"Runners"

A/N: And that is officially 7 updates in 7 days. I literally have no setting between writing 40k words a week and writing 0 words for 9 months apparently, but hey, hopefully we can ride out this streak all the way to the end, which would mean for a fun Christmas finale!

~I want to be pure, I want to be cured of this degenerative disease

These dark dreams and these lies that I believe~

Udon Chang, 16, District Eight

Udon sharpened his hatchet against the concrete wall, pretending to not pay attention as the rest of his alliance shifted between discussion and argument. Once they had run into sunlight, it wasn't the typical arena that had met them. Instead of nature, they had been dropped into a city. A ruined, abandoned city, with rusting cars blocking the roads and moss and vines overrunning everything. There was graffiti everywhere, marking the ground, walls, and doorways, all of them with vague warnings and pessimistic doomsday-ism.

They jogged for a solid mile before finally stopping, and they were now debating whether to stay on the street or enter into one of the buildings. Nikola was complaining about his back from lugging the crate for so long, but everyone else was mostly quiet, Udon included.

It wasn't shellshock, not like the other cowards in his alliance. His plan had been thrown out in the window with a single explosion. There was no giant fight, killing off his major competition and leaving him to backstab the remainders. His one alliance was entirely gone, and the other was completely intact, aside from the tiny girl from Two who had disappeared. Probably tried fighting Troy at the bloodbath and got cut in half, he figured.

"I get the feeling going into a building that has a door marked with a giant red X isn't a good idea," Ciera said, her voice shaking. The blood had dried in her hair and on her grey t-shirt, and the smell was terrible. Not that the fresh air was much better by itself- there was a plenty repugnant stench of death even without her walking beside them.

"So, what, we just keep on running until what?" Nikola retorted. "This is a city, with buildings to hide in, there's no way they make it too large. I'm surprised we haven't reached the end already."

"We're probably near it," Talon mused. He went up to the building, attempting to peer through the window, which was boarded up like every other first floor one they had seen.

"We have numbers, and it's still daylight," Nikola urged them on, setting the crate down for a moment. "We'll have to start exploring inside eventually. Now is as good a time as ever."

Udon snorted. "If we're boutta go fight some fucked up mutts or something, can we at least eat first? I'm fucking starving."

"How are you hungry after that?" Maya asked, looking disgusted as she continued to attempt to scrub the dried blood off of her hands with her t-shirt which had conveniently been dark red to begin with.

Udon shrugged.

"We'll wait until tonight to eat," Talon said firmly, though he nodded towards the crate. "We should take stock of what we have first, though. I somewhat doubt there's running power lines still, so some flashlights might be handy to have before we go exploring."

Ciera grumbled in disagreement, stepping away from the rest of them as she folded her arms over her chest and watched the streets for movement. According to Talon the girl from Five was the only other one to leave through their exit, and while normally that would worry Udon a bit, the arena quelled that worry pretty handily. There was no forest to blend into, no trees to pick them off with from afar.

Nikola popped open the crate, and the rest of them crowded around for a better look inside. Udon felt his mouth watering, ready to dig into whatever Capitol delicacies were hidden inside. With only six crates in total, there had to be something real good inside. Those expectations plummeted as soon as it was cracked open.

Inside was a collection of meager supplies. There were seven batteries, six sticks of jerky, a can of nails, a few pairs of scissors, some binding and tape, a rag, a lighter, and a bottle of alcohol.

Nobody said anything for a moment. Nikola reached in, continuing to dig around, pulling things out as he searched for something hidden, something more. But that was all there was. There were five of them, and they had jack shit between the lot of them. Udon's stomach growled at him.

"Maybe they gave us more stuff in our backpacks?" Maya asked weakly. They all knew their bags were far too light for there to be much of use in there, but they searched them in unison regardless.

Inside, Udon found just five items. A spare t-shirt, a water bottle, a flashlight, a dagger, and weirdest of all: a gas mask.

"Thank god," Maya uttered, holding the dark red t-shirt high in the air. "I thought I was gonna smell like Arkus for the next few weeks." She shoved it back into her backpack, looking thoroughly pleased with the find.

