A/N: Here we go! This chapter is going to be a fun one, and sorry it's super massive there's just a LOT to cover and I didn't want to skimp out on the content. Please enjoy and buckle up for a wild ride! Thanks again to all of you who have been reading and reviewing it means so much to me that people still care, and I'm so excited to finish this story. Now, onto Day 6!
Cordelia Nile, 17
District Four Female
I stare at the shadowy golden roof above me as I lay on my back in the confines of the Horn. It's the middle of the night, and out of the corner of my eye I can see Chavez shuffling around the perimeter of the field. The last flickers of the fire make him look even scarier than usual as he patrols the area around our campsite. It's going to be my turn to play guard soon, and Chavez is going to come haul me up and out so he can get some shuteye, but that's not why I'm awake. No, I'm awake because my brain is speeding one thousand miles per minute as I try to process everything that's been going on.
The pack is about to break. That's clear to anyone who's even remotely paying attention to our dynamics as of late. Chavez is pissing everyone off, Ardin is obsessed with controlling the alliance, Trinity and Tyberios are focused on protecting each other I think, and then myself and Carmen are just tossed off to the side and forgotten. Everyone's upset with everyone; we called a truce at dinner, but I know when we wake up in the morning, things are going to simmer over the edge. We'll be lucky to make it to the sixth anthem without the alliance completely fracturing. I'm not sure what's going to happen if we split, only that I'm almost certainly going to die and the Outliers are just going to have an even better chance at winning this year. I want this pack to stick together as long as possible, but I don't really have any sway. I'm the scout, I'm the Cornucopia guard, I'm the useless one who didn't volunteer and scored a 7. None of them see me as a contender, and they barely see me as an ally. They just see me as a tool, just like Carmen, to be used and abused until they're ready to toss us away. I'm fine with being a tool and being underestimated if it meant this alliance would carry me deep into the Games. But instead these people are just getting upset at each other and there's nothing I can do to avoid the impending split but sit and watch.
I've been planning something with Carmen ever since I saved her at the Bloodbath. I didn't want to use it this early; I wanted to wait until we were deep into the Games, at least Top 8, and almost all of the other Outliers were gone. But if I don't strike first and try to save myself, and the pack splits before I make my move, I'm a goner unless I get lucky. I won't count on luck, because obviously I haven't been very lucky so far. I got Reaped and no one volunteered. Apparently my dad might have some rebellious ties that Snow might know about. My closest ally before the Games started, and the mediator keeping the pack in relative harmony, was killed yesterday.
My heart stings as I think about Zircon, about hearing the gunshot while I crouched behind the log cabin. I will away the single tear that threatens to spill down my cheek, not letting myself get so torn up about him. Zircon didn't care about me once the gong rang; I was just a tool to him like everyone else. He schmoozed up to me in the Capitol and became my best friend. He thought that would be enough to keep me by his side until the pack split. He was doing a good job of making everyone happy too, besides paying attention to me. He was really the thing keeping the pack together, dissolving the tension and keeping the peace. And now he's dead. I know I should think of him as the cold, focused killer he was in the arena, but instead I just think of him as the goofy, fun-loving kid in the Capitol, gossiping about boys with me. I miss him, that Zircon. The Zircon that died here was someone else entirely. Really, it was the Zircon he was hiding inside of him all along.
The thing that scares me the most about the pack splitting is the gun, though. If a thirteen year old can kill Zircon with one shot, with more time and more practice she'll be able to take the rest of us out even if we all stay together. If the pack splits, half of us die, and the others splinter and go off on their own? She can hunt us down one by one and take us out with a bullet to the head. The hunters will become the hunted, and that girl will sail to victory as long as the Gamemakers don't give her too much trouble. They'd love to see a little girl turn into a murderous sniper in the Capitol, I know it, and the dynamics of this pack have just made us villains so far. And if we're not seen as villains, worse yet we're seen as boring with all of our stupid drama and lack of action. Most packs by now have tracked down most of Outliers and killed them. That should be even easier this year with the wide open arena. Yet it's Day 6, and since the Bloodbath we've only killed the boy from 8 and ran like little girls from the girl from 10. I just want to scream at all of these people that we need to put on a better show for them, tuck our egos away until more Outliers are gone, and stick strong in our alliance. But I know I can't, I'll just tip the alliance further over the edge by expressing my outrage. Trinity hates me and Chavez is thirsting to kill again, even if it's his own little District partner. If I protest what's going on, they'll just say I'm trying to cause chaos and knife me in the back. There's really nothing I can do to stop the split, so I have to accept the reality that this alliance is doomed. It's about to fall apart, and I have to take my destiny into my own hands.
Carmen is laying next to me in the Horn, and I can tell she's as wide awake as me. I squeeze her hand and roll onto my side so I can whisper in her ear.
"You have to try to sleep. You already did what you were supposed to do," I murmur so quietly I'm not sure she heard me. There's silence for a long moment until she responds.
"I'm so scared. I want to see my babies again," she whispers. "I can barely keep my eyes closed."
"I'm going to go take over guard shift. You need to try to sleep," I insist in my whisper voice, squeezing her hand again. "We need our rest for tomorrow."
Carmen just nods her head slowly before rolling onto her side and curling up in a fetal position. My heart melts a little seeing the girl my own age quivering as she tries to fall asleep. I know she's absolutely terrified, and I understand why. Our plan is risky; if it works, we're in a great position relatively speaking, but there's a chance it could blow up. And if it does, at least I know my way around a spear well enough to have an off chance of defeating one of these guys. I'll be able to fend off their attacks long enough to escape if I'm lucky. Carmen can barely jog, not to mention fight in hand-to-hand combat. So I totally understand why she's scared, but I need her rested and able to put on her game face tomorrow. If she blows this for me, I'll never forgive her, because she'll be screwing over both of us. I know she's scared, but if she wants a chance to see her kids again, and if I want a chance to hug my family and kiss Beck again, we're going to have to pull this off right.
I slowly stand and walk out of the Horn, picking my way around the others. I grab my spear from where I've left it with the rest of the weapons before shuffling out to where Chavez is patrolling the clearing. He spots me approaching and pauses, tiredly nodding in my direction.
"Have fun staring at the grass," Chavez chuckles hollowly, sliding his throwing knives back into his belt before yawning. "I need some rest bad."
He starts to trudge back to the Cornucopia to sleep, but I reach out and grab his shoulder. "Wait," I implore.
Chavez twirls, his brow knitted in annoyance as one of his hands instinctively shoots to the belt of throwing knives at his waist. "What do you need to talk about right now that's so pressing it can't wait until I've slept?"
