Alfonso Cadel-18 (District 1 Male)

"Look at them. They're running like cowards," I laugh, my voice tinged with disappointment as I watch my former allies slink out of the square with their tails tucked between their legs like the beaten dogs they are.

"They'll be back," grumbles Helena, her body tense and ready, her hard, icy-blue eyes actively scanning the area for trouble as she slowly makes her way over to the massive tree in the center of the square.

"Of course, they will," I say, my voice smug and confident as I fall in step beside her. "And we'll be ready for them when they do.

"Won't we?"

"We will," she says, her voice flat and even as she stands there in the middle of the square with a determined glint in her eye. "Because we'll be long gone by the time they come back."

"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you right," I say, my tone shifting on a dime as I stand there and stare down at her with a confused look on my face. "It sounded like you said we're abandoning the square?"

"I did," she says matter-of-factly, her face a mask of indifference.

"And why the hell would we do that?" I ask, my voice low and indignant, my eyes burning with barely contained rage.

"Because we can't hold it, Alfonso," she says, her voice flat and casual, as she carefully fishes a canteen of water out of a small red bag lying on the ground next to her before taking a long, slow drink and then tossing it to me.

"It's a defensive nightmare and we don't have the numbers to cover it."

"Bullshit. There are four of us. That's more than enough people to hold an area like this."

"No, it's not" she says, her tone low and condescending as she sits there and waits for me to admit that she's right.

"Yes, it is," I growl, my voice low and definite as I spin around to look for support from the rest of my allies.

"Tell her, guys. Tell her the four of us are more than capable of holding ... the ... square. ... Where the hell is SB?" I ask, my eyes darting wildly around the square in a frantic attempt to find our missing ally.

"What do you mean?" she asks, her body tensing up as she bounces back to her feet with her spear in her hand. "Is she not with Ariadne?!"

"Would I have asked if she was?"

"Shit," she whispers, her unexpected little outburst catching me off guard as she storms past me and over to the little stall where Ariadne has spent the last few minutes sorting through supplies.

"Ariadne?! Have you seen SB?" she shouts, voice tinged with unease as she scans the area for any sign of our missing ally.

"I thought she was over there with you guys," she says, her tone low and annoyed as she tosses the bag of supplies she had been sorting through aside and jumps back to her feet. "Is she not over there?"

"No," we say in unison, my response coming out an almost indistinguishable fraction of a second ahead of Helena's.

"That's strange," she says, her tone casual but inquisitive as she bends down and scoops up a bandolier full of throwing knives before jogging over to join us under the tree. "It's not like her to wander off like this. Is it?"

I hate to admit this, even if it is just to myself, but that's a great question, and I don't have an answer to it. I should, but I don't.

And to make matters worse, neither do they.

Then again, it's not like it really matters. SB's our ally, so whether she wandered off on her own for some stupid reason, or got dragged away by someone else, is irrelevant. We still have to go find her.

"It doesn't matter," I say, my voice soft and low as I start back towards the middle of the square to get my weapons. "All that does she's our ally, and she's not here. And that means we have to go look for her.

"So, let's move all of the supplies into that building over there," I say, my eyes fixed on a squat little building on the far edge of the square with a pair of small dragon statues flanking the door and a sign that says The Wyvern's Wing Inn. "That way, Ariadne will have some cover while she sorts through the rest of this crap."

"Hold on a second; why do I have to stay behind?"

"Because we can't leave the supplies undefended while we look for SB, and it would take too long for us to sort through them before we do.

"Also, you're the only one of us who can use ranged weapons without embarrassing herself.

"So, the way I see it, giving you a pile of knives and a safe place to hide with clear lines of sight while Helena and I go look for SB is the only logical option we have."

"That ... actually makes a lot of sense, Alfonso," says Helena, her voice cracking under the strain of the monumental effort it takes for her to give me that compliment. "What do you think, Ariadne?"

"Well, I'm not a huge fan of being left here by myself," she admits, her eyes darting wearily around the square. "But Alfonso's right. We need the supplies.

"And as much as I hate to admit it, this is the only viable option we have.

"Just promise me you guys won't be gone too long. I don't want to be the only one guarding this crap when Bellatrix and the others come back looking for a fight."

Tranquila Fenix (Head Gamemaker)

I can't believe that it's finally over. After months of planning and hard work and a week of crash course catch-up on my part, the bloodbath has come and gone. And I'm not sure how to feel about it.

On the one hand, it was mercifully short. It lasted all of maybe fifteen minutes and had just six deaths. Making it one of the shortest and least deadly bloodbaths in recent memory.

On the other, it was incredibly short and lacked the action and blood that many people have come to expect from a bloodbath. And that's sorta the problem.

It was a perfectly serviceable if unspectacular bloodbath. It had its moments, but only one or two of them came close to living up to expectations. And there were only six deaths.