Talon was still looking at the gas mask, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he examined it carefully. There was no hint at why it was given to them, though. No note or hidden instructions.

"I don't like that," Nikola murmured.

Talon shook his head, stuffing it back into his pack and then tossing the rest of the materials from the crate into his bag as well. Nobody offered any resistance to him carrying the weight. Even if he did decide to make off with all the goods, it wasn't as if they'd be missing out on much.

"Well then, let's do this," he said with a sigh. He took point, a loose grip on his sword as he walked up to the door with the X. It looked like a townhouse, three stories high and narrow, and the red paint on the outside was fading.

Nikola was next in line, awkwardly holding his dagger as he kept his distance from the only trained fighter of the group. Udon was next with his hatchet, and he couldn't help but wish the psycho girl were there to take the lead without question. Maya went behind Udon, her being the one person that he trusted to not literally stab him in the back at the first opportunity. Ciera waited outside, promising to warn them if someone was coming.

Udon steeled himself up, shaking out the jitters as he rolled his shoulders, preparing for a fight. Something about it all seemed off, though. The lack of a cornucopia, just weapons and those crates, and then within those crates hardly anything at all. Was just a few pieces of jerky the only food they would give them? And there was no iodine for cleaning water. And then tying it all together, the strangest thing of all: the backpacks. Why would they give every tribute starting items? Especially one as useful as a dagger. They wanted every single tribute to have a weapon, and even stranger: a gas mask. Something was wrong.

Talon kicked the door open, and Udon nearly bit his tongue as he hastily followed after, half-expecting to see a swarm of mutts to come storming out, tearing them to pieces. Instead, they were met with nothing. Talon shone his flashlight around the room, and it looked like a normal townhouse. There was a couch, a cracked television, a small kitchen, all of it covered in dust and long abandoned.

They swept through the next two floors, but found much of the same. A basement that was mostly empty aside from a few weights, and a top floor with three small bedrooms. No hiding monsters, just an empty house.

They all met back up at the kitchen on the first floor, and Talon set down his sword, his eyes shining with interest and curiosity as he looked around the room.

"Would you look at that," he said amusedly.

Maya shook her head. "This place gives me the creeps."

"It's just an empty house, not sure what's so fucking creepy about that," Udon said dismissively. He opened the fridge, and wasn't particularly surprised to find it empty. He slammed the door shut.

Maya's expression darkened. "Not completely empty."

"The fuck are you talking about?" Nikola asked, and his voice barely hid the fear that was obviously present. "We checked all the rooms, there wasn't anything."

Maya looked at the rest of them oddly, scratching the back of her neck. "Well, the bedroom that I checked. . ." she trailed off, looking at the ground. "there was something there you guys might want to see for yourself."

Udon's blood went cold, and he looked over at Talon, who was staring at Maya curiously. Somehow, he didn't look the least bit worried. Udon tightened the grip on his hatchet.

"Let's see it then," Talon said.

Maya nodded her head solemnly, leaving her dagger on the kitchen counter as she led them up the steps. She looked uncharacteristically dour as she trudged up the steps to the top floor, motioning to the master bedroom. Talon walked in first, full of confidence and assuredness. He paused at the door frame for a long moment, then turned and stepped out, shaking his head.

"Nothing worth seeing there," he said quietly. He walked down the steps, and Nikola and Udon exchanged a confused look. Hesitantly, Udon stepped in after, walking into the dimly lit room. He felt his heart lurch up into his throat as he did so, and for the first time since the Games had started, he felt real, genuine fear.

On the bed, two skeletons held a smaller skeleton between them, a stuffed animal clutched in the arms of the child. A revolver was clutched in the hands of one of the larger skeletons. Somewhere in the far distance, a high-pitched, croaking scream echoed through the city.

Udon stumbled out, slamming the door shut behind him.

Jamie Curie, 12, District Ten

Jamie's hands were still shaking. He had expected the bloodbath to be nerve-wracking, but he hadn't been ready for that. Even if he had been, he wasn't sure that would have helped. He should have been grateful, the explosions caused so much chaos and disorientation that he and the rest of his allies were able to slip away unnoticed. Denver and Julian had been on either side of Jamie, and Denver had to shake both of them back into their senses and practically drag them to the exit.

