Sparkle Melchor, D1

My stylist hands me my outfit for the arena. "It seems to be for temperate weather," she says. "I can't say exactly what it will be, but I wouldn't expect anything too extreme, like tundra or desert. I'm sorry, that's all I can figure out. I don't want to mislead you."

"Yeah," I say. "Good. I can do temperate."

She steps away to let me get dressed, and I put the clothes on. There's a pale green, light cotton shirt with short sleeves, tan pants made of a stiffer material, and a grey waterproof jacket to top it off. There's also a pair of thick socks and heavy boots, which make me think there might be some rain coming our way, but that wouldn't be unusual. They usually have it rain quite a bit—dying of dehydration isn't fun to watch.

The tube that will carry me up to the surface is off to the side, and I look at it hungrily. I finish zipping up my jacket, then step inside. Adrenaline pumps into my system. I'm so focused I almost have tunnel vision, but at the same time I'm incredibly aware of my surroundings. I am strong, I am fast, and I am determined.

I am ready to kill.

Wilson Joyce, D8

I stand on my pedestal, facing the Cornucopia. We're in a meadow, with a forest on all sides surrounding us like a circle. As the seconds count down, I look at my fellow competitors.

To my left is Beklyn from District 12. She looks like she's gearing up to run into the Cornucopia, and I feel sorry for her. She'll never make it against the Careers in the bloodbath, not at her age and stature.

Catullus is on my right. Beautiful, perfect Catullus, with his greek-god physique and perfectly unkempt mop of red hair. He's looking at the other careers, no doubt rehearsing their plan in his brilliant mind. There's a smile on his face, not a malicious one, but one of wistfulness, and it's showing off his dimples.

I don't want him to die. The thought hits me like a bullet. I don't have a family. He does. He has Cressida, he has parents, and I have neither.

And only one of us can win.

I'll never be able to kill him. And if I don't do it, then I have to know he's died, see his face unblinking in the sky some night and live with the fact he's not around anymore until somebody else comes around to end my suffering.

I don't know if he'll actually win. He's strong enough, and smart enough, but there's too many variables. But I can make sure he's always alive in my mind.

The gong goes off, and the other tributes start running, some to the forest, some to the Cornucopia.

I sit down and wait to be killed. I'd never win anyway; I'm just like Beklyn—too small and too young. Catullus is a Career; he's sure to live long enough for me to die.

By the time the girl with the knives reaches my throat, I've seen him run to the middle and fend off attacks with ease, twirling and dodging with the agility of a ballet dancer.

He turns, and our eyes meet as the blade slices my neck. He looks almost sad.

I don't.

I smile.

And everything disappears.

Cemeron Locksbee, D6

I run in wildly, looking for any supplies or weapons to grab.

I'm too slow. There's nothing for me. I backpedal empty-handed, but I've already been targeted by the girl from 12. She advances on me, and I can only run. I sprint, fast, avoiding rocks and debris, quickly, quickly—

Not quickly enough, though.

Pepper Lee, D11

As soon as the gong goes off I sprint away from the Cornucopia. The woods look safe; they're my best shot.

I'm not as fast as I thought I was. Maybe it's the chaos around me, and maybe I'm unconsciously slowing down to watch it, but everybody else seems to be moving a lot faster. And the woods seem so, so far away...

I can't see Trick. I know he said that when we got to this point, all bets were off and he wouldn't save me, but I still hope he's okay.

Maybe I should be more concerned with myself.

I stop looking around and put my head down, sprinting as quickly I can for the treeline. It's too far away—my lungs are screaming with effort and my legs feel like jelly, though that part could just be nerves.

And then there's a hand on my shoulder. It grabs the fabric of my jacket and yanks me backwards, choking me with inertia. Before I can try to escape, or even figure out who's got me, a knife is slicing through the flesh of my throat.

I'm released, and fall to my knees. I bring my hands up to the wound. I have to plug it, stop myself from bleeding out, but the moment I feel how wet it is I know I have no chance. Blood is spilling out of me like a river of wine, coating my chest and soaking the ground at my feet.

My killer runs past me into the forest that I couldn't make it to. I think it's Vallora, though I can't be certain. She's got a backpack and is absolutely covered in blood—all mine? Surely not. There's too much there.

Or maybe it is mine. There isn't much left in me, that's for sure.

The stream between my fingers starts to slow. I pitch forward, no longer able to balance on my knees.

My face hits the dirt, but I don't feel it.

Vallora Share, D6

I keep running into the trees for a long time, until I feel safe.

Then I lower myself to the ground against a tree and suck in a shaky breath. I just killed two people. I actually just killed two people. Both of their lives ended, forever… because of me.

Training Center dummies are nothing compared to that.

At least I have a backpack to show for it. I dump it out and take stock of what I've got. The knives I got from the bloodbath, plus another one from the bag. An empty waterbottle. A one-ounce jar of something that looks to be ointment. And a net.

Overall, not a bad haul.

Not worth their lives, though.