"I just..." I trail off, trying my best to seem scared and unsure. It's not hard with Chavez; we might all act tough and make fun of him behind his back, but he's easily the most intimidating person I've ever met. "The whole thing with Ardin is freaking me out."
"What do you mean?" Chavez asks, and even in the murky darkness I can see him perk up at someone else thinking negatively of the Two girl.
"It's just like, why did she know not to go to the cabin?" I whisper in my lowest, most scared voice, darting my eyes around frantically. By the way Chavez's stance has relaxed, I can tell I seem like a scared little girl. He's underestimating me, which means he's probably really listening too. Good.
"You think she knew somehow?" he murmurs, crossing his arms across his broad chest. "It was fucking weird how she was adamant about not going to check it out."
"And how she wasn't even fazed that Zirc died," I sniffle, wiping an imaginary tear out of my eye. Now I'm a grieving girl alongside being weak and scared. I hope I'm not overselling it, but so far Chavez doesn't seem suspicious of me at all. "It's just weird to me, and I don't want us to get screwed over. I know we're not close but Mags said to look out for each other."
"She did," Chavez nods, turning to stare out at the grass so his left side is facing me. His guard is so far down that I could stab my spear clean through his ribcage, but I hold myself back. That would be incredibly dumb, and it'll ruin the plan even if the rest of the pack doesn't come out here and butcher me once they see Chavez dead. He'd probably stop me anyway, he's the best fighter out of all of us. I can't face him one on one. Because of that, I don't move, letting the silence stretch out between us for long moments as he thinks and I wait in suspense.
After a long while, I muster up words. "It's okay, you don't have to say anything I just...wanted to talk about it with someone."
"Of course," Chavez mutters, turning towards me again. There is a mischievious glint in his eyes, and the cocky grin is back on his face in full force. He must have assured himself of something or figured out some plan in his head. My grip tightens on my spear in fear, but he doesn't seem to notice. Hopefully he's made up his mind to do something along the lines of what would be beneficial for me tomorrow. "I promise you're not on the top of my list, Nile."
"You're not at the top of mine either," I breathe. "Well, goodnight then. Thanks for listening."
"Anytime," Chavez says with another cheeky grin before yawning again and striding off to the Horn. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as he lays down on the ground and pulls himself into a sleeping bag, zipping it up swiftly. I hear his soft snores in minutes, and I turn out to the grass, focusing my full attention to the patrol. I try my best to tune out my worries and thoughts about the day ahead. I'm scared, so utterly scared, but at this point there's nothing I can do. I have to do my best to keep my cool and execute the plan. If it works, there's a good chance I'm coming out of here the Victor. It's a big move, but a necessary one. I reassure myself of all of this over and over as I stare at the grass, ironing out any problems in my mind until I feel no more doubts. There is no turning back now. No matter what, I'll make sure that these people will regret underestimating me. If I'm going out, at least I'll be going out with a bang.
Trinity Vegas, 18
District One Female
The sun glimmers across the horizon as I lean against the side of the horn, throwing my battle axe in the air and catching it. I watch as the morning light dances across the silvery blade of the weapon as it flips end over end in the air before the smooth steel handle lands in my hand once more. I toss it into the air again and again, watching my weapon glint and twirl in the sky. I started doing it out of pure boredom and in a weak attempt to remind the audience of my skills, but now I'm doing it because it's beautiful. I wipe that out of my mind however; there's no point in getting distracted by the beautiful in a death match. I spin in place after I toss the axe upwards for a final time, and I leap up and nab it out of the air, landing gracefully on the ground. Hopefully any groggy Capitolites with money to spare saw that little show, and I'll get a nice treat for breakfast.
Ever since I recovered from the...incident yesterday, I've been beating myself up over how I acted. Esquiria told me too many times to count that no matter what she told me, I would not be prepared for the arena. Back then, I thought she was lying. I cut down two kids at the Bloodbath without blinking an eye, and I was able to compartmentalize it so easily. I barely even remember their Districts now, not to mention their names or faces. I dealt with the drama of the pack, flirting ostentatiously and helping calm the tensions. I've been sorting through my attachment to Tyberios, keeping him close and letting myself genuinely care for him while always reminding myself that he is nothing more than an obstacle in my way. Nothing has been able to knock me off my feet and send me spiraling into hysterics like so many of the other pretty bottle blondes before me.
Nothing, that was, until Zircon died.
We weren't even that close. We barely knew each other in the Academy, and I wouldn't call him a friend, more of an acquaintance. I knew he was going into the Games with me so we had chats and spent time with Kenyan and Esquiria before the Reaping in special sessions, but even then I didn't think of him as anything special. We built more of a bond at the Capitol, and he was fun to hang out with, but even then we had other favorite allies in the pack. I had Ty, and he had that annoying Cordelia. We were never very close, and yet watching him die broke the walls I had built up in my mind. His death sent all of my grief, anger, and terror flooding out into the wide open prairie.
I know that in the Capitol they must be replaying my wailing cries as we ran from the cabin, zooming in on my terrified face and giggling as they watch the tears drip down my cheeks in slow motion. President Snow must be chuckling along with them, and Nuntius must be roaring in the commentating booth about how it seems the Games have broken yet another fragile girl from One. I don't even want to think about what Esquiria is saying or thinking. She must be sitting in solemn silence, thinking about how yet again she has chosen an emotional bimbo who goes slowly insane in the arena and dies before she can come home to her. I'm a disappointment, I'm just like all the others, the other glittering girls who were shattered under the pressure of the Games like glass underfoot. I'm just like them now, a once sparkling thing all broken and useless, just a mess to be cleaned up and a bothersome obstacle. No one in the pack must fear me now, they must see me as a sobbing little girl who's in over her head and has just been putting on a brave face this whole time.
And yet, I am not a sobbing little girl. I have not been putting on a brave face throughout these Games. I screamed and wept when Zircon died, and there's nothing I can do to change that, but I never felt true fear in this arena before that. I was truly courageous throughout every moment before that, and I am resolved to be courageous until I emerge out of this arena with Victory in my grasp. I have to show everyone that I am not the Capitol's pretty little doll who got knocked too hard off of the shelf. I am a warrior, I am a fighter, and I will not let one emotional breakdown ruin me or my shot at Victory.