It was only once they got to the door that they noticed Earhart wasn't with them. Denver had nearly run back for them, but took all of three steps before realizing that they were gone. There was no way to know which exit they had taken, and they had no time to find out. Jamie had to take Denver by the hand, dragging him away so that they didn't get caught lingering.

Denver was a nervous mess for the next half hour, chewing on his fingernails as they walked through the creepy, abandoned streets. Nobody was willing to be the one to lift the mood. When the canons finally came, they all paused, tensing up as they waited to hear how many were already dead.

Boom!

Boom!

Boom!

Boom!

Jamie waited for more, but none came. Four canons, an entire bloodbath and only four were dead, and three of those had died before the countdown even ended. Jamie almost laughed. For how horrifying and terrifying that experience was, there were still nineteen more tributes left standing between him and victory.

Denver let out a relieved sigh, sitting down on the curb for a moment as he wiped his brow. "Earhart is still alive," he said.

"We'll never find her," Julian said glumly, stealing the words from Jamie's mouth. Jamie wasn't particularly broken up about the loss. They were a decent enough ally, but didn't really bring much to the table.

Denver dragged a hand down his face. Jamie sat down next to him, giving him a reassuring half-smile. "We don't know that," he offered weakly.

"So neither of you saw where they might have ran?" Denver asked, fatigue already in his voice.

Jamie and Julian both shook their heads glumly. Jamie spun his backpack around, fiddling with the zipper for a moment before looking up to Denver. "Maybe there's something in our backpacks that will help us? Like a map?" Naivety dripped from his voice.

Denver smiled, not having the heart to deny Jamie as he unzipped his own backpack, dumping the contents onto the mossy street. There were only five items: a t-shirt, a flashlight, an empty water bottle, a dagger, and a gas-mask. Jamie's interest piqued at the last item. If there was a gas-mask, that meant deadly fumes of some sort, something that he could use to his advantage. Maybe he could 'accidentally' crack an ally's mask? The opportunity was there, and Jamie felt his hopes lifting slightly.

"We should find shelter," Denver said, stuffing the items back into the bag, zipping it up, and standing back up. The three spun in a circle, taking in their surroundings. The city was hard to traverse. There were buses and cars blocking the street, the signs had moss growing over them so that they were unreadable, and half the buildings were already falling apart. It was like a maze.

The area they were in now was an intersection, and there was nothing in any direction that Jamie could recognize, it was all just brick. Even behind them the warehouse had long left their view. The fact that nobody had caught up to them and their turtle's pace was a good sign that nobody else had exited through their route. From what Jamie could tell most of them ran for the fire door, while the Career pack left through the main entrance. Unless the District One pair was already heading out hunting, there would be nobody behind them for a little while.

Denver seemed to reach the same conclusion, nodding his head affirmatively. "Let's head down a little bit, and then bunker down. We won't want to stay in a building right on an intersection, too much traffic. Let's head one block down so we're away from any traffic coming from the warehouse."

Julian and Jamie both nodded their heads, and Jamie reached into his backpack, pulling out the flashlight and clutching onto it tightly. Something about this arena gave him the creeps, and even if a flashlight wouldn't help him against whatever was lurking in the shadows, it made him feel a little bit safer.

They finally settled on what looked to be a convenience store, the neon sign shattered on the ground so that the name of it was lost. Nearly the entire wall was boarded up glass, all except for the glass door, which allowed them to peer in and find that no tributes or mutts were waiting for them. It probably wasn't the best idea to stay somewhere that could be looked into from outside, but Jamie wasn't jumping at the idea of exploring some dark, boarded up house.

As soon as they were inside, Denver found a handful of wooden boards, along with a hammer and nails, and went to work boarding up the front door. It was clear from watching that he didn't have any idea what he was doing, and so Jamie decided to leave him to it, and take a bit of time to explore.

