tw: this is the chapter i'd say most begins to set the tone for the rest of the games. things start to get a bit more intense - this is the hunger games, after all. if you at any point feel as if you can't finish a pov, i'm more than willing to summarize it for you privately. brief mention of suicide in pov 4
Time Unknown, Location Unknown.
After nearly an hour of unsuccessfully pounding on the wall, hoping he'd be let out of whatever room he'd found himself trapped in, Jude had given up and decided that sleeping was the best thing he could do for himself in this situation. That being said, he wasn't sure how much of the night he spent sleeping and how much he spent curled up against the wall, staring into the darkness and wondering if he was being watched.
Faint whispers roused him from his fitful sleep, his heart pounding before he could even remember where he was. Everything he'd tried to fight off came rushing back at once - Teagan's death, his fight with Imperia, Imperia's betrayal - and he was suddenly overwhelmed once more.
Trying to fight the sensation of his head spinning, Jude staggered to his feet, eyes trained on a dim light in the distance. It looked like the light of another room, a faint beacon of hope. Or, perhaps, a signal that this was where Jude Caterham was going to die. He wasn't quite sure what the outcome of his predicament would be.
But Jude Caterham wasn't a coward. He would face whatever was ahead of him without fear.
He pretended like he couldn't feel his hands shaking.
Part of him wanted to call out in the hopes that someone would hear him, but he just tightened his grip on the knife in his hand. He didn't want to risk alerting other tributes to his predicament, especially not that fucking traitor Imperia.
And that's when it hit him. Jude was completely and utterly alone.
He swallowed and began moving towards the light, ramming his shoulder into a door frame he couldn't see and hissing in pain. He rubbed his shoulder, adopting a new strategy of feeling along the wall as he went. He tried not to think about how pathetic he probably looked, fumbling around in the dark hoping that he could find even a light switch. He wasn't scared. He wasn't scared. He wasn't scared.
No matter how many times he tried to tell himself it was the truth, he still wasn't convinced.
By some stroke of luck, he managed to reach the source of light, squinting into the room as his eyes attempted to adjust to anything besides an all-encompassing blackness. He rubbed at his eyes, blinking at the room in front of him. Something in the pit of his stomach twisted, but Jude couldn't quite figure out why. He barely understood what was happening in front of him.
It appeared to be a large hospital room, complete with IV stands and gurneys along both walls. Clear fluid ran through the IV lines, dripping from bags hanging from the stands. But the lines didn't appear to be connected to anything; their ends were clamped off, hanging limply to the floor. There were several carts scattered across the room, each one covered by a blue tarp to keep the contents sterile.
"What the hell…?" Jude whispered, lifting up the corner of one of the tarps before dropping it just as quickly when he recognized the equipment underneath it.
A flash of blue scrubs entered his vision and then left just as quickly, causing Jude to spin around in a circle trying to track the figure. The sudden presence of light left him squinting as he looked around, jamming his hip into a counter - no, a gurney, one with a tarp covering it. Jude tried to pretend like he didn't see the lump under the tarp. He didn't want to consider what was under it.
"Who's there?" he called out, brandishing his knife. "Where the fuck am I?"
"What does it look like?"
Any response Jude might've had got stuck in his throat as he spun to face whoever was in the room with him. The knife in his hand lowered slightly out of confusion, Jude resisting the urge to pinch himself.
This isn't real.
Jude stared into his own eyes, watched himself pull down a medical mask to flash Jude a bright smile. "You look surprised. Never seen yourself before?"
"I…" His throat dried up as he looked around again, trying not to blatantly watch his mirror self as he began to thoroughly wash his hands in the sink.
"I never took you as the kind of person to be speechless," his clone said, tilting his head to the side as he dried his hands. "You're me, after all."
"What the fuck is happening?" Jude blurted out, taking a few steps away from his other self. "You… can't be real."
The other boy hummed, snapping a pair of blue latex gloves on. "Would you like to test that theory?"
No, Jude didn't. He didn't want to be here anymore, but he also wasn't sure if he could get his legs to work long enough for him to leave. Instead, he just tried for an awkward shuffle, moving until he ran into another gurney. His hand touched something cold and clammy and Jude snatched it away, instinctively looking down to see what he'd touched when-
Jude blanched as he recognized Teagan's face, her skin deathly pale, likely in part due to the gaping wound in her throat. He didn't know what she looked like when she passed, but her face was almost peaceful now. It made her look more like a normal girl, not the one that he'd known, twisted by bitterness.
"Oh, so you found her." The other Jude's voice was incredibly nonchalant, making him swallow harshly. "I had to grab her after you left her behind. Poor thing was so scared, too. Taken out by two Careers… she didn't stand a chance."
"Which ones?" he couldn't help but ask.
"The boys from One and Two. I didn't stick around, but they got into a fight after. It's funny, really."
Jude wasn't sure if he could breathe, staring at the person that looked so much like him it made his head spin. Surely it had to be a mutt of some kind. "What is?"
Then, before Jude could even blink, the other boy was in front of him, gloved hands inspecting Jude's face. He wanted to pull back, to break away from his touch, but Jude was stuck in place. He tried to force down the nausea - he hated being touched, hated the simple intimacy of physical contact - and focused on staring anywhere but his own face.
"You're growing weak," his other self said, finally releasing his face with a slight shove that sent Jude stumbling a step back. "Did you really blindly follow Imperia again after everything that was said? No wonder your fathers have always been disappointed in you. What did you ever have to offer them in the first place?"
Jude jerked away before realizing with a gasp that his knife was gone. He whipped his head around before meeting his own smiling gaze, his mirror self tauntingly holding up the knife.
"What do you need with a knife?" he mused, turning it over in his hands. "As I recall, we were always more handy with an ice pick."
He watched as the other Jude deposited the knife in a large red trash bin, a look of disgust on his face. Jude cleared his throat, hoping to gain some of his agency once more. "I was helping," he insisted, his old excuse the only thing coming to mind.
His other self leered at him before turning around and grabbing a cart, wheeling it closer to where Jude stood. "Fixing them… that's right. That's what you told yourself every time you lobotomized one of those middle school boys. You were only helping, you were only making them better. A steady hand and the proper tools were all it took to prevent them from becoming the monster you had already become. They asked for it, they wanted your help so desperately that they were willing to do anything you suggested. And you thrived off of the way they idolized you, so it didn't even occur to you that it might go wrong."
Jude's breaths were coming faster now. He knew what was next. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to pretend like he couldn't see Jett's face behind his eyelids.
"And Jett was the worst of them all, wasn't he?" The gentle croon was closer now, and Jude tensed as he felt a hand graze over his head. "He was the only one you tried to say no to, the only one that you felt a genuine connection with. And then…"
A flash of pain burned up Jude's arm, and his eyes snapped open, an involuntary hiss escaping his mouth. He tried to look down and see what had happened, but his clone was so close that his own dark eyes were all he could discern, filled with a sick delight that made his stomach roil in protest. Was that what he looked like? Was this really him?
