Several hours before the Games: Last Night, Good Night

Last Night, Good Night by Hutsune Miku and Kaito

It'd be wonderful if I could

Spend a morning with you once more

I just wish even such a small

Hope can be made a miracle

As it is, I can't covey anything

So I can't say goodbye…

Control Room

Icelynne Winterrose (20) Head Gamemaker

To whom it may concern,

I will only disclose this to you. What you are about to witness is pure and utter terror, horrors brought to life. It's not children killing each other; it's them watching the other die excruciating deaths. Awaiting their own demise, never knowing when their time is up. For good this time. They will be buried and be put to rest for eternity. They will not have to worry about being brought back again or another round of Games.

I have done something I shouldn't have. I am going to do something I shouldn't. The tributes have not readily gained complete control of their bodies just yet. No. We can influence their decisions and ideas, we can guide them towards victory or death if we wished. We have been since their awakenings, the sessions, the train rides. Everything.

Of course, I won't completely control their thoughts and actions, I will just make sure that the tribute who wins this year is one that President Echo would approve of. I will not fail like the past Gamemakers have.

I'm sorry. I took this too far. I didn't mean for this to get out of hand. I only wanted acceptance. I only wanted my mother's love.

Now… after this… I won't have anyone's…

-Icelynne Winterrose

District 1 Floor

Gemma Hambiln (16) District 1 Victor of the 96th Games

District One's floor is silent. The soft humming of the central air conditioning fades and the light shining through Caminha's closed door darkens. I assured the trio that resting before the Games would be the best option, even if it were just a couple of hours.

I adjust my body on the sofa, my legs curling in towards myself. I feel safe, secured in this position like a fetus in its mother's womb. Strands of hair fall into my eyes and I blow upwards, attempting to move the fallen strands from my glistening eyes. After several futile attempts, I move the strands behind my ears, my fingertips damp.

Despite the moonlight streaming from the panoramic window, the room feels incredibly dark. The darkness residing in the deepest corners of the room seem to choke the life from me. I pick myself up and peer beyond the couch. I feel pathetic hiding behind furniture at night- its stupid. Like somehow this thing will save me from my inner demons and shit like that.

I hate it.

Feeling this way.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stu…pid.

I begin to feel the familiar sensation, the talons of monsters begin to claw at my neck. The adrenaline and fear bubbles and dribbles over, my mind racing at a thousand miles an hour while the world around me slows at a snail's pace.

Panic. Attack.

"Ahhhhhh… aaahhhhhh…" I whimper, my lips quiver. My body trembles violently and I hold onto the sofa's pillow like a child's stuffed toy. Riding out the storm is what I've always done. All by myself, always.

"Ahhhh…!" My heart palpilates, I hear the pounding in my ears, in my chest, in my soul. It's erratic, chaotic, uneven. My breathing grows shallow and I soon find myself panting.

Like a savage animal.

"… help… help me…"

This feels worse than the others. So much worse. I extend my hand out to grab for my purse, but my vision fails me and my bag falls to the floor.

Damn.

"Gemma?!" Steele's panicked voice sends my mind racing back to reality. His brown hair is messy and tufts of it stick out in weird places, his bright blue eyes alert. "What's wrong?! Gemma!"

His arms envelope me, strength resonates from him as he merely embraces my trembling body. My body, raking with sobs feels so small in his. My head nests in the crane of his neck. I turn my head and let my quivering lips trace his smooth, pulsing skin. I feel his body go rigid, and my pants soften. Steele lets me go and sits on the sofa, his lips slightly parted.

"Please, Steele." I gravitate towards him, the corners of my lips twitch as I lean against his shoulder. "Please." I lower my head, feeling the longing and warmth deep within me. Like a beast, it roars and tugs at my heart. I want him. His love. His body. Him.

"Steele…" I let my voice purr, seductive as I climb onto his lap. I look into his warm, blue eyes and note every freckle and eyelash.

He is beautiful.

"Please…"

I can feel him move uncomfortably beneath me, his eyes, however, are glazed and stare right into mine. "Gemma…" His voice trails off as I bring my lips closer and closer to his. I breathe in the remnants of his cologne and his sweet smell. Mint fills my nose as he murmurs something against my cheek and finally his lips touch mine. My head feels light as he kisses me, the fear and lonliness ebbing away. My heart soars, my heart sings, my voice emits soft sighs and gasps.