Enough light still came in from outside for the store to be visible, but Jamie flicked on the flashlight anyways, not liking the eerie darkness of it all. There wasn't much to it, just a few rows that had been emptied of nearly everything. Still, Jamie managed to scrounge up three granola bars that were hidden beneath one of the shelves, as well as a bag of chips that was probably stale. There were a few other things, toothbrushes and tampons and lighters, and Jamie sat down to sort them into useful and useless piles, but before he could something else caught the corner of his eye.

In the corner of the room, nearly hidden by an empty stand of energy drinks, there was a bathroom, with two wooden boards nailed across the front of it. Across the boards, black spray paint tagged it with a short message.

DON'T OPEN.

A shudder ran down Jamie's spine, and he walked closer to the door, checking to make sure the nails had been put in correctly. He cleared his throat, suddenly wanting nothing more than to pick a new hiding spot.

"Denver-"

A high-pitched, croaking, inhuman scream echoed from somewhere in the near distance. Jamie jumped, bumping over the stand and knocking it into the door. Something slammed onto the other side of the door, and Jamie leaped backwards. The door rocked as it was slammed into over and over, a quiet, low-pitch growl like nothing Jamie had ever heard came from behind.

Jamie was frozen in place on the ground as Denver and Julian sprinted over to him, looking between him and the door that looked to barely be holding itself up. Jamie wanted to scream, to tell them they needed to get out, now, but when he opened his mouth nothing came out.

Denver kneeled over, helping Jamie onto his feet as the three of them backed away from the door. "We," Denver said beneath his breath. "We should probably leave."

Jamie nodded his head furiously, and the three rushed over to the front door, luckily not having to tear down any boards as they were still laying on the ground. Denver ushered them out, slamming the door shut behind him as they sprinted away, not slowing to a jog until they were a full block away. It was another two blocks until they took a moment to catch their breath, and Jamie realized he had forgotten the granola bars back in the store.

He decided not to mention it.

River, ~14, District Five

River was confused. Before they had put her into the tube, and lifted her into the arena, her stylist had told her that she would go up, and after sixty seconds, a gong would ring. After that happened, the stylist had told her, she would need to run as far away as possible.

They hadn't warned her about the explosions. They reminded her of the ones that had been dropped on the village, and it froze her for a long moment. It was only the sound of the gong that had stirred her into action. She forgot the advice her stylist had given her, and when she saw a bow with a quiver of arrows standing just a few feet in front of her, she couldn't resist running to take it.

Once she had that in her hands, she was reminded of the advice, and ran. She ran for as long as she could manage, her bare feet (she had slipped out of her stiff boots and abandoned them the moment she was outside) crunching against the mossy street as they carried her farther and farther away.

Now it was nearly nighttime, and she had finally taken a moment to pause and take things in. She wasn't back in the forest, like Audra had told her she probably would be, but it was close. It was a city, with buildings and cars, but not one like the Capitol. There were no people, and it looked like there hadn't been for a long time.

Everything looked the same to her, just brick and concrete. She wasn't sure where she was supposed to go, what she was supposed to do. So she kept on walking. At one point the street was flooded, green water going down deeper than River could stand, and it was there that River decided she wouldn't go any further.

She turned right, and continued walking. As she did so she went through her bag again, digging through to try and figure out what it was she had. She still hadn't found any drinkable water that she could put into her bottle, and she had discarded the flashlight and strange mask a while back to make her bag lighter. She saw plenty fine through the moon and stars, and a beam of light wouldn't do anything but give away where she was, and erase her advantage. She held onto the t-shirt, though she doubted she would need it it didn't take up much weight.

River fiddled with the dagger, practicing swinging it lazily as she tested the weight and feel of it. She didn't like using knives, but Wanderer had made sure she knew how to. Distance wasn't always an advantage you would have, that was one of his many lessons he had taught her.

A long, yellow bus blocked the middle of a street, and River shimmied her way under, and lost her breath for a moment as she popped back up on the other side. The street ended, and a giant stretch of grass and trees filled her eyes.

A smile slipped onto her features as she walked towards it, having to hop over a short gate to get in. Inside flowers grew unattended to, and the trees blocked out the night sky, bushy green masses of leaves covering her like a blanket. It went on as far as she could see in every direction, though that was admittedly not very far with how tall the grass had grown and how dense the trees were. The grass ran against her waist as she shuffled through as quietly as she could, trying her hardest not to disturb any wildlife that lived there.

