NOTE: I'm publishing a few chapters very close together. If you didn't catch the Lucent chapter, you might want to read that first and come back here afterwards!


Zea Poales, 18, D9F:

Only one more day–this one–and then I'll rid myself of these fools for good.

Soren Ventra, 15, D3M:

Pola's making us forage for food again today, for what she doesn't know will be the last time. Tonight I make my move. I've been on my best behavior in order to lure her and Zea into a false sense of security, to make them think they've reformed me and I'm on the straight and narrow. They've both fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. My only wish is that I could rub it in that I pulled the wool over their eyes. I won't have the opportunity, though, because they'll be dead. For now, though, I need to keep pretending to be a perfect ally. The last thing I want is for my plot to fall through because I got lazy.

Pola treats me like a slave these days, especially when she makes me pick plants for her and Zea. It's outrageous that she thinks I should be responsible for gathering a third of our food. How come she can't pick herself another third of food instead of forcing me to? It's always "Soren, put that flower down! Its juices can be absorbed through the skin and cause heart failure!" and "Don't put the fruit in your mouth, only the leaves are edible!" and "Spit out that mushroom this instant if you don't want to vomit yourself to death!" It's awfully unfair.

My only source of hope is that my plan works. I've accomplished the first part of it already–Pola's not the only one who understands electrical engineering. I know very well what she did with her knife, and when she was sleeping, I sabotaged her work by adding insulation to block the path of the jolt before it has a chance to reach the conductor. This has rendered her weapon entirely useless. I completely removed her additions to my knife. I don't trust her work, and besides, the whole thing would backfire if someone else got ahold of it. Then they could zap me and I'd die. No, I'd much rather take my chances with the weapon by using it for its intended purpose.

Pola's busy lecturing me about some plant or another, Zea is nodding along, brightly, cooing about how right she is, I'm still half in my head about the change of events I'll be setting into motion later, when there's a sudden cry. "Bulls! They're back!"

"You're not even using real swear words," I complain, but then the thundering of hooves fills my ears and Pola's yanking me to my feet as two dozen of the house-sized bull mutts run directly at us. They enclose us in a horseshoe shape as we flee, like they're herding us, and we have no choice but to submit to their whims or be trampled. Getting stomped to death by overgrown farm animals would be an especially humiliating death, so I comply. Beside me, Pola, who's carrying all three backpacks, and Zea, who's uselessly chucking dart after dart at the animals, are running too.

And then two more people come into view, first as blobs of teal, then as figures, then as two blondes armed to the teeth that I assume are the boy and girl from District One. Their pursuers are low to the ground, since they could easily subdue the larger animals, as evidenced by the girl, who drops five or six of them before I can even make out her face. Instead, they're trying to escape a swarm of tiny fanged mice that are nipping at their heels. As the two types of mutts intersect, they split off and keep rocketing off in their respective directions, leaving Pola, Zea, and I alone with two furious Careers charging directly toward us. The girl throws her bow to the ground and unsheaths two spears, one for each hand, while the boy selects a few glittering knives from his bandolier.

I intend to turn tail, like Zea already has and Pola's about to, but before I can, her boot shoots out and connects with the back of my knee. In the span of a few seconds, I fall on my butt, grasp for the knife in my bag, and realize Pola still has it at the exact moment the girl falls upon me, thrusting the sharp point of her weapon through my throat. I try to choke out one last word through the blood bubbling up in my throat, a final curse at my teammates for sacrificing me, but I start convulsing before I can manage it.

Betrayed!

Pola Velek, 15, D3F:

Ignoring the cannon that means Soren is out of my hair once and for all, (well, I suppose it could mean one of the Careers is dead, but that's far less likely) I run. Zea runs too, and I can hear knives whizzing past me, the work of Oscar, the boy. The girl, Livi, now with only one spear, is hanging onto it since she only has one shot and therefore needs to pick her moment exactly right. Thanks to the distraction Soren provided, Zea and I have a pretty significant head start.

Zea veers off to the right, and the boy follows her. He's catching up fast, but Zea ducks and weaves to throw off his aim. He's quicker, and has longer legs, but he's nowhere near as agile and has trouble mimicking her motions, occasionally losing ground as he stumbles or almost trips. I'm having better luck. Livi is slower than Oscar, and I try to widen the gap, even as I hear Zea squeal as her side is grazed. Oscar pursues her, taking advantage of her injury to throw more knives, fatal ones. Once she crumples and her cannon fires, he takes one look at me, decides I'm not worth the effort, and starts collecting his stray projectiles and returning them to his sash. He doesn't want to be left almost weaponless like Livi is right now.

