Chapter 60: James Silva

A/N: District Seven are finally back after a short while, and they have yet another Victor in James! At first glance, he doesn't seem to possess many Victor qualities, but will that deter him from winning? Absolutely not and in fact, he's got more in the tank than one could give him credit for...

P.S. James Silva is based on my good friend James, aka the garden on ffn. He requested a chapter with him as a Victor and basically did all the rough work and outline of the chapter, so thanks James, and here's your chapter! :)

Katniss frowned, trying to place James, but she found it rather hard to remember him. "Do you remember anything? I was sick for half of this year's Games."

"He wasn't a very strong tribute," Peeta recalled. "Didn't exactly stand out in the pre-Games. He seemed so nice." A cloud seemed to loom over his face. "And then something happened, and he kind of changed."

Katniss raised an eyebrow. "Changed? What do you mean, changed?"

"He killed the remaining two tributes in the finale, and it wasn't exactly pretty," Peeta told her, a grim look on his face.

"Did he turn out an alcoholic after the Games?" Katniss wondered. "Because he sure doesn't look very traumatised." She gestured at the picture of James.

Peeta shook his head. "He handled it quite well after that. I think Gwen helped him out or something. But still, he did pretty well considering the odds were stacked against him."

"So did Audi, Gwen and John," Katniss reminded him. "Turns out the underdogs can come out on top too."

Peeta chuckled softly. "Yeah, I guess so."

James Silva

District 7

Aged 15

3 Kills

James Silva, D7M:

"I wonder if we'll find that puffin today," Ellen murmured as she and James trekked through the lush, green woods on their way to Blight's Shore, a stretch of rocky coastline near their village that they often frequented. The journey took about an hour and a half each way, and along the way, they would pass through dense forestry that was typical of District Seven. Usually, James's older brother Tommy would tag along, but ever since the death of their mother Lacey last year, he was forced to work in the lumber mills with their other mother Siren. They spent the vast majority of their days there, working hard to earn a living for their family, so James hardly ever saw them, and he never really got to know either Siren or Lacey. He himself wound down the clock with his best friend Ellen McGinn, a girl from his class at school who he had known ever since they were six years old. She had shoulder-length, curly cinnamon brown hair and ad a dark complexion. She was rather pretty, but James never felt any attraction towards her. After all, she was like a sister to him, there was no need to potentially harm their rock-solid friendship with the introduction of something as fickle as romance. Ellen was an avid drawer, a girl who strived to create a beautiful array of art. One of her most beloved creations, a portrait of James, was always tucked safely in James's pocket, acting as his good-luck charm in tough scenarios. Ellen often managed to swipe a couple of old Capitolite magazines from the local Peacekeeping force and would jump right to the art section, where the art of Marie Meredith was often displayed. In a way, Marie reminded James of Ellen, the pre-Games version of Marie, of course, not the manipulative trickster that cruelly betrayed all her allies in the arena. But the Marie he saw in the build-up to the Games, the sweet, somewhat shy girl with a love of drawing, now that was reminiscent of Ellen. Ellen loved Marie's artwork and she would often chatter about how she hoped that her art would be displayed in the Capitolite magazines just like Marie's art. James would love to see that wish fulfilled one day, but even he knew that it was a futile hope, a lost vision that would never turn into reality. Still, she dared to dream with her eyes wide open and regularly tried to get her art published, only for the Peacekeepers to shove her away.

And yet, she would never in a million years give up.

That day, the pair were out to spot a bird that had been so rarely spotted in Panem: the fabled horned puffin. There were no known drawings of such puffins n District Seven, and the only people in the District who had seen these recherché birds, ones that were so highly sought after by Capitolite hunters for their uniqueness, but none had ever succeeded in catching one. The people of their village sometimes spotted them, but they only showed up in small groups and in very specific timings that coincided with the busiest weeks of the year, thus sightings were rare. However, that certainly didn't deter Ellen from hoping to catch a glimpse of a puffin, in order to be able to draw it out.

"I heard that it has this weird-looking beak," Ellen told him as the descended down a small hill. "It's kinda yellowish, but that old guitarist Mahogany says that it's got a bit of red too."

James nodded along, having absolutely no clue about how a puffin looked like. He loved nature just as much as Ellen did, after all, he wasn't known for being a plant expert for nothing, but his younger sister Magnolia claimed that her teacher had a sighting with one and described it as a 'ferocious beast with wild, blue feathers'. That description hadn't exactly left him with a warm, cosy feeling as they set out in search of this mysterious bird. But nonetheless, Ellen had her heart set on finding that bird, and James, being her best friend, decided that he should tag along.

Shaddock Coulibaly, D11M:

Shaddock wiped the sweat off his eyebrows as he straightened his back, flashing his best friend, Audrey, a wide grin. They had finally reached the top of Bloom Hill, a relatively tall hill near Town 9 that was said to be the burial site of ancient kings and queens, as well as a place where hidden treasures with unprecedented value glistened underneath the surface. Of course, most of these were just local rumours and besides, no one was ever allowed to dig into this hill.

