Day Five:
Emil Robins, District Three
I've been trudging through this Arena since yesterday afternoon. By now, I'm exhausted, but the Gamemakers have kept me moving for whatever reason. Every time I tried to take a break, they lit some sort of pathway for me to follow – and, honestly, I prefer doing as they please rather than defying them.
Not sure where I am, but the area is quite bright. Water streams in the center of this large river, and across the outflow is a crystal home. It doesn't catch my attention too much, seeing as it's quite small, but the surrounding environment consists of rock walls and diamonds hanging from the ceiling's edge. There are a few of them scattered in the river, too, but that doesn't concern me.
Dragging my sword across the gravel, I draw a sad smile in the dirt. My body starts shaking, the air becoming cold all of a sudden. Chills travel all over me, and the thought of killing resurfaces my mind. Yesterday, Beckett died because of me. I threw the explosive at him, I burned him and caused him to yell, I partially cremated him.
I'm not sure where or what he is now – probably a piece of ash being blown in the sky – but I inwardly apologize. Although... he did help me out. The Capitol knows me as the goofy, fun, idiotic kid who would do anything for their amusement. And now, I think I've reached a new status level. I killed, and that's what they want to see from tributes.
Just imagine how satisfied they are with me right now. They love me ten times more because of one simple life, so what's to say they wouldn't protest against the Gamemakers to keep me alive after I kill another tribute, and then another. I mean, I don't feel good ending a person's life, but I crave so much from those outside.
I tilt my head up when a shimmering ray of sunlight caresses itself over the placid river, bestowing a golden path from the shore to the end of a small tunnel. Groaning, I continue to move, sliding across the walls to hold myself up. My feet ache, so it's necessary.
The tunnel continues to grow brighter and brighter, and I'm still trying to figure out what exactly it is that I'm supposed to come in contact with; surely I should have found it by now. It's almost as if the Gamemakers read my mind, because, in a few steps, I spot exactly what they want me to see, and an optimistic smile graces my once frowning image.
In front of me is a propeller shaft, and a quite odd-looking generator attached to it. The river flows through the generator, rippling as it moves. I'm not sure where this water leads to because of the darkness right after the immovable propeller.
''I dunno if I wanna go near there.'' Slowly backing away, I plan to turn around, but then the sky softens to a blue hue and the clouds blush like a ripe mango. The air grows delicate and cool, kissing my skin with moisture. Staring up, I fall in shock when I see the kingdom above me. It's a giant city that levels up, with each home and building hanging over the other.
The city appears dark and gloomy, like a series of numerous identical buildings with gray walls. It's nothing like I've ever seen before, and behind those buildings are mountains of all sorts, stretching way beyond what I can see. There's light reaching the top, scattered all over in multiple regions, only illuminating certain parts of the area.
There are waterfalls everywhere, and they all connect to this one single river. I hear rumbling coming from the right, and a staircase forms, leading me up to the top. Looking back at the generator, I ponder to myself.
A generator, water, and a propeller. All of that together can form an electric current that would electrocute someone. But they wouldn't bring me here if they wanted me to commit suicide. And the staircase? Someone's up there, and they're trying to get me to go after them. I can even kill them from a distance if I'm lucky. That just shows how much the Capitol is enjoying this, and they want more from me.
They want death, gore, blood and more! And who better to give it to them? Me? The unlikely boy from Three who joined the group of murderers? The smart-idiot who probably isn't even ranked that high? The crafty, innovative genius with thousands of ideas surging through his mind?
Use your intelligence in the wrong way again. You're used to it, aren't you? You've done it before, you can do it again. Another kill, another misfortune, but who cares? They love you!
Approaching the generator, I kneel over and read the engraved writing on it. It says:
To fellow discoverers, we, The Old ones, have created a general force of electricity with this newly developed device. Unfortunately, to our dismay, we have not found a great enough source to activate it due to our current location. We must travel upward, to the surface, and leave this behind. To anyone who may find this and need it, we wish you the best of luck. As advanced and highly intelligent as we are, we have failed to complete a simple task. Shame is upon us, but we'll be back for it someday. As of now, the options for this device are endless. Do to it as you please. When we return, failure will not be a part of the plan.
Staring up into the sky, I raise my thumbs up to let the Gamemakers know that I'm all in for their plan. I'm sorry for whoever is up there, but I gotta do what I gotta do... I just hope it's a guy and not a girl, because I don't know how I'd handle that.
At this point in the Games, there's no more refuge – for anyone. Only way to survive is by doing exactly what they want you to do. And I, no matter how wrong my faltering conscience tells me this is, tend to play it the way it's designed to be played.