And that's just not enough action for a Quarter Quell bloodbath. Hell, it's not enough action for a regular bloodbath. I wish it was, but it isn't. And I'm the one that has to deal with that.

Would you listen to me? I'm starting to think like a real gamemaker. I'm not upset about the role I played in the unnecessary deaths of six innocent children. I'm upset that more of them didn't have the decency to die when they had the chance.

What the hell is wrong with me?

"Is everything ok, ma'am?" asks my master of mutts, Tyreen, her voice barely above a whisper as she slides up beside me on the dais and places her hand on my shoulder.

"Oh, I'm fine," I lie, my voice surprisingly calm and even despite how disgusted I am with myself. "I was just thinking about the bloodbath."

"No one blames you for the lack of action, ma'am."

"Are you sure?" I ask, my voice low and defeated as I stand there and try to come to terms with how ok I seem to be with the slaughter I just took part in.

"Of course I am," she says, a soft, reassuring little smile on her lips. "The lack of action was an unfortunate side effect of the early fracturing of the career alliance. And everyone knows that."

"I hope you're right," I sigh, a weak little smile spreading across my lips as I stare down at the control room floor below me.

"I know I am. You're doing an amazing job as head gamemaker, Tranquila. I don't think anyone could have done better given the circumstances."

"Thank you," I mumble, my cheeks red with embracement.

"It's my pleasure," she coos, her voice light and playful as she gently slips her hand off my shoulder before hurrying back to the mutt control station with a smile on her lips and a surprisingly bouncy spring in her step.

"I'm sure it is," I mumble, my eyes drifting off of her and over to the three-dimensional map of the arena where a trio of trackers are still blinking in the market square.

"I wonder what they're doing?" I say, my curiosity getting the better of me, as I quickly punch up the camera for the market square and throw it up on the main screen.

"Nothing interesting," groans Apollo, his tone flat and matter of fact as he leans back in his chair and locks his fingers behind his head before rolling his eyes in annoyance. "It's almost like they're morally opposed to being entertaining."

"That's not true," coos Octavia, her voice light and bubbly despite the look of boredom burning in her big, bright eyes. "Bellatrix, Shimmer, and Sarah Beth all put on quite an impressive show for us."

"That they did," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he stares up at the action on screen with a look of mild disgust etched on his face. "And now they're part of the problem.

"Two of them are running away from the action, and the other is sobbing like a baby next to the broken and bloody body of the kid whose skull she split open like a ripe melon."

"That's enough, Apollo," I say, my tone flat and professional with just a hint of bite behind it as I glide down from my spot on the dais and onto the main floor.

"What?!" he says, his voice dripping with righteous indignation as he spins around in his chair and watches me as I slowly make my way down onto the main floor. "I was just saying what we were all thinking."

"I don't care. You're a professional. Act like it."

"Sorry, ma'am," he says, his tone quickly shifting from obnoxious and playful to clipped and professional as I stand there in the middle of the room and glare at him. "It won't happen again."

"It had better not.

"Now, I know the rest of you have work to do. So stop gawking and get back to it.

"Serina, get the cannons ready.

"Octavia, I want a weather readout for tonight on my desk in two minutes.

"Tyreen. You're in charge. Get the cannons fired off and see if you can find the tributes something interesting to do that doesn't involve waking up one of your mutts.

"I'll be in my office if you need me."

Oz Channer-17 (District 3 Male)

"I'm not sure how much more of this I can take," I mumble, my words coming out broken and strained as I struggle to keep up with the demanding pace being set by Dana and Leandra as they lead us on a zigzaggy journey through the arena.

A journey that ends a few minutes later when we stumble across a small square at the bottom of some stairs with a handful of shabby-looking buildings and a massive flowering tree in the middle. Which, in my mind, is the perfect place for us to stop and catch our breath. And that's when we hear the cannons.

~BOOM~

~BOOM~

~BOOM~

~BOOM~

~BOOM~

~BOOM~

"Did anyone catch how many cannons that was?" asks Sentri, his breathing just as strained and jagged as mine as he slowly makes his way down the stairs and into the square with the rest of us. "I couldn't hear them over the pounding in my ears."

"There were six," mumbles Dana, her eyes glued to her feet as a soft, steady stream of tears streaks down her sweat-covered face. "One for Cypher. ... One for Sedge. ..."

"One for Hector. ... One for Maira. … And two for a pair of tributes whose names we don't know," whispers Leandra, her voice soft and low as she wraps her arms protectively around Dana and pulls her in for a hug.

"There should have only been four," she growls, her face buried in Leandra's chest as she sobs quietly while Sentri and I stand there and try to figure out what we can do or say to help. "I should have gone back to help Sedge. And if I had, he and Cypher would still be alive."