"You're fucking crazy," he breathed, wrenching his arm away and moving a few steps back to increase the distance between himself and… himself. God, he was finally fucking losing it, wasn't he?
The other Jude looked put off by that, frowning as if Jude was being particularly difficult right now. "Now that's not very nice. I'm you, after all."
Jude shook his head insistently. "No. You- you can't be. This isn't real. I'm just dreaming."
"You don't seem to truly believe that," the other boy said, cocking his head to the side. "After all, who else knows this about you? Every mistake, ever fuckup, all of it. I know them intimately because we are the same."
His head was beginning to spin, the world around Jude becoming an unfocused blur. "I don't-"
"Shh," his clone urged, and Jude felt hands on his shoulders, leading him over somewhere else. His knees ran into something, forcing them to buckle, and suddenly Jude was sitting down. "You've done so much for those boys, more than they'll ever know. You helped them, remember? It's just a shame your fathers couldn't help you."
"My fathers?" Jude asked, his hands scrambling for something to hold on to, gripping the armrests on his chair tightly. "What does this have to do with them?"
"It has everything to do with them." His own voice was suddenly grating in Jude's ear, a cruel laughter that made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. "They went through all that trouble to adopt you, and for what? To run a few experiments on you and otherwise cast you aside? You crave touch and yet hate it so much that you want to crawl out of your own skin. Don't you want the chance to feel normal too?"
"I-" Jude stammered, his palms sweating. He tried to stand up, but a pressure on his chest shoved him back down. "Experiments?"
"Oh, did you not know?" He can almost hear the smile in his clone's words. "I suppose that would make sense. But then again, how else would the heads of a pharmaceutical company test their products?"
Jude wasn't even sure if he was breathing anymore, his heart stuttering in his chest. "I…"
He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. His other self was standing in front of him, a fresh pair of blue gloves on his hands as he investigated the tools spread out on the cart. Jude watched blearily, finally registering that something was distinctly wrong. His gaze soon landed on his arm and the IV that stuck out of it. Oh.
"You just wanted to be enough for someone, didn't you?" It wasn't anything that his other self was expecting an answer to, so Jude kept his mouth tightly shut. "It's even okay if you killed Jett on purpose. A slip of the hand is easy enough to be explained away in something as difficult as a lobotomy. He had the life you always wanted. He was your brother, but he was chosen while you were cast aside."
"I didn't mean to," Jude insisted, his voice hoarse as the words were forced out. "I didn't. It was an accident, I swear."
At this point, he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince anymore. All he knew was that he didn't know how to confront what was being thrown at him now. He struggled to inhale, an invisible pressure on his chest only getting tighter, constricting him the more he tried to fight it.
"You always insisted everyone else was the monster. But you know that was wrong, don't you? After all, they were loved. You wanted to gain back a sense of control after the shithole that was middle school, and this was the only way you knew how. It wasn't fair, was it?"
Jude licked his lips, trying to summon an answer from deep within. "No," he whispered, the bitterness that had settled deep within him beginning to rear its ugly head again. "It wasn't fair at all."
"They were all horrible to you," the other boy cooed. "You didn't turn any of them in, no matter how hard they shoved or how ugly their words became. What was the point if you knew it would never really stop?"
Something akin to tears were pricking at his eyes, but Jude tried to force them back. He didn't cry, he never let himself. He hated being weak, especially around others.
"You're afraid even now, with Imperia gone. She abandoned you as well, didn't she? Do you think she'll remember you after all of this is done?"
Jude registered that his hands were trembling now and clenched them into tight fists. It was like staring into a mirror and seeing the depths of his soul reflected back at him. The truth was ugly and he hated to hear it, but he couldn't turn away either. Jude sat frozen in his seat, swallowing thickly.
"She's probably already forgotten you." The voice was gentler now, as if preparing Jude for something he didn't fully understand yet. "They all will in the end, won't they?"
"I- yeah," Jude muttered, his nails digging into the palm of his hand. "What's the point of it all?"
"Oh," his clone crooned, running his hand along Jude's jaw, smiling gently as Jude leaned into his touch, "don't worry. After this, no one will forget you."
And god, how Jude longed to be remembered. He stared up into his own eyes, accepted the barest hint of comfort they offered, and nodded without knowing what he was accepting. To be remembered, to be loved. That's all Jude ever wanted.
"Now," his clone said, stepping back and pulling his gloves on once more. "Are you ready?"
"Ready for what?" Jude asked, his head clouding once more. His arm tingled where the IV was, but he couldn't summon the energy to rip it out. Maybe he really didn't care at all anymore.
"To be fixed," the other boy said simply.
Jude took a moment to process the implications of those words, watching as his clone's hands carefully opened a new package of gloves – white, for sterility. He snapped them on, flexing his hands a few times to make sure they fit properly before he grabbed a tool that was familiar to Jude. Too familiar.
"Wait-" Jude tried to protest, attempting to move away before realizing that he couldn't move. "You can't-"
"Sh," the boy urged again, and now he looked completely unfamiliar to Jude. Surely Jude had never looked like that: eyes crazed, hair a mess, smile dark and glinting. But no matter how much he tried to convince himself of that, the truth remained that whoever – whatever – he was talking to was himself.
"Stay still. I'm told this won't hurt much."
There was a pressure at the corner of his eye before something gave and all Jude could do was scream, his nails tearing open the skin of his palm. The ice pick forced its way through the narrow cavity, his nerves alight like nothing he'd ever felt before. If Jude had enough control over his body, he'd sob and thrash where he sat, but all he could do was sit still and bear the sheer agony. Every time he thought it was about to ebb, the pain returned tenfold and Jude let out another screech of anguish. He was acutely aware of every slight movement the ice pick made. Wrong, wrong, it was all wrong, but he couldn't do anything to fix it. He let out a stuttering gasp as he felt something inside his head twinge, and then-
And then Jude couldn't feel anything at all.
10:49 am, Bottom Floor of The East Wing.
Makani wasn't trying to pretend like she wasn't on edge with Phaedra around. She respected the other girl greatly, but after the incidents since getting to the Arena…
Well, Alila was about the only person she trusted anymore. It sounded odd, even to Makani, as Alila had never fully explained her actions during the bloodbath, but it was true. Maybe she was just being foolish and trying to see the best in her friend, but Alila had shown more humanity than she'd seen in any of her other allies in that moment.
Tears pricked her eyes, and Makani was forced to blink them away before her companion noticed. She just wanted to go home, but it was far too late for that.
She made an effort to sneak off on her own whenever she could, ducking into rooms on the first floor under the guise of inspecting them. Phaedra had insisted they go downstairs as far as they could this time, curious to see if any of the tributes had fled as far from the Cornucopia as they could. Makani was just happy to be in a lovelier space.
The finer architecture made the first floor - or, what she assumed was the first floor, as they hadn't found any more staircases - seem like a completely different world. Again and again Makani found herself entranced by massive paintings hanging from the wall, her hands tracing the edge of the frames as she wandered by. Her trident hung limply at her side as she trailed along. She just hoped she wouldn't have to use it.
