The Bloodbath
The sun has long risen over the Capitol when the tributes rise up onto their pedestals from the prison elevators, bursting forth from dank darkness into fresh, crisp air. Above them is the blue sky, dotted with little puffy clouds that putter across the blue expanse as if they were real and not artificial creations of the Gamemakers. Surrounded by curious blue flowers, large bells that tilt downwards at the ground below, the pedestals sit on a large, rocky dirt clearing on the banks of a river, with two sturdy wooden bridges that span the rolling watery gap between the two banks. The air is clean; they're in a small valley in the mountains, surrounded by pine forests that stretch on and on and on.
"Welcome to the Thirty-Seventh Annual Hunger Games!"
The voice echoes back and forth between the mountains on both sides, ringing in the tributes' ears, sending shivers down their backs, bouncing around in their heads.
The countdown begins.
60…
Evelyn's still shaking and hyperventilating, barely able to stand still as the breeze blows across her face, her mind still picturing her escort's granola-smeared face and the Peacekeepers with their guns.
I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die…
Reuben catches her eye from a few spaces down and waves. The sight of him helps her breathing stabilize and she focuses her eyes on the bounty ahead. Reuben's shaking his head, but there's so much stuff! And they need weapons! She looks away and prepares her feet to run.
Cedric blinks, adjusting his eyes to the familiar scenery. Pine forests. Songs of yellow-rumped warblers. Gentle mountain rivers. They must be near District Seven. He takes a deep breath of the mountain air to calm his nerves and sets his sights on the Cornucopia. A couple spaces away is Rina. He gives her a thumbs up, even though he still doesn't feel fine. He gives Anetha a wary look, watching for any sign of betrayal. She seems okay, at least for now. He takes a deep breath.
I guess we're trusting her.
55…
Barrett's forehead is furrowed; his eyes are narrowed; he searches the ring for Bryson, starting with the tributes nearest to him. Where is he? His heart sinks as his gaze ventures further and further from his pedestal until it hits the bottom of his stomach—if he can't see the kid, then the kid must be on the opposite side of the Cornucopia, his view obstructed by the huge golden horn. He grits his teeth. Finding Bryson will be risky, but it's a risk he's willing to take. As long as his ally doens't do anything stupid, everything will be fine.
Please be wise, Bryson.
Chaos is excited. Terrified, but excited. There's a very real chance of dying, but his adrenaline is pumping and his mind is flying and he's never felt this ready before in his life. He knows he's built for excitement, and the Hunger Games are the highest level of excitement, especially here at the Cornucopia. Perhaps he wouldn't ever have volunteered, but he was reaped and fate had brought him here. There's no use in looking back so he begins planning.
Tall stacks of crates… there's potential there.
50…
Lannister doesn't feel so sure anymore. He's lived his entire life confident that his one destiny was to kill and win the Hunger Games, but now, he wonders if he could've chosen a different path, one that would've brought him somewhere that wasn't here, the Arena, where violence is law and killing is good. He glances at Jasmine. His parents would disapprove of her so much if they saw what happened last night, but she's right and they're wrong.
Alas, the realization came far too late! He no longer has a choice, and so he prepares to charge. Zeus is to his left. Cleo isn't too far to his right. He'll be okay.
Baize fidgets as he searches for Orysa, eventually spotting her about a third of the way down his left. His blood is boiling, his hands balled into fists that wish to find themselves connecting with the President's face or a Gamemaker's face or even Caesar Flickerman's face—he came so close last night during the at-home interviews—but that'll have to wait until after he escapes this cursed Arena. He realizes that Orysa has a concerned look on her face, and so he forces himself to calm down for her sake.
But if he gets out of here… oh boy, the Capitol has it coming.
45…
When Evelyn looks away, planting her gaze towards the tower of goods at the center of the ring, Reuben wants to scream. He wants to yell at her, tell her to stay back, keep her away from the center. But no matter what he does, she won't look back at him. Do I just leave? He sighs. If she's going in, then he's going in too—he knows he won't be able to ditch her.
