Astra Porter, District Six
Astra awoke to incessant beeping. Although not particularly loud, she had trained herself since the Games began to wake at the slightest sound. And, as the Games went on, she felt less and less secure about sleeping for too long. It was easier with Tanner. Sure, being injured their entire time together meant that he wouldn't have been much use in a fight, but his voice still worked, which allowed them to sleep in shifts.
But Tanner was gone now. Astra knew she didn't have time for mourning, but recognizing his death hurt. Before, the only person in her life to die was her grandmother, before she herself was old enough to fully understand it.. She wasn't prepared for the dark intimacy of death, the way it put memories of knowing someone on display, as if to taunt you that there would never be any new ones. Every time she took a breath, she felt like she breathed death in, and when she exhaled a little of her own life went with it.
Perhaps, she supposed, that was why she created the broadcast to the other tributes. Truthfully she still wasn't sure why she'd done that. All she could figure was that existing here had caused her to lose it a little bit. Astra knew that it wasn't going to help her long term survivability, doing something guaranteed to make an enemy of the gamemakers themselves. But she didn't regret it. If she couldn't speak her mind here, where she could die any second, when could she?
Again, she heard the beeping, jolting her from the spiral of her inner monologue. She expected a tube to drop, but instead, a large hole opened up nearby where she hid within the cave and a medium sized shipping crate slid down to her. It landed at her feet with a dull thud, close enough for Astra to see that a letter had been pinned to the front-facing side. Sliding her thumb between the paper and a small magnetic seal that clasped it into a fold, she unfurled the page and read carefully using what little light she had here.
'Dear Astra,
'You remind me a lot of myself when I was younger. That is a good and a bad thing, I think. I got in a lot of trouble when I was younger. I hope that you haven't taken anything I said too personally. I was pretty sure you would focus more if you had someone to compete against.'
Astra dimly remembered a conversation with her mentor during her private training sessions before the Games. Hebe told her she believed Raleigh would go further than her. After that, Astra trained harder than she ever would have thought possible. She wasn't sure whether she was more angry about the manipulation or the fact that it had worked.
'I have been holding on to this for some time. People would make fun of me, ask me why I would keep such a thing. This is the answer. I was always saving it for someone who deserved it. I was always saving it for you.'
'-Hebe'
Astra couldn't ever remember seeing a letter as long as Hebe's in any of the Hunger Games she watched growing up. She wondered if Hebe had to pay extra for that. But the true mystery was the contents of the crate. She quickly pried the top off and gasped at what she found.
Inside the box was the crossbow that Hebe Dagnus had used to win her Hunger Games.
"Daphne." Astra said aloud to herself, taking it gingerly in both hands, like the holy relic she and all of District Six considered it to be. She doubted anyone outside of District Six would know what the name this crossbow was important to Hebe. And out of everyone fighting, out of every tribute the mentor had trained so far,Hebe had passed it on to her.
Around her, the ground began to shake, leaving Astra no more time for admiring the impressive weapon. Panicked, she made her way towards the surface, carrying as many of her supplies as she could in fear they might be destroyed if there was a cave-in. Finally she stopped at the mouth of the cave, and the ground quaked once again, as some terribly enormous thing burst from the sandy black dunes.
Jet black against the dim grey sky, and hard as stone, the creature gnashed a circular hole full of row upon row of teeth where a mouth should be. As it rose it blotted out the sun Astra saw a gigantic worm like nothing she had ever seen before. But she also caught a glimpse of something on the monster's back. She placed a hand over her eyes to get a clearer look.
On top of this enormous mutt, were three tributes.
Elixane Marcus, District Three
"And you thought reading books was worthless!" Ashlar whooped as he adjusted the long metal rod wedged under the Wyrm's scale and the mutt changed direction accordingly.
Elixane considered complimenting him and admitting she was wrong, but her pride was too great for that. Also, and more importantly, she was trying not to vomit. The Wyrm was massive, and while they were safely atop its back, nestled into a divet between its dark scales, it didn't seem particularly occupied with giving them a smooth ride. Elixane was surprised that Rust was actually managing to hang on at all. The scales were slippery, like a sanded down stone, and he was small enough that he could easily slide out of the gaps. Yet despite the rough travels, Rust seemed to hold on resolutely. The boy from Nine had a habit of surprising her. He was young, poorly trained in the way of the Hunger Games, if at all. Yet he was smarter than most tributes by half, and made up for his inexperience with enthusiasm and grit.
"Are we close?" She asked Ashlar.
"Very. I can see the Pit now. But well… I'm not entirely sure how to land this thing where we want it." he replied.
"They didn't say in that precious book of yours?"
