And here we are with Day 1! Here we will find out a little bit more about the Arena, check up on our tributes' supplies, and maybe reunite with some allies! Let's do this!

Reviews!

roses burning: Thanks for letting me know about the "Thhirteen" thing, I went back and fixed it and gosh I'm embarrassed lol. Thanks for the review!

Clis2339: I assure you, now that I'm out of the walking boot and in a brace, I should be able to catch more sleep. Thanks for the review, and your kind words!

dreams and desperation: I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter, it's been honestly the easiest to write so far (I think that the action and blood might be what's helping me. I think I'm a psychopath now.) and I'm really excited to see how these Games play out. Thanks for the review!

The First Adventuress: Oh, trust me, I am bringing it. And really, it does feel great to have finally made it this far. I'm super excited for what's to come, and I hope you enjoy it!

If you haven't already, I must ask that you read through the chapter before jumping to the bottom to see who all died today. Those guilty of skipping will… Well, I guess I can't stop you.


Henry Reynoso, Age 14, District 8

District Eight Male, Sixth Quarter Quell


This jungle terrifies me slightly. No, more than slightly. Every sound, every rustle of the tall trees around me makes me jump, and I can't stop myself from wondering what horrors lie in wait, in the darkness.

Of course, the screaming that's been going on the past five minutes doesn't help either.

I'm not that far past the tree line, as I told Blue I'd wait for him to find me somewhere close to the Cornucopia. Of course, I wasn't expecting to wait twenty minutes for the older boy to show up. I wish he'd get here, because then I could get away from the Bloodbath and the screams.

They echo around the mountain, and I suspect that they're the reason the initial cannons haven't gone off yet, because the Careers are playing around with some poor, defenseless tribute. They're waiting until he's dead to sound the death toll. I wonder how long he'll last. I know it's a boy, probably around my age, maybe younger. Being around the hospital in Eight has its perks for something, I suppose.

I take a deep breath, looking down at the jungle floor. There's moss everywhere, vines, plants, and insects, mostly ants, are scattered around, nearly covering the volcanic earth. I wonder what kind of plan the Gamemakers are going to put into motion, and I remember again, the shadows that dot the area. The trees are tall, the branches and leaves thick, leaving parts of the jungle pitch-black in the middle of the day.

I shift slightly, listening to my jacket rub against the bark of the tree I'm sitting in, about twenty feet above the ground. I decided it would be best to wait for Blue up here, where other tributes can't get to me first. This massive tree limb, thicker than the boy from Two is wide, makes the perfect place to sit.

And wait.

Sighing deeply, I finger the zipper of the backpack. My backpack. I shouldn't open it; Blue would want to be here. I think so, at least. But I'm curious. I risked my life to get this, though I went particularly ignored. I guess the Careers were more intent on Nine and Thirteen and Seven than the small, insignificant boy from Eight.

Screw it. I think, yanking the blue bag open. Then I stop. I don't want anybody to hear me digging through my supplies. I peek inside, carefully removing the first item.

It's a plastic baggie, filled with a little more than a dozen strawberries. Fresh, juicy strawberries. I open the bag quickly, withdrawing a single fruit from the bag. I bite into it eagerly, aware that I must save the rest as long as possible, even though they will go bad quickly. I carefully replace the strawberries, and pull out a coiled bullwhip. I'm surprised; there aren't usually weapons of this caliber in bags. A knife, sure. A hatchet, maybe once a decade. But anything better than that? Never.

One by one, I remove the items from the bag, examining them for a moment before replacing them. Besides the strawberries (fourteen now) and the whip, I find five (filled) water bottles, one of which I take a long swig from, a baggie like the one with strawberries, except with dried peaches (I opt to save those), a small vial of iodine, and four ACE wrap bandages, good for splints and, if required, puncture wounds. All in all, I feel I got a good score from the Cornucopia, even if I never actually went inside the horn. I wonder, for a moment, at what might be up there…

I shake my head as the screams meet a new height. They're not so much cries of fear as they are of anger, betrayal and pain. I'm beginning to suspect that this may be the real reason the Careers asked the Twelve boy to join them, but I have no desire to find out. I'll see when they show the faces of the dead tonight.