Ocelot Harrien, District Twelve
Risking a glance behind me, I make sure that the girl from Seven isn't following me anymore. Not only her, but the flow of water as well. That giant tsunami hit yesterday and forced me away from my cave of solitude.
Being alone in the Games and trying to remain low don't work out well, in the end. I'm terribly upset because the Gamemakers are forcing another tribute towards me, but why? I thought that they loved me? I've tried so hard to do everything that they wanted from me, but I should've known better.
I'm honestly starting to feel different about the Capitol and the people there. Yeah, they're amazing and all, and people are wrong to judge them, but this is plain wrong. How can they not see that? Are their hearts made of stone or something?
When you're watching the Games at home, sitting on your sofa and hoping that your favorite tribute doesn't die, you don't pay too much attention to the fact that they have feelings, too. They're more than simple betting tools for you to collect some sort of prize off of from death and survival – they're humans, just like the Capitolites and District folk.
Sighing, I lean back and reach into my bag, looking for a water bottle. I've been parched for quite some time now, only because I've been wanting to save the last bit of my resources for important situations. Unfortunately, there's only a little drip of water left in the bottle, and I swallow it down in one go.
The drink isn't enough to satisfy my throat, but I'm thankful for what I had left. There's nothing else in my bag besides one last protein bar, but I'm not really hungry at the moment – oh, and my dagger and a pair of pants, but... yeah.
Sitting down on the grass, I strain my ears as an attempt to try and listen for any oncoming things – whether that be another tribute, a mutt, or a natural disaster. The Gamemakers have played with me enough already, though, so I think I deserve a break...
But, of course, I don't get one. Footsteps bounce against the crushed leaves, and I hold my breath to suppress a gasp. I hear panting, along with a, ''What the...'' I never did so before, but now I take in the background. There used to be mountains here, but they've all eroded away and have shrunken due to the amount of water that washed over this region.
Ironically, I hear a splashing noise, and a drop of water taps itself on the top of my head. ''Oh... no!'' I say, a little too loud.
''Who's there?'' Seven asks. She begins moving again, her footfalls growing closer and closer. ''Hey, come out already. Is this the same little boy who ran away from me? Because if so, just show yourself!''
Never, I think, lunging from my position and running forward. She catches on to me and starts a pursuit. I may not be the most athletic tribute still remaining, but I'm the smartest by far – that, I know, is a fact.
Zigzagging my way across the damp field, trying to confuse her, I see water coming over the land in front of me. Skidding to a disgusting stop, I stare up in awe, mesmerized by the great flow of water hovering in the air. Turning around, I lock eyes with Seven, and she's just as shocked as I am.
Behind her, water grows tall, too, and neither of us are prepared for the drop. It's not gonna hit with the gentleness of spring rain, but with the power of a nuclear-blast shockwave. A colossal, blue-green wave, will sweep over us at over a hundred miles per hour. Rushing, racing, roaring; angry froth foaming between its lips.
As I turn, I see no escape.
But why?
Think, Ocelot, think! Searching for some sort of escape route, I manage to find a little hole in the ground. It's small enough for a lanky, small guy like me to fit through – but for her, I'm not so sure. It doesn't matter, either; she's not important to me. Taking my chances, I run as fast as I can, trying to beat the tsunami.
One of my legs catch onto the hole and fall right through, followed by the rest of my body. Only my left arm remains hooked, but I quickly remove it. The Seven girl rips her axe out of her skirt and follows in my footsteps, attempting to do the exact same thing I did.
I hurl my body back, letting go of the ground above me, and I give no second thought about the drop. Regrettably, I fall, staring up in despair, hoping that she doesn't follow through. Every muscle in my body knots up when her face peaks over the hole, and she starts swinging at it with her axe, trying to widen the ditch.
Little crumbs of dirt flow past me, and progressively, everything becomes darker. Am I ever gonna reach the bottom? Is there even a bottom? My feet cease to swing, and my body simply glides through the air, though I'm pointed straight. The scenery in front of me starts to blur like a poorly shot photograph, the colors swirling and blending as my head becomes tilted to the approaching light.
I must be falling from about five hundred feet in the air. Holy crap, I'm gonna die! Snap out of it! Remember what you learned back at training and fly!
My blood starts to boil and I can feel my head tightening, the pressure growing far more extreme than I expected. Trying to move my body to my advantage, I twist and turn until I'm in a flying squirrel position, allowing my body to slow down before I can see the ground. The expected thump of the crash comes soon, and everything hurts. My vision fades for a second, but that's the least of my worries.
