THE FIFTY FIRST ANNUAL HUNGER GAMES
"Night to Remember"


INTRODUCTION

With the mysterious disappearance of Head Gamemaker Wisp Glasgow, the nation of Panem was in turmoil. Despite President Snow's best efforts to control the frequent Capitol riots, he was nearly powerless against a tide of thousands of angry citizens. Over the several years he had served as head gamemaker, they had grown to love him and his personality. They urged Snow to investigate Wisp's disappearance. He sent out a search party to hunt day and night for the man for weeks until they simply gave up, all while Snow smugly knew that Wisp was dead, with a bullet in his head. With the Capitol left with no choice but to embrace the unexplainable disappearance of their Wisp Glasgow, Snow turned to his signature strategy. Bread and circuses. Give them entertainment and the most luxurious things money could buy, and they'd forget about what the real problems were. After sifting through the thousands of auditions for new Head Gamemaker, Snow couldn't decide between three final candidates. To add a little something unique, Snow instilled a rule. Each of these three talented people would serve as head gamemaker for two years. After that, a vote amongst Capitol citizens would decide which of the three would take the full-time job. The first candidate was a lanky and clever man named Feodore Elliot. He was the youngest candidate, scarcely thirty. Feodore was a huge history buff and preferred games based on real-life events from the past. His favorite kind of games were those that were short and sweet, starting small and quickly crescendoing into action-packed finales. The second candidate was Reyna Bayer, the CEO of a very popular Capitol fashion brand. Her artistic eye was the chief reason she caught Snow's eye. Reyna enjoyed Hunger Games with a wide crop of strong fighters and large supplies of weapons at the cornucopia. She also liked big, messy bloodbaths. The third and final candidate was fifty years of age, the oldest of the trio, though he fared remarkable well for his age. This James Stradivarius fellow loved games with harsh arenas, where the victor emerges by outlasting the others in rough natural conditions. With Feodore, Reyna, James, and their teams of supporting gamemakers feuding to create the grandest arenas and muttations the games had ever seen, the next six games were sure to be among the best yet.

This year had one of the stronger career packs. District 1's tributes were both neighbors, and in fact good friends. The male was the weaker of the duo this year, a lesser in weaponry but a mischievous trickster. He was dangerously clever and mysterious. The female was more dainty and passionate, a beauty as always, and a master of close-range combat. District 2 produced the strongest pair this year. They weren't to the level of Stego and Tori from the forty-ninth Hunger Games, but they were close. The male was as fast as an arrow and nearly impossible to catch. He was also a great multitasker and confident warrior, a formidable swordsman. The female was tall, muscular, and rather masculine in appearance. She was up to the challenge of ramming against the toughest of opponents in the games. District 4's tributes, as usual, were the weakest duo. The male had a lack of training compared to the others, though he did have a knack for knives and a charismatic persona that made him one to remember. His district partner scored the lowest this year, with a meager eight. She was somewhat clumsy, but in a cute way. Their training scores were of note, with two tens, three nines, and a single eight.

The fifty-first Hunger Games also had a strong crop of outliers, guaranteeing that this would be a roller coaster of a Hunger Games. The shrewd Bonsai from District 7 scored an astonishing eight. She blew the other outliers out of the water with her mastery of the axe and her skills with snares and other traps. Hemlock of 7, Organza of 8, Paloma from 10, and Tristan from 12 all earned sevens. The rest of the tributes earned between six and three in their private sessions. There were no volunteers outside of the careers. Here are the tributes:

District 1: Lotion Wiles, 16, (9) 8-1 and Chiffon Janecki, 17, (9) 8-1

District 2: Pumice Badnersh, 18, (10) 4-1 and Lyme Mabbett, 16, (10) 5-1

District 3: Buzzer Magubane, 14, (4) 36-1 and Bonnie Toole, 16, (5) 23-1

District 4: Hull McKay, 17, (9) 8-1 and Melanie Hazlitt, 17, (8) 9-1

District 5: Hestor Sekimofto, 14, (5) 31-1 and Ixabel Centore, 13, (3) 44-1

District 6: Stanley Dupioni, 18, (6) 22-1 and Ariel Vermeule, 17, (4) 33-1

District 7: Hemlock Milsosz, 15, (7) 15-1 and Bonsai Davenport, 18, (8) 10-1

District 8: Suede Wynn-Jones, 12, (3) 43-1 and Organza Indigo, 14, (7) 16-1

District 9: Dinkel Paulson, 17, (6) 22-1 and Cider Lake, 17, (5) 24-1

District 10: Jonah Allaway, 18, (6) 21-1 and Paloma Reagan, 18, (7) 18-1

District 11: Waverly Brown, 13, (4) 39-1 and Peony Atil, 12, (3) 40-1

District 12: Tristan Luckacher, 18, (7) 15-1 and Laurel Yanny, 17, (6) 21-1

HGBO Bets: 8% on Pumice and Lyme, 7% on Lotion, Chiffon, and Hull, 6% on Melanie and Bonsai, 5% on Hemlock, Organza, Paloma, and Tristan, 4% on Stanley, Dinkel, Jonah, and Laurel, 3% on Bonnie, Hestor, and Cider, 2% on Buzzer, Ariel, and Waverly, 1% or less on Ixabel, Waverly, and Peony.


THE GAMES

Mr. Feodore Elliot, candidate number one, took his turn as head gamemaker this year. As a big history buff, he started by making a list of famous events from the past that would make for exciting games when recreated in the modern day. He wanted the arena to be unparalleled by anything that would come before or after it. Unparalleled. Undefeatable. Unsinkable. The arena of the fifty-first Hunger Games was an exact replica of the RMS Titanic, a massive ship built by the White Star Line in 1912, just over two-hundred years prior. The ship was so grand that many dared to call it unsinkable. However, one cold April night on its maiden voyage, the ship scraped against an iceberg in the north Atlantic ocean. Within three hours, the ship had completely sunk, plunging its thousands of passengers into the dark, freezing ocean. It was a disaster that had always fascinated Feodore, and he couldn't wait to get ready. Feodore read all of the books and websites he could find and consulted hundreds of experts to make his recreation of the great ship as authentic as possible. Just like the original Titanic, the ship's length from bow to stern was 882 feet. It had ten decks in total. The highest deck was known as Boat Deck. The one below that was A Deck, then B Deck, then C Deck, and so on. G Deck was the lowest deck used by passengers. Below G Deck was a space used for cargo, and below that were the boiler rooms. The cornucopia was located at the base of the grand staircase, undoubtedly the most famous part of the Titanic. The elegant staircase ran from E Deck all the way up to Boat Deck. Almost every room on the ship was breathtakingly beautiful. The liner ran by itself, chugging across the sparkling ocean as if nothing could stop it. But everyone knew what stood directly in its path…

Sunlight streamed in through the sparkling glass dome high above the grand staircase. The tributes inhaled deeply and sighed, savoring the sweet smell of polished mahogany that wafted around them. The smell of fresh blood would soon replace it. The flashing numbers above them reached zero. Tributes burst forward and backward. Seeing the lavish splendor of the floating palace around them, a number of tributes fled immediately. They were Hemlock and Bonsai from District 7, Cider from District 9, and Peony from District 11. The rest of the tributes decided to fight it out at the bloodbath.