I freeze as the jungle goes quiet, as though waiting to see what is going to happen. I press myself against the rough bark, asking the Capitol for the millionth time why Eight has to wear a golden yellow in the Arena as their District color. This is why we often die early on…

I hold my breath as something moves in the shadow of a nearby tree. The glint of silver darts from the darkness, followed by the wielder. I sigh quietly as I recognize the blue of the boy's jacket, his dirty blond hair a mess, eyes scanning his surroundings. His lips are moving, whispering.

He looks up at me, startled, as I call quietly, "Blue!"


Mason Lepodolite, Age 18, District 2

District Two Male, Sixth Quarter Quell


I smirk as the Twelve boy's mutilated corpse stops squirming under the weight of the ropes that Cassia and I are holding. I drop mine as my District Partner recovers her knife from Mera, who had already begun to clean it off. We step back out into the sunlight, the heat, as the cannons finally start firing.

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

"We'd better clear out for a few minutes, let them pick up the bodies. And maybe see if we can find what's happened to the Ones." Mera suggests, looking for the sword she dropped in her fight with the girl from Thirteen. Cassia shrugs, starting down the mountainside, her vest filled with over a dozen knives of all shapes and sizes.

I strap a sword to my belt and haul the Twelve boy into the sunlight, figuring it will give the hovercraft better access.

Mera and I shrug to each other, realizing that Cassia is going off alone whether we like it or not. We split ourselves, figuring we could maybe search the dead for the One tributes. It would be really lame if they had died this early in the Game.

I groan as I catch sight of a light, sickly green jacket halfway down the side of the mountain that I had chosen to take. Keeping my walking pace, I approach the prone form of my ally.

I take in the arrow lodged in his shoulder, the bloodied mace, and the dark crimson creating a small pool on the boy's back. I take another few steps, wondering who might have done this. Malaya uses a bow, but would she have killed her District Partner? It's a bit early for that. Maybe the girl from Ten was a better archer than we all thought… She seemed pretty horrible in training, though-

I'm shaken from my thoughts as a groan breaks between Marcus' lips. He raises his head slightly, and I'm left with a decision. I can either go look for a pack, and hopefully some bandages, making it impossible for the hovercraft to show up, or, I can take the near-unconscious boy with me, caring for him in the jungle.

Sighing, I throw my ally over my shoulder and carry him down the mountain. I notice that there are no packs on this particular wedge, and I wonder just how many are left to supply us. If it comes to it, we may have to find a place to camp down here, not that I wouldn't mind being away from the sweltering heat of the Cornucopia.

I march through the tree line, gently laying Marcus down on a bed of moss. I look at the arrow for a moment, unsure of what to do. All we learned back home was stab, slash, and kill. Nothing about saving lives. True warriors don't need to be saved.

I sigh, deciding that it would be best to get the arrow out. Now, before the wound scabs over. I remember watching a Game where a tribute's scabbed-over wound got infected because she left a small, dirty piece of a knife in there, thinking the Games would end soon and the Capitol would save her. The Victor that year won by default, the Gamemakers prolonging the Game for a week so the girl could die. Yes, best to get the arrow out.

I worry slightly about how my image in the Capitol will be affected by my sudden change in character, but I push the thought away. This needs to be done, lest we lose too many members of the alliance so soon. I haven't seen hide nor hair of Malaya yet, and Blue abandoned ship before the Games even started. We may have already lost Malaya, we can't lose both Ones on the same day.

The boy moans from his prone position on the ground, and I straddle his lower back, figuring I'd need the leverage to remove the projectile from his shoulder. I grasp the shaft in both hands, and I gather my strength for a quick jerk, figuring it would be easiest. I tug with all my strength, though the arrow releases Marcus with little resistance. I topple off the boy, who's attempting to curl up from the pain.

I examine the barbed head, fascinated by the bits of flesh dangling from the sharp tips. None of my kills were like this, both were bloodless and relatively painless, victories of brute strength and superiority. Nothing as vicious or cunning as a silver arrow.

I bend down over the boy, watching as blood slowly trickles down his spine, a small pool forming above his hips. I look back to the Cornucopia. There's likely no time for me to get supplies at this point, and from what I saw, there isn't much that can help me.