"No, they wouldn't," whispers Sentri, a look of mild disgust etched on his tired face as the words come tumbling out before he can stop them.

"What?!" asks Dana, her voice soft and angry, her eyes burning with a dangerous mix of hurt and anger.

"If you'd gone back to help Sedge, you'd be just as dead as he is," he says, his voice calm and clear despite the aura of fear and uncertainty permeating the air around him.

"You don't know that, Sentri," she growls, her body tensing as she tries to pull away from Leandra, only to have her wrestle her back in and deepen the hug.

"Yes, I do. And so do you.

"You may not want to hear that, but it's the truth. You're still alive because you were smart enough not to put yourself between a career and her prey.

"And if you hadn't been, Bellatrix would have squashed you like the gnat you are to her, and then she would have killed Sedge and Cypher anyway."

"He's right, Dana," whispers Leandra, her voice soft and low, her eyes brimming with tears as she pulls Dana a little deeper into the hug she has her locked in.

"The four of us together couldn't take Bellatrix in the open like that. She's a career. She's all but untouchable when she's in her element."

"That doesn't mean I shouldn't have tried," she snaps, her voice shaking with every word as she fights back the urge to break down and cry. "At the very least, I could have saved Cypher."

"And you would be dead, Dana!" shouts Leandra, her voice just as raw and unsteady as her trembling little friends. "What part of that don't you understand?"

"Hey, guys, I know this is a discussion you need to have. But this really isn't the time or the place for it," I say, my voice low but firm as I pour every ounce of strength and conviction I can muster into my words before continuing.

"We're exposed out here, and we really don't want to be caught out in the open if we can avoid it.

"So, I would really appreciate it if the two of you could ... put a pin in this until ... later. ... Did anyone else hear that?!"

"Did we hear what?" asks Sentri.

"I'm not sure," I whisper, my ears straining with all their might as I try to pick up the sound again. "Oh, shit!"

"What is it, Oz?" asks Leandra, her hand instinctively reaching into the folds of her tunic to retrieve the blood-stained knife Cypher gave her before he died.

"Trouble," I say, my heart leaping up into my throat as I quickly scan the area for an escape route before realizing that we don't have one. "We need to find a place to hide. NOW!"

Asuka Tamura-17 (District 7 Male)

We can't run forever; the logical part of me knows that. At some point, Benny and I are going to have to stop running and start being tributes.

And the sooner we do, the better off we're going to be. Because we both know that running around aimlessly like we are is a recipe for disaster. Not having a plan is going to get us killed. And I think it's time for us to accept that reality for what it is.

"Benny ... wait," I say, my voice low and tired, my breathing coming in short, jagged little bursts as I bend over and use the hem of my tunic to wipe the sweat off my face.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice strained but thick with concern as he jogs back to check on me with a worried look on his face. "Are you hurt?"

"No," I assure him, a weak, forced little smile on my lips as I look up into his eyes with my hands on my knees and a fresh stream of sweat dripping down off my nose. "I just ... I can't ... I can't keep running like that."

"Do you want me to slow down?"

"That would help," I joke, a genuine little smile replacing the forced one on my face as I stand up straight and take a second to look around the area before continuing. "But I think taking a break would be even more helpful."

"Is it safe for us to stop?" he asks, a look of genuine concern mixed with fear burning in his big brown eyes, his fingers clenched tightly around the haft of the comically small hatchet that is our only weapon.

"Probably not," I admit, my voice evening out by the second as I continue to slowly recover from the marathon tour of the arena he took me on. "Then again, there's no such thing as safe when you're in the arena."

"That's fair," he concedes, his body relaxing slightly as he slips his hatchet through his belt while giving the area a quick once over. "But if we're gonna stop and rest, we're not doing it here."

"Why not?" I ask. The exhaustion in my bones seeping into my words as my shoulders slump in defeat.

"Because it's too open. And Arkadia told us not to linger out in the open like this."

"Ok, then where do we go?"

"Do you remember that square we passed a few seconds ago? The one with the big tree in it?"

"You mean that square," I ask, pointing over my shoulder to the staircase that leads down into the square in question.

"That's the one," he laughs, a playful little smile on his lips that only grows larger when I roll my eyes in amusement.

"It's far enough off the main path to be safe. There are plenty of places for us to hide if someone does manage to stumble across it. And it's got a pretty cool tree," he says, a childish grin on his face. "I like trees."

"Of course you do," I laugh, my voice low and playful as I motion for him to lead the way before falling in step beside him with a weak little smile on my face. "Let's go check it out."

Cornelia Harbor-16 (District 4 Female)

"Why are we stopping?" I ask, my heart pounding in my ears as I stand there and try to catch my breath while Bellatrix scans the area like a starving predator sizing up its prey.

