Chapter XI, Arena: Buried Alive.
- Pushing Up Daisies -
The Twenty-Second Hunger Games
Andronika's breaths came out ragged as she stared at Enoch, a wry look on his face as he looked her up and down.
"I'm glad you made it out safe," Enoch said quietly, "I was worried that you might've gotten eaten."
"I'm sure you care," Andronika was more bitter than she realised. A knot of fire swelled in her chest as she stared at the ally she never cared about, and yet, hated for his betrayal. I'm a hypocrite, Andronika acknowledged, but she also didn't care.
"We made a good team," Enoch continued, "And there's hardly anyone left…"
Don't fall for it.
Andronika opened up her fists. "What are you suggesting?"
"We continue our alliance and put the past to bed."
Andronika could see every little movement on Enoch's face. The small twitch of his lip. The flicker of his eyelashes. The sweat sitting just above his eyebrow. It was all so prominent, so enhanced — Andronika could've sworn that she heard his heart thumping in his chest, out of sync, erratic…
"And kill the other four tributes?" Andronika asked, "What do we do then?"
"Then it's down to us and the better person wins," Enoch's lips twitched into a smile, "Of course, that'll be me."
Don't trust him.
"I see…" Andronika chewed the words slowly. Outside, she heard the crackle of thunder as a large gust of wind blew through the window. A storm was brewing. "…you make it sound so simple."
"It is, isn't it? We worked so well taking down Tirsa."
"You mean when I fought her and you entered at the last minute."
"The details are unimportant. What matters is that we killed her, as a team, and we can do the same to everyone downstairs."
Enoch started to walk away, as if inviting Andronika to follow her. She held back the anger and betrayal — focused on trying to stay calm — as she followed Enoch cautiously. The room was in abundance of destruction. Fallen objects and chaos surrounded them. At the far end, it opened out into the vaulted ceiling of the church.
Enoch waited at the far end, silently staring down. Andronika edged as close as she felt comfortable, keeping an eye on her former ally turned foe.
"You see?" Enoch whispered, gesturing down below. Past the huge pyre, four tributes stood in two pairs, facing each other. "I think they'll kill each other off anyway… but we can just pick the rest off."
Andronika glanced carefully between the below scene and Enoch. He seemed so calm on the outside, but Andronika saw every little giveaway detail that said Enoch was nervous, scared, anxious and excited, a mixture of emotions that he hid so well.
"Who are they, Andi?"
She spared another glance downwards and then stared at Enoch. She knew everyone. She had to. "Astrid Marano, Prentice Murphy, Auberon Reyes and Riette Lynelle."
Enoch shrugged, "I don't know any of them. But I recognise that girl. She berated me about raspberries, of all things."
"What is your plan then?"
"I don't have one… just wait and see, I guess?"
The group below started talking between themselves. A quiet murmur that was swallowed by the crackling of the fire. Andronika listened as best as she could, realising that the four were holding a truce until they knew if anyone else was alive.
Enoch pulled away from the railing, trying to appear as at ease as possible. Andronika saw right through him, though, and instinctively jerked in his direction.
Enoch noticed, looking down at her closed fists. "Oh, Andi… you don't trust me?"
Compared to her own grimy, dirt-sodden skin, Enoch was clean and well-presented. He looked as if he had zero issues in the arena, safe and sound in his nest like a fragile, egotistical bird. Andronika had been through the mud. Dragged, scraped, attacked and fighting for her life.
That alone made her even more annoyed at Enoch's blatant disregard for their alliance.
Even if I didn't care about him…
The hypocritical note dawned on Andronika, but she didn't care. She was so full of rage and anguish at struggling to survive when Enoch, comparatively, had it much easier.
"I don't trust anyone…" Andronika whispered, voice quaking.
"Not even me?"
She clenched her jaw. "Nope."
Enoch's body began to shimmer slightly, melting away into thin air. As Andronika's eyes travelled up to his face, she saw the ghost of his smile before he seemingly vanished. Her body tensed immediately as she stared around the room.
"Enoch?"