"Not really, no."
"If you get us close to the ground, we could probably just jump off." Rust suggested.
"Are you sure?" Elixane asked, "I'm pretty sure Ashlar and I could do that. But can you?"
"I'll be fine."
Elixane was in the habit of believing people, so she didn't push things. Instead she adjusted from a sitting position into a crouch and waited for the wyrm to get closer to the ground.
The first few minutes were so perfect they hardly felt real. She landed near the edge of the Pit, rolling to cushion the blow. She descended the stairs, staying close to the wall to avoid falling. That was what saved her life, because she was scarcely three steps down when the Wyrm hit the ground. Behind her, Rust slid, and she had to hold up an arm to prevent him from falling over the edge like Ashlar had. He steadied himself and pressed up against the wall in turn, as Titania's voice rose from the bottom of the Pit.
"What the hell was that?"
Hearing footsteps scuff against stone nearby, Elixane froze, holding her position on the stairs. She looked down, just in time to see Titania emerge from the edge of the Pit with her sword in hand, scanning the surrounding space for the source of the sound. In seconds, she could look up, and the element of surprise would be gone. Elixane was reasonably sure she could take Titania in a fight, and Ashlar scored better than both of them, but losing that advantage would still be a risk.
It was a risk she wasn't willing to take.
Launching herself off the stairs, Elixane unsheathed her sword in midair and slashed down at Titania before landing in a roll. One year, during a Hunger Games she watched as a child, a Career performed the move to strike a killing blow and be crowned Victor. She was so enamored with it that, once she was allowed into combat training, the move was one of the first things she ever attempted. Countless sprained ankles and bruises were sustained trying to perfect it.
But all that hard work paid off now. Titania screeched, recoiling, protecting the deep gash left in her arm by Elixane's sword with her free hand. Things finally seemed to be coming together, Elixane was proving herself as the Career she was always meant to be. After her work here, District Three would never be considered a lesser district again.
Having dropped her sword in the initial attack, Titania took the halberd from her back and charged at Elixane, so ferociously quick that she had very little time to deflect the blow. She felt the weapon bite into her leg, and knew instinctively she had barely stopped it from hitting a major artery. All the same, she was cut deep, forced to shift her weight.
There was no time for pain. Elixane raised her sword once more to strike again. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Serena May attempting to intervene, only to be blocked by Ashlar. She couldn't see Rust from her position. Hopefully the boy had enough sense to hide himself.
"It's a little unfair, don't you think?" Titania said, "If you and I had been in different years it's possible we both could have won."
Elixane ignored her. One advantage of having Ashlar as a district partner was that she had some experience fighting against polearms, but most of the time she sparred with sword-wielding foes. Titania's range was quickly proving to be a significant threat requiring all of her concentration. Titania most likely knew that and was only talking to distract her with chatter.
Yet the girl from One seemed to take her silence as an excuse to keep talking. "It makes you think, doesn't it? If you can't win, how would you like to go out? How do you want to die?"
Despite her best efforts, the words lingered in Elixane's head. A quick jab from Titania caught her midsection and she failed to jump far enough out of the way to prevent the tip of the halberd grazing against her stomach. Elixane never allowed herself to consider how she might die before now, but it troubled her, wondering what she would prefer if she knew she had to. That sort of defeatist attitude only led to losing, in her opinion. Winning was the only option, the only thing she let herself think about.
However, she felt herself slipping, dangerously close to failure now. Titania knew every inch of the Pit, she had the range advantage, and was covering for her injured arm admirably. Elixane, on the other hand, was only still standing due to the adrenaline coursing through her veins. This could very well be her last battle.
She risked a glance in the direction of her district partner. Relief washed over her as she saw that Ashlar seemed to be doing better than she was currently. Serena May was cornered against one of the walls of the Pit. Although she was surprisingly adept fending off his attacks, it was only a matter of time.
Although she returned her gaze and her body to the fight at hand, Elixane's mind continued wandering, fixated on the question. How would she want to die if given no other choice? She realized, with a breathless laugh, that she most likely would have chosen something like this for herself. The last thing she ever wanted was to waste away in District Three, never accomplishing anything. She wanted to die eyes open, on her feet, risking everything to prove herself.
"I want to die like we are now," She finally said, parrying another swipe of Titania's halberd, then closing in for a thrust.
"That's a good choice." Titania said, "I was always doing this for my mother. And I know she'd want me to come back more than anything... but I think she would be satisfied knowing that I died to save someone else."
Elixane didn't expect the thrust of her sword to strike true. She anticipated a parry, or perhaps for her opponent to sidestep the attack. Instead, Titania turned to pull a stake nailed down near the stake came three, loosening a rope that had been coiled around it. There was a sickening squelch,a sensation of metal pushing past flesh, and then the girl from One collapsed at the end of Elixane's blade.