The sickening crunch sound that comes from the inside of my body frightens me to no end, leaving me gasping for air like a fish. Confused, I try to get up, using my arms to help start my legs, but I can't hold back a scream that accompanies a searing pain in my chest. My hands brush against broken glass, blood leaking from my wounds.
Once again, I try to move, but I'm knocked over due to the intensity of the pain. The only motion that comes from me is being able to turn around, but I wish I hadn't.
Falling now, the girl from Seven screams through her descent, and the water chases after her. She holds her hands in front of her face, but then the water reaches out and grabs her, engulfing her entirely. My body shakes with pain as the water continues to fall, and, fighting through it, I reach my arms up to cover my own face as well.
I feel the moist liquid touching my skin, the impact both deadly and comforting. Submerged underwater, I flick my eyes open, watching as the current pushes both me and Seven into some weird exit of this underground palace.
My heart begins thumping against my chest, and the only things on my mind are the Gamemakers and the Capitolites. Why are they doing this to me? I've tried to keep silent and lay low and avoid any trouble that I can, but the answer to this question is so distant. Did I do something wrong? Do they not appreciate me?
Am I not what they want?
Blush Belfleur, District One
Leaning forward, I dunk my hands into the stream of water before me, splashing it on my face and desperately trying to remove the painful thoughts and images from my mind.
He needed to go, I remind myself.
After the water drips from my face, I press my thumbs against my temples and rub them furiously. Everything's been... just, wrong! ''Ugh!'' I scoff, trying my hardest to avoid an incoming headache. ''Final eight, just remember that. You're this close.''
Chime! Without any hesitation, I look up and catch the falling note. I was expecting something helpful – like food, sanitary water, pain killers, antibiotics, something of the sort – but all I get is a paper with writing on it. It's not from anyone I know, so maybe the Capitol sent it? It's just a prediction list of the remaining tributes, including myself.
Obviously, I'm first. Second is some girl named Sawyer, then Atlas – who's still alive, somehow, which is weird since all of his other allies are dead – and then Kaster, Emil – surprisingly – Bree, and then that little kid from Twelve, Ocelot.
Out of all the people remaining, these guys are my competition? Besides Atlas, this is nothing to be intimidated by. Closing my eyes once again, I duck my head into the water, allowing my hair to hang by my sides. When your head is underwater, all sounds are supposed to be distorted, right?
So why is it that I hear an unnatural humming, buzzing, crackling sound? Throwing my head up and pushing myself away from the water, I watch as electricity starts surging through. The liquid begins to bubble and steam rises upward.
A change in lighting catches my attention, and, as I avert my eyes above me, I notice the lights that I've taken for granted in this subterranean city start to stutter in the blackness; at first they flicker, wildly spaced apart, yet now it's as if all the lights are controlling each other and commanding one another to shut off.
As of now, there's more darkness than light, which makes me uncomfortable. I stop, staying still and listening intently. From afar, I see a tribute taking small steps up here, his – or her – head appearing just over the ending of the pit below me. They're snickering at my offended expression, and with a sigh, they shout out, ''It's unfortunate that your cannon didn't go off.''
''Why is that?'' I retort.
''Because then there would be one less competitor, duh. And I also thought that you wouldn't be expecting the electric current,'' they breathe, voice familiar. ''And what sucks even more is that I know exactly who you are.''
''And what relationship do I have with you?''
They don't answer. Instead, I just hear their footsteps smacking against the ground, and I prepare myself for an attack, ripping my dagger free and placing it in my left hand while clutching Adonis' javelin in my right.
A sword gleams in the dim light, and I see the shine just before it's able to graze my cheek. I bring up Adonis' javelin, catching the weapon within the double-sided blades, and force the tribute closer to me.
Finally seeing their face, I gasp in shock. ''Emil?''
''The one and only,'' he responds, slightly nervous. Backing away from me, he reaches into his pocket, digging for something important, I suppose. His hand fumbles, and I sneer at him, disappointed with the worst attempt at an attack that I've ever seen. ''I was hoping I didn't have to meet you again.''
''You didn't fuck up just once, but twice, you know?'' I laugh, not caring about the volume of my voice. He peers up at me, eyes shaking with fear. ''So this is how you repay me after I let you survive?''
''You didn't – Adonis did.''
''Yet he's dead, and I'm alive. What's your response for that?''
''He's dead because you forgot about him and dipped,'' he says, slightly angry. ''That's my response for your backstabbing, betraying ass.''
''Oh, my God, are you dense?'' I scoff. My knees quiver abruptly, but I regain my composure. ''Everyone in this Game has to die at some point. And how do you expect me to win if he didn't meet his maker? Or are you one of those bleeding-heart assholes who believe in fairness and equality for everyone when it comes to things like this?''