But Shaddock knew that there was more to this hill than what met the eye.

A week ago, when he and Audrey had first gone up this hill in the shadow of the golden sunset on the horizon, he had tripped on something. A second look had revealed a tiny, dusty fragment of a crystal shard. As far as Shaddock was concerned, no one in Town 9 owned any crystals, so what on earth was this little beauty doing on Bloom Hill? Days later, the crystal was sold for a fair price at the local black market, Apollo's Lair. The money was more than enough to feed both Shaddock and Audrey's families for at least two weeks, something Shaddock was overjoyed about.

But there was something else on his mind that day, as they returned to this seemingly barren hill, one that had a crumbling old wagon resting beside an old tree at its peak.

The legends, the stories uttered from the lips of his grandmother, about the treasure hidden beneath the dark soil, could they possibly be true? After all, there had to be more than just that one fragment of a crystal shard, right?

"So, Shaddock," Audrey said as they reached the top of the hill. She stretched her arms and sat down on the ground, keeping an intrigued gaze on the ground beneath her, her golden eyes shining with a glow of euphoric curiosity. Her fingers twirled around her periwinkle dress and she turned her head towards him. "How are we gonna find this treasure? We can't dig."

Shaddock chuckled, strutting towards her with big, confident strides, before plopping down next to her. "Ah, you see, the Peacekeepers said that humans weren't allowed to dig here, but they never said anything about animals."

He put his fingers to his lips and whistled sharply. A moment passed and nothing seemed to happen. Audrey raised a sceptical eyebrow, crossing her arms. Then, an array of loud barking emerged from the distance, and soon, a Jack Russell Terrier, donning a furry coat of brown and white, bounded up the hill, eagerly wagging its tail as it ran towards Shaddock. Audrey's widened. "You got a dog to dig up the stuff?"

Shaddock nodded, a smug look plastered on his face as the Jack Russell Terrier began to pounce upon the dirt beneath the hill, digging through brown earth and soil in a ruthless effort to find treasure. "Yep. Genius, huh?"

"We're gonna get into so much trouble for this," Audrey murmured, a concerned cloud passing over her eyes as she spoke.

Shaddock rolled his eyes. "Oh stop worrying so much, Audrey. Just have fun!"

James Silva, Tribute Parade:

These tree costumes were absolutely ridiculous, in James's opinion. He stared down at his parade costume, nothing more than a cheap, cardboard costume that had been painted pecan brown, with branches that had green, origami leaves taped onto them.

It was simply horrendous.

James would rather be searching for a wild creature, like a puffin, for instance, which in fact was nowhere near as frightening as Magnolia had claimed it to be, than stand there, in his humiliating disgrace of a costume, the creation of which should be a federal offence. His District partner wasn't too pleased either. Alameda Hendricks, a sixteen-year-old lumber yard worker who, despite being much shorter than James, was a lot stronger, with more muscles and actual mastery in axe-wielding. She glowered down at her costume, and muttered about tearing it off as a show of protest against their stylists. "We can toss these absolute fashion farces straight at Snow!" she declared, tossing her tribute token, a small ball, into the air before catching it again effortlessly.

James was all for protesting against his stylist, but he was barely wearing anything underneath his tree costume. As much as he deeply resented it, he didn't want to go out there in front of all of Panem in nothing but his underwear. And by the look in Alameda's eye, he could tell she wasn't too keen on that idea either, and quickly murmured, "Never mind," before trudging towards their chariot, shooting furious glares at anyone who dared to stare at them. James followed her lead, his eyes fixed on his green, leafy shoes, another huge fashion disaster, by the way, as he tried to avoid the gaze of the other tributes. He could faintly hear the snickers of the pair from Two, no doubt directed at him.

Just ignore them, he told himself, gritting his teeth as they neared their chariot. Just ignore them, like Ellen told you to.

Ellen. His best friend, who was anxiously waiting for him back home. The name resounded and echoed through his head, filling him with an air of determination. That air was quickly sapped away when he tripped on a loose pebble on the ground. Falling to his knees with a painful thud, he bit his lip as the girl from One burst into peals of laughter, shooting him a wicked smirk. Ahead of him, Alameda flashed him a pitiful look, shaking her head sadly. James sighed, his heart shattering like broken glass. Oh, why oh why did he of all people have to be Reaped? He wouldn't, no, couldn't, kill anyone. Not a chance. He was aiming for a pacifist victory, but even he could tell that this was frankly impossible.

Something brushed against his shoulder. He looked up, the look of a lost puppy in his eyes, and saw the outstretched hand of the boy from Eleven, who looked down at him with bright, gleaming eyes. "You good mate?" the boy asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," James replied, taking his hand and pulling himself to his feet. "Thanks, uhm, Shaddock, right?"

Shaddock chuckled nervously. "Glad you remembered my name. Yours is James, correct?" James nodded. Shaddock smiled. "Well, James, Fiona, Luis and I want an alliance with you and Alameda, if that's fine with both of you."

James frowned. The name Fiona clicked into his head, it belonging to Shaddock's young District partner. However, he couldn't quite place Luis. "Who's Luis?"

