Ellie "Elle" Callas, 15, D8F:
Jenna wasn't that likeable anyway. I probably should never have joined her and Radley in the first place, because when has waltzing into an established alliance ever turned out well, but mostly because they're just so full of themselves. Things are better now that Jenna is dead. The problem is that Radley is still out there somewhere, and he knows my strengths and weaknesses. Also, he's strong. He earned a Career-level score. And that means that he needs to go as soon as possible.
It's early on in the Games, and I have the option to choose who to hunt down and do so at my own leisure. If I just hid out until the end, I'd have to contend with a bunch of tributes at once because the Gamemakers will force us all together. It'll be easier to survive that if only the weaklings are left, so I have to eliminate my real competition as soon as possible.
I'm banking on the assumption that Radley is alone. I can't think of anybody he'd want to ally with. I doubt he'd make friends with any of the less skilled tributes or join a big alliance at this stage. He's not fond of the Careers either, which means there's a good chance he's on his own. I don't have many supplies, but Radley went into the Bloodbath, so he'll have things that I can take once I kill him.
The terrain passes by, and gradually, the gentle breeze begins to pick up. It rushes against my back, pressing me forward, and eventually hits my left side, forcing me to go right. The wind is heavy now, and I imagine the Gamemakers in some polished control room, all clustered around a monitor as they adjust the stream. This wind is not natural, it's concentrated right at me, and I know what it's doing. It's directing me somewhere. The Gamemakers are leading me towards a confrontation. They heard my mutterings, and they've decided to fast-track me towards another tribute, presumably Radley.
Eventually, a figure appears in the distance, a pale blue blob topped with a dab of yellow. As I grow closer, sticking to the tree line so I'm not detected, I can recognize it clearly as Radley. He's turned away from me, doing something in the snow. I try to approach silently, stepping lightly to minimize the noise I'm making. I draw my weapon, the shortsword that's been hanging at my side, and soon I'm only five yards away from him. He's bent low, trying to skin a rodent with a tiny knife of some kind. I'm close, four yards, and I see the knife is just one attachment on his multitool. Three yards and a sliver of bandage is showing. He's injured, even better. Two yards and–
"What the hell are you doing!?" A second person emerges from somewhere behind me. Radley whips around. Both of the boys are looking right at me, and I'm sandwiched between them. I recognize the second as from District Six. What did he get in training, a five? I doubt he even knows what the spear in his hand is used for. Radley, on the other hand, doesn't have a weapon except for the dinky little jackknife, but is physically robust enough to put up a fight if I decided to attack him head-on.
I decide to go for Radley, raising my sword, but a sharp stab of agony blossoms across my stomach. I drop to the ground, and, looking down, see the spear protruding from my abdomen. District Six looks ashamed of himself as I convulse. I cup my hands under the wound, trying to put some of the blood back in, but it just keeps streaming out. Radley takes over, abruptly jerking the spear out of my body, and he does nothing to help me. He just pats Six on the back and leads him away.
The world dims. The ground is cold, but my torso is warm. Because of the blood. There is nothing to do but gasp in another breath of air and wait for death to come. And come it does, as my vision goes black and the weight of my own body overtakes me.
Zea Poales, 18, D9F:
After a day of thinking about it, I still can't get the story of Soren and that girl Genevieve off my mind. She was generous to keep him around longer than she probably should have, and her generosity ended up costing her dearly. The story told me everything I need to know about Soren: he's a conniving little prick, has no loyalty whatsoever, and intentionally sabotages people who genuinely care about him. If he had no problem betraying his only friend in the world, something tells me he won't have a problem betraying us either. And you can't be the second person to turn on the alliance.
Thankfully, there's an excellent reason for him to stay loyal to us, at least for a while. We were entirely dependent on Pola for food, and now that her arm is injured, she can't find any for us. We've been scavenging, trying to make do, and I'm always fiddling with a dart so that I'm prepared to kill any approaching animals, mutts or otherwise. We've exhausted most of our packaged food, and I know I'm not as strong as I usually am. Pola's arm is healing, but slowly. She'll be able to use it again in three days, if her predictions are right (and they usually are). Before Soren splits from the alliance, he'll want to mooch one last meal first. In that case, three days is what I'll give myself. I'll betray the alliance in three days, just as Soren would.