''I'm nothing like that, and you'll realize that shortly,'' he concludes, throwing something up in the air.
''Bring it,'' I dare, charging at him with no cares in the world. Above me, something explodes, pushing me to the ground and forcing the air from my lungs. The explosion takes me off-guard, and I don't even register how close Emil is to my face. That sword of his brushes against the ground, slowly leveling up to my nose.
With quickness that I didn't even know I had, I roll away from the impending attack and manage to avoid his swing. With the dagger, I stab forward, forcing myself to get up and fight. Emil sucks in his stomach, but instead of pulling back, I twist the knife sideways and swipe at his abdomen, scratching a fine line of blood across his exposed flesh.
He bites back a squeal and clutches his wound, trying to maintain a good look on me and his cut at the same time. ''Sad,'' I tut, kicking at his face. He doesn't bleed from the attack, but he does sprawl on the ground in pain. His legs kick, trying to shoo me away, but I simply walk besides his shaking body.
Maybe he wasn't expecting that, judging by the look in his eyes. Swinging my dagger downwards, I aim for his heart, but the little shit decides to bring his sword up and meet my attack. Yanking my dagger away, surprising him with my move, I lift my leg up and stomp on his stomach until he groans out every fluid in his mouth.
''H-Hey, you can let go now,'' he tries, a wry smile forming on his lips. Trying to wiggle free from my grip, he holds onto my ankle, but I press down on him harder, intensifying the pain by leaning all of my weight into the attack. ''Serio—''
''Can you shut up?'' I groan. ''You ever heard of something called hygiene? Your breath smells like shit, and my nostrils are all the way up here. Sponsors don't love you enough to see you in good shape?''
Going quiet, I watch as he tries to mask his emotions with a stupid, happy grin.
''Look at you,'' I taunt, tilting my head to the side. ''You swear you're slick trying to hide your emotions. Well, guess what? You're frail – with your curly hair and light brown skin and weak frame. You think you're different from the people in your District because you've made it far and have a little bit of attention going for you? Kiss my ass, you piece of shit! Oh, wait, you probably would just for the sake of people staring at you – and whether good or bad, you don't care, do you?''
Shaking wildly, he continues to tire himself out. ''S-Stop! This isn't fun—''
''It's actually hilarious,'' I cut in, hindering him from finishing his sentence. ''Now what's gonna happen is I'm gonna kill you,'' I stop for a quick second, looking back and forth between Emil and the electrified river, ''by throwing you in the water. Now, come on.''
Grabbing him by his arm, I drag him near the water, the flourishing light shining on the both of us. As soon as we reach the edge of the gravel beneath us, Emil starts gasping for air, his eyes frantically looking for some sort of escape.
Letting out a laugh, I'm just about ready to toss him in there until he says, ''Is this what you would've done to Adonis if he was still alive?''
Gritting my teeth and clenching my fist, knuckles turning white, I try in my best efforts to remain silent. But he keeps going, bringing up Adonis multiple times. Hunching over in a form that exudes a smell of animosity that's like acid – burning and slicing – I slap Emil across the face and stare into his mysterious blue eyes.
I can feel my face turning red with suppressed rage, and when he says ''Adonis'' one more time, I swing at him and mentally snap.
''SHUT THE FUCK UP! FUCK ADONIS, FUCK YOU, FUCK EVERYTHING! WHY DO YOU KEEP BRINGING HIM UP? WERE YOU IN LOVE WITH THE GUY OR SOMETHING? EVERY SINGLE WORD THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR MOUTH IS HIS NAME!''
Smiling with bloody teeth, he spits. ''Nah, just wanted to see where your loyalty was at.''
''Loyalty?'' I huff. ''Who gave you a first-aid kit and decided not to kill you when she had the chance? But instead of trying to repay the favor, you wanna give the Capitol what they want and force trouble upon yourself. Hate to break it to you, but I'm fucking done – with you, and with everyone else in here. Don't ever speak to me about loyalty!''
''But why?'' he asks another stupid question.
''Because,'' I say, stabbing my dagger into his shoulder, not needing use of Adonis' javelin anymore. Tossing it to the side, I remove the polyester rope from my skirt and wrap it around his neck, observing him tense up with fear and pain. ''You don't know what I've been through. I'm here because I was screwed over. A stupid Victor by the name of Gari ruined my life and spread rumors about me. My father lost everything he worked so hard for, and now I'm a laughing stock in the District. My revenge is forthcoming, believe me. You're just someone in my way, so fuck off.''
Pulling the rope back as I press my foot against the center of his back, I bring his head up and listen to the disgusting moans and gurgles coming from his mouth. Transcending past what I need to do in order to end his life, I let one hand go and stab the dagger into his side this time, disregarding his searching fingers.
