Hi... It's been a while. I am so sorry. It's been a pretty rough patch in my life, and I could barely handle my own life let alone the lives of all these character, but you don't need excuses. Well, I'm sorry all the same. TBITW really close to the end, but I just couldn't wrap my mind around any of it. So, took a break. It lasted a little longer than I had hoped, but it wasn't fair to anyone for me to write at my worst. Anyways, I'm back, and want to start updating more frequently, no guarantee though. My life has been insanely busy for the past little while. This is also quite a bit shorter than anything else I've written so far, but progress is progress, right?
Chapter 36- Day 10
Mica Lee, D9F:
Since I killed Athena Lightes from 3, I haven't stopped moving. Getting as far away from the edge of the arena as I can, I got to the clearing where the cornucopia stood abandoned. Sure, the dried blood all over the grass gathered gnats, and certain areas of grass were torn up and covered in mud and strewn earth, but far as I was concerned it was like a sanctuary.
I was careful as I stepped out of the woods, looking around to see if I had missed any enemies. I hadn't. In the mouth of the cornucopia stands a tall bare framed metal table. Items lay strewn all over the top. The chaos spoke measures of what had happened since the feast.
Why would anyone leave this? It is exactly what you need to survive the hunger games. It has food, water, weapons. It's my oasis. I heard the crunch of plastic and sleuthing else beneath my feet. It's a small package of crackers. They were crushed into small, jagged pieces under my boot. In one movement, I have the bag in my hands and ripped open. They were coated in salt, and it burned the inside of my mouth and throat as it went down. A jug of water lay on its side right beside it. The panem seal was melted into the plastic side. A few empty canteens were inside the cornucopia, and I managed to pour myself a bottle-full. The water was warm and utterly disgusting, but at least it was clean. So, I sit down on the upturned soil, resting against the cornucopia. The sun is beating down on my head and radiating off the metal at my back. It stings but the pain is kind of soothing.
I gave myself only an hour or so to relax. Then, it was time to work. If I was going to stay here, I'd need to set up some precautions. Someone else might do exactly what I did and that's why I had to get to work. I spent the rest of the day setting up traps all around the clearing. Some basic and not-so-basic snares that were strong enough to hold any game, human or otherwise. After a few more hours, and a lot more sweat, I was done. I reapplied the balm once more to my arm. The wound was practically gone now. That's when I remember the river. Of course. I had followed it for a reason. After rushing back to the cornucopia and finding a canteen, return to the mouth of the stream and carefully fill it.
Whoever left here was a real idiot. Because I know someone had been back here, a lot of the supplies were missing, a rotten apple sitting near my foot. I squash it beneath my boot. The sound is more of a gush than the crunch of an apple. It's been at least 2 days since it was left. 2 days. I should be fine here. At least, for a little while.
"I could get used to this."
Drake Ru, D5M:
It never crossed my mind that there would be alliances this late in the game. Yet, I heard two distinct voices cross the path beside me. They were in pleasant conversation, if not so much about peasant things. But one thing is sure, they won't be killing each other anytime soon. Meaning they were out to kill me.
Sure, not me in particular, but the general idea of me. The other tributes. Well, they'll have to catch me first. And I'm a pretty fast runner.
"Who do you think we'll find?"
"It doesn't matter. I'll kill them."
"So sure, are we?"
Back and forth they went. I was too scared to move, fearing that any shifting of my weight would break a branch. Just the crunch of the ground beneath me could alert these killers to their prey. I just need to calm down. I need to calm down. But my heart won't let me. I feel it pounding in my throat. The thrilling feeling of adrenaline rushing through my body. It's just their words, and the tree at my back and the pounding of my heart. Nothing else. They suddenly go silent. The pounding of their feet leading away.
I wait until it seems safe. Turning around, I'm stopped dead in my tracks by the looming figure in front of me. A strong hand takes a death grip on my throat.
"See," I see a girl step in around the other, her dull red hair sparkling in the sun, "I told you someone was watching us."
"It's you." His voice is a wicked hiss in my ear, "it was your fault."
I would've asked what he meant, but his hand was currently crushing my windpipe. My vision is going fuzzy around the edges, the girl in the background disappearing. So, this is how I die.
Winstead Dale, D11M:
I could just end his miserable life right now. Snap Drake Ru's neck and be done with it. But he doesn't get off that easily. Not after Abilene. She's dead. Dying. In my arms again. Poisoned. By this boy I have weak as a rag doll. How could someone so powerless do something so evil? Murder. How can I? No. this is right. I am right. All for Abilene.
His fingers try to pry me off him, but they're weak as the rest of him. No match for the blazing anger heating to my core. His blood will stain the ground red. I swear it. He's sputtering now. Finally, he gets out what he's been trying to say.
