Clemencia Leocadia, District 10

Pain. Clemencia's thoughts hardly stray from the one thing that she can't escape from.

Rain. Shortly after the last cannon, the Gamemakers allowed it to rain. It pleased Clemencia. It rejuvenated her, brought new life into her. Distracted her, even. At least for a little bit.

The rain caused the sand to be muddy. Clemencia treks through it, wanting to find shelter for the night.

She finds herself scratching at her wrist. It's swollen from the pain, from the scratches. But she doesn't stop.

Lights. Clemencia watches as a large beam of light appears in the sky. Her eyes follow it back to its origin. A lighthouse.

Shelter. Clemencia changes her path to get to the lighthouse. She tries to avoid walking completely out in the open, for fear of an attack. Not fear of pain, or death, but the fear of what she would do if she had the opportunity to hurt somebody.

She reaches the lighthouse. A quick search around it and Clemencia finds the door. She pulls on it. Nothing. She tries pushing. It feels like something is pushing against her from the other side. Locked. But by who?

Clemencia slams her body against the door. She feels the pain. But she doesn't stop.

Again, and again, and again, Clemencia throws herself against the door of the lighthouse. With every bit of pain, she feels the door weakening.

With one last push, the door gives in. She collapses on top of it, inside of the lighthouse. There's a pain in her shoulder.

She stands and looks up. Nothing.

She begins to climb the stairs, but a noise alerts her to a presence up above. Could it be another tribute? Or maybe a mutt sent by the Gamemakers to try and kill her?

Clemencia reaches the top of the lighthouse. She sees a small boy struggling with the light. He freezes when he notices Clemencia in the room with him.

The boy is about to open his mouth when Clemencia jumps over to him. She gets him in a chokehold and punches his face, a punch that stuns him. The action excites Clemencia.

She drags him over to the stairs and pushes him down the lighthouse. She watches as he hits the ground, ending his screams. The cannon shortly follows.


Warren Faulkner, District 11

Warren sits on the hard wood floor of the cabin he has taken residence in. He rests his back on the wall, facing the only entrance into the building.

Warren is one of the lucky few, and he knows it. His cabin was filled with a plentiful amount of water and food, along with a rope and a knife, all able to be carried in the large back pack there as well.

Warren worries about how the audience views him. He wonders what the other tributes are up to. Are they keeping the audience engaged? Warren knows he hasn't done anything of interest, especially after finding his current hideout. Sure, he set up a snare not too far from him, but the Games have never been known for their entertainment in survivability. What the Capitol needs is action.

But what are his options? He could hunt for other tributes, play offensively. But the Careers are likely to be doing that, and they will easily over power him. And how many other tributes could he run into that may provide to be a larger threat than anticipated?

Warren stands to stretch out his body as his mind runs through all the various possibilities. He tries to think back to previous games, there's always at least one running on TV back home.

Home. Warren thinks about home. His parents, and his brother, and even the butcher. Warren didn't like too many people back home, but he really did care about them, and he knows they cared about him as well. He knows they'll be watching. He has to stay strong for them. At the minimum, he needs to appear strong.

Warren takes a few drinks of water. He gathers his things before leaving the safety of his cabin to hopefully spark some interest in the Capitol that won't result in his death.


Mathias Hayes, District 12

Mathias circles his cabin, afraid to stray too far. He holds a hand crafted spear in one hand, eyes fixated on a rabbit about a dozen feet ahead of him. With each step Mathias takes, he gets more and more excited for the kill.

He throws the spear into the body of the rabbit. It squeals as blood leaks from the wound. Mathias rushes over to it and snaps its neck.

He pulls the spear out and takes the rabbit back to his cabin. He starts a small fire and cooks the rabbit.

I wonder if my mother is watching. Mathias thinks to himself. He tries to distract himself with happier thoughts, but happy thoughts don't come easy in the arena.

Once the rabbit is cooked, Mathias kicks out the fire. Luckily for him, the smoke isn't too strong and the foliage from the trees should protect him. At least, that's what Mathias hopes.

Mathias goes back inside his cabin and begins eating the rabbit. He finds it too difficult to skin with a spear, so he does his best to rip the rabbit apart. He feels a wave of relief with each bite, the meal rejuvenating him.

Mathias might have lost hope before, but now he is stronger, more confident. He believes he will be the winner of the 50th Hunger Games.


Lancia Audren, District 2

Lancia sits in the center of the cornucopia by herself as the anthem plays. Two faces appear in the sky, Burgundy from District 8 and Aristotle from District 9. She isn't phased by either death.

Lancia looks over to her right and sees Sabrina sitting beside her.

"Hi." Sabrina says.

"Hi." Lancia says softly.

"How are you feeling?" Sabrina asks. Lancia shrugs.

"I don't want to be here, but I am. I don't know. Everything is so confusing." Lancia mutters.

A series of rustling Lancia and Sabrina glance into the forest. Lancia grabs her weapon and tenses up. She lets out a sigh of relief when the group of Careers emerge through the bushes.

Most of them ignore Lancia, except Casper, who takes a seat next to her.

"How was it?" Lancia asks. Casper shrugs.

"There was nothing out there. Crane killed the boy from Eight, but Alexandrine, Blade and I didn't see anyone."

"Hm." Lancia says. She glances over to where Sabrina was sitting, but she's vanished.

"Yeah. Hopefully today was interesting enough for the Gamemakers." Casper sighs. Lancia nods.

She doesn't want interesting. She wants to disappear into the world, away from the cameras and staring eyes. But she acknowledges that it's too late for that luxury.


Hey all, I want to apologize for taking so long with this chapter. I've lost motivation for this story, and I'm not sure if I'll be able to finish it. I'm going to do my best, as I do have it planned out and a victor in mind.

Please review! It will help me stay motivated to write.

DEATHS

48th: Nat Ali (D5F)

47th: James Holden (D3M)

46th: Max Wingfield (D3M)

45th: Pandora Vivenne-Sherman (D8F)

44th: Tatum Murray (D9F)

43rd: Travis Arbroath (D9M)

42nd: Aeryn Malvo (D6F)

41st: Quinn Effex (D5F)

40th: Aaran Surge (D6M)

39th: Casper Seabird (D5M)

38th: Magnolia Appleton (D11F)

37th: Filly Detroit (D11F)

36th: Fawn Hill (D12F)

35th: Clyde Fermini (D12M)

34th: Holly James (D7F)

33rd: Ivy David (D11F)

32nd: Ferris Marlowe (D3F)

31st: Zay Gaura (D11M)

30th: Eddie Francie (D5M)

29th: Burgundy Mulligan (D8M)