And yes, we are finally here, the Bloodbath! I was hoping that, now that we're here, I'd be able to do weekly updates, but that may not prove possible yet. Homework I missed is coming in like a freight train, and so writing will have to be constricted to times I can't work on that. I managed to get this out in a week, though!
Reviews!
The First Adventuress: Thanks for letting me know about the name change, I'm totally okay with it (as though you need my permission) so long as you let me know you changed it. Thanks for the review!
Clis2339: Well… I suppose the only way to know Henry's fate is to read, mm? Thanks for the review!
dreams and desperation: It is surprisingly high, huh? I was surprised myself. But I mean, I suppose it makes sense. Thanks for the review!
roses burning: DON'T HAVE A HEART ATTACK! I've got enough people haunting me, so just don't. I'm excited to see the rivalry play out! Thanks for the review!
Mystical Pine Forest: You're darn right it is! Thanks for the review!
I just wanted to clear something up: I did not use a randomizer for my placements. I've yet to decide how exactly the Games will go. I used the randomizer for the order in which the tributes were launched.
Keola Foeba, Age 13, District 12
District Twelve Female, Sixth Quarter Quell
The gong rings, and I run forward without hesitation. The girl from Eleven is running to my left, and I know we're both going for the red bag halfway to the Cornucopia. I just have to get there first, I guess.
My boots pound away at the black rock under me, and already my breath is coming in shallow, heaving gasps. I wasn't made for the Arena. I wasn't even made for running.
Somehow, I reach the bag first, though when I turn, I see that Eleven isn't quite sprinting as fast as she can. She's jogging, as though she can take her time. And maybe she can, but I have to get to Cheyenne and Denny.
I thread my arm through the straps, heaving it up. Before I can secure it with my other arm, however, I feel a heavy pressure in my side, pushing me to the unforgiving ground. I hear a sharp CRACK, and I cry out in pain. The bag flies from my grasp, and I hear the girl from Eleven sprint past me.
I turn, catching her eye as she secures the bag onto her shoulders. She bows apologetically, before turning her back on me and sprinting down the mountainside. She gives Mason and the girl from Eight a wide berth, but they ignore her.
As another wave of pain radiates up my left leg, I watch the two older tributes. The big man from Two is trying to grab her, but the girl, Tulle I think, keeps dancing out of his grasp. She's tiring, however, and they both know it.
I look down at my ankle. It's swelling rapidly, the sock above my boot inflating like a balloon. I try to stand, but the bone seems to buckle under my weight, and I collapse, a fresh scream tearing from my lungs. How can I get out of this now?
The thundering of footsteps is getting louder, and I turn back toward the game of cat-and-mouse. Through the haze of my tears, I see a figure of green and gold, silhouetted against the dark green and black of the jungle below.
Behind the figure with the red hair, a larger figure, his jacket a sickening crimson.
I give a small YELP as I realize the girl from Eight's plan: get Mason to kill me first, and take the opportunity to escape.
I choke slightly, sending myself into another coughing fit. I try to crawl away, but Eight swerves in my direction, determined to survive. I wipe my eyes, wondering what I could possibly do. Sobs pound through my chest amidst the hacking cough, and I know it's all over.
But I don't want to die. I think weakly.
But the girl from the Textile District isn't fast enough. She was too far downhill, and the boy from Two catches her less than five feet from me. He snags the hood of her jacket, grinning broadly as he pulls her close. His hands snake their way around her head, and he pulls.
There's a dull THUD as the corpse lands right in front of me. I remember a girl, hanging around the camouflage station constantly. A girl whom I marveled at as she fought the trainer, hatchet in hand. She was a natural with it, and now she's dead.
I'm shaking slightly as I raise my eyes to meet the boy from Two's. He flashes another wolfish grin, and I scramble away, ignoring the pain as terror overwhelms my body. He stalks closer, leaning down as he approaches. He reaches out, his arms extended toward my head.
He steps on my ankle, and I give a small scream.
His malicious stare is suddenly replaced with one of concern. It's clearly fake; he's barely holding back a grin. He leans down to examine my injury, however, and touches it gingerly.
"You did a doozy, didn't you Twelve?" He shakes his head, and I refuse to answer. I know he's going to kill me, and I won't give him the satisfaction of hearing my last words.