There's no honor in the Hunger Games, and I'm not exactly a paragon of virtue. It's a matter of getting as much as you can out of your allies before somebody dies. Pola's made herself too indispensable to us, so gradually that I didn't know until it was already too late. She's the breadwinner, the one we can always trust to bring home the bacon. But she's dangerous too. She knows we need her around to feed us and get us water in the arena. But what if there was another way to get food? There is one. The sponsors in the Capitol. But for them to be invested enough to spend money on spoiling me, I need to do something so gutsy that they practically have to help me make it through.
Three days, stock up on food courtesy of Pola, and then kill her and Soren. That's the plan. My fear is that Soren will get ahead of me and make his move first, but realistically, that's unlikely. He'll prefer to work in the dark, at night, because he doesn't have significant weapon skills. I'm long-range. The second I have food and water on hand, I'll take both out within seconds of one another.
Pola will have to go first. She fiddled with her knife thing and made it electric or something pretty early on. I couldn't follow, but she can't kill me unless she stabs me. And considering I can throw a dart much farther than she can reach, I'm liable to win. THe hangup is that Pola could have modified her knife to a greater degree than I realized, and I would look very foolish indeed. Whatever the case, she's the most dangerous one out of all of us.
And her arm is healing remarkably fast. She can move it a few inches in every direction now, even though she can't bend it or grasp anything. Tributes are going quickly, it seems, the latest cannon sounded just this morning. It's only a matter of time before the Games wrap up, right? Last year's Games were pretty disastrous. Langston Arquette dragged out the Games over the course of sixteen days, and then a twelve-year-old from District Twelve claimed the Victory.
His replacement's job is even more delicate because it's a Quarter Quell. If she's smart, she'll opt for a short, nine- or ten-day affair. It's the fourth day now. I'm probably almost halfway to the finale. The Career Pack should get some kills in the next few days if they don't want mutts sicced on them, and by the time I kill Pola and Soren, the action will be at its peak. In honest, fair combat, any of the Careers could probably beat me, but nothing is honest or fair about a girl who gambled on bar games and played darts for money and lied and made back-room deals to take home the biggest pot.
In honest, fair combat, any of the Careers could probably beat me, but I do not intend to be honest or fair in the slightest.
Griffin Jagger, 17, D11M:
I don't think anybody expected the fish to attack us. Once the first one bit Ardledge, dozens more began flipping themselves upwards, leaping to try to get in the tent. We got out daggers and tried to fight them, but it was useless. The only thing we could do was hide in the tent and wait for the fish to get tired or die, which took several hours. Ardledge's fish was still attached to his collarbone, and even though it was dead, we still couldn't pry its jaws off. Emily had to perform a delicate operation with the chainsaw (or rather, as delicate an operation as can be expected) just to remove it.
We still have plenty of medicine left, and nobody is seriously hurt, but we learned a very important lesson: the Gamemakers rule the arena. No matter what we do, they have the power to take everything away from us with the push of a button. If they feel like seeing us torn apart by beasts, they'll have us torn apart by beasts. If they feel like seeing us float listlessly with the currents of a shallow but massive lake, they'll have us float listlessly with the currents of a shallow but massive lake. And if they feel like seeing us starve to death in our tent while those other two things happen, they'll have us starve to death in our tent while those other two things happen.
We can't go outside, and we have no food remaining. The fish aren't edible, as we learned once we cut one open. Its insides wept pus, and it had large tumors in its guts. Parts of it were black and slimy, and it had lots of spiky bones and very little flesh. Plus, it reeked of infection. The fish in the water that are still alive keep swimming upwards, slamming against the underside of the tent. Whenever we undo the flap, we have to shut it immediately because they try to get in. In addition to having no food, we've also run out of water. The supplies we need are so close and yet so far. There's no way to fend off a school of vicious, flesh-eating fish, so we just have to wait them out.
