Yeah, so yesterday was super busy for me; my family was in town for a race, I hiked a mountain, and other things. But we're almost to the end, and I desperately need to finish this if only to prove to myself that I can. So I'll always come back.

Thanks dreams and roses for the reviews.

Chapter One of Ladies First is slated to be released next, though I may push it back another day. I really want to finish this story by the 12th, and I only have seven chapters to go.


Aran Quade, Age 17, District 6

District Six Male, Sixth Quarter Quell


Henry is remarkably quiet, considering yesterday. He seemed so sure, so outgoing, but today it's like he's turned that off. Even in training, he seemed so much brighter and generally joyful. The Games have changed him.

I don't ask him about it, just as he hasn't mentioned anything about the cataclysm two days ago. There are some things you just don't talk about. I'm sure I'll talk about it with Kiara; she won the Games herself, after all. She'd know what to say.

We've continued to follow the path of the river today, looking for a safe place to collect water. Henry doesn't seem to think it likely; something about the cenote, where the water originated, being destroyed. He suspects that, if we were to test the water now, we'd reel from the saltiness. I've refused to give up, however, mush to his chagrin. He doesn't complain, but I can tell by the hard look in his eyes that he thinks we're wasting time.

"What would you rather be doing right now?" I ask, calling over my shoulder toward the Eight boy. I hear him grunt faintly, and I turn back to look at him. He catches up to me, barely sparing me a glace before continuing on.

"I'd be in the hospital back in Eight." He says. "Assisting my grandmother in some life-saving operation. She's remarkable, you know. Nobody has ever lost their life in her care. She's taught me so much in this life, and I hope to continue my training after I get home." He stoops over the riverbank, staring down at the swirling ash. "It's getting worse, Aran."

I notice the abundance of the grey-white ash spinning lazily in the soft current. "Yes, I suppose it is." I say. "What do you propose we do?"

"We can't waste our energy. We have very little water left, and we won't last long after it's gone. If worse comes to worst, we may just have to outlast the others." He looks up at me, and I take a step back. Henry is my Ally, sure, but he'd kill me if the need arose.

"I suppose I'll have to take the advice of a doctor's grandson." I say, smiling slightly. He frowns, turning away. He stands slowly before turning around and walking toward the trees. He finds a comfortable place to sit, and I follow his example, facing him from where I lean against a mangrove.

"What about you?" He asks after a moment. He's watching me carefully, and I wonder how I ever managed to sleep so well last night.

"What… about me?"

"What would you be doing right now, if you could?" He cocks his head. "Or are you the only one allowed to try and take people off-guard?"

I laugh softly, gently closing my eyes. I'd be ripping out the Careers' throats. I think, watching the inside of my eyelids. "I'd be telling my sister a story." I say. "Some ridiculous story of faraway lands. She'd love that."

His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "That sounds nice. I'm the youngest in my family. The only children I've ever cared for were the ones in the waiting room."

I don't know how to respond to that.


Devon Cynthia Rose, Age 17, District 5

District Five Female, Sixth Quarter Quell


Another flash of pain has me flinching as it radiates out of my stomach. I stop to steady myself against a tree, staring at the ground as it spins wildly around me. I want to vomit, something to get my mind off this nightmare, but I have nothing left. I hurled the last of my stomach's contents hours ago.

I decide that I can take a break, curling into a ball beside the mangrove. I hold my knees to my chest, trying to stay as still as possible. The flash dissipates after an eternity, and I have the strength to get up.

They're getting longer. I think miserably. It's getting worse.

I can't cry. I can't scream. I can't moan or plead or whisper. The rawness in my throat has reached a crescendo, topped only by the spasms of my abdomen. What is going on?

Since I miraculously survived the tidal wave, I've been on the move. That is, as much as I've been able to. I don't know what I'm looking for, but the Gamemakers and the Capitol should think I have some kind of purpose. Hopefully, other tributes will be less interesting, and I can live another day.

A twig snaps in the jungle ahead of me, and I freeze. I reach for my vest, pulling out a long dagger. It could be nothing. Or it could be something.

I slip through the trees, trying to pinpoint where the sounds of footsteps are. My head swivels back and forth, but there's no movement. Must not have been anything.

"My, my, Devon Rose. What a lovely young flower you are, my dear."

