.

I won't cry for you; I won't crucify the things you do.

Merritt Cordeau, District Four

I stare after the girl as she runs away, my pulse quivering with adrenaline. I grip the handle of my pike, resisting the urge to chuck it after her. Nobody else is moving; I'd be alone in my efforts. I don't fare well with being alone, really.

"She put up a good fight," Eidra mutters. "She made out like a bandit…"

"I knew she was a tricky one," I say, still gazing after her retreating form, which is currently slipping into the lollipop forest. "That training score, and her knives…"

"We need to eliminate her as fast as possible," Brux speaks out. His pale eyes flicker over our small group and he shrugs. "What? I'm being honest. We let her get away. If we were to chase after her now, it'd be a shot in the dark."

"Brux is right," Juno sighs, agreeing. "We need to make a plan to get the stronger competitors out of our way. The Career packs in the past have all disbanded early on – and we're each other's largest competitors, so maybe if we split up we can take on the bigger threats before eventually getting to each other."

"What are you suggesting?" Carisa squeaks out, holding her hand tightly.

Juno's face is unreadable, a mask of both grimness and pity. "I'm suggesting that we split up… if at least just for a while. To hunt down the larger threats."

"And then, when everybody else is gone…" Brux's lips move, but his eyes are glassy.

"We turn on each other," I finish solemnly.

There's silence for at least a minute straight. Nobody wants to be the first to talk, yet nobody wants to stay in the group. I muster up the strength to speak out, being the mature person that I always have to be. "Sounds like a plan, then. Who's going with who?"

Eidra and Carisa both stare at me, turning their heads in perfect unison. "I'll go with Eidra," says the latter girl.

"And we can band together." Juno pokes my side and nods to Brux. "We'll be a good team…"

"Is this it, then?" Brux, always the composed one, suddenly looks pale and washed out. "We're splitting up? For good?"

"I guess this is for good," Juno murmurs. Her eyelashes flutter and she stoops to the ground, retrieving her trident. "Everyone grab a backpack and we can start moving on out."

A very humane way of tearing the group apart, I muse to myself as I move towards the Cornucopia, bending low and picking up a backpack. I just start to slip something in it – a packet of dried fruit – when, out of the blue, the clean sound of a blade whistles through the air.

Whipping my head around, I face Carisa, her lips pursed as she retrieves another knife with her good hand, her aim obviously lousy. She's not being the smartest, I growl out to myself, my hand instinctively reaching for my pike.

Brux and Juno are staring at me, though, with eyes that are beseeching. "It's not worth it!" Juno shouts, hand wrapped around the handle of her trident, a satchel looped over her shoulder. "Hurry up, Merritt!"

I glance once at them, my mind reeling. My eyes then flicker to Carisa and Eidra, the latter watching me with widened eyes. Carisa's hand, despite crusting over with blood, holds her knives, while the other one throws another one lamely.

I surge forward, not even thinking.

Squealing in surprise, Carisa reels backwards as the pike shoots out where her head previously was. She'd ducked right in the nick of time, luckily for her.

"Merritt, stop it!" screams Juno from the outskirts, and Brux joins in her panicked screeching. I don't care. I block it all out, the only sound available to me being my own frantic blood pulsing in my brain.

Another swing of my pike goes directly into Carisa's shoulder, sinking into soft flesh and I feel the crush of bone and tendons in the blade. A howl erupts from her mouth, a terrible sound that makes me wince.

"You shouldn't have attacked me," I breathe out, withdrawing my pike, ready for another attack.

But something stops me.

A sharp pain in my back – in between my shoulder blades, specifically.

I gasp, wheezing for air, and shove my hand behind my back, blindly clawing towards the source of the pain. My fingers close around a handle, slim and cold.

Eidra stands behind me solemnly as I topple to the ground, gritting my teeth in the cold, cold, cold pain.

"You shouldn't attack my ally." She looks at Brux and Juno briefly, deciding that they're not threats, before she grabs another knife from Carisa, albeit roughly.