"The boy from Ten," Shaddock replied, gesturing towards a boy dressed in a cowboy suit, who gave him a friendly wave, one James did not return. "He and I made a deal just a while ago. How about you, Jame? You in?"

James didn't hesitate. If he ever stood even a sliver of a chance at winning, he needed allies. Here was an alliance, being presented before him in broad daylight, one that contained tributes that seemed pretty trustable. He absolutely had to accept Shaddock's offer. He nodded, flashing Shaddock a contented smile. "Yeah, I'm in."

Shaddock grinned, his bright white teeth glinting in the bright headlights above them. "Awesome! Now then, I'll go ask your District partner over there if she wants in too. I'm telling ya, one of us is taking home the crown!"

He said it with such great confidence, James wished that he too could believe.

Alas, one look at the six Careers, all of whom were colossal hunks of muscle who simply radiated with power, and James's brief moment of confidence was once again dashed.

James got off his chariot, a scowl on his face, or at least, as much of a scowl as he could muster. He no doubt still looked somewhat happy, such was his resting happy face, but hey, at least his hatred towards his costume showed. He pushed past the crowd of tributes, making a desperate beeline for the elevator to his floor, where he would instantly rip off his costume and dump it into the nearest garbage chute. He passed by Shaddock, who waved at him, that rather infectious grin still plastered on his face. Of course he did, his outfit as a decent farmer's overalls and a straw hat, nowhere near as humiliating as James's costume.

He sighed, a dejected shake of his head summing up the whole evening for him. There were no shouts, no chants, no flowers thrown for District Seven. Meanwhile, Districts One through Six had received loud, thunderous applause, along with fanatic cheering and a plethora of bright red roses and fresh carnations.

It just wasn't fair.

Just then, he heard a loud scream. Tilting his head from the ground, he saw the girl from District Three, a ghastly, horrified look upon her pale face, which was whiter than snow, facing the elevator, her hands covering her mouth in a fit of shock.

"What the heck?" James murmured.

The crowd of tributes, stylists, mentors, escorts and paparazzi all surged forward, desperate to get a good look at what was inside the elevator. James moved with the crowd, a look of intrigue splashed onto his face. He caught a glimpse of Fiona ahead of him, his ally reaching the District Three girl's side, before beginning to let out a cry of fright, staggering backwards and recoiling in horror at what lay before her.

But what was it?

Soon, there were more and more screams, cries, shouts, wails, panicked yelps. Pandemonium soon erupted and James had to fight hard to get even remotely close to the elevators. Peacekeepers rushed forward, trying to, for once, keep the peace like they were supposed to. James pushed past a final hurdle, the tall escort from District Ten, and then he saw it.

James's jaw dropped to his chest. He staggered backwards, bumping into a frustrated Alameda, whose face turned pale in a heartbeat at the sight before them. A soft, choked sound spluttered from his lips as his knuckles turned bleach white.

The dead body of Jill Wilson lay slumped in the elevator, her face nightlock purple, her body covered in green pus, her chest a bloody mess of gore and deathly red, her eyes missing from their empty, barren sockets, her toes an icy shade of blue, the life of arguably the greatest musician in all of Panem, gone. Right above her lifeless corpse, there was a message, written in thick, red blood, blood that was still freshly dripping onto Jill's hair, which was stained crimson red.

FREEDOM HAS A PRICE.

Shaddock Coulibaly, Training Day 2:

The death of Jill Wilson still resonated through the Tribute Centre, and Shaddock himself hadn't come out unfazed at the end of the day.

There was a murderer on the loose.

Although, to be fair, the odds of him being murdered in the next few days were sky high.

Nope, Shaddock told himself. Can't think like that, this is just another adventure. That's all it is. Audrey's waiting for me back home, and when I do go home, she'll be the happiest girl in the world.

Shaddock had no intention of ending up as dead as Jill, he was here to win, no more, no less. And despite the fact that Jill's death had rattled him, he wasn't as affected as the others.

After all, I've seen death before.

Shaddock whistled a happy tune in a bid to calm his nerves as he strolled to the Training Centre for his second day of training. Half the tributes were still shell-shocked, terrified, spooked, by all that had happened. Just two nights before, Shaddock had to sit by Fiona's side because of all those horrendous nightmares she had been having. And it wasn't much better for Alameda and James. Alameda had known Jill, having attended her music school in District Seven back when she was a toddler. They seemed unfocused, trapped in their own worlds during their first day in training.

Loss was a hard thing to swallow.

His mentor, Chaff, had seemed particularly furious about Jill's death. "I know who it was," he would mutter as he stabbed his slice of fish with his fork. In the elevator, he had come across Olive, who, much unlike the bubbly, witty, cheerful persona she had put up in the past, looked a dark, gloomy shadow of wh she was, glowering straight at him throughout the whole, extremely uncomfortable ride.

"I'm gonna rip that scoundrel to shreds," she hissed underneath her breath, her fingers trembling with a raging, barely controllable fire of fury. "I'm gonna..."

