Chapter Twenty-Seven.

Bloodbath.

Twenty-four metal pedestals fixed into place.

Atop them, the tributes stood in a circle, perfectly spaced around the magnificent golden horn. The Cornucopia was filled with an assortment of everything someone would need to do well in The Hunger Games. As the sixty-second countdown began to boom into every corner of the Arena and every television screen across Panem, each tribute took in their surroundings.

It had only been early morning when they'd been shipped from the Capitol but here the sky was dark; a night-time canvas with stars that peppered the glorious open air. The moon was bright and brilliant aglow above their heads. One could be forgiven for finding it so beautiful.

Around them, again in a circle set far back, tall oak trees with branches and leaves that loomed into the sky were packed so closely together no tribute could see between them. For now, they were in an enclosed area, with the Cornucopia the clear focus for the tributes.

It was set in the centre of a field, with jet-black grass that twisted and curled to just above their feet level. Each and every single one of the tributes looked around them and were dazzled by the small specks of yellow and gold that glistened and stood out in the cool, dark air. Fireflies that nestled amongst the grass and flitted between each bloom of green.

The entire scene could be mistaken for one of tranquillity. Peace. Beauty.

Then the countdown reached a higher crescendo, and each one of them focused back in on the golden horn, all with a story behind them and futures unknown.

24…

Chancellor's eyes fell on the bow, slap bang in the middle of the Cornucopia, and grinned happily. He couldn't give a shit about some pretty fireflies buzzing around him. They were irritating. Useless. The Arena served only one purpose and he didn't care what the Gamemakers filled it with. His eyes gazed around the ring of tributes and saw, with delight, the irritating girl from Seven – Sinta, all smiles but now nothing but tears – shivering on her pedestal not too far from him. Perfect.

23…

Linnea could see Britta but not Neviya. Her fingers opened and closed by her side and she ignored the nervous feeling in her stomach. It had been nice to sit with her friends that morning, surrounded by beauty, but this was now her time to focus. If she let that go, she could die. She couldn't let that happen.

22…

Roarke's stomach was awash with regret over everything that had happened so far. He could see Neviya and Destan and he knew where his mind and heart both wanted to take him. In opposite directions. I made my choice, Roarke thought sadly. And I must stick by it.

21…

Neviya's red mane of hair stood out amongst the golden glow of the fireflies. Next to her, the quivering, fearful boy from Twelve shivered and she felt a pang of guilt. Poor boy, he didn't choose this. She could allow herself such emotions as long as they didn't cloud her judgement the second the gong sounded. It was time to do what had to be done. Kill or be killed.

20…

Nikos had volunteered for this shit and standing here, surrounded by weaponry designed to kill him, he had no fucking idea why he'd done it. He felt a fool. More than a fool. If he could turn back time he would, but it was too late. It was time to knuckle down. Fight. Kill, if he had to. Volunteering had been a mistake, but his future could still be brighter than his past. He'd give anything to make it home.

19…

Albie gave Armina a small wave. She couldn't see Shual but that didn't faze Albie. In and out, they'd said. Get what they needed and quickly disappear together. The trees looked foreboding but she couldn't deny the beauty that surrounded them. She had a job to do, today: survive. She could worry about tomorrow later. Right now – priority number one. Get out alive.

18…

Destan spotted a spear not too far from where he stood. The sight of the weapon filled him with an anxious sort of feeling that made him angry at himself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. This was no time to allow himself any shred of regret or self-hatred over the choices he'd made. Maybe it would have been easier to play along and take out Chancellor. But it was too late. He had to find his allies and do what needed to be done. Time to fit the one image he'd never been able to nail correctly: time to be a Career.

17…

Britta's eyes met Linnea and she gave her ally a friendly nod. First things first, they would find Neviya. Then they would fulfil their role and kill. Britta's gut told her that the idea of killing actually didn't sound as easy as she'd kidded herself into believing it would be. She could see Chancellor grinning at a poor tribute not too far from where he stood and didn't understand the pure glee that radiated through him. I'm not Chancellor, Britta thought. But I can still win this.

