Warning: Some bad language. A lot of violence.

Eidolon Wrack, 19, District 2 Tribute POV

The moment the countdown ends, Honey leaps into the water and swims towards the weapons. I swim around the outskirts of the Cornucopia, closing the gap between us.

The first tribute between us is the boy from Seven. Or Eleven. I've always thought of him as Seven because it was his home. He's pretty solidly built and a strong swimmer. Not worth the risk.

The twelve-year-old, the next tribute between us, is still on her platform, looking at the water. She's shaking, like the water might rear up and swallow her. Her eyes are wide and full of fear.

Easy pickings.

I pull myself onto her platform and grab her. She screams, high and shrill, but not for long. I snap her neck with one quick and painless twist. It's almost too easy. She was so skinny, barely there.

Killing her like that was an act of mercy.

By the time the girl's corpse flops into the water, Honey is swimming back towards me. I see a glint of a knife tucked into her belt.

We vanish from the bloodbath silently, leaving the other tributes to fight it out.

Drachma Montez, 18, District 10 Female POV

I spotted the gauntlets the moment I rose into the arena. I knew that I needed them. They glinted in the sunlight, knuckles bearing wickedly sharp spikes. I don't usually like shiny things but I love weapons.

Now I'm coming for them.

I'm not the fastest swimmer in Panem but I took lessons in the academy. I propel myself to the shore with ease. Then I make a run for the gauntlets.

They're within reach when I sense a movement to my left. I glance up to see a tiny boy with a massive sword running at me. Adorable. I kick him right in the stomach, winding him, and slip my hands into the gauntlets.

When he's recovered enough to make another clumsy lunge at me, I'm ready. I dodge his blade and lash out with a punch to his arm. It has the desired effect. The boy cries out and drops his sword as I pull my gauntlet free.

The spikes are now slick with blood.

I hurl myself at the boy and drive my spikes into him, again and again.

Jiro Ethridge, 16, District 2 Tribute POV

I can't swim. Luckily for me, my stylist happened to whisper in my ear that my belt is a floatation device. I kick my way through the water, all too aware of Katniss Everdeen being slightly ahead of me.

I launched right next to her.

By the time I reach the shore and grab a knife, she's got a bow and a quiver of arrows. She seems hesitant to use them, though. She's got her back to me and she's screaming for Peeta Mellark.

I take the leap. Dart forwards. Slice across her throat, quick and deep, just like she's a lamb I'm supposed to slaughter. Retreat,

I give a cursory glance at my surroundings, looking for my allies. I can't see them straight away but that isn't a problem. I don't need my allies anymore. I launched exactly where I wanted to launch and now I've done exactly what I wanted to do.

Now I just need to get away from the bloodbath and let the gamemakers take care of the rest.

I race to the edge of the jungle and give one quick glance over my shoulder. I instantly regret it.

Silver Oberst is standing over Katniss Everdeen's body, staring me down with fury in is eyes. For a second, fear freezes me in place.

But then Silver turns his head, like he's heard someone call his name, and runs away. Shaking with relief, I dash into the greenery.

I think I just got away with killing the Mockingjay.

Moss Hawkins, 16, District 11 Tribute POV

Silver and I made a secret deal on our platforms. I'd go for Peeta and he'd go for Katniss. The only tribute between me and Peeta is Eidolon, who I have to swerve to avoid. He decides not to attack me, which fills me with relief.

It turns to fear when I pull myself ashore to see Asteraceae slither onto Peeta's platform. I swim towards them as they begin to fight.

Why is Asteraceae taking on Peeta without a weapon? He's so much bigger than her.

Just as I'm nearing the platform, I hear a body splash into the water - Peeta! I haul him back onto the platform as Asteraceae starts to escape. His face is covered with blood. I don't know how Asteraceae managed it. She's not big enough or skilled enough to cause that kind of damage without a weapon.

Peeta isn't moving. He isn't responding. I check his pulse.

He's dead. Peeta Mellark is dead.

I've failed.

Filled with guilt and shame, I swim away from Peeta and towards the jungle. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do.

Charon Regatti, 18, District 6 Tribute POV

I choose my first kill with care. The girl next to me is bright, bold and pulsing with life. But her flame is too strong. She's unnatural, an abomination.

When I reach the shore, I grab the nearest scythe and charge. The girl has a spear in her hand but she's turned away from me. I almost manage to stab her before she whirls around with her spear and knocks my blade away. My scythe glances down her arm, drawing blood.

The girl's dark eyes harden. She lets out a hiss of pain and rams her spear at me. I try to block her attack but she swerves around it and plunges her spear into my stomach. I try to block out the sharp, cold blade buried in me as the girl leaps, hands braced against her spear, and launches a spinning kick at my face.

