Sienna Asher, District 12, 14

"You've still got some blood on your face," Caligula said hoarsely. "On your cheek."

"I really don't think you should be talking," I said, although I did bring my hand to my face. "That can't be good for your throat."

"It's whatever," Cal said, shrugging. In truth, though, it sounded pretty painful. He didn't seem able to speak very loudly, and when he did, it came out fairly scratchy and raw-sounding. And his neck was covered with bruises the size of fingertips. You could practically make out the handprints on his skin.

After our run-in with the Four boy yesterday, we'd traveled deeper into the forest, fleeing in case any of his allies were nearby. If they were, we didn't see them. Once we'd put some solid distance in between us and the dead Career's body, we stopped and got cleaned up. Cal was a mess, but I was absolutely covered in blood. He kept asking me how I was feeling.

"Yes, Cal, I'm fine," I insisted after he asked me again.

"Have you killed before?" Cal asked, trying not to wince as he spoke.

"No," I replied. I swung my legs up from under me, sprawling out on the ground. I kept my eyes on the clouds as I continued. "That was my first time."

But if I want to survive, not the last.

"I just… I don't get it," Cal confessed. "I guess I thought you'd be more freaked out."

"I was freaked out for a little bit," I said. "But what else was I supposed to do? Let you die?"

"Yes."

"I didn't want to do that," I said. "I don't like the idea of people sacrificing themselves for me."

"But it's my choice," he said.

"So I don't get any say in it? I just have to live with your blood on my hands?" I asked. "I don't get why everyone's so focused on dying for me."

"Because-" he began.

"I know, because I'm the nice innocent girl who wouldn't hurt a fly," I said. "But I'm not even innocent anymore. I knew what I was doing yesterday, and I did it anyway. I didn't want you to die like Salome and Jess."

"Your friend's deaths weren't your fault," he said.

"But weren't they?" I asked. "I left them to face the Careers alone. And they died. If I'd done something different-"

"Don't play that game," he interrupted. "You'll torture yourself."

I hesitated, then gave a deep sigh. Maybe I deserved to be tortured. "I feel selfish."

"For wanting to live?"

I nodded.

"Don't," he said.

"But more than that," I said. "For sacrificing other people to get there."

"But we made our choices," he said stubbornly. "We sacrificed ourselves."

"But you deserve to win too," I insisted. "I'm not better than anyone else. I can't even get the blood out from under my fingernails."

"I still think you should've let me go," he said. "It worked out this time, but it was too close."

"I'd do it again," I told him. "Like I said. You deserve to live, too. And I didn't want to lose another friend to my selfishness." I paused. "I think about Salome a lot."

"Me too."

"And Jess… Salome was unlucky, but Jess told me to run while she held them off," I said. "And I let her. Isn't that horrible?"

"No," he said. "She died honorably."

My stomach twisted at his tone. So… reverent. I hate this.

"I hope it didn't hurt," I said. I closed my eyes. "I might as well have killed her myself."

"Glowla and Muir killed her," he replied.

"I might as well have given them the knife," I said.

"Well, you avenged her, right?" he said. "You killed Muir."

"Maybe," I said listlessly. "I… it just doesn't feel right inside."

"That's the problem, isn't it?" he said. "Everyone deserves to win, and no one deserves to die."

"I don't like it," I mumbled. "You Volunteer people are crazy."

"Yeah," Cal agreed. "We are."

I continued watching the clouds as we lapsed back into silence. The past ten days were a confusing, painful mess. I was hoping that if I kept pushing forward, I'd be able to make sense of it all.

Sadie Wilson, District 2, 18

My first day alone.

Honestly, I was enjoying it after the ride I'd been through. The first few days in the arena were an absolute nightmare. My time with Glowla and Muir wasn't terrible, and there were even some good moments, but the paranoia was getting intense. Today, I was planning on taking it easy. I hadn't had any major scrapes in a few days, but the arena was still taking its toll. My muscles had defaulted to aching all the time, and it was becoming more difficult to focus. The stress wasn't helping, either. On top of all of that, I was absolutely filthy. So once I found a deep enough spot in the river, I decided to bathe for the first time in over a week.