In this moment, I feel alive.

Still embracing, he carries me to my bedroom and lays me down. He continues to kiss me as his fingertips trace shapes along my forearms and shoulders, my collarbone, my beating heart… His lips are my drug, my savior, my answer.

'I love you' is what I want to say, but my mouth has trouble forming words as our clothes slowly begin to peel away and form a pile on the floor. Skin against skin, mouth to mouth, my body hums with love.

I don't care for what happens after this, I don't care for the consequences of what this brings. All I want is love and security, to feel the warmth of another in blissful ectsasy. This may not be right, or moral, or acceptable, but I don't care.

Because in this moment… I am free.

District 2 Floor

Dolly Westever (28) District 2 Victor of the 90th Games

The coffee's hot steam forms in wisps around me, I exhale as the robust scent fills my senses. Finding my seat on the couch, I curl myself comfortably with my coffee mug and watch the stars just outside my window. The lights are bold, radiant, treacherous…

It means we are that much closer to death.

I shake my head, trying to erase these bad thoughts as I let the warm liquid cocoa beans warm my core and spread to my extremities. Sighing in delight, my ears detect the sound of emerging footsteps and find a very much awake Keither at the entrance of the corridor.

"Keither! I told you to rest!" I'm whispering loudly enough for him to hear me and I find myself laughing silently at the silly thought that Azura and Hero would could hear me from their rooms.

"I know… I just can't." He rubs his eyes and sits across from me on a cushioned chair. Dark bags hang under his haunting eyes, his face pale. He looks more tired and distant than usual.

Don't blame him.

"Hey, something on your mind?" I know it's a dumb question, but anything to make him talk about his feelings before he goes into the Games. Carrying emotional baggage into the Games isn't good for your mind and sanity.

Trust me.

"No… I just…" Keither trails off and drops his head. "I'm just nervous I guess." His hands tremble against the outstretched coffee mug I offer him. He sighs after taking several sips. "I feel a lot better now, Dolly. Thank you."

I clear my throat, tears stinging my eyes. "No problem."

I shake my head, wiping my eyes. "Will you try getting some rest now?" I look down at my phone. "We have about an hour before we go."

"I'll try." He rises from the seat, his pajama bottoms sag down a bit from his slim waist and his t-shirt goes up, exposing his ghostly white torso. He adjusts his shirt and pants with hot cheeks and begins to walk away when he ducks into the kitchen and goes toward the dining table.

His movements are cautious, meticulous as he holds a portrait it seems. The backside is facing me, but a few splashes of color that paint the sides of the portrait take my breath away. The colors mix so well, the shading done so well that it almost seems familiar. He finally face me, his eyes dead serious and lips tight as he turns the painting around.

It is me.

It looks just like a photograph, but better. Instead of the fake smile usually plastered on my face, a warm smile fills the painting. My blue eyes shine bright, pure and innocent. My curly blonde hair is tied back with an aquamarine clip that glimmers even within a mere painting. It is beautiful and detailed, the paint strokes precise and painstakingly gorgeous.

"I remember what you said… about wanting a painting of yourself."Keither hands me the painting my hands trembling as I feel the sting of tears pounding into my sinus cavity. I feel so happy and grateful that I don't notice him leave to his room.

My elation ends abruptly as my eyes wander to the bottom right of the portrait. I gasp, dropping the canvas onto the coffee table and it bounces off. It faces up, my eyes finding the signature at the corner.

Messer

District 4 Floor

River Echo (17) District 4 Victor of the 99th Games

"Can't you help me, River?" Tricity places her hand on her hips and waves a throwing knife in front of me, my blood runs cold.

"I-I don't want to risk any-"

"I'm not asking you to wrestle in your condition. I just need you to show me a few tricks for this."

"Why don't you ask Cameo," I exasperate, pinching the bridge of my nose. I really don't want to have to show her.

"He doesn't specialize in this." She traces the knife's blade with her long fingernails. "But you do… so please." She pouts, her red lips pursing. "For me."