Beside her, Birch had put a hand on her shoulder. "Olive," he implored.

Olive took a deep breath, and silenced herself for the rest of the ride, but the tension still hung in the air, and Shaddock was more than grateful when they had finally reached the Training Centre. He quickly joined the rest of his rather big alliance, all of whom had already gathered there, donning mixed expressions on their faces. James looked less glum, and actually smiled at him when he approached, but Alameda still refused to speak, and instead marched straight for the axe-throwing station, her hands jammed firmly in her pockets, tears still brimming in her dark brown eyes as she brushed past the terrified girl from Three. Fiona and Luis went to the first aid station together, Luis wrapping a protective arm around Fiona, the latter still unable to speak without stammering, her head still shrouded with trauma. Shaddock wished he could help her, but he was never one for a pep talk. Luis was an orphanage teacher, a young one, sure, but one who had experience dealing with scared children like Fiona, so pairing those two up had been an easy decision for the gang. James and Shaddock, meanwhile, headed for the edible plants station, as per James's request. He seemed to relish in the familiarity of the plants there, chattering on and on about each and every plant and explaining their properties to Shaddock. Shaddock himself knew a fair bit about plants, but even he was amazed by James's incredible knowledge of them.

"This one's a spindle," James pointed out, picking up a bright pink berry from one of the trays at the station. Shaddock had never seen such a berry before, nor had he ever heard of a spindle before. The treasure hunter boy peered closer, taking a better look at the berry that rested in James's open palm. James smiled, rolling the spindle back and forth in his hand. "The fruit itself is poisonous, if you eat it, you could get kidney failure and you might die." He chuckled softly. "Ellen once nearly ate this when we were twelve. Luckily, I was there to stop her." Shaddock took a step backwards, away from the poisonous spindle. His eyes widened in alarm at the sight of this seemingly harmless and cheerful little fruit. James tossed the fruit into the air, then caught it again. "It can be used for medicinal purposes too. And this," he picked up another berry, one that resembled a raspberry, but had a lovely orangey-rose colour, although Shaddock was wary that eating this bright berry could send him straight into the dirt in a coffin faster than his Jack Russell Terrier. "Is a cloudberry. They're rather delicious. You should try it." He handed the cloudberry to Shaddock, who popped it into his mouth. The berry was very juicy, and tasted a little bit like a raspberry, with a tinge of floral sweetness that curdled in his mouth.

"It's not bad," he commented.

James nodded, the shock of seeing Jill die having seemingly faded for the moment, and then he hopped over to the next plant. "And this is a purple coneflower." They went on and on like that, with James excitedly discussing each and every plant and bug at the station, while Shaddock listened attentively, wanting to know which ones he could eat to survive his newfound mishap of an adventure. After a while, he excused himself to go to the bathroom. "I'll be at the tree-climbing station," James told him, before the pair parted ways. Shaddock sauntered over to the bathroom, whistling that same happy tune, his hands swaying by his side as he dreamt of all the treasure hunting adventures he could embark on after his victory. He turned a corner and entered the male bathroom, and then he stopped, and a glowing ball of horror erupted within him.

He let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Scipio MacAllister lay on the ground, blood splattered all over his ghastly white face, the skin rotting off his flesh, a broken glass lying on the floor next to him, a crushed olive in the midst of the shards. In black ink was a message on the bathroom walls.

I KNEW IT WAS YOU, BITCH.

James Silva, Night 1:

James shuddered as he lay against one of the large obelisks that dotted the arena, all of which were inscribed with cryptic writing that James couldn't decipher. He rummaged through his backpack, which contained a bottle of water, some matches and an empty jar, which he'd filled with nightlock berries after the Bloodbath.

The Bloodbath.

He couldn't exactly wrap his head around what had happened. It had all been such a quick blur, that James himself struggled to connect most of the dots.

But Fiona was dead.

He had seen the girl from District Two, who looked particularly after the death of her mentor Scipio, brutally slash her throat.

It wasn't a pretty sight.

Fiona was gone. The sweet, innocent girl from Eleven, gone. James had gotten to know her on the third day of training, and she had shared a couple of stories from home. They had laughed together, cried together after a particularly bad interview night, and slowly but surely, James had begun to feel a sense of attachment towards her. She was a nice person when you really got to know her, one who glowed brightly with a bedazzling spark of life.

And now that bright spark had been extinguished.

James hadn't seen the rest of his alliance after the Bloodbath, but as every cannon sounded, his hope of ever seeing them again began to diminish.

What am I doing? This is the Hunger Games, they have to die, don't they?

James couldn't bring himself to think that way, no, he just couldn't. But this was the Hunger Games, and yet, no.

James shook his head, burying it in his hands.

I don't want to see my friends dead.

Friends.

They had known each other for only a few days, and yet, he could refer to them as friends. They weren't his friends, were they? They were his enemies and yet, they were his friends too. The bonds they had shared over the course of training, after all the events and drama prior to it, they were simply just too strong.