"It was…" she pauses. "…Interesting to know you, to say the least."

Her blade sinks into my chest.

And my eyes flutter shut for the last time, a groan hovering between my lips.

This is oblivion…

Brux Redragon, District Seven

Merritt's stone cold body dissolves into the earth.

Juno, beside me, stands in horror and shock. Her dark eyes swim with tears, and her eyelids close briefly.

"Hurry, Juno." I poke the blunt edge of my crossbow into her back. "We need to leave. They'll come after us next, and we don't want that, do we?"

Her lips tremble as she watches Eidra scamper over to Carisa, who still has the wound bleeding out, the scream still echoing from her throat. After a moment she nods, wiping away a tear, and quickly turns away.

I don't know how long we walk. It could be mere minutes, it could be an hour. But all I know is that we stop once we find something odd – a sparkling water source just beyond a gingerbread house neighborhood. It's pink.

Juno bends over. I watch as she dips her fingers in the shimmering magenta water and brings it to her nose. "It's sticky."

"What's it taste like?"

She flicks her tongue out and smacks her lips a couple of times, a sudden wave washing over her shoes. "It's really sweet… Kind of like soda."

I kick the ground, but instead of the usual cushy cloud, there's… sand? Powdery, chalk white sand.

"Look, the ground's different." I stoop down low so I'm on my knees, and then take a handful of the stuff. I know what sand feels like, and it sure doesn't feel like this.

"Is that sugar?" Juno asks.

I lick my hand, a saccharine taste flooding my mouth in the form of these odd little white crystals. "It is indeed."

Juno sits back on her heels, wiping her sticky fingers on the pink jumpsuit. "A candy beach. That's sure gotta be healthy."

I smile, turning to the gingerbread houses aligned neatly on the shore. "A beach," I repeat. "Those must be beach houses, then."

And indeed, as I glance over these houses compared to the landlocked ones, they appear different. They have high porches supported by thin spokes, even with little paper umbrellas printed with colorful patterns, much like the ones the chefs placed in smoothies back on the train.

"Beach houses," echoes Juno. Her big eyes glance back to me. "Should we?"

"I don't see why not."

Slinging my pack onto my shoulder, creating footsteps in the clean sugar sand, I patter my way up a hill, searching for a door for the beach house we're closest to. It's hidden beyond some vines, swirling with strange leaves and stems, like it, too, is made out of something artificial.

I'm not taking any chances. Taking a thin knife out of a pocket, I slice the vines away and push open the door.

The house is really dark. Juno's footsteps and hushed breathing behind me are all that keep me moving forward.

Feeling my way through the darkness, I feel for a light switch, but it's Juno who beats me to it. With a small "aha!" she flips the little knob on.

A scream promptly follows.

Once I whip my head around to see what she's staring at, petrified, a howl arises out of me from my gut, animalistic and guttural.

Three towering, bloodstained dolls with stitched, broken, red smiles sit at a kitchen table. The light makes their eyelids flick open, revealing pale, lifeless eyes.

And then, as if on cue, the chanting begins.

"Tribute, tribute, t-t-t-t-tribute."

"Get out!" shrieks Juno, shoving the butt of her trident into my back, propelling me forward. The door pops up right in front of my face, and I smack into it, my nose cracking with a snap.

As crimson blood rapidly begins to flow out of both nostrils, I fumble for the door knob… but to my utter shock, it's gone. It lies at my feet, smashed. I must have crushed it with my crossbow.

"B-Brux, what do we do now?" Juno's eyes well up with tears for the second time today, and she points a trembling finger at the dolls, which are slowly standing up, politely pushing in their chairs.

It takes me two seconds to turn to face her, and one moment to slap her across the face. "Toughen up!" I bark, surprising even myself. My hand stings from the slap. "This is what you've trained for, man! Your life's work! Don't let it go to waste now!"

Juno stares at me with tearful eyes. "But I'm scared…"

"You can't be scared, Juno!" My voice cracks but I persist. "You're the lone represent of District Four! You need to make us proud, make them proud! You can't let yourself go like this! You're all they have!"