Now… where's Achan…
Anetha crosses her arms and stomps her foot impatiently. She's done with all the bull of the Capitol. Just get on with it! She spies Integra a few pedestals away, who's trembling slightly and wiping at her eyes. It hurts to watch. Back in Eleven, she would've protected a girl like her, stood up for her, forced any aggressor back—but this isn't home! She's in the Hunger Games, and so the kind girl from Three that tugs at her heartstrings must also go. On her other side, she locks eyes with Naaman. Ugh. Now this boy… he's a different story.
40…
Hass trembles in nervous anticipation as he scans the circle for the members of his coalition. Cedric, Rina, Anetha, Naaman, Viyella, Baize, Orysa… He's done his best to pull them together as best he can; they'll be his shields. It doesn't matter whether the Star Alliance gains the upper hand or not. As long as his coalition is keeping them busy, he won't have to face them. Should his coalition do well, he'll stick around. Should they fall, he'll be the first to flee.
It's time.
Cleo just feels annoyed. She only ever volunteered because of pressure from others; she never wanted to go into the Hunger Games. Last night only strengthened her realization that everything would've been better if she hadn't volunteered, even if it meant being rejected by family. But cameras are everywhere, and so she puts on a confident smile to hide her annoyance, hoping that fighting for her life will smother any opinions rising up inside so that she'll never have to express them or release them, maintaining her peace with her environment and avoiding any potential conflict. At least for now, she'll force herself to enjoy the Hunger Games, if only to avoid rocking the boat.
35…
Elena is ready. She's strong, even without one arm. She's agile, able to get in and out before others have a chance to process. But most importantly, she's smart. She knows about Hass' coalition; she knows who's in it. She knows they plan to attack the Star Alliance; she knows that they'll be her shields. If an Inner District tribute comes after her, she'll just put one of the coalition members in the way. She spies a rope with a backpack nearby; it's near the mouth of the Cornucopia but it's the only way she can guarantee good loot. Without two arms, she's severely limited by how much she can carry.
Let's do this.
Viyella spots Baize first, but he's looking over at Orysa, his ally. She sighs. She's done her best to take care of him, to keep him out of trouble, to get him on track—and now she has to let go of him. But more importantly, she needs to let go of any hesitation. She squeezes her eyes shut and pictures the faces of her family. Her absent parents, Harris, Terry, Lena. When she kills, loses her humanity, turns to violence—it'll be for them. The Game isn't fair and she knows it, but that's why she jumped aboard Hass' risky plan.
I don't complain about my problems… I make them right.
30…
Jasmine doesn't want to fight. She doesn't want to kill. She doesn't want any of this! But there's no way out now, and so she'll have to murder. Atop the mound in the center is a silvery gold rapier, gleaming in the sunlight. That one is for her, and she knows it. She knows that once her hand grasps the hilt, she'll do what she was trained to do—to slice, dice, and slaughter. And so she squeezes her eyes shut, remembers what it felt like to feel human as she cried with Lannister, and braces her feet to sprint.
Rina's mind is whirring; her natural self defense mechanisms are back in full force. Though her body's screaming at her, she tries to shut down any emotion, any instinct, anything until all that's left is cold, real logic. But then she looks back to Cedric and he gives her another thumbs up, instantly sending her back to their conversation from that morning. She takes a deep breath and lets the pain hit her on every side until the weight of facing her reality feels too much to bear—
But then the ray of light comes and the tension inside quiets slightly to a manageable volume in her ear. You're stronger than you think. She glances at Cedric one more time and wishes him the best.
Thank you so much.
25…
Achan's still a little dazzled from the brightness, a little off-kilter from his nap in the launch room. For once, his ability to sleep is a gift, not a curse. He isn't sleep-deprived; he'll have the energy to make it through the day. But he blinks hard and forces himself to focus, to be at the top of his game, no matter how much effort it is. Reuben gets his attention from a few spaces down and nods towards the Cornucopia. Didn't they originally plan to stay out of the Bloodbath? But Reuben's clearly going in, so he nods, albeit hesitantly.
Changing plans last-minute is draining.