I barely feel the weight of the backpacks I'm hauling. I might not have found the running tests in the Capitol easy, but I know what adrenaline can do for a person. I'm dead set on surviving, and even when I can hear myself panting as I'm driven across the arena, leaving the meadows far behind and taking pleasure in the shady relief of tree cover. I have to slow down to keep from falling or smacking into branches, but so does Livi, and then the forest thins.

I run over barren patches of dirt and areas rich with moss and weeds, a few faint splotches of snow still visible, until the previously hard earth grows soft as I skirt around the edge of a wooded swampland, all the time hoping that Livi will give up and I can finally stop running. But then, I see it, a massive fallen log in my way. I have to scramble over it, hoping against hope that Livi earned her Twelve thanks to proficiency with a different weapon and that she can't hit me dead on with a spear at sixty yards.

As it turns out, she can. I crouch to avoid it, but it catches me in the belly instead of the chest, and I accidentally condemn myself to a more drawn-out end. Livi turns tail, winding back the way she came as I struggle, pulling the spear out of myself so that I won't have to suffer as long. I can't move more than a few feet, so I sit down with the spear laid out in front of me like a peace offering, waiting for her to return, likely with Oscar, to loot my supplies. It seems like hours before she comes back with him at her side like I predicted, even though I know it couldn't have been. He takes my backpacks, she turns out my pockets. He pulls my jacket away from me to check the inside pouches, she frisks me for weapons hidden on my person.

Then, when the song and dance is done, Livi has the mercy to ask if I'd like her to finish me off or let me die on my own. I tell her to get it over with, and, taking the bloody spear, she impales my throat sideways, puncturing both branches of my carotid artery. I count to ten to block out the pain, but by the time I hit eight, I hear the beginning of my cannon before I'm severed from the world forever, a life, a count, a cannon incomplete.

Ardledge Merton, 18, D4M:

I wonder what Winnie's doing. The Hunger Games are technically mandatory viewing, and there's no work or school in session while they're going on, but Winnie and I get our food from the sea. The fishermen who work for the Capitol don't have to get out on the water, but we're not those kinds of fishermen. We sell a little of our catch in exchange for other necessities, but we eat our fish. Winnie can't exactly go without eating so she can watch the Games.

The Peacekeepers are pretty lax about the rules, because they understand not everyone can afford to take a day off of fishing or trading or washing. People still have a need for food and supplies and clean clothes even though there's a death match being broadcasted. Wherever Winnie is, she'll have Adrian with her. If there was ever a time I'd want them to be at home watching me, it's now. I'm clean and dry. I have food and water. The cavern is nice and quiet and cozy, especially since it's one of the rare moments where nobody's talking.

It's almost peaceful. I want Winnie and Adrian to know I'm safe and doing fine, so I keep a smile on my face. The Hunger Games are exciting sometimes, but that's when things get dangerous and scary. Most of the time they're pretty boring and uneventful, for us tributes at least, which gives us plenty of time to think. I spend a lot of time thinking about Winnie and Adrian, but I also spend a lot of time thinking about the Gamemakers. The Gamemakers are the ones with the power, and I'm very familiar with their different methods of livening up the dull moments.

The reason I'm contemplating this? There were three cannons earlier. Three people dead within a few minutes of each other and you expect me to believe the Gamemakers weren't involved? I suppose they might not have been, but it's more plausible that, since there haven't been many deaths recently, they stirred up a few tributes and set them on each other. I'd bet the Careers were involved, since those are the ones who are supposed to be doing most of the killing.

The worst part about being a tribute is the not knowing. When I was a spectator, I knew what was going on in the arena. It never occurred to me that the tributes didn't, that outside of their camps, they had no clue what was happening. I have so many fears and questions and worries, but Winnie and Adrian don't need to know that, so I keep it to myself. Because the best part about being a spectator was the other kind of not knowing–I had no concept of what living the experience was like, and I always assumed it was a cakewalk. It's not.

Winnie and Adrian have enough to be concerned about in regards to whether or not I'm going to live until sundown, they shouldn't have to wonder about my mental state, so in the end, I decide to preserve the silence of the cavern and, for at least the time being, just say nothing.

Radley Allaway, 17, D9F:

The kiss seemed to break the ice. For once, Quinten's not immersed in self-hatred. He's actually talking and doing things and showing an interest in the world around him, and it's a pretty dramatic change. As if that wasn't enough of a reason to keep up this romance thing, the Capitol sent us a present: a brand new sickle. That's not exactly cheap, and it's proof to me that the audience wants us to be together.