Pumice was one of the few tributes that didn't let the breathtaking beauty of the grand staircase distract him. He was the first off his pedestal, thundering toward the supplies like there was no tomorrow. He swooped down and swept up a sword that sat about ten yards from his pedestal. Turning sharply on his heel, Pumice grabbed the nearest girl and threw her to the ground like nothing. The girl slid across the linoleum floor for a few feet before coming to a stop. Pumice raced to her side and thrust his sword into the back of her neck. She fought to drag herself away, but Pumice finished her off by severing her right arm. Sprawled out on the floor in a pool of her own blood, the girl swiftly died.

Paloma Reagan, District 10 Female: 24th, Killed by Pumice, Bloodbath

Lyme was more than delighted at the glint of a pair of wolverine claws right at the base of her pedestal. She tried on the claws. They fit on perfectly, ten blades of steel firing out from between her fingers. Eager to test the unique weapons, Lyme tacked the boy whose pedestal was next to hers. The boy screamed as the chorus of talons raked across his leg. Blood burbled forth. Lyme stamped her foot into the back of the boy's leg, trapping him in place, and continued to slash away mercilessly at the back of his neck.

Suede Wynn-Jones, District 8 Male: 23rd, Killed by Lyme, Bloodbath

Lotion armed himself with a hatchet and took off after a girl who was racing up the grand staircase, having changed her mind about participating in the bloodbath after seeing the first few kills made. The girl gasped when Lotion threw his hatchet. The blade of the throwing axe buried itself perfectly into her back. The girl fell backward and slid down the steps to Lotion's feet. She looked pretty dead to Lotion, so he retrieved his weapon and raced back down the flight of stairs to regroup with his allies.

Ixabel Centor, District 5 Female: 22nd, Killed by Lotion, Bloodbath

Hull wove through the crowd of scrambling outliers, looking for prey. He had a wicked looking hunting knife strapped into his right hand and had his eye caught by a young boy who was staggering to the ground, his face having been slashed open by Lyme a few seconds earlier. Hull polished the boy off with a stab of his knife. He was seconds away from death in the first place, though, and barely felt it.

Dinkel Paulson, District 9 Male: 21st, Killed by Lyme and Hull, Bloodbath

Pumice rammed the butt of his sword into the nose of a nearby sniveling boy. The boy groaned and staggered to the ground. Pumice flipped around his sword and went in for the kill. He carved out a good portion of his torso. In a rather disgusting manner, his body was literally falling apart, organs tumbling every which way and spreading out like a puddle. Pumice quickly turned tail and fled, as he didn't want to spend any more time near the boy's unsightly remains than he had to.

Waverly Brown, District 11 Male: 20th, Killed by Pumice, Bloodbath

Lyme grabbed a nearby boy by the neck and slammed him into the banister of the grand staircase. He let out a mewl of pain before sliding to the ground at Lyme's feet, too tired and battered to fight back. Lyme dug her wolverine claws into his abdomen and opened ten gashes as long as her arms. A dark pool swirled around her feet as she continued to score up his body with her titanium claws.

Hestor Sekimoto, District 5 Male: 19th, Killed by Lyme, Bloodbath

Melanie was one of the few careers yet to make a kill, but she was determined to do so before the end of the bloodbath. She picked up a pair of spiked tonfas, fit them into her arms, and ran toward Organza from District 8. Organza was armed with a knife and prepared to fight back, and Melanie got much more than she had bargained for. Organza heard Melanie's shuffling behind her and jumped to her feet, not wanting a fight but prepared for it nonetheless. Organza lashed out with her knife and opened a slice at the base of the District 4 female's neck. Melanie scurried out of the way, ran around her, and went for her back. Organza managed to slash her knife across Melanie's cheek, drawing a few drops of blood. She was stunned for a few moments, and she was easy work for Organza. Organza drilled her knife into her heart, killing her almost instantly. She staggered backward, both fascinated and horrified by the career's mangled body. Deciding she had enough trouble for a bloodbath, she spun around and fled down one of the passenger hallways.

Melanie Hazlitt, District 4 Female: 18th, Killed by Organza, Bloodbath

Chiffon armed herself with a dagger and zeroed in on her first kill: a pudgy boy, trying to escape the bloodbath with a backpack of wire. Chiffon tore after him, and his little feet couldn't run fast enough to evade her. She sank her knife halfway into his arm, nearly severing it but leaving it hanging on by an inch of flesh. Suddenly, Chiffon was on top of him, pinning his ankles against the floor. Blood and flesh flew everywhere as Chiffon twisted her knife around inside the pitiful boy.

Buzzer Magubane, District 3 Male: 17th, Killed by Chiffon, Bloodbath

Lotion made the final kill. A few moments earlier, one girl had thrown herself underneath a crate in the middle of the room, only wanting to come out when the bloodbath was all over. Lotion spotted her anxiously writhing form through the netted edges of the crate and kicked the barrier off of her. Lotion lofted his axe overhead and brought it down, cleaving the girl's skull completely in half and going all the way down to the base of her neck. Her cannon shot was instantaneous, though coupled with eight others that would soon follow.

Laurel Yanny, District 12 Female: 16th, Killed by Lotion, Bloodbath

Cameras were fixed everywhere on the ship. As the tributes spread farther and farther apart, the Capitol began giving each their share of coverage. The careers spent about an hour repairing their weapons, and then they were ready to go hunting. They mostly stayed on E Deck, wanting to cross the easy hunting ground off of their checklist early on. The middle deck largely consisted of passenger cabins for all three classes, and hunting grew quite monotonous before long. Knowledgeable of ship design, Hull suggested that they head to the front of the ship, where the kitchens of large ocean vessels usually were. Sure enough, the elegant wooden floor changed to shining porcelain tile. A kitchen came into view. They raided the pantry and crashed in the food preparation room behind a rack of chef hats.