A doll leans over Juno's shoulder, its mouth splintering open to reveal a mouth of cotton, with jagged, yellowing teeth sticking out at odd angles. Juno's eyes widen, and, much like with Carisa earlier, her mouth opens to shriek, but before any noise comes out, I clap a hand over her mouth, give her a quick thump on the head, and quickly pull away to swing my crossbow at the doll.

Its soft, fabric head quickly reveals that on the inside, it's just a porcelain ball. It quickly splits apart, showering us with sharp shards.

Juno, a brave face plastered upon her, steps up to the second doll, and whacks the prongs of the trident right on its head, making a sickening, hollow noise. Once again, the head dissolves into debris, and I throw an arm over my eyes to protect them.

The last doll stands in front of us, its beaded eyes glinting in the beam of the light bulb.

It reaches a slim, long arm out to the side, and its long fingers close around the handle of a kitchen knife, arranged carefully on the table next to a small plate of food.

"Oh my God," I whisper.

Juno's paler than the moon.

I stare down at my curved crossbow, unsure of whether to bash the mutt over the head, or to let Juno take the reigns on this one. Originally, if it were yesterday, or even an hour ago, I'd have smashed the doll right where it hurts. But today, I'm not sure. Juno's showed me how vulnerable she can be. Maybe it's my turn to step up my game, and protect her a little bit.

I step forward and swing my crossbow.

Braxton Malory, District Nine

I sip out of my water bottle before tucking it neatly back in my backpack. I gently lean my head back against the slide and sigh.

The playground that I've taken up residence in has so far shown no promise. It's large, and there's some great big plastic tube thing that's in the center, full of platforms that drop off into slides and poles and the sort. It stretches really high up, and I climbed it once or twice to survey my surroundings, but it's been the same old repetitive pattern of lollipops and fluffy carpeting.

Nothing's happened, and I hate it.

I exhale again, feeling the air breeze by my lips. It's not that I miss Griff and Cade – they were nice to know, but I'm not going to let somebody else's coffin rest on my conscience. For one person to win, twenty-three others fall down. And it was to be expected - I mean, they were some of the youngest kids here, and also not the brightest.

That doesn't mean I'm not sad for them. I am a little mournful over their deaths. They were nice guys to hang around, potential friends.

But like I said before, I can't get too attached.

I'm aware that I caused their deaths, in some sort of way. I stood by as they were impaled with that pike. Their lifeless eyes faded away, and I just kind of stood there. I have a tendency to back away from the more important parts of life.

I know that for a fact.

A slight tapping on my shoulder makes my heart race, but before I turn my head, I screw my eyes shut and my thoughts fly. Okay. A potential killer wouldn't tap you on the shoulder. He would slaughter you. It's safe to turn around. It's safe…

I slowly lift my head up from my hands and stare.

"Hi, Braxton!"

My heart drops.

It's Cade, shimmering but otherwise grinning like he did before he died. His eyes are vibrant, full of life, and he wears a similar outfit to mine, but it's bright red, crimson red.

He waves again, knitting his brow in slight confusion. Like he's confused why I'm not grinning, and embracing him, and ruffling his hair with a fist and laughing.

This… this isn't real.

"You're not real." My voice wavers.

He's a mutt.

Whatever he is, he looks hurt. "I'm right here in front of you, Braxton. Can't you see? I'm here. I'm not moving anywhere."

My words come in stammers. "Y-You're not real. You d-d-died!"

Cade frowns. He reaches his hand out to me and it glimmers, making my eyes hurt when I stare at it. "Do I look unreal to you? Don't be a jerk, Braxton."

His words hurt.

I rapidly get up, scrambling backwards before I promptly fall on my back. My breathing becomes rapid as the shiny Cade advances, eyes widening and lips pursing. "Braxton, please…"

"You're not real!"

This time, there's no stuttering. My voice is guttural and ready to crack. Cade's face, once so chipper and clear, is clouded. I can't see what he's feeling. He turns away, and when he talks this time, his voice is muted.