It has even greater significance to Quinten. To him, it's evidence of what I've been telling him, namely, District Six is full of crap and nobody else cares if two boys like each other. It means that he has nothing to worry about. It's giving him the green light to love who he wants to and do as he pleases. But, as happens so often in the Hunger Games, one problem disappears and another will present itself.

It's about the cannons. There haven't been any cannons grouped together since the Bloodbath. This wasn't two lone tributes bumping into one another and getting into a fight. This was a coordinated attack of some kind, probably orchestrated by the Careers. And Careers generally feed off of blood. Not literally, but the more they kill, the more they want to. They know that each death brings them closer to Victory. If the Careers are on the prowl, that's bad news for everybody else.

As a result, Quinten and I have been tucked away in our trench. If we're really lucky, the Gamemakers might make the Careers hold back, giving us a few days of safety so the tension can build up again after the showdown. Pacing is key to a well-received Hunger Games. If all the action happens together, each fight has to be bigger and better than the last. By separating the big events, the viewers can get excited again.

But they're still excited about child murder. There's definitely an art to the rigamarole of making it interesting, but the content itself is nothing to laugh about. The Capitol glorifies its punishment and keeps the districts sufficiently quashed by forcing them to participate in the system if they want to better their people. Victors' districts are showered with money and food and luxuries. I was little when our last Victor won, seventeen-year-old Riley Goddard, and at the celebration held in his honor, his Capitol team threw cash to the people lining the streets. Auntie Tamsin sent Rodney and Dara and I with her bushel baskets and made us collect bills from the roadways, and then we had a feast with white sugar and chocolate and fancy pastries from the bakery. We even sprung for some peaches and whipped cream.

I'm seventeen now, just like Riley was when he won. And even though I know murder is wrong and I'd lose Quinten and good people with their whole lives ahead of them would die, I can't help wondering what it would be like to parade through the dirt roads in a chariot like the one from the tribute parade, listening to people scream my name because I'm the reason they can pay off a house loan or buy the horse they need for harvest season or treat their children to a special memory they'll always carry with them, and I want it. I want it, but I also don't want it, but I can't help myself from wanting it.

Such is the nature of the Games.

Chip Maxen, 13, D12M:

At some point, I can't hold my tongue any longer. "Who do you think died earlier?" I think it's safe to say that the series of cannons is rubbing all of us the wrong way. You don't get this far into the Hunger Games without growing a sixth sense.

"Well, who's even left?" Griffin asks. "Besides us, of course."

"Four Careers, the pair from Three, the pair from Nine, your district partner, a couple of boys. Is that really it?"

"I think so, yeah. Who can we rule out?"

"Well, it's safe to say that Ardledge, Emily, Griffin, and Chip are still alive."

"Wow, Ardledge," drawls Emily. "That's some crack detective work right there."

He beams. "Uh huh. Real tricky stuff, making deductions and all that."

"Is it too much to hope for that the really strong Career chick snapped and got rid of her allies?" I ask hopefully.

"Yes. Way too much to hope for. More likely the Careers killed somebody else."

"Who, then?"

"Maybe the loner boys?" offers Griffin. "I can't even remember what districts they came from."

"But there are only two of them and we heard three cannons."

"Could be a coincidence, like two different fights at once," Emily says.

"There's no such thing as coincidence," Ardledge says frustratedly. "If Griffin-the-mentor taught me anything, it's that things in the Games happen for a reason. The Gamemakers were involved, I guarantee it."

"Maybe the outlier boys teamed up with the Nine boy," I suggest. "That would explain the three deaths."

"I suppose. Hey, you know what? It could've been the Nine girl and the Three pair. They were allied last time I checked."

"True, but the Nine girl scored well, right?"

"It doesn't matter, she can't beat the Careers."

"Face it, guys, it could be anybody. We'll just have to wait for the faces to show up in the sky tonight." The Capitol Seal is projected on a sheer, curved side of the cavern, since we obviously don't have access to the outdoors at the moment.

"Yeah." There's some discontented shuffling before Emily suggests dinner, and then we sit together, equally uneasy, to wait it out. It's then that the sudden realization comes, to Griffin of all people.

"I've got it!"

"Got what?"

"I've figured out what these caves are!"

"Let me guess," Emily teases, assuming he's joking like Ardledge was earlier. "Caves?"