I straighten my back, surveying the area. The large leaves in the nearby trees will have to make a suitable bandage, and perhaps a vine to tie it all off. I roll my head around, popping my neck. In one quick stride, I'm standing beside the nearest tree, and I reach up, hoisting myself onto the lowest branch. Before I know it, I'm halfway to the top, and I grab three massive leaves, which could honestly wrap around a smaller person's shoulders.

As quickly as I climbed up, I make my way down. Marcus is now sitting up, his eyes glassed over. I snatch a thick vine from the jungle floor before making my way toward him. He barely glances at me, his eyes staring ahead.

"Where's Malaya?" He asks quietly.

"Marcus." I say, "I need you to remove your jacket and undershirt. These Capitol arrows mean business, and we need to treat that."

Slowly, he removes his clothing, and I quickly press two of the leaves to the wound. "Where's Malaya?" He repeats, wincing from the pressure.

"We don't know." I answer, carefully tying a small knot between his shoulder blades.

"She shot me." I pause, shocked, thinking.

"We'll get her."


Logan Woodson, Age 16, District 7

District Seven Male, Sixth Quarter Quell


I know I must have been in here an hour and a half, but still I can hear the rapid beats of my heart. The Bloodbath is over, I know, the cannons have already gone off. But I'm still afraid. That is perhaps the true meaning of the Game, the psychological torture of knowing Death can show his swift hand at any moment, and you'd never see it coming.

I think the eight fallen might be the lucky ones. I few seconds of fear or pain, and then nothing as their soul drifts into the dark forest.

I shake my head. I have to calm down. The pack on my shoulders hangs heavy, pressing down on me as I ponder on how much it cost. Images of the Thirteen boy, looking down at the knife in his belly in horror, and the screams that followed, are going to haunt me tonight. I could have died. I could have died…

I give a groan of frustration as my foot snags another vine. I've been walking for at least an hour without stopping. Maybe I'm safe enough for the time being.

I scan the area quickly, almost wishing I had stumbled upon some sort of clearing in the trees, but no such luck. The jungle is dark, the trees pressing close together in all directions. It's almost impossible to not get lost in here, not without scaling the massive mangroves. That's where I'm lucky, I suppose, being from Seven.

I sit down, lifting the bag from my shoulders before pressing my back into a little alcove in the trunk of a tree. Here, I'm trapped if I'm found, but I will not be easily seen. I should be able to look through my prizes before danger kicks me in the face.

As quickly and quietly as possible, I unzip the purple backpack, throwing my hand inside. I curl my fingers around the first prize they touch, and I withdraw. I frown in disappointment at the small box of dried grapes, something I vaguely remember Lily snacking on while watching the T.V. Carefully, I set the small box on the ground, determined to save it as long as possible.

Hoping there's nothing fragile inside the bag, I throw caution to the wind, dumping it all out at once. Multiple items hit the forest floor, and I freeze as a small vial rolls out. Everything seems to slow down, and I cringe as the glass bottle smashes to the ground. The liquid inside, a devilishly purple substance, bubbles and hisses as the ground absorbs it, and then it's gone.

Shaking, I put the bag down, looking over my haul. I've already lost whatever was in the bottle, but perhaps I can make use of the rest of this.

Besides the raisins, I find that there are ten grain bars, three rolls of ACE bandages and a rolled up piece of paper. I open it cautiously, and I gasp.

While I have next to no food, and no way to contain water, I certainly have an advantage over the others, maybe even the Careers! The paper between my hands has no writing, but one large picture. A map. I see that the Cornucopia is in the center of a small island. I can see a cliff to the northwest, perhaps ten kilometers from my current location, if I'm right. While it isn't detailed much more than that, simply having it is quite reassuring.

Perhaps I don't need to be afraid yet.


Darius Line, Age 17, District 5

District Five Male, Sixth Quarter Quell


It's got to be two or three in the afternoon and I'm still shaking. I'm really deep in the jungle, having ran as fast as I possibly could after the Bloodbath. After I killed her.

I still don't understand why I did it. I had the supplies in the pack, why did I have to go the extra mile and actually kill her? I can still see the look of horror and betrayal ruining her (admittedly beautiful) features, still hear her horrible screams as they became gurgles behind me. I'm a murderer. A monster.