The outliers this year had two choices: go up, or go down. Going up was the most common choice for tributes from the upper districts. Several of them recognized the grand staircase from history books and knew that they were on the Titanic. They wanted to be up high when the fateful night arrived that the Titanic would sink. Hemlock and Bonsai had allied prior to the games. Hemlock had a seven and Bonsai a cool eight. On the move, they would probably be the biggest threat besides the careers. It took them an hour or so of wandering through the maze of ornate passageways until they hit open sunlight. On the Titanic's main deck, Hemlock and Bonsai admired the sight of the vast ocean, sparkling far underneath them like polished glass. Bonnie had a bountiful turnout from the bloodbath. Well-stocked with a backpack of barbed wire, several knives, and several jugs of clean water, she didn't have much to worry about as far as survival was concerned. Bonnie emerged into the outside world around noon, but turned back around and delved back into the ship, preferring the warmth of the ship's interior to the biting wind and annoying whirring of the seawater. Bonnie made her home in one of the first class cabins. She had a beautiful bed and cabinet filled with several changes of clothes. Everything in the cabin was exquisite, and it wasn't hard to imagine that a king or queen could have lived there. Stanley was desperate for a shower. His shirt was soaked with sweat from the bloodbath, and a couple of cuts and scrapes left his arms and legs caked with dried blood. Stanley settled into one of the second class cabins on B Deck. There wasn't a shower in the cabin, so he scrubbed himself off with a wet washcloth. Afterward, he tried on some of the sharp-looking outfits from the wardrobe to occupy himself.

Travelling downward was a much more popular choice amongst the outliers. Ariel had gone down to G Deck when she chose to stop walking for the day. G Deck was one of the few decks with no passenger cabins. Ariel made herself at home in a somewhat claustrophobic low-ceilinged room where bags of fruit were being stored. The aroma of the food was too strong to resist. Ariel used her nails to break open one of the bags of oranges and ate six of them in one sitting, left sucking her fingers. Cider dared to travel as far down as she could on the great ship, wanting to place as much distance between herself and the careers as possible. The ship was beautiful. If she could, she would walk through it with her mouth hanging open with awe all day. However, she had to sleep. She had gotten down to F Deck when she decided to sleep for the night. Cider stumbled into one of the third class cabins and fell into the bed. Jonah hadn't gotten much from the bloodbath: just a stubby little pail, and even that he had risked his life to obtain. Jonah went down to G Deck and found himself in the mail storage room. It was an intriguing sight to behold. The mail room was small. It was only about twenty feet long on each side. The walls were lined with shelves, and the shelves were covered with crates and sacks of letters and packages. A desk stood at the far end of the room, cluttered with letters. Jonah sat down in the wheelie chair just for a short break and passed out, having left the door of the mailroom open. Organza had a kill under her belt, which was one more than all of the other outliers combined. Most of the sponsors that weren't interested in the career pack sent their money toward her; as such, she had a massive assortment of supplies. Her collection included several knives and a tomahawk, as well as a small vial of burn cream, a package of dried pork, and a rolled-up sleeping bag. Organza planned to go hunting the next morning, but she took the entire remainder of Day 1 to settle down and get situated. Organza bounced around the ship for a while before barricading herself into one of the second class passenger cabins on F Deck. The door had no lock, so she cut out a piece of carpet with her knife and wedged it under the door, hopefully keeping it closed. Organza spent the day practicing with her weapons and organizing her supplies, occasionally peeking out the window at the sparkling waterline. Peony was a hard-working girl. Despite her young age and seemingly minute chances of winning, she would stop at nothing to organize herself and be prepared for the difficult games ahead. She wormed her way down a series of staircases to G Deck, and then down to the cargo hold. She closed the trapdoor behind her and climbed down the ladder into the storage room. Huge wooden crates lined the walls, with one big catwalk overhead. Peony pried open one of the crates and took out its contents: a bit of spare cloth and sewing needles. She threw the supplies up onto the catwalk and then climbed up the ladder after them. Up there, Peony bundled the fabric into a big cozy blob for her to sleep in. The only downside was that she was right above the boiler rooms, and the whine of machinery was always present. Fleeing the bloodbath with a bowl and juice box, Tristan was on F Deck when a mouth-watering aroma caught his attention. Tristan followed the smell to one of the bathing rooms. The room was made out of black tile, with an ornate golden countertop. Beside the countertop was a big bathtub on four legs. A table sat beside the bathtub, cluttered with shampoos and other cleaning products. The scent was coming from a rack of sweet-smelling bath bombs that leaned against the wall at the far end of the room. Tristan plopped one of the bath bombs into the tub and then turned on the hot water, watching the shining colors cloud the clear liquid. Leaving his clothes on for decency, he sank down into the hot water and sighed. It was so luxurious; he almost forgot he was in the Hunger Games. He was enjoying his stay on the ship of dreams. But the peace would not last long. Blood would soon stain the walls and floor of the ship.

The careers were up bright and early the morning of Day 2. They got hunting straight away. Thinking that prey was more likely to be hiding below them in the depths of the beautiful ship, they climbed down a couple stairwells to F Deck. The careers were absorbed in conversation when Chiffon silenced the others. She was picking up on a faint, pleasant aroma. One by one, the other careers noticed the scent. They didn't think twice before following it. It wasn't long before they found themselves in front of an dark-colored wooden door. Chiffon turned the handle and walked inside. She tiptoed into the dark room and heard a piercing scream off to her left. Tristan had fallen asleep the night before in the bathtub, and he awoke to the terrifying sight of the five strong careers galloping toward him with their weapons.

Tristan hoisted himself out of the tub. His sopping-wet clothes trailed water over the ground. He didn't make it three steps before he slid across a puddle of warm water and fell forward onto the tiled floor. The careers sped to his side, and he was dead in no time. Chiffon drove her dagger into the side of his neck, clouding the water on the floor with red. His cannon shot seemed to shake the whole Titanic. The careers all tramped around the room in pursuit of Tristan's supplies. Lyme found his bowl and juice box underneath the bathtub. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. The five all tramped out of the room in triumph, having whittled down the crop of outliers by one.

Tristan Luckacher, District 12 Male: 15th, Killed by Chiffon, Day 2

The rest of Day 2 passed without any extra deaths. The careers kept drilling dutifully around F Deck in search of prey, but their hunting efforts were fruitless. When night fell, they returned to the cornucopia at the base of the grand staircase. Taking inspiration from the careers of the forty-ninth Hunger Games, Pumice stayed up after all of his allies were asleep. He grabbed a paper and pen and explored much of the deck, drawing a map on the paper as he travelled. Pumice had mapped nearly the entire deck when he grew too tired to continue. He made the trans-arena trek back to the cornucopia, set the map beside his sleeping bag, and fell asleep.