I sigh, giving in. "Fine. You better listen carefully, because I'm only doing this once." I take the knife from her and position myself in front of the target. I gulp, my body taking the blade and I'm surprised my body recalls what to do when my brain scrambles to find the steps to do this.

"I-I might be a bit rusty." I haven't thrown one of these since the finale. Images of the Games begin to cloud my mind and I feel a shaky breath escape my lungs. I try to relax, to push those awful memories aside for just five minutes. Memories, a blessing and a curse.

"I've got to get some rest for the big night." Tricity places her hands on her hips and sighs loudly. She yawns and copies my posture and the angle my arm is set at for the throw. "Like that?"

I look at her, noting her near perfect stance. "Yeah, like that."

She smiles, a genuinely warm grin. "This isn't so hard."

"Well, you still have to make sure you aim-"

Boom

She swings the knife at an incredible speed and it hits the bull's-eye. I can't help and feel impressed and slightly happy for my tribute. "Wow… what is your weapon of choice again?"

She smirks and holds up her hand. "My nails." The blood red coloring of her fingernails sends a chill down my spine and I gulp nervously.

"Your nails?"

"Yeah, you know? Like, ripping out people's throats and stuff!" She giggles and begins to nibble on her right index fingernail. "Boys often complain that my nails are a bit much in the bedroom~"

Bile rises in my throat and I can feel my cheeks heat up. "Umm, okay. Great job, and, goodnight." I swiftly exit her bedroom before she can tell me more about her kills or her sex life.

I shudder thinking of it all. Feeling the dread and sadness in my drooping eyes, in the pit of my womb. My hand instinctively goes to my stomach and I feel the bile that so desperately wanted to escape now flings itself into the kitchen sink. My stomach retches the evening's meal and I breathe heavily as the nausea passes.

It certainly wasn't as bad as the first couple months, but the Games definitely don't help.

"Excuse me…" A very soft and concerned voice rings from the front entranceway. I pop my head from behind the counter and find the pregnant District One girl in a white nightgown. Her brown hair is in a disarray, her dirt brown eyes filled with tears.

"Y-Yes?"

"I don't know who to go to…" She laughs and wipes her eyes. "Gemma is nice and all, but she doesn't understand… she doesn't understand…" The girl cries into her trembling hands. "I'm scared! I'm scared for me, this baby…"

From mother to mother, I can understand her pain. Not that I'm a tribute this year and my life isn't on the line, but I can understand her uncertainty and fear of bringing a life into this twisted world. "What do you need? What do you need before you go into the Games?"

She inhales sharply and stares into my eyes. "I need someone to support me, I know you have Tricity to worry about…"

No, I don't. She's proven many times that she can take care of herself.

"I can take you in. I'll talk to Gemma before they launch you guys."

Her eyes light up, a warm honey. "Really?"

I nod. "Yeah, it's no problem."

She attacks me, a sudden embrace. I can feel our bellies touch, the movements of the babies, the breathing of expecting mothers. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Mrs. Ech-"

"Call me River, ummm." I feel embarrassed for not remembering her name. I look down ashamed, touching the thin fabric of my shirt.

She chuckles, her smile lively. "I'm Carminha."

My curiousity proves too much and a question that have been itching to ask since I first saw her at the Tribute Parade spills out of my mouth. "Do you think you can win? I know what happens to a mother's body after a birth-"

"I will win. I don't care if I end up bleeding to death from a hemorrhage, or who knows what. I will make it out alive for my child." Her face is hard, stern. A certain spark manifests her being and a wave of turmoil sways me.

I don't think I'm ready to see a young mother die… not when she has so much to lose…

District 7 Floor

Chancellor "Chance" Aristotle (29) District 7 Mentor

Where are they?

I'm sure I put them here… Damn it!

My temples begin to throb and the pain ripples throughout my body. My heart beats faster and faster, sweat beads at my hairline. Walking swiftly into the living quarters, I find the cause of my missing pain killers.

"Kale!"

He jumps where he sits and turns back to look at me, currently in the process of injecting himself with morphine. I can feel myself growing upset and angry, but it fades as the desperation and fear in his eyes takes bloom. He finishes the morphine and puts the supplies on the coffee table and sobs, his large build heaving heavily.