My breath is coming in shallow, heaving gasps as I finally collapse, away from the carnage and the brutality and the nightmares. She was so young, and for what? Tributes get fluke scores all the time, did I really kill her for that? She didn't deserve it, and now she's among the first eight to appear in the sky of the Sixth Quarter Quell Arena.

Shakily, I slip the pack off my shoulders, though the process takes longer than it probably should. I remember again the young girl steadily holding the yellow backpack out to me, believing me when I said I wouldn't hurt her. I hadn't planned to, but…

I shake my head again. It shouldn't matter this much to me. Through her death, I might be able to survive now. I unzip the bag, my hands a little steadier than before. Pulling the mouth wide, I peer in.

The first thing I notice is the glint of silver. A knife. It isn't very long, but it can do the job when needed. Wrapped around the weapon is a thick coil of wire, probably left mainly for the Three tributes. I don't know as much about wire as they might, but perhaps I could rig something. There's a thin tube, a little over a foot in length, a plastic bag containing half a dozen darts attached to it.

Carefully, I remove all my items from the bag, and look over them. Besides the knife, wire, blowgun and darts, I find a long coil of rope, ten matches, and two empty water bottles. I search through the bag again quickly, hoping desperately that I might find some kind of food. Nothing.

I really shouldn't complain too much, though. I'm alive, I have supplies, I have a weapon. Eight are dead and my odds of survival has surely grown exponentially.

But at what cost?


Infiniti Reagan, Age 17, District 3

District Three Female, Sixth Quarter Quell


The sun is going to set soon, and still I can't find my ally. It's no wonder, however, seeing how thick and dark this jungle is. I could be hopelessly lost right now and not even know it. Luckily, for the moment, I have no desire to be anywhere in particular. Wandering is the only thing I can honestly do, and the Gamemakers can't be bored yet.

Not with the eight children already dead earlier today.

Eight. Honestly on the low end, but still around average. I'll have to find a break in the trees or something to see the death recap tonight, and as the day grows old, I'm becoming increasingly worried about what will be revealed. I remember Cordin mentioning that he was just going to run, and Kenzi assured me of the same thing. I shouldn't see them, but I can't not worry until I can be certain.

I know I'm several kilometers from the Cornucopia and the volcano by now, and the Careers will still be sorting through their supplies. I hope they don't have much, that what I took dealt a blow to their chances of survival.

I had sorted through my blue backpack before the cannons went off, about thirty minutes after the gong. I understood then why it had been so heavy, and I quickly took a swig from one of the five filled bottles of water. I also managed to acquire over a dozen strawberries, a bag of dried fruit, a bottle of iodine, a few bandages and even a bullwhip. A decent haul, something that should sustain Kenzi and I until we can find food and water sources.

I'm surprised at how calm I am here. I had always imagined myself curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth and muttering to myself as a Career bore down on me. The stillness and isolation here, however, is almost relaxed, peaceful. Much unlike the loud and busy factories in Three. Heck, I can actually breathe here. I feel as though I haven't accepted such clean, fresh air in, well… ever. In reality, it's the sad truth.

I wonder what they're thinking back home. Mama, Papa, Riker. Laci. Bo. Are they worried for me? Do they have any hope that I'll make it? My odds this morning were 26-1. Now that I've outlived so many others, how has that changed?

I sit down against a small tree near the edge of a clearing. I slide my bag from my shoulders again, deciding to snack on another strawberry. It's interesting how people at home would do anything for one of these red fruits, and yet I've had them my whole life. I even get the luxury of their taste in the Hunger Games. If I win, I'm going to hand strawberries out every day as I go about my errands. Allow those who, admittedly, are more deserving of such a treat to actually get one or two.

However, I think as a cloud blocks out more of what little light filters through the trees, the odds of actually going home are even slimmer than they seem. I have to find Kenzi. As the Careers have found, in the Arena, there is strength in numbers.


Willow Orchids, Age 13, District 11

District Eleven Female, Sixth Quarter Quell


I don't know how long I've been waiting here, on the banks of a wide river, wondering when on earth Thorn is going to come find me. I've set up a little camp, happy to be on the side of the water opposite the Cornucopia and the Careers.