16…

Teak's breakfast came up, right there and then, light chunks showering the grass in front of him. For a moment, panic flared in his mind that the mines would go off, but nothing happened. He felt queasy. Light-headed. Absolutely terrified. He caught eyes with Bryce and his friend gave him a thumbs-up, mouthing a question he couldn't make out. The fear felt overwhelming, but he held onto it, determined to use it as fuel to survive. The other option was to give up. He couldn't do that.

15…

Henley's head whizzed around as she tried to spot a med-pack. Then she felt guilty. She hadn't bothered to look for Iva or Damon. The mindset she was slowly growing accustomed to felt strange but she was beginning to accept this version of herself. When she did spot Iva, she felt secure enough that together they'd be able to quickly dart in, grab what they had to get, and leave unscathed. Maybe optimism had no place here, but it was the best she could come up with.

14…

Celestin hated that he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night, but it was too late for that. A week ago, he'd have just slept some more and forgotten the world existed. This couldn't be like that. He refused to give into past desires. He tried to find Maisley and realised she shouldn't be his priority right now. As much as he liked her, it was his alliance that needed him most. And he needed them. No question.

13…

Maisley's little fingers clenched into fearful fists that shivered by her side. She had a look in her eye that was both absolutely terrified, but resolved to make it out of this place alive. She could see Ponche and Carys and knew she'd head over there first. Then it would be Castor. And then supplies. She had her plan and she needed to stick by it. Maisley knew she wouldn't win in a fight so her protection had to come first. She had to surround herself with the people she had called friends and be ready to sacrifice them for her own well-being. Harsh, but so is the Hunger Games.

12…

Bryce watched Teak nervously. He could see the vomit around him nestled in the black grass and felt a pang of remorse. He'd done all his crying earlier that morning. Now – he had to focus. He could see Chancellor looking at Sinta, eyes unmoving, and spotted Sheridan nearby. With a twitch of his head in the direction of the boy from One, Sheridan followed his gaze and saw what Bryce was trying to make her see. He didn't care if he was a Career. Sinta was his friend. She'd always been there for him. Now it was his time to repay the favour.

11…

Sinta couldn't get Chancellor's eyes to leave her and she wanted to scream at him. Her stomach was already threatening to overflow and leave her stinking of whatever threatened to come up. Sinta wished she'd managed to eat something for breakfast but that was nowhere near her priority right now. She could see Bryce, Teak and Sheridan. Right now – her friends were what mattered. She would do whatever it took to help them get out of this alive.

10…

Castor couldn't see any of his allies but he didn't let that unnerve him. Calm down, he told himself, feeling his knees becoming jittery. He spotted a pack not too far from where he stood and mentally told himself to go for that first. Anything he could provide his alliance would be useful right now. They were a team. He'd do his part.

9…

Armina continued to look at Albie as she did the same. Fixating on her friend made Armina able to stop the shaking of her legs and compose herself. It felt horrific what she was about to become a part of, but she hadn't spent the Capitol trying to fool herself either about what she would have to do. Albie was a rock for her, but Armina knew she had to find it in herself to be able to be apart from her. Only one could win. It would be her.

8…

Spelt looked at the Cornucopia and saw a belt of knives. If he could just grab that and nothing else, he could be in and out before anyone noticed. Spelt had no allies so he had no one else to find. He hoped as he found Iva standing on her pedestal, steely gaze set somewhere amongst the grass, that she would do well. But his priority had to be himself. Life as a loner made that easier. With no strings to tie him down, maybe he could make it out of this alive.

7…

Iva stared at the sword as if it were staring straight back at her. The other tributes at this very moment were nothing but background as she tried her best to remain as focused on her pedestal as she possibly could. She couldn't allow herself the emotions that might get in the way of her making it out of this alive. Iva would do whatever it took to support Henley and Damon today, but she had to remain her top priority right now. If she had to choose, the choice had already been made.

6…

Shual couldn't see his allies but he did his best not to let that faze him. If he let his mind wander, then he knew that he'd lose focus on what was most important. To his left he could see the girl from One, blonde hair whipping in the wind, and felt the pit in his stomach grow and grow. A Career. She had her eyes set on something, though, and that something wasn't Shual. For now, that was a good thing.