I snap myself out of my head, cooling my emotions as I hear the others waking up inside the Horn. They cannot see that the inner turmoil within me that is still at full tilt; I already embarrassed myself enough yesterday. I must be the ice queen I was before these Games and for a long time after the gong, grinning prettily with icicles in my eyes. Taking a couple deep breaths in my nose and out my mouth, I focus on the feeling of cold, the feeling of ice, and I try to block away the clamoring feelings inside of me. They will not see me shake, they will not see me ponder, they will not see me cry. They will see me smiling brightly, cracking stupid jokes, flirting like the sunshine that's now filling the arena. They will see me play up my beauty, but more importantly, underneath that unnerving beauty, they will feel the ice again. Chavez and Cordelia will not get under my skin enough to make me lose my cool; my respect for Ardin and my connection with Ty won't melt the ice either. No one can ever see me being weak again, and now is the time to remind them why I was chosen out of a hundred-odd girls to come into the arena this year. I won't fight them, not yet, but I'll remind them of why I am here and that I am someone to be feared in this Games.
The girl from Twelve is the first to crawl out of the Horn, lugging a sack of potatoes and the last of our salt and pepper behind her. I watch with eyes narrowed as she stirs the embers of the fire to life in the way Zircon taught her and begins to cook potato soup. She's not a bad cook, and I'm thankful for the warm meals, but that bag of potatoes is one of our last sources of fresh food. There's another sack of potatoes, some corn and rice, and then we're left with jerky and dried fruit. Twelve's use is running out quick, and I'm annoyed she's still around. I was hoping Chavez would pick her off by now, and at this point the novelty has worn off in the Capitol probably. Having her around is just dead weight, and I know Cordelia sneaks her food when she thinks the rest of us aren't looking. Just another thing about her that sets me off. No wonder she didn't volunteer, she's too sweet to be a trained killer. Just means it'll be easier to dispatch her when the pack splits.
The rest of the alliance emerges from the Horn as Twelve starts peeling the potatoes. She puts the peels in the soup too, which I thought would be disgusting, but she nervously insisted that the peels add more nutrition the first time she did it. I guess we need all the calories we can get, and a rat from the sewers of Twelve must know about scraping together as many calories as possible. As she works, Tyberios walks over and stands where I'm still positioned by the side of the Horn while Ardin, Chavez, and Cordelia all sit down around the fire without saying a word to each other.
"Good morning," Ty yawns, stretching his thickly muscled arms over his head as he does so, his eyes twinkling as they meet mine. "I can tell you got your beauty sleep."
I know he's trying to cheer me up; obviously my beauty is running thin after a week of the elements in the arena and my hysterics yesterday. It's kind of him to give a fuck about my mental state, and it's the reason he's the only one in this pack I can really stand. We've already whispered about working together once the pack splits, but we don't work very hard to hide it. Whether we like it or not, it's obvious we get along better than the others, so there's not really point in pretending otherwise.
"I can tell you didn't get yours," I snark back with a glittering smile, and Ty chuckles throatily.
"I see that your cruelty is returning pretty quickly," he laughs, rolling his eyes. "It's nice to see you being bitchy again."
"Hey! I never stopped being a bitch, how dare you?!" I giggle, and we both laugh a bit as we walk over to the fire and sit down together. Ardin and Chavez sit to the side of us, while Cordelia is across the fire from us, and the Twelve girl is stirring the soup in the pot expertly. She hums some tune under her breath, and for a flash of a moment I imagine her in a tiny apartment with children clustered around her legs, but I push it away. She isn't a mother, she isn't a wife, she's an obstacle. Just an obsctale. Chavez shoots her a dirty look as her humming gets louder.
"Got something to say today, Twelve?" Chavez barks, drawing a throwing knife from the belt that never leaves his waist and flipping it end over end between his nimble fingers. "Wanna sing a little song for us?"
The Twelve girl doesn't respond, just quieting down and focusing on peeling her potatoes and stirring the soup. I watch as she grounds unusual amounts of salt and pepper into the pot, but I don't say anything. The potato soup was bland as hell last time, so I'm not upset she's trying to add more flavor than usual. Maybe she can tell how tense everything is between all of us and wants to have an actually delicious meal before her time's up in the arena. Whatever the reason is, she empties half of the salt and pepper into the cauldron before continuing to stir. No one else seems to really notice it, so I don't say anything. No one's going to kill her over too much pepper. Well. Maybe Chavez would, I take it back.
The silence stretches on for a while between all of us, and I know that no one wants to break the silence. The pack nearly split last night, Chavez almost went psycho and everyone's eyes were darting like crazy and I was still half-hysteric. Ty is the first one to speak, like he usually does now. He's the best mediator out of all of us, which is crazy given the headaches he's told me about. The fact he can manage to keep the egos in this group in check with all that pain makes me respect him even more than I would if I didn't have any idea about it.
"So," he sighs, wringing his hands in his lap. "What are we going to do now?"
"Good question," Ardin scoffs, staring intently into the flames of the fire. "We have to be smart about what we do next. There's a lot of potential moves that'll hurt us."
"The thing that hurts us is the fucking rifle, so let's not hide from the main event," Chavez growls, eyes narrowed angrily as he glares at Ardin. "Can we please talk about how you knew the little squirt from 10 had it, Ardin?"
"What the actual hell are you talking about?!" Ardin splutters back in return, and my eyes dart over to Ty's. Wordlessly, we communicate the same two words to one another.
Oh fuck.
Tyberios Palatium, 18
District Two Male
My eyes dart away from my shared grimace of horror with Trinity as I reach into my pocket. I pull out a shiny white metal container, popping open the cover. Inside sits the last headache pill, and without another thought I scoop it up and pop it into my mouth. The pounding in my head quickly recedes, and I let out an involuntary sigh of relief. I wanted to save the pill since I knew that Scylas probably won't be able to afford to send me many more this deep into the Games. However, if Chavez and Ardin are going to have their big rager right now, I need to be on full alert for it. If the split is about to happen, I need to be prepared and not distracted by the madness in my mind. Speaking of not being distracted, I quickly tune back into the fight exploding between Ardin and Chavez.
"Why did you want to stay back at the Horn yesterday? How did you know it was dangerous at the cabin?" Chavez hisses, standing up so he can loom over Ardin. She quickly scrambles to her feet so she isn't at a disadvantage if the fight becomes physical. "Don't lie. I know you had intel somehow."
"I had no earthly idea of what you're speaking of," Ardin snarls, her throwing hand gripped tight around the handle of a blade clipped into the belt at her waist. "I didn't know anything about what was there, I knew as much as the rest of you."
"Then why were you so adamant about staying here?!" Chavez shouts. "You didn't seem surprised to see that Zircon died either!"