We can't eat or drink. We can't even pee. It seems like we've gotten ourselves into an unsolvable predicament. The best thing to do is simply hope that we'll wash up on a shore sooner rather than later. We've sifted through our supplies, even tried out the bonus item, but we can't figure out what it's for. We studied the map of the arena, but there's no way of telling where we are. There's nothing to do but wait, and wait, and wait some more. After a day of being cooped up together, everyone's feeling snippier than usual, myself included.
Part of it is that we're all desperately thirsty and longing for food, but I'd say that the biggest source of tension is that none of us have gone to the bathroom for a day. It's a question of what we're going to do when we can't hold it anymore. The problem will just get progressively worse until there's nothing else to do but go on the floor, and that is not something I'm looking forward to.
My guess is that the Gamemakers have no interest in seeing that, so they'll probably at least get the fish away from us before things get to that point. At least, I hope they will. Of course, the Careers and the other tributes are still also out there. There are so many threats here, and there's no way to avoid them all. The fish are still thrashing underneath us, and I wonder when they'll get tired.
Until then, we're still trapped.
Chip Maxen, 13, D12M:
Time drags on. The tent floats along, but the fish never let up. We're forced to turn one of our empty water bottles into a makeshift toilet.
Time drags on. We bicker about small things. Our irritation is getting the better of us, so we quarrel over nothing of importance.
Time drags on. Even Ardledge, the most optimistic of all of us, is feeling despondent. We're losing hope and energy.
Time drags on. We don't bother talking, better to save our breath. There's been nothing to eat or drink for a full day.
Time drags on. The day passes in slivers of peace punctuated by the incessant persistence of the fish. There's no way to stop them.
Time drags on, so I decide to use my pack as a pillow and sleep it away.
Rafe McClellan, 18, D2M:
Eliza and I went out early in the morning to hunt. We picked a direction and set out with nothing but our weapons and some water. This strategy turned out to not be very effective, but it was still better than nothing. Working together, we collectively killed a fat bird of some kind, a squirrel, and a thing that looks like a rat. They won't last long, especially not split between four people, but they're worth their weight in gold. We have not had any food today, and enjoying some meat will put us all in a good mood.
After a long, stressful day of toiling away in the trees and trying not to waste our remaining energy, we return to the Cornucopia with our spoils. Livi and Oscar are waiting for us near a firepit they've built. "How were things?" Eliza asks, setting down her pack.
"Boring. There's not a whole lot of excitement, but considering we're in the Hunger games, that seems like it's probably a good thing." I can certainly understand Livi's sentiment. The Gamemakers, as I've learned, are the biggest threat, because we have no way to defeat them. They can manipulate the elements around us, and they can send mutts to liven things up or get rid of tributes they dislike. Lyra-Rose's death was proof enough of that. One question looms above all the others: if that was the surprise at the beginning of the games, what worse creatures wait for us at the end?
Something not nearly as useful as the quarry we caught today. All four of us help coax flames up in the pit, then begin roasting the bird over the flames. We'll preserve the squirrel and rat thing for breakfast tomorrow, considering they're so small. The bird meat ends up tough and chewy, but it's better than nothing. I'd have turned my nose up at it in the Capitol, but now it's almost delicious, if a bit hard to choke down.
Things take a turn for the worse when Eliza decides we should all have a chat together to 'improve our group bonding' (her euphemism for being interesting enough to satisfy the Capitolites). The problem is that Eliza is fond of talking about home, and I always find myself dancing around the more uncomfortable subjects. "So," she begins, "How about we all tell one another about our families?"
"No." Oscar's tone is surprisingly forceful. "You all can go ahead, but I don't feel like it." For a second, Eliza seems as though she's about to object, but then decides against it.
"Okay. Livi, how about you?" Livi settles in a little closer to the fire.
"Sure. So, as you all know, I'm from District One. I live in a big white house with my dad and two younger sisters. My older sister moved out, and she has a husband and a baby, so that makes me an aunt. I'd say I have a pretty good family, my dad's wonderful and my sisters are some of my best friends."
"When you're older, are you going to be the strict aunt or the fun aunt?" Eliza asks.