To my unfortunate surprise, though, he manages to grasp his sword with little fingertips – and I know that I should've kicked it aside, but the thought never crossed my mind. Thrusting it behind him, he pierces my already fucked up wound and gets a cry from me. My hands automatically let go of the rope and he gets free.
He bends over sharply as if I'd just punched a hole in his chest, and drops of bile spatter at his lap and the dust at his knees. The fit continues and I just hope that it tears him apart. But slowly, the torturous degrees of coughs ease in intensity and slowly, slowly pass.
The coughs keep Emil incapacitated for now – so I gotta capitalize on this opportunity; not like I couldn't on any given day. He has no choice but to fight to re-inflate his lungs while I slowly advance. Remembering that I have a vile of poison on me, I slowly take it out, making sure that he's unaware of my plans. Dropping little bits of the liquid on the tip of my dagger, I spin it in my hand and refocus my attention towards him.
''Looks like someone's throat is tightened,'' I laugh. ''Your lungs feel as elastic as old underwear? You're sagging instead of contracting for the next breathe, ha ha! Oh, I need oxygen, face ass.''
In one stride, I reach his slumped-over body, wasting no time. Angling my weapon to the top of his head, I stab forward, but it seems as though we both had the same idea. Instead of me hitting him, he spins around and punctures my breast bone with his weapon, and keeps pushing the sword inside of me.
Slowly staring down, I see the sword rotating, the sound of my muscles and nerves being gouged growing louder. Then, without warning, he completely jerks it into my back, until the shiny metal disappears inside of me and the back handle starts pushing against my broken skin. A guttural choke mixed with an agonized cry roars from my mouth.
He's not done, though. With all his force, he pushes me backward, causing me to stumble, falling into the river just as he pulls his weapon out of me. As I tumble into the water, I see a slight smirk on his face. ''I used to think you were pretty and had a slight crush on you,'' he whispers. ''But after your belittling comments and cruelty, I can say that I'm happy that I...''
His words fade away from my ears when my body touches the water. I continue to scream, convulsing and trembling like a rabid animal with thick blood flowing freely through the gaping hole in my back.
What's worse is the pain that soon shoots through me. It's much more than a slight tingle that runs underneath my skin. It's more described as if someone attached a live wire to each of my nerves, and my body convulses ten times more intense as the violent electrical current pulses through me.
The pain is only for a few short seconds before the darkness begins to cloud my vision, but I still feel my body tremble. The pain isn't there, but the movement is.
I've made a fool of myself. All my shit-talking, all my arguments, all my promises. And for what?
I only played myself, and in the end, this all ended up being for nothing. I just wanted to change what happened, because it was never supposed to end up this way. No one in the world deserves that type of cruelty, yet it somehow managed to find me. Holding my own was much more difficult than I made it look, but I couldn't do it alone. Not entirely.
Gotta give credit where it's due, though. That kid is a fucking genius.
I wonder if they'll remember me as much more than that girl who slept with a Victor and had a bitchy attitude.
Sawyer Fira, District Seven
As the water rushes past the glass floor and crystal palace, my arms and legs violently smack into each and every object that's in the water's way. And despite the pain, I continue to move on. Pressing my legs against the wall, I push myself away from it and hold my arms against the top of my head.
Ahead of me is a pole that's sticking out right above my forehead. Reaching up, I try to grab the item, but it's to no use. A wave of water laps upwards and dunks on my head, sending me down into the ground, where my feet touch against the ground and my sandals slip off.
Looking up, the water burning my eyes, I notice just how far under the surface I am – and the fact that I can't swim isn't making this any more helpful. Doing what I did with the wall, I jump, forcing myself back up. Slapping my arms against the violent torrent, I taste the salty water entering and throwing itself down my throat.
A cannon blasts through the air, I think, but I can't really distinguish it from the sound of water slapping against everything. But what if a cannon did sound? Who's was it? The little boy's, maybe? No. It can't be his, because I see him right there, climbing up a ladder, though he's barely managing to hold onto it.
Trying to follow after him, I struggle to reach his fleeing body until the wave of water pushes me to his location, and my head smacks against the ladder. I see stars in the air, hovering right above me. Shaking them free and cautiously grasping the end of the ladder, I feel the scarlet blood oozing down the side of my head.
Trickling down to the water, I notice the color turning brown, each drop slowly taking my life away, leaving me pale and weak, yet defying death. Throwing my leg up and holding the ladder with one hand, I check to make sure that my axe is still tucked into my skirt. Who knows what types of surprises he could have waiting for me up ahead?