"If you'd like, I can get you to the base of the mountain. Away from where the others can hurt you." He looks up to the Cornucopia, but I don't follow his gaze. I watch him instead, curious about his words. He isn't going to help me, right?
"Here." He leans down toward me, and I shift away. His expression is now one of pure annoyance, as though any sane person would comply. "We don't have much time. They'll expect me to join them soon."
He bends down again, and I flinch as he picks my upper body up in his right arm. He cradles me to his chest, and I relax slightly. There's a sharp pain as he picks up my leg, and I suppress a groan.
Then I realize his massive fist is wrapped around my swollen ankle, and he's shifting my left arm into his strong grip. My left side is on fire, my tiny frame hanging limply over the black stone. I feel myself raise slightly as he spins once, twice, and then there's no more pain from his grip as I freefall down the side of the mountain.
I almost laugh as I realize that the brute from Two kept his promise.
I do laugh when I realize that I saved Steph from this terrible fate.
Thorn Ashburry, Age 13, District 11
District Eleven Male, Sixth Quarter Quell
The gong rings, and I sprint forward without hesitation. There aren't any screams yet, and I push up the mountain to the golden horn. I think I might be ahead of some of the others, despite being younger than most of them. I hear pounding feet to my left, and a Quick glance reveals the girl from One rushing past me. It doesn't matter now, however. It's too late to turn back.
A horrid scream rips the air as I reach the Cornucopia, seconds behind the girls from One and Seven. The girl from Seven is looking for supplies, and I stop to see what loot lies in the horn. The gleam of silver is everywhere around the mouth, and deep inside I see sleeping bags, some food packets, and rope.
I look to the girl from One warily. She's ignoring me in favor of strapping a sword scabbard to her waist, a quiver of arrows slung over her back. A bow and javelin sit at the ground by her feet, having been removed from the horn already.
I shake off the strangeness of the Career's behavior as I remember what I'm doing. I came for some kind of supplies, but I can't very well use what's here, so a weapon will have to do. I'll get a bag on my way back.
Quickly, I bend down to snatch up a long, serrated dagger. I look around for enemies one more time, and I catch other Careers arming themselves. The boy from One is inside the Cornucopia, getting a feel for his mace. The girls from Thirteen and Four have gathered a trident and sword, and are circling each other a few meters away.
I jump as the girl from Seven pushes past me, still searching for supplies. I gasp as I see the boy from One's eyes hone in on me.
Time to run, Thorn. And I do.
I flee for my life, ignoring a sickening SQUELCH as I pass the girls from Four and Thirteen, now locked in combat. The knife in my hand, I know, is no match for that mace, and I don't look back until I'm halfway to the pedestals.
I glance over my shoulder, but see no sign of pursuit. I sigh, catching sight of a dark green pack next to the lava. I run over, happily slinging it over my shoulder. Suddenly very confident, I turn to continue heading back down.
I freeze, however, when I see the girl from Two grinning at me wickedly. I see a small, broken corpse on the neighboring wedge, and I recoil in anger. The light blue of his jacket indicates the boy from Thirteen. He was the youngest of us, and the older girl has the nerve to smile.
I feel the heat building in my temple, and I charge forward, screaming. This girl has no right to live. She's a monster, a murderer.
Through the haze of my anger, I see her lift a knife to throw. I duck, but all that earns my is a burning pain in my right shoulder. I drop the knife, hissing in agony. I fall to my knees, cradling my wound.
All I can hear are the slow footsteps of the Two girl. She takes her time, aware that I'm not going anywhere.
She stops, and images flash through my mind. My sister bleeding out, after the Peacekeepers found out my mother had disappeared. My rage in the Training Center. My mother in the hospital wing, explaining everything. Promising to fight for me.
"You should learn to control your temper, Eleven." I look up as the knife flashes, tugging across the side of my neck. Through the pain, I hear the clatter of metal against stone.
I'm gurgling blood. Convulsing uncontrollably. Above me, past the Two girl's face, the sun shines brightly.
The sun is warm, but I am so cold.