"No," Griffin breathes. "Well, yes, sort of, but only partly. They're not really caves: they're portals!"


Kill Tracker:

Livi Carnelian: IIII

Oscar Poudret: II

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

Queer and Romantic: Quinten, Radley

Loners: Damon, Soya

Supplies Tracker:

Career Pack: Binoculars, Blanket (x3), Climbing Gear (x2), Collapsible Lightweight Ladder, Compass, Deer Meat, Field Guide, Firestarter (x3), First-Aid Kit (x2), Foam Roll (x4), Map of the Arena, Multitool, Net (x3), Night Vision Goggles (x4), Note of Advice, Poison, Powder and Puff, Rope (x2), Safety Box (x3), Scuba Mask (x3), Sleeping Bag (x5), Special Bonus 3, Special Bonus 4, Spool of Wire, Sunblock (x4), Tarp (x6), Trap Materials, Turbo Umbrella, Unknown Machine-Looking Thing, Utility Knife, Walkie-Talkies, Warm Earmuffs, Warm Gloves (x3), Warm Hat, Warm Scarf, Water (x6), Water Purification Capsules (x3)

Protective Older Brothers: Antiseptic Wipes, First Aid Kit, Note of Advice, Rodent Meat, Rope, Severe Infection Medicine, Severe Injury Medicine, Small Meal, Water, Water Purification Capsules, Waterproof and Temperature Insulated Tent

Queer and Romantic: Animal Traps, Basic Injury Medicine, Blanket, Bread, Camouflage Set, Collapsible Shovel, First Aid Kit (x2), Insect Repellant, Map of the Arena, Mesh Sheet, Multitool, Night Vision Goggles, Note of Advice, Rodent Meat, Special Bonus 1, Special Bonus 5, Spool of Wire, Sunblock, Tarp, Warm Hat, Warm Scarf, Water, Water Purification Capsules

Damon: Antiseptic Wipes, Compass, Grappling Hook, Groosling Meat, Multitool, Scuba Mask, Sunblock, Turbo Umbrella, Warm Gloves, Water, Water Purification Capsules

Soya: Bread, Crackers, Cured Meat, Dried Fruit, Field Guide, Flashlight, Iodine, Jar of Lozenges, Resin, Warm Hat, Water (x2), Water Bottle (x2), Water Purification Capsules

Weapons Tracker:

Career Pack: Bandolier of Shurikens, Bandolier of Throwing Darts, Bandolier of Throwing Knives (x2), Bow and Quiver of Arrows, Dagger (x3), Hidden Knife Gauntlet (x2), Spear (x4), Switchblade, Unknown Bat-Looking Thing

Protective Older Brothers: Chainsaw, Tanto

Queer and Romantic: Shortsword, Spear, Unknown Scissors-Looking Thing

Damon: Axe

Soya: Axe, Bullwhip, Machete


Placement Tracker:

15th Place: Soren Ventra, 15, D3M, speared by Livi Carnelian

14th Place: Zea Poales, 18, D9F, hit with knife thrown by Oscar Poudret

13th Place: Pola Velek, 15, D3F, hit with spear thrown by Livi Carnelian


Eulogies:

Soren: Soren was always a snap to write because his personality was so distinctive. Not evil enough to be a villain, not righteous enough to be an antihero, Soren served as a plot device and a source of humor throughout the story. I absolutely loved him, and even though his arc had him dying around here, I would've happily kept him around for longer.

Zea: Zea's tribute form offered a lot for me to work with. She had significant strengths, but she didn't have the ability to make good use of them. She forgot that in order to successfully use a sweet personality against her allies, she had to play the long game and have a sweet personality all the time in order for them to believe her. She was super fun to write, and I'll certainly miss her!

Pola: Pola was a frustrating tribute because I loved her, yet I never knew where to go with her, if only because of the amount of possibilities she offered. At one point, I had her as a Bloodbath fatality, in another draft, I planned to make her the Victor. I even considered giving her a classic District Three villain arc, but after I had decided on Soren and Zea's deaths, it made sense to kill her off at the same time. I'm definitely sorry to see her go!


Hey y'all!

Did this chapter live up to the hype? I hope that I did these three kids justice, since I normally don't have this many deaths in a chapter. So far, nobody's found the Quinten/Radley easter egg, but my offer still stands! I have another SYOT accepting subs right now and we're still several tributes short, so if you feel inclined to send anyone my way, it'd be incredibly helpful. I'm especially in need of outliers and younger tributes, and please remember that I award sponsor points for each tribute you send in!

–LC :)