I whirl around at the voice, swinging my blade with all my might. It digs itself deep into my attacker's neck, and he blinks. "So… beautiful." He chokes.

Darius Thunder collapses to the jungle floor, blood spewing from his neck and dribbling out of his mouth. I drop the knife in horror. Suddenly I'm fourteen again, meeting the Head Peacekeeper for the first time. He was kind and charming, before the threats and the abuse revealed his true colors.

"Devon… what's this?" Darius Line, my District Partner, stands over the fallen Peacekeeper.

He looks at me, angry and frustrated. I stare at him, shocked. "But, you're dead!" I move my mouth, but no words come out.

"Were you always going to leave me to die, Devon? Like you killed him?" He seems hurt for a moment, before his face turns purple with rage. "He was mine! I was going to win and kill him! You took everything from me, Devon Rose!" He leaps over the corpse, hands raised as if to strangle me. Another knife is in my fist, and I plunge it into his chest. I collapse to the ground.

I push the body off of me, staring down in disbelief. But… It was Darius! He attacked me! He-

Jasper Blue stares sightlessly from where I buried a blade in his eye.

I look up, and Henry Reynoso is standing there. He's covered in blood, and he stares at me in horror. "You… you killed him!" He cries. "He was protecting me, and you killed him! You monster!" He rushes me, and I can't move. My body simply won't respond as the boy from Eight charges me. He drives his shoulder into my gut and I land hard on my back. He stands over me, eyes glowing red.

His fist hits my nose, and I taste blood. He hits me again and again, screaming. "You killed him! You killed him! You KILLED him! Youkilledhimyoukilledhimyoukilledhimyoukilledhim!"

"I killed you, Devon Rose."

Everything fades away suddenly, blinding white filling my vision.

"Mommy?" I whirl around.

"Ori?" My sweet toddler stands behind me, holding his favorite stuffed bear.

"Mommy!" He holds out his arms, looking for a hug.

I run toward him, but instead I'm floating. Away from him. Away from my boy.

"Mommy!" He cries.

"I love you! Mommy loves you, baby!"

Black.


Cheyenne Bruno, Age 13, District 10

District Ten Female, Sixth Quarter Quell


What to do what to do what to do.

Think, Cheyenne. Think.

The Games are coming to a close, and I am likely the last person who could possibly win at this point. So I need a plan. I need something.

What are my assets? Very little of anything. What do I have going for me? I'm fast, but that will be hindered if I come into contact with the Careers. Cassia throws knives, Mera has longer legs to help her get close, and I'm sure Aran has something up his sleeve. Even Henry and Devon must have something going for them. But me? What do I have that they don't?

Most, if not all of them, will have had a difficult time being isolated, something I've become unfortunately proficient at. But loneliness shouldn't matter too much in the endgame, unless the Gamemakers expect the six of us to straight up free-for-all duel to the death for the finale. If that were the case, however, they'd have done it already.

Boom

Okay, scratch that. The five of us. Maybe they were waiting for that person to die.

I brace myself, looking around for a threat. The movement pulls at my side, and I cry out softly. If I have to live the rest of my life in this pain, I'm going to sure my doctor until he's living on the streets.

Assuming I get out of this hole. Everything comes back to the Games: the thought of going home, of actual social interaction, even those stupid birds singing above. I can't escape the awful truth of my situation, even for a moment. It's infuriating.

Sighing, I sling my bag off my shoulder for what feels like the hundredth time in the past ten minutes. The only thing of any use to help me survive is the metal canister that Infiniti explained to me. Some kind of explosive with a pressure trigger. Surely, I could rig this to blow a couple tributes sky-high? Then again, that wouldn't help me take care of the ones that survive. What am I going to do if I light up Cassia but Mera sticks her sword in my neck moments later? It would be pointless.

No, I'd need all the others together in order for that to work, which makes the plan worst-case-scenario. I need something real and concrete.

There's no concrete in this Arena, Cheyenne.

Shut up.


Cassia Lyra Maurise, Age 18, District 2

District Two Female, Sixth Quarter Quell


I've crossed perhaps half the Arena today in search of tributes. I don't see hide nor hair though, and it's taken me the better half of the day. The Arena's been decimated; where could they be hiding?

The steady BOOM of a cannon is the only reply, and I listen as the sound reverberates through the Arena. I stare up at the sky, knives held in either hand.