"Because I'm tired of running," she growls, her voice low and angry, her hand resting casually on the pommel of her sword as she stands there and glares at the sky with an indignant glint in her eye.

"We're all tired of running," huffs Shimmer, his halberd resting casually across his shoulders as he scans the area with mild disinterest. "That doesn't mean we should stop doing it."

"What's the matter, Shimmer? Are you afraid big, bad Alfonso will catch up to us if we stop for too long?"

"No, I'm afraid that Helena will catch up with us and humiliate the shit out of you again," he laughs, his voice playful but laced with venom as he returns Bellatrix's hateful glare with a smug, satisfied little smirk.

"Careful, Shimmer," she growls, her body tensing as she turns around to face him, her hand resting loosely on the hilt of her sword. "You don't want to start something you can't finish.

"Remember what happened in the square?"

"I remember killing two tributes and then holding three careers at bay while Cornelia collected supplies, and you hid like a coward.

"Is that what you're talking about?"

"Do you really want to do this now?" she growls, a deranged glint in her eye. "Seriously?"

"I'm game if you are," he says, a sick, sadistic little grin on his lips as he slips his halberd down off his shoulder before squaring up and taking a step towards her.

"Ok, that's enough," I shout, my heart pounding in my ears a million miles a second as I stupidly shoot myself between the two of them. "You guys are allies. Remember?"

This is getting out of hand so fast it's not funny. And it's only going to get worse.

I don't think either of them is going to back down. Bellatrix is wound up too tight to think logically, and Shimmer is having too much fun pushing her buttons to stop.

These two have no business being allies, and it's only a matter of time before one of them explodes on the other.

And then it happens. Bellatrix's hand slips down off the hilt of her sword as she rears back and tries to lunge through me to get to Shimmer, a primal snarl slipping past her lips as she tries everything she can think of to get me out of the way so she can get her hands on him.

But she can't get past me. And that's when all hell breaks loose.

She rips her sword out of its sheath and swings it at my head. She would have killed me then and there if Shimmer hadn't stuck his halberd in there to block her followthrough, parrying the blow and giving me enough time to scramble away and get behind him before she attacks again.

Only, she doesn't attack. Instead, she just stands there and glares at us with her sword in her hand and a look of pure, primal hatred burning in her soft blue eyes. And then she breaks down.

With tears streaming down her cheeks, she lets out a blood-curdling shriek of pain before throwing her sword at Shimmer's feet and collapsing to the ground in a heap.

"What the hell happened?" I ask, my mind going a million miles a second as I force myself to go over and check on her to make sure she's ok, even though the logical part of me is screaming at me to stay put.

"The pressure finally got to her," mumbles Shimmer, his voice low and amused, his eyes locked on the screaming mess that is our ally. "I'm honestly surprised that she lasted as long as she did. Considering the circumstances."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, my voice thick with shock and concern as I give Bellatrix a quick once over before rolling her onto her knees and dragging her back to her feet.

"Oh, it's not important," he says, his voice soft and smug, his eyes locked on me as I struggle to pull Bellatrix back to her feet.

"Bullshit," I groan, my voice cracking as I finally manage to pull all ninety-seven pounds of sobbing dead weight that is my ally back to her feet and drape her arm across my shoulder. "I know what I heard, and it wasn't nothing.

"Now tell me what you meant when you said you were surprised it took her this long to crack. And more importantly, were you trying to make this happen?"

"Well, not this specifically," he says, a sick, twisted little grin on his lips as he stands there and watches me struggle to keep Bellatrix on her feet. "I knew she would crack eventually if I kept pushing her buttons, but I had no idea it would be this … through."

"You. … What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Do you really want me to answer that question, Cornelia?" he asks, his voice soft and menacing as he quickly snatches up Bellatrix's sword and my sickle. "Like, really, really?"

"I ... um ... I guess not," I whisper, a sick knot forming in the pit of my stomach as he stands there and glares at me with a frightening, stomach-churning glint in his eyes.

"I didn't think so," he whispers, his eyes sparkling with malicious intent as he casually slides our weapons into his bag before throwing it back over his shoulder and scooping up his halberd.

"So, with Bellatrix out of commission, you're the brains of this operation. What do we do next?"

"We ... um ... we keep moving until we find a safe place to hunker down for the night. Right?" I stammer, the words catching in my throat as the reality of the situations I'm in comes crashing down on my head like a ton of bricks.

"Are you asking me, Cornelia? Or are you telling me?"

"Telling?"

"That's still a question."

"I'm telling you."

"Good," he says, his mood shifting from dark and menacing to light and playful in the blink of an eye. "In that case, we'd better get moving. We've got a lot of ground to cover and it's going to be slow going with Bellatrix like this.

"I'll take point, try to keep up."