Atop B Deck, Hemlock and Bonsai got a lot of work done. Bonsai, armed with an axe, delved down a few decks into the ship to gather supplies. She raided the first class dining room of food. Bonsai found a jug of water in the fridge and stole it as well. By the time she met up with Hemlock on top of the great ship, he had found a great place to live. Hemlock had laid out the alliance's supplies on the first class promenade, sorted into three categories: weapons, survival, and convenience. Hemlock and Bonsai feasted on chocolate mousse and chicken from the dining room and talked about their lives back in District 7. Bonnie slept in until noon before she finally lugged herself out of the first class cabin. She packed up her supplies, gripped a knife in each hand, and left the room without a plan to ever return. Bonnie took up a search for food. She found herself in the second class lounge. Bonnie gathered as much food from the pantry as she could and lounged on the fat sofa. Stanley woke up surrounded by inside-out suits and costumes that he had tried on the day before. He stuffed the clothes under the bed and paced around the second class cabin aimlessly. Ariel stayed put in the cargo hold, feasting on oranges. Her mentor Beatrice delivered her a note saying that she should get moving if she wanted to stay a relevant character in the games. Ariel foolishly discarded the note, not wanting to leave the security of her safe space below the waterline. Cider left her third class cabin around eight in the morning to use the bathroom. She travelled up one deck when her heart nearly stopped. Cider saw a figure moving toward her down the hallway. Though Cider didn't know it, that figure was Organza. Cider flew in the opposite direction and collapsed in one of the reading and writing rooms. The carpet on the floor and soundproofed walls made everything eerily silent. Cider was alone, kept company only by her heartbeat. Jonah kept put in the mail room on G Deck. He refused to get up for any reason, and spent the entire day in the green wheelie chair with the door of the mail room wide open. Organza kept up her hunt, wanting to thin the crowd of tributes and impress the sponsors. After several fruitless hours of hunting, Woof sent a suggestion to travel upward, where the hallways were less claustrophobic. Up there, she would have more space to move around and a wider point of view. She was happy to comply, running up the stairwells until she reached B Deck. By that time, she was too exhausted to hunt, so she took a rest on the couch in the first class smoke room.

Peony experienced an epiphany on Day 2. She was on an expedition through the cargo hold when she noticed words stamped on the side of one crate. RMS Titanic. Suddenly, Peony let out a cry. School lessons and history books flew back to her, like pieces of a puzzle crashing down into place. April 15, 1912. The freezing water. The iceberg. Everything crashed onto her like a pile of bricks. Her feet were running before her brain could catch up. She scurried up the ladder to G Deck and raced across the third class promenade, bawling to herself. Peony climbed the stairwells all the way up to A Deck, wanting to be as high as possible when the ship hit the iceberg. Peony crumpled to the brightly-colored carpet in the first class lounge and cried until there were no tears left in her. It was a pathetic display of cowardice as far as the games were concerned, but it felt amazing for Peony to let out her tears.

The morning of Day 3, Peony woke up in the same spot. Was it just her imagination? Or did she hear a whimpering sound? Peony got to her feet to investigate. Her face was raw from scratching against the carpet, and dried tears stained her cheeks. She followed the sound to a large metal cage. Three adorable little puppies were inside of the cage. Their ears flopped around and their tails wagged. They panted at Peony, asking to be released. Peony laughed and sat down on the floor. With all of the stress she was going through, she thought it would be great to play with the cute puppy dogs. She reached out and unlatched the cage.

The three dogs immediately bolted out the cage and opened their mouths, revealing teeth as sharp as steak knives. Peony screamed and staggered away from the dogs. They unfurled claws like daggers. Their breath stank of bad meat. Peony fumbled around for a weapon and picked up a lovely wooden chair. She leapt onto the couch, holding the chair in front of her. The dogs snarled and crept forward.

Peony lashed out with the chair, knocking one of the puppies in the face. It careened sideways and smashed into a coffee table. It was out of combat, at least for now. The dogs leapt onto the sofa and pounced toward her, their claws puncturing the couch and tearing up the stuffing. Peony jumped off of the sofa and ran for the door. The brown puppy dog that she had knocked out first was back to its senses. It leapt in front of Peony, blocking her path to the door. She turned around and found herself trapped between the carnivorous canines. Out of desperation, Peony tried to crush them with her feet. She lashed out with her right foot, but two of the puppies sank their teeth into the ankle. She screamed and fell onto the floor. She tried to drag herself away, but the dogs were on top of her, savoring the taste of flesh after so long trapped in their cage. Her blood stained the carpet an evil shade of red. The second her cannon shot faded away fully, the puppies ran for the exit, ready to search the Titanic's decks for seconds.

Peony Atil, District 11 Female: 14th, Killed by Puppy Muttations, Day 3

The dogs would have been incredibly cute if not for the fact that they were vicious in virtually every fashion imaginable. Their tiny little feet scampered across the ground, tails wagging behind. The largest puppy, who must have been the leader, travelled in front, flanked on either side by its two friends.

They hadn't travelled far before they heard Hemlock and Bonsai's soft snores. After a hard day of work the day prior, they were rewarding themselves by sleeping in. The dogs curiously crept forward. The smallest of the three dogs began licking Bonsai's face. Bonsai awoke from a pleasant dream and laughed. She had a dog of her own at home, and she was glad to feel his warm welcome to the new day.

Within seconds, Bonsai was screaming at the top of her lungs. The dog's saliva was extremely poisonous. The highly acidic solution was burning away her face. The skin burned like fire all the way through, and papery layers of burned skin were falling away from the poison. Her screams awoke nearby Hemlock. Hemlock rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands. His eyes widened with horror when the largest of the three puppies lashed out at Bonsai. It raked its chorus of sharp claws across her face. Hemlock sat, dumbfounded, as the puppy's two comrades joined in on the cause, turning Bonsai into the world's largest doggie biscuit.

Bonsai Davenport, District 7 Female: 13th, Killed by Puppy Muttations, Day 3

While the puppy mutts were engrossed in Bonsai's mangled corpse, Hemlock turned sharply on his heel and sprinted away. He raced a few hundred feet down the promenade and sighed when he saw a door. Seeking refuge inside of the ship, he threw open the door and ducked inside.

Hemlock slammed the door behind him and sprinted down a few stairwells. He felt like a million bricks had been lifted off of his back. He was back inside the safety of the ship, where the dogs couldn't reach him. He looked around to get an idea of where he was. He was at…the base of the grand staircase. All five of the careers, preparing for their morning hunt, were glaring at him and grinning.

Hemlock didn't even flinch before the nearest careers, Lyme and Pumice, were on top of him. Pumice flung his sword into Hemlock's wrist, piercing one of his veins. Blood spouted out of the wound like a waterfall. Hemlock screamed and made a desperate attempt to scramble away, but Lyme stood in his way. He was too tired and battered to protest as Lyme swept her wolverine claws across his face and neck mercilessly. Lotion, Chiffon, and Hull gathered around to watch Hemlock die. His cannon shot was their cue to get back on schedule, and they left for their hunt less than a minute later.