I can almost hear Moara's voice, faint and hesitant.

Four to go, Cass.

There's a lot of disappointment in that voice too, but I don't care. Moara can be as condescending as she wants, but that won't change the fact that I'm winning these Games. If that cannon was Six or Four, then half the real competition is out. If it's any of the others, well… they were going to die anyway.

The sky is finally clearing. For the past two days, the smoke from the volcano has hung over the Arena like a curtain, keeping the Arena cool but unnaturally dark. Night has only been noted by the death recap, delivered by the satanic spider. Creepy little thing.

The sun is breaking through, and I wonder, not for the first time, if it's the real sun or not. Time seems to be the same, sure; I watched the Games all the time as a cadet at the Academy. The Games started at 1000 hours every year, the recaps appearing every night at 2200. The cycles were the same as back home, but that doesn't mean we live under the same star.

Not that I should care. All I need to know is that I've been in this Arena for fifteen days and I should have caught the last cremlin with my claws ages ago. I've combed through the Arena once already today, but I can comb them again. I will find my prey eventually, and they will beg for mercy.

Six kills will be my goal. Only four to go.


Esmeralda Annalise Dawn, Age 18, District 4

District Four Female, Sixth Quarter Quell


The pain racking my body has lessened somewhat, now that I'm not moving. Being on solid ground instead of a shifting jungle tree certainly changes things.

Halibut hasn't sent me any miracle medicine since the gift he sent yesterday, but I didn't expect him to. That was likely the last of his funds, and I wasted it all. I should have thought, but I was in so much pain that all I cared about was getting rid of it. And I downed the whole bottle.

If I were still with Cassia, that wouldn't have been a problem. As part of an Alliance, our Sponsorships would have been pooled together, any of the Career mentors being allowed to extract whatever amounts they wished from the pot. When I left, however, Cass and Mason inherited most of my shares in the pool, which then became Cassia's when Mason died. In all likelihood, she cannot be outmatched when it comes to Sponsors alone.

Aran from Six might have some, assuming that he and Malaya were actually working together the whole time. When she died, he would have taken her funds, whatever she managed to keep when she ditched us and whatever she had accumulated up until her death. The girl from Ten would have also accepted funds from her three deceased Allies, and Henry would have inherited Blue's. According to the idiot Business Trainers at the CTC, I am perhaps the least Sponsored tribute in the Games at the moment. And that's without accounting for my broken leg, something potentials cannot simply overlook.

I'm having a hard time coming to terms with my death. I know it's coming, but I'm simply not ready. I've worked so hard to get here, only for it all to go to waste. I've taken four lives during my time in the Arena, and it seems like they're all dragging me to my own grave.

Rebelle, with her own trident in her stomach. She was cocky, sure, but she was brave, and fought like a true warrior. She fought with honor, and if she had fought in the Games here in five years, she likely would have won.

Soot's death is, perhaps, the one I will most be judged upon in Hell. I made it gruesome, and the others cheered me on as he screamed. I did it for Sponsors. I did it for pleasure. But the Sponsor money is now Cassia's and I feel everything but pleasure right now.

Infiniti wanted to save her Ally, and she did it. She too fought honorably, and now Ten just might live to see another Games. She's resourceful, that one. Three should be proud of their female tribute.

Thanatos was, perhaps, the most worthy of them all. For a cremling from Nine, he fought like a storm. He was clearly self-trained, but he held himself with confidence. Whatever his story was, I hope his family mourns him.

Four under my belt, and four more before I could have gone home, according to the cannon earlier. I cannot imagine a death more fitting.


Henry Reynoso, Age 14, District 8

District Eight Male, Sixth Quarter Quell


The Horn of Plenty!

The Horn of Plenty overflows!

Panem shall reign above,

Panem shall raise above.

May our nation never fall,

Again.

The Horn of Plenty overflows!

District Five

Devon Rose

"I'm sorry." I whisper, staring up into the sky. It had cleared just enough for me to see Devon hanging over the Arena, a tribute to the tribute. I sense Aran moving in the darkness around our camp, though I don't look.

"What are you sorry for?" He asks.

I killed her. "I don't know, I guess." I say. "I've done that for every face in the sky since I saw Tulle up there. An apology for… surviving when they couldn't, I guess?" I lean back against my tree.