Bryson can't see Barrett, and that immediately dials up his nerves to a ten. He's weaker than most of the others; he has no chance if he gets caught. But that means that he'll have to plan by himself, without any input from his larger, stronger ally. He runs through the things he'll need. Food… water… a knife… He'll want a backpack, and only the ones near the mouth are full. His nerves hit eleven. There's no way I'm going there… right? He glances at the tributes around him—none of them are from the Star Alliance. His eyes wander back to the Cornucopia, watching the pile longingly. He's small, fast, and sneaky. Perhaps he could make it? The reward would be worth the risk. Barrett would disapprove…
Sorry, Barrett.
20…
Alia bounces lightly on her pedestal, her entire body wanting so badly to just go and run and win. But the timer on the clock says twenty more seconds, and so she'll have to wait. She spies Devrell not too far away, and she waves. This will be just like training, where the two of them played around with the combat simulations for hours. It'll hurt to leave him when she breaks off from the Star Alliance to carve a name for herself, but she knows it's an inevitable loss.
Oh well. She's going to enjoy the last moments of fighting on the same side.
Naaman is on edge, his muscles tingling, his mind racing as he runs through the risk he's about to take. If it works, it will be one of the greatest things he's ever done. If it fails, he'll be dead. Gone. Packed in a crate and sent back to Eleven.
That ain't that bad, is it?
He laughs at the comforting finality and scans the circle until he finds Anetha. He cocks his head—You still down?—and she nods, flashing a wicked smile. It worries him—is she excited, or she going to kill me—but he's going to go through with the plan anyway.
Worst case, death—and that's not that bad, amirite?
15…
Orysa isn't convinced. Although Baize's scowl has disappeared and a determined line has appeared on his face, she knows that he's still angry inside—and that anger is risky. She closes her eyes for one moment to wish for his safety, that he won't do anything rash, or stupid, or emotion, or—
Enough about him! What will I do? She's agreed to help take down the Star Alliance, so she searches the ground for weapons—the faster she can attack, the quicker this will all be over. She gives Baize one more quick glance.
We're both getting out of this alive.
Dove sees Hass to her right, and her heart skips a beat, first in anger but then in cruel, vengeful excitement.
Oh… you're so going to get it. And you'll deserve every last bit of it.
When his tense eyes meet hers, she gives him a smile and waves. He waves back, not suspecting anything. She scans the ground before her—there's nothing nearby but a single knife. She balls her hands into fists and calms her pounding heart.
Time for revenge.
10…
As he shifts his weight from leg to leg, Devrell's entire body tingles as the adrenaline rush in his bloodstream hits every muscle. The holographic timer above the golden horn is down to its last ten seconds, and he bends down slightly in the posture to sprint. He takes another glance at his allies—Alia winks, Cleo visibly sighs, Zeus ignores him, the Ones look… distressed?—and he cracks his knuckles. He can already feel the hard ground under his feet, the wind rushing past his ear, the thrill of the run. I'm so ready to go!
Integra wants to cry—no, she's already crying, a tear spilling out of her eyes and rolling down her cheek. Even if she doesn't die, others will, and the thought is enough to rip her heart in two. Her eyes meet Anetha's, and the Eleven girl gives her a weak smile. Though it isn't much, Integra sees such strength in it, and it gives her just enough grit to pull herself together and prepare to run. She bites her lip. This won't be pretty, but she just might make it.
5…
Zeus carefully observes the other tributes in the ring, watching as they communicate with each other. The girl from Nine waves at the boy from Seven. The girls from Three and Eleven are awfully friendly with each other. And everyone keeps looking at the boy from Five. There's not much time left on the clock when it clicks—there's an unspoken alliance among the others, and the boy from Five is at the center of everything. That explains training… The gravity hits him. He'd have no problem taking down one or even two of the untrained, but if they mobbed him, even he'd go down. So… the boy from Five…
Marleigh's eyes light up when she spies Dove a few pedestals to her right. She had thought she'd be going in alone; never would she have expected such a nice girl to come looking for her. But her excitement quickly fades when she sees Dove's hungry eyes fixated on a knife. For a split second, their eyes meet, and Marleigh's gut wrenches. Dove wouldn't… kill, would she? Though it doesn't make sense, her decision is made at the last second before the gong rings. She turns and prepares to sprint into the woods on the other side of the Cornucopia, opposite of Dove.