I quickly discovered that it was the right call.

The water was amazing against the summer heat. It was cool, but not too cold, and clear as glass. I stripped down to my underwear in order to get as clean as possible, and it was so satisfying to watch the dirt be stolen away by the current. I'd managed to take a small bar of soap from the Cornucopia, and used that to clean my hair as best I could.

The water also helped me perk up a little. The coolness of it helped clear some of the fog in my brain, a welcome side effect after days of turmoil. I took the opportunity to gather my thoughts.

Muir was dead. I saw him in the sky last night. I wasn't sure of what happened to him, but I was glad I didn't need to worry about running into him anymore. Even more so than that, I didn't need to worry about running into him and Glowla, together, anymore. If I had to guess, I'd say Glowla killed him when he wasn't expecting it. Maybe they weren't as friendly as they seemed. After all, right when I thought Muir and Isla were getting along well, he killed her.

With Muir dead, that meant there were seven of us left. Out of everyone else, there were three people I was worried about: Glowla, Cal, and the boy from Nine. Glowla, because she was craftier than she liked to let on; Cal, for obvious reasons; and the boy from Nine, based on the story Muir told us the other day. That kill was pretty heartless, from the sound of it, and anyone capable of big moves like that was someone to watch out for. I didn't plan on underestimating him. The pair from Eight didn't worry me, and neither did Cal's new ally.

I decided right then and there that the boy from Nine was the one I was going after first. Today was for recovering, but tomorrow would be about tracking him down. From what I knew, he was the closest- or at least, the least far. Glowla and Cal were in the complete opposite direction, and I didn't want to waste too much energy on running around the arena. I made a mental note to check out those cabins again; maybe without Cal, I could actually get the jump on him this time. That would be pretty convenient. The next day, I could go after Glowla.

My plans solidified, I let my mind wander. I wondered if Godric was watching me right now. He'd made himself known with a sponsor gift every once in a while, but I had to imagine he was rooting for me. Especially after the bullshit Cal pulled.

I sighed, reminding myself of Glowla's advice: I needed to let him go. I knew it was true. And it was getting easier- every day, there were less and less moments where my thoughts slipped back to his betrayal. The burden of caring was slowly lifting, and I couldn't wait for it to disappear completely. I just needed some more time.

Hopefully, by the time I saw him again, I'd already be free.

Levi Viscose, District 8, 18

"Done," I said, sitting back triumphantly. I dusted the loose dirt off of my hands, surveying our little clearing with a critical eye. Every opening to our small campsite had been blocked with the snares I'd spent yesterday making. It was useful, but also something to do. I'd always preferred to keep my hands busy.

"Looks good," Ianto said.

"That should ease some of your paranoia," I said. "No one can sneak up on us now."

"It helps that another Career is gone," he replied. "It's been too long since a Career death. I know it sounds shitty…"

"No, you're right," I said. "It made me feel better too."

"I can't believe there's only seven of us now," said Ianto. "It feels like we've been in this stupid arena for ages, but at the same time, it's almost been kinda fast. If that makes sense."

"The days blurred together," I said. "Time flies when you're freaking out."

"Isn't it the other way around?" he asked.

"Probably," I said, shrugging. "Maybe I just spend too much time freaking out."

"Probably," he agreed.

"And you don't?" I exclaimed.

He smirked. "I'm cool as a cucumber."

"Yeah, right," I scoffed. "Tell that to those chairs you keep destroying."

"More like my drumsticks," he said. "I've lost count of how many I've trashed."

"You break your drumsticks?" I asked. "But then how do you keep playing?"

"Grab some new ones," he said. "The real problem comes when you break a drumhead."

"Have you done that?"

"Yeah."

"Wow," I said. "I guess sewing's different."