The anthem began to play, and the moment that James had dreaded for the whole day finally became a reality as the face of the little girl from Three was projected into the night sky, before fading away, never to be seen again Instantly, James's mind flashed back to that fateful night when Jill's body had been discovered, the moment that had broken this intelligent, cunning girl, reducing her to a fit of sobs for much of her time in the Capitol.

If only things had gone differently.

James felt a pang of melancholy in his heart, but he forced himself to continue looking at the night sky, where the face of the boy from Three was being replaced by that of the boy from Five, a dejected look on the academically gifted boy's eyes as they stared out through his thick glasses, the broken remnants of which James had so nearly tripped over in the chaos of the Bloodbath.

He had so much potential, could've gone so far in life, what a horrific waste.

Next up was the pair from Six, neither of whom James had really paid much attention to in the pre-Games events.

And then she showed up.

James let out a shocked gasp and recoiled backwards, as if the ghost of the face in the night sky was slowly approaching him.

Alameda.

How, how had she died? She was a strong tribute, a good contender, a fierce, bold, headstrong person who had chalked up a score of seven in training. How had she gone down so early in the Games? Tears glistened in James's eyes as he thought of all their distressed Capitol nights, with Alameda struggling to get over the death of Jill, their mentor.

Maybe that had broken her too much.

James stared down at his hands, biting his lip so hard he nearly drew blood. She was gone, gone forever, and nothing James could do would bring her back. His heart was bludgeoned with grief, mourning, regret, pity, and everything in between.

Maybe if I'd been near her during the Bloodbath, I could have protected him, and she would still be alive.

But no, instead he had run away.

Like the coward that he was.

He didn't pay much attention to the next few faces: the pair from Eight and the girl from Ten. But when Luis's face showed up, he could feel wisps of his soul being drained away from him.

It was hopeless, all for nothing, their alliance. Nearly all of the members, nearly all of his friends now lay dead on the ground, never to breathe, walk, talk, laugh or cry ever again. James couldn't help but let a tear roll down his cheek as Fiona's face flashed in the sky next, the ghost of her final smile out on view for all to see for one, final time, and then she was gone too, replaced by the sullen boy from Twelve. Dead. They were dead, and James hadn't even got the chance to say goodbye. A second tear rolled down his cheek as the grief sunk into his chest, a sullen misery that ached through his bones as he tried to relax without success.

Just then, he heard a faint growling in the distance. Clutching his backpack, he got to his feet, his head swirling around cautiously. A pair of beady red eyes peeked through the trees, wait no, there were at least three pairs of them.

James didn't need to be told to run.

Shaddock Coulibaly, Day 5:

Shaddock couldn't believe it.

He. Had. Killed. A. Career.

And not just any Career either, the girl from Two, the strong favourite to take home the crown right from the start, and more importantly, the girl from who had taken away Fiona's life with one, cruel, slash.

And he hadn't meant it either.

It was just a trap to catch one of those rabbits he saw scurrying around, he had never meant to hurt anyone, and yet, no rabbits had scurried towards it, just Keto, the quick girl from Two, who promptly fell into the punji stick trap he had created and bled to death. He could still remember whistling happily as he checked on his trap, only to find the dead girl's body, blood pouring out of it like it was a morbid human waterfall of crimson liquid as she lay on the bed of spikes, her life whisked away into the howling winds by his trap. In a sick way, he felt that he did some form of justice towards Fiona.

No, why am I thinking like that? he wondered, his trademark, usual smile gone from his lips and replaced with an anxious frown. It was the Games, wasn't it? The Games that was making him think this way. That killing was anywhere near remotely alright. Because it wasn't, end of story.

Then why am I carrying around a sword?

He gazed down at his shiny, iron sword, the one with the weird inscription on its blade and with a rounded pommel for a handle. This was an instrument of death, an item designed and built to kill, so, if he really was a non-violent person, why was he carrying it around?

Shaddock shook his head. These thoughts kept on swirling through his head as he trudged through the misty grove, almost tripping on the skull of what appeared to be a cow on the ground. This adventure hadn't gone as planned, no, this wasn't what was supposed to happen. A swirling wave of emotions crashed into his heart, and Shaddock gazed ahead with big, empty eyes at the monolith before him. He was no longer the same old treasure hunter boy back home, no longer the boy who spent his days playing with Audrey and working in the fields. No, the arena and seeing Scipio's dead body lying slumped in the bathroom, those events had changed him, mauled his moral compass, toyed with his heart, turned and twisted his brain, tinkered with his outlook towards life. And seeing Fiona and Luis die right in front of his eyes in the Bloodbath, knowing full well that he could have, no, should have, saved them, oh, that only dumped a truckload of salt into the already burning wound in his heart.

"I'm telling ya, one of us is taking home the crown!"

Those words burned in his heart, stinging his brain with every word acting as a pinprick that pierced through his soul. A hopeless, timeless, memory of a sentence that had been uttered only a week ago. A sentence that spiralled into chaos, a sense of overconfidence, it seemed, and descended into the black realm of lies as Fiona, Alameda and Luis perished, never to be seen again. Shaddock shook his head, fighting back a sob as he struck his sword into the dirt, letting out an exasperated grunt, before recoiling at the sight of this violent action.