Her shoes quietly squeaked on the marble floor as she walked. Makani had lost track of Phaedra a few minutes ago, but she didn't have the desire to search her out. She felt adrift without Alila, who was constantly stuck back at the Cornucopia. It hurt to see her friend so distressed, so helpless, but all Makani could do was try her best to support her.
It had taken a lot for her to convince Justus and Phaedra that Alila still deserved a chance. Makani didn't think they believed what she was saying, but Makani had vowed to take responsibility for Alila as best she could. Not that Alila knew about that part. She'd probably be mortified and then frustrated that Makani had tried to take the fall for her again.
She had half a mind to own up to the whole Crush thing and even the playing field, but Makani didn't know how to explain that one. Maybe that's why Alila never gave them a definitive answer on the Nine boy. Some things went beyond what the Games encompassed.
Things were more complicated than Makani had expected. She didn't think the simmering tension just under the surface of the pack would be so present this early. At this rate, she didn't think they'd last long at all. She was pretty sure that the first death would splinter them apart, but Makani didn't know how the pieces would fall just yet.
"You look like you're thinking hard about something."
Phaedra's voice made Makani nearly jump out of her skin, holding back a yelp as she looked up at the other girl with wide eyes. Phaedra looked immediately apologetic, holding out a hand as if she wanted to give Makani some sort of comfort before holding herself back.
"I'm sorry for startling you," Phaedra said, awkwardly hovering nearby. Sometimes it was hard to imagine that this was the girl predicted to win, but Makani knew she was a tremendously strong fighter. "But… maybe it would be best to keep your guard up."
Makani opened her mouth to respond before her hand instinctively tightened on her trident. She whipped her head to the side, expecting to find someone looking at her, to find some explanation for the prickling sensation that had crawled its way up her spine, but there was nothing. That said, Makani couldn't shake it.
Someone was watching her.
"Makani?"
"I'm fine," she responded immediately, tucking one arm around herself. "I just… it's nothing. I'm worried about Alila."
It was the first excuse she could think of, but Makani didn't miss the way Phaedra's eyes faltered on her. "She's fine with Justus."
Her eyes widened and Makani shook her head quickly. "Sorry, it's not- it's not that I don't trust him to take care of her, it's just…" she trailed off, unsure what to say to Phaedra, who was half the cause for Alila's current predicament.
Makani probably shouldn't be complaining so much. After all, this was better than Alila being dead, even if Alila didn't quite see it that way.
It still killed her to see Alila so defeated. Actions were the defining nature of the Games, and even an early death would've been more merciful than the slow starvation of her spirit. Whether Justus and Phaedra were fully aware of it or not, their actions were crueler than just letting Kano kill her.
Or at least, that's what Makani had come to understand. She could see it in Alila's eyes at the end of the day. There was a certain defeat in them that Makani longed to get rid of, but she was equally as powerless in this situation. She wished Alila would've let her help somehow. Makani didn't know what she could've done differently, but…
"I understand," Phaedra said quietly. "If you want, we can check the library and the dining hall before going back up a floor."
"That would be good," Makani agreed, trying to plaster a smile on her face again. "I'll take the library?"
"Works for me."
In truth, Makani just wanted the ability to disappear amongst the shelves, away from prying eyes. Though she could only see Phaedra around, she couldn't shake the sensation of some other gaze following her wherever she went.
A frown instantly stole the smile from her face as she stepped into the library, stepping over a few books as she made her way further inside. It wasn't pristine and untouched like the rest of the floor, so Makani tightened her grip on her trident just in case someone was with her. Stubbornly, she kept her mouth shut, refusing to let herself give into fear and ask Phaedra for help. She couldn't let down Alila.
The books on the floor left a sort of trail to the back of the library, one that Makani carefully followed, staying light on her feet. Some alcoves were still untouched, but the books didn't carry any dust at all. Makani couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
It wasn't until she got to the back of the library that she decided it was definitely a bad thing.
The rest of the library had clearly been distubed, but Makani could've brushed it off. This section, on the other hand, looked as though it had been ransacked. Books were spread across the floor, the shelves disheveled as if someone had been rifling through them. The spot that attracted her attention the most was a pair of pedestals in the middle of the section. One of them had a bust placed on top, the other a book. A quick glance towards the floor revealed that there had been a second bust, only now, it was strewn across the floor in hundreds of tiny pieces.
Makani crouched and scooped up one of the fragments in her hand, turning it over curiously. She didn't notice anything particularly odd about the bust beyond the fact that it was broken on the floor, not that there was much left to notice. She pocketed one of the smaller pieces, just in case she wanted to show it to Alila later.
The book on the pedestal was her next bit to investigate, a weathered bookmark sticking out of the book as if someone had been reading it recently. Makani cracked the book open, turning the cloth bookmark over in her hands. It had faded from what was likely a rich blue to a light grey, marking the spot where someone had been reading the collection of stories.
"Pygmalion and Galatea?" Makani muttered to herself, flipping through the rest of the collection of stories. She didn't recognize any of them, but… perhaps it would help somehow?
Makani heard a muffled noise from one of the shelves, clutching the book closer to her chest as she scanned the room. She couldn't tell exactly where it had come from, causing her heart to pound in her chest unbidden. Before Makani could stop it from beating, from betraying her location to all who surrounded her, the sound was already gone, as if Makani had imagined the whole thing.
"Hello?" she tried anyway, calling softly enough that Phaedra wouldn't hear outside. "Is anyone there?"
Silence was the only thing that answered her, but Makani no longer welcomed it. She was beginning to panic, even if part of her felt it was completely unreasonable of her to do so. What was she so scared of, anyway?
Makani turned to leave the area before stopping still, her eyes trained on something she hadn't noticed before. Right at eye level, sitting on a shelf, something had been carved out of a hunk of rock. Makani didn't even know where the rock could've come from - this was an indoor Arena, after all. Something about it called to her, and she took a step forward, tilting her head to the side to examine it further.
Though it was crude and not quite finished, it was clearly Makani's own face that stared back at her.
11:32 am, Second Floor of The West Wing.
Home was a place that Jack had been thinking about a lot lately.
Perhaps home was not the right word. Jack had only felt as if she was at home in Eight until her father got married. From then on, Jack had just… existed in the house that her father owned. Nowhere truly felt like home anymore.
These kinds of revelations had filled Jack with a sense of uneasiness that she was not used to. She didn't know what to do with it. She was too far from Eight to make a difference and too close to dying to convince herself that it would be okay to imagine what would happen if she did get back, though she seemed to be the only one acting so cautiously. Even Eleanor had lofty aspirations that she wanted to get back to, an admirable desire to help the girls she worked with. Jack didn't have the heart to tell her that she wasn't sure if any of them would be making it home. And even if they did, what was a freshly traumatized kid supposed to do when it came to the system before them, no matter how toxic?