Hemlock Milsosz, District 7 Male: 12th, Killed by Pumice and Lyme, Day 3

Few things of note transpired throughout the rest of Day 3. No more deaths occurred. Bonnie realized just how vulnerable she was lying on the couch in the second class lounge. Not wanting to move so quickly after setting up her base, however, she hatched a plan. Bonnie unzipped her backpack of barbed wire and lined the doorways with the stuff. She also bunched up the spiked wire around some of the pillows. That way she could throw them like weapons if needed. Stanley was from District 6, and he wanted to take a little peek into the boiler rooms. He knew that many ships were built in the district of transportation, but he had never seen a boiler room up close and personal. Stanley ventured downward and climbed down a small hatch into one of the boiler rooms toward the bow of the ship. He instantly clapped his hands over his ears. The whining of machinery and scream of the self-powered coal engines rang in his ears. Stanley tried to climb back out of the room, but his foot got lodged between the rungs of the ladder. In his struggle to free his foot, he tumbled backward. Stanley fell ten feet down the ladder and landed on his left arm with a thump. A crack soon followed. He had snapped the bones in his left arm, and he was unable to do anything but cry and shake as the pain bolted through his body. Ariel was a stubborn girl; despite constant warnings from her mentor to evacuate the cargo hold and move to higher decks, she stayed as still as a statue and munched on oranges. Cider gathered herself and left the reading and writing room. After getting so close to Organza the day before, she travelled as silently as she could through the ship's elegant hallways. Cider found herself in the first class dining room, undoubtedly the most beautiful room in the ship. Hundreds of tables were placed evenly throughout the room, with sweet-smelling wooden chairs surrounding each one. Elaborate leather placemats and shining silverware were cluttered around every table. Every table held a vase of breathtakingly beautiful flowers seemingly stolen from a dream. Cider ducked down behind the serving desk and occupied herself by counting the number of tables through the crack at the bottom of the desk. Organza kept on hunting, but she was growing disheartened at her inability to find prey. Her mentor Woof sent her a note encouraging her to keep going, that she was closer than ever before to striking lucky. She was completely drained of energy, though, and snoozed away in one of the first class cabins. Jonah kept lazily lolling around in the mail room on G Deck. One of his sponsors urged him to get up and moving, so he walked about two steps and crashed into a pile of mail sacks. In any other games, Feodore should have sent some mutts to kill him off. However, he wanted to have lots of tributes when the real climax of the games took place—the sinking of the great Titanic.

The light hours of Day 4 came about completely lifelessly, empty of conflict or movement. The outliers were all well-stocked and where they needed to be. The only movement was in the career pack. They hunted down the first class promenade up until about nine in the morning, when Lyme suggested they travel upward as far as they could. She started up the nearest stairwell. Her allies followed behind, and it wasn't long until they emerged onto the deck of the ship. Pumice and Chiffon were sent out to hunt while Lotion, Lyme, and Hull set up their home. Pumice and Chiffon came back a few minutes before sunset and proudly reported that the deck of the ship was clear of outliers.

As all five of them sat down to eat dinner, they noticed small chunks of ice passing by in the water underneath. Weird.

The careers all went to bed at their usual time, with one exception. Hull decided to stay up late. He had always been fascinated by huge ships, and he wanted to explore the deck of the Titanic. After investigating a good fourth of the deck, he decided to head back to their camp. It was almost midnight, after all. Hull was about halfway to his allies when his heart stopped. A horrible screeching sound filled the air. It was the loudest sound he had ever heard. It was like a jarring symphony of a million hideous nails being scraped against brick. Hull sped all of the way back to the camp to warn the others. They were already up, having been awoken by the sound.

They all peered over the side of the ship together. The Titanic had scraped against a chunk of ice about the size of a small house. It didn't look large enough to cause any damage to the mighty ship, but Hull warned that icebergs were often larger than they looked because so much of them was underwater.

Below decks, it was a scene of absolute chaos. The iceberg had torn a hole through a good portion of the ship. The boiler rooms were now flooding with freezing seawater. Over the course of several hours, Stanley had begun to get used to the sound of the ship's engines. But the sound of the iceberg was a million times louder. Within minutes, water began creeping into the room he was in. Stanley let out a mewl of panic and started for the ladder. All of a sudden, the wall of the boiler room was wobbling back and forth. It was as if a great weight were pressing against the other side, and the wall was fighting with all of its might to hold strong. Stanley hadn't even laid a finger on the ladder's first rung when the wall burst. An explosion of green foam came rushing into the room. Stanley tried to scurry up the ladder, but the water consumed him first.

The water was colder than ice. It was so cold it felt like fire. It was so cold that his entire body was suddenly paralyzed. The churning of the water forced Stanley to the bottom of the room. No matter how hard he fought to swim upward, he was crushed against the floor. Panicked, he inhaled an entire breath of seawater, and it was all over from there. He drowned to death within minutes, the first to die as the ship sank into the icy sea.

Stanley Dupioni, District 6 Male: 11th, Killed by Drowning, Day 4

Ariel was a heavy sleeper. The sound of the Titanic striking the iceberg didn't wake her. However, her eyes bolted awake a few minutes after. Her foot felt very cold. She groggily looked around and jumped to her feet. Now she knew what Beatrice was warning her about. A good portion of the cargo hold was flooded with water. Hundreds of wooden crates and sacks of cargo bobbed on the surface, and it was rushing quickly toward the exit. Leaving all of her supplies behind, Ariel sped for the exit. Ariel thundered up the nearest stairwell and sprinted randomly through the third class hallways in pursuit of another staircase.

Nearby Organza was fortunately able to notice that the ship was taking on water before it was too late. She was lying around in her third class cabin when she noticed water creeping in through the bottom of the door. She was paralyzed with shock for a few seconds. Organza threw off the covers, walked to the door, and peeked in the hallway. She couldn't believe her eyes. Water was spilling into the hallway. The rooms toward the end of the hall looked completely submerged. The water was up to her cabin. Organza rushed back into her cabin, shut the door, and gathered up her supplies. On the bed, she threw her weapons into her backpack. Cold ocean water was now spraying in through the sides of the door. The level of water looked to be about a foot high. By the time she had packed everything up, the door looked like it was about to burst. The water outside the hallway was almost four feet high. Inside the cabin, the water was up to Organza's knees.

Organza swallowed hard and treaded to the door. The second she turned the knob, the door flew open. Water came rushing in, scattering the bedspreads and knocking over the dressers in the cabin. Organza was crushed against the back wall of the room, and she quickly realized that she couldn't make haste carrying so many supplies. She took only the bare necessities from the pack and then fought her way to the door. Once she was in the hallway, her lungs were screaming for air. She swam opposite the direction the sea water had come and tumbled out of the mess of icy water. She retched onto the ground, shaking. Organza finally got to her feet and continued running toward safety, the lights flickering above her as the Titanic began its plunge into the ocean.

Organza and Ariel, the only tributes in third class, crashed into each other a few minutes after midnight. Ariel yelped at the sight of her knife, but Organza calmed her and said that she wasn't going to hurt her. They both locked arms as they ran down the hallway, allies. Organza and Ariel soon came to a wooden gate. On the other side of the gate was a stairwell leading upward. The two girls laughed with relief. Ariel reached out to open the gate. Their joy soon turned to dread. She rattled the gate back and forth. It wouldn't budge. It was locked.

Shaking, Organza produced her knife and tried to pick the lock. It was a useless effort. The tip of the blade was too fat to fit into the keyhole. She whirled around at the sound of Ariel's screams. A splash of water was rushing down the hall to meet them. If they didn't come up with an idea soon, the hall would flood and they would have no chance of survival.