"You're probably right about that," he said. "Breaking your machines might not be the right call."

"I usually try to avoid that," I agreed. I glanced over at him. "Can I crop your jacket?"

"What?"

"I want to crop your jacket," I repeated. "I think it'd be cute on you."

"No way," he replied.

"You're not even wearing it," I said. "Pretty please?"

"Crop your own," he suggested.

"Trust me, you'd pull it off way better than I ever could," I said. "I like loose stuff. It suits my figure better. You're leaner than me."

"What would you even use?"

"A knife."

He eyed me for a moment before replying. "I'll make a bet with you."

"What kind of bet?"

"I don't know, something fun. Like a race or something. If you win, you can crop it. If I win, no dice."

"Whoever ties their shoelaces the fastest," I suggested.

"Lame," he replied.

"Do you have any better ideas?"

He hesitated. "Well…"

"That's what I thought," I said. I started untying my boots.

"We're actually doing this?" Ianto groaned.

"I'm going to crop that jacket," I said.

"I'll be cold at night," he said.

"You can wear mine at night," I said.

"Whatever," he replied. But he started untying his shoes a second later. I hid a smile.

"I'll count down," I said. "Three, two-"

"Go!" Ianto crowed.

"Ianto-"

Ianto clearly wasn't listening, furiously retying his shoes. I quickly gave up and set to my shoes, twisting the laces into knots. Unfortunately for Ianto, I loved shoes. I was a veteran lace-tier. It only took me about ten seconds before I announced, "Done!"

"Wait, what?" Ianto asked, looking over. He only had one shoe done. "Are you serious? You didn't cheat or anything?"

"If I'm remembering correctly, you were the one who cheated," I replied. I held out my hand. "Jacket, please."

"Oh boy," Ianto grumbled. He handed over the jacket, and I grabbed a knife from my backpack. This time, I didn't bother trying to hide the smile. I laid the jacket out on the grass, spreading out the fabric in order to get a decent understanding of what I was working with. Is there a way to preserve the hem? I wonder if people sponsor tributes with sewing machines…

Next to me, Ianto shook his head. "I can't believe this."

"Don't worry, you'll look stunning," I said, squinting as I got to work.

Journie Teffs, District 9, 17

I woke up stiff the next day, my muscles groaning as I stretched. I glanced at the window- I'd slept way past sunrise, maybe even to midday. It was a pleasure to sleep in a real bed last night. After I couldn't cry any more, I went straight to bed, exhausted. Somehow, after all that, though, when I woke up I was still dead tired.

I'd watched the Games for years, and I knew they were difficult, but I'd somehow managed to underestimate just how hard this would be. It's easy to judge when you're watching from home. It's so easy to criticize kids for making the wrong moves, things like dropping their weapons or making a wrong turn. It's even easier to judge when they hook up or become close friends. I was willing to bet that people at home were criticizing me for befriending Reese. I'd heard people say worse about tributes- it was harsh, but cruelty was easier when it wasn't personal. While I'd never seriously considered being Reaped, I'd always thought that if I entered the Games, I'd go it alone. Obviously, that plan didn't work out. Neither did my original idea of 'not killing until I had to.' The old Journie had a lot of ideas that didn't really apply anymore.

I sort of missed the old Journie. I missed the times when my struggles weren't life or death. Home was predictable and comfortable. When I worked in the fields, I knew what I was doing. Even though I'd lost a few fights, I'd done well in the fighting ring, too. Any time wages came up short, I knew I could fall back on a match, the desperation pushing me to the win. The Peacekeepers who liked to bet on the fights knew me fairly well, and often bet handsomely on me. In a weird way, I could almost understand the mentality of the Capitol. Watching fights was fun. I usually liked to stay after my own brawls and watch my buddies go at it. But the Games… the Games were a step too far. Even when I lost, I got to go home to my family at the end of the day. Besides a crooked nose, the results were never permanent. I missed the lack of consequences.