I look around at the others. Carmen is cowering behind her cauldron, slowly stirring and crouching as low as she can as if the pot will protect her if a fight breaks out. Cordelia has her eyes wide open, swiveling around observantly. She's on full alert too, which won't help us de-escalate this situation. Trinity looks deep in thought as she stares at Ardin and Chavez as if she's soaking up their words. Her grip is tight on the handle of her battle axe however, letting me know she isn't distracted. She's ready to work with me if fighting breaks out and this group finally fractures.
"I didn't know anything would happen! I just had a...a bad gut feeling!" Ardin yells in response.
"That's quite some gut feeling, Varnell!" Chavez laughs loudly. "Tell us how you knew! Stop lying, come clean and we'll make it quick for you."
"You think you have their backing, Chavez?!" Ardin snickers, shaking her head. "You're acting like a psycho, and if you try to take me down, this pack will not hesitate to demolish you."
Personally, I'm not going to leap to either of their defenses if fighting breaks out. They are my two biggest competition after all. I don't dare say a word however; I'm not about to get entangled in this big blowup. These two are going to figure out like they did a couple days ago and calm down on their own, or they're going to fight and kill each other. I doubt there's going to be peace today. There's only so many times two Careers can bicker in the Hunger Games before the verbal turns physical. I sit and wait for the fight to continue, and therefore I'm surprised when a third voice breaks in before Chavez can retort.
"Why don't we all just calm down and eat breakfast?" Cordelia insists pleasantly, nodding to where Carmen has ladled out the soup into five metals bowls for all of us, leaving none for her.
No one says a word for a long moment. Chavez and Ardin both look shocked to see the girl who has obviously been out of her league in this pack so far speak up, while Trinity looks both annoyed yet relieved with Cordelia's comment. I know she can't stand her voice or something else stupid about her, but at least she isn't stupid enough to say anything to the 4 girl. Finally, Ardin speaks up, breaking the silence.
"Sure," Ardin says shortly, grabbing the bowl of potato soup out of Carmen's hands. "This can wait," she grunts, gesturing over to Chavez who snarls at her. However, neither says another word, and the rest of us take our bowls from Carmen silently.
As Cordelia passes out sporks, I hear tinkling above me. A silvery parachute descends from the sky, and I grin, standing to nab it out of the air. Carmen places my bowl of potato soup in front of me as I sit back down, and I see that Ardin, Chavez, and Trinity have also gotten parachutes. Ardin and Trinity both start digging into their meals, waiting to see what little goodie the sponsors have sent us after they finish their breakfast. Chavez glares at Ardin, obviously thinking of a way to reignite their fight as he swirls his soup with his spork without eating any. I crack open my parachute, excited to see what's inside. Maybe Scylas has gotten me some more headache pills now that my last one is gone.
The thing inside of the parachute perplexes me immediately. It's just a white plastic fork, flimsy and useless. I pick it out of the small silvery capsule of the parachute, twisting it around in my hands. Nothing special happens. It's a stupid white plastic fork, and there's nothing more too it. I pluck the note out of the parachute, reading it to myself under my breath.
"Look before you leap," I whisper, my brow scrunching up in confusion. Look before you leap? The arena's fucking flat, there's nowhere to leap from unless I climb on top of the Horn or hike out to the cabin and get on its roof. It must be a metaphor then, not literal. And why would Scylas send me a plastic fork? It doesn't make any sense. I turn to Trinity, and I see that Cordelia and Carmen are both receiving parachutes now.
"Look inside your parachute for me," I murmur worriedly. "All I got was a plastic fork."
"Loser!" Trinity chuckles as she opens her parachute, but the gleeful look quickly slides off of her face as she also pulls out an identical white plastic fork. She wipes the potato soup residue on her lips away as she observes it with confusion just like me. We look at her note, and it says the same exact thing as mine.
"What the hell does 'look before you leap' mean? It has to be some coded message, right?" Trinity asks, as baffled as I am. I just shrug in response, turning to the others.
"Did you guys all get white plastic forks in your parachutes with a note about looking out?" I ask everyone with panic building inside of me. This has to be a warning. Maybe the little 10 girl is coming back with her rifle, and these forks were the cheapest thing to send to us to get us to be on alert and stop fighting.
Everyone else pauses what they're doing and opens up their parachutes, and inside all of them are white plastic forks with the same exact note as mine. Everyone seems immediately on edge, and we all leap to our feet. Carmen is shaking in fear, tears starting to trickle down her face as she grips the blunt dagger we've given her close to her chest. The rest of us grab our weapons and start looking around the Cornucopia field for any attackers. I look hard out into the prairie, circling the entire clearing, but I see nothing but grass swaying in the breeze. Confused, I try to think hard about what was sent to us as I keep surveying the area for any potential threats. Why send plastic forks with that message at that moment? There's no one here, and we were only about to sit down and eat breakfast.
Then it hits me like a train, and I stagger. Breakfast. The plastic fork is about our breakfast. You can't eat soup with a fork. Look before you leap. Think before you eat. Something's wrong with our meal, maybe?! Somehow...it maybe got tampered with? With my mind racing 100 miles a minute, I jog over to Trinity with fear flashing in my eyes.
"Do you think...it was something to do with the soup?" I whisper as low as I can. We all got the forks, but that doesn't mean one of us wasn't up to something. Whoever did it could've sent their kid a fork too as cover-up. Or maybe one of the Outliers snuck in and did something in the night, I don't know. I didn't take guard shift last night so I have no idea if anything went on yesterday evening.
The moment I say the words, Trinity's eyes open wide, and she shakes her head ever so slowly.
"It can't be...I ate like half my bowl," she whimpers. "No. It can't be."
But the look we share as we both really begin to think about it says only one thing. It definitely was the soup. The pieces all click into place, it all makes total sense. Trinity looks like she's about to puke, and I turn to the others who have collected back around the cauldron, all confused about the notes and forks. I'm about to say something about my suspicion when I see Ardin's face start looking funny. She's standing by the fire, but she doubles over on the ground, her body beginning to shake. She looks up at me as her body trembles and all I see is utter pain and confusion in her eyes.
"What the fuck...is happening..." Ardin chokes out as she collapses on the ground, twitching harder. She can't work any more words out, and I watch in horror as foam starts to trickle from the corners of her mouth.
Carmen begins screaming as Ardin collapses, and my mind can barely keep track of what's happening. Ardin...Ardin's dying. She's poisoned. The soup. The soup is fucking poisoned. I was right. And someone here betrayed us. And I know exactly who it had to be.