Organza lodged her blade into part of the wooden fence. She and Ariel sawed the blade back and forth. After a few painful seconds, they had cut through the wood. They worked together for several minutes to cut a gash in the gate about four feet long. The two girls kept sawing until they had cut a perpendicular line two feet long. They were trying to cut a square that they could then fit through. By the time they had cut the third side of the square, the water reached them. The water was so cold that Ariel crumpled to the ground with agony. Organza pointed toward a nearby pile of crates and instructed Ariel to retrieve two of them. She came back with the two crates. The girls stood on the crates as they worked, a few feet out of the quickly rising water.

Ariel and Organza were sweating with panic. They were a few inches into the fourth side of the square when the water was up to their knees. The pain was so bad that both girls screamed as they worked. They had no choice but to put in their all. It was their only hope of survival. They were a few inches from finishing the last side of the square, and the water was up to their shoulders. They literally had to keep their mouths pressed to the ceiling in order to breathe.

The partners urged each other to saw the material as hard as they could. They still had hope, however faint. At that point, they were less than an inch from completing the square and escaping. They both took the deepest breaths they could. Just in time, too. It wasn't two seconds later that the waterline met with the ceiling and no air remained. Organza and Ariel sawed and sawed at the wood. They sawed for their friends and family back home. They sawed with the last ounces of strength they had. Finally, they completed the square. If they could fit through the open space, they would be free.

The two lunged for the hole, trying desperately to fit through. Ariel's small size allowed her to slip through without much trouble. She swam up the staircase and gulped air gratefully when she stepped out onto dry tile. A few feet down, however, Organza was struggling. Her broad shoulders could not fit through the hole she and Ariel had carved. She sank to the floor. Every muscle in her body felt like lead. A sort of peace washed over Organza. The bite of the freezing water on every square inch of her body was nothing. She silently prayed that Ariel would find safety before her body gave up fighting and she died. Meanwhile, Ariel ran up one more stairwell (this one unlocked). She then ducked into one of the third class cabins that hadn't yet been consumed by the chilling black ocean and wrung out her clothes. Now dry and much warmer, she continued her hunt for solace in the higher decks of the ship.

Organza Indigo, District 8 Female: 10th, Killed by Drowning, Day 5

The next tribute immediately at risk was lazy old Jonah. He was awoken by the rumbling of the iceberg against the side of the ship. Suspecting it was the growling of a nearby muttation, he crushed himself even harder into the pile of mail on the floor. One would think he was stupid for staying still and ignoring constant warnings for the whole games, but one can't really blame him. In a situation as stressful as the games, his brain only thought what it wanted to think. Used to a relatively comfortable life back home, the chaos of killing other district children was alien to his conventional brain.

That all changed when the first tide of foamy water washed into the mail room. Jonah screamed when the water splashed into the pile of letters he was sitting in. The envelopes and parcels scattered, bobbing around the room. Jonah waded through the freezing water, hissing with pain. He used the wheelie chair to climb up onto the mailman's desk. Up there, he had some time to think. The water was rising fast. He tried to remember the path he had taken to the room, but the information was missing from his brain. The water finally splashed overtop the desk, and he had to either move quickly or die.

Jonah dove into the water and swam for the doorway. It was hard to make any sort of coordinated movement in the bitter chill of the swirling water. By the time Jonah reached the door, the water was nearly up to the ceiling. He dragged himself down the flooded hallway. The water was moving down the hall faster than he was. He was running out of oxygen, and scarily fast. He had no hope of escape, and the icy water claimed his life before continuing to swallow down the once-beautiful ship of dreams.

Jonah Allaway, District 10 Male: 9th, Killed by Drowning, Day 5

That left the final eight: Lotion Wiles and Chiffon Janecki from District 1, Pumice Badnersh and Lyme Mabbett from District 2, Bonnie Toole from District 3, Hull McKay from District 4, Ariel Vermeule from District 6, and Cider Lake from District 9.

Up on the boat's cold deck, there was mayhem. After the ship scraped against the mighty iceberg, the careers stayed up for about an hour and paced around nervously. Pumice suggested that they go back to sleep, saying that there was nothing to worry about. Lotion woke up screaming about thirty minutes later. The freezing seawater was sloshing over his legs. The other careers bolted awake. They frantically gathered their supplies and high-tailed toward safer areas of the ship. The Titanic was jutting out of the ocean at a twenty degree angle. The careers all reached the stern of the ship within five minutes. Out of desperation, they tried lugging as much weight toward the stern as they could, as if they could weigh the stern back down and correct the angle of the ship. It was hopeless, and they were left clinging onto the rail of the Titanic as it slid down into the sea.

Cider had awoken hours earlier from the hideous screech of the ship against the iceberg. Too scared to move from underneath the serving desk of the first class dining room, she eventually fell back asleep. Cider woke up around one in the morning. A horrifying idea squirmed in her stomach like a black worm. Was it just her imagination? Or was the floor… tilting? Cider shakily stood up, and her heart skipped a beat. The rising water had reached the first class dining room now. On one side of the room, water was flooding in. It splashed around the feet of the chairs and tables. It just rose and rose. Cider stood dumfounded for several minutes. The foaming green ocean water was now flooding overtop of the tables. China bobbed on the surface of the water. Silverware floated to and fro.

Her eyes landed on the entrance to the room. There was only one problem. The path to the door was blocked by at least a yard of water. She swallowed hard and stepped into the water, then instantly pulled back her foot. The water was so cold that her foot and ankle felt like they were engulfed in flames. She could not go in that water.

She frantically looked around and then grabbed a serving tray. To her surprise, the tray was buoyant. She experimentally set it on the surface of the water that was creeping slowly through the dining room. Cider sat down on it like a sleigh. Cider kicked off with her foot and she was off. She rode over the water atop the tray. A whole cluster of dishes floated her way, and she had to bat them aside to keep moving. A pair of salad tossers drifted past. A chair made of glossy dark wood rushed past. Groans and creaks called out from within the ship. Cider finally reached the door. She reached out and turned the handle. Cider cursed. Locked. She began to panic. She threw her entire body weight at the door, but it didn't budge.

Cider needed a change of plans. She paddled back to dry land and dismounted the serving tray. Cider raced to the kitchen and snatched up the first knife she encountered. She ran back out into the dining room. Cider went up to the nearest window and stabbed the tip of the knife into the glass. It created a tiny crack. The second class promenade was on the other side of the window. If she could reach it, she would be able to race to the stern of the ship. She cursed and scratched into the strong glass. Walking back a few feet, Cider readied her knife. She lunged forward and smashed the window with her knife. Shards of glass flew every which way. They embedded themselves into the carpet, into the ceiling, and, unfortunately, into her eye.