Harvest Miller, Age 14, District 9
District Nine Female, Sixth Quarter Quell
Twenty-six children take off running, many going uphill and, I suspect, even more fleeing into the jungle. I know that the boy from Five turned tail and ran, but my hope is that the Careers will be too busy with the others to notice me. Granted, my training score doesn't help me.
The yellow bag is near the mouth of the Cornucopia, about ten meters away from an orange one. The yellow one, however, is directly between me and the Cornucopia. This way, I don't have to turn my back until I'm sprinting away.
I give an involuntary hiss as the boy from Six passes me on my left, bee lining for the bag. I know in that moment that I need that bag. My bag. I must do whatever I can to get it.
I push myself harder, catching up to the older boy. He's larger than me, stronger. But if I catch him while he's grabbing the bag, then maybe…
He bends over, looping his arm through the strap. I leap, allowing all my anger to flood into my arms in an attempt to shove him over, and it works. He drops the bag, throwing his arms off in an attempt to throw me. I don't give him the chance, however, as I jump off his back, allowing him the ability to throw his own weight to the ground. I run uphill to the fallen supplies, gripping both straps in my fist.
I hear a groan from behind me, and I turn toward it. The boy from Six is back on his feet, walking toward me. He's still slightly disoriented, however, and I know that he could catch me before I reach the jungle. It's either give him the bag, fight, or run headlong past the Cornucopia.
I sprint downhill, a rushed plan formulating in my head. The boy looks as if he's gaining strength, walking more than staggering now. When I'm near him, I jump, swinging the bag at his face. Instead of trying to avoid it, he braces himself, and his head doesn't snap back as I might have hoped. He's still moving on the ground, but a call of glee from behind me diverts my attention.
The boy from One is charging toward me, swinging his mace wildly. There's flesh and blood flying everywhere, and I know he was probably told by his mentor to attack Thanatos and I first. So I run, hoping that Marcus won't leave behind the easy kill of the Six boy.
As I run, I listen hard. A shrill laugh echoes around the mountain, growing fainter before stopping short. I don't hear any signs of pursuit, however, and I risk looking back. The Six boy is dodging around the mace, but it's only a matter of time before he dies. I should feel guilty, but I did it to survive.
As I reach the base of the mountain, I stop for a moment, breathing shakily. I wonder who's already dead at this point. At least one, the flesh on that mace had to come from somewhere. I look up at the boys from One and Six again, and I want to cry as I see someone with fiery orange hair holding a bow near the top of the volcano. I turn away, not wanting to see what I have done.
I shouldn't be here. Stupid Capitol. Stupid rebellion. Wheat was in my position for years ago because my mother and father were active rebels. Mother suspected that I was Reaped because of her actions, which ceased years ago. No. It's because Wheat followed her path, and now I've gotten someone killed.
I reach the tree line, but stop short. A boy is walking toward me, his jacket such a deep red it's purple. I recognize the tall figure of the boy from Five, the one who was launched next to me. There's a slightly greedy look in his eyes, but also one of fear. His eyes dart upward behind me, quickly looking back.
The massive tree limb in his grasp is more than a little imposing. He hefts it over his shoulder, glaring.
"Please hand over that bag, Nine. We don't have much time, and I need it more than you do." He takes a step forward, and I flinch back. I recall him using a staff in training, and while I wouldn't be worried about taking him, I don't have a weapon. He does.
"Come on, Nine, I said please. We really don't have time for this, and I honestly would rather not kill you." Slowly, reluctantly, I slip the bag from my shoulders. This is what I got that boy killed for. To lose the supplies to a coward without honor. I drop it at my feet.
His eyes narrow as he takes another tentative step. I step back again, aware of the ground I'm losing. Surely, the Careers are close behind.
"Just take the bag and go." I plead, losing a few more steps. He cocks his head, collecting the pack. After he secures it to his shoulders, he looks at me again.
"What did you do, Nine?" He asks, and I almost laugh. Now? "For that nine, I mean."
"I didn't-"
"What did you do!" He steps toward me, and now I feel the heat of the lava warming my calves.
I step back, fear depriving me from speech. His glare is like fire, his scowl menacing. He raises the club.
Pain explodes through my chest, before my body erupts in fire. I scream.
Marcus Caelum, Age 17, District 1
District One Male, Sixth Quarter Quell
The gong sounds, and suddenly it's like I can't see. Everything around me is a blur, save for the Cornucopia and the bounty found inside. A bounty for me and my allies to take. A bounty I have to protect.