It was strange to think about myself before the Games. I still had those memories, but they didn't really feel like they belonged to me anymore. I felt different. Obviously, I was a murderer now, but beyond that, I just felt so… hollow. I'd never felt empty before. I'd always been surrounded by people who lifted me up, and God, I needed them so much right now. If I had to die here, why couldn't I see my family one more time before I… before I died?

Don't think like that, I told myself. You're close. You can't give up now.

I needed to pull myself together. I could grieve and process this mess when I was safe at home.

Glowla Lush, District 1, 18

I was going to find the Eights today.

As much as I'd liked my last few allies, it was nice to not have to debate strategy with them for once. It was a necessary part of the alliance- making sure everyone was on the same page- but an exhausting one as well. I knew what I was doing; I didn't need to discuss it.

It was freeing.

A refreshing sense of resolve washed over me as I gathered my things and stepped outside the cabin. I had a knife in my hand, a bag on my back, and my hair was pulled into a tight braid. This was what the Games were all about. It was the same way I'd felt on Launch day, before all the alliance dynamics had dragged me down. It was the same way I'd felt hunting with Muir a week ago.

It's been too long, I thought, smiling to myself. The smile was real for the first time in a while. It wasn't to reassure Sadie or gain sponsors- it was for myself.

Thunk.

I looked in the direction of the noise. Off to my left, a small silver parachute had just bounced against the ground. I strode over to it, untangling the package from the chute. It was tiny, and my heart skipped once I saw what was inside.

A deck of cards.

I pulled the deck out of the package, immediately prying open the box and sliding the cards into my hand. I almost laughed out loud at the feeling of slick paper in my hands. They fit so naturally in my palms, and I fanned them out in front of me, admiring the way the sun hit them. The cards were a piece of home and myself all at the same time, and I couldn't be more grateful to Braun for sending them to me.

Braun! I thought. I bent down to pick up the package, wondering if there was a note. Sure enough, a small slip of paper was tucked inside:

There's no such thing as luck. AB

I knew what he was referring to. If I was correct, he meant that the Games were about playing the odds correctly. Something I already knew, but he was reminding me for a reason. I assumed this also meant that the final eight interview went well, if he had enough money to send me this late in the Games.

I tucked the slip into my pocket. I hesitated, but then put the cards back in their box as well. I tucked them into the side pocket of my bag, next to where I had stored the rest of my knives. I'd be able to play with them later, once I'd done what I set out to do. I just needed to be patient.

A long while later, I was walking deep into the woods. A different direction than yesterday, of course. I was thankful I'd already shoved my jacket into my bag, because once again, it was boiling hot outside. The tree's slim leaves did little to block out the harsh sunlight, not to mention the humidity. A few times I almost dropped my knife from the sweat on my hands. I'd eventually decided to just keep it in my pocket. It was safer that way.

I was keeping a sharp lookout for any tracks, but hadn't spotted any yet. I had to assume the Eights were still together: they'd run off together, and they were both still alive, so I was inclined to assume they meant to go to the end together. No alliances ended peacefully at this stage of the Games. I knew if Caligula hadn't killed Muir, I probably would've.

I sighed softly, my early morale boost already waning. I'd anticipated a difficult search- there was no way the Eights wanted to be found, after all- but it was difficult to stay optimistic in such conditions. I supposed that was what the Games were all about, forcing people through inhumane conditions for entertainment, but I wasn't entertained.

You're not the audience, I reminded myself. You're supposed to be the entertainer.

And so I trudged deeper into the forest, prepared to give them a show.

The sun had shifted several degrees when I noticed it: a bootprint.

I stopped, taking a deep breath to steady myself. This was an important moment. I wiped my palm sweat on my shorts, reaching into the pocket where my knife was waiting and wrapping my fingers around it. I traced the direction the print was pointing in and quickly found several more. My heart leapt into my throat as I surged forward, my hand tightening around the blade.

I followed the prints for a while. There were a few times they disappeared, but I kept my cool and continued forward. The path always picked up after a little while, and I was moving much more quickly now.