"Oh, I don't know. I'm a strict person, but I'd want to be the fun aunt so I can spoil my nephew. After all, I'll have so much money when I'm Victor. It would really be a shame if I didn't devote at least some of it to extravagant gifts for him." Livi's piece is pretty Capitol-friendly, and it makes her seem human enough to be likeable.
Eliza goes next. She mentions that she grew up with both a mom and a dad, and that they have a running gag about how her dad can predict the future. She heaps example upon example, and each one is funnier than the next. She even tells about when this boy Jonas released a rat into the training academy during an exercise in staying still, except she replaces 'training academy' with 'school' to sanitize it for the public. I went to a different academy, but my friend Bennett was there, and he told me all about itl. According to him, the chaos was delightful, with everyone running everywhere, the old trainer leaving, and their class getting dismissed early. I remember when he told me and Pierre and Elias, when we were more interested in innocent, happy, childish things. It's a good memory, and those are in short supply, but then I remember right as Eliza reminds me.
"Rafe, now it's your turn!"
Eliza Maddox, 17, D2F:
"Oh, no thank you. I'd rather not share," Rafe says.
"Why?" I ask. "Can't you and Oscar at least tell us a little something? What were your parents like? What things did you do as a family? It's not all that serious."
"I'm sure they have their reasons, Eliza. They don't have to talk about themselves if they don't want to." Livi jumps in.
"Why not say something, though?" Livi shoots me a warning glance, as if ordering me to shut up, but I just don't understand why everyone's making it such a big deal. Describing one's family is an easy task, so why are Oscar and Rafe so averse to it?
"Perhaps, Eliza, just maybe, if we all think very hard, we can remember that not everybody has an excellent home life. In fact, some people feel very uncomfortable discussing their personal business with others, particularly when it's being broadcasted on television to the entire nation. But the truth is it's absolutely none of your business why Rafe and Oscar elected not to take a turn, because they are under no obligation to explain themselves, regardless of their reasons." Livi snaps back at me in true Livi fashion, and I can see through the insults enough to recognize that she's kind of right.
"I guess you have a point. They don't have to do it if they don't want to."
"Eliza, you do know we're right here, yeah?" Rafe looks kind of miffed, but like he's almost finding it funny. How the heck am I supposed to kill these people? They're good, decent, and friendly. I don't want to hurt them, but I have to, because I need to return to District Two and live and see Mom and Pop again. They don't deserve to die.
I wish we could've met at a different time and place. I anticipated being shunned by the Career Pack, or targeted or backstabbed. I never imagined that I would fall in love with the other Careers. Careers are normally so hostile towards one another, and at home, it's considered hazardous when one member gets a little too trusting of the others. Here, though, we're all close. I'll still have to be careful in case of a potential betrayal, but I like being friends with my fellow Careers.
It can't last, of course, but I wish it could. Instead, it's up to me to honor their memories once I'm the Victor. I'll have to prepare a grand speech for my tour, when I get to meet their relatives. I don't have the option to be merciful, because this is a life or death situation. You hunt or you're hunted. Based on the three animals Rafe and I caught, it's obvious which one is more favorable to us.
We snuff out the campfire and turn in for the night, with the exception of Rafe, who's on guard duty. Our supplies have been moved into the Cornucopia, so he's still with us, out of the harsh weather. All four of us are cocooned in thick sleeping bags, but none of us can seem to sleep, so we decide to stay up late with Rafe. For some reason, it's been a much more exhausting day than usual. The quest for food and the argument about family took a lot out of me, but at the same time, I'm riding the high of finally having a good meal. It's a good time for camaraderie.
We keep things lighthearted and fun in hopes that it'll inspire the Capitolites to sponsor us, but things somehow wrap back around to family. Maybe it's that we're more vulnerable at night, or maybe it's that we feel safer whispering to one another in the dark than declaring things in front of cameras, but Oscar promises that he'll talk about his family tomorrow morning.
Eventually we tire, but Rafe stays up, watching over all of us, and I feel surprisingly safe.