I hear a distant scream before I'm halfway to the horn. I hope one of the others got the boy from Thirteen. I nearly killed him after his stunts in training. It would be all too satisfying to see his face in the sky tonight.
I'm nearly there, I can feel it. I allow my mind's eye to wander to the hammer that's sure to be waiting there, on it's own stand. The Gamemakers are ever so gracious to-
I give a small cry as my face collides hard with the ground. I sit still for a moment, mentally checking myself. I don't feel hurt, save for a throbbing in my jaw and ankle, and my bleeding nose. Slowly, I survey the area. The girl from Seven is looking through the supplies, unaware of how close the two of us are. I get up slowly, looking down at the small hole that I happened to step in. I feel my cheeks flush, imagining what they must be thinking back home.
Shaking my head, I break into a sprint, determined to show them what I can do. I am here to win, and I must focus.
I'm still sprinting as I pass the boy from Eleven and the girls from Seven and Thirteen. I can't get a good kill without a weapon. I need my hammer.
I'm disappointed when I find that there are very little supplies here, just a bunch of sleeping bags and rope. I guess the Gamemakers didn't want the outer Districts to see there was nothing; that's why the Cornucopia is on top of a volcano. I can feel the heat seeping in through the floor, and I wonder how I'll be able to sleep at night.
I grunt in frustration when I see the weapons littered on the ground. There're swords, knives, spears- is that a crossbow?- but no hammer. I curse inwardly. Maybe a Sponsor will send one.
Reluctantly, I pick up the weapon that I'm good with, yet prefer to not use. The ball-and-chain mace is a little heavy, with no grip on the handle; just sheer metal. I sigh, swinging it experimentally. This will have to do.
I look to the mouth, where I see the boy from Eleven, watching me. I take a step forward, and he flees, only a knife in hand. I didn't want to kill him anyway.
I catch sight of the girl from Seven as I approach the open air, and she doesn't notice me for a moment. Once, she does, however, her eyes widen in fear, and she turns, dropping the hatchet she had been carrying. I sprint after her, catching up to her after only a few strides.
On instinct, I swing the mace around, and the girl's momentum sends us both tumbling forward. I stand, checking myself for injuries for a second time. I look down at the girl from Seven.
Her once beautiful face, the one that enthralled the Capitol, is a bloody mess, something seen in horror movies (or, perhaps, the Hunger Games). I can see my mace, wrapped around her neck and torn away from the fall, resulting in the near-beheading of the girl.
I moan in disgust as I jerk my weapon from the corpse, further mangling the body. There's blood, and bone, and warped flesh, and I turn away, looking for other targets.
I catch sight of the girl from Nine and the boy from Six fighting across the lava, over a backpack. I recall Gloss telling me to take out the Nines as early as possible. I guess I can take care of one now.
Unwilling to make the jump, I'm forced to run back uphill to where the rock spans over the flow, and I reason that there must be something like tunnels under the stone. I charge on the fighting pair, before I catch the girl's eye, causing her to hit the boy over the head with the bag and bolt. I snarl. I can still get Six.
He stands groggily, having probably suffered more than one blow to the head. He looks around in a panic, and ducks just as I swing for his head. My momentum carries me past him, but I recover quickly, looking up at the boy. He's my age. He could be trouble.
He tries to run around and past me, but the gap here is relatively narrow, and he can't avoid me. I end up chasing him around the hard, barren ground, unable to land a blow but refusing to let him get away. Every one I take down is one less for later. I will win this.
Finally there's a misstep, and the boy crashes to the ground, rolling a little way. He looks up at me as I charge triumphantly, hoping to make this a little less bloody. If they'd given me the freaking hammer…
With no warning, I'm thrown to the ground for what must be the third time in five minutes. Pain shoots through my back, like lightning struck my fighting arm. I drop my weapon, writhing in agony as it rolls away. I roll onto my back, hoping to breathe better, but the pain becomes more unbearable as I'm suddenly stopped.
Feet rush past me, and I almost cry in relief as I see Malaya, bow and quiver slung on her back, javelin in hand, following after the boy. He swipes an orange backpack on the way down, but I'm not worried. Malaya will catch him.