"I can't see why you aren't trusting in me, Braxton." The muttation that is Cade scowls, dramatically crossing his arms over his wiry chest. "I told you once. I told you twice. You denied me both times."

I clamber to my feet, making sure never to take my gaze off of him as he strides forward slowly. "Stop it," I pant raggedly, my fingers closing around the loop of my pack.

"Braxton." His eyes are stern, his lips pouted nastily. "Just give in…"

My hands form fists, tight little balls that wouldn't be afraid to throw a punch. "Get out of my head!" I scream out.

The mutt glowers, uncrossing his arms and drifting ever closer to me, but instead of running away like I should, I'm rooted to my spot in petrification. He dips his head to meet my ear and breathes out, his mechanical breath hot and wet on my ear. "You can't do anything anymore, Braxton. You are useless without Griff and me. Admit it."

"That's not true," I choke out, my hands trembling at my sides.

"You know it is." The muttation pops out in front of me, his lips peeling into a slow, deliberate smile. I can't stop staring at him, at his blood red suit and his shimmering skin. "You can't function on your own."

"Oh, yeah?" I challenge, voice wavering but still going.

"Most certainly."

I cast my backpack to the side, almost offering a dare for him to charge me. He raises his eyebrows in mock fright, but I take that as his weakness. I careen forward, catching the mutt off guard. We tumble to the ground, the cloudy stuff cushioning our fall. His fist juts out to catch my jaw and I moan, clutching at my head.

I roll off of him, skittering around like a bug on the ground as I try to get a grip. Mutt-Cade attempts to grab my knee; I kick his nose easily, but it doesn't feel like flesh and blood.

His face feels like hard, cold, plastic.

I shriek, barreling my foot into his head over and over again, never once stopping to see if he's had enough. No cannon will sound, I know that much. He's not real.

My foot hurts when I stop booting him. His face is no more; all I can see is shredded, thin tan plastic, still shimmering brightly as it barely conceals a rounded plastic skull, dented in multiple places.

I grab my backpack and stride away, shaken.

Aria Verselis, District Six

It's cold outside.

I stare desolately out into the dreary afternoon sky, the grey clouds hovering over the arena and cloaking the brightness of the colors in a dull shade.

Not pretty.

Pulling my knees into my chest and resting my chin on top, I watch from my perch on the beach house balcony as, a house over, Juno and Brux flip on lights, exploring their own building. It's been kind of fun to watch over them. It's like observing bacteria in a petri dish – you know you're safe, but you don't quite know what the objects are doing.

I wrap a lock of black hair around my hand, staring out as Juno pokes her head inquisitively out of a window, her red hair cascading around her freckled face, lips pouted. She quickly darts back in after a moment, as if even she's nervous to be outside.

The arena has that effect on people.

I'm not sure. Cayley and me never encountered anything other than the dolls – and those were freaky enough, thank you. No mutts other than those, and I think that's the way I want it to remain.

But that was back when I had Cayley. A friend, an ally.

Wiggling my fingers and making the ends of my hair dance, I shrug my shoulders almost carelessly. What's the point in staying here? I don't belong on my own. I can barely unscrew a cap of water without my fingers trembling. I need somebody. Anybody.

"Aria?"

A very familiar voice from behind me makes my heart stop for a moment. My eyelids fly open and I whip around, not even daring to lose one second imagining things.

There stands Cayley, beaming and waving one shimmering hand.

My breath hitches and I stare at her as she grins down at me, my pulse thundering. I don't even begin to hope that this is real. I reach out a hand, stroking her soft, sparkling skin, staring at her crimson outfit.

"Yeah, it really is me." She nods, flipping her silky dark hair, her lips perpetually lifted up at the corners. "I know, seeing is believing. Might be hard to believe at first, but…" She shrugs. "Hey, gotta start somewhere, right?"

I stare, standing up and stroking her hand. It's ice cold.