Kill Tracker:
Livi Carnelian: II
Oscar Poudret: I
Eliza Maddox: I
Rafe McClellan: I
Lyra-Rose Ripley (DECEASED): I
Quinten Aramdale: I
Soya Orlando: I
Alliance Tracker:
Career Pack: Oscar, Livi, Rafe, Eliza
Protective Older Brothers: Ardledge, Emily, Griffin, Chip
Manipulators and Their Meat Shield: Soren, Pola, Zea
Queer and (Maybe) Romantic: Quinten, Radley
Loners: Damon, Soya
Supplies Tracker:
Career Pack: Blanket (x2), Climbing Gear (x2), First-Aid Kit (x2), Foam Roll (x3), Rope, Sleeping Bag (x3), Sunscreen, Tarp (x3), Poison, Warm Earmuffs, Warm Gloves (x2), Warm Hat, Warm Scarf, Water (x3), Water Purification Capsules (x3)
Protective Older Brothers: Antiseptic Wipes, Climbing Gear, Field Guide, Firestarter, First Aid Kit, Fishing Supplies, Map of the Arena, Note of Advice, Piece of Body Armor, Rope (x2), Severe Infection Medicine, Severe Injury Medicine, Shield, Sleeping Bag, Soap, Special Bonus 2, Utility Knife, Warm Gloves, Water Bottle (x2), Water Purification Capsules, Waterproof and Temperature Insulated Tent
Manipulators and Their Meat Shield: Binoculars, Blanket, Collapsible Lightweight Ladder, Compass, Field Guide, Firestarter (x3), Foam Roll, Map of the Arena, Medium Pack with Supplies (x3), Multitool, Net (x3), Night Vision Goggles (x3), Note of Advice, Powder and Puff, Rope, Safety Box (x3), Scuba Mask (x3), Sleeping Bag (x2), Small Water (x3), Special Bonus 3, Special Bonus 4, Spool of Wire, Sunblock (x3), Tarp (x3), Trap Materials, Turbo Umbrella, Unknown Machine-Looking Thing, Utility Knife, Walkie-Talkies, Warm Gloves
Queer and (Maybe) Romantic: Basic Injury Medicine, Blanket, Bread, Camouflage Set, Collapsible Shovel, First Aid Kit (x2), Insect Repellant, Map of the Arena, Medium Pack of Supplies, Mesh Sheet, Multitool, Night Vision Goggles, Note of Advice, Special Bonus 1, Special Bonus 5, Spool of Wire, Sunblock, Tarp, Trap Materials, Warm Hat, Warm Scarf, Water, Water Bottle, Water Purification Capsules
Damon: Antiseptic Wipes, Compass, Grappling Hook, Multitool, Nutrient Bars, Scuba Mask, Sunblock, Turbo Umbrella, Warm Gloves, Water, Water Purification Capsules
Soya: Apples, Bread (x2), Crackers, Cured Meat, Dried Fruit, Dry Wheat, Field Guide, Flashlight, Iodine, Jar of Lozenges, Resin, Soup, Warm Hat, Water (x3), Water Bottle (x2), Water Purification Capsules
Weapons Tracker:
Career Pack: Bandolier of Shurikens, Bandolier of Throwing Knives (x2), Bow and Quiver of Arrows (x2), Dagger (x3), Spear (x4), Switchblade, Unknown Bat-Looking Thing
Protective Older Brothers: Chainsaw, Dagger, Tanto, Warhammer
Manipulators and Their Meat Shield: Bandolier of Throwing Darts, Hidden Knife Gauntlet (x2)
Queer and (Maybe) Romantic: Shortsword, Spear, Unknown Scissors-Looking Thing
Damon: Axe
Soya: Axe, Bullwhip, Machete
Placement Tracker:
16th Place: Ellie "Elle" Callas, 15, D8F, speared by Quinten Aramdale
Eulogies:
Elle: Elle was always an interesting tribute to write. When I initially received her form, it had a lot of very conflicting personality traits. As a result, she was a clear wildcard. She might have done better had she been more rational, but her cocky attitude mixed with her lack of loyalty were what brought about her death in the end.