Perhaps it also rubbed Jack the wrong way that if the factory disappeared, those girls wouldn't be able to work. It felt wrong to take it all away from them, to shut down their livelihood, even if the factory was leeching away at their health. It didn't seem like there was a right answer, a right way to keep those girls safe.
Jack wasn't used to not knowing what to do.
But again, she was thinking too far ahead. With the cannon earlier that morning, there were fourteen tributes left, and only one of them got to live in the end.
"Hey, Jack?" Eleanor cut into her thoughts, waving a hand in front of her face. She brightened when Jack blinked in response and nodded. "We're doing a bit more moving around today. Thay thinks it's important we stay on the move just in case someone stumbles across us."
"That's fine," Jack muttered, already moving to shove things back in her backpack. "I'll have things ready in a few."
That was the thing about her little situation. Jack was decently pleased with having Eleanor as an ally - even if she wasn't great at showing it - but she couldn't say the same for Thay. His behavior since the bloodbath had been… stranger than normal, to say the least. Jack was never sure what to do with him on a good day, putting her even more on edge due to his unusual behavior. At the very least, his insistence on helping her learn to fight gave her a good enough reason to hang around long enough to listen to his advice.
But in the end, was that really enough? Jack didn't come here to make friends - she never needed them anyway - so she didn't see the point of sticking around unless there was a need for it. She was already beginning to look ahead, and she wasn't sure that her future held the rest of her alliance.
Her eyes flickered over to Eleanor. Well, she wasn't sure that her future held one of her alliance members. Jack had grown… fond of Eleanor. She knew how to talk and fill the silence when needed, and she also knew when Jack needed a break.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to keep one ally. But Jack didn't know how she'd manage it.
"I'm ready to go," she said, pulling her backpack on as she stood up.
They opted for silence as they traveled through the hallways, on the lookout for other alliances. Jack figured it was unlikely they'd run into anyone, since the numbers had already significantly dwindled, but that hadn't stopped them from stumbling across the Twelve boy the other day. Thinking through the other tributes that were left, Jack wanted to avoid the Twelve girl the most. She was a clear threat, but she was on her own and not even Thay had any idea of what her goal was. They'd all assumed that the other trio left would mostly keep to themselves, as the boy from Three looked especially fragile when compared to his much stronger allies. Jack thought even Eleanor could probably take him in a fight. And then there were the Sixes, who were… certainly smart, but not the strongest. Well, unless they'd been holding back somehow. But Jack didn't think that was likely.
That just left the Careers. Jack didn't particularly want to run into any of them, but the girl from Two and the boy from Four were the ones she wanted to avoid the most. Two was obvious, but there was something about Four that Jack couldn't quite put her finger on.
Perhaps he reminded her of one of the women she'd worked with, where all had seemed normal until she snapped in the middle of her job one day and nearly attacked one of the managers. Volatile, that was the word. Jack couldn't explain why, but she just had a feeling.
But now that she was thinking about Eight again, Jack's thoughts returned to her father once more, as they had been ever since that interview. And, though she didn't want to admit it, she was thinking of Almira as well. So much was swimming around in Jack's head and she didn't even know how to begin unpacking it.
Did Jack have any regrets? She wasn't sure. All Jack could say was that she missed her father every day, but the more she thought about it… did Jack just remember the way things used to be before he met Almira? She had always insisted that her father had changed - there was no other explanation for the way his principles had flipped on a dime - but surely she'd changed as well. Could they ever be what they were again?
She mulled over her own thoughts as they walked. What would she do if she could see her father again? What would she even say? She'd been unable to say anything during the goodbyes, and that could've been the last time she saw her father. He'd still managed to say he loved her and he always would, but Jack didn't say a word in response.
It was always too late.
"Jack."
She froze, her allies moving a few steps before they stopped and turned back to her. They both appeared confused, not understanding why she'd suddenly stopped still.
"Uh… Jack?" Eleanor moved towards her, holding up a hand as if she was going to touch Jack's shoulder.
Their concern made Jack realize that her hands were beginning to tremble, so she balled them up into fists. She forced her feet to keep moving. She had to be imagining things. There was no way she heard the voice of her father, not here. Not now.
"It's nothing," she insisted, shaking her head. "I just… thought I heard something."
She started walking before either of them could respond. Jack didn't want to have to look at any of them right now. She didn't know if she could handle it.
Part of her was almost grateful that she heard his voice one more time. It seemed like an eternity since Jack had heard it; perhaps she was just imagining things, her heart aching for her father so badly that it was trying to respond to something that wasn't truly there. But maybe she was finally just losing it.
"Jack."
There was the voice again, but Jack pretended she didn't hear it. She didn't want to acknowledge it. It wasn't real. It wasn't real.
But the more she told herself that, the more insistent the voice was. Jack heard her name louder and louder even as she sped up, but at this point she didn't know if she was trying to outrun the voice or if she was trying to reach it.
Jack didn't realize she was beginning to panic until the voice said something different, something familiar.
"I want the chance to be close to you again."
A noise tore out of her throat, close to a whimper as Jack spun around, trying to find the source of the voice. She had to find it, she had to. Maybe it was foolish of her to try, but…
"Dad?" she whispered, seeking out his voice once more.
The next time she heard his voice, she took off running, half blind in her sudden desperation. There was no logical way for him to be here right now, but Jack wasn't being logical right now. It was as if everything had been building up inside her and now it finally wanted to escape, leaving her nothing but a vessel for the emotions she'd been blocking off for years.
What would she even say? What could she do? Jack didn't care, she just kept running, her feet slipping on the floor and sending her careening into the wall. She barely felt her shoulder's impact, but she knew she'd feel it later.
There were words on the tip of her tongue, ones that she couldn't determine just yet. It was like she couldn't figure out what to say to her father first. I love you, come back to me, I wish you were here, I wish I was there, I-
A sudden weight hit her side, sending Jack to the floor in a heap. The weight landed directly on top of her, and before Jack could even think to cry out, a hand covered her mouth. Struggling was clearly futile, but Jack tried anyway, her primal desire to reach the source of the voice winning out over any coherent reasoning.
"Stop struggling," Eleanor hissed in her ear, her voice urgent enough to make Jack nearly snap back to reality.
"I love you, Jack."
Any noise that slipped out was muffled behind Eleanor's hand pressed against her mouth. Jack strained uselessly against Eleanor once more, the other girl's body pinning her to the floor. A pathetic whine slipped out of her mouth as she heard her father's voice one more time before she rested her forehead on the floor, squeezing her eyes shut and trying to ignore the tears that were attempting to force their way out.
After a few seconds of silence without being let go, Jack felt Eleanor stiffen above her and looked up, the figure now standing a few feet from them only a blur until she blinked away the tears in her eyes. Eleanor had managed to tackle Jack into a dark corner, Thay standing close by, but their scuffle hadn't gone entirely unnoticed. Four was watching them, her hands clutching a trident that was aimed in their direction.
Four's mouth opened and closed a few times, her hesitant gaze flickering between the girls and Thay, who looked ready to fight if things came down to it. She took a single step back and looked over her shoulder. "I don't see anything!" she called before disappearing down the hallway.
