A/N: WHAT'S UP MY GOOD DUDES WHO'S READY FOR A RIP ROARIN BLOOODBAAAATH! According to the views and review count, pretty much none of you. Shrug. I can't really expect this to get a lot of traction, as this is my first SYOT and I was inactive for like eight months, but I've I'm severely overwhelmed. If anyone IS still reading this, please review! It gives me the motivation to finish.
Also, I realized I never gave Tesla a loner's POV, because I am Doctor Failure and I have a PhD in neglect. Sorry friend! :(
Without further ado, it's time to shed some blood babey! :3c
Richard Sherman, District 11 Male
The gong sounds, and the tributes explode outwards. I can see the girl from 2 on my left rush to the center, baring her teeth and not even sparing me a glance. I can hear a low, sad moan as the boy from four bends over the shrimp from 12, the one with the hole in his foot, the career's shadow eclipsing the boy and his features thrown into sharp contrast with that of the shivering tribute.
I smell blood on the air. Screams light up the arena. I swear I can feel the adrenaline, nerve endings firing, death rattles and desperate gasps as hearts stop in their tracks.
And me? I'm frozen, my knees knocking together, every clatter bringing me further and further away from reality. I haven't died yet, but it's only a matter of time, a matter of time, a matter of time…
I've nearly crossed the threshold of fucking something in my mind, that's for sure, when I hear the sharp little voice in my ear.
You don't want to be a Penny.
I nearly die right then from fright.
Instead of doing that, which might've been more merciful, I run screaming like a headless chicken into the hollow of the Cornucopia.
Mason Dowry, District 1 Male
Yes. Yes. The time has come. The hunt, the thrill, the chase is on. I can see my destiny on the horizon. But not only there.
I also see it on a girl
I reach a sword quickly, and grab it with a single fluid motion. The live metal is warm in my clutched hands. I turn, pivot, and run the girl through. It slides into her heavy bound, and she lets off a wet little gurgle of pain. My people, the careers, turn to me for a second, obviously ecstatic that I got the first kill. None of them deserve it more!
I turn back to her twitching, gasping, in-the-throes-of-agony body. Except she's doing none of those things. She looks like she's at peace.
Hot anger fills me for a second, so potent and all consuming that I'm almost blown away by the ferocity of it. How dare she look content! I killed her!
And then I notice that her left hand is flipping me the bird.
I cut off that finger with a wet thump, but it isn't enough. Her sweet, sickening smile remains, pasted on her fatass face. I roar, and fling my sword in the air to impale her again-
When I feel a sharp, deathly pinch in my lower back.
I look down. Three prongs are extending from my stomach, glistening with my princely red blood.
I'm numb.
In the very end, I do the same thing to my killer that the fatass did to me.
Flip her off.
Serena Williams, District 4 Female
Good riddance to bad rubbish.
Hesiodia Trince, District 5 Female
I'm so pretty right now. So many shades of lovely red, and a little purple and blue too. Purple and blue are Pepper and Cleo's favorite colors. I wonder how they're doing. I miss them. I miss the stupid little gremlins so much.
Come back to me. I want you to see my colors…
What's happening? Is it over? Did I win? I wanna go home. I wanna see Pepper and Cleo. I must've won. What else could I have done?
Usually, I sink like a rock. Right now, though, I feel myself floating.
Finlay Ardun, District 11 Female
I take off instantly, light in the air. I spot a small leather bag laying crumpled on the outskirts, as well as a suspicious red lump. I scoop them up without stopping, and continue to flee.
I run smack dab into a mirror. As a fall back, I see twenty Finlays, all clutching bags and Unidentified Lumpy Objects (ULOs) faces squinted and scrambled with pain. A spiderweb-thin crack extends from the mirror.
I hiss with pain and dodge a wayward arrow. This time, I spot a true door, undiluted and real. I see something that isn't fiction, and run to it.
I slip through, and pelt down a dark velvet corridor, occasionally bouncing off mirrors. I can feel my mother resting on my shoulders, her presence only realized by her faint, warm breath in my ear. Her memories overtake mine, just for a minute.