It's getting dark, and that scares me. My District Partner told me to turn and run, straight behind my pedestal, that he'd brave the Cornucopia for supplies. That he'd find me. But he isn't here. Eight cannons went off today. What if he's one of them?

Despite my own protests, memories of this morning surface again. Fighting Keola from Twelve for my bag. The sharp crack as she fell. Her own screams, cutting through the air behind me as I fled through the jungle, before stopping abruptly. She is almost certainly dead, I know, and while I didn't kill her myself, I assisted in her final moments.

Perhaps, if Thorn is dead, it is punishment for depriving the Twelve girl of life.

I shake the thought away. There's no way of knowing until the death recap. I remind myself. I sigh, nibbling at a piece of fruit I found just beyond the clearing I've set myself up in. The rest of my supplies are hidden among the shrubbery, my water bottles iodizing among my other scores. A bag of dried fruit, ten matches which I must save as long as possible, a small vial of dark purple liquid, a liquid which smells suspiciously like nightlock juice, and a metal cylinder, one whose use I've yet to discover. Not a lot to share among two people, but this fruit isn't poisonous and the iodine should last at least two weeks.

I'm shaken from my musings as I hear the national anthem play over the Arena. Quickly, I stand, scaling a tall tree that I had determined would give me the best view. As fast as humanly possible, I make it to the top, or as close to the top as I dare.

The seal of Panem fades, showing the first face of the night. I'm surprised to see the girl from Seven, the one whose pranks and jokes the Capitol loved so much. If she didn't die today, I suspect she would have made it far.

Next is the girl from Eight, who I remember was running from Mason after the gong. I guess she must have been caught.

Another surprise is the girl from Nine, another one everyone was rooting for.

I give a small sob as Thorn's face appears, one last time before he's gone forever. Tears fill my eyes, streaming down my face like acid. My ally. My only friend in this new, terrifying world. He was so much stronger than me, so much braver. I should have discouraged him from running in.

I can't help but cry harder when I see Keola, and I know that I'm now a murderer. It's my fault. All my fault.

I climb back down, knowing that I've seen all I need to see. There are only three people after the Twelve girl, and only three cannons unaccounted for. Twelve and Thirteen never make it far, though I was at least hoping this year could be different.

As the last strains of the anthem fade out, my sobs suddenly seem louder. The sudden stillness of the night, however, makes me more tired than I probably should be after that ordeal. I cast one last thought toward my friend before I fall asleep, silently preparing for another terror-filled day.


26th Place: Sparky Montgomery, District 13 Male, Age 12

Took a knife to the throat courtesy of Cassia Maurise, District 2 Female

Time in Arena: 27 seconds

Sparky was the tribute I never expected to receive. Every Games has their established crazy, and Sparky, on the outside, seemed to fit that. But he was so much more. He was intelligent. Complex. He didn't give a crap about what others thought of him and I loved him for it. Thanks Rina for an amazing Bloodbath tribute, I hope I wrote him well.

25th Place: Kenzi Williams, District 7 Female, Age 16

Nearly beheaded by Marcus Caelum, District 1 Male

Time in Arena: 1 minute 24 seconds

Kenzi was a fun tribute that I was unsure about. Her prankster ways seemed to be a bit much to me and thus I honestly began to dislike her. I know that my readers liked her, but she just wasn't… clicking for me, you know? And so, this girl, who pied her escort (like mad) and even Julius Incandes himself, finds herself in 25th place. Thanks Jay for accepting my decision to take her out.

24th Place: Tulle Salane, District 8 Female, Age 15

Neck snapped by Mason Lepodolite, District 2 Male

Time in Arena: 2 minutes 6 seconds

When I read Tulle's form, I fell in love. Honestly, I thought that she could potentially be my Victor. You can even ask Misty, I told her I cried a little when I saw she was a Bloodbath. I'm not sure what it was, but she stood out to me, and I just… I don't know. I wanted her death to be quick, so I got Mason angry enough to kill her right after the gong. Thanks Misty for Tulle.