0.
The gong rings, the mines are deactivated, the tributes spring to life like a wind-up toy let go. For a moment, the only sounds are the heavy breathing, the feet on dirt, the wind rushing by their ears.
It isn't long until the screaming begins.
Dove dashes to the knife with a wicked smile on her face and picks it up as Hass comes up behind her, pressing for the supplies further in. He yelps as she tackles him to the ground, waving the knife maniacally.
Stab. Hass rolls out of the way, and the knife digs into the dirt. She grunts as she yanks it back out.
Stab. This one connects, and the boy's screams fill her ears. She grins.
Stab. Stab. Stab. Now the boy is still. Moaning, but still. She stares down at the bloody carnage she's causing and decides to kill any feeling of remorse along with the boy that turned her ally against her.
This is what you deserve.
She's gonna have some fun.
From a distance, Orysa watches Dove destroy Hass and her stomach flips.
She seemed so nice in training. Good thing I turned her down.
Trying to block the image out, she presses forwards, running towards the center. All around her, there are knives, spiked flails, and other smaller weapons away from the mouth of the golden horn, but the Star Alliance is aiming for the prize weapons at the center. She grits her teeth.
It's now or never.
She swoops up a flail and swings it at the nearby girl from Four. There wasn't any time for precision; her aim is off and the Four girl is alert. The spiked end only grazes the Four girl's right arm, leaving a dripping trail of blood. The girl grunts. A chill runs down Orysa's spine; goosebumps run down her arm.
I almost killed someone. Just like Dove.
She stops pursuing the girl—I can't kill! Not yet!—but the picture of Dove stabbing Hass won't leave her mind.
Hass is dead. Hass is dead. Hass is—
The gravity of the situation hits her. If Hass is dead, then the coalition will crumble at any moment. Her eyes search the increasingly dangerous environment.
Where's Baize? We have to get out of here!
Jasmine's agile figure reaches the mouth of the Cornucopia faster than any of her allies, and she grabs the gleaming rapier from its gleaming stand on top of a pile of boxes. She forces her squirming stomach to be still.
It's time to kill, whether you like it or not.
She whips around to come face to face with Evelyn. The younger girl shrieks, and Jasmine freezes. The girl's voice from training still rings in her head—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to talk to you, please don't hurt me, I promise I won't get in your way—
"Go!" Jasmine commands, shoving a red backpack into the confused girl's hands. She points at the forests. "Run!"
The girl responds quickly—Thank goodness—and scurries away. Jasmine finds herself staring back at Lannister, who heard the commands and saw the entire scene. He gives her a reassuring smile and draws his finger across his closed lips, zipping them shut. It's only for a moment, but Jasmine's heart is completely at peace. As she returns to being a monster, she clings to the only thought keeping her together.
I did something right… I did something right… I did something right.
Cleo curses under her breath, desperately wishing that she were somewhere else, somewhere calmer, anywhere but where she is, dashing for the weapons in the mouth of the Cornucopia.
That girl from Nine, wounding me before I even had a chance to fight.
Blood drips from her right arm, sending screaming pain up and down her body. When she reaches the center, Jasmine gives her a concerned look.
"What happened?"
"Nine girl," Cleo responds, wincing as she grabs a trident from the pile. Fighting with this is gonna be a pain…
"You stay here," Jasmine says, twirling her rapier, "Guard the supplies. I'll go." She winks at Cleo with a warm smile, and before Cleo can respond, the One girl is gone, off into the fray.
She's not so bad. But that wound still hurts like a—
The boy from Ten approaches, charging towards her—rather, the pile of supplies—like a raging bull. She jabs the trident as him, but he dodges, much more agile than she had expected from a guy of his size. Her arm erupts in pain.
My d— — arm.
She switches to her less accurate left hand as he grabs a box. Expecting him to run, she spears the trident in his projected direction of motion, but he changes direction and hurls the box at her. She bats the box away with the trident. It's heavy, knocking her off balance, and by the time she recovers, the Ten boy is out of range, a nasty whip coiled around his shoulder. Her arm stings again.
Violence is stupid.