Boom.
Why? Why did Titania turn like that? Why didn't she block the attack? Elixane barely had time to think about these questions before a terrible rumbling forced her attention to the Pit around her.
As she and her allies made their descent, none of them had noticed that the Pit was modified in the time since they were there last. The supports holding up the stairs had been hollowed out except for a lone column. While it might have been sturdy enough to keep the stairs standing as they made their way down, now there were cracks appearing along the length of the beam. Elixane noticed a rock nearby just in time to piece together what was going on. The rope that had been tied around the stake must have been holding that rock aloft. Another roar of instability confirmed her fears. Titania and Serena May had booby trapped the stairs, and now they were about to fall.
Ashlar Granodum, District Three
He had her.
Despite Ashlar's initial expectations, the girl from Seven proved to be a capable fighter, holding him off with a hand axe by herself. And all the while, she looked for openings to escape him, and move to aid Titania. But with superior training, it wasn't long before he had her backed into a corner. At most, he figured she could fend off three moves, before he found his opening to kill her.
And then the walls began to shake.
Several thoughts fired in such rapid succession that it almost felt like time itself was slowing down. First, the stairs were falling, and in a few seconds, unless he moved, they would crush him into the ground beneath a wave of rubble.
Second, Elixane was on the other side of the Pit, having finished off Titania and moved towards one of the cavern doors. There was no time to reach her before the avalanche, but with luck, they could meet back up later. Serena May had used the distraction to get away from Ashlar, but instead of leaving the Pit, she was bent over Titania's limp form. There was another cavern entrance close by, Ashlar's best shot for getting out of there relatively unharmed. Third and finally, Rust was hiding on the stairs.
Rust was hiding on the stairs.
Time passed strangely in the arena. Only a few days were passed, but Ashlar felt as though he had aged years inside this pitch black desert. Rust felt like a little brother to him, even though they never spoke a word to each other until two days ago, in a conversation deliberately meant to ensure both Rust and his district partner died.
Back then, he imagined that would be the moment which defined him, the moment he could never forgive himself for. Now he realized that he was mistaken. What he had done to Nettie Sue was cold and cruel, but the Hunger Games was a matter of survival, and she was a girl he barely knew. Ashlar might feel guilty for his actions, but if he emerged as the Victor, he would have considered that moment worth it.
But with Rust on the stairs and the door nearby there were two clear options. He could run and save himself. His fight with the girl from Seven went mostly without any real injury, meaning that if he escaped now he would be in prime condition to win the Games. Or he could go to Rust, risking his own life, and with no guarantee of saving the boy.
This was the decision that truly would define him.
Yet Ashlar realized it wasn't really a decision at all. His feet were already moving, running towards the rockslide, rather than away.
"Rust!" He cried out, "Rust where are you?"
Black rock and clouds of dust cascaded down towards him. He managed to dodge the first few chunks of earth, and grabbed onto a solid mass beneath his feet, climbing as fast as he could go. Despite his training and natural agility, several pieces of the broken stairs tumbled loose, hitting him hard. A huge plank slipped and struck his leg with a sharp crack, and pain seared through him. It felt like a broken bone, but he could still move, so he forced himself to do so.
"Rust!"
Ashlar heard a dull moan and rushed to find its source. Rust was where the foot of the stairs had been, mostly buried in the remains. Using his spear to dislodge the rubble, he pulled the younger boy out from underneath huge hunks of wood and stone. Rust had always been small, but he seemed even smaller now, hanging limply in Ashlar's arms.
"I've got you Rust. We're going to get you out of here." He told the boy from Nine.
Rust coughed and weakly shook his head. "I was dead the moment my name was called."
"Don't do that. You always put on a brave face when you're scared. But you don't have to do that with me."
The boy looked like he was going to protest, but instead just sobbed softly. As Ashlar held him, he realized that for the first time in an incredibly long time, he had no idea what to say.
Boom.
He felt it even before the cannon went off, as the life drained from Rust's body. Ashlar felt as though he were being drained along with the other boy. But that emptiness was replaced with rage.
Titania might have set the trap off, but she was dead now too, and only Serena May could have thought of something like that. He remembered the girl's interview, though that seemed so long ago, and how she had mentioned an interest in architecture. She had certainly been one of the masterminds behind the gates that they built together on the passageways leading into the Pit. The booby traps were clearly her thought gave him a clarity of purpose. Already, he had come close to killing Serena May during their fight, and that was without a motive. Now, making sure the architect behind Rust's death was dealt with was all that mattered. Survival was one thing. Revenge was quite another.