Running through the wheat, all of her fear melting away like the morning dew. She wasn't scared of the predators, the peacekeepers. I am, though. That's the difference. I recognize my place, even if everything inside me insists I reject it. The Capitol is the predator. I am the prey. I'm just now realizing this even more acutely than before, running for my life, everything inside me, every muscle, every thought straining beyond the limits of the most conscious and aware human.
The Capitol is the predator. I am the prey. My mother was something else entirely, and I'm not living up to her legacy anytime soon.
Teryn Gardner, District 9 Female
I scoop up a tarp, a small parcel, and a pitchfork, An apprehensive Heavenly watching my back. I know, I know, I'm an idiot for running into the Cornucopia, blah blah blah. But the Careers this year are vicious. They'll want to mop up the riffraff first before getting to stronger tributes like Heavenly and myself.
Case in point: the little guy pinned to the ground by Maximus' sword. I'm sorry for him. He reminds me of Millard, in a way, and does that resemblance ever tug at my heartstrings.
But it was inevitable.
Henry Wade, District 12 Male
Everything hurts. Everything hurts so much.
My stomach is on fire. My organs spill everywhere, like silly putty. I just know what it is because I read it in a book, as I never got to play with silly putty. I never discovered what an oyster is.
I've just learned that dying hurts. A lot.
Maximus hunches over me. He isn't smiling, but I can see the pride in his eyes. He's proud of his kill.
I feel sick, and everything hurts.
Suddenly, Maximus' head snaps sideways. A skinny, crumpled girl- Alicia- is biting at his ear, screeching like a hyena, scrabbly, uncut nails raking over his skin.
I've never been more enamored in my life. But I want her to run.
Maximus hisses and throws her off him, and she hits the ground with the sound a cantaloupe makes when it smashes against the ground. Me and Alicia know. While we were at the amusement park, we stole several of them, carried them onto the coasters, and dropped them off, hoping we could knock some Capitolites senseless. We could barely hear the sound over the wind, but it stuck with me.
Maximus holds his sword alight for a minute, and I can barely breathe. He plants it in her stomach, and she gasps in pain. He plants it, but he's not growing anything. He's just taking something away.
Maximus doesn't spare us a glance after that, and lurches away to tend to his wounds. I flip over, and the sound is wet.
Alicia's hands land on top of mine, and her warmth is there even when she leaves.
In my last moments, I think I finally understand what an oyster is.
Alicia Marleen, District 12 Female
I was just trying to be a good ally. The best. Now I'm bleeding and dying. Sorry Henry.
Henry's hand is comforting and familiar beneath mine. It doesn't feel like Henry's. It feels like Garfield's. The "only friend" part of him is the part I see in Henry, not the "I-basically-raised-him" part. But he's still there.
In my final moments, I try to sing to an approximation of my brother. But my lips won't move.
There's no sky in the arena, but I can feel the sun on my face. And I am full.
Gareth Barkely, District 7 Male
I scoop up a conveniently located backup, sling it over my shoulder, and begin to run when something knocks the breath out of me. Fear explodes in my trachea, stifling my breaths even if my lungs were functioning. My mind goes haywire. Ivy, Jess, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry- Then an arm slinks around my shoulder, and I realize that the bulk that sent my senses spinning belonged to Ajax.
The relief I feel at this is indescribable.
"Have you seen Quinn or Preston?" He yells over the turmoil, eyes distant and scared. I shake my head. His expression falls even more than before. He looks like Eeyore at that moment, and right then I have the perverse urge to treat him like I treat Ivy whenever her mood plummets- making dumb jokes and whining so much she forgets to be sad in favor of admonishing me for my stupidity. I open my mouth to do just that, when Ajax screams right in my ear.
"QUINN! WHAT ARE YOU DOING! GET UP!"
Quinn Jennings, District 6 Female
My head hurts. So badly. The final ring of the gong hit my cranium like a hammer to the head, and I'm feeling it potently now.
I don't know why. I'm okay. I thought I was okay. But here I am, crouching on the ground as screams set the air on fire, my pain reflecting back at me. Hell eats at my brain.
I'm not even surprised when I feel the spikes lodge themselves in my flesh. It hurts, but it overwhelms the pain in my head. I'm grateful for it. I still feel like I've been run over by an eighteen-wheeler, but I'm grateful.