Climbing up to the top of some weird layer, I catch a glimpse of the little boy limping and struggling to get away. ''Hey!'' I shout, realizing that the water is only growing taller and taller. Throwing myself on top of the ground, I roll away from the ladder, coughing and spitting as water drips from my skin.
My eyes widen when I see the boy pressing his palms against his mangled flesh, trying to stop the blood from escaping his wounds by applying pressure on them. But, oh, there's so much blood – dark crimson, with a discreet, metallic scent. It cascades across his skin, right through his fingertips.
Getting up to my feet and running after him, I push the kid forward, helping him find his way up to the second step of constructed ladders attached to the glimmering walls. Why are you doing this? You've always been introverted... The only time you're ever like this is when you're happy, which is extremely rare – and this isn't a situation to be happy about.
Really, I don't know why I'm helping him. One person lives, and I want it to be me, but seeing him in this state... This is all just fucked up. When we both reach the top of the second layer, I hyperventilate for air to fill my lungs again. The boy groans and turns around, stares me in the eye, and tries to scoot away from me.
''What's wrong with you?!'' I bite, growing aggravated. ''I literally just saved your life. The least you could do is say 'Thank you,' you know?''
''But why?'' he asks.
''Why what?''
''Why'd you save me? You shouldn't have... These Capitol people – these monsters – want me dead, don't you see? No matter how hard I try, they're going to end my life today, one way or another.''
My eyes widen with shock. Isn't this the same boy who spoke to the Capitolites like he was one of them? The same kid who nobody expected to make it this far? ''Because... everyone's endowed with the ability to help one another in certain situations. I wouldn't normally do something like this, but these Games change you, man.''
''T-That's what they usually do,'' he rolls his eyes, struggling to speak to me properly. ''What do you want, anyway?''
''Me? I want those Capitol bastards to burn in Hell and get a pitchfork up the ass,'' I bite down on my lips. ''They're all filthy assholes... Who could enjoy something like this? They all deserve to die. I want to send them all in here and watch them battle it out until one of them comes out alive, just so I could kill that one myself. Then we'll see who's wrong and who's right.''
I'm expecting him to say something that'll piss me off like the Capitol's right or something, and that the Districts are the ones who brought this upon themselves, but he doesn't. He simply laughs and nods his head in agreement.
''I don't care for that type of language, but I couldn't have said it better myself,'' he admits. ''Thanks for letting that out. After being in here, I now see their true colors. All their talk about loving the tributes that they're introduced to and wanting some of them to return, it's all a bunch of lies. They just want gore... I know the facts, I've always known them, but I've never managed to make sense of them until now.''
Smiling sadly, the kid lies down on the ground and sighs. ''...Tell me about yourself,'' I say, shaking in the cold. ''Like, what's your history?''
I don't expect him to answer, but he does. ''I grew up in Twelve being as dirt as poor; my parents had nothing, and neither did I – except for my brain, really. They didn't even want me, to be honest. I overheard them one day speaking about how they should have just smothered me in order to save a few coins. They always wished that they had some sort of escape, some way to grow wealthy. Either by having a family member win the Games, or just from a prayer being sent down upon them. I have no siblings, and, well, look at me, I'm pretty frail. Not much, right? But I promised myself that if I was ever Reaped, I would win the Games and that I'd have a house big enough to fit ten families. I've always wanted to be part of the Capitol and admired the people there, but now... things seem a bit different. They're disgusting freaks. What about you? What's your name?''
''Sawyer.''
''I'm Ocelot.''
''Nice to meet you, Ocelot.'' He nods his head in return. ''My mother had me at sixteen. See, she was raped by a drunk Peacekeeper, but that's a different story. I was born on the streets and knew that I had to make a life for myself, so I worked my ass off in the lumber yard back in Seven. Eventually, the money that I saved up was enough to get us a small home and some food, but it's never been anything I could do something big with. Basically, I'm the bastard child of my District. Unfortunately, I had to take out as much tesserae as possible, which ended up getting me here. But hey, as long as I'm able to keep my mother alive, I'm perfectly content with whatever ha—''
A growling, disgusting noise echoes from beneath Ocelot and I, and a large, gray, scaly fish-like creature jumps up from the water, its eyes green and vicious. Its jaw unhinges and drops to its chest, the large teeth in its mouth four times to size of my fingers. The fish tail attached to it has razor blades on it, and there's a phosphorescent antenna sticking out of the thing's head.
Ocelot's eyes grow wide with fear as the monster fish dives straight for him and takes a huge chunk out of his chest. Wrapping him around its body, the mutt uses its tail to swipe at Ocelot's back and drag him backward, tossing itself into the water. Jumping forward and leaning on the edge of the layer, I watch as Ocelot screams for help, his horrified voice rasping with intensity.