I close my eyes as they disappear into the jungle.
Esmeralda Dawn, Age 18, District 4
District Four Female, Sixth Quarter Quell
As I reach the Cornucopia, I look around at the bounty of supplies. I'm confused, however, to find what little there actually is here. I suppose they're going to be expecting us to find sustenance in the jungle. Like the outer Districts. I snarl.
I tense, my hunter's instinct sending a series of sirens through my veins. I feel the adrenaline overtake me, and I drop to me knees, rolling over a sword, which I grab as I jump back to my feet. I turn to face my attacker, and I smile.
"Fancy finding you here, Thirteen." I say seductively, and the girl rolls her eyes, annoyed. She raises the trident again.
"Let's get this over with, Four." She hisses, lunging forward. I jump out of the way, swinging downward. She avoids my blow, however, and retreats a little ways down the hillside. I follow, sword raised. She angles her trident for my throat, holding her ground.
I attack first, planning to catch the younger girl off guard. She blocks, however, and reciprocates with another lunge. I jump back, but I'm forced to duck as she allows the weapon to slip an extra few inches through her grasp. She quickly pulls back, however, scowling as she realizes she didn't score a hit.
We continue our dance, and I'm surprised at her stamina and strength. I'm mainly dodging her strikes, sending my own slashes her way when I see an opening. Tributes pass by us, but Rebelle and I are too busy fighting in the middle of our storm of hatred to care. I have no reason to hate her, really. She just wants to kill me because I trained for this. I want to kill her because she's my opponent.
We couldn't have been fighting for more than a couple minutes when the Twos appear, ignoring us in favor of looking through the supplies. I don't know where the Ones are, but quite frankly, I don't care.
I can tell that Thirteen is wearing down, losing strength. Her lunges are growing less frequent, allowing me to get closer. I can't quite get close enough to kill her, however, as I just don't have the reach.
At last, I see her mistake. She spins the trident, arcing the non-sharp end toward my head. I duck, stepping in close. I swing my own blade toward her right side, her dominant side. She recovers faster than I might have imagined, however, and catches my sword between the prongs. She gives a quick twist, and I cry out as it's ripped from my grasp, spiraling behind the young girl.
I hear Cassia call out, but I ignore her. Rebelle has a fire in her glare as she advances, slowly. I smirk, cocking my head. Bring it, girl.
She shoves her weapon forward, and I sidestep. While she slips it for extra reach, I grab it, wrenching it from the girl's grasp. I spin, cementing the weapon in both hands. As I face the pale-skinned girl again, I thrust.
The girl gives a gasp of surprise as she looks down at the unnatural steel protruding from her stomach.
I hear a sound, similar to the twang of a bowstring yet somehow sharper, followed by a flash of black between me and Thirteen, a hiss, and the horrible sound of retching. I watch as Rebelle's eyes glaze over, before she gives a last choke, falling.
I turn to the Cornucopia, where Soot is still heaving his breakfast. His knuckles are white around the crossbow he found, and I'm relieved that we managed to keep possession of it. I narrow my eyes as I stalk over to the miner boy, the Twos following suit.
"What are you doing with that, little boy?" I ask, looking down. Soot slowly meets my gaze, fear in his eyes. I smile. "You weren't trying to… kill me, were you?" His face pales further, and I snarl. "Answer me!"
"I-I didn't-" He stutters, throwing it away. "I didn't know how to, um, use it. Sorry Mera." He mumbles the last part, looking away from me. I smirk, preparing for my show.
"You're sorry?" I ask in disbelief. "Oh, he's sorry guys. It's okay." I turn to the Twos, suddenly aware that the Ones are still missing. I laugh, looking back at the boy. "Guess what?" I ask him. He looks into my eyes, his fear turned to hope.
"I don't believe you."
His eyes widen in terror, and he stands, taking a few steps back. I follow him, deeper into the Cornucopia. He's stuttering, stumbling, before he trips over a spear. I smile, lifting up the weapon.
"Let me help you." I say, driving it into his leg. He stares me in the face, but no sound escapes him. "Cassia, let me see one of your knives please."
