Helena Valentine-18 (District 2 Female)
I don't ... I don't know what I'm supposed to do. The logical part of me wants to help SB to stop the fight because I know nothing good can come from it.
At best, it'll end with Alfonso and Ariadne beating the ever-loving crap out of each other. At worst, they'll kill each other. And don't get me started on how bad it would be for me and SB.
No good can come from this, and I know it. But I can't bring myself to stop it from happening.
Because there's another part of me — which sounds just like my mom — that doesn't want me to stop it. It wants me to stand back and let them tear each other to shreds because that's what's best for me in the long run.
And, as much as I hate to admit it, that does make sense. In a sick, twisted sort of way. And I would have to be an even bigger fuck up than my parents think I am not to see that.
Because the truth is, this alliance is gonna end sooner rather than later. And when it does, I'll have a much better chance of surviving the fallout if one or both of Alfonso and Ariadne aren't in the picture.
Is letting them fight risky? Yes, it is. Is it insanely stupid? Probably. Will losing one or both of them make it harder to deal with Bellatrix and Shimmer? Of course, it will. Is that ideal? No. But it's not impossible. Not as long as I still have SB.
So, as disgusting as it makes me feel, I think I have to let them fight. I don't want to, but that doesn't mean it's not the right decision.
Or, at least, that's what the voice keeps telling me.
"Helena?! Please?!" screams SB, her eyes wide with terror as she runs up and grabs me by the arm. "We have to stop this before it gets worse."
I shake my head no, my face a mask of calm confidence despite the bile trying to force its way out of my stomach.
"But they'll kill each other if we don't stop them," she pleads, her voice low and desperate.
"They're gonna kill each other anyway, SB, and you know it," I say, my voice calm and even, my hand wrapped tight around the haft of her old ax as I stand here and watch as Ariadne tackles Alfonso to the ground before ripping her last knife out of her bandolier and jamming it into his shoulder.
"Why don't you do us all a favor and DIE!" she screams, her left hand on his throat, pinning his head to the ground as she uses her right to rip the knife out of his shoulder before rearing back to deliver the killing blow. "You worthless piece of shi—"
And that's when he strikes. In one fluid motion, he bucks his hips to throw Ariadne off balance, swings his right arm up into her elbow to break the hold on his throat, and explodes up and drives his forehead into her nose with a disgusting thwap.
The force of the blow shatters her nose and gives Alfonso the opening he needs to throw her off to the side before rolling over onto his knees to catch his breath.
"Ladies first," he coughs, his voice low and hoarse as he crawls over and collapses on top of her, pinning her arms beneath his body before slowly sliding his hands over her blood-covered face and up to her eyes. "I insist," he sneers, digging his thumbs into the corners of her eyes — drawing a terrified scream from her lips as she thrashes around wildly in a vain attempt to throw him off.
But it's no use. Alfonso's too heavy, and Ariadne can't get the leverage to buck him off. And after a few seconds, her thrashing ceases, and her shrieks taper off into soft, terrified little sobs as he lies there on top of her with his thumbs buried in the mangled remains of her eyes.
"Now, who's worthless?" he growls, his voice shaking with anger as he twists his thumbs in a little deeper — drawing a final, terrified little whimper out of her — before sliding his thumbs out of her eyes and rolling off to the side with a pained groan.
"Oh, my god," whispers SB, the color draining from her face as she races over to check on Ariadne, who has blood oozing out of her eyes as she lies there and sobs softly. "Alfonso, what have you done?"
"What I ... had to," he gasps, struggling to catch his breath as the adrenalin starts to wear off and the pain it's been masking comes rushing in to meet him. "Ariadne tried to kill me. I had to defend myself," he groans, wincing in pain as his hand gently probes the gash on his shoulder.
"Are you ok?" I ask, my voice calm and indifferent as I try to force myself to act and sound like I don't care.
"I don't ... I don't know," he admits, his face a mask of agony. "I'm having ... I'm having trouble catching my ... my breath. And then there's ... this," he says, nodding to the gash on his shoulder.
"Can one of you help me with it? Please?"
"What do you need?"
"The gauze, bandages, and iodine from the first aid kit," he groans, his voice low and faint, "and the needle and thread from the sewing kit.
"Do either of you know how to stitch or sew?"
"I do," whispers SB.
"Have you ever done it on a person?" he mumbles, his voice getting fainter by the second.
She shakes her head meekly, unable to bring herself to speak.
"Ok then. I'll try and walk you through it.
"Grab the sewing kit and the gauze, bandages, and iodine from the first aid kit," he says, struggling to keep his eyes open as SB moves to grab the stuff she needs while he uses one of Ariadne's discarded knives to remove the sleeve of his tunic so she can work. "Make sure you clean the area around the wound with the iodine before you start. Then go ahead and stitch me up.