Within a minute, the water was as high as Cider's waist. She waded through the icy water. Suddenly, the Titanic lurched suddenly to one direction. The ship was now tipping up thirty degrees. All of the closet and pantry doors fell open. One cupboard directly above Cider held a case of knives. Cider was too stunned to react as the knives all tumbled out of the cupboard and flung down into her skin. Cider screamed, her blood painting the water around her red like food coloring. With so much blood lost, she couldn't survive long in the cold water. Cider couldn't find the energy to move any further as the icy sea water reached her shoulders, then her neck, then her chin. Finally, it covered her head, and she slid to the floor like a sock puppet.

Cider Lake, District 9 Female: 8th, Killed by Knives and Drowning, Day 5

Above deck, it was becoming harder and harder to hold onto the ship as it slid down into the icy sea. The Titanic was now jutting out into the air at a forty-five degree angle. Tables and chairs slid down and crashed into the sea. At the stern of the ship, the five careers were holding onto each other in one big circle to keep from falling off of the sinking ship. Pumice and Chiffon were clutching onto the rail, with Lyme, Lotion, and Hull hanging onto them and digging their heels into the wooden deck to keep still.

Chiffon's hand was growing very sweaty. Her district partner Lotion was holding onto it, and, all at once, their grip slipped. Lotion screamed as he slid down the deck of the ship on his bum like a bobsled run. Chiffon scrambled to help him, but she wasn't fast enough. Lotion went ker-sploosh into the ocean. The force of the churning water tore him to a pulp almost instantly.

Lotion Wiles, District 1 Male: 7th, Torn Apart by Water, Day 5

The only two remaining tributes below deck fought their hardest to escape, with varying degrees of success. Ariel sprinted up several stairwells and found herself on B Deck, in the practice room of the Titanic's orchestra. The music room was extravagantly decorated, with chairs elegantly carved from ebony and music stands fashioned from metal as dark as the night.

Ariel sprinted into the music room. She heard a clicking sound and whirled around. The door had closed, and locked, behind her. A whimper tumbled from her lips as she shook the door handle. It wouldn't budge. Panic began to set in as water crept in from underneath the door. She had seen that demon of water once before, downstairs with Organza. It was coming for her again. Ariel ran to the far edge of the room, where it was as dry as a bone. The water was now pouring into the room. It seeped in through the edges of the door and splashed across the carpet. Ariel climbed up the conductor's podium, the highest point in the room. She needed time to think.

With so much of the ship filled with water, it was sinking faster than ever. In less than two minutes, the water had reached the base of the podium. In one minute more, it was up to her ankles. Stands and music instruments crashed to the floor. A violin with frayed and broken strings sailed past. A cello rode the current. Hundreds of pages of sheet music, now slimy rags, bobbed atop the water. Ariel only had so much time to hatch a plan. She waded through the freezing water toward the door. Ariel grabbed the nearest music instrument—a French-style viola—and slammed it into the door. The instrument shattered, its fingerboard snapping off and the strings splitting and fraying. She had made a dent about a millimeter deep in the strong door.

She ended up prying the door upon using a few large screwdrivers. She spit out foul sea water and took a gulp of fresh air. Fortunately, a stairwell was nearby. Ariel scurried up the staircase. Cold night air washed over her. She was on the deck of the ship. Ariel laughed with relief. Her smile faded when she saw the black sea creeping toward her. After a few seconds of running, she collapsed to her knees. The ship was so steep that running up it felt like running up a mountain. After a few hundred feet of running, Ariel collapsed to the ground, unable to move any farther. Within ten minutes, the water reached her once more. She tried to run, but just didn't have the energy. The fire of her exhausted muscles and the fire of the freezing water morphed together into the worst pain Ariel had felt in her life. She was sucked down with the sinking Titanic, so close to safety yet so far.

Ariel Vermeule, District 6 Female: 6th, Killed by Drowning, Day 5

That left only one tribute below decks. It was Bonnie from District 3. With all of the chaos going on, Bonnie had been forgotten by most of the audience and by Caesar. Bonnie was on A Deck when the water reached her. She was on one of the highest decks of the ship, and she didn't seem to be concerned until the water actually reached the room she was in, the first class smoking room. Knowing it was time to go, Bonnie sprinted out of the room up toward the stern.

Bonnie saw the four careers clutching the ship's rail, holding on for dear life. She herself could feel that the ship was getting steeper and steeper. The Titanic stuck out of the sea at a fifty degree angle. It was a huge struggle to reach safety. The lights flickered behind her as she dragged herself to the stern. In any other instance, the careers probably would have killed her, but they were too absorbed in trying not to fall off of the sinking ship that they didn't bother her. Bonnie clutched the rail beside them and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping for the best.

The ship was sinking faster than ever before. It was now jutting nearly fifty-five degrees out of the ocean. The lights on the Titanic flickered. Then, suddenly, they all went dark. The entire Titanic was bathed in darkness. It was so dark that none of the tributes could see more than three feet in front of their faces. The great ship cried out louder than ever before. Walls and ceilings were bending and snapping. Areas of the ship close to the waterline were unable to hold up the rising stern's weight.

Crack! The Titanic snapped in half like a toy. Like God's boot heel, the stern came crashing down into the water. The careers and Bonnie screamed as they plummeted down hundreds of feet. Water rushed in to fill the gap where the split had occurred. The bow was now gone, sinking down into the icy black sea.

It was a huge relief to finally be parallel to the water once more. The burden of having to hold onto the rail was lifted off of them, for a brief time. It wasn't long before the stern began raising itself into the black sky. Titanic was now completely vertical, forming a right angle with the black ocean. It began its final plunge. Bonnie and the careers were now struggling to get up onto the rail. The rail, once vertical, was now horizontal, creating a flat platform on which to stand. Within a few minutes, they all managed to get up onto it. They were now riding the Titanic down into the water like an elevator. Within minutes, the entire ship would be under the waves.

Now that they were in a safer position, Pumice lunged at Bonnie. Bonnie was knocked off of her feet and crashed down onto the rail. Her feet were dangling over the edge, hundreds of feet into the air. It seemed a bit dishonorable to be fighting in a time of such peril, but Pumice wanted to put on an action-packed finale for the Capitol. Bonnie felt the bite of Pumice's sword in her gut. She groaned and tipped sideways. Bonnie tumbled off the rail and free-fell down into the ocean. The splash she made into the sea was barely noticeable amidst the violent churning of the water.

Bonnie Toole, District 3 Female: 5th, Killed by Pumice, Day 5

"Hey!" shouted Hull, Lyme, and Chiffon as one. Evidently, they didn't agree with the order of his priorities. In such a chaotic situation, they were super mad at him for killing off Bonnie. Hull lunged at Pumice and lashed out with his knife. Pumice stumbled backward as blood spurted from his wound. Lyme quickly joined, slashing her wolverine claws across his face. Pumice went limp on the metal rail, and Lyme did the honors of kicking him off into the sea.