I find myself toppling backwards, landing in the sand. I try to struggle to my feet but the girl rips her spear out of me, sending another wave of pain through my body.

"Charon," I see death kneeling beside me, still in chains.

"I'm sorry," I croak. "I failed."

"It's not your fault," Death says, quietly. "What was done to me will never be undone. Even if you did manage to return all the dead in this arena to their graves, they would've made too much of a mark on this world. But they will all meet me eventually. For now, I am happy with you, Charon. Come, join me."

She takes my hand and pulls my soul free.

Lacquera Wake, 14, District 6 Tribute POV

When I reach the shore, Splendour is standing in my way, brandishing a mace. I know he sees me as an easy target.

I know I can't reach Libby until he's dead.

So I pick up the nearest axe.

Splendour swings his mace. I block it. The force of it sends shudders down the axe handle and into my arms. His eyes widen with shock.

Then he swings again. The blow barely catches me in the stomach. I'm winded. I only just manage to block Splendour's next hit before it crushes my skull.

Fighting Splendour is a strange experience. When I'd been reaped, I'd imagined myself duelling handsome Careers, keeping up a steady stream of flirty banter and elegant moves. But Splendour, despite being cute, fights silently and brutally. My muscles begin to shake like jelly, meaning that my movements are sudden, jerky and desperate.

Splendour forces me back, towards a pile of axes. Suddenly, I have an idea. I drop to the ground and plunge my axe into Splendour's knee. He cries out, stumbling. Instead of pulling my axe out, I grab another one and slice through his stomach. I watch his guts start to spill out as I reach for a third axe.

Desperate, Splendour batters at me with his mace. The blows that connects crush my bones to splinters but none of them hit me anywhere vital. As his strength fades, I strike again, with what little strength I have.

I'm lucky. It hits him right in the heart.

I won. I'm a few shards of bone held together by torn skin and muscle. But I won.

I start to crawl towards Libby's podium, hoping that I can still save her.

Fawkes Chau, 19, District 3 Tribute POV

I swim. Or, at least, I think I'm swimming. Maybe I'm just thrashing around uselessly in the water. There's something pulling me up, keeping me afloat, and I'm grateful for it. The saltwater stings my arm but I ignore the pain.

I've been worse.

Then something curls around my ankle. Suddenly, I'm back in the haunted house, being dragged to my death. The monster has found me again. I scream but water fills my mouth.

I can't break free. I can't escape.

I'm pulled onto the beach. Eros' laughter rings in my ears as he lets go of my ankle and shoves me to the sand. I try to scramble away but he starts kicking me, knocking the air from my lungs. It hurts but I struggle to my feet.

I've been worse. Eros is nothing compared to that mutt. I can still get away.

"Trying to run away, coward?" Eros grabs my wrist and twists my arm behind my back. His fingers dig into my cuts. I almost cry out in pain but I stifle it.

I know that Binah's watching.

Eros pushes me towards the water's edge. I try to dig my feet into the sand to try and stall for time, give my allies time to reach me, but Eros aims a kick at my leg. I hear bone crack. I black out from the pain and, suddenly, I'm on my knees. Eros' hand is squeezing the back of my neck.

"Any last words, Three?"

I look at the fighting, hoping that my allies are coming for me. My vision's a little blurry - I must've lost my glasses when I was trying to swim - but I can see Sankie somewhere nearby. She can't help me, though. Ageis is caught up with fighting Charon.

Régine is nowhere to be seen.

Nobody's going to save me.

I'm going to die.

I fight the urge to cry. I'm going to die but I don't want to anymore. I put so much effort into making it through the parade and training and the interviews, so much effort into keeping myself alive, and now I'm going to die because I was randomly put next to someone who has a grudge against me.

But I can't cry. I don't want to die crying and begging for mercy. I know that it'll break Binah's heart.

What would Binah say?

I smile to myself. I know.

"Fuck you, Eros," I mutter.

Naturally, Eros can't think of a smart comeback so he resorts to violence. I try to hold onto that small victory as Eros shoves me forwards, into the water. He's going to kill me but that won't change him at all. He'll still be an idiot.

Part of me is hoping he lives. Part of me is hoping he spends the rest of his life beating himself up because he couldn't think of a comeback.

I try to lift my head out of the water but Eros' hand is still on the back of my neck, forcing me beneath the surface.

He's going to drown me.

At least it'll be better than last time.

It's a depressing thought. Maybe that's the reason my eyes are full of tears. Or maybe it's the stinging saltwater and lack of oxygen.

I reach a point where I can't hold my breath anymore. The water starts to rush into my lungs. It hurts. I don't think I'll ever reach a point in my life where it stops hurting. I focus on what I can see - light slicing through blue water. It's beautiful.