''SAWYER!'' he screams, raising his hand in the air. ''SAWYER! SAWYER... HELP ME!''
Gulping, I reach in for my axe. Do it... Just end the kid's misery, he's begging for you to finish him off. A second aquatic mutt takes a bite at his head, this time sinking its sharp teeth in the side of his cheek. Blood gushes with a sickening determination from his head, as if his own heart seeks to pump it from his body. His fingers try to clamp over the wound, but there's nowhere for him to touch.
The scarlet blood lashes over the water, painting the scene in which he'll be picked up dead in a few minutes if I don't stop this now... Don't be selfish.
Hurling my axe – my one and only weapon – at the water, I watch as it catches the center of Ocelot's head. The cannon sounds automatically, but the mutts aren't done devouring his body just yet.
Falling back in anxiety, I feel myself growing numb, and my stomach suddenly inflates vomit up to my throat. I'm unable to hold it back and throw up on the floor, tears streaming down my cheek.
Why the fuck does this shit have to happen?
Bree Andersson, District Six
Two cannons blast unexpectedly. Shaking my head, I march over towards Kaster again and place my two fingers on his pulse – even though I know that he's not dead, due to the rise and fall of his chest. Getting tired, I smack my hands on his face multiple times until he shoots up.
''Finally!'' I smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.
''What happened while I was out?'' he asks, but I completely avoid his question.
''Nah, see... I have a couple of questions I have to ask.'' He looks up at me, quite surprised, and tries to reach out and grab my hand but I stop him. ''Ah! I'm still mad at you.''
''Mad at me? Why?''
''Because in my little trip, you, Poet, and Beck all left me while some stupid natural disaster chased after me,'' I sigh, scratching the back of my head. ''Speaking of Poet and Beck, where are the two?''
Kaster's face contorts from surprise to sadness in a mere instant. Raising an eyebrow, I ask, ''What's wrong?''
''Poet's dead, Bree,'' Kaster replies sullenly. Taken aback, I feel my stomach drop. This is a joke, right? This has to be a joke. I look at him with furrowed eyebrows, letting him know in silence that I don't think this is funny.
''What are you talking about?'' I scoff. ''Oh, yeah, because in the time that I was fucked up, Poet would just die, right? Because you and Beck wouldn't be there protecting him like you guys protected me? If I'm alive, why isn't he, Kaster?''
''Because Beckett killed him!'' Kaster shouts, tears brimming at the edges of his eyes. He doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's lying – I'm still not believing this crap. ''They were fighting, because those stupid, stupid, stupid Gamemakers wanted a show!''
''What are you saying?''
''I'm saying that Beckett stabbed a machete in Poet's gut, and now Poet's no longer with us! Both of them—''
''Are you fucking kidding me? Kaster, shut the fuck up!'' I'm beginning to grow tired of this. ''If what you're saying is true, then Beckett's run off? That fake son-of-a-bi—''
''No, he's dead, too,'' Kaster stops me in my tracks. ''We were fighting the Careers, and, like, eight people died yesterday. Emil killed Beckett, and District Four was eliminated as well – I killed Clarice trying to protect you guys, but—''
''But what?''
''But I felt some type of way when fighting her – like, it was exhilarating. The adrenaline rushed into me, and it was like everything else didn't matter. If I was focusing on someone other than myself, Beckett would have still been alive.''
''And I would have ripped his throat apart. That coward!'' I scream, feeling my veins pop against my skin. Everything that he's saying makes sense, but I refuse to believe it. I... I... ''Fuck!''
Looking around, I recognize this certain city-area. We were here back when we ran into the giant. ''How many people are left?''
''Depends,'' he pauses. ''How many cannons sounded today?''
''Two.''
''Then we're in the final six,'' he gulps, his face entirely serious. My eyes widen. Final six? How did I make it this far being sedated for three days?
''Why am I alive?'' I tighten my fists. ''Did you save me?''
Our eyes meet, and he just stares, which basically answers my question. ''Out of all the fucking people, Kaster! Why not Poet? You couldn't have done that?''
''No, Bree! They separated us, and it was either I killed you, or either Poet and Beck killed one another. They had an electric forcefield blocking us, and because I refused to kill you, they sent out a mutt. The fuck type of person do you take me for? After all the bonds we created, did you really expect me to be able to lay a hand on an ally? Bree, I couldn't do it!''
His voice cracks, causing me to feel like I've said enough. Turning on my heel, I try to walk away, but Kaster grabs my wrist. ''Let. Go.''
''Where are you going?''