I don't even think. I'm on top of Carmen in seconds, axe raised, fury in my eyes as I hear Ardin's rattling breaths behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Trinity stagger and support herself against the Cornucopia. Chavez looks horrified, having kicked his full bowl of soup into the dirt, while Cordelia looks worried.
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE SOUP?!" I scream in her face. Carmen is weeping, tears and snot dribbling down her face. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!"
"Please! Please, I didn't do anything!" Carmen begs, writhing underneath me. I keep her pinned down with my one free arm, and I lower my axe so it's above her right arm, ready to sever it clean off.
"Tell me what happened, or you're going to lose an arm," I growl. "You'll bleed out within the hour, and it won't be a fun experience for you."
Carmen just blubbers quietly, saying nothing, so I start bringing my axe down. It bites deep into her shoulder, and her bloodcurdling scream makes me pause as she pants and hits at me.
"STOP! STOP!" she begs, the pain of her arm being half cut off too much to bare. "CORDELIA CAME UP WITH THE PLAN!" Carmen sobs loudly. "SHE MADE ME PUT STUFF IN THE SAL-"
I don't even stop to hear the rest of it. With one chop of my axe, it's buried in her chest, the entire silvery blade cutting through the bone and flesh right into her heart. Carmen doesn't even know what hit her, falling still underneath me in moments. I rip the axe free, blood splattering across my face, and I stand up as Carmen's cannon fires.
Cordelia is fleeing into the grass, already almost there with just her spear and a bulging pack over her shoulder. She must've packed it all up last night in anticipation of her plan falling through. Chavez is flicking knives at her which she manages to dodge, roaring in anger, while Ardin is still quivering on the ground, great amounts of foam and bile having worked their way out of her mouth. Trinity is sitting against the Horn, looking similarly sick. Anger building up inside of me, I fling my axe at Cordelia. It zooms through the air, Carmen's blood flying off of it as it hurtles end over end towards the fucking traitor. Cordelia barely dodges out of the way before escaping into the grass. I howl in fury as she disappears and the blade of my axe buries itself in the mud, and in moments I have no idea where she is. She's so fucking short that I can't tell where she went, the grass completely hiding her.
I don't bother to go grab my axe; Chavez is staring in shock at the place where Cordelia escaped, while Carmen's dead and both Ardin and Trinity are probably well on their way to the grave. As I run over to them to check on them, Ardin gives one last twitch and then her cannon fires. I look down at my District partner, who was too bossy and too smart and too much of a threat but was still a friend to me. My gut twists as I see the fluids around her and the way her face looks like she wanted to scream but couldn't get one to come out. She's gone, though, so I don't stop to crouch by her side. I run to Trinity, collapsing next to hear. She immediately leans against me, her breathing ragged and her eyes bloodshot.
"I'm...I'm dying, Ty," Trinity rasps, her body beginning to shake in my arms. I squeeze her tighter, as if that will somehow get the fucking poison out of her. "I'm gonna die."
"Chavez, look for something in the Horn!" I command, my voice a furious roar. Chavez looks up at me from where he's been grinning slyly at Ardin's corpse, probably thrilled that he came out on top of their rivalry even tho he never even put a hand on her. When he looks up at me, I think he's tempted to kill me and flee now that the pack is officially splitting. He looks at me for a long time, with Trinity quivering in my arms, and shakes his head.
"This alliance is shot, dude," Chavez sighs, shaking his head. "I know you love her, but she's just an opponent to me even if she's pretty. I'm heading out, you can look for whatever you think there is in that Horn. I think she's too far gone."
"She's not too far gone, you selfish fucking prick, help me!" I cry out. But Chavez doesn't listen. He grabs his belt of throwing knives, and he has the gall to take Ardin's from her corpse too, flipping over her dead body to unclip it. I'm so tempted to grab Trinity's axe and fling it at him, but I can't bring myself to remove my arms from around her shaking body. He grabs a pack full of water and rations too before turning towards me with a knife drawn from his belt. That's enough to make me remove myself from my closest ally. I quickly scoop up Trinity's axe, standing and pointing it at him before he can try to take me out with one of his knives.
"If we both throw, we both die," I hiss angrily. "Just fucking leave and we both get to live another day. The rifle's still out there, if we kill each other we're being dumb and letting that little girl win."
Chavez seems to consider what I've said for a couple of seconds before nodding shortly. He backs away slowly with his supplies until he's on the other side of the Horn from me. When he disappears out of sight, I hear his footsteps as he sprints across the mud. I walk around the Horn to make sure he's not sneaking up on me, but all I see is him disappearing into the tall grass just like Cordelia did minutes before.
When he's gone, I run back to Trinity. She's foaming at the mouth now and shaking more violently. I set down the axe and scoop her up in my arms, tears starting to prick in my eyes as I realize that this is really it. This is the end, Trinity is dying, the pack is broken, I'm never going to have her in my life again. She's crying too, the tears pouring down her face as she struggles to make out words. I wipe away the foam from her mouth with my t-shirt before bringing her close to my chest, rocking her back and forth in my arms in an attempt to give her some type of comfort as she dies. She looks so in pain and so pretty still, and it makes the tears in my eyes start to fall.
"I really fucking liked you, Trin," I gasp between sobs, stroking her beautiful platinum blond hair and looking directly into her icy blue eyes. "You're the smartest, strongest woman I've ever met in my entire life."
"You're...not so...b-bad your...yourself, Ty," she manages to choke out with a weak attempt at a smile as I cuddle her closer to me. "You were...be-best friend a g...girl could a...ask for in a...arena."
"You too," I whisper, wiping the tears from her face as she starts to shake harder. "I'm going to keep fighting for you every second that I'm in here till I come home."
"T...tell Esqui...quiria I'm so...sorry," Trinity sobs, crying harder now. "I...was...a dis...disappoint...ointment."
"You weren't," I insist, stroking her hair again in comfort. "You were amazing, Trinity. You were everything out here."
"J-just hold me, T-ty," she whispers, curling up close to me.
I don't know how long it takes for her to die. She doesn't say anything after that, shaking and foaming at the mouth too much to muster out more words. Maybe it's five minutes, an hour, I don't know. All I know is that I hold her tight to me until the shaking stops, her body goes slack, and her cannon fires. It takes three electrical pulses from the Gamemakers to get me to stand up and let go of her body after she's dead, and by then I might be screaming a little, I don't really know. All I know is I'm sitting on the edge of the mud patch of the Cornucopia field as they lift away the bodies of Carmen, Ardin, and Trinity, watching as the girls disappear into the glimmering sunlight above. All I know is this pack is ruined, and I'm alone, I'm alone at this Horn where six people were sleeping and fighting and living together an hour earlier.