Chaos wants to have some fun. Sure, he wants to live, but who says he can't have some fun while he's at it?
He sneakily scrambles over the heaviest tower of crates and peeks around the corner. Zeus isn't too far away. Perfect!
"Hey!" he calls.
Zeus turns around with a stern look and comes after him. When the boy rounds the corner, Chaos shoves the highest crate he can reach, knocking everything down on top of his pursuer, Wooden boards and fruits and knives and backpacks fly everywhere.
"Ha!" he jeers, grabbing a red backpack and bolting while Zeus pulls himself out of the wreckage.
A knife whizzes past his ear, but there's no second one. Chaos' heart is pounding, his lungs heaving, his mind racing—but he smiles. Oh, the wonders of adrenaline! He's further away from the Star Alliance now; there are bigger threats at the Cornucopia for Zeus to worry about.
Who says you can't have a little fun?
Bryson's small figure weaves through the towers of supplies and emerging fights, a backpack on his shoulder. He doesn't want to be presumptuous, but he's proud of himself all the same. What did I say? I can do this! Up ahead, the boy from Eight tears a box open, causing bags of food to spill out.
There's also a knife.
Before the boy can react, Bryson swoops in and plucks the knife away, ignoring the boy's curses.
Supplies? Check. Weapon? Check. All that's left is to get out.
He rounds the corner of the golden horn and crashes into the girl from Two.
For the love of…
His stomach lurches. He shoves her in the abdomen as hard as he can while she's still surprised by his sudden appearance and they both fall to the ground, but she easily rolls him off of her and raises her sickle. His heart nearly stops beating.
It's over.
But then she's gone, and it's just Barrett, a whip coiled around his arm, towering over him. When it takes him a moment to recover, Barrett slings him over his shoulder as they break for the forest.
"You okay, buddy?" Barrett chokes out between his desperate gasps for air.
The ride is bumpy but he's just relieved to be alive. He wipes at the tears of thanks and shock that pool in his eyes. "T- Thanks."
Baize rips open a cardboard box in one of the towers, and bags of various dried fruits spill out like water breaching a dam. As he stuffs them into a bag, something shiny catches his eye.
A knife.
He needs a weapon; he didn't go in far enough. As far as he knows, the rest of the coalition is busy fighting the Star Alliance, so he has some time to gather supplies. The tower also shelters him; he's mostly out of sight from the chaos at the Cornucopia. He reaches for the knife, but just as he's about to grab it, a hand swoops in and swipes it away. He curses at the fleeing figure of the little boy from Nine.
That dastard.
Where can he get another weapon? Up ahead, Viyella grips an ugly knife, going for the girl from Two, who doesn't see her from where she's been tossed by the boy from Ten. But before he breaks to get one for himself, a calloused hand grabs his arm. His blood runs cold in terror. He yelps, trying to break the person's grip.
"Shush!" Orysa half-yells, half-whispers. "We gotta go! Now!"
Dazed, Baize stares at her. "What?"
"Hass is gone. The others are about to scatter. Let's go!"
She grunts and yanks him after her. He stumbles to his feet, trying to keep up with her breakneck pace. He should've tried harder in Physical Education class. Some of the bags of food are tumbling out of his unzipped bag, but there's no time and Orysa doesn't wait for anyone. On their way out, he catches a glance of Dove stabbing a bloody corpse far away from the Cornucopia.
Thank goodness I'm out.
Alia bolts to her feet after being thrown by the hulk from Ten and glares at his retreating figure, with his little friend over his shoulder.
That man… how dare he!
But there's no time to go after him; he's too far off.
Pitter patter, pitter patter approaches from behind. She whirls around and swings her sickle into the girl from Eight, who's gripping a knife, about to bring it down on her. The girl screams, and Alia digs the blade into her, twisting it around for maximum effect. With a grunt, she jerks the sickle out and the dead body falls to the ground.
That was too close. Another moment of hesitation and I would be gone.
She forces the bear from Ten out of her mind as a different problem for a different day—that man is gone for now, and she needs to keep her focus on the Bloodbath happening around her.
But I'll come for you. Just wait and see. Your death will be glorious for me.