Ellinor Harris, D9

As soon as I hear the gong go off and the Games start, I sprint for the center. I need to grab a backpack and get the hell out of sight.

One sure foot after the other, I dodge a sword bound for my head and snatch a bag lying near the mouth of the Cornucopia. The handle fits perfectly in my hand, and it isn't too heavy. I briefly worry it may not have much in it, but I don't have time to get anything else, so I turn and flee.

Someone is behind me. I can hear them breathing heavily as I head for the treeline. If I can make it there, I'll be safe, I can hide, I just need to get to the trees, I—

I'm on the ground. There was a divot in the grass or something, and I twisted my ankle in the fall. The person behind me is closer now, and I try to stand back up. My ankle won't hold the weight. All I can do is scramble backwards on all fours, staring helplessly at my pursuer.

It's the girl from District 1. She looks absolutely manic, consumed by bloodlust as she steps on my leg and pins me to the spot. There's a shortsword in her hand and it gleams in the harsh sunlight. There's no blood on it yet, but I have a horrible feeling there will be soon.

It plunges into my stomach and I scream in agony. The girl is feral, hacking into me again and again. I can't even cry. Why won't she just end it, end me? I have to die, I have to die, let me die please, PLEASE—

I get my wish.

Mars Clayme, D5

The gong goes off and I freeze. I need to get supplies from the Cornucopia, but I also don't stand much of a chance against the Careers. So I need to plan my attack carefully.

Why, oh why didn't I think of this problem before the gong went off? We had sixty seconds. I wasted it on seeing who was around me and what loot was in the Cornucopia.

I take a tentative step off my pedestal and towards a backpack, before backpedalling. It's too dangerous right now. All around me knives and swords are flying, people are screaming, and the smell of blood is thick in the air. I can't rush into that.

I can't rush anywhere, actually. I'm frozen to my spot.

The next thing I feel is something piercing through my neck.

I don't feel a whole lot after that.

Bluff Cantor, D11

When the gongs go off, I run for a backpack not far from me. It's light, but there's a spear run through the handle, which I quickly take. It's an okay weapon. I'm not as good with it as a knife, but I can use it just fine. And it's all I've got.

The boy from 5 stands in front of me. He's not attacking, but he's not getting out of my way, either. He's just kinda… standing there.

So I spear him in the throat, right where the neck meets the jaw.

And then I keep going, into the woods until I'm sure there's no way anyone has tracked me.

Willem Vanner, D10

Dad said not to go to the Cornucopia.

But Dad wasn't looking at a mace lying just a few feet from instant I can without exploding, I lunge for the weapon. I dive onto the grass.

I snatch it up and roll to my feet. And then I run for a backpack just past it, sliding it onto my shoulders.

I stand my ground and look out for threats. And then I see the girl from 8. She's got a massive sword, and it's heading right for me.

I move to block the swish of her sword with my mace. The blade makes contact with the hilt of the mace, far above my hands, and… pops the spikeball off the end. The metal clamors to the grass noiselessly, and I am left clutching nothing more than a metal rod.

I barely have time to think oh fuck before the sword finishes its arial arc and removes my head.

Hadley Thrims, D8

I guess winning doesn't run in the family.

He's got a backpack. I take it off of him, not as gracefully as I'd like, but still fast enough to get the hell out of there.

Poor guy.

Beklyn Summers, D12

I get a sword.

It's heavy, but it feels sure in my hand. I twirl it around and look for someone to take out. I'm going to kill someone.

Cemeron is in front of me, on the ground like a crab. Well, he's no Career, but he's someone.

I lunge, and within a few seconds I've taken off his head. It's not pretty, but at least I've added my name to the highlights reel.

I twirl around, dodging chaos and blades as I race under them for supplies. I manage to grab a backpack, too, swinging it onto my shoulders as I run.

And then a body appears in front of me. I look up and curse. It's a Career, the boy from 1.

I should be happy though. I wanted to kill one of them, didn't I? And here he was, presented in front of me.

But he's got a sword, too. And he's bigger than me. And he looks determined.

I do my best, but he's stronger. I never really have a chance.

Apollo Dallier, D1

After I've dealt with Beklyn, I turn my attention to the Cornucopia. There's only us Careers around now, and I do a quick head count: Sparkle, Catullus, Cressida, Lemrey, and Rustle. Good, we all survived. As we should—we are all Careers.

I step over a body and make my way to the center. There's a good selection of pickings for us, and I look for a sheath belt that will fit my current sword. I find one easily and put it on. I also take a knife. They're always useful.

Cressida has emptied out all the backpacks and is sorting the supplies by type. I take an empty backpack and begin to fill it with essentials, like a water bottle, first aid kit, and some dried food. I leave the rest for now. The others will need things too.

The cannons start a few moments later. I count them—seven—and watch a hovercraft descend for the first body. So there's seventeen of us left. I know I killed one, and I think her sword had blood on it, so she probably killed too. Sparkle obliterated that one poor girl. No idea who killed the other four, which is annoying as now I don't know who's actually a potential threat.

Oh well. We can handle anybody.