A hard, crushing force slammed into her face. She hit the floor, the air completely knocked out of her lungs. He was invisible!
Angry, Andronika tried to pull herself up onto her knees when another invisible force jolted into her ribs. She muffled her own cry, swallowing the fiery pain as it seared up her body. Tears welled in her eyes but she blinked them away, refusing to show weakness.
Another kick.
Another hit.
Andronika couldn't even see him, let alone predict his moves. As another minor gust of wind came before she was hit once more, Andronika realised that she could hear him.
Enoch was invisible, not silent.
She gently propped herself onto her hands and knees, eyes shut, focusing solely on listening to her surroundings for as much clarity as possible. The fire crackling downstairs. The oncoming rain as it hammered against the tiled roof. The horde of zombies groaning under their breaths…
…and Enoch's swift kick of his foot.
Andronika's eyes snapped open as she caught it. An invisible limb in her hand. She smiled proudly and pulled as hard as she could, sending Enoch to the carpet. A muted thud. Andronika acted quick — pouncing onto the spot he landed without hesitation.
She sent her fist down into the space, hearing a crack of bone followed by Enoch's cry. Red blood seemed to float in the air briefly before it shifted, but Andronika refused to give up, punching down again and again, hearing Enoch scream in pain.
Anger overtook her.
Years of pushing herself to be the strongest, the smartest, her entire family's pressures weighing on her shoulders. They had expected her to do well in whatever she did. And when she was chosen to be a tribute? They were prepared to never see her again.
I will survive. I will win.
Enoch kicked upwards, unseating Andronika to the side. The pair scrambled and fought each other on the carpet, catching the table and sending glasses onto the ground around them, shattering into pieces.
Andronika had the upper hand despite Enoch's desperate attempts to wrestle her off of him.
"Please!" Enoch pleaded, "Please, Andi!"
She had him pinned, at her mercy, invisible but captured. "Reveal yourself!"
Slowly, Enoch's body flickered back, a swollen face that was splattered with blood. Sat on top of him, looking down, Andronika realised he looked so… young. Scared, helpless eyes full of tears and a quivering bottom lip, attempting to shield himself.
"P—Please…" Enoch pleaded again, "W—We don't have to do this yet…"
Andronika paused, releasing her grip on him slightly. "We do…"
Enoch choked on a cry, closing his eyes. "… make it quick."
The sincerity in his voice and the thumping of his heartbeat made Andronika soften. He really didn't seem so malevolent and sly any more.
"Okay, we can—"
Her words were cut off completely as pain shot through her chest. She looked down, seeing blood blossom on her shirt, a shard of glass sticking out of her gut. Her eyes trembled as she looked at Enoch's face. A sad smile now pressed into a hard, thin line.
I… I didn't pin both of his hands…
Andronika steadily pulled herself onto her feet, hands shaking as she held the glass in her body. Blood flowed through her fingers as Enoch shuffled out from underneath.
"I'm sorry… I really am…"
Enoch stabbed her again in the shoulder with another piece of glass. Andronika staggered back, confused and hurt, tears silently streaming down her face. Her entire body screamed in urgency, losing blood.
"E—Enoch—"
"I'm sorry," Enoch said finally, before shoving her as hard as he could.
Time seemed to slow down as Andronika's body hit the railing. Her body cascaded over the edge and, in that moment, Andronika realised that she was about to be set free from her burdens. She felt like a failure, but at the same time, she was proud of how well she had survived.
The world tipped upside down as she fell into the flames below, engulfed in the roar of the fire. Enoch stood paralysed on the spot before he staggered over, grabbing the railing of the balcony as dizziness assaulted him.
Someone screamed. Enoch's eyes widened as realisation settled in. Four pairs of eyes locked with his, one by one, having witnessed Andronika's fall.
Shit.
Silently, Enoch vanished into thin air once more.
Auberon saw as a shadow fell from the balcony above, landing somewhat into the pyre. The flames let out an unearthly roar in response as it was fed another tribute.
Riette noticed it, too, and her shrill scream soon pierced the air.