Sparky Montgomery, Age 12, District 13
District Thirteen Male, Sixth Quarter Quell
The gong rings, and I run forward without hesitation. For the moment, the only sound is that of pounding feet, as twenty-six children run toward their fate. Some may flee down the mountain and into the darkness of the jungle, unwilling to risk a quick death now in exchange for a more drawn-out death later.
The lava flowing to my right makes me sweat, but I have to ignore that for now. I am alone on my little wedge, the boys from Seven and Ten having already fled the area. But people seldom run and survive without stealing from another. I was the bright one here, and I'll laugh as I usually do when their faces show in the sky in a couple days.
The bag is a hundred meters from my pedestal, up the mountain. It's steeper here than it seemed during the countdown, and I stumble slightly as more sweat runs into my eyes. I slip my finger under my glasses as I hesitate, wiping them as thoroughly as I dare. I don't have any time to waste.
I reach the bag, and bend over, slipping the black strap up my arm. Adjusting can come later. When I'm safe.
I see movement in front of me, where the girls from Two and Five are rushing forward. I hadn't realized I was so fast.
Both grab the throwing knife vest on the ground in front of them, but the girl from Five is forced to drop it in order to duck out of the way of Two's flying steel.
Everything seems to slow down. I can see that Five had held onto a blade as she dropped the vest, and threw it at her opponent as another flew over her head. I can see that other knife, a ten-inch piece of metal honed to a point in some factory somewhere, arcing lazily through the air.
Two screams as Five's weapon impales her hand, and it mingles with my scream of pain. Five picks up the vest while Two is distracted, and flees down the mountainside.
Two curses in rage, and I think she throws a knife at Five's back. But I'm too busy with the one embedded in my stomach to care.
It's unnatural in my body, and I pull it out, sending tendrils of fire dancing up my spine. A scream rips my throat, and I collapse to my knees. I look up, to where the girl from Two is. I see a glint of metal through the haze of the heat, through my tears, through the most pain I have ever felt in my life.
There's a numb sensation of shredding in my neck, and I collapse, choking.
I wonder if Mother is going to miss me. Or even remember me.
Holy shoot this is depressing me, geez…
I will hold back death announcements until the recaps each night.
dreams and desperation: 161 (Cassia Lyra Maurise, District Two Female)
The Fangirl in Pink Jeans: 79 (Infiniti Reagan, District Three Female)
caitiebug007: 85 (Devon Cynthia Rose, District Five Female)
roses burning: 98 (Devon Cynthia Rose, District Five Female)
The First Adventuress: 179 (Aran Quade, District Six Male)
JaymanRepublic: 95 (Logan Woodson, District Seven Male)
Clis2339: 126 (Henry Reynoso, District Eight Male)
Wolfie McCoy: 59 (Thanatos Rize, District Nine Male)
Mystical Pine Forest: 166 (Cheyenne Bruno, District Ten Female)
Jaybird8101: 130 (Rebelle Sunflower Rine, District Thirteen Female)
Alliances!
Careers (161 points): Marcus (1), Malaya (1), Mason (2), Cassia (2) (161, dreams and desperation), Esmeralda (4), and Soot (12).
Reluctance (72 points): Infiniti (3) (72, The Fangirl in Pink Jeans), and Kenzi (7).
Brains and Brawn (126 points): Blue (4), and Henry (8) (126, Clis2339).
Sacrificial Lambs (166 points): Denny (10), Cheyenne (10) (166, Mystical Pine Forest), and Keola (12).
Children of Amber: Thorn (11), and Willow (11).
Maybe Alliance!
Malaran (Araya?) (179 points): Malaya (1),
Loners!
Cordin (3)
Devon (5) (183) (85, catiebug007) (98, roses burning)
Darius (5)
Jetta (6)
Aran (6) (179) (179, The First Adventuress)
Logan (7) (95) (95, JaymanRepublic)
Tulle (8)
Harvest (9)
Thanatos (9) (59) (59, Wolfie McCoy)
Rebelle (13) (130) (130, Jaybird8101)
Sparky (13)
Questions!
So, um… who do you think died?
What do you think of our tributes' situations?
Any thoughts on the future?
Concerns?
I wrote this last bit while running on 30 mins of sleep. Over almost 2 days. Anything feel wrong or anything?
Until the end of the day,'
Lord Zagreus
