Day 1 Night: Midnight City
Midnight by Coldplay
In the darkness before the dawn
In the swirling of the storm
I'm rolling with the punches and hope is gone…
Arena 1- Ib
Mira Knitt (17) Past District 8 Female of the 87th Games
A bright sensation like stage lights awaken me. The upper half of my body rockets forward, sharply inhaling sanitized air. My eyes open to white. The walls are absent of color, a pristine white coats the high walls and ceiling. A sharp feeling spreads throughout me, the linoleum floors are ice cold and I sit upright. I wear a tight-fitting t-shirt; along the length of my arm, tiny bumps erupt from smooth skin. I rub my hands over the cold flesh, hoping to warm it up.
"Where are we…?" A scared voice sounds from my immediate right. I find Barkley shivering and her eyes dart around the perimeter of the room.
"I guess this the Arena…" I collect myself, first standing up and brushing myself off and then evaluating our surroundings. I find a service desk and two windows, along with a dark blue poster detailing an art gallery for an artist named Guertena.
I stride over across still sleeping tributes and a notebook opened to a fresh page. The title inscribes a sign in list, probably wanting us to sign in? Tiny text is shown at the bottom of the page and reads…
Everyone still alive must sign their name as the Games progress. Failure to sign in will result in severe consequences.
The annoyance of all of this makes me roll my eyes as I grab the feather. I've never actually written in a quill before, so my handwriting looks messy. Signing my name, I wave Barkley over to sign in. She nods her head softly and takes the quill feather away from me. Her handwriting is cute: slanted slightly and loopy.
"You write really well with that."
She blushes and puts the feather down. "I used to sign my drawings in raven feathers. It's a bit different though." She chuckles and points to the poster. "Is that what this is? An art gallery?"
I nod. "I guess so. It looks pretty barren for one-"
"When were you two going to wake the rest of us up?" Tricity's obnoxious voice rings loudly in my ears and I find the dark-haired bitch next to me, her lips in a snarl. "You can't leave us behind, remember?"
She smirks at me, her red lips pulled back devilishly. "I'm just saying, wouldn't want to get us all disqualified for your stupid mistakes."
I start to lunge at her when Barkley holds me back. She gives me a concerned look, her head cocked slightly to the left. I exhale slowly and close my eyes, backing away from Tricity.
"What should we do now?" Carminha pipes up from the far corner of the room. She traces her fingertips across the window's glass and stares into the light outside our reach. "We should get everyone up."
Barkley and I shake everyone's shoulders and gather near the desk. After the twelve of us finish signing our names into the notebook, we gather around in a circle.
"So, all we have to do is stay together and get through this. So… who's going to lead us?" Faust asks, looking around. "Shouldn't our wonderfully spoiled Careers do it?" I can hear him snicker and I want to also. Messiah's disapproving expression stops me from doing so.
"I honestly don't mind." I'm surprised to hear this coming from Keither, the ginger who has said very few words up until this point. "Let's go."
Keither waves us forward, with Barkley scurrying up to his side. Messiah and I straggle behind and watch the different alliances ahead of us. Carella and Carminha whisper and laugh about something while Tricity keeps up with the group with arms crossed. Bram, Orion, and Eli stay close together and stay silent while the loners Faust and Yarrow keep their distance from everyone else.
The hallway opens up and a large floor painting appears before us. The work of art is roped off and is secured by ropes, but the sheer beauty of it might make us fall into it anyway. It is a beautiful blue, water in a lake with a large fish inside. The fish looks frightening but the water's beauty takes away the menacing tone. I run my hands over the roping and find the tiny table that has the work's name.
Abyss of the Deep
There are other paintings and sculptures on the floor, some very odd and abstract. One sculpture that captures our attention is a large red rose with fallen petals. It is a bright crimson, almost too perfect to be just an art piece.
"So pretty…" Tricity stares in awe at the flower, her dark blue eyes wide in amazement and wonder.
"It's called, 'Embodiment of Spirit'. Maybe our souls are beautiful like that…" Yarrow remarks as her eyes wander away from the rose statue.
"Whatever… let's just go upstairs."