In the center of the woods was a small pond, the water not crystal clear but not the murky brown and green of the puddles in the streets either. River bent over, cupping her hands and testing a drink. It was cold, and the fresh water cleared her throat as she let out a grateful gasp. She took a few more sips before filling her bottle to the top, capping it, and placing it back into her bag.

A twig snapped.

River's eyes darted to her right, narrowing as she crouched down so that her eyes barely poked above the grass. The noise wasn't far away, no more than thirty feet, but a particularly dense grouping of trees blocked her from seeing anything more.

She drew an arrow from her quiver, letting her breathing slow and steady as she carefully stepped towards the noise, eyes darting down to her feet with every step to avoid stepping on any sticks or crinkly leaves.

A high-pitched scream came from just ahead of her, the same guttural, croaky, unfamiliar scream that had echoed throughout the whole city just a few hours before.

River froze.

The scream was picked up, a second and third joining in from River's left and right. It kept on spreading. Four, five, six, seven, and an eighth. Carefully, River set her arrow back into the quiver. The screaming died down, one at a time, and with that sound gone she could hear footsteps now, stomping all around her. Not towards her, but close enough that it was only a matter of time until whatever it was bumped into her and alerted the rest of the pack.

A tree a few feet away from her had footholds and low-hanging tree branches, and sending up a silent prayer that whatever animal was with her didn't know how to climb, she darted for the tree. She leapt into the air, foot sliding into its hold as her arms gripped onto a branch.

The screaming started up again, and behind her River heard rapidly approaching footsteps. Her heartbeat was rapid as she yanked herself up, legs flailing in the air as she desperately clung onto the branch, attempting to keep her balance. Just below, she heard something crash into the trunk, hard.

She wasted no time, balancing herself on her feet as she continued climbing, hoping to get herself high enough that she was out of sight, and hopefully out of mind. She tested her foot on a thin branch, and let out a muted squeal as it let out beneath her, leaving her gripping onto her handholds with all her might. She dangled her feet back in forth, letting out a breath as her foot dug itself into a hold. She used that to propel herself higher up, and from there it was easy climbing, slipping from branch to branch until she reached the thickest, sturdiest branch of the tree a solid forty-feet into the air.

When she looked down, all she could see were shadowy figures, clawing at the base of the tree as they continued to let out that bone-chilling screech. But more than the sound or even their presence just below her, one thing brought a shiver down River's spine as she held herself tightly to the trunk of the tree.

The shadowy outlines almost looked human.

Marquise Clifton, 18, District Eleven

Something seemed to be stirring in the shadows of the night. Marquise could feel it, and walking the streets had suddenly felt like tempting fate, challenging danger. Still though, Marquise didn't intend to run and hide. While he would have to find a place to rest for the night soon, he would walk for a little while longer. Surely if he came upon anybody else wandering the streets they would be in need of help.

That terrible screaming still rose up every once in a while. Right when it seemed like they were done for the night, another round would begin, and they would echo off of each other, coming from every direction. It seemed as if they were getting closer to him the further the moon rose into the sky, and Marquise got the feeling the Gamemakers were trying to send him a message.

He felt his fingers curling and uncurling around his bo-staff, his eyes scanning his surroundings watchfully. There were no street lights to assist him, but the stars were out bright, and provided enough light to see that the street he was on was empty for the time being. He was in an emptier part of the city, where there were less cars and buses parked and crashed in the road. Marquise was still pondering on whether that was a good or bad thing when he found his answer: a road block.

A complex system of concrete blocks and metal fences created a barrier that stopped any vehicles from passing through. To walk through it you would have to weave through a maze of concrete blocks, passing through some half-dozen chain-link doors before reaching the other end. A few buildings still bordered the street where the barriers were placed, and Marquise decided they would make a good place to bunker down. The fences were clearly there to keep something out, and so the bordering homes were about as safe a place as he was likely to find from what he had seen of the arena thus far.