Hot blood covers me. Not all of it is my own. Preston is sprawled next to me. The monster from nine is obliterating his flesh. He must've been trying to save me. That's nice.
My mind reaches the tapestry as I die. My blood is that same shade. I don't look at it closely. I want to expire sane. I want to expire with Preston. Actually, I don't want to expire at all, but this will do.
The nine boy finally leaves Preston alone, something snapping into position in his oafish brain. He reels back, eyes dark with sudden surprise. He walks, uncertain and precipitous from the corpse, and then runs.
I lean over Preston, head still banging like a big bass drum. He's nigh-unrecognizable, flesh shattered and peeled away to reveal red, red veins, and delicate intestines. He's alive. He's still alive. That's just the perfect, bloody cherry on top.
I think I'm crying now. He doesn't deserve this. I don't deserve this. I don't want to die. And with the pain he's in, with the shapes his mouth is making, I know he does.
His neck is still partially intact. I wrap my hands around it, my tears rainfall. Then I begin to squeeze.
I feel the tendons pulsing, the adam's apple bobbing frantically. I feel his air leaving him. I feel, I feel, I feel, I do nothing but feel.
It takes two minutes, but nobody bothers me. Not even Preston. Not even Ajax and Gareth, who's eyes I can feel searing me. Not even myself. I don't bother myself with questions or answers or pain.
I just choke.
I choke, I choke, I choke, I feel, I feel, I feel, and then I die.
Preston Oxford, District 6 Male
Her hands are a gift. I never paid any attention to her hands before. They were just there- big heavy things that I never treated with any special respect. I was more enamored with her hair, and her face. But I'm appreciating them now. She has angel's hands. With every squeeze, I feel more of my pain leaking away. And I am delivered into similar hands.
Ivy. I miss you, Ivy.
Tesla Lumen, District 3 Male
There is no time. No time for philosophy or planning. No time to be anxious. No time to toot my own horn, or pre-mourn my own death. Those things can be belated. Right now, I just need to live.
I don't bother going for a prize. I just flee, legs pumping, lungs burning. I wouldn't call myself an anti-sports intellectual, but I'm definitely unaccustomed to running so fast.
My legs wheel on. My tendons flare, although I can't see them. I spot glass and pause for a second, trying to divine the location of the exit, my confused mug copying on and one and one until all of my perplexed features blur and blend together like a Tesla martini.
It's enough. This split second lacking movement is, unmercifully, enough. I reach for luck, a steady standing, a willingless to be overlooked, and I fall desperately short. It's enough. Enough to be noticed. Enough to lose the chance to take flight. It's enough, but I, complicated, quiet, unsympathetic Tesla- I am not. And now I will never get the chance to be enough, because someone else already was.
The Capitol doesn't like to wait for anything to be enough. They have enough already. Enough resources, enough time, enough innocent children and enough children too desperate to be called children. They have enough, so why would they want to add to their stock with someone who wasn't born enough or with enough?
Enough.
Something thuds into the back of my head. I hit the plush. I smell my own blood.
It doesn't matter. In the end, when it comes down to the nitty-gritty, my identity doesn't matter. I just get one chance, now. One chance to defy being a statistic. One chance to sear myself, brand myself into someone's head.
"My name is-" I say, and then the blood hits the roof of my mouth and I can't say anything at all.
I will never say enough.
Chablis Brochetto, District 1 Female
I wait.
I wait, hungry in the dark. I wait in the heart of the Cornucopia itself, nestled in the back corner, a poison from the inside. A tumor, the kind you don't see until it's too late.
One hand is resting on my stomach, counting every visible rib. Measuring my allure and appeal in doses. Taking everything beautiful about me and packaging it, thrusting it into boxes.
I am already beautiful. These boxes, these tight constraint, these rigorous rules, and the kill I'm about to make will make me attractive.
In my other hand I hold a knife.
A tribute enters the darkness. I shade my eyes, hoping they don't stand out in the dark. I'm catty enough for it, anyways. It's a guy, but not a career. Skinny and short, but not the impling from 12, who's probably already dead. Curly, fluffy hair. That leaves two possibilities- Preston or Richard. His shoulders don't sag like a discarded marionette, so Richard is the only option.