We head over to the stairway and ascend the flight of stairs to the second floor. A window similar to that of the lobby's is the first thing we see. Many more paintings line the walls of the gallery and in one of the hallways features sculptures such as mannequins without heads and a sofa with red wiring. One hallway is dedicated to this one large mural. Splashes of color make up this painting with a woman in one corner and a red rose in the other. A crescent moon is placed in the middle with different colors circling it.
Fabricated World
As soon as I read the title, the lights flicker. The soft melodic music playing softly in the background fades and an eerie tune begins. Sounds like footsteps chime into the dissonant chords that play as my heart begins to race.
"What happened?!"
We head forward, the lights continuing to flicker and dim. A sudden meow stops us dead in our tracks and we all turn to a painting of a cat. "Did that just…?"
"I don't even…" Tricity turns the corner and we follow suit. A fruit falls from a painting and another seems to follow our gaze: the lady in red.
"Let's just get out of here!" The art gallery is possessed or something! What the hell are we supposed to do?! Just as we head down the stairs, I catch a figure walking outside the figure. It bangs on the window, the sudden noise making me jump. A partial handprint is all that's left behind.
"I'm getting super pissed now…" Faust punches the wall, his teeth gritted and fists balled. "Where the hell do we go...?"
"Maybe the entrance could give us an answer…?" Carella pipes in, her expression wary and cautious. Faust gives her a pissed off look and storms ahead.
"We're supposed to stay together!" Tricity runs after him and the remaining ten of us follow. The adrenaline and fear takes it course and I feel the anxiety creep up my neck.
Please just let this be over… all this uncertainty…
Keither pulls violently on the entrance's handles, his face red. "It's not budging."
"AHHH!"
Carminha's scream is high-pitched and breaks the heavy tension in the air. My head snaps in her direction to find the window she had been messing with now covered in red, sticky liquid.
"What the hell?! Is that blood?!" Tricity runs to Carminha's side and flicks her index finger over the window.
"That's paint." Carminha steps aside as Orion takes some of the paint and rubs it between his fingertips. "Blood is thicker and smells a lot like iron."
Tricity clicks her tongue and disbands from Carminha who still appears to be in shock. She holds her hand to her belly and exhales. Messiah nudges me forward and we head back to the large mural, deciding that this is what caused all of the craziness to happen. When we arrive at the hallway, something shocks me. Beneath the frame of the painting has blue paint leaking from it, dripping down the wall and forming a small puddle on the floor. Tiny text is painted next to the blob and reads…
come down below tributes
"So there's something downstairs…? I don't think there's a basement to this place." Bram remarks as I recite the message. We all look at one another and find ourselves confused.
"Damn, why couldn't they have put us in a normal Games…" Tricity murmurs, keeping her distance from everyone else. "Let's just go back down."
We go down the staircase once more and I feel my calves begin to tighten from exhaustion. Just as I think that this bizarre place will cease, but I'm wrong. Again. The Abyss of the Deep roped off section is now gone and a pair of blue footprints lead into the painting's depths. The twelve of us gather around the six foot by six foot artwork and gaze deep within it.
Something in me tells me to dip my foot into the water's depths. Curiosity takes over me as my left foot grazes against cool liquid, the wetness soaking through my shoe and sock. "Woah…"
"What the-"
"Guys maybe…" Barkley sits at the edge of the pond, her legs fully emerged into the painting. "Maybe we have to go into the painting." She stands back up, looking around at everyone. "C'mon."
"Have you gone bat-shit crazy, Barkley?! We'll drown in there!" Tricity waves her arms around, angry. "There has to be another way!"
"What do we have to lose…"
Not a second after Barkley says this, I watch in horror as a figure jumps into the water.
Barkley is nowhere to be found.
"Barkley!" Keither's panicked voice is cut short as he dives in after her. Soon the others start to panic and watch in suspense as bubbles rise to the surface, but no sign of the ginger or brunette are found.