Astrid and Murphy turned to see the commotion. The pyre seemed to move and shift momentarily before it spat out a body, flames licking away at what melted skin was left.
That's when all four tributes noticed their fifth opponent above. He was staring down at them with a bloodied, swollen face and hardened, unforgiving eyes before he disappeared seemingly into nothing.
"Who was that?!"
"They have an extra ally!"
"Wait— what? No, we don't!"
Auberon's instincts kicked in. He straightened up, fists balled, eyes narrowed at the 'enemies' in front of him. "Who was that?"
Astrid turned back to him, "Do I look like I know?"
"He's upstairs…" Auberon's voice was cold and clipped. "It'd make sense for you to hide him."
They must know, Auberon rationalised. Conveniently upstairs, in the dark, hidden from sight. An advantage. His eyes flitted towards Riette. He could feel the tension permeating from her body as she chewed on her bottom lip anxiously.
"You must've known!" Riette blurted out.
"I said I don't know!"
"Look— let's just calm down," Murphy stepped forward. Auberon noticed immediately that his skin was peeling off in large, blackened flakes, revealing reddened skin. "We have nothing to hide from you."
"You locked us out…" Auberon challenged.
The words took the boy by surprise. For a brief second, he looked hurt, as if he couldn't believe he had done so. "You have to understand… we're just trying to survive."
Auberon did. He didn't hate them for it — but he couldn't exactly like them either. Deep down, he knew he would've done the same.
Riette, however, didn't take the words so kindly. She was shaking, anxious and scared, a mixture of emotions that put Auberon on edge. He kept a close eye on her when he noticed a shimmer of luminescent green at her side.
"Riette…?"
"You're lying!"
"Riette, I don't think they are—" Auberon tried to be comforting, reaching out to touch her when her hand shot up, revealing the green knife in her hand.
"Liars!" Riette was shrieking, "You're liars!"
The threat didn't deter Astrid who took a step forward, only to be held back by Murphy. "I'd think twice before saying that again!"
Auberon raised his hands in defense, trying to grab Riette's attention. "Riette, calm down… you're not thinking this through clearly."
"Only one of us can win, Auberon! They're gonna kill us!"
The words sunk in but Auberon couldn't think about it like that. He had to focus on surviving, not murdering. He had to focus solely on trying to stop people from killing him as best as he could.
"Riette, please—"
Riette slashed out with the knife in Auberon's direction. He jumped back, barely missing it, his eyes widened in shock. Her eyes were wild and frantic, holding the knife up threateningly.
"Stay back! Stay back!"
"She's lost it," Astrid chimed in angrily.
"Riette!"
"We just need to calm down!" Murphy tried to reason.
"I don't want to die!"
The appearance of the secretive tribute — on top of the hungry, craving moans on the other side of the door — had done nothing but bring out the deep, dark desperation in Riette. Their thuds against the walls only added to the urgency.
"Riette… please, I'm begging you… lower the knife…"
But it was too late. A loud crash against the stained glass window, causing it to shatter into colourful shards against the soot-covered floor, sent Riette into a spiralling panic.
She sliced out blindly with her knife, forbidding anyone from getting too close, but Auberon took the plunge. Riette had become a risk — one that, foolishly, he needed to help. In his head, as he charged into Riette with full force, he rationalised that he was doing it because Nysa would've wanted him to support her dearest friend.
The pair hit the floor. The knife immediately vanished. But that didn't stop Riette from punching and kicking outwards, screaming in a blind panic.
"Riette, calm down!"
Auberon had Riette's arms pinned above her head when he noticed a rock flying towards him. He ducked, the rubble barely skimming over his head, as he turned to face the other tributes. Both were talking quietly amongst themselves.
"Did you just throw that?" Auberon shouted, an unknown rage building in his chest.
"You two have a lot of nerve to keep accusing us of shit," Astrid bit back.
"They're gonna kill us…" Riette whimpered. Auberon looked back down at her. She was calmer, tears in her eyes, lip quivering. "Auberon… they're gonna kill us…"
Another rock skidded to land next to him, quickly followed by another.