23rd Place: Thorn Ashburry, District 11 Male, Age 13

Received a knife to the throat thanks to Cassia Maurise, District 2 Female

Time in Arena: 2 minutes 12 seconds

Ansley, man! When you sent in Thorn, I knew I had to have him in the Games. I had teased around a bit with him taking down a Career late in the Game before being impaled on a dozen knives and a sword in the beginning, but… I didn't know if you were even reading, dude! I haven't heard from you since back in District One, and I just… Yeah, he fell.

22nd Place: Harvest Miller, District 9 Female, Age 14

Shoved into flowing lava by Darius Line, District 5 Male

Time in Arena: 3 minutes 7 seconds

I think we all knew Harvest was never going to win. Nobody liked her all that much, which is understandable knowing her relations to a Victor. It's overused, and I'm guilty of using that storyline with another of my tributes. She died at Darius' hand so that I might be able to expand on him a little bit. I hope Wheat didn't lose his little sister for nothing.

21st Place: Keola Foeba, District 12 Female, Age 13

Thrown off a mountain by Mason Lepodolite, District 2 Male

Time in Arena: 3 minutes 23 seconds

Keola was another victim of reviews. Keola, to me, was a rather weak character, she just didn't stand out to me. She was sweet, really, and I would have loved to mess a little with her health issues a little bit more before she had gone, but I never heard from her submitter. I'm sorry, Keola, but Volunteering wasn't all that brilliant on your part, even for a friend's sake. Thanks for Keola, Superepicstarkette.

20th Place: Rebelle Rine, District 13 Female, Age 13

Impaled on her own trident thanks to Esmeralda Dawn, District 4 Female

Time in Arena: 13 minutes

Rebelle was a tribute restricted by the nature of this Quell. Originally created to be older, if I remember correctly, she was here to conquer the world. Her relationship with a Victor was interesting, and I wonder how Crysta's District feels about their Victor rooting for another District… if they even know. Storm, Rebelle was a fine tribute, but she's just too young for this.

19th Place: Soot Maloy, District 12 Male, Age 13

Tortured to death by Esmeralda Dawn, District 4 Female

Time in Arena: 44 minutes, 34 seconds

Rysel, Soot's death is one that is going to haunt me. He wasn't originally going to die like this; it was going to be quick, like a tomahawk to the skull or something. But Mera knows how to please people, and she knows the Capitol would frown upon a quick, clean betrayal of an ally. Soot was a fun tribute to write, and I'm sad to see him go so soon.

dreams and desperation: 212 (Cassia Lyra Maurise, District Two Female)

The Fangirl in Pink Jeans: 87 (Infiniti Reagan, District Three Female)

caitiebug007: 93 (Devon Cynthia Rose, District Five Female)

roses burning: 109 (Devon Cynthia Rose, District Five Female)

The First Adventuress: 190 (Aran Quade, District Six Male)

JaymanRepublic: 103 (Logan Woodson, District Seven Male)

Clis2339: 137 (Henry Reynoso, District Eight Male)

Wolfie McCoy: 67 (Thanatos Rize, District Nine Male)

Mystical Pine Forest: 174 (Cheyenne Bruno, District Ten Female)

Jaybird8101: 130 (Rebelle Sunflower Rine, District Thirteen Female)

Alliances!

Careers (212 points): Marcus (1), Malaya (1), Mason (2), Cassia (2) (212, dreams and desperation), and Esmeralda (4).

Brains and Brawn (137 points): Blue (4), and Henry (8) (137, Clis2339).

Sacrificial Lambs (174 points): Denny (10), and Cheyenne (10) (174, Mystical Pine Forest).

Maybe Alliance!

Malaran (Araya?) (190 points): Malaya (1), Aran (6) (190, The First Adventuress)

Loners!

Infiniti (3) (80) (80, The Fangirl in Pink Jeans)

Cordin (3)

Devon (5) (202) (93, catiebug007) (109, roses burning)

Darius (5)

Jetta (6)

Aran (6) (190) (190, The First Adventuress)

Logan (7) (103) (103, JaymanRepublic)

Thanatos (9) (67) (67, Wolfie McCoy)

Willow (11)

Questions!

Thoughts on my eulogies?

Sad to see someone go?

Surprised to see someone go?

Predictions on the future?

What was in Logan's vial?

How long do you think the Game will last?