I want to scream louder now, because we have officially lost these Games. The pack has split earlier than it has in recent memory, there's only three of us left, really only two because Cordelia is a no-good half baked excuse for a Career. There's a little girl with a rifle out there and too many strong Outliers for us to face all by ourselves now that we're all going solo. We've failed, the pack has failed, I have failed, and my friends are dead, and I'm going to be dead. The pain and horror washes over me and it takes too long to drag myself back into the Cornucopia and stop the tears from coming down my face.
When I finally collect myself, it's past noon, and I force myself to organize the supplies in the Cornucopia to take my mind off of the pain and horror of this morning. I throw the bowls and cauldron and the rest of the fresh food into the grass, too worried about its possible contamination to ever use it again. I'm scared to touch any of the water and jerky too, but I'm not about to destroy all of my food and water here. Once that's done, I search the Horn relentlessly for any other signs of what happened, trying to ignore the patches of mud that are slick with blood outside.
By nightfall I'm about to give up when I kick over a crate I thought was empty at the back of the Horn in frustration. Out tumbles several little vials, each with the Capitol seal on them. I pull out the wooden rack inside of the crate that the vials were in, and under each place there is a name of the toxin that is inside each vial. I look at them, these Capitol poisons that the rest of us overlooked or that Cordelia somehow hid, and my stomach turns. A couple of the vials are completely empty. I gingerly scoop them all up into the crate and then set the crate on fire, tossing it onto embers and stoking the flames to live. Night begins to set in earnest as I watch the flames crackle and consume the little bottles of liquid that ended my friends' lives.
As I'm about to go to sleep, curling up alone in the mouth of the Cornucopia, a little silvery parachute twinkles as it drifts down and lands in front of me. I pick it up carefully, and I half expect there to be another plastic fork inside of it, something from the Capitol to spite me. Instead, it's another tin of my headache pills, although there are only two inside. I tuck them preciously in the pocket of my shorts before reading the note from Scylas.
Stay strong, Ty. You have more inside of you then you believe.
I hope I really do, because the headaches have started to come back with full force, the aching pains slamming against my forehead. I don't dare waste more of my pills no matter how upset I am about everything that's gone on today. I have to power through this, I have to avenge Trinity and Ardin and show the world why we all came out here to fight. I have to find Cordelia and gut her like the coward she is, find the Outliers and rip them to shreds, mince Chavez to pieces and make him realize he's not the king of the world. I have so much more to do. I have to prove to Two that choosing me was the right decision, that I can come home to them. However, I can't get any of it done if I'm light on sleep, so I make myself go to bed before the anthem even plays. There's no point in watching it; all I'll see is Trinity's face taunting me with her dazzling smile that will never exist again. Her smile is already imprinted in my brain forever, so I let myself drift off, hoping as hard as I can that the violence of what happened today won't follow me into my dreams.
Libby Miles, 16
District Six Female
I wake up to the sound of a cannon. The moment I open my eyes, I know I've slept too long. The sun has fully risen in the sky by now, although it's not even noon yet. The air is already dry and warm, a slight breeze ruffling the short stalks of grass around me. I'm still out on the fringes of the arena where the grass is at ankle height. It's the sixth day now, if I haven't lost count already, and I've yet to see any other tributes or face much danger at all. I just wander through the short grass for a couple hours every day and lay down for the rest of it, conserving energy and wondering when they're going to sicc the Careers or mutts on me. I've gotten lucky, people have been dying almost every day, so the Capitol must be having their fun and they're content to leave me be for the time being. I don't really complain, I know the next time I have a run in with anything else that has a pulse I'm probably toast, so I'm enjoying the time I have left even if it's in a bland prairie.
With all these hours alone out in the stuffy summer air and the scratchy golden grass, I've been starting to piece together my life back home. We've been in the arena for almost a week now; my Torcido's syndrome from using dirty morphling is almost gone now. I haven't heard Anaya's voice at all in two days, and hours go by where I don't see anything out of the ordinary. Now my hallucinations are mostly pale flickers of movement on the horizon or shadows that don't exist, barely there things that will fade with time. I'm almost back in complete control of my mind, which is as exciting as it is scary. Now that my mind is more clear than fuzzy, I've been doing my best to figure out what my life really was like back at home, as opposed to what I imagined it was.
I used to think I was a straight A student, but I know that has to be a load of bullshit. I was probably barely passing my classes. I always wondered why I didn't really have any friends, blaming it on my random rambling under my breath to Anaya, but really it probably was because I was an obvious junkie. I thought I did morphling a handful of times when I was thirteen when Anaya died and went to rehab, but I'm not even sure if I really went to rehab. The memories of the white walled rooms and too-kind hospital staff are still so vivid to me, so maybe I did go and I just relapsed. I think back to my parents, and the thought of the daughter I was back at home makes my heart crack and shrivel. After Anaya died, I basically became a walking corpse. I bet me dying here in this arena won't be as much of a gut punch as it is for other parents because they've known I've been walking on the brink of death of years now.
The one thing I can't really figure out is how Anaya actually died. I know she did die back when I was thirteen years old; that's when I started using morphling, and everything before that is solid and real in my memories. When I was in the midst of my Torcido's, I was convinced they found her body without a blemish on it, just not breathing, but now I'm not so sure. Whenever I think hard about it, I feel pain inside of me, and I get flashes of blood and screams and crunching bone. I don't know what that means except that Anaya probably did not die peacefully in her sleep. I probably blocked out how she really died to protect myself from the nightmarish memory, but now I can't unlock it. I know it'll hurt to find out what it is, but there's almost no chance I'm coming out of here alive, so I wanna remember my real life as much as possible before I kick the bucket.
I'm shocked out of my thoughts as another cannon fires. Two deaths this early in the morning? Maybe they tracked down an alliance, or there's some arena phenomenon going on. I stand up and survey the land around me, but I see nothing except the faraway glint of the Cornucopia miles away and the rippling sea of golden grass. My mind wants to leap to the exciting conclusion: the Career pack has split, giving all of us Outliers that had snuck by so far a chance to go home. I don't let myself get excited, however. It's probably another two defenseless kids like me getting gutted by the Careers, even if that boy from One was in the sky alone yesterday. That sent a thrill through me, but it was probably a one off thing. The Careers are fearsome this year, and this is their type of arena. It's not a year for frail girls like me who can do nothing but hide and hope.