"Kale… I… why…"

I sit opposite of him, facing the desperate and scared boy. He looks nothing like the strong and charismatic man at the interviews.

He pulls at his hair, frustrated as the pills and morphine sit on the coffee table in a mess.

"What happened?"

He scrunches his thick eyebrows. "Happened…?"

"What caused you to turn to this?" I hold up the empty pill bottles and the syringes. "What caused you to turn to this?!"

My words sting as he flinches. "This was before, this was-this was before I awakened…"

I exhales, closing my eyes. "You were an addict before…?"

Kale chuckles and puts down the syringe. "I was. I was depressed, well, still I am. No medical procedure can cure a heavy heart. My mother died giving my sister who was later declared stillborn. My father drove himself to alcoholism and died in an accident. I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle. They tried to help, but it never lifted the weight in my chest. The weight of living became too much… that's when I met Yasmine."

I shake my head, angry for what the world has done for those of us thrown into the Games. "Yasmine?"

Kale's mouth is slightly open, his eyes blank. "She died… and that's when I started the morphine. I lashed out on everyone and the only thing that mattered was the morphine. The pain killers, anything. As long as it took away the pain in my chest and the sorrow in my heart."

"You know that I can't send you pain killers during the Games, right?"

He looks confused, hands balling in fists. "Can't you-you put some in my food or something?"

I shake my head. "I only tell the Gamemakers what to provide you with based on sponsorship."

"Please, Chance. I don't think I'll make it a couple days without it…"

"Do you know the symptoms of depression? Withdrawl?"

"Aggression, lack of sleep or too much, moody, anxiety attacks, rage, suicide…"

"I'm sorry, Kale. I really am, and I understand. Please, get some rest."

I leave him. I leave him to his anger and frustration from his current situation. I don't dare look back, for the fear of giving in and letting him continue his path to destruction.

District 12 Floor

Calloway Echo (21) District 12 Mentor

I dismiss the trio from our final meeting and they head to their rooms, allowing them a couple hours of sleep before the launch. I go into my bedroom and turn the television off. Grabbing my notebook, I begin to scribble possible strategies and tips for the Games.

Damn her. She'd pull this type of move on us, giving us no time for sleep or last minute advice. Ugghh! I can feel the anger and frustration claw at my throat and I bring shaky hands to my face.

Just six more years, Calloway. Six more years until Joylena's ready.

"Calloway…!" I catch a familiar voice call me from the entranceway, a glimpse of wavy brown hair tells me all I have to know.

"River!" I try to keep my voice low so the tributes hear me. River swoops in from the doorway and wraps her arms around me. I can feel her belly press up from behind me, and tears begin to sting my eyes. I hold her hand, her head leaning against me. It's like something from a movie. An older couple, so in love holding the other. This is just two people, not a true love, but friendship kind of love. I love her, really. Though I was forced into this, I'm glad it was River Seymour. The cool, angry, self-concious girl from Four.

And me... it doesn't matter. She only sees me as Leon. I know I can never compare to him, even in death, but I promised to keep her safe.

I promised to keep our children safe.

"I'm scared." I can feel a warm liquid hit my cheek. Looking up, I see River's green eyes filling with heavy tears. "I'm scared for them."

Anyone outside our relationship would never see River like this, not even my own mother. She keeps her head high, her smile bright. Since her Games, River has accepted whatever challenge or obstacle thrown at her. No matter the cost, no matter the pain it brings her.

Because it never compares to what she lost during the 99th Games.

"Come here." I lead her to the bed, tucking ourselves with the sheets. She faces away from me and I wrap my arms around her, my hands roaming to her womb. "Stay here tonight."

"But Cameo-"

"I'll tell him to look after Tricity."

She turns over, her cheek brushes against mine. "I sorta took in Carminha also..."

"What?!"

"She came to me... I couldn't say no."

"When was this?"

"Right before I came here."

I sigh, turning over to retrieve my phone. "Did she ask Gemma first?"

"She said she'd talk to her."

Typing out a message to Cameo, I let him know of River's whereabouts and ask him to watch over Tricity and Carminha before the Launch. I snuggle back up to River, breathing in the ocean mist shampoo she likes so much.

"Who used your camera?"

"Hmm." Her question takes me by surprise as I open my eyes to her turning over, camera in hand. "I let Orion use it. It was my gift to him."