"What do you want?" he can barely breathe. Good.
The words are pleasant, "You're death. For Abilene."
"Who?" He's cut off by his own shrieking. It might have something to do with the fact that I just broke his nose. His body hits the ground hard and fast.
I like it. He's scrambling on the ground, trying to get to his feet. But I can't relent, not now. I won't. So I keep hitting him. Nasty punches landing wherever I can land them. My kicks become stronger the longer this goes on. I love this feeling rushing through me, even as I split my knuckles on his jaw. The pain is the best part. His as well as mine. The struggle is over in a matter of minutes. But I didn't stop until the canon cut me off. I froze, looking down to see the bloodied body underneath me. He had curled up into himself, protecting his body. I suppose it was the kick to the head that finally finished him off. Those unseeing eyes gaze out into world, seeing everything and nothing at all. I have avenged Abilene. Cut another like short to make up for hers unceremoniously cut all too short. So why do I still feel so empty?
"Wow, I'm impressed. Turns out lover-boy is a monster after all. Who would have thought it?" Rusty looked over the body, "You did a real number on the poor guy, too. Broke his nose, both arms, his leg, and at least two of his ribs. Scraped him up pretty bad too. Must have done your knuckles just as bad." She suddenly grabbed my hands, turning them up. She looked at the cuts all over my knuckles. From his cheekbone and the blunt force applied with every wicked blow.
"It's just that easy." The moment I said it, she froze. She went completely stiff. Dead in the eyes. She spun on her heel, swiftly walking away from me and the body on the ground.
"Where are you going?"
"Away from you!" She stops, turning back to me. She has a blade pressed to my throat in an instance.
"Follow me, and I swear to God I'll slit your miserable throat." So I wait.
"Will you be back?"
"Maybe." She disappears into the brush. I had done it. I had broken Amber Steele. How?
…
She was back. A few hours later, just as the sun began to set. By then the fire in my stomach had cooled. She didn't speak, just sat down and turned away from me. It wasn't for the next five minutes that I realized how much it hurt me. What had I done to deserve this? Why do I care about what Rusty Steele thinks of me? Why should I? I don't have an answer. I need an answer.
Dawn Night, D10F:
I heard the snap of a branch behind me. Whipping around I saw nothing in the dark, even with the warm light from the fire shining all around me. It wasn't even that hard, considering the practice I got in training. Even. By the time I got it lit I had worked up a heavy sweat. Yes, it was stupid, you should never light a fire in the arena -it's a literal homing beacon- but I don't care. In fact, I was kind of hoping someone would come. Get one step closer to seeing district 10 again. To seeing Sue. But that was an hour ago. Now, I feel my palms get all sweaty and a stomach twisting up with nerves. I might throw up. Not like I've eaten anything to throw up, but still.
I try to calm down, but my heart won't let me. All the same, I clench my knife in a tight fist. I hope no one on the tv sees how shaky my hands are. Wiping the sweat off along my thighs, I walk to the other side of the fire, trying to erase all fear from my voice.
"I- I can hear you!" It's a loud whisper, no one beyond the fire could hear it. But I'm sure someone did. Someone had to. I keep pacing, quiet and quick, circling the fire. They'll have to come out to play sometime.
"I know you're there. Do you want to finish this, or what?"
The arm reached around from behind me. The hand was small and fast, getting an iron grip on my wrist of the hand with the knife. I turn to it, trying to get my arm away and take a swing with the blade. I would've too, if the other hand hadn't directed the bladder right under my rib cage. Up and under. Genius. Murderous.
The pain was immediate, but I didn't understand until I looked down and saw the knife hilt-deep in my body. Mine. I was sent dripping to my knees, my stupid heart still trying to hold out. I don't have the strength to pull the knife out.
"I'm sorry," I look up to see the pale face of a girl flickering with emotions and the reflection of the fire. That was before I felt myself give out.
Rusty Steele, D2F:
"It's just that easy."
Everything about that moment was uncannily similar to the last time I saw Kaz. That hard set of his eyes. The eerie calm of his smile. I hadn't seen Winstead or Kaz that calm ever. Until the day they would both die. For Kaz, it was years ago. For Winstead, it's today. Vengeance is a powerful tool. It drives you insane with want, but leaves you empty after you finally get it. He doesn't seem crazy now. He just seems sad.
I have to kill him. Simple as that. Sure, we've had some fun, but this is still a game. A game I intend on winning. Too bad me winning means Winstead loses. The only question is how I snuff out his little light. I could go the easy, predictable route, and take him out in combat. But I couldn't do that. No, I won't. I can do everything I put my mind to. A fight would only last as long as I saw fit. Then, the canon would boom, and I'd have more blood on my hands, and just like that Winstead Dale would be gone. Just another name on the list of deceased tributes.