What have I become?

Just then, he heard a loud scream emerge from within the trees.

James.

He could recognise that voice from a mile away. His final friend in the arena, screaming for help. This time, Shaddock knew he had to run in and rescue him. He didn't even hesitate, didn't even think twice, didn't even stop for a moment to wonder if this was even a sane plan to begin with.

He just ran.

Charging through the woods, he found James, cornered to a tree by three, snarling fox mutts, with coats of bright red fur, razor-sharp teeth, and pointy ears that resembled that of an ogre in Shaddock's childhood bedtime stories. His face was marred with ugly gashes of blood, which dripped to the ground, staining the grass below red. His left sleeve was torn, revealing yet another gash on his shoulder. A desperate, panicked look was plastered on his face, his eyes wide in terror, his hands and legs trembling as he faced the fox mutts, who slowly approached him, growling and baring their teeth, like three angels of death that were ready to escort James into the afterlife.

Not on Shaddock's watch.

He charged in, swinging his sword wildly, catching the fox mutts off guard. A rush of adrenaline, that familiar bit of excitement he had when he was doing something adventurous, surged through his veins as he sliced his sword through the body of the fox mutt closest to him, killing it instantly. Without even a tin bit of hesitation, Shaddock let out a grunt of rage, and swung his sword again. "Don't even think about it!" he shouted, decapitating a second fox mutt and stabbing a third when it jumped to bite him, a final whimper escaping from its lips as it crumbled to the ground, dead as a doornail.

James Silva, Day 6:

Normally, James would detest all kinds and forms of violence against anyone in the world, but when Shaddock told him about what had happened to Keto, James had to suppress a small smile from forming on his face. He couldn't help it, and he couldn't explain why he even felt that way in the first place.

One big competitor out of the game.

Game. The way his mind didn't hesitate to think of it as a game. The arena had warped his mind, twisted and screwed it around, changed it into a despicable thing he didn't recognise. He wanted to feel bad, wanted to feel a little something at the fact that Kate had died.

But all he could feel was a disgusting happiness.

Happiness that Keto was dead, happiness that one of the major tributes left standing had been killed off.

What was wrong with him?

He shook his head, trying his best to shrug it off, to just focus on continuing with surviving the Games for as long as he could. Shaddock was no longer the cheerful, optimistic boy James had met on that eventful night at the Tribute Parade, no, the boy from District Eleven had lost that flame of joy within him, had been diminished to a mere hollow shell of what he had once been. He sat down across James, staring sullenly at the sword beneath him. The dried blood of the fox mutts was stained all over it, coating the mystical-looking sword with sanguine smears. It reeked of death, reeked of everything horrible in the Games, giving off a foul, putrid stench of misery and demise, glowing brightly with an aura of despair that had seemingly taken over Shaddock in that very moment. Shaddock rubbed his eyes wearily, dark circles making their mark around his once lively, joyful eyes. He stood up, slightly hunching over a little, and picked up his sword, swaying it around a little as he paced back and forth. "We're out of food," he noted.

"And water," James pointed out, grabbing onto a tree branch and hauling himself to his feet.

Shaddock nodded, the dull look in his eyes slowly shifting to a distressed one. He gazed melancholically towards the grass beneath him, and James could just about feel a dark cloud of dismay and anxiety that had formed around him. Whatever it was, Shaddock Coulibaly might not live to see a Victor be crowned in his current state. "I'll go fetch some water, there's a stream nearby," he told James, his once chirpy voice a mere monotone.

"That's cool with me," James replied. "I'll go collect some fruits."

Shaddock didn't respond, he merely trudged off, two empty bottles of water in his hands, whistling that same happy tune he had been whistling all this while, except the sad undertone was crystal clear for all to hear. James climbed up one of the interlocking networks of trees, a basket in hand. Climbing came naturally to James, he didn't even have to break a sweat doing so. Ellen had taught him how to climb trees a long while ago, and while he was couldn't exactly swing around from branch to branch whilst doing spins in the air like she could, he was a pretty good climber himself. He peeked his head into the treetops and saw it: a bright yellow mango, a large, juicy beauty attached to one of the branches near him. His eyes lit up with delight as he edged closer towards it, looking around to ensure that there weren't any tracker jacker nests or anything of that sort, before swiping the mango and stuffing it into his basket. He chuckled to himself, his mouth watering at the thought of sampling this incredibly large fruit.

Just then, James heard a loud scream, followed by the boom of the cannon.

Shaddock.

James peered beneath the trees, and let out a strangled cry as he saw the girl from District One skewering Shaddock with a spear. She pulled the spear out, brushing aside a strand of her immaculate blonde hair, a wicked smirk on her bright red lips as Shaddock's body fell to the ground, his eyes still wide open in shock, his final scream frozen on his face for all eternity. Shaddock, James's friend, his only remaining ally in the arena, gone. Dead. Just like everyone else in their alliance. Tears streamed down his face, big fat tears that contained his final remnants of hope.

He wanted to cry.

He wanted to wail.