Auberon breathed through his nose, trying to stay calm. Harmony and balance. "We'll be okay… we just need to—"
His words died on his tongue as something hard crashed into the side of his head, sending him reeling to the floor. Through the pain that burned in his skull, he faintly recognised Riette's scream, followed by the sounds of footsteps.
Riette watched as Auberon hit the floor, tumbling off of her. His eyes were squeezed shut and blood dripped down from his ear, the side of his face now cut in angry, red lines. Off to the side, a jagged piece of rock laid flecked with blood.
Time seemed to still. Riette stared at Auberon forever, panic and fear and anger building in her chest.
Limos, why?
Pa, Mom, why?
I don't deserve this. Auberon doesn't deserve this. Nysa didn't deserve it.
A broken, pained scream erupted from her throat. From all the pain she had endured. From losing her morals and soul to losing the closest person she had been to in a very, very long time. It assaulted Riette before she even realised she was screaming, running at Astrid and Murphy with nothing but rage driving her feet forward.
Astrid didn't see it coming. The soft, balled fist hit her square in the face, sending her reeling backwards.
"Hey, hey! Calm down!"
Riette didn't see any sense. She was angry, hurt, desperate to live. She swung out her fists that Murphy easily caught in an attempt to calm her down.
"We didn't hit him!"
"Yes, you did!"
Riette used her legs to kick out, trying to free herself from Murphy's grip.
"Let me go!"
"You just—" Murphy's voice crumbled as Riette's foot connected with his groin. He immediately released her and fell to the floor in pain.
Riette spun around as Astrid glared at her, blood dripping down her face from angry claw marks. Face to face, the girls said nothing, but Riette noticed that Astrid's fists were clenched down at her side, as if prepared for a fight.
Limos, why?
The green knife formed in Riette's trepid hand once more. She raised in offense, aimed at Astrid, squeezing a little too tight to hide the shakes.
"I'm sorry…" Riette whispered.
"I don't think you are."
I didn't mean it for you.
Riette lunged forward, stabbing sloppily with the knife. Astrid avoided the blows barely, stumbling and throwing herself backwards at Riette's apparent lack of coordination. As Riette sliced the knife down, Astrid used the momentum to punch outwards, her fist connecting with Riette's shoulder.
Riette slashed the knife upwards, cutting through Astrid's shirt until her stomach was exposed.
Astrid punched her again on the jaw.
Riette managed to cut Astrid across the forearm.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!
Lost in her thoughts, Riette closed her eyes and shut off her morals as she attempted to stab Astrid in the chest… however, as the knife swung down with surprising force, Astrid was able to grab her by the wrist, keeping it just above her.
Riette opened her eyes. She saw the fire and determination that permeated from Astrid's expression. A clenched jaw. A bruised, bloodied face. Hardened, weathered eyes.
Astrid was stronger than Riette was. Riette could feel her hand being forced back against her.
I don't want to die…
With a final push, Astrid spun Riette's hand downwards until the knife slid right into her gut.
"I'm sorry…" Astrid whispered, her expression softened, as Riette's eyes watered.
Slowly, Riette fell to her knees, but Astrid caught her. They didn't know each other. They were just trying to kill each other. And yet, as Riette cried as she bled out in Astrid's arms, she realised that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't meant to be the killer that Limos required.
In Astrid's embrace, her pain melted away until a bright, warm nothingness embraced her.
Pa, Mom, Limos, Nysa.
I'm okay. I promise.
Auberon stirred awake, cradling his wounded head. His vision blurred at the edges as the sight came to him. The sound of the frightening rain and moans outside. The crackle of thunder in the distance.
Murphy was on the floor, keeled over.
Astrid had Riette's body in her arms, a stony expression as she gently laid the redhead onto the ground, dead.
A wave of emotions came over him. Sickness. Anger. Fear. Desperation. Determination. Understanding.
His whole body felt deflated. He wanted to mourn Riette as much as he wanted to mourn Nysa, but he just couldn't. He couldn't allow himself the expressive emotions in fear that they would consume him and he'd be blinded by his true intention: to live.
Astrid turned to face him. She said nothing, but she didn't need to.