"They're crazy! Absolutely-" I don't know what compels me to do this, maybe I just wanted Tricity to shut up or I wanted to see what had become of Keither and Barkley, but I push with all my might on Tricity's back. She falls face first into the painting, a chocked scream bubbles from her before she hits the water. Her body submerges into the pond and a stillness is restored to the remaining nine of us.
"Let's go." I fall back, feeling the waves lap against me as my body submerges into the depths. A warm feeling rises within me and my mind relaxes. A cool serenity washes over me as I sink deeper and deeper, watching as air bubbles rise to the surface. I watch as the others follow in our lead.
I reach my hand out towards them, but suddenly a wave of sleepiness overtakes me, and I find myself falling into oblivion's grasp once more. Watching as black shapes cloud my sight and the darkness that had once held me captive all those years ago takes me again.
Arena 2- Mad Father
Valiant Yates (18) Past District 11 Male of the 63rd Games
The air is thick, humid to say the least as my eyes flutter open. I run a hand across my face and stare at the ceiling, a pale white color. My fingers run across a thin fabric that covers me. My hands wander the proximity of my body and I conclude that this a cot with a sturdy wood frame. It supports my build quite well despite the musty, old oak smell to it.
Swinging my legs over the cot, I find that the twelve of us are in a similar situation. However, others like Azura and Glint have thicker blankets and fluffier pillows. I look down at my measley pillow and blanket and frown.
Stupid sponsors…
My mind hazes as I stand up, my balance teetering a bit from the gas. I look at the plain walls and find a portrait of above our respective beds, encased in a golden frame. They resemble something like mugshot pictures, but each of us is smiling. Not one of those forced expressions you often see from old photographs, but genuine. I don't realize I'm crying until I feel a cool wetness hit my cheek and I quickly wipe it away. I never thought I could smile like that again.
"Hrrrrhhhhh…"
A deep moan resonates from Glint's cot and I watch as he stirs slowly from his slumber. His blue eyes are glassy and unfocused; his usually perfect hair is in a disarray and sticks up in weird places. I hold back a chuckle and leave him to his awakening. My eyes travel around the room finding a bookshelf, a toy chest, a dresser, and a nightstand. I decide to examine the nightstand to find some clues to what we were supposed to do next.
Moving across the room, my movements faster and coordinated than when I first awoke just a week prior, I run my left hand over the nightstand's counter and collect a vast amount of dust. Wiping my hand on my sweats, I find a picture frame and find that its one of those fancy Capitol ones where the pictures are displayed in a slideshow. My gut tightens as the first picture appears, the picture the trainer took of us before we started our sessions. Everyone looks so… disconnected. Forced smiles project blatantly from our faces that a wave a bile rises in my throat.
Fake.
The picture changes and it shows us in a circle, introducing ourselves. Azura is shown waving and her mouth is open in a rather comical expression. I find myself in the image with arms crossed and a bored expression written across my dark features. Everyone else seems to look the same, minus Barrik who looks quite interested in what she was saying.
I hear the others begin to stir from their cots and rustling from the bookshelf. The shuffling of books and feet bring a familiar feeling to this unknown place until a high-pitched scream breaks my train of thought.
"Aaahh!" I hear Barrik slide across the floor backwards and mutter something under his breath. He rubs his head, frustrated as he points to dresser drawers. "There's some small freakin' animal corpses!"
Despite the small bird's corpse, the smell is foul and horrid. The deep, musk of decomposition permeates the resting chamber. I shut the drawer, a small gag erupts from deep within me.
"Let's just crack open a window, or somethin'." Just as Barrik's fingers grasp onto the edge of the window's glass, El's panicked voice pierces the air.
"L-Look at this." El points to a small piece of paper. Half of the note protrudes from the bookshelf precariously, the burned edges enticing all of us to circle around. Azura snatches the folded note hastily, her fingers working over the paper's creases. She raises it above, her eyes scanning us.
FIND THE MAD SCIENTIST
As if on cue, the door creaks open and everyone stops dead in their tracks. The air thickens as the sound of moaning and screaming shatters the once still room. Screams of horror and terror ring violently in my ears, threatening to destroy all reason and logic. The moaning only adds to the fear and Mercy and Joules begin to shake violently where they stand. Even Glint appears frozen in a state of shock as a cold and threatening aura envelopes us. The roar of a chainsaw breaks the hope for a quick and painless death and I fall to my knees.