''The Cornucopia,'' I declare, yanking my arm free.
''What? Why?''
''You said that we're in the final six, so obviously that means that the Feast will begin shortly, right? If everything you've said is true, it's most likely that the Games will end tomorrow. I don't know about you, but I plan on going there before everyone else realizes what's about to happen and grab my equipment.''
''Don't! What if you run into another tribute? Or because of your inactivity, the Gamemakers send multiple mutts after you? Don't just storm off like that. You're too headstrong for your own good!''
''Me? Too headstrong? Kaster, your selfish ass lost sight of what was important and let two of our allies die! You could've just killed me and preserved two lives for the time being, but instead, you let me live, and because of that, our allies perished. How could you?''
''I... I saved you!''
''But at what expense?'' I say, finalizing our conversation. Without another word, I clasp my hand over Kaster's mouth and look him in the eyes. ''This is for the better.''
Kissing him on the cheek, I push him backwards and step on his ankle, making sure I don't put too much weight on the attack. His haunting scream makes me wince, and the tears start flowing out now. Sprinting away, I make sure that he isn't following me.
''Bree..!'' his voice is distant now.
Shaking my head, I wipe the tears away furiously. This is what needs to be done, I remind myself. It shouldn't come down between him and I. That would destroy everything we've fought for, destroy everything our alliance accomplished. That would defy what Poet wanted for us.
I'm so sorry, Kaster.
''Thank you, for everything.''
8th - Blush Belfleur, District One
7th - Ocelot Harrien, District Twelve
Nellie, ahh. So, Blush was an interesting character. Absolutely loved writing for her because of how fun she was. She was a bitch, she was a traitor, and she was just a girl who would do anything to erase the name that was given to her. It's unfortunate because while writing this chapter, I realized how deserving she was to win. But then again, everyone in my final eight is deserving to win, which is why I chose these specific tributes. I just couldn't have imagined what I would've written for her after her victory. Yeah, she'd probably get back at Gari, but then their relationship would just rejuvenate and they would go back to being a couple. Probably turn out to be the power couple of Panem, but yeah. She was just something fun, and I could never get enough of her. The things I wrote for her were just things that I could easily imagine a girl in real life, who was exactly like Blush, doing. Despite people loving or hating her, she was interesting, y'all gotta admit. Didn't see her as an antagonist... but more of a girl with something to prove.
Timmy, holy crap, Ocelot was the BEST! I loved everything about this kid, and when I first got his submission form, I automatically knew what I wanted from him. Surprisingly, he made it further than I had him going. He was supposed to be around thirteenth and twelfth, you know, the halfway area, but I just started feeling for the kid. His development came early, but I didn't go too deep into it until this chapter, where he realized that he hated the Capitol for what they've done. After being a proper lad and all that, it was unfortunate to write him realizing that so much was wrong in Panem, and that the Capitol people weren't as right as he thought they were. I didn't want to kill the kid too painfully and draw out his death, so I had Sawyer kill him. Granted, it came with a sacrifice, but it was better than being shredded apart. Ocelot was so deserving, but like I said above, everyone in this remaining group of tributes are deserving. I'm sorry for killing him, but I hope you know that he was one of my favorite tributes in this story, and I loved writing for him while I could. R.I.P., kid.
A/N: Ayee! So yeah, I'm kinda pissed with this chapter because after Blush's POV, everything became rushed. I think you guys can tell, because Ocelot's death was honestly the sloppiest death I've ever written in this story. And for real, that shit had me upset asf, but I wasn't gonna go back and change it because life and stuff. There was much more that I wanted so desperately to add but just forgot because of how rushed this was. Even the emotions, I swear to God, those were terrible, too. I promise, though, next chapter will be filled with emotions. Like, they were just so minimal here, but I'll pick that up. For sure. Anyway, not much else to say besides apologies for what was wrong with this chapter, but here are a few questions if y'all don't mind.
Tbh, I have no questions. Just lemme know what y'all thought of the POVs and chapters, if you'd like.
Anyway, yeah, that's all. I'll see you guys next chapter, which'll be the Feast, and, I hope, will be one of the best chapters in this story. I won't rush it like I did here, but instead will take my time and write when I'm motivated so that the chapter will be golden instead of terrible to the point where I dislike it. Also, thank you all for over 200 reviews. Really appreciate every single one of them. Even if you're a reader who only reviewed the first chapter, or are popping in every once in a while, doesn't matter; I love reading all of them, and it's generous of y'all to take the time out of your days to write a little comment on the story's progress. Thanks for reading, and I hope y'all have a wonderful time doing whatever you're doing wherever you are. See y'all next chapter, bye! ^-^