He wanted to sob like there was no tomorrow.

But the girl from One was still lurking beneath him, still chuckling as she swung her spear around, grinning for all of the cameras to see. He had to remain quiet, lest he joined his dear friend Shaddock in the afterlife. She was right there, right beneath him, and she clearly didn't know of his presence. James looked down at his basket, and suddenly, he felt a burning fire in his stomach. He narrowed his eyes, glaring straight at the Career girl, who was just standing right there, perfectly underneath that very branch...

James leapt from the branch, falling silently like a sudden rush of wind in the night, landing on top of the girl from One's head and pinning her to the ground. She let out a quick yelp, but it was too late. They both tumbled to the ground, the girl having been knocked out by the sheer force of James landing on her. He struggled to his feet, a sharp pain in his thigh, but he still crawled forward, and placed the straps of his basket around her neck. Glaring coldly at her, he whispered, "This is for Shaddock, you bitch."

With that, he pulled on the straps, hard, sucking all the life out of the girl who had so cruelly murdered, Shaddock, his friend.

The cannon boomed.

James dropped his basket, the sudden realisation coming crashing towards him like a gigantic hurricane. He gaped at his hands, and he could just picture the girl's blood oozing right out of his fingers. Staggering backwards in horror, he tripped and collapsed onto the ground, a muffled, gagged noise spluttering out of his parched lips.

"What have I done?"

James Silva, The Finale:

They just had to call the Feast. James was nowhere near ready, but he knew what was bound to happen then.

The Finale.

There were only three tributes left: him, the girl from Five and the boy from Nine. It was a miracle that he was still alive, really, after nine long days in the arena. But did he even deserve to be alive?

No, I don't.

Simple question, simple answer. He didn't deserve to be alive at that very moment. Shaddock, he should be here, fighting for a chance to go home. Not James, Shaddock. After all, he had gotten a score of five, while James had only racked up a three. He had been that positive voice throughout the course of their time in the Capitol, in spite of all the drama, all the gore, all the fear and uncertainty of what would happen next. He had killed Keto and had saved James from the fox mutts. He was in every right deserving of the title of Victor, and yet, his name would be forgotten by all of Panem, simply known as a tribute that died in the Sixtieth Annual Hunger Games. Shaddock was dead, and James wasn't, and James could only wish that it were the other way around.

But then, he thought about home, and all the people who were so anxiously waiting for him.

"Please, James," Ellen had begged him in the Justice Building, as she stapled her puffin drawing with that portrait of James, before handing it to him to be his tribute token. Her hair was in a frizzled mess, her eyes wild and terrified. "Please, come home."

It was a war, a raging battle of two sides within him, one that begged for him to keep fighting and to stay alive, even if it meant he had to kill someone, and his usual, non-violent self, still drowning in the guilt of killing the Career girl from District One, and wished that he could die in a hole, so that his one kill, his one act of evil, would be forever forgotten and brushed aside. James tilted his neck, cracking his knuckles, resisting the urge to scream and tear his head apart. He wanted to die, but at the same time, he wanted to come home for Ellen and his family. He hated himself, and he knew everyone else would too, but at the same time, he wished for a chance to apologise, and yet, he also greatly considered running away, escaping from his pain by just dying.

It was all just a conflicted, jumbled up mess.

He gripped Shaddock's sword tightly. He didn't deserve to be carrying this, but the side of him that wanted to keep on fighting had persisted. Trudging around another monolith marked with even more runic inscriptions, he could just barely make out the shape of the silver horn of the Cornucopia gleaming in the distance.

He was getting closer to the fight of his life.

James took a deep breath, still unsure of what he would do once he encountered a tribute. Kill them? Let them kill him and win? He had absolutely no clue. His moral compass was spinning around wildly, leaving him in an emotional mess of a roller coaster.

Suddenly, from out of the blue, a blur of a figure leapt out and swung an axe at him. Caught off guard, James dodged to the side, but just then, he felt a sharp, fiery pain in his left arm. The pain shot up his arm like a burning wildfire. He howled in pain. It exploded in his head with a blinding whiteness. It made his head spin round and round and round, stars exploding like a bomb in front of his eyes. It made him reel back, staring horrifyingly at his stump of a left hand. It was like his arm had been replaced with ice and electricity had been wired straight into his spine.

It hurt like hell.

Suddenly, a blinding rage surged through his body. He glared at the girl from Five, who stood with her axe held high, gasping when she saw his severed hand lying on the grass below, a shaky, terrified look on her face.

He wanted her dead.

A loud, bloodcurdling cry blared from his mouth as he charged forward, his sword gripped tightly in his right hand. The girl from Five shrieked and tried to dodge, but James barrelled straight into her, knocking her to the ground. He brought his sword down into her chest, and the cannon boomed soon after.

She was deadwood to him.

She was a ratty piece of scum to him.

She deserved to die.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a figure rushing towards him, a pointy object, probably a dagger or a throwing knife, in his hands.

Kill.

James whipped out the jar of nightlock berries from his backpack and spun around to face the onrushing boy from Nine, who had a determined expression on his sunburnt face.