Despite the danger, she still hadn't left the Pit, holding her own fallen ally in her arms not ten feet from Ashlar. If he was quick, he could kill her before she even knew he was upon her. It was better than she deserved.
Ashlar pulled his spear from the pile of stone where Rust had been trapped, and took a few steps towards the girl from Seven. But his leg was evidently in worse shape than he imagined, and he stumbled slightly trying to close the gap between them, knocking into a few stray rocks while regaining his balance. Just enough noise was made to alert Serena May, who turned to face her foe.
He had expected sadness in her eyes, perhaps shock. But all he saw there was a rage that matched his own. She rose to her feet, clutching her axe tight in both hands.
But then, rather than fight like she seemed prepared to, she turned and ran for the one passage to the caves which was not collapsed by the rockslide.
Ashlar gave chase, ignoring the pain in his leg. The injury could be treated easily enough later. As she reached the passageway's gate he lunged, only for the girl to duck under his arms, forward instead of backward. Towards him instead of away or to the side like he might expect. Taking advantage of his surprise, Serena May moved behind him, and pushed him into the barbed wire of the gate. Such scratches stung, but the pain was hardly anything, compared to what he had already sustained.
"That's really all you've got isn't it?" Ashlar wasn't typically one for gloating, but anger roiled in his veins like magma, hot enough to bubble out in a frothing madness of taunts, "You might be slippery, but that's all you are, all you can do. You run and you pull dirty tricks. Well now they aren't going to save you. Nothing, nobody, can save you now."
Serena May simply stared, one brow raised in defiance, her confidence only adding to Ashlar's rage. Even though her only exit was blocked, she stood against him, and pointed at the gate behind him.
Risking a glance out of dangerous curiosity, he failed to see anything important about the gate, staring at it and trying to focus long enough to make sense of the situation. Back then, before Cordelia was exiled, the Career alliance had constructed the gates together.
Through strangely blurred vision, Ashlar noted the occasional barb Diamond covered in green paint, the ones he'd just rushed into trying to kill Serena May. But Diamond hadn't only painted the barbs green, had he? There had been real poison too.
And as the realization hit, Ashlar's blood began to burn.
AN: When I come up with stories, certain set pieces tend to pop up. Moments that I just really really want to get to. This chapter is one of those moments. I've been waiting to write it for quite a while, and it was something wasn't it? Just… I hope you like this chapter as much as I do because I like it a lot. On to the obituaries, which are probably going to kill me.
9th, Titania Topaz by GaleWrites- I don't think there was anyone in this story who was as widely liked as Titania. Dangerous, competent, and incredibly multifaceted, she was a sheer joy to write and was a serious narrative mvp when it came to getting the careers to do what I needed them to. I'm a little devastated to have killed her. But ultimately, I think it's how she would have wanted to go: being a total badass. You will be missed, and you've probably also ruined Valentine's day. Which I think it a plus.
8th, Rust Waxy by SantiagoPoncini20- Rust's background was so mind bogglingly unique. Like I don't get a lot of children of serial killers for some reason, but his reactions to his circumstances and the way he tried so hard to not let his birth define him made him something truly special. I loved him with pretty every tribute I put him up against, and his subplot with Nettie Sue was pure gold to me. We're getting to the hard stuff, can you tell? I feel like everyone from this point on was actually considered for Victor. Rest In Peace, Rust. All of Panem knows they misjudged you now.
7th, Ashlar Granodum by The Consulting Marauder- I literally invented a Career district so that I could have this boy in my story, that's how much I loved him. His just nice solid undramatic patriotism was a breath of fresh aire among all of the angstier backstories, and his pro team behaviour made him so easy to put into pretty much any subplot. I loved him, and his downright deadly people skills. District Three has certainly proved itself.
Kill count.
Diamond Stark- Two kills, Tanner and Tesla
Dash Grester- Two kills, Raleigh and Lucien
Titania Topaz- Two kills, Issa and Rust
Elixane Marcus- Two kills, Demetri and Titania
Demetri Donovan- One kill, Zella
Carlotta Pierce- One and a half kills, Arachne
Seaward Waters- One kill, Mattock
Cordelia Korver- One kill, Seaward
Violet Beckingridge- One kill, Ruben
Ashlar Granodum- One kill, Nettie Sue
Astra Porter- One Kill, Dash
Rust Waxy- One Kill, Cordelia
Anthracite Amber Weitz- One Kill, Diamond
Serena May Lenovius- One Kill, Ashlar
Thank you so much for everyone reading, and check out the sequel to this story, A Dangerous Pastime!