"What are we going to do…" Azura is mumbling incoherently, her eyes brimming with tears. The once confident and jovial girl is falling apart at the seams. Her eyes soon flash of anger and she looks at Glint and Steele. "Go do something! You're the men of this alliance, aren't you!?"
There it is.
"I'm not going out there." Glint crosses his arms across his chest and puffs out a breath of air, frustrated.
"I-I'll go…" Steele tiptoes slowly to the ajar door and peeks his head out, his legs trembling against the door's frame. He takes a deep breath and turns his head side to side. "The coast is clear."
"Okay… okay… let's head out." Azura takes the lead and we exit the room to find ourselves on the second floor. The hallway is long, the middle of the cooridor overlooks the bottom floor, the right features many more rooms and the left leads off to another passageway.
"Let's check out the left side first." Our group ventures into the unknown, the tension heavy. I glance to my right and find Barrik awfully close to Azura and Glint, a look of distress across his usually carefree demeanor. To my left I stare into El's eyes and see a blank stare, her lively eyes now dull. Sensing something off, I look back and notice Glint and Andra falling behind the pod. Glint is alert, cautious as he treads through the Victorian-esque mansion, paying no attention to Andra who looks like she'll snap at any moment.
The noises stop abruptly and a dreadful feeling spreads throughout me. The light flickers and dims, music sounding from hidden speakers begins to play stringed instruments that play increasingly loud, dissonant chords. Louder and louder, until my mind begins its flight towards chaos.
"AAAAAAGGGGHHH!"
An unearthly scream behind me sends my head snapping back and a sight so gruesome, so haunting, sends my body into paralysis. Two things that resemble human beings tear apart and hack at the bodies of Andra and Glint. One of them is tall and wiry, the other is husky and everything below his hip is gone. Both share a surgical incision down their chests, stitching done to certain parts of their body. Glint tries to push the taller one off of him, but the half-monster comes to him as Andra lies convulsing. Both of her legs are broken, pieces of bones jut out from mushy chunks of meat that used to be her limbs. Primal screams blare from the teens' vocal chords, a sound that I will never forget.
Sounds that never leave a person.
"HELP ME! HELP… ME…!" Glint is screaming, clawing at the wall. His legs are in shreds, chunks of flesh and meat dangling from tendon and bone. The tall one throws him down, his blood smearing the wall with dark crimson.
"IT HURTS! IT HURTS! IT HURTS!" Andra's voice pierces the air like a bullet, desperate and deranged. Her hair is knotted and messy, her skin a sickly pale color.
"GO DOWN THE COORIDOR! Steele yells as he jets off down the hall. The rest of us follow suit and lock ourselves in what looks like an attic. For the fear of being discovered, we keep silent. The silence is torture. The agony of each passing second sends choked, surpressed sobs to life.
"Shut it, Mercy!" Azura hisses as the sound of footsteps become more distinct. Her body sprints next to the door and she puts her weight against it, gritting her teeth. "Everyone help me!"
Soon all of us lean against the other to form a make shift dead weight against the attic's entrance. The footsteps soon fade, and the music falls silent. The atmosphere seems to shift from fright to eerie in just a matter of seconds, the lights brighten just a bit to see where we stand.
"Ahhhhh… ahhhhh… ahhhh…" It is so faint and withdrawn, that I don't notice that several of the tributes are crying. Azura and Steele just stare into each other's eyes. Barren, desolate looks show from all of us, whether we feel angry, sad, or feel nothing at all.
Nothing prepared us for this.
Not the 'training'.
Not our families.
Not the Capitol.
The darkness that we now must face will be excrutiating. To be brought back to this… to endure another Games, another round of death and evil. This is our punishment. Our retribution… for being born.