A third cannon fires sometime later, and I let myself hope a little more. Three cannons close together means at least one Career's probably dead. That, or the Careers now make up a majority of the tributes left in the arena. That thought makes me shiver down to my core, but then I really think about it. Goddamn. We're at the Final 9 now. There's only eight other tributes left now standing between me and going home. One more kid dies, and they'll go talk to my family. A camera crew will squeeze into our house and ask my parents when I turned into a morphling addled psycho. I'm guessing part of the reason they've left me around is because I mumble aloud about my realizations sometimes, and they must think I've gone cuckoo, or that I've been cuckoo all along. I did talk to myself on the stage when I got Reaped after all. Whatever. The fact that home isn't too far away is...oddly comforting. I know I'm still going to die, but the hope inside of me doesn't shrivel like I expect it to. There's a real chance for me now, especially if some of those cannons were Careers. Maybe I can make it home to my parents and explain everything and actually figure out a life where I'm living it completely me.
To get home, however, I'm going to need more supplies, and I'm running dangerously low. I only have two bottles of water, and the first is all done while the second one is almost gone despite how I've been trying to ration it. I have a couple more packs of jerky, but my stomach still rumbles with hunger even after I let myself eat a few pieces every day. I have a tiny throwing knife in my pack that would be practically useless in a fight, but it's the only weapon I have. And then there's a coil of rope in my bag too. I'm tempted to take it out because it's pretty heavy, but it might become useful later somehow. Besides that, I don't have anything besides my muddy brown pack and the clothes on my body. I need to find a water source soon, because I am not dying of dehydration out here. I've seen what happens to the tributes who try to go without water, and it's not pretty. I know I'm going to die most likely, but I'd rather not die in that fashion, so I make myself get moving.
After an hour or two of crawling through the short grass, I surprise myself by spotting some large pools of water a distance away. I drain the last drops of water from my water bottle and jog over to the pools eagerly. Steam rises off of them, but it doesn't smell that bad. The water is bubbling slightly, but that just means it's being boiled for me so I don't die. I'm a bit hesitant, but the water looks clear and my throat is already dry again. I pull out my two plastic water bottles and hold them under, watching as the air escapes and the warm water floods the bottles. Once they're full, I unscrew the cap of one and let the tepid water flood my mouth. It's a bit weird to be drinking warm water on a hot day, but it's still water and it soothes my scratchy throat. I drink almost the whole bottle before refilling it. I don't feel bad at all, the water isn't doing anything to me yet, and suddenly an idea comes to mind.
I'm caked in mud and dust from six days in this accursed arena, and the warm water seems just like a bath. I know it's not the smartest idea to take a relaxing soak in your water source, but my aching joints can't resist. I place my pack on the ground before climbing into one of the pools. I leave all my clothes on; the Careers would probably strip naked or down to their underwear at least, but no one wants to see my scraggly addict's body in all of its bony, pasty glory. I also want to get my clothes cleaned off too. I slide in and immediately gasp at how the warm water bubbles over my sore limbs and makes the tension in my shoulders relax. The grime on my skin and in my hair washes away as I splash the warm water all over my face. This is paradise, and the best part of these Games so far.
When I think that, I recall something Calla said to me on the last day before the Games. If something seems too good to be true in the arena, it probably is. That immediately makes me worried, and I decide I need to get out. If the water's poisoned, I'm going to die so there's no point, but this could be a place where mutts collect or a place where other tributes have been getting their water. I need to be safe, I've had enough time with my guard down and I'm cleaned off. It's time to get out.
As I wade to the edge of the pool, I hear a faint rumbling, and the bubbles start to stream violently to the surface. I know immediately that this whole thing was a trap and that the Capitol has been playing me like a fiddle, letting me relax and enjoy myself before they kill me for doing nothing. I scream and try to claw my way out of the pool, but it's too late. The pool next to mine erupts, the steaming water shooting dozens of feet into the air in a fearsome torrent of boiling water. As I watch it in horror, halfway out of my pool, the word for these things pops into my mind from some textbook I read eons ago.
Geyser.
That's the last thing I think of before mine erupts too, tossing me into the air like a rag doll. I scream, tumbling end over end as the water sends me flying diagonally out of the pool. I roll through the air and sail back towards the ground, my screeches snatched from my mouth by the wind. I land on the ground with a series of sickening snaps and cracks, and I begin to sob as pain blossoms along my right side on which I've landed. I can barely move, and I squeeze my eyes shut as visions flash across my mind's eye.
Anaya is screaming as the gang members leap from behind the dumpster with silvery knives clenched tight in their fists, shouting for her to hand over her purse. She refuses, kicking out at them to try and protect me, and they don't hesitate to retaliate. They bring her down as she screams at me to run, to go get help, the blades slicing deep into her skin. Blood spurts across the cracked cement as my older sister and best friend wails in pain. I turn and run, screaming for help, but no one comes in time as I hear her bones snap and pop just like mine did moments earlier. They sound like the cannons in the arena, and I know right then and there that my sister is dead, and I couldn't save her in time. I could do nothing but stumble away too slow and scream like a baby while she let herself be killed to save me from the gang. I didn't save her. I practically killed her.
I sob for a long time with my eyes closed as the memory, finally revealed to me, swarms my mind and makes my heart beat too fast. The tears run down my face in thick rivulets, but I can't stop them. It takes too long to soak up the memory, to let myself remember it's in the past and I can't let it consume me. When I finally am able to push the painful memories out of my head, I feel the physical pain that's all over my body with my eyes still scrunched closed. I have to look at my injuries, even if I don't want to, and figure out what I can do to save myself.
When I manage to open my eyes, I see that the bone is sticking through my right forearm where it's snapped. Bile works its way out of my throat, the scant water and jerky I've been eating splattering across the dusty grass beneath me as my fingers weakly trace the sharp pains in my ribs. I've probably broken a few of those too. My legs miraculously don't seem too bad, although they ache badly with maybe a few little fractures or very bad bruises. The thing that scares me most is the bone peeking out of my arm, and it makes me gag again, although this time there's nothing left in my body to come up.
"Please," I beg Calla, staring at the clear blue sky with pleading eyes as blood drips from my broken arm. "Please, Calla. Please."
Some time later a parachute lazily drifts down from the sky, its chime dreamy and beautiful to me. I drag myself over to where it has landed with my good arm, shuddering as I crack it open awkwardly with my left hand. Inside is a roll of soggy bandages, soaked in some sort of medicine. I pick out Calla's note carefully as tears prick my eyes from how much my body hurts from all of this movement.