"It's okay," Auberon choked, carefully watching the pair. "I— I get it."
They attacked me and killed Riette. Why didn't they kill me? Auberon gripped onto the nearest concrete bench, trying to keep himself from falling over. His head was pounding and the world felt like it was moving around him. Am I really just that lucky?
"Then there were four…" Astrid's words were cold, clipped, tired.
I have to keep going.
In his head, Auberon worked out his strategy as best as he could. Murphy seemed the bigger threat, but he was still on the floor, seemingly injured beyond belief. Astrid was also injured: except she had just killed Riette.
Auberon wasn't a killer. He could barely look the animals in the eye before they were sent to the slaughter.
He stumbled a few steps forward, not taking his eyes off of the pair. He needed to act as quickly as possible. The glimmering shards of glass caught his attention and, despite knowing it was heinous, he knew it was the only way. The cleanest, most quickest way.
He made it a few steps before something swept him out from under his feet.
Murphy saw from the corner of his eye as Auberon went down once more.
"It's that other tribute," Astrid was next to Murphy in seconds, watching ahead as Auberon attempted unsuccessfully to fight back against the unknown force.
Murphy ignored the sickness from Riette's kick. "Man… my balls hurt."
"Shut up," Astrid was quiet, alarmed.
"We should help…"
Astrid didn't answer. She was bloodied and injured herself, and as Murphy realised, she was also determined to look after herself first and foremost. He really couldn't blame her, but it wasn't his thing. He had come to realise that, even in life versus death, his guilt got the better of him.
A voice boomed in the air. "Tributes!"
The atmosphere immediately changed as Auberon was pulled up onto his feet like a marionette, stringless and exposed. His head was battered and bruised, barely upright. A piece of glass floated in the air near Auberon's neck.
"I just want to go home and you're in my way."
Through his swollen eyes and obstructed vision, Auberon saw as Astrid jumped to her feet, closely followed by Murphy. The pair stared straight at him, faces pulled back in horror and anger.
Auberon knew he wasn't going to make it. His energy was sapped. He was compromised. He had tried so hard to keep going despite everything against him.
Deep down, he was ready.
The fight was now nothing but a small flame that was about to be snuffed out.
Auberon was able to mouth a singular word — "ash" — before he closed his eyes and embraced the oncoming attack.
I tried my hardest. I tried for everyone.
He briefly thought of his parents, his friends, before the world ended in a violent stab to the neck.
In the darkness, a soft voice awaited him. "Auberon? Auberon, you're okay. Come on. Let's play checkers."
The sight didn't scare either of them.
Astrid's jaw clenched just a little harder as blood spurted from Auberon's neck.
Sickness rose in Murphy's stomach as Auberon was cruelly thrown to the floor.
Enoch appeared once more, a thin line where his smile once was, towering over Auberon's bleeding corpse. He switched his eyes between the pair. Faintly in the back of his mind, Enoch realised that he was outnumbered — him versus the two of them.
He also realised that nothing could stop him when he put confidence in himself.
He was no longer the insecure, forgotten, mildly cocky boy that sassed Tirsa and tried to make friends with Andronika and envied Gideon. He was the empowered, emboldened, strongest tribute who had killed both his greatest enemy and the most feared tribute in the arena.
Enoch could do anything. He rolled his shoulders and flexed his hands, ready to take them both down.
I can do this, Enoch vaguely boosted himself up. I am Enoch Chen. I am going to be Victor. I am the hero to my story.
And sometimes… you live long enough to become the villain you killed, too.
Astrid wasn't ready but it really didn't matter, and she knew that.
She clenched and unclenched her fists, staring at the invisible, brutal boy at the other end of the building. The fire behind her crackled. The rain outside hammered without mercy. The zombies continued to push harder against the building.
She wasn't about to give up.
A determined, hidden fire that kept Astrid going through everything she had come across. From the accidental murder of her district partner and brief ally, Tobi, to having to kill a clearly frightened, desperate girl in Riette.
Astrid had seen many people die in front of her. Tobi. Frances. Baylor. Riette. Auberon.