5…

Carys wiped the angry tears from her eyes. Don't be such a baby! She hated the fact that more than anything else, right this very second, she felt so petrified she could chunder just like Teak had. It was not the look she'd ever gone for: being seen as weak. Not since she'd committed herself to smothering that all down and fighting against the world. Now she was beginning to strip those layers back and find something else. She could see Maisley and knew that she'd protect the little girl. It was an odd feeling, especially since she wanted to win herself. But protect her she would. For however long that could last.

4…

Ponche could see two of his allies and for now that was good enough. It didn't matter anymore that he felt like he fell into the shadows. Those sorts of thoughts had no bearing on what was about to happen. He'd do anything to secure his own survival. Even leave his alliance if he had to. He wished he could see Castor but the Cornucopia was so large it was hard to see around it. Right now, he didn't know which direction to run to, but the countdown was almost over. I have to make my mind up.

3…

Sheridan saw Chancellor leering at Sinta. Fuck that noise. No way was she about to let this girl so full of light be snuffed out by some creep with a fetish for blood. Bryce looked like he was thinking something similar. She tried her best to get Altia's attention but without literally shouting her name, there was nothing she could do. It felt strange that for a stranger she was about to risk her life, but something about Sinta made that make sense. Oh well, Sheridan thought. Time to become a good person.

2…

Damon wanted to cry, vomit, faint and cry some more. It was a whirl-wind and what made it worse was that he couldn't see any of his allies. He spotted Altia and tried to catch her attention but she was focused on something else. To his left, Neviya from Two stood resolute on her plate and it made him want to keel over. He had to find his courage and find it quick otherwise he was doomed. It would be over before he'd really had a chance to fight.

1…

Altia's eyes narrowed as she focused on a patch of grass where an assortment of supplies were strewn across. Maybe she didn't necessarily like the fact her alliance was so large, but that didn't mean she wouldn't do her part to help them. She was part of a team. That had to stand for something. Maybe later on, she would think differently and act accordingly, but right now… no, they're my team, and a team sticks together.

0…

The gong sounded.

All hell broke loose.

Chancellor didn't miss a beat. As soon as the gong rang out, his feet took him off the pedestal and he made a beeline straight for Sinta. She had been waiting for it but the realisation that it was happening left her motionless, standing there on her pedestal, a deer in headlights.

As tributes flooded the Cornucopia area, Chancellor reached Sinta and grinned at her maliciously.

"I don't need a weapon to kill you," he said, each step taking him closer and closer to the whimpering girl.

Sinta felt sweat and tears trickling down her face and took a frantic step backwards, stumbling over the pedestal and landing on her back. The air was knocked from her lungs and the tears began to fall even faster. Her heart pounded against her chest. Every fibre of her being told her to get up and fight but she couldn't bring herself to do it. For simply being herself, this monster had targeted her right from the off.

And he was about to kill her.

"Oh well," Chancellor said, taking a bigger step forward. "It's a pity you're all alone."

Another step and he heard rustling behind him. When Chancellor turned around, he was met with the disgusting view of three other tributes.

Where Chancellor was filled with revulsion, Sinta saw a miracle.

"She's not alone," Sheridan said, flanked by Teak and Bryce. "Now back the fuck off."

In the face of a Career, perhaps alone there was no such thing as a chance. But together, united through their loyalty towards Sinta and each other, Chancellor realised with stunning ferocity that he was outmatched.

And he'd been stupid enough to not grab a weapon.

Sheridan, Teak and Bryce charged forwards and tackled Chancellor to the ground. He growled and tried to force himself upwards but Sheridan had him by the waist, pinning him to the grass. Teak and Bryce wrestled with his arms and ignored his legs that went wild as he did everything in his power to free himself.

Sinta finally stood shakily to her feet.

"T-Thank you," she managed to say, her voice strengthening by the second. "You saved my life."

"Sinta! It's not done yet!" Bryce's voice was louder than she'd ever heard before and it completely snapped her back to focus. As Chancellor howled bloody murder, almost knocking Teak off of him, she saw it.

A glimpse of silver amongst the golden fireflies.