He's a nice kid. But he is overwhelmingly beneath me. Beneath my foot, beneath my gaze, beneath my knife, hopefully, beneath my beauty.
I blend in with the dark, but I can still light up. The hand I hold in my ribs drifts away slowly, parting from the flesh with a kiss from sharp, fake nails. It lands on the flashlight, intended, I'm sure, for navigating the darker corridors. I pick it up, point it at Richard like a weapon I can wage war with, and snap it on.
I'm sure the beam of white, focused light shooting out from the dank, shady center of the Cornucopia is an alarming sight. As expected, it nearly blinds him. He staggers forwards in pain and confusion.
There is no fighting. There is only two bodies in the dark, and one of those bodies is holding a knife.
Just the luck of cards.
I drive the knife forwards. It pierces his ribs, and blood frothes forwards. I feel him squirm on the blade for a second. Then he lets out a single gasp of pain and crumples.
I walk out of the Cornucopia humbly. I really am camouflage.
Nobody challenges me at all.
The Bloodbath is over.
24th: Hesiodia Trince, District 5 Female- Stabbed by Mason (not axed whoops) [D1]
Hesi… what can I say? You were destined to be a Bloodbath. It even said so in your form. But oddly enough, I found myself connecting to you, for some weird reason. I were so arrogant and smug it was comedic, but, I don't know… behind your "Material Girl" personality, I saw a normal girl, and I stressed that when you died. You may have been the most unpleasant tribute in the Games, but you didn't deserve to die. You're a ghost now. Thanks ? (guest) for Hesi. In the end, she was undeserving of her fate.
23rd: Mason Dowry, District 1 Male- Stabbed by Serena [D4]
Wait, I take it back. Hesiodia was not the most irritating tribute in the Games. You were. You were… well, you were nasty, violent, deplorable, angry, sexually frustrated, arrogant, grossly overconfident, and totally not cake. You were the perfect Career, too, and fit very well with the brutal Careers of canon. Maximus and Taurus do too, but you were the one that fit the bill best. You were so terrible that your fellow Career killed you in plain sight. Ouch. Don't torment Hesi in the afterlife. Please. I'm begging you. Thanks ? (guest) for Mason. You, sir, are a true god for creating a terrible character- and a bloodbath, at that. I salute you.
22nd: Alicia Marleen, District 12 Female- Stabbed by Maximus [D4]
Well. The first two deaths were easy to write for me. Not yours. I'm pretty sure I'm heading straight to hell for killing you. Alicia, you were a sweetheart, and would have grown into a lovely young woman if it hadn't been for the Hunger Games. You escaped death so many times in your youth, despite your selflessness. This time, you didn't get lucky. I wasn't going to kill you in the Bloodbath at first. Then I wrote Henry's death and thought "Wait… Alicia wouldn't just sit around while her ally died, would she? Crap." You died rushing to Henry's aid, and because of you, Maximus has some bad claw marks on his face. I'm proud of you. Fly free in the afterlife. And don't worry about Garfield. He'll be fine. Thanks CallmeLegend for Alicia. She was a joy to write.
21st: Henry Wade, District 12 Male- Stabbed by Maximus [D4]
Henry! No! My sweet muffin, you didn't deserve your fate either. You belong in a world without the Hunger Games- but sadly, that's not a world I'm really interested in writing. There are so many things you never got to do, and believe me when I say I want to grab your hand and take you on a million adventures. And feed you more cake. Alicia can come too. And Garfield. And Richard. Anyways, like Alicia, you were the sweetest 'lil cream puff. You were simply bubbling over with dreams and killing you was /probably/ the hardest thing I've ever done. Thanks Adythia123 for Henry. He should have been reading.
20th: Quinn Jennings, District 6 Female- Cleaved by Rodrick (ew) [D9]
QUINN! When I got your form, I had no idea how I would write you. But when I put my fingers to the keyboard, the words just… flowed out. I was amazed. It felt like I could write you in my sleep! You switched from quiet to loud in a heartbeat. I was so confused by you, and how easy I found writing you to be. You were a person who couldn't be boxed into one category, you were quiet and loud and shy and gregarious and funny and scared and reckless and broken and whole. A person of intense differences. You came to life in my hands. You lives and laughed and breathed and died, and nobody's forgetting you anytime soon. Thanks SageThePistachioQueen for Quinn. She was a great character, but alas, her death was preplanned. Speaking of which, I can finally let the cat out of the bag now- Quinn had a very serious concussion thanks to her head injury in her Reapings chapter. There was a lot of foreshadowing about it, but none of you guessed! I'm proud of myself for keeping that secret so well. Sure backfired on Quinn though.