His hopes died down when he tested the first of the doors in the chain link fence, and found that the lock had already been broken. Marquise cracked it open, wincing at the creaking noise it made as he did so. He slipped through as soon as it was wide enough for him, and then clamped it shut behind him, taking a bit of solace in the fact that only a human would be able to figure out how to open it.

Marquise avoided opening any more doors after that, opting to hop over the concrete barriers as he weaved his way to the center of the maze. He let his focus switch to the buildings, scanning over them to pick out the safest available option. He had it narrowed down between three choices when his thoughts were interrupted.

"Stop! Stop! Don't!" The girl's voice was cut off by a shrill scream that pierced Marquise's eardrums. Another, more familiar scream followed, the same one that Marquise had been hearing for the past few hours.

The girl let out another scream, and at the other end of the barrier, Marquise heard something bouncing off of the chain-link fence. That was enough to snap him out of his shock, and he took hold of his bo-staff, sprinting forward as he weaved through the maze as fast as he possibly could.

There was one, final scream, and this time it was cut off halfway through as something smacked against the fence again. Marquise picked up his pace, clinging onto hope as he slid over a barrier. He turned a corner, and through the chain-link fence saw the outline of a human crouched over another person who was laying down on the ground.

The first figure snapped its head up to Marquise, and through the darkness, he got a faint look that was enough to make bile rise in his throat. Red veins popped in the man's rabid eyes, the bottom half of their jaw ripped off while blood pooled their pale, cracked lips and hollow cheeks. Their entire body was twisted in an unnatural position, and a rancid smell came from them that was nearly enough to release the bile as Marquise had to bite it back. He lifted his head to scream, and Marquise saw that part of his throat had been torn out, revealing the fleshy insides.

"Listen to me, be calm," Marquise said, attempting his most soothing voice. His eyes fluttered to the girl that was lying on the ground, curled into a ball. He couldn't see if she was hurt, but the blood on the man's mouth gave Marquise a decent enough idea.

The man screamed in response, slamming himself against the fence as he scratched against it, attempting to get through to Marquise, his hands reaching through and clawing out inches away from Marquise's face.

"Nobody here has to get hurt. If you're hungry, I can help you find some food. But I cannot let you harm that person." The man slammed himself into the fence again. "And I cannot allow you to harm me."

Marquise felt a slight shake in his hands, and swallowed a lump in his throat. "I'm coming out to help this person that you've harmed. She needs my help to make sure that she's okay. I don't want us to fight, but if you force me to, I will not allow you to kill me or this person, do you understand?"

It still showed no sign of comprehension, screaming and clawing out at Marquise. Not like a human, but like a rabid animal. It brought a chill down his spine, but he didn't let it deter him. Something being hard didn't relieve him of his duty to help someone who's in need. All life is precious. That was his belief. He couldn't help but wonder if the thing he was looking into was alive at all.

Marquise walked over to the door, unsurprised to find the lock broken just like the other one. It was waiting for him at the door now, and Marquise sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to center himself. Then, he flipped the latch, and kicked the door open.

The man was forced back, but didn't seem to react to it in any further way, scrambling forward as soon as it could gather itself and charging to Marquise. He didn't even have time to shout out a warning before he was forced to swing out with his staff.

He swung harder than intended, and Marquise was unsure if it was fear or nerves that did it. There was a cracking noise as the man spun around, and Marquise's heart dropped for a moment. Then, the man shot back up to his feet. His head was twisted at an unnatural angle, but it didn't even seem to notice, still having a feral look in its eyes as it charged him again.

"I'm sorry," Marquise muttered softly, and he jabbed out with the staff again, pushing it back as the creature tried desperately to bite and claw at Marquise. He continued pushing it back, then finally pulled his staff back, and swung at its head with all of his might. The man dropped to the ground with a thud, and Marquise didn't spare a second glance as he ran back to the girl. He threw his staff over the top of the fence and took the girl in his arm, pulling her to her feet and half-leading, half-dragging her through the door. He heard the screaming from behind him again, and footsteps too, and he picked up his pace, shoving the two of them through the gate and slamming it shut behind, latching it as soon as the creature came slamming into the fence again.