Oh my… she picked up the knife and when it came into focus, Sheridan's eyes widened and she nodded. "Do it," she said.

"I…"

Bryce, Teak and Sheridan just stared at her as they struggled to keep Chancellor down. It's now or never, Sinta. This is the Hunger Games. You… you have to…

"DO IT!"

She felt the tears again but this time refused to let herself be the victim. Her alliance needed her. Her friends were depending on Sinta.

Chancellor's eyes widened and for maybe the first, and only time in his life, there was something similar to fear swimming amongst the rage. Sinta stabbed downwards sloppily and cried out loud at the sound and feeling it made as it entered Chancellor's chest. He squirmed once, twitched, and went still.

Her allies let him go and stared at Sinta. The blood welled between her fingers and she dropped the knife into the grass, darkening the beauty of the moonlit field.

"He's dead," she whispered.

The first kill of the Games. And I'm the killer, Sinta thought.

They had no time to think about it. Things had only just begun.

Across the field, nearer to the Cornucopia, Nikos panicked as the girl from Two sped past him with a spear in her hand. For some reason he tried to hug the grass with his body. As if that'll hide me. When he realised she was either not interested in him, or hadn't seen him, he continued to fill the backpack with all sorts of random junk that was scattered in the grass.

He found some arrows but no bow. Although not quite as useful as they could be, he kept them anyway and finished by gripping onto the small knife that was nestled amongst an empty water flask and box of matches.

Okay, now run you idiot. He stood up, surveyed his surroundings, and was almost swept to the side by another Career running madly into the fray. Nikos had no idea which one and didn't care to spend anymore time finding out. Across the field he spotted Albie, side by side with Armina, and silently wished her luck.

It took him ten or so seconds to reach the inner line of tall oak trees. Nikos disappeared from the bloodbath. With no allies, there was no reason to stick around.

Neviya breathed heavily as she jogged closer towards the Cornucopia. With her spear grasped tight in her hand, she had no time for the nerves she felt. Maybe she could deal with them later but right now, spotting Linnea and Britta on the other side of the golden horn, she had other priorities to attend to.

She had no ill will towards any of the other tributes, but if she wanted to win, there was no other way. The nearest person to her had his back to Neviya. The 11 was stitched into his jacket and she ignored the pang of guilt as she raised the spear and skewered Ponche through the back. He gasped and stood up, wobbling on his knees as he turned to look at Neviya.

She stared at him. Maybe she'd missed something vital. She'd hoped it would have been quicker. As he stumbled forwards, mouth opening and closing wordlessly, his hands clamped round the shaft of the spear that was protruding out of his chest.

This is… surreal. Neviya felt sick but as Ponche fell in a heap, she continued to ignore those feelings and yanked the spear from his back. She had no idea where his allies were – Neviya had noted everyone down, each tribute and every group that had formed. In her mind, she said a silent apology and carried on towards Linnea and Britta.

Maisley saw Ponche, face-down in the grass, and had to swallow the bile that threatened to rise from her stomach. She felt exposed out in the open. Watching an ally that she'd secured for her own protection suddenly die, as if he were nothing important, made her feel oddly guilty. It hadn't been as if he'd died in any way shape or form because of Maisley's actions, but she couldn't deny how close she had been beginning to feel towards all of them.

And now Ponche was dead.

Maisley hadn't expected it to be so difficult to get across to her allies. As soon as the gong had sounded, she'd tried to make her way across to Carys but had been swept to the side by Sheridan as she made a beeline for someone else. Maisley had to refocus. The other tributes right this second did not matter. She had a small backpack now over her shoulders with whatever was jangling around inside it. Carys was busy picking up whatever she could find – cramming them into her own khaki backpack.

I can't find Castor.

That was Maisley's first thought.

Shit.

That was Maisley's second thought.

The air was knocked from her as someone barrelled into Maisley, sending her into the grass. She coughed on mud and swore she'd also just eaten a firefly. As she flipped onto her back, she felt terror claw at her throat as she expected Chancellor or someone just as intimidating to be looming over her.

When she saw Spelt gawp at her, panic-stricken, Maisley's heart began to beat just a little less.