But that feels a little… cruel. He's gone through enough already. Huh. Who would have ever thought? Me, with an ounce of humane sympathy. That's laughable, at best. Still, I'm not going to fight him, but I certainly can't keep him around. He's too much of a reminder. I don't want to see any more of Kaz than what plagues me in the night. No, the time to act is now.
He sitting on the damp earth, turned away from me. I don't know what he's looking at, but it doesn't matter. The pliable grip between my fingers leads to the wicked edge of a six inch blade is comfortable. A pleasant reminder of who I am and what I want. This will all be over soon. Just the flick of my wrist and it'll all be over. This evil weakness taking root inside me will vanish right along with the body.
It seems as though he's trying to disappear. Sink right into the earth and never be seen again. I'll slit his throat. Right now. I would've too, if my own feet hadn't messed me up. I was cursing myself and him as I fumbled a step.
He jumped as I stumbled into his back, getting to standing. He looms over me. I was still in disbelief over what happened. I messed up. Me! Rusty Steele never messes. Yet, at a crucial moment, I practically tumbled over my target. My undoing was a rock, an inanimate object!
"You okay?" His voice is hoarse, and I clear my own throat making sure my own voice isn't as bad.
"Yeah, fine." I shrug, hiding the knife behind my back. At that moment I realized he had his hands were both gripping my shoulders. The touch was more reassuring than I would like to admit. I hate how gentle he can be. He killed someone today, yet they aren't cold and hard with hatred like the rest of him. Spots of blood dot his clothes and skin. Drake Ru's blood under his fingernails. It would repulse anyone, anyone but me that is.
I should kill him, right here, right now. We're close, so close I feel his hot breath on my face. He'd never see it coming. If I wanted to, I could kiss him right now. What would it feel like? Kissing him. Kissing anyone for that matter. The thought crossed my mind just as I found myself leaning into him. What am I doing? It doesn't matter. My eyes involuntarily close as our lips meet.
I've never understood the fascination with kissing and other non-verbal signs of affection. They've always felt needless. But this… well it's certainly un-necessary, but I don't know if I hate it. A part of me loves it. Another part of me is asking what's going on. It seems neither knows what's happening.
His hands are still on my shoulders, so I feel as they tense up, only to relax again. That was before he pushed me away. Maybe if I was in my right mind, I could have stopped this all before it got to this point. Before I feel too unnerved to look Winstead in the eyes. No, that's stupid. Crazy. I'm not scared of Winstead, of what he thinks about me. He should be scared of me.
"Rusty? I…" I finally met his eyes. I don't like the expression on his face, what I can see of it in the dark. What I do see if riddled with mortification, "What the hell!" Whatever. It was worth a shot. I still don't see the big deal. Then why is my heart pounding? It's the adrenaline. Then why is my vision going blurry? Shut up. I'm telling my thoughts to shut up. I don't need to explain myself to myself.
"Get some sleep. I'll take first watch." I turn away, not letting him see the hurt on my face. No one gets to see me like this.
"Wait, Abilene!" His hand is tight on my wrist, pulling me back.
"Did you just call me Abilene. I-" I was about to press the issue, but then he was kissing me back. I should be angry, I should just kill him right now. Too bad the handle is already slipping from my fingertips. There goes my plan. What plan?
His hands are in my hair, body pressed against mine. My hands press into his shoulder. This doesn't feel real. It's not. It can't be. This is just a dream. I'm going to wake up at any moment.
Any. Moment.
But it doesn't come. So, I pull away. My head feels fuzzy. We're no longer connected, but I'm still just inches away from him.
"Why? What?" He stops, taking in heaving breaths. "What did we just do?" I can't answer. I don't know what the answer is. Instead, I slap him hard enough to send him sailing to the ground.
"That," I say, feeling myself go weak in the knees, "Is for calling me Abilene." I didn't even hit him that hard. But I like this better. I like being in control of this situation. Besides, I could have done a lot more damage. He could have done a lot more damage.
"You can make it up to me by taking first watch. I'm exhausted," and a liar. I don't sleep a wink all night. Especially after I heard the canon.
Lillith Sparks, D5F:
I finally did it. I killed someone. And I did it with their own knife. The girl's eyes are open wide, blankly staring into open space. One eye was darker than the night sky. The other paler than the fake moon projected into the sky. The eyes are eerie, haunting. Yet, I can't bring myself to close them. I did this, I should deal with the aftermath.