Jack couldn't bring herself to look at either of her allies. All Jack could do was think about how her own foolish actions had nearly killed all of them. She wasn't quite sure why they were alive at all.
The weight on her back slowly relieved itself, and Jack was met with a hand to pull her up. She stared at it blankly before accepting it, freezing up as Eleanor immediately pulled her into a hug.
What was she supposed to do? Every part of Jack's body was stiff, her arms partially pinned to her sides as she stood there. Jack hadn't felt this kind of affection since… since… well, perhaps ever. Physical affection had never been her thing, but she couldn't deny that after nearly dying, it was almost a comfort. One that she'd never had before.
"I'm sorry," she whispered before collapsing against Eleanor, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs. "I'm sorry."
She wasn't quite sure who it was aimed at. Perhaps herself, for being stubborn for so long. She'd never get over it, but maybe Jack needed to learn when it was okay to give a little. Perhaps her allies, who had chased her down and helped her out despite the risk of getting into danger themselves. She didn't understand why they'd do something like that, but maybe she would someday. Perhaps her father, who was safe in Eight. He was home, and Jack wanted to do whatever she could to get back to him.
They both had a lot of time to make up for.
1:57 pm, The East Wing.
Another day of fucking nothing. Kano was getting real fucking tired of it. This Arena was annoyingly large and the only cannon from today had been what had woken them up, meaning it wasn't any of them. He was going to be really pissed if that little shit from Nine had gotten the kill, but Shai had just shrugged and said there was no way to tell until the end.
Kano didn't have much of a concept of time anymore, but he was starting to get the feeling that this was going to be a long Games.
"What did Justus want with you yesterday?" Kano finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him.
"He wanted to tell me he's always been secretly fond of me," Shai said with a cheeky grin. "Which means you two have something in common!"
Kano frowned over at him before heading into one of the bedrooms to begin searching for signs of life. "He pawned you off pretty quickly today and looked irritated for most of last night when you guys got back."
"I have a special charm."
"I'm sure," Kano muttered under his breath, lifting the lid of a trunk at the foot of the bed and nearly choking on the cloud of dust that came flying out. He coughed and waved it away with a hand, trying to clear it out before leaning over to see what was inside.
"Who the fuck is that?"
Shai's voice was close enough to Kano's ear that it made him jump, whipping his head to the side to glare at Shai. "Do you mind?"
"Not really," Shai said, leaning around him to grab the picture laying on top of a collection of blankets. "I got lonely."
"Somehow I doubt that." Kano reached for the picture, but Shai moved it out of the way, squinting at it. "Give it back, I didn't get the chance to see it."
Shai dodged his arm a second time, positioning himself so he was facing Kano and glancing back and forth between him and the picture. Kano stared back at him, unamused.
"Why would there be a picture of your mom here?" Shai muttered to himself.
The brief, blinding rage that overwhelmed him at the mere thought of fucking Lyre made his next attempt at snatching the picture away successful. "I don't know! This place is fucking- wait, this isn't Lyre."
"Lyre?" Shai echoed. "Is that your mom's name?"
"Uh… yeah, I guess," Kano muttered, staring down at the photo in his hands. "Her name is Lyre and she's a real witch, but this isn't her. She's way prettier, for one. Why'd you think she was my mom?"
Shai stared at him with one eyebrow raised before laughing. "Well she looks just like you, for one. You have the same eyes."
Kano frowned without responding. The framed photo was of a young woman smiling, perhaps around the same age Kano was now. It was clearly a bit older, the edges of the photograph torn as if it had been ripped out of something. Her eyes contained all the kindness that Lyre never had, her dark curls a stark contrast to Lyre's bleach blonde hair. Whoever this woman was, she was clearly not Lyre.
"We do no- hey, give that back!" Kano reached for the frame that Shai had taken back again, this time met with a light shove to his chest that sent him stumbling into the bed, caught off guard.
"Hold on for a minute," Shai chided, turning the frame over to try and open it. When he couldn't figure it out, he smashed the glass part into the side of the dresser, ignoring Kano's cry as the glass shattered. After shaking most of the glass onto the floor, Shai carefully peeled the photo out of the frame and turned it over, a peculiar look crossing his face as he looked at the back of the photo. "'My dearest Marina, may you remain with me always, C.A.'" He glanced over at Kano and raised an eyebrow. "C.A.?"
Kano's mouth suddenly felt dry. "Uh… my dad's name was Caspian Arledge?"
"Was?"
His jaw ticked. "He's dead."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Shai said, sounding mostly genuine.
Kano forced out a laugh. "Don't be. He did it himself after I left. Maybe he finally realized he was a shit dad and felt bad or something. I just wish Lyre would do the same."
After a moment, Shai passed the photo off to Kano. "What's her problem?" he asked curiously, shifting over to the bed.
"A lot of things," Kano mumbled, turning the photo over in his hands. "She always hated me for some reason, and Caspian never did anything about it. It's not like they ever got along, anyway. She kicked me out when I told them I was dating Alec. Honestly, I figured that, more than anything, she hated seeing me happy. She was always a real piece of work like that."
"Right, the elusive boyfriend," Shai said, his expression unreadable.
"What does that mean?" Kano asked, but Shai had already stood up and started walking out of the room. "Hey!"
"Weren't you the one wanting to scout so we could find more tributes?" Shai asked over his shoulder before disappearing from the room.
Kano groaned and got up, jogging to the doorway so he could follow Shai out. He was already halfway down the hallway, head cocked to the side as if he was looking for something. "What the hell are you doing?" Kano called after him.
After he didn't get a response, Kano rolled his eyes and headed down the hallway, glancing into empty rooms as he went by. This wing was just as hopelessly empty as the one he and Makani had been exploring yesterday, but at least today was more interesting in other ways. Kano glanced down at the photograph in his hand again, frowning to himself. Maybe he did share a few similarities with the woman, but he wasn't sure that meant she was actually his mom or something. Because even if that was true…
In his moment of distraction, he'd managed to catch up to Shai and ran straight into him, nearly knocking both of them to the ground. Kano let out a soft hiss of pain, his hand going to his side, which, while better than before, still protested every time he strained it too much.
"You okay?" Shai asked immediately, eyes darting to Kano's side.
"Fine," he insisted, warding Shai's hands off. "I just didn't expect you to be standing there."
"And I didn't expect you to run into me," Shai said with a grin, nudging his arm. "I didn't take you for the clumsy type."
Kano's face heated up. "I'm not clumsy! I was… distracted."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Shai shot back.
"Shut up," Kano said without any real venom in his words, glancing down the hallway they'd come to. "Why'd you stop, anyway?"
"I thought I heard something," Shai muttered, eyes trained on something down the hall. "There's something about this place that strikes me as odd and I haven't been able to figure out how. I think… there might be something more to it?"
"More how?"
Shaking his head, Shai sighed. "That's the part I haven't figured out yet. But I mean… you know how there's weird noises all the time and parts of this place look like they haven't been touched in years? Normally I'd think that's the kind of shit from some ghost story, but it's not like this place can actually be haunted."