Evelyn clutches the backpack close to her chest and runs, runs, runs towards the safety of the forests.
You idiot! Why'd you go so far in?
Reuben and Achan are ahead, each armed with a machete. Her foot catches on a rock as she's passing a tower of crates, and she falls, just as a whizzing sound zips over her head. A spear is lodged in the crates above her. The boy from Two is coming at her with a terrifying sword in hand and she screams.
H-He also wields s-swords? If I hadn't tripped… I'd be gone.
She stumbles to her feet, runs, and then trips again, this time face-planting right in front of Reuben, who yanks her to her feet.
Clang.
The Two boy is upon them. Achan's machete meets the sword, but his weaker frame easily yields to the boy from Two's brute strength and the sword bites into Achan's arm. There's a yelp. She screams. Some kind of force—it vaguely feels like Reuben's grip—tugs her along and she charges forward blindly. The world around her blurs. All that registers is her heaving breaths and the hard dirt ground that meets her boots with every leap forward. Achan's scream sounds again in the distance.
A- Achan's dead, and it's your fault.
Anetha grabs a heavy-duty shovel and whirls around to face the boy from Four, deflecting his spear thrust with a well-time swing of the tool in her hands. He jabs and pokes, but the heavy head of the shovel swings too slowly to keep up. Her confidence dies with every step backwards and the heaviness of dread washes over her.
This is it. I'm not making it out of this one.
Suddenly, Naaman appears behind her opponent, waving a large machete. The boy from Four spins to block the blow, but the machete cuts right through the light wooden spear shaft, sending the spearhead flying off.
The dog finally did something useful.
But before either Naaman or Anetha can get a hit, the unarmed boy barrels away to join his district partner, who's standing atop the pile of supplies in the mouth of the Cornucopia, guarding it from the other tributes.
She has a nasty wound on her arm.
Anetha searches for the other members of the coalition—they could take down the half-armed, half-wounded Fours with three armed people—but she spies Hass' mutilated body in the distance, lying beneath the bloody figure of the girl from Twelve. The Eight girl is dead, a terrible wound in her abdomen. The girl from Nine and the boy from Eight are fleeing; they're passing the pedestals.
Loyalty ends now.
She tightens her grip on her shovel and gives Naaman a wicked smile.
Time for Plan B.
Integra sneaks around the outskirts of the crate towers, wiping her eyes, blocking out the sounds of death, and trying to find anything that could make her useful to her allies as they battle the Star Alliance.
No knives here. I can't wield a sword. Maybe a flashlight…
"Integra!" The Elevens are approaching, fleeing the center of the Cornucopia with three green backpacks.
"Anetha!"
The dark-skinned girl tosses a backpack and a bottle of yellow energy drink at her. "Scram! It's 'boutta get ugly!"
Integra catches the bag and scrambles for the bottle. She wants to follow them, but Anetha made it clear in training—there is no way they can stick together. She yells a thank you, but there's no response. A male scream rings from the other side of the tower she's hiding behind—Dove's district partner—jolting her back to her senses.
She gives the Elevens a grateful glance and breaks for the woods.
Elena's eyes flick around, constantly changing focus to stay aware of her surroundings. Her hunter's ears remain on high alert as she navigates the minefield known as the Cornucopia bloodbath. She knows Hass' doomed coalition won't target her, and as long as they keep the Star Alliance busy, she has time to grab what she needs.
She slips by the girl from Four and grabs a sturdy rope and backpack from the pile of supplies as the girl takes her attention off the supplies to hand her district partner a new weapon. Before either of the two see her, she's off again, backpack over her only shoulder and rope in her only hand.
Ha. Y'all are doin' a pathetic job.
There's a yell from behind her—the boy from One. Crud. She's been noticed. The Elevens are running away on the other side of the Cornucopia. Hass' coalition has fallen apart, and her protection is gone.
But the Seven girl is right up ahead.
With a smirk, she grabs the girl and shoves her in the way between herself and her pursuer before the girl can react. The girl screams a curse at her, but Elena doesn't care. Her honed ears pick up the sound of axe on sword and she relaxes—as much as one can relax while running for her life. It was an absolute success.