The knife is covered with her thick red blood, and I am currently trying to get rid of all of the blood in a nearby stream. in the cold water of the stream. My hands go in next, turning the water a rusty pink colour that churns my stomach. I got most of it off, yet I still feel it all over my hands. The smell lingers on my clothes. Rust, sweat and dirt.
I leave the body to be picked up in another few minutes, stumbling blindly in the dark. The panem anthem fills the air as the hovercraft appears, projecting the seal into the air. The face and district number following just about stops my heart. Drake. Drake Ru is dead, 'District 5' emblazoned underneath his face. He's dead, too. The only other chance I had of saving my family. If I couldn;t win, I would've wanted him to do it for me.
The second face appeared. The girl lying in a pool of her own blood at this very moment. She looks so lively in the picture. Aggressively staring down the camera, chalening it. Challenging me. Her knife is in my hands as District 10 fades away. Once again, I am left in darkness.
At least now I have a weapon. That;s better than nothing. Then again, a lot of things are better than nothing. Being safe at home, seeing my friends again, just going back to district 5. A lot of things are worse, too. Like being in a game of war, where the only prize is leaving with your life. Being held against your will, beaten and cut, where all you can do is sit there and take it. Being stared down by the person you just murdered.
Murder. I murdered someone, and I don't even know her name. Even so, the memories of tonight will stay burned into my memories, as long as I'm alive. Which, depending on the results of the next few days, might not be very long. All I need now is to know her name.
Georgia Dale, District 11
"Hey, Georgia," I look up from my trembling hands to see Barric, holding his hand out for me. I take it, and he helps me to my feet.
"What were you doing?" his voice wavers over the words. That's when I see how red his eyes are, and how blotchy his skin is. Crying again. I can hardly blame him. That was me a few days ago. But now… now, I don't know.
"Nothing," I give him my answer, squeezing his hand slightly to reassure him. That was as close to the truth as I felt like getting into at the moment. Every muscle in my body stood at attention, tensing so hard I was shaking all over. Barric didn't notice. He was too busy wiping away any remaining tears. My interview would be at any moment now. And I was very late. A Capitolite assistant found us quickly. I wanted nothing more than the wipe that stupid expression off of the man's face. But I didn't, following behind him, silent and grudging. We're led through a door to the area in the wings of the stage. Where we all stood a few days ago. But today, I go alone.
"Please welcome back, Georgia Dale!" I take a moment to recollect myself, sliding both clenched fists into my pockets. Doing my best to wipe and hostility off my face, I step out onto the stage. I'm more prepared for it this time, but it's no less jarring. The people all staring at me, the empty chair waiting for me. I can already feel myself breaking out into a cold sweat.
"Hello Rexa. it's nice to see you again." She's responsible for all of this. Well, maybe not her, but everything she stands for. It's Rexa Corsan and the people like her that put my brother in the hunger games. The reason my brother became a murderer. I despise that word. Murderer.
"Hello, hello," she's wearing a different dress today. A disgusting orange that matched her hair perfectly. I don't hear what else she says, just smiles and nods, trying not to cry. Or punch her in the face. Either way, I was on the verge of doing both. Possible at the same time.
Murderer. Monster. Hideous Capitolite. Grotesque…
Dear god, what's happening to me? I don't like it. I don't like rage. I can already feel myself dashing into melancholy sadness. That's when I have to get off the stage. I don't want the whole country to see me burst j to tears. This is all Winsteads doing. Except, I can't blame him. No, it's the capital that did this. These freaks that watch bloodsport for entertainment. That did this to me, to Winstead and Abilene.
The brother I knew is dead- he died right along with Abilene. I don't know who this boy is, but he isn't my Winstead. And it's because of them.
Basically, everyone is screwed at this point. Alive or dead. I have the feeling some of you will hate me for what I wrote here, but others will love it. The joy of writing. Until next time.
Eulogies
The fallen of day 10
6: Drake Ru, D5M (0 kills)
Killed by Winstead Dale
I really liked Drake. He was an underdog, and just a really sweet character. But he just wasn't meant to be in the finale. I'm really sorry. At first I really did think he had a chance, but he wasn't the best. Plus, a psychopath was kind of after him so… yeah, no escaping that.
5: Dawn Night (1 kill)
Killed by Lillith Sparks
She was my second choice for victor. She was first for a while, but I felt "winning for love" was a little cliche. So she died. This was probably one of the sadder -for me at least- deaths over the course of this fic, and I really don't want to see her go, but it was her time. So unfortunately, I must say goodbye.
Tributes remaining:
Rusty Steele (D2F), Lillith Sparks (D5F), Mica Lee (D9F), Winstead Dale (D11M)