"I'm sorry," Spelt stammered. "I didn't see you there – I'm just – I –"

His words were coming out in a jumble and Maisley tried to get herself up from the grass but realised in his hand was a small blade. It wasn't pointing at her. Maisley hadn't really seen much of this boy but he didn't look like a killer.

She raised her hands and tried to smile kindly at him. "That's alright. You don't have any allies right?" Spelt nodded. "Then just go. Run whilst you can."

He seemed to suddenly notice the knife in his hand and took a lopsided step forwards, and then backwards, as if completely unaware of where he was. He nodded and turned to go, but before Maisley could even take another breath, Spelt was knocked down with a punch as Carys flew into him.

Maisley almost called out and told her to stop. That Spelt wasn't actually attacking her. That she was completely safe. But something held her tongue. And she did nothing as Carys's knife entered the back of his neck, and the poor boy gargled on his blood and fell silent.

"Carys…" Maisley said, voice barely above a whisper.

Her ally's eyes whirled round to focus in on Maisley and her face began to soften, but she couldn't deny the fear that was staring back at her, shot right through Carys as she gripped onto the knife, blood pooling around her fingers.

"I just…" she stuttered. "Maisley – I…"

"It's alright," Maisley found her voice, secured her confidence, and looked sadly down at Spelt. "You did what had to be done."

The two left the scene. Next job: find Castor.

Destan saw Chancellor's body in the grass and his mind blurred.

Fuckshitfuck. What the hell had happened?!

He wanted to scream furiously but looked around as tributes continued to scatter and then focused his eyes back on the biggest threat in this entire Games just dead, nothing more than an empty shell in a heap amongst golden fireflies.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing but Destan couldn't allow himself the time to just stand there gawping at the body of Chancellor. He knew there was no way in hell that the girls would take him back at this point. He tried to see if he could spot Roarke but amongst all the bodies chaotically running around, he had no hope in finding him without venturing further in.

Well then… he held onto his spear firmly in his hand, tightened the strap of his backpack, and made a run for it towards the treeline.

Just like that, everything he'd tried to put into place had fallen apart. Maybe he only had himself to blame. But he wasn't about to risk his own neck now that Chancellor was dead. The idea of going it alone scared Destan, but it was better than the alternative. He needed time to rethink. To piece the fragments together of what had just shattered apart.

So he left. Alone.

"Iva."

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up tearfully, meeting the eyes of Henley.

"We have to go," she said. "Come on."

Iva looked once more at Spelt's body and rose to her feet. Her knees wobbled and her feet gave out and Henley had to catch her, lifting her back up. Iva wanted to cry but knew Henley was right, they had to leave right now. In the distance, Iva watched as someone disappeared between the trees by themselves and wished Spelt had just done that.

Why had he ventured towards the Cornucopia? It didn't make any sense.

Henley looked at her ally and wanted to slap her. Not cruelly. But they were being stupid just standing here. She had what she needed and in Iva's hand she held a weapon, reflecting the light from the moon. If this were anywhere else, Henley would have loved to revel in its majesty. But now was not the time to stargaze.

She led the way and spotted Damon near his pedestal. He hadn't moved an inch.

"Useful," Henley mumbled under her breath.

Iva noticed her ally and sped up, passing Henley and grabbing onto Damon. He had no idea why she looked so distraught but he held her and let her body shake in his arms.

"I didn't know you cared so much about Spelt," Henley said.

Was that the wrong thing to say? Right this moment, Henley almost didn't care.

They had to go.

Iva turned around and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I'll get over it. Don't worry about me."

"Then let's go!" Henley shouted.

Damon's finger raised and his eyes widened as the three turned to spot Linnea and Britta heading towards them. Both girls were already armed and fear tore right through their alliance as they turned tail and fled as quickly as they possibly could.

They expected the Career girls to give chase but when Henley looked over her shoulder, the two had turned around and headed back towards the Cornucopia.

Their alliance remained intact.

They'd survived the first step.

Albie continued to clasp tightly onto Armina's hand.

"Don't let go, alright?" she said as the two ventured closer towards the Cornucopia. Luckily for them, the Career girls seemed to be on the other side of the horn and they hadn't seen any of the boys. All they wanted to do was find Shual, grab some supplies, and leave.