Cayley laughs slightly, shrugging. "Hey, are you gonna welcome me or not?"

Crystalline drops sting my eyes, but I don't try to brush them away. I let them fall freely, dripping down my cheeks and splattering onto the pale pink jumpsuit. Can I afford to trust her, whomever she is? Would the Gamemakers target me, an innocent girl who's done nothing to harm anybody? They've done it before, but…

But this is Cayley standing in front of me. And she was my friend.

I smile, taking her hand through my tears and offering a nod.

Before I know what's happening, the sparkly Cayley laughs, but this isn't tinkling and carefree like it was before her death. This laugh is filled with malice and deviousness, and her eyes flash red to match her jumpsuit.

"Wonderful," she cackles. "You know what I love most about this world, Aria?"

Her grip tightens around my hand, smushing my fingers. Attempting to wrench them free from her clutch, I shake my head.

"People are so easy to trick." Her eyes glow and she laughs again, her lips peeling apart to reveal jagged, sharp teeth. I suck in a breath, my lips quivering. I try to free my hand in a more desperate attempt, but it's in vain. Her hold on my hand is really, really constricting. "And you know what's the greatest thing about you, Aria?"

I whimper, my head shaking once more.

"You're so oblivious and naïve… you'll believe anything, just because you want a friend." She chuckles. "In the arena, they don't give you friends, Aria. They give you a choice. You can do, or die."

Goosebumps prickle over my skin and I squirm, trying to get free. I even try to use my voice to say a few precious words – "S-Stop it!"

Cayley leans in close to me, unaffected by my movements. "You can't escape the arena!" She shouts, her voice fluid and easy, yet loud and intimidating. "In your thoughts, words, and actions, nothing will be easy, you stay in the arena forever, and you like it!"

Her screaming never stops. My hand slips from hers in sweat, and I sink to the ground, hands pressed against my ears firmly, trying to block out her shrieking rant.

I don't know when the pain starts, the actual physical pain.

The only thing that I'm aware of, moments after my eyes have been shut to the world and my ears are ringing in agony, is something ripping into my side. I can barely muster to look at the mutt that is Cayley, hair rippling as she dips her head down to my hip, teeth digging into my flesh. She tears out a chunk and goes back for more, more, more, and all I can comprehend is shrieking, crying, and torture.

It takes forever to her to finish up biting into my side, and I can literally see my stomach or intestines or some internal organ jutting out the side. I don't fight back – I can't battle back. I'm done. I have no more fight left in me… I am nothing.

I stare up with defiant eyes at Cayley, the girl who betrayed me.

And then the pain overpowers me.

My eyes take in the sights of the arena – the mysterious pink smoke, the border of the balcony, and the grey sky.

And then, my eyelids slide shut for the last time.

I've given into little things during my life, but I give into death. Willingly.

Boom.

A/N: Bloody Mary by Lady Gaga.

14th- Merritt Cordeau, District Four. A knife to the back.

13th- Aria Verselis, District Six. Killed by reincarnation.

Immy, I liked Merritt. Like, a lot. I bounced the idea in my head of him becoming victor over and over, imagining the outcome and the development that he would undergo – but something stopped me. I'm not sure what it was, but yeah, please just know that he was so good that I kept thinking of him as my victor up until a while ago. Thanks for him!

Davi, Aria was my bae. She was everyone's bae. Everybody liked Aria and her beliefs, her little selective mutism bit and her personality. Was it as strong as some of the others? Most certainly not, but in my opinion, that's what made her a standout – she was normal, a sweet little girl who I could relate to. That's what made her special. Thank you for her!

Yeah, another chapter, another two deaths. We're at the top twelve, finally – can you believe it ;O feels like yesterday I published this, getting excited over submissions and such!

Anywaaaaaaays, it's question time. Sit yourself down with a couple bars of Hersheys and a bottle of SmartWater and enjoy answering them, maybe? :):)

Questions:

Thoughts on each POV?

Thoughts on each death?

Who do you think will die before Top 10?

Who do you want to die before Top 10?