I came to a stop behind a thick-trunked tree. I'd seen a flash of orange up ahead, I was sure of it. I went for another peek and saw it again. It had to be the boy from Eight. He was about thirty feet away, and I could hear a faint murmur of voices. My assumption was correct- he was still with his district partner. I had half a mind to try throwing from here, but there was no way I'd hit. I might have been okay with the distance, but with the trees and moving targets… too risky. So I slowly slipped closer, extremely cautious about keeping quiet. I needed to catch them by surprise if I wanted to survive a two-on-one encounter.

As I came closer, the voices became clearer.

"You're taking forever," said the boy. "Just cut it already."

"What's the point in rushing?" the girl asked. "Don't you want to look cute?"

"I never should've agreed to this," the boy groaned.

I smirked to myself. They would never see this coming.

I darted closer, making sure to only move when both their backs were to me. The girl was sitting on the ground, but the boy was pacing. I wanted to kill him first- he'd have a decent window of time to reach me if I killed the girl, even if she was the easier hit.

I made another move, pushing towards the nearest tree. This was the one I'd have to throw from. My sights were locked on the tributes, my steps confident.

Thwip.

I looked down just as the stick pierced my ankle. Then I looked up: though small, the noise had alerted the boy to my presence. We locked eyes.

"Levi!" he shouted.

The girl looked up, her eyes widening as she scrambled to her feet. Meanwhile, I brought one arm back, the other reaching for a second knife.

Ianto Baines, District 8, 16

Everything started moving in slow motion.

The Career set her jaw, bringing her arm back. Behind me, Levi got to her feet, her makeshift sewing knife in her hand. I dove for my spear. It was far, but I was convinced I'd be better off with it than without.

Then the girl, her eyes still bored into mine, let the knife fly.

Being stabbed didn't feel the way I'd thought it would. I thought it would feel sharp and hot and painful. Instead, it was like a hard push in the chest, sending me backwards into the grass. I didn't even realize what had happened until I saw the handle sticking out of my chest. That was when the pain hit, making me gasp. When I touched my chest, my fingers came away red.

"Holy shit," I murmured. The realization hit me like a Peacekeeper's fist.

This is the end.

I heard a scream and blinked, looking around. The pain was making my head fuzzy. Levi was on her feet, flying towards the girl with the knife in her hand. The Career was fumbling, reaching for another weapon, while also trying to remove her ankle from the snare Levi had made.

Levi ran up, plunging the knife into the Career's throat. The girl immediately fell to the ground in a limp heap. She stayed down.

Boom.

Levi turned over her shoulder. She dropped the knife when she saw me on the ground. She sprinted back towards me, skidding to a stop as she practically fell to the ground next to me.

The blood was everywhere.

"Levi," I said. Just the one word took so much effort.

"Shhh," she replied, delicately touching my chest. "We have some bandages in the bag, just stay calm while I-"

"Levi, no," I said.

"Stop it," she said. "You just need some fixing up, and you'll be fine."

"It's okay," I said softly. With a groan, I reached up, grabbing the throwing knife embedded in my chest. I gritted my teeth.

"Don't-"

I yanked it out, sending a new wave of blood pouring out over my clothes. My chest started to burn now, and I had to wince at what bad shape I was in. I hoped Owain wasn't watching this.

"Ianto!" Levi shrieked. She practically leapt on top of me, pushing her hands on my chest to staunch the wound.

"Levi," I said again, "I'm going to die, okay?"

"Stop it," she repeated. This time, I saw the tears in her eyes as she started to lose it. "That's not happening. I can't lose you."

I tried to take a deep breath, but it didn't work. The air wouldn't come. So I started breathing more quickly, trying to get some oxygen in. A few times I nearly choked. My mouth tasted like metal.

"Stop it," she pleaded. "Don't leave me."

I reached for her hand, and she snaked her fingers through mine fiercely. My next words were accompanied with some wet-sounding coughs. "Don't let them… write a shitty song… about me," I said.