No overthinking it. No trying to reinvent the wheel. Just get in, get out, think about what to do next as the chaos calmed down.

"Where do you reckon he is?" Armina asked.

Albie shrugged and bent down to pick up a water bottle, passing it to Armina who placed it in her bag. "It's not the largest area. I don't know what's past those trees but from what I can gather it seems pretty simple, for now." She was already trying to unpick the Arena. She didn't quite understand why she felt like she had to hold onto Armina so tightly, but part of her didn't want to let go.

She was worried about losing her.

Celestin Elan ran past the two of them, not even looking back, and Albie for a second felt her adrenaline kick in. It was an odd feeling, her body doing all its talking, not her mind. She was glad to see the back of the boy as he disappeared and the two friends continued forwards.

"Look!" Armina raised her arm and pointed in the direction of the open mouth to the Cornucopia. There, rummaging through crates but keeping an eye on his surroundings, was Shual.

Albie smiled. Thank god.

Let's get out of here!

She heard a faint whistle and for a moment, as they stepped towards their ally, she wondered what the noise was. Then a scream tore through her ears and as if by instinct, her hand let go of Armina's and she realised what had just happened.

Albie's entire mind whirred. Armina looked at her and then at the arrow protruding from her shoulder.

"Okay – okay – Armina – don't – don't-" Albie had no idea what she was trying to say. Right now, it wasn't a deadly wound. They could deal with it. They could-

Another arrow.

Armina fell face-down.

"What…?"

Albie looked stunned and behind Armina, a few feet away, Roarke was clumsily trying to restring the bow. It didn't look like he felt that confident with the weapon but he'd done enough. Armina was… dead?!

Albie bit back a sob and stumbled forwards. Roarke shot another arrow and it grazed her elbow. If it hurt, Albie didn't know, she hadn't the time to register anything except I need to get out NOW!

"SHUAL!" Her voice was louder than she'd ever heard it. "SHUALLLL!"

Her ally looked up and spotted Albie running and he pulled out the trident that was hidden from view behind the box. Albie knew Shual had no idea what he was doing with it but that didn't stop him from throwing it past Albie and in the general direction of Roarke.

"I'm sorry…" She heard a faint whisper from where she'd just been stood with Armina. When Albie looked back, the boy from Two was stood, looking over Armina's dead body. The trident had missed entirely but he wasn't focused on Albie anymore.

Albie didn't care if he was sorry. The anger replaced the sadness and ripped right through her.

Her logical mindset fell apart as she took a step back towards Roarke. A hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around and she almost decked Shual right around the face.

"We have to go," he said, firmly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But we have to-"

"I can't just leave her…" Albie was shaking with anger as the tears lit up her eyelashes and trickled down the bridge of her nose.

She didn't recognise this version of herself. The one that now felt torn open.

Shual had to physically drag her across the grass until she caved, taking one last look at Armina, and finding her feet and allowing herself to run towards the trees.

I'm sorry, Armina.

I'm so sorry.

The area was slowly starting to thin out.

Sheridan watched as Maisley, Castor and Carys now fled the scene, disappearing into the trees. Without Ponche, it could only mean one thing, and she bowed her head silently to say goodbye.

He didn't deserve it. But neither did she. Sheridan couldn't allow her mind to go to that place.

There were still enough tributes in the surrounding area however for Sheridan to be unable to see everyone. Next to her, Bryce was consoling Sinta who was adamant she was alright, and Teak was a few paces away grabbing whatever supplies he could get his hands on.

"Where's Cel'?"

Sheridan looked at Sinta and in response to her question could do nothing but shrug her shoulders. Honestly, she had no idea. She couldn't see round the Cornucopia from where she stood and for all Sheridan knew he could be one of the tributes that had already died. She didn't know what to do with that thought. Although she didn't really know him, she knew what his death might do to their alliance and she didn't want to have to go through that.

Sheridan wasn't kidding herself. They had to leave. If they couldn't find everyone, then so be it.

I just have to be the one to say that.