Arena 3- The Witch's House
Brielle Marina (15) Past District 4 Female of the 21st Games
It smells faintly of flowers, like those that bloom in the springtime. A breeze ripples through the oak trees, the tiny blossoms billowing against the wind. This place is serene, a place of relaxation and study. The grass beneath me feels soft and brushes against my hands, the dirt underneath getting trapped in between my fingernails. The sky above us is a brilliant blue, no clouds in sight. The only sounds to be heard are the chirping of sparrows and the waking of tributes.
"Hmmmm…" I moan as I stretch my limbs, closing my eyes. I inhale and exhale deeply for several moments before I stand. I run around in circles a bit, my legs tingling from being in a fetal position for who knows how long. After the uncomfortable feeling passes, I join the rest of the tributes to discuss our future actions.
"Up and at 'em." A mysterious voice calls, almost comically. The twelve of us look around, confused expressions exchanged to all. Just as we circle around, a sleek black cat appear from behind a rotting log and jumps onto a stump. "… Hm… what is it?"
"AHH!" We all scream, excluding Track and back away from the cat.
"Wh-What…?"
No, no, no, no. That is not a talking cat it is-
"Oh my goodness!" Track goes to the cat and holds it, nuzzling the cat's nose with his. "It talks! Everyone can hear you speak and not just me!" He laughs as he holds the small feline, his dark expression now amused.
"I'm here for advice, put me down tribute-spawn." The cat hisses and flicks it tongue at the confused boy. He puts the cat back down on the stump and runs to Coy's side.
"Now, children. First you need to find a rose bush…" He points to a wooden stand with arrows pointing northward and southward. The text on the arrows is worn and no letters or words can be deciphered from it. "I suggest you go south first." The cat smirks and flicks its tail to the direction.
"This is obviously our Arena…" Hero states the obvious, gesturing towards the forestry around us. "Now we just need to find the actual place… and listen to the cat."
"Let's head this way!" I lead the way southward from where we were all placed. Jogging clears my mind of the things to come, the anxiety and dread ebbing away with every crunch of twigs and leaves. "Oh…"
A bed of roses blocks the way, much larger than normal ones and appear very stiff. Something seems very unusual about these and I reach my right hand out towards the roses. Hard as stone and rough as sand. I retract my hand back and find the skin to be red and raw.
"Ouch…" Rubbing my hand on my shorts doesn't help and just increases the friction. Everyone gathers behind me and examines the roses. "Don't touch them."
"What? Why?" Cord asks, Fenella following her lead.
"It's rough…"
"Like me in bed," Hero remarks, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
"Gross!" Mitzi punches Hero's shoulder and shrieks. Hero shoots her a dirty look and joins me and Ashton.
"Look what I found…" Mac enters the small area from the shrubs with a machete. His eyes are narrowed and a devilish smile stretches across his cheeks. "I could just kill you all now… hyyyaaahhh!" He swings the blade down, nearly cutting my arm off. The Careers, on instinct, swarm towards Mac while the others flee. Hero swoops in from the left and I to the right, Ashton goes straight towards the red head with the full intention to roughen him up a bit.
Killing him accidently will get us killed.
Ashton swings his leg under and connects his foot with Mac's ankles. Mac's knees buckle and he falls over, I grab the machete before the blade can sink into his chest.
"Dumbass…" Ashton spits as he dusts off his jeans, an angry scowl written across his usually calm demeanor.
"I'll be keeping that." I hold the machete in my left hand and jab my right index at Mac. "What the hell were you thinking?! Do you want to get killed?!"
He howls in laughter and stares deep into my eyes. "Ha, maybe I do. What are you gonna do about, bitch."
I lunge at him, my sense of formality and obedience gone as I wrap my hands around his neck. I watch in pleasure as he starts to choke, his face turning a light purple. Ashton pushes me back from Mac and grabs my shoulders. I can hear Mac coughing violently as Ashton whispers into my ear.
"Mac isn't worth being disqualified."
I let the anger reside and nod in agreement, clearing my throat. I spit in Mac's direction, casting spite in his direction. He just scoffs and walks off towards where we started. We head back northward and meet with the cat again. We find him at the stump licking his paw, it takes him a while to notice us.
