Jurrien Lauda, District Three male (18)
They were nearby. I knew they were nearby. Not the Careers- I wouldn't have heard them coming, and most of them were dead. No, it was Romeo and the others. They were just as eager to kill people but far less skilled-except for Romeo, anyway. If they found me, it wouldn't be a clean death.
The Arena was perfect for hiding but terrible for running. The thick greenery obscured vision past a few feet, but the deep mud underfoot squelched around my feet and threatened to hold me in place if I stayed too long in one spot. I wasn't entirely confident there weren't quagmires hidden around- the Gamemakers just loved to watch someone panic as they were slowly sucked into the earth. Mud was already pushing against my calves as I crouched in some tall grass and tried to determine my pursuer's position. They knew I was here, just like I knew they were nearby. With all this mud, there was no avoiding footprints. If the Careers hadn't died, this would have been a very short Games.
If I got past just the first few days, I had a chance to win the Games. I was among the most educated of the Tributes. That didn't mean I was smarter, necessarily- a lot of academic achievement came from involved parents or wealth- but it did mean I knew some things. I had some grasp of what to look for in waterborne illnesses, for example, or how to purify water or conserve body heat. I remembered learning about poisonous plants in one biology class and how they tended to have certain colored fruit. If I could only remember which colors...
I froze at the sound of disturbed vegetation. It told me where someone was, sure, but it also told me an intended killer was very, very close. I scanned my surroundings as I weighed my options. Anjou and Romeo probably couldn't climb, though Dahlia could. I could try to scurry up a tree, hoping desperation would give me an edge, and then run along the closely-packed trees to get some distance. I could run deeper into the forest, praying I wasn't running directly toward another ally. To my left, there was the river. It was foul and opaque. I had the feeling that if I went under the surface, none of them would come after me. Then I just had to fend off any snakes, crocodiles, or beasts waiting for people just like me.
"Found him!"
Time to make choice, then. My brain flashed through some scenarios and I chose the river. I launched forward, almost losing my shoes in the mud, and sprinted for the water. It was Dahlia who had spotted me, and to my relief, I was faster than she was. I reached the edge of the riverbank a few paces ahead of her, just as Romeo burst out of the foliage to the side of me. I bolted into the shallows just as Anjou's footsteps approached behind us.
Amaranth Harvey, District Nine female (12)
I didn't like how close the dead body was to me. It was just thirty or so feet up the river, seemingly caught by the weeds entwined in its hair, since it was only slowly drifting towards me. They usually came and got the bodies, I thought. Maybe they'd overlooked this one, as mud-covered as it was, or more likely they were messing with us. I would have moved, but over the past few hours I'd heard someone in the trees near me. Better a dead body than a live one.
A human form burst out of the plants edging the riverbank. My hands flew to my mouth as I sobbed and cringed back against the divot in the riverbank I was hiding in. I recognized Jurrien as he reached the river and vaulted into the shallows. Dahlia was directly behind him, and then Romeo followed. They hadn't been hunting me, then. They probably didn't know I was here. Unless they were planning to get me next...
Jurrien splashed into the shallows just upstream from me. He waded toward the deeper water as I huddled further into my hidey-hole. As Jurrien ran past the floating body, there was a noise like a bursting water balloon. The body's head came loose and slid forward, pulling with it a mass of dark. Everyone, both Jurrien and his attackers, was screaming as I sat frigid with terror. Like tentacles, the intestines flailed and writhed, roiling the water. They snared Jurrien's leg and I sat whimpering as the head climbed itself up his torso and wrapped around his face. Dahlia and the others fled. I ran after them, not even caring if they saw. I wasn't going to cross the river to get away from them. Not the river, not with its drifting bodies.
Jurrien Lauda, District Three male (18)
It wasn't a body. It wasn't a corpse the Gamemakers reanimated. The worst thing about the demon ripping at my face with its teeth was that it was alive. The dark eyes inches from my own burned with inner light. This was not a moving corpse. This was a thing with a human face. My mind had always been my greatest weapon, but it vanished in the face of that thing. I couldn't think at all. There was nothing in my mind but horror.
Amaranth Harvey, District Nine female (12)
I stumbled, falling face-first into dirt. The ground had grown dryer at some point, though I'd been too panicked to realize it. I lay there sobbing for a moment, treasuring the dryness of the ground. It meant I was far away from the river. I'd diverted away from Dahlia and the others soon after I started running. They were all still screaming, so I didn't think they heard me escaping.
My breathing slowly leveled out as I lay curled on the ground. I mewled, curling in tightly on myself, when I remembered something. The body had been drifting diagonally. Bodies don't drift perpendicular to a current. It had been coming for me.
Lukewarm dirt pressed against my cheek. I looked up and slowly started to rise. I couldn't stay down, reliving what what had happened. I was in the Hunger Games and if I didn't stay alert, I would die. If the monster didn't get me, the Tributes would. I took a deep, shaky breath, calling to mind the things I'd seen. No one would go near something like that, the idea came to me. Not me, and not Dahlia and the others. I crouched and plucked a handful of stringy grass. I wet it down in a puddle and started braiding it into my hair.
17th place: Jurrien Lauda- killed by a Ma Lai
If there's anything tropical eastern countries love, it's stories about ladies whose heads come off and they fly around with dangling intestines. Weird flex, but it gives me this cool monster to use. Jurrien, like every Tribute here, had really cool potential for development. I started this chapter knowing I had to kill someone eventually, but I literally couldn't find anyone I could easily kill so early. I ended up picking Jurrien because he has such terrible luck it seemed consistent that he'd be the one to get screwed by a mutt. Thanks PoC for submitting something of a genius underachiever, something I haven't seen much in SYOTs. Honestly he deserved better but I just had to kill someone.