Marquise collapsed to the ground, panting for breath as he stared up at the sky. His hands shook, and he brought them up to find them bloody, and tightened them into fists.

The girl whimpered softly beside him, and he shot up, scrambling to roll her onto her back. When he did he finally got a good look at the girl, and recognized her immediately as Persephone Saskia, the distant girl from District Ten.

And Persephone was missing a chunk of her throat.

Marquise cursed quietly to himself, and quickly stood up to go find his backpack, maybe find use his spare t-shirt as a way to staunch the blood loss. As he went to stand, something scratched feebly at his ankle, and the girl let out another whimper. He looked down, and the girl was staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes that were wet with tears.

Her hands shook as they reached out to him, and he kneeled down, attempting to hide the shake in his own hands as he clasped onto her bloodied hand, holding tightly. He held onto her for a minute before her hand stopped holding tightly to his, and her shallow breathing faded even quieter.

The fifth canon of the day boomed, and Marquise gently let go of the girl's hand. Her eyes were still wide, and wet with fresh tears that looked at the world in terror. He brought up a hand and slid her eyelids shut, then stood up, turning back to the fence where the man still thrashed wildly out at him.

He looked into the man's eyes, and in them he saw nothing. No fear, no love, not even hatred. They were empty, absent of anything human. He was a walking shell, no more alive than the girl who's life he had taken. Marquise collected his staff and threw his backpack over his shoulder, but paused before leaving entirely, looking down at the dead girl whose eyes were closed and throat was missing.

His fists tightened, and he turned away, not sure where it was that he was headed.

A/N: Uh. Yeah. This arena is #spooky. Doubt this was all that surprising considering the constant cordyceps mentions and the story title, but it's still exciting to finally be here in the arena with things developing. This arena still has a lot of surprises in store, and we haven't seen the last of these terrifying mutts. Also: if you're curious about what that screaming sound I was describing sounds like, go ahead and give yourself some nightmares and Youtube "Clickers sound" and enjoy. Before I forget: if you're looking to sponsor something (which as y'all might have noticed, supplies are in pretty short supply [ha] so that might not be a terrible idea) then go ahead and just shoot me a PM or DM. I don't want to clog up my profile with prices of items, so you can just ask me and I'll lyk. Anyways, with that out of the way, let's move onto our first five eulogies:

24th: Arkus Smitt. Blew himself up attempting to prove his immortality. You were a plot device lol, but you were a good one so. RIP

23rd: Logan Hurt. Blew himself up in order to kill his district partner. Who's to tell if you were 23rd or 22nd, tbh. RIP

22nd: Aphrodite Silva. Knocked off her plate by Logan Hurt, then blown up. We barely knew ye. RIP

21st: Vesa Carlisle. Throat slit by Lana Birkhead, D2. The first of the POV tributes to bite the dust. I knew that at least one of you had to die at the bloodbath, and at the end of the day Vesa was just the most logical choice. He was an interesting character, and could have easily gone further, but the implosion of the Career alliance needed to happen for the rest of the arena plot to work, and so it had to be Vesa here. PercyJacksonAlways, if you're still reading this, thank you for sending Vesa in! RIP

20th: Persephone Saskia. Throat torn out by Runner. Sometimes, there are tributes that you just don't connect to, and Persephone was one of those. She was a good character that I wasn't able to do justice for, and I'm sorry for that. Somebody had to be the one to die this chapter, and Persephone just was the choice that made the most sense. Thanks to Merp1Molecule for sending Persephone in. RIP

Trivia(1 point): So for all the theatrics, at the end of the first day there are only 5 dead which. . . is actually not any more or less than I usually kill Day One. Still though, it's a bloodbath! It counts! Who are you most surprised to still see alive?

Trivia(1 point): You get placed into this arena. Do you A) leave, B) curl into a ball and cry, C) say "naw bro" and yeet yourself off the plate with Arkus, or D) channel your inner Daryl Dixon survival skills and proceed to die on the first day anyways?

See y'all next time with Day 2, which hopefully will continue to be tomorrow, but may be two days this time because these games chapters take a bit longer to write. Peace!