There was a yell from somewhere in the distance and all eyes turned around. Altia had her arm around Celestin's shoulders, dragging him across the grass. Sheridan couldn't see that far but there was definitely something wrong with him. He was trying to smile, but it looked pained, and as Altia continued to help him across the grass, Sheridan hoped it wasn't bad enough of an injury to hold them back.

What a cold way of looking at things… Sheridan didn't like the thought, but accepted it all the same.

With the fear of losing an ally, Sinta snapped out of whatever she was under and stood up, almost pulling Bryce forwards with her.

"We have to help," she said.

Sheridan nodded. "Alright. Quickly, though."

When she took a step in their direction, however, from around the Cornucopia three figures arrived, side by side, all with weapons in their hands.

Fucking shit fuck. "The Careers."

They looked intimidating. Linnea, Neviya and Britta, in a perfect line, moving towards Celestin and Altia. Bryce gasped and tried to run forwards, being pulled along by Sinta, but Sheridan stuck out of her arm and stopped the two from Seven.

"Don't be idiots," she snarled, forcing her voice to sound harsh because it was the only way they'd listen. "We can't take them."

"We can't just-"

"No, Sinta. This isn't like the Capitol, okay. You can't just smile away a situation. We. Have. To. Go."

Sinta looked at Bryce and he looked at her. She nodded sadly but Bryce just pointed and called out one name, a name etched with fear and worry. "TEAK!"

The boy from Five, having been a little bit ahead, did not stop himself from advancing to save his allies. In his mind, they had to be together, he had to protect the people he cared about.

He grabbed the other side of Celestin and Altia smiled thankfully. Sheridan had no choice. She ran towards them with Sinta and Bryce behind.

Maybe if she could just get there quick enough… maybe if the girls got bored… maybe if…

A spear tore through the air and impaled Teak straight through the back. Sinta's gut-wrenching cry that came as a response made Sheridan's heart break. Celestin stumbled forwards and Altia fell to the grass.

"CELESTIN! ALTIA! RUN!"

If Sheridan had to be the one to tell them what to do, then so be it. Teak was dead. It had happened. They could grieve later.

Celestin looked back at Altia. She had helped him. But the Career girls were getting even closer and he knew with his twisted ankle, if he tried to help Altia then… then…

"I'm so sorry," he said.

Altia just stared at him. Blankly at first, as if not registering what he just said. But when he started to hobble away, she tried to claw her way upwards and tripped over Teak's body, falling into the dirt with a snap that broke her nose. As she tasted blood in her mouth and saw through her hair that Sheridan was wrapping her arms around Celestin, she wanted to scream and cry and furiously label them traitors.

But she understood. If they tried to help her, then they might die.

And with her here, she was enough of a distraction for them to get away.

"I'm sorry, Teak," Altia said, biting her lip and closing her eyes tightly. "I'm sorry, Damon."

The sword sliced through her back and for Altia's sake, her death was quick.

Britta pulled the sword free and then looked at Teak's body.

"Make sure you grab your spear," she said to Linnea, who nodded grimly.

The others ran away, into the trees.

A six-person alliance down to four.

And one of them a killer.

Roarke had killed.

He'd actually murdered another human being.

He was looking over Chancellor's body and felt the bow in his hand. It was strange. This was the weapon that Chancellor had been most talented at but it had been Roarke who had used it to kill someone else.

He'd done what he'd signed up for. Over the course of the Capitol, he'd begun to think if he could actually go through with it. But in the heat of the moment his training came back to him and he just… did it.

And now Armina was dead.

Roarke had no idea where Destan was and had no desire to go and find him. The entire area was now empty save for himself, the six bodies, and he knew Linnea, Neviya and Britta couldn't be far behind him.

Time to face the music.

Roarke wasn't giving up on his life, but he didn't run for the trees either. Sure, maybe he could escape, try and find Destan if he wasn't also dead, and team up to take out the girls. But now that the one person he had been scared of more than anything was actually one of the first to be killed, something inside Roarke reiterated how absolutely, mind-numbingly stupid he had been.

He was willing to take this risk.

He had to for his own sake.

When he spotted the three girls, he didn't run, he walked towards them.