I'm just that good.
Marleigh sprints across the edge of the field, barely pausing to even grab supplies. There isn't time to pause. Hass' coalition is holding up the Star Alliance at the Cornucopia, but it won't be long before the survivors come after the tributes along the outskirts.
But Dove?
Was it a mistake to ditch her? She flings her head back for a slight moment, only to see the Twelve girl's small figure, eagerly plunging a knife into a familiar figure, who's unmoving and bloody on the ground. Her stomach flips in confused disgust.
Hass.
She wants to tear her eyes away from the horrific sight, but her eyes are frozen.
He doesn't deserve that.
Right as she passes the circle of pedestals, with the weird blue flowers just a stone's throw away, she crashes into someone and falls to the ground on top of the wailing girl from Six—Evelyn. Above her, Reuben stands with shell-shocked eyes, brandishing a machete. She screams an "I'm sorry," stumbles to her feet, and dashes straight into the woods without looking back. It isn't until her breathing steadies that the irony of the situation hits her, sending a distraught sigh through her lungs.
I betrayed my own ally too.
Barely able to process anything, Reuben grabs Evelyn's hand and pulls her to her feet as the Five girl's lanky figure sprints away. Achan's scream still rings in his ear, and it mixes with Evelyn's crying to form a tumultuous roar that makes it impossible for him to think.
"Let's go!" he yells, tugging on his district partner's shaking hand. We're almost safe! Don't stop now!
But Evelyn's a crying mess. "A- Achan—"
He whips his head back towards the Cornucopia. The girl from Two has spotted them, and she yells at her district partner, who's armed with a throwing spear. The killers are far enough to where they'll never catch up, but if Evelyn doesn't move…
"No! He's coming for us now!" he screams into her face, shaking her by the shoulders.
Shocked back to her senses, she immediately takes off. He takes one last look at their pursuers and bolts after Evelyn, through the flowers, zigzagging through the trees. A spear thuds as it strikes the tree beside him.
Must… Go… Faster…
Feet on pine straw. Sweat running down his cheek. Trees whizzing by.
Heave… heave… heave…
After what feels like an eternity, the calmness of the woods hits him. No one pursued them.
"Evelyn!" he pants, slowing to a jog.
Up ahead, she skids to a stop and looks back at him, the same teary look from before plastered on her face. "W- What?"
He pumps his fists in the air and collapses onto the soft pine straw. "We made it!"
Clang. Rina's axe connects with the sword of the boy from One, who's adeptly forcing her backwards towards the golden horn behind her.
How did everything go so wrong?
Hass is dead, and so is the girl from Eight. The dead girl's district partner and the girl from Nine are nowhere to be seen. The Elevens and the girl from Three are scattering, leaving only herself and Cedric still around—and neither of them will be around much longer once the rest of the Star Alliance overwhelms them.
That d— — b— — from Ten. She forced me into this.
In the corner of her eye, she sees her retreating space diminish as she steps back, and back, and back, parrying his blows with the familiar tool—no, weapon in her hand.
I only have about ten seconds left.
The realization hits her like a falling tree and her whirring mind grasps for a way out.
Think, Rina, think!
But then there's a clunk, and the boy falls to the ground, revealing Cedric with a large flashlight in his hand. He stares at the fallen boy in front of him and takes an uncertain step backwards. "Is he… dead?"
She nudges the body with her foot and raises the axe. "I don't know—we don't have—"
The girl from One suddenly appears behind Cedric, and Rina doesn't have time to respond before the girl yells "Lannister!" and sends her rapier digging into his abdomen.
Cedric! No!
The words are stuck in her frozen throat. His body, eyes wide open with shock, falls towards her, but she breaks left, eyes fixed on the safety of the familiar pine forests as she sprints as fast as she can. She doesn't know if the girl's chasing her; she doesn't care.
Statistically, the odds of—
"Shut up!" she screams at herself. The wind rushing past her ears fills her with a wild howling. She glances back—there's no one behind her. Her eyes register the District Elevens on the other side of the dirt clearing, rushing towards the bridge over the river. The girl swings her shovel at the boy—and he goes down.
The Eleven boy goes down.