"He's a pretty good photographer, look." She shoves the camera's screen in my face and I'm temporarily blinded. I groan and rub my eyes, fetching the device from her small hands. "Yeah..."

The photograph is shot from a perfect angle of River and I in the balcony during the Training Sessions. I recall River whispering to me about Tricity and me laughing. It's a sweet photograph of us, not like the ones the Capitol Press takes of us. Fake smiles and embracing.

"It was on your nightstand."

"My nightstand?"

She laughs. "He can't exactly take it in with him. Maybe he returned it?"

"Maybe."

She moans and rolls over, yawning. "How much time do we have?"

I look down at my watch. "About an hour."

"Dammit." I can see, from the moonlight streaming through my window, River puff out her cheeks. "Well... we can discuss something we've avoided for awhile."

"... and that is...?"

"Baby names."

I'm taken aback. "Right..."

"So... do you want to name one of them after your parents? My parents?"

"I'd like to name one of them after my father."

"First or middle?"

"Middle."

She nods. "A nature name, right?"

"Yeah. Seems appropriate."

Her eyes wander to the stars outside my window and then back at me. "Let's decide right now on a girl's name. I was thinking I can decide the first names and you can choose middle names."

"Sure, okay."

We lay silent for several minutes, trying to think of something meaningful for a baby girl.

Rose

Lily

Julie

... Genesis...

I recall the word graffiti-ed on a building in District Twelve. The beginning of a new life.

"Genesis." I blurt the name out before I consider some of the other names I had in mind.

"Genesis..." River murmurs as she traces her fingertips across my forearm. I feel a cool, relaxing sensation spread throughout me. I sigh in pleasure, looking into light green eyes.

"Yes. Genesis."

"Rebirth, right?"

"The beginning..."

She nods, smiling. "Marine Genesis Echo."

"Marine?"

"It was my grandmother's name. Do you like it?"

I nod. "I love it."

She giggles, touching my nose. "I'll be sure to pick a District Seven worthy name for a boy."

"I love you."

It's the first time I've said this to her without others around us. It's the first time I actually mean it. River gasps and puts a hand to her mouth, her eyes watering.

"Leon."

I don't feel mad at her for calling me that. She just kisses me over and over, sobbing into my shoulder. Repeating his name until she falls asleep.

I await the day she can finally see me, Calloway Echo as her husband and father of her children and not Leon Finlend.

I await the day with a heavy heart.

An Unknown Site

Macintosh "Mac" Wattson (15) Past District 3 Male of the 52nd Games

"Your arm, sir."

My lips curl up in a snarl as the lady waves her hand across my face. She holds an injector, you know, the one that plants a GPS chip in your arm. I try to wrestle my forearm away from her, but a stinging slap to my cheek rests any further resistance.

Bitch.

The thirty-six of us are lined up, in order by District, as we wait to receive are final words before heading into the Games. I glance to my right and see Rhea and Vetch. They're stoic, not a single ounce of emotion behind glassy eyes.

Bright fluorescent bulbs hang above our heads, swaying slightly with the swift saunters of the Capitol officials. It's similar to the waiting areas in my first Games, but something feels off… I can't tell if it's the fact that we're about to die again or the golf ball sized holes that circle the entire room.

Whatever, doesn't matter anyway…

"We will begin the launch."

The officials leave and it's just us. A wave of confusion begins to seep into the room as the overwhelming sound of silence becomes apparent. I run to the door and begin to pound my fists on the wooden board. The others begin to move around the room frantically, looking for some means of escape or reason for the abandonment.

Suddenly the holes in the walls begins to spew a dark green gas. A few screams ring sharply in my ears and the room permeates of this foul smoke. My consciousness fades, distorting as the tributes around me drop like flies. My knees hit the floor beneath me hard, I fall over and the right side of my skull makes a muffled thud.

May the odds be ever in your favor…

A/N: The start of the Games will be posted later today (depending on where you live)! Thanks to everyone who's been following the story so far :D

Poll up: Final three in Arena 3?

1. Who's POV(s) stood out?

2. Can you guess who will die in the Bloodbath?

3. Who will make it far, possibly as Victor?

Love Always,

Domi