Wrap it tight with this, it won't fix it fast but it's all I can afford. Don't give up, you've already impressed me greatly, Libby. - Calla
"I love you, Calla," I whimper, brushing the tears that fall from my eyes as I clutch the note to my chest. I slip it into my pocket before gingerly picking up the little roll of medicated bandages. I stuff the collar of my shirt into my mouth as I start to roll the bandages around my arm. The pain is fearsome, making my vision swim and my eyes water. However, I keep myself steady until I've wrapped the entire roll around my arm. The bloodied, torn skin and broken shard of bone sticking out is now hidden. I doubt I've done it right at all, but the wounded is covered up for now, and that's all that matters. The tears still drip down my cheeks though, hot and sticky. If I had any chance of winning a fight in these Games, it's all but gone now.
The rest of the day trickles by painfully slow. My body aches incessantly and bruises blossom in browns and purples across my pale skin. I see nothing else, just the blue sky and the blazing sun and the golden grass. The throbbing pain overtakes everything, and I can't help but groan and whine in pain every now and then as I feel the bandages around my arm starting to knit the bone and skin back into place ever so slowly. My ribs still hurt terribly, but there's nothing I can do for them but breathe lightly and tough through the pain.
Eventually night falls, and stars sprinkle across the sky, their artificial light flickering across the pitch black night. I focus on trying to discern constellations from the random dusting of fake stars that changes every night, making animals and plants and people out of the pin pricks of light until I hear the anthem begin. The silvery seal of the Capitol overtakes the sky, filling most of the area and blocking out the stars. I don't try to salute, my arm still in too much pain for me to lift it to press my hands against my sternum. I hold my breath to see who comes up first, hoping it's all Careers with every molecule in my body.
A small smile breaks out onto my face when the girl from One flashes across the sky, and then she is followed by the girl from Two, making my small smile morph into a wide grin. Two more Careers dead! The last one is the mother from Twelve, Carmen. I feel a twinge of sadness for her, remembering her little baby curled in her arms during the interviews and thinking of any other children she might have at home. She seemed so sweet, but if she's the only Outlier who died today, maybe she took down two Careers with her. If she did, she did a great service to us all and surprised the nation. Hopefully she injured some of the others too. I smile at her as her motherly face fades from the sky and all that is left is the fake stars once more.
My body is broken, and I feel like all hope should be lost. I'm weak with too many fractures and not enough supplies or strength to last to the end of these Games. Yet I can't give up yet. Anaya died for me, I can remember that now, and so many other kids have died in this arena that didn't deserve to. One of us that didn't choose to come here, one of us that was forced here by the Capitol and the Peacekeepers and President Snow should get to emerge alive. So many sacrifices have been made here, in this golden grass, and in my world back home to ensure I will survive. I doubt I'll make it out of here alive, but I have to try. No one thought I'd make it out of the Bloodbath alive, and I've been here for a week. I never thought Anaya's voice would leave my head, but I can finally see my past and present clearly and she hasn't spoken to me in days. Miracles happen all the time, and maybe I'll get lucky enough for one to happen to me and get me out of here alive.
A/N: Whew. That was a crazy chapter. I've been building to this final showdown with the Careers for so long, and I actually rewrote all of Tyberios's POV because I wasn't happy with it, and that's why this chapter took forever. I still am not sure I executed it the way I wanted to, but I'm happy enough with it and I think it still conveyed all of the drama and action I wanted it to. It's so sad to see the Careers finally break because I've been building to this point for four years, and I've loved their alliance so much with all its intricacies. But all things must come to an end. I hope you guys enjoyed this, we're getting so close to the end, only 9 tributes left!
12TH: CARMEN IONIQUE-ASTRON, 12F - Killed by Tyberios
Carmen was a tribute I really enjoyed writing. People didn't always like her because she was cliched or unrealistic, but I'd never written a character like her before so it was new and exciting for me. My ideas for her changed so much; originally she was gonna die before the Games began in child birth! However, over time I had this idea of Cordelia poisoning the pack and getting away with it even though the plan goes a bit awry, and I felt like she would need an accomplice to pull it off. Carmen was perfect for it, and she had the excuse to bring her in due to her being a new mother. I thought her being in the pack added an extra element that made a great alliance even more complex and chaotic. It was a blast writing her even if I made her life living hell xD
11TH: ARDIN VARNELL, 2F - Killed by Carmen and Cordelia
When I had the idea of Cordelia posioning the pack, I knew Ardin would be a victim of it. I never disliked Ardin, but I also never saw her as my Victor. I felt like she was too similar to Serephina and was someone who would help bring the Career alliance to its breaking point but wouldn't make it out to the other side. Her rivalry with Chavez was literally amazing to write, and while she wasn't my favorite character, without her this whole story would be a lotttt different and I'm happy with how I wrote her. She just got unlucky enough to be the only one to eat all of her soup, but she was a driving force in this story and realistic Career which I loved.
10TH: TRINITY VEGAS, 1F - Killed by Carmen and Cordelia
Ugh, I loved Trinity. Say what you want about her, I really enjoyed her. She was a bit of a typical tryhard One female trying to break the blond bimbo stereotype, but I thought she was very realistic and she was a character I really liked. I wanted at least two Careers to go in the poisoning, and I knew I needed to break up the duo of Trinity and Tyberios to create drama and plot devices. Their friendship/almost romance, whatever you wanna call it, was really fun for me to write, and overall Trinity was a realistic Career who just didn't solve the riddle in time, and I loved writing her as well.
Kill Count:
Chavez Belasco: 3 (Baron, Jayce, Calico)
Trinity Vegas: 2 (Rufus, Gaia)
Zircon O'Dile: 2 (Soya, Millard)
Tyberios Palatium: 2 (Bernie, Carmen)
Cordelia Nile: 2 (Ardin, Trinity)
Carmen Ionique-Astron: 2 (Ardin, Trinity)
Ardin Varnell: 1 (Sage)
Fuji LaMac: 1 (Ivy)
Miriam Park: 1 (Zircon)
Arena Events: 1 (Luke)
I hope this chapter was as entertaining as I tried to make it; we're at the Top 9, getting closer and closer to the finale! I would love to hear how you think the rest of these Games are going to go; who's dying next and who's the Victor? I also promise any of the loose ends about the Career split up, like how the poisoning worked and stuff like that, will be cleared up in future chapters.
Thank you all for reading so much it means the world to me. Without y'all this wouldn't be any fun, and your feedback still means so much so thank you sincerely. This has been a crazy 4 year journey and it's going to be over soon hopefully which is so exciting. I can't wait to share the rest with you guys!
Until Next Time,
Tracee