteen!" she called. "Beat that!"
"I'll do my best!" he said, giving the die a roll. When it stopped on 9 though, he pouted. Arden laughed a little.
"I rolled that last time, and still got beat," Merc said, just being realistic. Arden deflated at that as the lights began to flash different colors. Arden's eyes were wide. Merc watched as it slowed down, the light brown light still going… And on the light brown, it stopped. Arden whooped again.
"The tables are turning!" she told them. "Let's go!"
She picked up the card that came out of the die and swiped it. The elevator opened up for them, and Arden stepped inside, the others quickly following.
"We're not getting trapped on the billiard's floor again," she said, pressing the button for the second floor. "We're going to succeed today, I can feel it."
"It does feel like a good day," Remus said, with a relaxed sigh, as the doors slid open.
This floor was one that Merc had not yet been on. It was bright with lights, gold, and colorful panels on the wheels.
"Woah," Remus said.
"Oh yeah," Arden said with a grin. They stepped out, and Mercury's eye was immediately caught by a wheel in front of them. It was by far the largest, and most glorious of them. The top was decorated with stars.
But what drew him most were the words on one of the panel: "Eliminate" and "Supplies." Merc approached without telling the others, but they soon fell into step behind him. The Star Wheel was huge.
"Steal all food from a tribute of choice," Remus said, his eyes widening. "This is outrageously overpowered!"
"I could use the chance to steal all weapons from a tribute of choice," Arden said. "Where's that token Celestia stole?"
"This bag," Merc said, pulling it out of the small pocket of the bag he was holding. "Let's see what this baby can do."
He put the token in the slot and pulled the lever. The lever was stuck. It didn't move at all. "Huh?"
"What the hell?" Arden asked, giving the lever a firm tug, and still no movement. "Did this thing just steal your token?!"
It must have been too good to be true… Merc felt sheepish. Remus leaned in, looking into the slot and probing it with his finger, when suddenly the token shot out of the machine and hit him smack in the eye.
"Augh!" he exclaimed, grabbing his face. Merc picked up the token off the floor, trying not to laugh. Remus wouldn't like it if he laughed, but it was pretty funny.
"I guess it's just out of order," Arden said. "Well, if it doesn't work for us, at least it doesn't work for them either. Let's get going, though. I have a feeling there's plenty for us to explore. Merc put the light gray token back in the bag and followed Arden and Remus, who was grumbling about swelling and holding his face. They weren't exactly sneaky, but they were Careers, they didn't have to be sneaky.
Arden was on the lookout. She checked behind and around the wheels, until she noticed the brown table with the golden plate on it that read "concierge." She went quiet, slowly tip-toeing over. It was certainly a good hiding spot…
"Wait, are those weapons?!" She got distracted suddenly by the sight of a wheel in the distance. "I really could use those…"
"Let's go see what we can win before we try to hunt too much," Merc suggested. Arden, satisfied with this, nodded and straightened up. "Let's just see." Together, the trio walked over to the wheel. Mercury produced the token again, and Arden put it in the slot. This time, at the token being put in, the wheel started spinning rapidly. The allies watched with anticipation as it began to slow… That was, until Arden yelled.
"Behind you!" Merc turned around, and could just barely see the tiny figure that was running away with his water canteen.
"Give me the knife Merc, I can get a good shot with it."
"This is my only defense," he told her. "You said you'd use your hands."
"I need the projectile!"
Remus grabbed the throwing starts and started on the chase and Arden yelled again. "MERCURY! SHE'S GETTING AWAY!" Suddenly, Arden lunged at him, grabbing for the knife, and Mercury held it out of her reach, which caused her to let out a yell.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain on his ankles, dropping to his knees. Arden grabbed at the knife, and Merc tried to keep it out of her hands. He could feel the pressure of skin being broken as she grabbed at the blade, still yelling. All of the noise faded together as Merc felt another pain, this time right on his crotch. Merc let out a choked scream and the knife clattered out of his hands and onto the floor. He heard panting behind him, and a quiet sight.
"I couldn't get her," he said. "She was too far away when we found her, there was no way I could have gotten her."
Arden let out a yell of frustration and Mercury felt another sharp pain, this time right through his chest. As if his body didn't accept what was happening, Merc tried to sit up, but his next breath filled his throat with warm, metallic liquid. Another piercing scream filled his ears as pain exploded again into his chest, and another time… Merc was seeing red, but his body still wasn't ready to give up as he remembered the soft warmth of Chal's embrace…
She will be proud of me.
Merc's vision started to go white as he choked and sputtered, feeling another firm hit on his head that left him unable to get up, unable to move. As he was coughing up the last mouthful of blood his body could afford to lose, he heard one last statement from his killer.
"No way in hell we're going back to camp."
Boom!
~.~.
A/N: This is always a tough way to end a chapter… And we are now down to 13! We are so close to halfway through, really going for that slow burn lol. Anyways, hope you enjoyed this somewhat more reflective chapter!
CQ: Will this new Star Wheel shake up the game? Why can the Careers not spin it?
Eulogies:
14th Place: Mercury Macey, District 1- Stabbed by Arden Rivendell, D2
The decisions continue to be extremely difficult! So many of these tributes deserved to be over the halfway point, but unfortunately they can't all. Mercury was a lot of fun to tap into, having that relationship with your best friend while also being so very focused on your life aspirations. He saw the Games as a challenge to better himself. Sadly, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time, and the weapons didn't work out so well. He unfortunately will never get to have the life with Chal that he so badly wanted. She'll still be proud of him, and miss him so terribly. Thanks for this boy, Jack! I had a lot of fun with him.
See you for the next chapter!