She wasn't about to join them.
Murphy didn't know if their alliance still stood, but he hoped it did.
His skin was still peeling off in large chunks. He was beginning to feel sore, aching with welts up his arms and thighs. He was exhausted, emotionally drained and numb, a spark that had been snuffed multiple times and kept igniting despite everything.
Murphy, too, had watched his allies die. Oliver. Frances.
He couldn't save them. He couldn't help them. His innate desire to help out his fellow tributes overwhelmed his desire to survive.
It's what drove him away when Vesper got killed: an act that Murphy couldn't quite forgive himself for, no matter how much he pretended it barely affected him.
He didn't want to die.
He just didn't know how much more he could lose to win.
Enoch disappeared once more as the windows around the church began to blow out from the storm. Shards of coloured glass rained down onto the grimy floor, slick with blood, dirt and sweat.
Lightning crackled in the distance in time with the pyre that Astrid and Murphy stood in front of.
"Where did he go?" Murphy shouted over the rain.
The windows upstairs exploded, the noise almost deafening.
"I'm not sure!"
An invisible force shoved Murphy backwards, swept right off of his feet. He landed hard, air knocked from his lungs. Astrid barely noticed before she, too, was sent to the floor by a hard punch to the face.
Murphy tried to intervene, only to be sent back once more by a floating metal pole against his chest.
The assault didn't stop there. Astrid curled into herself as unseen kicks were sent into her gut. Each boot made her ribs scream in agony, welting purple and green. She screamed and tried to scramble away, only to be pulled up by her face and thrown face first into the ground. She felt small pieces of glass cut into her face, a mouthful of dust that clogged up her throat.
"Murp—"
Her voice was cut off by the pole that crashed into her skull. It was a soft attack — one that made Astrid scream but didn't knock her out before the pole was tossed aside, clattering on the floor.
Murphy grappled with the invisible force. He jolted his knee out, grunting, causing Enoch to cry out in pain.
Astrid pulled herself up as Murphy was pushed back.
Another hit collided with her face but Astrid was becoming immune to it — she reeled for just a brief moment before punching in retaliation.
Murphy wrapped his arms around Enoch's invisible form and the pair struggled. Enoch drove his elbow into Murphy's chest a few times but Murphy only locked his grip harder and stronger, refusing to give up.
"Astrid! Kill him!"
Astrid fell to her knees and scrambled for a large enough piece of glass under the grime. In that time, Enoch freed himself and vanished.
"Where did he go!?" Murphy shouted.
Astrid's hand found the glass and she shot up, ignoring the sickness and pain in her body.
"We need to make him not invisible!"
Pain shot up Astrid's wrist as Enoch attacked it, disarming her of the glass that fell and shattered. She tried to hit out but Enoch grabbed her by the hair, swinging her down to the floor in one fell swoop.
Murphy tried to help, but all hope was lost as Enoch seamlessly found his metal pole and struck him in the forehead with it. Murphy crumpled in agony, eyes rolling back. Enoch hit him again and again, trying to make sure he wouldn't get up.
Eventually, Murphy's cries of agony went quiet until he didn't move or make a sound.
Triumphant, Enoch turned back to Astrid, only to see her upright, teeth bared as she lashed out. Enoch was unprepared — Astrid's hand wrapped around his throat, nails piercing his skin, and Enoch's scream was silence.
They tussled, skidding on the floor, Enoch's own hands grabbing at Astrid's in an attempt to disarm her.
Astrid used the momentum to her advantage. She pushed against Enoch hard until he stumbled and the pair fell to the floor, Astrid on top, pinning him down as she focused solely on taking the breath from his lungs.
She was angry, frightened, hurt. She wanted Enoch to suffer but she couldn't determine why. Enoch's body phased in and out as he began to lose consciousness, one hand pushing at Astrid's face…
A crack. Astrid fell to the side, Enoch gasping for air as he held the rock in his hand.
His invisible form crackled, Enoch sliding on his feet as he attempted to regain control.
Astrid pulled herself across the floor to get away from him.
Murphy pulled himself up onto his knees with shaky hands.