She just killed her district partner. What kind of person even does that?
She bites her cheek and forces herself to look away and keep going. The coalition is long over. Everyone is on their own now. The ground beneath her goes from hard dirt to soft pine needles, and she collapses behind a tree, gasping for air.
Just survive. Forget the plan. Forget taking down the Star Alliance.
The thoughts hurt, but logic hurts more. She forces herself to finish the progression in her head.
Forget Cedric.
That's the logical conclusion, but it doesn't make her feel any better. With a heavy heart, she climbs back to her feet and continues into the forest, going up, up, up the mountain.
Dove looks up from Hass' dead body at the rapidly diminishing supplies ahead. Drat. She regrets taking her sweet time with Hass at the outskirts of the ring—there's no way she'll come out unscathed if she rushes in for supplies now.
Where's Marleigh?
She's nowhere to be seen, even as Dove searches the scene for any sign of her ally. Forget her; time's running out. But coming at her is a familiar female figure, clutching a green backpack and a bottle full of a yellow energy drink.
Hello, traitor.
"Come with me!" Dove shouts as she waves at the rapidly approaching Integra, whose panic-stricken face alights with relief.
Integra falls into step beside her former ally, only for her back to erupt in blinding pain. She screams and collapses to the dirt, sending the items in her hand tumbling everywhere. Tears flood her eyes. Who? What?
"Take that!" Dove snarls, "Traitor!"
The last blurry sight Integra sees is Dove's disappearing figure, green and yellow in her arms, dripping red.
The dirt clearing is now empty of tributes, save for the five standing members of the Star Alliance and the six bodies laid on the ground in various unmoving postures. Jasmine stoops over Lannister, shaking him. Devrell offers to help Cleodora with her wounded arm, but the girl waves him away. Zeus yanks a spear out of a tree and walks back, breathing hard. Alia stands at a distance, sipping a bottle of water, watching the others with a calculated look in her eyes.
In the woods, Rina wanders aimlessly, trying to keep herself from thinking. The District Six pair march on, with Reuben's arm around Evelyn's trembling shoulders. Chaos' observant eyes search the trees, looking for any twists of the Gamemakers. Marleigh finds a hollow under a fallen tree and stops to mourn her district partner.
On the opposite side of the river, Anetha watches the golden horn from the safety of the woods with a mournful look in her eyes—Naaman was no more than a dog, but she lost her last bit of home with him. Dove takes careful steps, shuddering with every sound from the woods—she's alone and she doesn't like it. Orysa and Baize press forward in an uncomfortable silence that feels like it could choke. Barrett sets Bryson down and immediately wraps him in a warm bear hug, allowing him to pour out his terrified tears in the shelter of Barrett's arms.
Unlike the other tributes, Elena follows the river—she wants to be where the other tributes might eventually go. After a sufficiently long walk, she checks her backpack, which holds a bottle of water, some dried fruit, and a knife. Of course the loot is good; I grabbed it from the mouth of the Cornucopia. She slides the knife into her belt and ties the rope into a lasso, winding it around her arm in loose coils, ready to throw at a moment's notice. Time to hunt.
But back on the dusty clearing of the Cornucopia, amidst the bloodstains and bodies, a finger twitches. A chest rises and falls with the tribute's silent breaths. A single pair of eyes creaks open.
I'm not dead.
A/N Hooooo boy… Here we are! The 37th Hunger Games have officially begun! I will do eulogies but only after The Fallen report confirms the deaths in the sky every night. I did third person so that we wouldn't have a million switching "I"s, but I kept it in present because tribute POVs will always be in present.
And the Victor of the Premonition Meme Competition is… CarrotLord! The runner-up is Firedawn'd! The winning meme, as well as all the other memes, are on the blog! Link is on my profile. Claim your reward by contacting me, either through Discord DM, PM, or email. I guess the runner-up should get something too? I'll give you a goofy sponsor gift too—contact me too!
Some questions if you don't know what to talk about (Feel free to ignore):
What did you expect to happen? What were your reactions/feelings as things happened? Which (potential) death are you saddest about? Who's the not-dead person at the end of the chapter? Predictions going forward?
Thoughts?