Pumice Badnersh, District 2 Male: 4th, Killed by Hull and Lyme, Day 5

The angry black monster of the sea was flying upward now. The stern section of the once-beautiful Titanic was a rumbling monolith against the stars. Hull, Chiffon, and Lyme scrambled toward the highest part of the rail, able to do nothing but wait for the worst. The drone cameras flying overhead rode the Titanic down into the water along with the three careers. Far beneath them, pockets of air in the rapidly sinking bow section were exploding, rattling the world back and forth.

The roaring, foaming demon of the water was less than a hundred feet below them. Chiffon, Hull, and Lyme quietly wept, scared of the churning black water and their fate. In its descent, an underwater pocket of air in the stern imploded. A burst of air came rushing to the surface, shaking the vertical ship. The iron of the ship bent and twisted like taffy. Chiffon and Lyme were clutching the rail hard enough to stay still. Hull, however, was not. He was thrown off of the stern. Hull screamed and flailed his limbs as he dropped like a stone into the water.

Hull McKay, District 4 Male: 3rd, Killed by Drowning, Day 5

Chiffon and Lyme bit their lips in anticipation and fear. They were fifty feet above the water. Thirty feet.

"Best of luck, friend," Lyme said to Chiffon.

"You too," Chiffon replied in a shaky voice, nodding.

The ship screamed beneath the two career girls. The force of the churning water was tearing the iron ship apart. They squeezed their eyes shut. The final stretch of the RMS Titanic was tugged down into the freezing sea.

Where the grand Titanic had once been, there was nothing. Only the black ocean.

Chiffon and Lyme rocketed to the surface. The ocean water was so cold that it felt like fire. The freezing cold pressed into every square inch of their bodies and crushed their bones. It was so dark that they couldn't see a foot in front of their faces. The girls' limbs felt as stiff as titanium, but they paddled for all they were worth. Lyme was the first to find safety. She found a beam of wood that must have broken off of the ship during the sinking. Lyme dragged herself onto the beam and waited. She couldn't bear to look at the black ocean, so she looked at the stars. Stars like she had never seen before in her life. A glorious band from horizon to horizon. It was as cold as a meat locker.

About thirty feet away, Chiffon reached safety. She dragged herself onto a plastic lawn chair. It was extremely difficult to stay on, as the ocean waves were constantly trying to throw her off. Just like the finale of last year's games, it was a contest of who could last longer. Chiffon and Lyme both fought hard. After nearly ten minutes, though, lady luck had to choose one to die and one to live. Chiffon's body went limp from hypothermia. She plopped down into the ocean as Lyme clung onto her life, the sole survivor of the fifty-first Hunger Games.

Chiffon Janecki, District 1 Female: 2nd, Killed by Hypothermia, Day 5

"Lyme Mabbett of District 2, you are the victor of the fifty-first annual Hunger Games!" Caesar called.

Lyme didn't respond. She remained motionless on the floating beam of wood as the hovercraft rushed down to whisk her away to the fame and fortune that would engulf the rest of her life.

Lyme Mabbett, District 2 Female: Victor of the Fifty-First Hunger Games, Day 5


AFTERMATH

The people of District 2 welcomed their thirteenth victor with wild applause. As their thirteenth, the district of masonry now had more than a dozen members in their growing lineup of victors. The Capitol couldn't get enough of Lyme, as she was a confident and powerful young woman. Of course, she made the other career districts furious, and there were many rude remarks thrown her way.

Lyme settled into the Victor's Village of District 2.

Her victory tour was average, and nothing of note transpired throughout it.

Lyme would live to the age of sixty, dying from a stroke around the time of the ninety-fifth annual Hunger Games. After her games, she developed an intense phobia of dark water. Despite the best psychological treatment the Capitol had to offer, she would become anxious around rivers and lakes at night for the rest of her life. She would marry twice, once to a man and once to a woman. She would have three children in her lifetime, but, sadly, only two would survive to adulthood.


NEWS

Lyme moves into the Victor's Village of District 2.

Woof Dozier has his second child with his wife, a girl he calls Fleece.


LIST OF VICTORS

1HG: Cordin Frey (#1, District 3)
2HG: Sapphire Waber (#1, District 1)
3HG: Molly Toliday (#1, District 4)
4HG: Amelia Spangler (#1, District 2)
5HG: Misty Sablone (#1, District 12)
6HG: Olivia Seager (#2, District 2)
7HG: Flux Stafford (#2, District 3)
8HG: Brandi Coyne (#2, District 1)
9HG: Isaac Crandall (#1, District 5)
10HG: Velvet Farrow (#3, District 1)
11HG: Mags Flanagan (#2, District 4)
12HG: Slate Ogston (#3, District 2)
13HG: Woof Dozier (#1, District 8)
14HG: Blaze Skalnik (#4, District 2)
15HG: Dina Wilmarth (#2, District 5)
16HG: Beatrice Toland (#1, District 6)
17HG: Amelia Bankston (#5, District 2)
18HG: Markus Gardd (#2, District 6)
19HG: Odius Ruttler (#6, District 2)
20HG: Seeder Kaiser (#1, District 11)
21HG: Freya Digard (#7, District 2)
22HG: Gold Carson (#4, District 1)
23HG: Ashlyn Breston (#3, District 6)
24HG: Dayta Albrand (#3, District 3)
25HG: Diamond Griego (#5, District 1)
26HG: Thor Rosner (#8, District 2)
27HG: Magnet Lisagor (#4, District 3)
28HG: Maria Dutra (#3, District 4)
29HG: Discordia Komine (#9, District 2)
30HG: Barley Chisolm (#1, District 9)
31HG: Marlin Coppi (#4, District 4)
32HG: Wyatt Kerdler (#5, District 3)
33HG: Molly Soltan (#5, District 4)
34HG: Grover Handa (#1, District 7)
35HG: Troy Stiles (#6, District 4)
36HG: Lana Voltaire (#10, District 2)
37HG: Lucy Said (#7, District 4)
38HG: Porter Tripp (#3, District 5)
39HG: Penelope Turek (#8, District 4)
40HG: Beetee Latier (#6, District 3)
41HG: Radiance Clinton (#6, District 1)
42HG: Technik Hartline (#7, District 3)
43HG: Dylan Levitt (#9, District 4)
44HG: Rye Boyum (#2, District 9)
45HG: Chaff Korsmun (#2, District 11)
46HG: Nolan Wrack (#11, District 2)
47HG: Klink Byrae (#4, District 5)
48HG: Brutus Cordley (#12, District 2)
49HG: Wiress Freid (#8, District 3)
50HG: Haymitch Abernathy (#2, District 12)
51HG: Lyme Mabbett (#13, District 2)


A/N: Wowza! This chapter was a whirlwind to write. I've had the idea of the games taking place on the ill-fated RMS Titanic for several decades now, but I've never gotten around to writing it because I had so many other ideas. I hope you've enjoyed my rendition of Lyme!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and hopefully the wait for the fifty-second games won't be as long. See you all later! :D