The cat's yellow eyes scan the machete and he glances up ahead. "There's another rosebush ahead…" He scurries into the brush and we follow him. Another stump sits next to another bed of roses, but these seem like real ones. The petals are singed a bright crimson and seem to cast a dark shadow making the entrance impossible to get through. The roses' thorns are unnaturally large, the tip a dark purple.
"Use the machete to cut down the roses, Bri." Ashton gestures toward the machete I still hold in my hands. "Do you want me to-"
"I'll do it." I step forward, the machete feeling heavier in my hands than before and I swing the blade downward. It makes a clean swipe through the greenery and in just a couple minutes the rose bed is demolished. The worn out machete falls apart in my grasp and crumbles at my feet.
"You gonna go in? Might as well if you can't leave…" The cat vanishes, a single leaf left where he was. I sigh and venture forward, opening the Victorian house's door. It creaks open and an old musky smell fills my nose. The room is lit by two candles mounted on the wall ahead of us, swaying slightly from the wind outside. I avoid the large bloodstain on the floor planted squarely in the middle of the room and walk forward. My shoes are muffled under the stone flooring and my breathing seems louder in this small foyer of sorts. A single piece of paper is attached to the door and reads…
COME TO MY ROOM
I open the oak door and look back at the others, they also step around the blood puddle and enter inside the house. I count eleven of us. I feel my eyebrows scrunch up as I try to figure out who is missing.
Hero, Ashton, Mitzi, Fenella, Coy, Track, Cord, Lilac, Kale, Ember, myself…
Mac.
I watch Mac shuffle into the room, oblivious to the fresh bloodstain that reeks of iron and death. Just as he steps in the puddle, the walls to the left and right of him come together at lightning speed. The eleven of us don't have time to tell him that he's about to get crushed to death before the walls collide together. The ugliest sound imaginable gives birth to Mac's death, ringing violently in my ears. Not a scream, not a shout, or cry ever sounded from him.
It was too quick.
I can hear Fenella gasp loudly next to me, her large eyes brimming with tears. The rest of us stand paralyzed as the walls that came together now separate. A putrid and nauseating stench fills the room. The bloodstain is no longer just a puddle, but now a big mess. Blood and viscera coat the room from wall to wall and the ceiling. Like a grotesque flower, his remains are strewn haphazardly around the room. I hold my nose and turn my head away, catching some of the others do the same. Fenella and Chord puke into the potted plant, their faces green. Mitzi giggles and jumps up and down, her eyes dancing with amusement and awe.
I can't help and feel that his death was justified, after the stunts he's pulled before and at the start of the Games. A familiar sensation spreads throughout my body as I find the bloody pulp that was once Macintosh Wattson. A grin pulls at the corners of my lips and I suppress the need to laugh.
Karma's a bitch.
A/N: So… our bloodbath here will last until the end of the second day. Thank you to all my readers so far! There's sooo much more twists and turns in store, I hope everyone is as excited as I am! Remember, not all tributes are guaranteed a POV from this point forward. Be sure to check my profile periodically for update info on upcoming chapters and polls. Polls help me get an idea of what everyone's thinking and such :) be sure to vote! Blog will be updated shortly after posts.
1. Surprised by the deaths? Were they expected?
2. Do you like the way I've set up this chapter? If not, why? What can I do to improve it?
Maiandra "Andra" Goldenrod: For privacy reasons, I won't expose the creator's name for what I'm about to say. You guys remember when I mentioned in an earlier chapter of a 'Mary Sue/Gary Stu'? Well, yeah. This was a mistake on my part (and I needed tributes) but Andra here was a character whose profile didn't quite add up… I didn't feature her much because of it. Placed 36th.
Glint Gemstone: Glint was your sterotypical District 1 Male… but I sorta liked his back story (in Haymitch's Games where his sister faced off against Haymitch.) Other than that, he was okay. He made for some fine interaction between Steele and Carminha, though. Thanks to 'Flintlightning' for submitting him. Placed 35th.
Macintosh "Mac" Wattson: Mac was my character so I can't really say much on him. He was an asshole, but hey, we always need that one character who'll you won't miss much… Sorry, Mac. Placed 34th.
32 tributes to go…
Love Always, Domi