I needed to do these POVs to set up a lot of action for the future. But I AM aware Caio is overdue for a POV and he's coming next time.

OTHELLA FLINE- Paloma Bennett

I tore my eyes away from the picture and looked at my allies with dread. They were all looking away as well. None of them were looking at me with the condemnation I'd dreaded. They didn't know, then. In the chaos and panic, they didn't know that the reason I'd been able to come pull Yttria free was that I let go of Othella. It was a guilt I'd carry to my grave alone.

Visenya Lloyd- District Nine female

"Did you ever think you'd get Reaped?" I asked Linden. "I mean, really?"

"My family thought we were exempt," Linden said. "We worked closely with the Capitol and had a lot of influence. Guess their loyalty didn't run that deep."

"I've seen people die, but I guess I was too young to think it could happen to me," I said. It wasn't uncommon for someone to collapse in the fields. Most of the time they get better, but I'd seen three people go down and not get up. In hindsight I shouldn't have felt too young to die, since one of the fatalities I'd seen was an eleven-year-old to heatstroke.

"It seems a lot more real now. Whether I live or die, I'm an adult now," Linden said.

"Do you think-" I started.

Linden shot to his feet, waving his arms for balance. I followed where his face was pointed as he stumbled backwards.

Back when I was home, every once in a while, a house centipede would scurry out from under a cabinet and I'd be reminded that I shared the planet with those horrible things. Bile rose in my mouth and tears sprang to my eyes when I saw I shared an Arena with one. Its body was as long and as thick around as an anaconda. Its metallic legs piled up beside each other, each bent in the middle and pointed at the end.

I was aware of Linden as I ran, though I didn't remember starting to run. The mutt's front pair of legs twitched. Then it moved with the panicky swiftness of a spider. Its legs upon legs surged over each other like waves with the wrongness of a creeping insect.

When Linden and I rounded a corner, I saw a pile of rocks and threw myself behind it. Linden crouched in beside me. We both shared a human instinct for hiding and hoping to be overlooked. A second later I was sick to my stomach at the realization. Cave animals didn't use sight to hunt.

The centipede mutt came into view. I tensed to jump up and run. Linden followed suit. But the centipede wasn't running. It reared up, giving me a sickening view of its underside. Its front legs swiped at the air. It came back to ground and was still. It took a few skittering steps to one side and waved its antennae. It wheeled around on itself and took a few steps the other way.

Of course. It doesn't use sight. It feels vibration. I sensed Linden had come to the same conclusion. Then its antennae twitched and I realized we might not be out of the woods yet. If I remembered my elementary school biology right, ants used antennae to sense pheromones. As in, scent. Scent it was methodically checking the tunnel for.

I nudged Linden and slowly stood up. He followed, quizzically tapping my shoulder. I took a step, carefully spreading out my weight and moving gently. The mutt continued its pattern without notice. I shook with fear as we started to make a necessarily slow escape. With each step I was sure it would feel my pounding heart and pounce on us like something that lived under a bed.

Soon we'd gained some distance from the mutt. Still, I didn't think I would ever feel safe. When I looked behind us, it was still hunting. Even without our footsteps it still had our scent. I didn't know how long that carried or if it would ever give up.

Gavin Booth- District Ten male

We'd killed a human being. A Career, sure. Someone who was trying to kill us, sure. But all that didn't change the human lying dead. She was a person. Her name was Seychelle and she was a human being. I'd only thrown the rocks because I was afraid of what she'd do if she got up. I thought of the rock leaving my hand and what it did to her. I don't think I'll ever play baseball again, I thought.

Enzo was hurting. I looked away from Seychelle's body and tried to focus on my ally. His arms were crisscrossed with slices that exposed flesh on the right and what looked like bone on the left. He was whimpering as he tried to close them.

"Are you okay?" I asked. I knew it was a stupid question. It was just something to say. I shoved down my guilt and averted my eyes as I tore strips from Seychelle's shirt. We got Enzo's arms covered and the blood staunched, but it was a pathetic attempt. His arms were shredded. I was surprised he could still move his fingers. If he didn't get serious medical aid, our silly bandages would be for nothing. They'd get infected and they'd get worse and worse until he died.

"Maybe someone will send something," I said.

"They won't," Enzo said. "And I can't wait." He picked up Seychelle's sword.

"What are you doing?" I asked. I wished I'd spoken up earlier. This hadn't been a good idea. I should have been braver and stopped it. Then none of this would have happened. But I couldn't have foreseen what he was about to do next. When I realized, my mind went soft and the words left my mouth. Then he did it, and all I could do was watch.

Elissa de Angelo- District One female

After the cannon maybe half an hour ago, the night had been quiet. I was on watch while the others were out hunting. Caio and Donnatella had paired up, leaving Atticus and Grande as an odd couple. I thought it was cute how Caio and Donnatella got along so well. They were such opposites. Donnatella was a levelheaded, mature young mother. Caio was a mercurial hedonist. He was destined to be the next in what I suspected was a long line of bachelors. And it wasn't a romantic thing, not at all. They were just friends and I was happy for them.

A soccer-ball-sized rock flew in from one of the corridors leading out from the Cornucopia, landing not far from my feet. I stood up quickly, ready to identify and engage a threat. But no one was there. I could tell where the rock must have come from, but the passage, which kinked shortly after it began, was empty until that point.

I looked back at the rock. In the dim light, it looked... mossy? I walked closer to inspect the curious tendrils that hung off of it.

If I'd been someone else, I would have dropped the throwing knife I held. The Career in me clutched the weapon to my midsection instead.

Seychelle's head lay tilted on one cheek in the dirt. Her mouth hung open. Her hair lay listlessly against her severed neck, indistinguishable from the dangling viscera.

Who would do this? Careers hunted, but this was so far beyond that. Mutilating a body, hacking off a head, carrying it like a sodden trophy. And what they did to her... the cuts etched into her forehead.

YOURE NEXT, her skin read.

My skin clamped tight on my body as I straightened and looked down the tunnel. I was a Career, but I couldn't rush in. Whoever did this was strong enough to kill Seychelle. She was a formidable Career. More formidable in some ways than I was, I was secure enough to admit. There had to be a lot of them, or they had some advantage that overpowered years of training. Rushing in and getting myself killed to prove a point about Career prowess wasn't going to do anything for me. Careers win by strategy, not weapons. I picked a tunnel and started backing toward it, alternating checking in front of and behind me. I'd go a little stretch down the tunnel, peek around the corner, and see who came out to loot the Cornucopia. Then I'd either engage or wait for backup.

Did I mention the Powerpuff girls got a molotov cocktail sponsored to them? Because they did.