"Ianto," she cried, full-on hysterical now. "Please don't leave me, I need you… please don't go, please… you're my only friend…"

"You can… do this," I said, swallowing hard. The darkness was creeping into the corners of my vision now. "You have to… take care of him."

"I will," she promised.

"Take… care of… Owain," I choked.

"I will," she said. She squeezed my hand, but it all felt so far away. Even the pain felt distant now. A strange sense of calm settled over me. It was the most peaceful I'd ever felt.

It would be okay. Levi would win, and she and Owain would take care of each other.

They'll be okay.

The last thing I saw was Levi's tearful face, begging me not to leave her. Then the sensation of her hand in mine faded away, and the world became nothing.

Caligula Van Zandt, District 2, 18

Boom.

"Two in a row," I said. "That means five of us left now."

"We're getting close," Sienna said, her voice quiet. She looked over at me. Her eyebrows creased together. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said, my voice husky. I couldn't tell if it was from being strangled yesterday or something else, honestly.

"You don't look fine," Sienna replied. "Are you still thinking about yesterday?"

"Kind of," I admitted.

"I know it's hard for you to think about, but I wouldn't change what I did," Sienna said.

"Well… it's not really that," I said. "There's only five of us now, and I have to imagine we'll see Sadie soon, right?"

"Probably," she replied. "If she's as good as you say, neither of those cannons were hers."

I was confident they weren't. I shook my head. "Muir said something yesterday, and I can't stop thinking about it."

"What did he say?"

"I was trying to reason with him, you know," I said. I reached for a small patch of grass near my waist, running my fingers through it as I spoke. "He made it clear he didn't want to listen, but…"

"What did he say?" Sienna repeated.

"He said, 'I'm not Sadie. I don't care what you have to say,'" I answered.

"So she still cares?" Sienna asked.

"I don't think he'd lie," I said. "So yeah, maybe."

Sienna and I had gotten to know each other pretty well over the past few days, but Sadie was the one subject I'd held back on. Knowing Sadie, I would've thought she wouldn't want to hear from me. But maybe… maybe she was still willing to listen?

"Is that a good thing?" Sienna asked. "It is, right?"

"I don't know," I said. "I guess we'll have to see."

The sun sank below the sky for the tenth time. Not much longer, we watched the stars, anxious to see who was still standing.

The first face in the sky was Glowla.

"That's good," I muttered. I'd never had any issues with her, but she'd always been a little calculating for my taste.

"Yeah," Sienna echoed. "She helped kill Jess."

I looked over at her, but Sienna's gaze was fixed on the sky.

I'd mostly dropped it since this morning, but the thoughts lingered. Yesterday was a strange sight, to see such a small, innocent person drenched in blood and a knife in her hand. What was weirder still was the way she'd handled it. It was almost enough to distract me from what Muir had said. I'd been prepared for Sienna to be a mess, but she'd maintained her composure well. Every time I asked, she said she was fine, and she seemed to be telling the truth.

At least she seems to be okay, right?

Suddenly, her expression shifted. I looked back to the sky, and the face among the stars had changed. I faintly recognized him.

He was the one dragging Sienna away at the Bloodbath.

As the Capitol's anthem faded, Sienna's eyes filled with tears.

"I'm sorry," I said gently, trying not to wince at the pain in my throat.

She pressed her lips together tightly. Her chin trembled a little. "He saved my life once. If it weren't for him, I would've died on the first day."

"He sounds nice," I ventured.

"He was grumpy, but he always meant well," she said. She sighed. "I hope Levi's okay."

"I do too," I said.

Sienna sighed, lost in her thoughts. It only took a few moments for me to become lost in my own.

Augustus Braun, District 1 Mentor, 35

I returned to the first floor of the Training Center to find the lights on, despite me specifically turning them off the last time I was here. Upon hearing a noise from the kitchenette, I reached for a nearby candlestick. I was the only one staying here, and I didn't intend to be caught off guard by an intruder.