"Maybe it's a haunted mansion," Kano offered. "We just haven't figured out the haunted part yet."
"Then there's that picture we found," Shai mused, looking over at Kano again. "It seems to be targeted at you, which makes me wonder if there's more stuff in this Arena targeted at specific people."
Kano frowned down at his picture again, at the unfamiliar woman who smiled innocently back at him. "Do you think there's anything here for you?"
"Maybe," Shai admitted, leaning back against the wall. "But it's not like I could guess what. I mean, you don't even know who that woman is. That's not my main concern, anyway."
"What's your main concern?"
"That it goes beyond just objects. Maybe there are areas or mutts directed at a specific person, just waiting to be unlocked. Unfortunately, I think a lot of thought was put into this Arena. It feels a lot more dangerous than most of the outdoor ones because we have no idea what to prepare for in here."
Kano nodded quietly. "I guess you make a good point."
"Tell me more about Lyre," Shai requested, changing the subject fast enough to make Kano's head spin.
"What for?"
He pointed to the picture again. "That's got you thinking about your family again. I figure there has to be a reason for it. So tell me more about Lyre."
"I'm half convinced she came straight from hell, so hopefully someday she'll return there. She's fucking evil and- god, I hope this is airing and she's hearing all of it, since she didn't give me the chance to tell her before she kicked me out."
He paused and leaned against the wall next to Shai, humming to himself. "At the very least, our hatred was mutual. I'm pretty sure the reason why I was enrolled in training was because she was tired of seeing me so happy around the house. It got me out of their way for a few hours every day. And then, like I said before, she lost her shit and kicked me out the instant I told her about Alec."
Shai nodded, moving until he was standing in front of Kano. "Why'd you keep gunning for the Games if they're the ones that got you into it in the first place?"
"To prove myself for myself," Kano answered easily. "I wanted to prove to myself that I really was the golden boy, the hero all along. It made sense to do that by going along with what I was always good at."
Shai looked at him, dumbfounded, before his lips curled up into a grin. "A hero, huh? Well that just doesn't make any sense."
He let out a soft huff, glancing away when he registered how close Shai had gotten. Come on, you know how Shai works, he thought to himself. He'll say anything to drag you down with him.
But he didn't know how Shai worked, not anymore. Kano stopped understanding long ago, and now he was just along for the ride, dragged before he realized it into a game that he no longer knew how to play.
Noticing that Kano wasn't falling for whatever he was trying to pull, Shai continued on anyway. "You were a lifeguard, right?" he asked, ignoring Kano's blink of surprise as he tried to remember if he'd ever let that slip. "That means you save people, correct? What's a lifeguard doing here, in a competition all about killing?"
His nostrils flaring was the only reaction Kano had to Shai, who continued to egg him on. "You're not a hero," Shai said mockingly. "You never were. This is just the mask you put on to make yourself feel better. A real hero would never long for this future, but you've been craving it since the beginning. It's time to stop pretending, Kano. I know what you are. Do you?"
"What the hell does it matter?" Kano hissed, his anger flaring up. "Why don't you learn to mind your fucking business for once?"
"Aw, but you are my business," Shai teased, a hand coming up to graze Kano's jaw.
Kano's mind went blank, hyper aware of how close Shai was in that moment. He wasn't sure how their noses weren't touching already, and he didn't know what to do until his body reacted on its own, gripping the collar of Shai's jacket and hesitating before pushing him away.
They stayed like that for a moment, Kano able to hear blood rushing in his ears. He felt sure that his face was hot even though he couldn't quite tell why, so he just snatched his hand back and averted his gaze.
"Skittish, are you?" Shai muttered before shooting him a grin. "Never mind that. Back to patrol, right?"
Shai didn't give him the chance to respond before strolling away, leaving Kano standing there wondering what the fuck just happened. "Right," he mumbled even though the only person that could hear him was himself.
He reached his hand into his pocket where the forgotten glass pendant lay, squeezing it in his hand until he was sure it left an imprint. Maybe Kano didn't know anything anymore.
3:43 pm, Second Floor of The North Wing.
"Hey, Lilith, how did you learn to use a crossbow?"
Merix's question was innocent enough, but Lilith's instinct was still to clam up, to shut him out before he could pry any deeper than he already had. Unfortunately, she had to admit that shooting a crossbow was an odd talent for someone from Nine, as it was usually just Careers who had access to most weapons before the Games. If she used something like a scythe it would be more believable, but Lilith had never worked a day in the fields of Nine.
"It's a bit of a long story," she tried despite knowing it was futile.
"I love a good story!" Nash chipped in from where he leaned against the wall, fiddling with the gauntlet he'd gotten as a sponsor gift yesterday. Lilith's own gift of a fresh quiver of arrows was sitting up beside her, still untouched.
Their first days in the Arena had been all too quiet. It was enough to put Lilith on edge, though she supposed she should be grateful that they hadn't run into any mutts yet. Sometimes the Arena had a mind of its own though, the floors creaking even when no one was around or the walls emitting quiet thuds. Lilith even swore she heard a scream earlier, and they had to convince Merix that it was nothing at all so he wouldn't get worked up.
"I'm not sure it's a very interesting one," Lilith tried again.
"Nonsense!" Nash said with a boisterous laugh. "Nothing about you could ever be uninteresting."
As if on cue, her face heated up from the praise. Lilith coughed nervously and glanced away. "I guess I could try to share."
"Only if you want to!" Merix interjected, though his eagerness to learn more about her was clear as he shifted closer.
"I had a very dear friend back in Nine that taught it to me," Lilith said carefully, unsure how to share many parts of her story. "Her name was Annie, and she took care of me after my parents died."
"Oh, that's awful," Merix said quietly, tearing up. "I'm so sorry. Well, about your parents. Not about Annie, she sounds wonderful."
A soft smile lit up Lilith's face as she nodded. "She was. As wonderful as someone could be in Nine, anyway."
"What does that mean?" Nash interrupted, and Lilith already knew she would have to deal with interruptions a lot. "Are people not nice in Nine?"
She ducked her head to stare at her hands, shrugging a bit. "Not the ones I've met. There's kind of a 'everyone for themself' mentality in Nine, so working together isn't anyone's priority unless they're part of a big group. It's a hard place to be, with everyone intent on backstabbing each other every few minutes."
"Is that why you were so reserved at first?" Nash asked curiously. "I was wondering why you were so reluctant to ally, but this would explain a lot."
Nodding, she pulled her quiver of bolts over and began inspecting them again. "I suppose so. I'm also just not a friendly person."
Merix frowned at her. "That's not a fair statement to make about yourself. I think you're a very friendly person! You helped me out a lot before the Games."
Lilith opened her mouth to argue that that was different, and she probably wasn't even that helpful in the first place, but Nash cut her off. "Merix is right! You were definitely closed off, but it's not like that was a bad thing. You still managed to get the best allies in the game!"