Astrid flipped herself onto her back and kicked upwards, connecting with Enoch's knee and sending him onto the floor, also. The three were exhausted and panting, but Astrid and Murphy shared a familiar, sudden glance. Auberon's words resounded between them and they both just knew what to do.
"Murphy, do it!"
Astrid threw herself onto Enoch as he got to his feet and attempted to get away, going invisible once more.
Murphy ran for the pyre, grabbing a handful of ash. It singed against his skin but he didn't care. He ran at Astrid and threw the blackened mass at where he assumed was Enoch's face. Immediately, Enoch spluttered, losing focus and becoming visible once more.
An even playing field.
Enoch shoved Astrid off, swinging the rock wildly at Murphy as he drew nearer.
"Get away!" Enoch screamed, blinded by the ash.
It was too late. Astrid didn't want to back off any longer. She charged at Enoch as hard as she could, shoving him backwards. He hit the floor and skidded just beneath the pyre. He pulled himself up, the heat heavy on his back, and staggered on his feet.
Murphy looked at Astrid with wide eyes as she ran at Enoch at full speed.
Enoch barely saw her through his ruined vision as her shoulder collided with him and Enoch fell into the flames.
His screams echoed through the building — over the sound of the pounding rain — as the flames ate away at his skin. Enoch staggered out of the fire, panicking and screaming and begging for help as his flammable outfit encouraged the flames right through to his bone.
Astrid was on her knees, backed away. Murphy was a few feet to the side. Both were stone-faced and jaws clenched as Enoch eventually fell to the floor, twitching… before stilling forever.
Astrid looked at Murphy with exhausted eyes. She cracked a wry, angered smile. "And then there were two…"
The doors to the church burst open. Both of the remaining tributes barely had time to turn around as the horde of zombies poured in faster and more determined than ever to eat.
"No!"
Bacchus was in disbelief as the zombies poured in uninvited. He jumped out of his chair, anger in his eyes at the screen as the two final tributes — Astrid Marano and Prentice Murphy — were quickly overwhelmed.
Both valiantly defended themselves against the mob but it was a lose-lose situation. Their defense was weak, their bodies exhausted, both pushed to the brink emotionally, mentally and physically.
The zombies — Cyril had assured him — were to "spice it up".
But instead, the zombies were determined to make sure that nobody came out of it alive.
"Send the staff in! Get those tributes out of there!"
"But, Sir— that'll be interfering with the Victor—"
"We won't have one at this rate!"
Bacchus saw one of his Gamemakers hit a button, calling the alarm for an emergency evacuation.
He only hoped they'd make it in time to save one of them.
Astrid didn't stand a chance when the zombies flooded in.
She kicked and punched and screamed for her life. Brittle teeth found her arms and her shoulders, as her fists and shoes found rotten, grotesque flesh. They surrounded her and boxed her in on all sides.
She didn't want to die. She didn't want to give up.
Despite every bone in her body seeking respite, Astrid refused to die.
Eventually, the mob pushed in until Astrid was completely swamped, disappearing in the undead mass.
Murphy didn't stand a chance when the zombies flooded in.
He shouted angrily and grabbed the fallen metal pole, using it as a weapon to keep them at bay. He cracked it on their skulls, split their faces in half as he ripped their lower jaws off, feeling broken nails raking down his back and chest, drawing blood and cries of anguish.
He didn't want to die. He didn't want to give up.
Despite every scream in his head that tormented him, Murphy refused to die.
Eventually, the mob pushed boxed him in solely. He barely heard Astrid's scream as she was seemingly swallowed. It wasn't long before Murphy sunk under, too.
"Sir, Officer Champaney is down!"
"What's the report?"
"He was pulled into the zombies, he— he was eaten, Sir…"
"And the tributes?"
"We've secured both… but they're in bad shape. Both are barely alive."
Bacchus took a deep breath, finger shaky on the communicator button. He swallowed the anxiety and placed his faith solely in Limos, knowing that Her desire for a survivor will mean that someone will live.
"Can we save one of them?"
"Sir— one of them is crashing!"