"I knew her." He says suddenly, and I internally groan. I don't want to talk about Devon Rose. "She was with Malaya and I for a time. She left when Malaya was attacked by the boy from Seven."

"The day he died?" I ask. Six says nothing. "She killed Blue the next day. I was with her until…" The cataclysm.

"I wonder what happened." He says. He doesn't sound accusing, just thoughtful. "Any ideas?"

Poison glands of a tree frog, lethal in four to seven days assuming victim rests, sooner if they are active. "Probably the Careers." I say. "Like you said, there are still two of them out there. Or maybe she sustained a head injury from the tidal wave, and it's just now caught up to her."

"I guess we won't know for a couple of days." Until one of us wins and goes home.

I shake my head. Almost there. "Couple of days." I echo.


Deaths!

6th Place: Devon Cynthia Rose, District Five Female

Poisoned by Henry Reynoso, District Eight Male

Time in Arena: 14 days 1 hour 11 minutes 52 seconds

I'm going to be honest. I really didn't like Devon at first. I'm unsure as to why; her story was unique, unexpected. Perhaps it was because I felt I wasn't capturing her the way she should have been. Maybe it was her family. But Devon has since become such a massive part of my universe, an example of the horror of the Games and the awful things they bring about. Her legacy will continue on through her friends and young child, and I suspect you'll see some of them in Ladies First. Thank you, roses, for a tribute I came to love. May she rest as she deserves.


Individual Placings!

26th: Sparky Montgomery, Age 12, District Thirteen Male

25th: Kenzi Williams, Age 16, District Seven Female

24th: Tulle Salane, Age 15, District Eight Female

23rd: Thorn Ashbury, Age 13, District Eleven Male

22nd: Keola Foeba, Age 13, District Twelve Female

21st: Harvest Miller, Age 14, District Nine Female

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

19th: Soot Maloy, Age 13, District Twelve Male

18th: Denny Rico, Age 14, District Ten Male

17th: Marcus Caelum, Age 17, District One Male

16th: Jetta Carter, Age 17, District Six Female

15th: Darius Line, Age 17, District Five Male

14th: Infiniti Reagan, Age 17, District Three Female

13th: Willow Orchids, Age 13, District Eleven Female

12th: Logan Woodson, Age 16, District Seven Male

11th: Jasper Blue, Age 16, District Four Male

10th: Thanatos Rize, Age 15, District Nine Male

9th: Cordin Bolt, Age 16, District Three Male

8th: Mason Lepodolite, Age 18, District Two Male

7th: Malaya Garnet, Age 17, District One Female

6th: Devon Cynthia Rose, Age 17, District Five Female


Kills!

Malaya Garnet: 1 (Logan Woodson, D7M)

Marcus Caelum: 1 (Kenzi Williams, D7F)

Cassia Lyra Maurise: 2 (Thorn Ashbury, D11M; Sparky Montgomery, D13M)

Mason Lepodolite: 5 (Malaya Garnet, D1F; Darius Line, D5M; Jetta Carter, D6F; Tulle Salane, D8F; Keola Foeba, D12F)

Esmeralda "Mera" Annalise Dawn: 4 (Infiniti Reagan, D3F; Thanatos Rize, D9M; Soot Maloy, D12M; Rebelle Sunflower Rine, D13F)

Devon Cynthia Rose: 1 (Jasper Blue, D4M)

Darius Line: 1 (Harvest Miller, D9F)

Aran Quade: 1 (Mason Lepodolite, D2M)

Henry Reynoso: 1 (Devon Rose, D5F)

Thanatos Rize: 1 (Willow Orchids, D11F)

Other: 3 (Marcus Caelum, D1M (Sepsis); Cordin Bolt, D3M (Hellhound); Denny Rico, D10M (Jaguar))


Alliances!

The Grief Team: Aran (6), Henry (8)


Loners!

Cassia (2)

Esmeralda (4)

Cheyenne (10)


Questions!

When I was first plotting the Games, there were some tributes that I never thought would make it this far, yet somehow they did. Who surprises you from the Final Five?

Only tributes from the even-numbered Districts remain. Except for Twelve. Do I have something against odd numbers?

Henry is, as of now, our youngest killer this year. Did you think he had it in him?

Who will die next?

Who will survive?


Death,

Z

This chapter depressed me.