He almost stumbled over another body but didn't waste a second to look at whoever the poor victim was. Roarke continued towards them and when Neviya looked up, he stopped in his tracks.

"Linnea, Britta," Neviya said, tapping Britta's arm. "Look."

They all gazed over and Roarke continued, trying to ignore the fear gnawing away inside of him as he got closer and closer and all three of them stood, side by side before him.

"Wait just one second," Britta said.

Neviya looked at her but Linnea shook her head before she could say anything.

Roarke halted. He felt the quiver of arrows on his back and the bow in his hand. He could, if he wanted to, take out one of the strongest competitors in this Games. But he couldn't. Because they were his friends. Or least one of them was. He'd give anything to rewrite what had happened and start over.

"Where's the others?" Britta said, lifting her sword. "Chancellor had his fill?"

Linnea looked nervously around, ready for the psycho to pounce from the shadows. Roarke just shook his head and a nervous laugh broke free from his dry lips.

"He's dead."

"What?!" All three girls spoke at the same time.

Roarke laughed again. "He's dead," he repeated. "I don't know how or who, but seems like your plan worked, Britta. Someone killed him."

Britta laughed and clapped her hands over her mouth. She looked at Linnea who looked back and they both just shook their heads incredulously. "Is it bad that makes me – I don't know. I can't believe it."

"Sucks for him." Linnea shrugged her shoulders. "Where's Destan?"

Roarke shook his head and continued to move ever so closer towards the girls. "I'm not sure. It's just me."

"You get anyone?" Neviya now spoke, voice seemingly pained by seeing Roarke so close to them all.

Roarke nodded. "Girl from Eight. You?"

"Boy from Five," Linnea said.

"Girl from Twelve," Britta said.

Neviya bowed her head. "Boy from Eleven."

So, we're all killers.

Roarke pictured them all that first day, sat around the table, laughing and giggling and pretending that their situation could be mistaken for lunch-time at school. The best of friends making a spectacle of themselves but loving it all the same.

The laughter, the camaraderie, the light, none of it mattered.

They were all murderers.

"Why are you here?" Britta asked.

"You know why, Britta." Neviya spoke before Roarke could answer. She looked at her allies. "We could use him."

Roarke looked at Neviya and didn't like the way she had said use him. It wasn't because she wanted him. It wasn't because she missed him. No – she could use him.

What did that mean?

The girls whispered something between them and Roarke waited nervously. Would he have to use this bow to try and get away if they made the choice to get rid of him? Or would they welcome him with open arms and they could pretend for however long that their reunion actually stood a chance?

When they stopped talking, Roarke readied his hand to grab an arrow just in case.

Britta nodded her head and grinned at him. "Welcome back, Roarke."

He closed the gap between them. Linnea clapped him on the back. Britta ruffled his hair. Neviya just looked at him, a small smile on her face.

"Welcome back," she said.

Roarke nodded his head.

The bloodbath was over and here he was, with the girls, and in a twisted way he couldn't be happier.

Whatever Neviya meant about using him, in this moment, Roarke did not care.

I'm back.

And he was ready to fight.

24th: Chancellor Darrian, District One Male.
23rd: Ponche Garland, District Eleven Male.
22nd: Spelt Brassard, District Nine Male.
21st: Armina Rione, District Eight Female.
20th: Teak Underwood, District Five Male.
19th: Altia Wright, District Twelve Female.

Aaaand there we go!

I actually wrote this all straight after Launch, but I promised Thursday! (and it's nearly midnight in the UK so that counts, I did not specify which Thursday kiss kiss.) The next chapter is also done so woohoo getting ahead!

Okay so. Sucks to kill these six and I'm sure to the submitters, it's difficult seeing them be the first to go, especially in a story where each tribute really was given the time to grow and flourish and all the readers got to know them well. But each went for specific reasons and I'm happy with the choices I made. Apologies again, I really love each and every character here.

I hope this chapter was okay. Bloodbaths are tricky. There's so much going on but I wanted to also touch base with everyone and get all the necessary action as part of the chapter too. It was difficult, but, I hope you liked it!

Well, the Games have officially started. Six down, seventeen more to go :)