Bacchus' heart raced. "Who is it!?"
But he was met with total silence. He could hear the panicked murmurs, the rushed conversations as they desperately tried to save one of the tributes. He heard the electric thump of the defibrillator in the background.
Another frantic beep. "The other one is crashing too!"
Time seemed to still entirely as he waited, waited, waited until he heard the total flatline as one of them was lost… followed by the sound of another being saved.
"Report?"
"We lost one of them, Sir…"
"Which one?"
Darkness was all that welcomed the tribute. They turned in every direction, seeking a light that never came. It wasn't hot nor cold — an empty, nothingness that made the tribute feel as if they were floating and falling at the same time.
They walked aimlessly, staggering on bruised, injured legs, leaving bloodied footprints behind them.
"Where am I?"
Silence.
"Am I dead?"
Silence.
They kept walking and walking, never-ending. Blood dripped from their fingertips. Their dirt-smeared, bruised face looked lost and hopeless, eternally confused and damned. In the distance, however, a small light appeared followed by a rhythmic drum.
They edged forward. Their hospital gown, clean and white, so different to their ruined arena uniform. Their bruises gone: their blood now stemmed.
"Why are you here?"
The tribute stopped. "Why are you here?"
"I'm dead."
A lump in their throat. "Am I dead too?"
"You're not meant to be. You're not meant to be here."
The tribute recognised that voice. It was familiar, comforting, a glimpse of their former life that they wished to get back too. They edged closer and closer until the small figure emerged from the shadows. A sweet face with kind, soft eyes.
"Wake up, Astrid."
Astrid awoke, eyes wide and screaming so loud. She thrashed in the hospital bed, horrifying nightmares of zombies and death thudding in her brain. She screamed through her pain and anguish until two clean, nice nurses had her pinned to the bed, injecting a sedative until her eyes flickered shut once more.
The door opened.
"Is this her?"
Through the haze, Astrid could hear them. She focused on their voices, desperate to cling to reality and life over her own fears.
She believed she was dead. A part of her thought this might've been her eternal damnation. She wasn't a religious person — Limos had done fuck all for her — but she knew a karmic force out there would bite her on the ass one day.
Her eyes flickered open once more. Two men stared at her — one with a warm, inviting face and the other with barely any expression. The former stood forward, relief in his smile.
The latter cleared his throat. "This is the surviving tribute, Sir— Astrid Marano of District Five, Victor of the Twenty-Second Hunger Games."
"It's nice to meet you, Astrid."
She licked her dry, cracked lips and laughed dryly. There was no jest in her laugh, no happiness nor light. She was beaten, broken, tired and angry. But most of all: she was thankful to still be alive.
"Am I allowed a fucking cigarette now?"
w w w. pushingupdaisieshg. blogspot. c o m
The Fallen:
6th — Andronika Mbizi, District Two.
5th — Riette Lynelle, District Seven.
4th — Auberon Reyes, District Ten.
3rd — Enoch Chen, District One.
2nd — Prentice Murphy, District Three.
Questions!
What was your favourite moment of this story?
Who was your favourite tribute of this story?
What are your overall thoughts on this story?
This chapter was unexpected for you and for me. After some deliberation, I realised that I wanted to do something completely out of the box. I've written many SYOTs with the same format over and over, and for this story, my first since returning, I decided I needed to show something different. So, a bloodbath 2.0 in your finale with a different ending to announce your Victor, too.
Firstly, congratulations to our Top 6! An eclectic bunch but all worthy of their placements and possible aims for being Victor.
Secondly, and most importantly, a huge congratulations to Astrid! Probably not the reader choice, but as the writer, she was my choice.
The last chapter for this story will be an epilogue. It won't be huge, but we'll tie up the story. I'm also going to take a leaf out of Jake's book and write a little eulogy from me as the author about each tribute.
With that being said, this story has been a wild ride and I would love if you could answer the questions! You guys have been incredible. From the reviews and silent readers, to the people who I talk with regularly and spill far too many spoilers too. I'll get more soppy for the final chapter but just know, I loved the ride!
~Corey.