"I suppose you're both decent enough," she muttered. After a beat of silence, she glanced up and said, "That was a joke."
Merix looked delighted. "That was great!"
Lilith felt sure that it was not, but she appreciated him trying anyway. It was strange to be in an environment where every little thing she did was praised, compared to back in Nine where she couldn't seem to do anything right. She figured that's why she kept having these sensations in her stomach, similar to a horde of butterflies taking off.
"So you learned crossbow from Annie?" Nash asked, getting them back on track.
"It's important to defend yourself in Nine," Lilith said with a nod. "There's no telling when you could find yourself in a situation where your life is in danger."
Blinking, Merix looked at her with startled eyes. "And that's… normal? I mean, I've only feared for my life once and that guy didn't even have a weapon, just a dumbbell."
"Uh," Nash said, glancing between them. "Neither of those things are normal."
That was the other thing about her alliance. Lilith felt as if she was constantly unlearning things from her life. Apparently not every district was like Nine, which felt obvious enough, but Lilith hadn't realized that there weren't gangs running around in other districts. If that was the case, then there certainly weren't assassins either.
"I killed people back in Nine," she blurted out, finally releasing the secret from where she'd kept it close to her chest. She'd been surrounded by people that were so good for so long that she'd worried that coming clean would taint what they had.
"Why?" was the first thing that Nash asked, tilting his head curiously.
"I was good at it," Lilith said quietly, tucking her knees up to her chest. "Some of the higher ups liked that. After… something happened, I guess I… went a little off the rails. I got found and taken in and they decided I was more useful doing what they wanted."
Merix was frowning at the floor, thinking hard about something. Lilith was too nervous to ask.
"Higher ups?" Nash finally decided on, looking over at her.
Lilith shifted uncomfortably, looking around the room as if she would suddenly discover some of the cameras that were surely watching. "Everyone in Nine is… cutthroat. Sometimes it's best to just take out the competition instead of trying to come to an agreement."
"Did they make you do it?" Merix asked, leaning forward.
She gnawed on her lip for a moment, picking at the seam of her pants. "I… yeah. Sort of. I guess I didn't really have another choice unless I wanted to die or go to prison. But I ended up here anyway, so I guess they decided they were done with me."
"What a bunch of assholes," Nash scoffed, shaking his head. "They probably threw you out before you turned eighteen and could legally have some agency in your own life."
"That's really terrible," Merix echoed sadly. "But I'm glad you're here with us now! Well, not here, but I'm glad you're with us."
Lilith wondered if they could see her smile or if they knew it was present anyway. "Me too."
"This explains why you joked about killing people a lot," Merix added after a moment of thought.
"Those weren't jokes," Lilith said with a frown. "I would kill anyone for you."
"Which is a very sweet sentiment!" Nash jumped in, laughing a bit as he glanced between them. "We appreciate it a lot, but it's not really necessary, you know? You don't have to kill people for us, you just have to be yourself."
Lilith sighed quietly. "I'm not sure if I'm very good at that."
"That's okay, Lily bean!" Nash insisted, beaming at her. "You have plenty of time to learn."
She supposed that was true. For the first time in a long time, Lilith had the chance to do whatever she wanted, and she didn't want to throw that chance away so easily.
7:15 pm, The Cornucopia.
Makani flipped through the book one more time, staring at the words as if they could possibly erase the image of her own face carved into stone out of her head. Nothing worked. She'd been trying for hours and it was still the only thing she could think about.
She couldn't figure out why it was there. Had someone in the Arena created it, or was it an actual aspect of the Arena? Makani didn't know which one was more likely, so when Phaedra had come searching for her, she just pretended like she hadn't seen anything at all. It was easier that way. She didn't want to deal with questions she couldn't even begin answering.
But, of course, that still left Alila, who was sitting beside her as they leaned against the Cornucopia. Makani was glad to have her at night, even if they couldn't hunt together during the day; without her, she didn't know how she'd be able to manage. Everyone was in at least a bit of a sour mood, save for Shai who was typically delighted by… well, Makani wasn't sure. At Alila's insistence, she avoided him as much as she could. But with Alila, Makani was never sure what to say. She was always worried she'd say the wrong thing or that she wouldn't say enough or that she'd come back one day and Alila wouldn't be here at all.
"You're worrying about something," Alila said, cutting into her thoughts.
"Who? Me?" Makani let out a nervous laugh. "I'm not worried about anything!"
Alila was watching her as if she was the most transparent person on the planet, and, all things considered, Makani probably was in that moment. "You know you can talk-"
"I got you a book," Makani blurted out, shoving the book she'd been holding at Alila.
Alila stared at her as she grabbed it. "You're the one that's been looking through it since we've gotten back."
"Uh," Makani glanced away, playing with the ends of her hair. "I wanted to look through it first?"
She could feel the weight of Alila's eyes on her, not wanting to look as Alila sighed and cracked open the book. "If you don't want to tell me what's wrong, that's okay. I st- Makani. Tell me you didn't."
Makani swallowed nervously. So she'd seen the note she left. "I, um, did."
Alila darted her eyes around nervously before leaning closer, her voice lowering to a hushed whisper that even Makani could barely hear. "You let them go? What if Phaedra had gotten close enough to see that you lied? You can't just do that, Makani."
Tears pricked her eyes that she tried to hide by ducking her head. "But… you did! I couldn't just- I couldn't. It was all three of them, I think one of the girls was crying. I felt bad! And- and besides, you did the same thing!"
"I know, which is why I know it was completely stupid!" Alila hissed, a hint of desperation leaking through. "What if one of them had taken the chance to take you out while your back was turned?"
She let out a quiet sniffle. "I didn't think of that. But none of them did!"
Alila sighed and grabbed one of Makani's hands, squeezing it reassuringly. "I'm just… I'm worried, Makani. I can't do anything while I'm stuck here all day except worry about what's going on in the rest of the Arena. You have to promise me you'll look out for yourself more."
"I promise," Makani whispered after a moment of hesitation. "I just… I felt bad, Alila, they looked like they were going through something. And even though I was with Phaedra, I didn't want to have to fight them. And, well, there was the one you helped! So I guess, in a way, I also wanted to show you that we were still on the same side?"
Alila stared at her for a long moment before shaking her head. "Makani, if you were anyone else I'd be worried about you lying. We're always going to be on the same side, okay? You don't have to do anything to prove it to me."
"Promise?" Makani asked.
"I promise. But, was that all you were worried about?"
She nodded before she could stop herself, pushing the carving into the recesses of her mind. Makani didn't need any more reasons to worry Alila, not while there still wasn't anything that could be done about it. "Will you ever tell me why you helped him in the first place?"
Alila looked taken aback by Makani's comment, but her gaze softened again. "I have a little brother, Thee. He's the most important person in the world to me. I guess he just reminded me of my brother. I acted before I could think."
"That makes sense," Makani muttered quietly. "I'd do anything for my brother, too."
Letting out a quiet laugh, Alila shook her head. "There's something so blinding about love, no matter the kind. It clouds your judgement even as it takes over your heart."