Glowla Lush died today. A disappointment, but one I'd recover from. At least she'd placed in the top eight- I expected nothing less for her. She'd also taken someone down with her, which I appreciated. I had a few ideas of who could win. I hadn't decided on one yet. However, I had a fairly good idea of who wouldn't.

In the meantime, I approached the kitchen, gold candlestick in my hand. I turned the corner to find-

"Aurelia?" I asked, lowering the candlestick.

Aurelia turned around, a bowl of food in her hands. "What?"

"What are you doing here?" I snapped. "This is my floor."

"We're both District One. This is our floor," she retaliated.

"Aurelia-"

"Out of the running, I guess?" she said, looking me up and down.

"Have you been staying here the entire time?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Irrelevant," she said dismissively. "And that's tough. Maybe if I was her Mentor, as I was meant to be, she'd still be alive."

"You're ridiculous," I scoffed. "You've abandoned the tribute you still have, and you're going to tell me how to Mentor? The person who got you out of the arena?"

"I got myself out of the arena," she replied. "And why would I pay attention to a hopeless case?"

"Because it's your job," I snapped. "Frankly, Aurelia, I expected some indifference, but I didn't expect this from you. Your behavior has been disgusting."

"I. Don't. Care," she said.

"You have a responsibility to your tribute and your country to do this job," I said. "If they weren't running low on Mentors, you'd have no chance of returning next year. And you know what? If you gave a damn about that girl, you might actually have a chance of returning to One next year. Your attitude is condemning you to a lifetime of Twelve."

Aurelia glared at me. "Don't make this about patriotism, Braun. We both know this is about you."

"About me?" I asked, incredulous.

"We both know you wanted him to win instead," she hissed. "We both know you pick favorites, and we both know you didn't. Pick. Me."

"You're a petty little child," I said.

"Maybe," she replied. "But I'm not going anywhere. I lived, bitch."

*Eulogies:

7th: Glowla Lush, D1F (knifed by Levi): I loved Glowla the second I read her form. Her seriousness and competitive nature was one of the few steadfast elements of the Games, as well as her alliance. She was never distracted from her goal, and it was clear from the start that she was a serious contender. Her relationships with her allies were so much fun to write. I think I speak for the class when I say our favorite Glowla moment was when she snitched on Isla in training. Honestly, I adored Glowla, and she was a pleasure to write. I'm sad to see her go. Thank you to glimmerglint for submitting Glowla.

6th: Ianto Baines, D8M (throwing knifed by Glowla): This death devastated me. I've been dreading writing it for a long while, and I think it's because I'm just so proud of him. He is one of the few the Games changed for the better. When he was Reaped, he was so angry with the world and everyone in it. And somehow, mostly through his friendship with Levi, he managed to grow to a place where he could die a peaceful death. Ianto, you deserved so much better than what you got. I'm sad to see you go. Thank you to TheWatcherofTheVoid for submitting Ianto.

Kills:

Glowla- 3 (Ianto, Ethan, Jess)

Caligula- 1 (Salome)

Sadie- 3 (Virgil, Ainsley, Deltro)

Damion- 1 (Halley)

Muir- 4 (Damion, Isla, Parker, Dale)

Travis- 1 (Samuel)

Chaney- 1 (Reese)

Levi- 1 (Glowla)

Journie- 1 (Travis)

Alula- 1.5 (Cataleya, but also Alula)

Sienna- 1 (Muir)

Mutts- 1 (Chaney)

Alliances:

Redemption Seekers: Caligula, Sienna

Loners: Sadie, Levi, Journie

So, uh... yeah, I cried a bunch with this one. I adore all of my final 8, and saying goodbye to these two was difficult. It's crazy that there's only five standing. That being said, the next chapter is not the finale, but the chapter after that will be...

The blog will be updated ~momentarily~ per usual, and I'll see you guys next weekend with Day 11!

-r-b*