19th: Preston Oxford, District 6 Male- Cleaved by Rodrick (ew,) [D9] Strangled by Quinn. [D6]
Oh Preston, my sad little bean. Like with Quinn, you were so fun to play with, and I apologize for dragging you through actual literal hell. Quinn definitely overshadowed you, and some of that was my fault- Just because she's more vivacious than you doesn't mean she should overwhelm you. Sorry. But some of it was just you. You were a character of subtleties, who slipped into the background easily. You, unlike Quinn, were easily shoved into a tragic lovers position, and you played your part well. I wonder what I'll be reincarnated into in order to pay for my sins. Maybe I'll just burn in hell. Anyways, you were a nice, easy character to write, and I liked your tragic-ness a lot. Thanks ChalkItUp for Preston.
18th: Tesla Lumen, District 3 Male- Shot by Venie [D2]
You were the first surprise death, the second being Richard. Mason and Hesi were total dumbasses. Alicia and Henry were twelve. Preston and Quinn were heavily foreshadowed. But nobody expected you to die, and for good reason. You were smart, resourceful, and a seemingly great candidate for Victor. But you didn't really have a place here. I have a whole storyline planned, and you don't fit in anywhere. I considered letting you live, because I liked you, but it wouldn't be fair to you, or your submitter. You would get barely any screentime, and eventually everyone would realize you weren't my Victor. For what it's worth, you were a great tribute. You weren't easy to write, that's for sure, but your quiet brilliance and shy nature tickled me pink and I enjoyed your character. Thanks go-for-santa for Tesla. He was a great character. I just wasn't great at including him.
17th: Richard Sherman, District 11 Male- Knifed by Chablis [D1]
Richard was my second surprise death. I never really got Richard. I couldn't understand his personality at all. I tried to work with him, but it never really went very well. Writing him was really hard, for reasons even I can't explain. I just didn't connect with him. I think you might have noticed, seeing as I forgot him a LOT. Nevertheless, he was a strong character, and would have a great shot if not for circumstances out of his control. And, ya know, Chablis. Thanks goatman25 for Richard. He was a cool dude, we just didn't click.
Alliances after BB:
Careers: Venie [D2] Taurus [D2] Serena [D4] Maximus [D4]
Sad, near-dead clovers: Gareth [D7] Ajax [D8]
Sugar, Spice…: Futura [D3] Cajsa [D8]
Tough Girls: Heavenly [D7] Teryn [D9]
Loners:
Chablis [D1] Nyso [D5] Rodrick [D9] Blair [D10] Crystaille [D10] Finlay [D11]
KILL COUNTS:
Mason Dowry: 1
Serena Melenese: 1
Maximus Vulcan: 2
Rodrick Olivier: 1 and ½
Quinn Jennings: ½
Venie Hadley: 1
Chablis Brochetto: 1
CURRENT KILL LEADER: Maximus Vulcan
A/N: Omg this chapter is so looooooooong. I wrote the obituaries like a year ago, yeah, but that still leaves me typing like 3000 words and my fingers are uber-dead!
Now, onto the elephant in the room…
I am, truly, sincerely sorry if I killed your tribute. Rest assured I hated none of them, except Mason but he was meant to be hated so whatever. Their deaths were required to further the plot, and keeping them around longer would not contribute to the story, so this was necessary. I know the majority of submitters who's tributes I killed are no longer around, but for the ones who are, I implore you to continue reading. I've invested so much in this story, and just because your tributes aren't active doesn't mean you shouldn't be. And, of course, review! Thoughts on the bloodbath? Top 6 and Victor predictions? Any bloodbaths you predicted, any that blew you away with surprise? Just an entire review filled with criticism? You know what, that's lit too. Drop a feedback bomb on me boyos. I seriously hope you all are enjoying this story! I'll see you guys next time for Day One!