Makani smiled to herself, wiping at her eyes before glancing back up at Alila. "Also, is it just me or are Kano and Shai acting really weird tonight?"
"They're always weird," Alila said, giving her a light smile and not seeming to mind the change in subject. "But I do see what you mean."
And just like that, everything was normal again. As normal as it could be, anyway. The weight of her secrets was pressing in on her, but Makani just had to keep her head above water as long as she could. Getting one off her chest helped relieve some of the pressure, and Makani hoped she could bear it for just a little longer.
Even as she talked to Alila, all she could think about was the bust sitting up on a shelf, almost as if it was waiting for her. Makani wondered if that would be the end of it.
She couldn't possibly know that even now, Crush was beginning her next work, motivated by the idea of her muse seeing her creation. It had rendered her speechless, after all.
It had to be a sign.
10:58 pm, Second Floor of The South Wing.
Imperia hadn't seen Jude in nearly a full day.
She wasn't worried, though. Imperia was never worried. She knew how to take care of herself and so did Jude and that was all that mattered. The cannon from earlier that day was inconsequential, merely the response to the death of some foolish tribute.
(But if she wasn't worried, then why did Imperia feel the pit of her stomach sinking lower and lower as the hours dragged by? She didn't have an answer to that.)
A day on her own had been… quiet. Imperia supposed it was nice to be alone with her thoughts. She was quite lovely company, after all.
But Jude haunted her every waking thought. She couldn't shake his words from their last conversation, the accusations that had shaken her more than she was willing to admit. Imperia didn't want to admit a lot of things, but any supposed fondness for Jude was at the top of her mental list.
He was always irritating, of course. When they were children and the streets of Six were frozen and snow had been pushed aside into large piles, he would push her into them and laugh as she was unable to get up, her puffy coat restricting her movements. This sort of childish behavior had defined their entire childhood together, but she supposed it was better than being lonely and trapped at home.
"You look down, Imperia. Missed me much?"
It took an incredible amount of restraint to keep relief from overwhelming her body, so Imperia just hummed and said, "I'd never dream of it. It's about time you came crawling back. You ready to admit I was right?"
"I wouldn't say that," he countered smoothly, setting his backpack on the ground before sitting down about a foot away from her. "Maybe we were each right in our own ways."
"I'm not so sure about that."
Jude cracked a smile at that, shaking his head in exasperation. "Good to know our fight didn't turn you into more of a stone cold bitch than you already were."
"Sorry to disappoint," she said, a smirk playing at her lips.
"With the cannon earlier, I thought it would be best if I tracked you down before the faces started showing up," he gave by way of explanation. "Save you the trouble of crying over my pretty face."
"I don't cry, especially not over you," she said with a laugh. "Though it would've been a shame if a silly fight got in the way of us taking over this Arena together."
"They'll have no idea what hit them," Jude muttered to himself. "For the record, I'm not apologizing for anything."
"I'd hope not, because neither am I. Glad we're on the same page."
"I sure hope you weren't moping around all day without me," he teased.
Imperia rolled her eyes. "You and I both know I would never. Your absence left me with plenty of silence to think for once without your useless yapping."
"I like to think that's my contribution to your thought process," Jude said humbly, placing a hand over his chest. "It's a very worthwhile one."
Her huff sounded almost like a laugh of amusement, so she folded her arms in front of her. "I don't believe that for a moment."
Jude opened his mouth to say something else before they both heard a soft grinding noise as a spot on the wall behind them opened up and a projector came out, the national anthem beginning to play in their quiet space. Jude shifted beside her, his arms crossing over his chest as the wall lit up with the symbol of the Capitol.
"Any guesses?" Jude asked lightly.
"It's too early for a Career and Crush is too clever to die just yet," she said, humming to herself as the anthem continued. "My guess is it's one of the trios losing a member. The ones that have been acting like they're best friends would be entertaining, but maybe Eleanor finally-"
Imperia's words died in her throat as she saw Jude's face flash across the wall in front of her, the only death from today. She was still close enough to… whatever was with her that she didn't want to show any clear distress just yet. Instead, she slowly began to slide her hand into the backpack sitting next to her. Good thing she remembered exactly where the knives were.
"I guess the cat is out of the bag now," he said, sighing as he leaned back, stretching his long legs out in front of him. "Tragic. I was having fun, you know."
"Who are you?" she asked, cool steel in her voice as she spoke.
"What a foolish question, dear Imperia," he muttered, shaking his head. "I thought you were supposed to be the smartest of them all. Isn't it obvious? I'm Jude, just not your Jude."
She gritted her teeth in response to the clear dig at her. "Why are you here, then?"
"Isn't it obvious?" He cocked his head to the side, giving her a smile that sent chills down her spine. "My Imperia got to visit your Jude last night, so I thought it was only fair that I did the same. It's funny, isn't it?"
"So that's what happened to him," Imperia muttered, silently cursing Jude for being foolish enough to trust her returning so soon. "I suppose he deserved that."
He leered at her, a soft chuckle slipping out. "Oh, she didn't kill him. She just led him to me. We had something in common, after all."
"Besides sharing the same face and shitty personality?"
Her stomach roiled in protest as he pulled something out of his pocket, immediately recognizing it as an ice pick. There was blood crusted on it, a piece flaking off as he twirled it in his hand. "A love for lobotomies."
"You're barbaric," she breathed, eyes trained on the ice pick. Imperia wasn't sure who her comment was aimed at anymore. It wasn't as if she was talking to Jude; this was just some mimicry of him. Imperia wondered what kind sick genius back in the Gamemakers' office was overseeing their interaction right now.
"You delight me, Imperia Bachmann," the mutt laughed, setting the ice pick down next to her hand. "I truly do hope we meet again."
She watched with wide eyes as he stood up and stretched his arms over his head, appearing casual, as if he hadn't just admitted to murdering her… Jude. Imperia wanted to snatch up the ice pick and drive it through his skull, but the very idea of picking up the bloodstained weapon was revolting. She tried to open her mouth, to say anything in response, but there was nothing to say. She didn't even know where to begin.
He strolled away whistling, his upbeat attitude a stark difference from the Jude she had known. Imperia stared after him as if trying to brand this last image of him into her brain, even if it wasn't the real Jude.
Her face was hot, and Imperia lifted a hand to discover that she couldn't even cry over the information she just received. She really was just as cold and emotionless as ever, even as her head spun as it tried to process. Was she not even capable of tears for someone that had been as close to her as Jude?
Imperia Bachmann was truly an outsider now. Jude was her last tie to the world, and now that he was gone, she was untethered and adrift. Where did the outsider fit now?
For the first time in her life, Imperia had no idea what to do.
15. Jude Caterham, d6m. Lobotomized by a mutt of himself.
And god, how Jude longed to be remembered.
Kills:
Thay Yukimura: II
Shai Kingston: II
Phaedra Nikostratos: I
Alila Perwane: I
Lilith Beherit: I
Crush Xing: I
Justus Arculeo: I
Arena: I