James wanted to go home.

He raised the jar high above his head, and with all his remaining strength, flung it straight at the boy's head. The boy wailed in agony as the jar shattered, the glass shards that were sent slicing through his skin sharp enough to cut flesh as if it posed no resistance. At once a fountain of red came from the wounds, the ebb and flow in time with a terrified heart.

But that wasn't all.

The crushed nightlock juices seeped into the poor boy's eyes, causing him to scream in a horrific burst of pain as the poison of the berries flushed into his inner systems, and in just a few seconds, he collapsed to the ground.

James just stood watching as if he could not hear the screams of pain, as if it were a silent theatre production of no importance to him. But in reality, he was just at a loss over how to feel. He could feel, nothing, as he watched the boy twitch violently for one final time, before he went still, drenched in blood and plum-coloured nightlock juices. The gory, graphically violent scene before him took a while to register in James's head, as did the throbbing pain in his stump of a wrist.

Then, a wave of crushing reality surged over him and he screamed at the top of his lungs, the booming sound of his screams drowning out that of the trumpets in the distance.

The world became pitch black not a minute later.

Katniss and Peeta held their moment of silence for James. "I must admit, I still get nightmares from watching that finale live on television," Peeta told Katniss, shuddering at the thought of the boy from Nine's horrific demise.

Katniss winced. "Well, I hope he's happy, wherever he is now."

Peeta nodded. "Yeah. I think I heard Johanna mention that District Seven loved him. She said that he donated quite a sizeable chunk of his income to the poor. Pretty much raised the standard of living there."

A small smile spread across Katniss's face. "Well, that's certainly good to hear."

There was nothing more to add on, so the pair swiftly moved on to the next Victor. A tall girl with light brown skin glared back at them, with long brown hair that was tied in a ponytail behind her back. She had cold, dark brown eyes and was very muscular, owing to the fact that she was from the Career Academy. But her most distinctive feature was her teeth, which was cosmetically altered to be extra sharp, and was inlaid with gold. She proudly bared her sharp teeth to the bemused audience watching below, a ferocious, terrifying expression on her face. "Enobaria Golding."

VICTORS

District 1-Sapphire Huntington(4), Onyx Hibonite(9), Franc Montgomery(14), Crystal Montgomery(21), Sterling Jones(25), Luxe Carmichael(36), Geneva Cooper(37), Cartier Cooper(44), Valkyrie Montgomery(54)

District 2-Ragnar Sveinsson(5), Reyna Boudicca(6), Draco Hadley(10), Scipio MacAllister(17), Freya Carson(22), Hercules Nichols(28), Julia Dawson(39), Brutus Gunn(42), Lyme Sveinsson(45), Evan Fortis(55)

District 3-Nikola Johnson(13), Gadget Schroeder(24), Beetee Latier(40), Wiress Jansen(47)

District 4-Marina Bluebell(1), Mags Flanagan(11), Jolien Fisher(31), Timmy Fisher(32), Iris Fisher(33), Rafael Fisher(34), Coral Thiller(41), Poseidon Nakamura(58)

District 5-Shocker Crimson(8), Switch Kim(19), Flash Morrison(27), Porter Tripp(38), Marie Meredith(52)

District 6-Ford Hamilton(20), Kimi Bentley(51), Audi Lando(59)

District 7-Hassan Greenwood(2), Jill Wilson(15), Olive Sanchez(26), Birch Davison(35), Blight Gavin(53)

District 8-Woof Casino(16), Calico Pepper(48), Cecelia Rheys(56)

District 9-Gwendolyn Whitfield(18), Laurel Flamsteel(29), Miller Thompson(49)

District 10-Ringo Alvarez(7), John Gatwick(23), Mare Trybull(43), Colt Dias(57)

District 11-Orchid Bloom(12), Seeder Crue(30), Chaff Mitchell(46)

District 12-Axel Millar(3), Haymitch Abernathy(50)

Victors that are underlined are deceased.

A/N: Jill: Oh, Jill, you were arguably the first Victor I genuinely felt proud of! I'm sorry I had to kill you off, but alas, Johanna has to be the only female Victor from D7 left standing at the end, and I felt that the best way to end your incredible story was with a murder mystery that's still left unsolved. RIP Jill.

Scipio: This was made on the fly. Someone else was originally put as a death in his place, but I changed it up at the last minute. Oh Scipio, your character development was great, and I'm sorry that you were wrongfully accused of betraying Jill! Eep, he's another murder mystery and a great character that I loved, I'm sorry that it has to end this way. RIP Scipio.

Who do you think killed Jill? Who do you think killed Scipio? Will James survive or will he bite the dust? Who's dying next? Leave your answers in the reviews xd

And yeah, I did eulogies for once xd. Hope you enjoyed that and yeah, once again, thanks a lot to James, aka the garden, you were of amazing help when I was brainstorming this chapter and you pretty much gave me the whole plot outline, so thank you very much! Sorry for the slow update speed, this might be a norm from now on aha. Well, that's all for today, see you next time! Cheers :)