My last sight is beautiful. I'm grateful for that.

But a small voice in my head says. Not as beautiful as last time...

It comes to me suddenly, even though it's been building up inside me for days. I'm in love with Binah Katayanagi. She's brave and kind and honest. The only person I can trust to protect me from the monster. The only person who makes me feel like myself.

I'm in love with Binah Katayanagi.

And I'll die before I can tell her.

I try to summon the last bit of my strength. I need to break free. I need to live. In all the films I watched growing up, love always made people stronger, capable of great things. Maybe love will make me strong enough to survive this.

But I can hardly move. Even trying my hardest, the water's weighing me down. I'm drifting away, losing consciousness, and there's nothing I can do.

Even as the dark closes in on me, just like it did last time, I fight it.

But I don't fight hard enough.

Diana di Angelo, 18, District 4 Tribute POV

The moment I saw who I'd launched near, I knew what I had to do.

I'm not a particularly strong swimmer. I took lessons at the academy just in case the arena was watery but I never really got the hang of it. I don't reach the shore as soon as I want to.

But I do reach the shore. I do grab a sword.

Then I run, as fast as I can, along the sand.

Eros is trying to drown Fawkes. I have to stop him. I don't care if it blows my cover in the alliance. I don't care if it kills me. Somebody has to save Fawkes. And, with Régine on the other side of the Cornucopia and Ageis caught up with fighting Charon, that somebody might as well be me.

I charge towards Eros, leaving footprints in the sand. I just hope I'm fast enough. I gave up on being one of the faster tributes in the arena years ago, when I started training to build up muscle.

But when I swing my sword at Eros' neck, I know that all my brute strength will pay off. I put all the power I can into the blow.

And it slices Eros' head from his shoulders.

I drop to my knees beside Fawkes and pull him from the water. He's not moving. I'm about to check his pulse but I'm distracted by a piercing screech as Rusalka lunges at me with an axe...

Rusalka Darien, 18, District 7 Tribute POV

One moment, my Eros was alive and grinning and gorgeous. The next, his head was lying in the sand, sliced from his body.

I shriek with fury and charge at the girl responsible for it. Diana, that filthy traitor. She was so nice to me in training. Hadn't she seen that Eros was my kill. Hadn't she seen that his skin was mine to pierce, his blood dead mine to spill, his heart was mine to rip open?

Maybe she had. Maybe she was just jealous.

I swing my axe at Diana. She raises her sword to block it and, soon, we're locked in combat, blade on blade. My blood races with the heat of battle. Diana's strong and skilled. She puts up a good fight. A couple of times, her blade grazes my skin.

But I hardly notice. I'm furious.

Diana begins to stumble, falter, make mistakes. But I don't. It occurs to me that she's not used to fighting on sandy terrain. Her footwork is clumsy. But I've practiced fighting on beaches a lot. I'm able to anticipate the slide of the thin, white grains under my feet.

I am furious. I am relentless. Soon, Diana begins to tire. She leaves herself open to more attacks. My axe becomes slick with her blood. She doesn't fall, though.

No matter how much I strike her, she doesn't fall.

Eventually, my instincts tell me that she's going to die. Even though she's still on her feet, still trying to block my attacks, her movements are sluggish. Her jumpsuit is stained with her own blood. Her face is shiny with sweat and drained of blood, even paler against the dark, wet hair plastered to her forehead.

"Yield," I cry.

"Never," Diana hisses. There's a gaping wound in her side but she's making no effort to stop the bleeding. Both hands are still on her sword.

"You're going to die," I spit. "You'll never be a victor."

"It was never about victory," Diana mutters. "I'm doing this for Dio!"

I don't understand how killing Eros avenged Diocletian's death. I don't have time to wonder why. Diana makes one last effort to stab me. I swing my axe and knock the sword out of her hand. Another blow to her legs makes her crumple to the ground.

"Then die like he did," I mutter. I bury my axe in her back. The poetry of it all makes me smile.

I stand, victorious, over the body of my first kill in a new era.

That bloodbath was very intense to write, especially compared to the bloodbath in The Bride and The Widow. I think it's because most of the tributes in this arena are capable fighters so you get epic battles like Lacquera vs Spendour and Diana vs Rusalka rather than the Careers just destroying everyone who doesn't run away.

I also want to apologise for killing off Katniss and Peeta in the bloodbath. I know you probably love them both because they're the main characters so sorry for killing your faves. I've been planning this from the start, since I wanted to explore what would happen to the rebellion if the two most important tributes ended up dying. Will they be able to recover? Will all the powerful people working behind the scenes be able to salvage it or did everything really depend on Katniss and Peeta? Only time will tell…