"When you're done, put a clean gauze pad on the stitches and wrap me up."
"Should I sterilize the needle first?" she asks, her body and voice shaking with fear.
"Normally, you would. But we don't have time for you to boil it.
"So, I'll just have to hope I don't get an infection," he mumbles, his voice barely above a whisper as his eyes flutter closed, and he passes out from the pain just seconds before Ariadne takes her final breath.
~BOOM~
Pallas Eve Arguatha-18 (District 8 Female)
"Did you hear that?!" I ask, my heart racing as the crash of a canon reverberates off the stone walls of the massive main hall of the palace.
"Of course I did," mumbles Liz, her voice low and indifferent as she carefully slides my new leg armor into place and starts to strap it down. "I'd have to be deaf not to have."
"Funny," I say, rolling my eyes in amusement. "Who do you think it belonged to?"
"I don't know, and I genuinely don't care," she says, her voice flat and matter-of-fact as she finishes with my left leg and moves onto the right.
"How can you say that?"
"Because I don't," she says, shrugging her shoulders as she pulls the straps tight before popping back to her feet. "None of them matter to me, Pallas. You know that."
"And what about me?" I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it. "Do I matter to you?"
"Is that a serious question?" she asks, her voice a mix of pain and confusion.
It is, but I don't ... I don't know if I want her to answer it. Because there's a chance I won't like the answer, and that would crush me.
But I can't let fear stop me from knowing the truth. So, despite my gut screaming at me not to do it, I nod my head meekly and brace myself for the results.
"Of course you do, Pallas," she says, her voice soft and sincere as she leans in and rests her forehead against mine. "You matter to me more than you can possibly know.
"That's why I gave you the metal armor," she jokes, a playful smile on her lips as she pulls back and walks over to the pile of armor and weapons we brought with us from the other room to grab my new chest guard.
I can't help but smile at that, and not just because we both know it's a load of crap.
"Ok, let's get this on," she coos, pulling my tunic tight against my body as she slides the armor over my head and settles it in place.
"I feel like I'm wearing a door," I joke, my voice light and playful, my body groaning in anger at the added weight.
"Good," she giggles, her voice light and playful as she moves around to my back and adjusts something before tightening the straps. "It's supposed to. That's how you know it's working."
"And that's great," I say sarcastically, my body tingling as the thrill of having her hands on me starts to outweigh my body's displeasure with the weight. "But how am I supposed to move in it, Liz?"
"It's not that heavy, and you know it," she says, taking a step back to admire her work. "So stop being so dramatic," she giggles, her hands on my hips as she leans in and plants a loving little kiss on the side of my neck.
"I'm not being dramatic," I pout, my voice light and playful as I lean back into her chest and let her wrap her arms around me. "Take it back."
"Make me," she teases, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers lingering in places they shouldn't be.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I purr, my body melting into her embrace as I gently run my fingers over the intricate dragon design etched on her leather bracers.
"Like what?" she asks innocently.
"For me to make you do something."
"You know I would," she says, her deep, needy voice sending shivers down my spine as she tightens her grip on me and places a teasing kiss on my neck.
"Of course I do," I whisper, my body trembling, my composure hanging by a thread. "But I can't just give you what you want. Can I?"
"I don't know, can you?" she replies, smiling into my neck.
"Of course not," I mumble, my heart pounding in my ears. "I have to make you earn it."
"And how are you gonna do that?"
"I don't know," I whisper, my voice quivering, the air thick with anticipation. "I haven't gotten to that part yet."
"Do you need help?" she coos, her nose ring brushing across my face as she pulls back from my neck with a sigh. "Because I have an idea I think you'll like."
"What is it?" I squeak, my voice catching in my throat as her hand slides up my side to the straps holding my chest plate in place.
"You could ask me nicely," she purrs, her words causing my knees to shake.
"You want me to ask you for permission to make you do something?" I choke out.
"I do."
"And … how would that work?"
"I'm not sure," she admits, her lips on my ear, her fingers gliding over the straps of my chest guard with practiced precision. "But that's not going to stop you from doing it. Is it?"
I shake my head meekly, my heart pounding, my breath catching in my throat as I reach down and start untying her bracers.
"Then ask me, Pallas," she pleads, her voice low and uncertain, her hands trembling as she slides my chest guard off and lets it fall to the ground with a clang.
"Will you ..." I whisper, my lip quivering, my heart pounding in step with my raged and uncertain breathing as she gently runs her fingers down my arm, leaving a trail of goose pimples in their wake. "Will you please ..."
"Say it, Pallas," she begs, her voice and body trembling as she slides me out of her arms and turns me around to face her. "Please."
And that's when my composure shatters. And before I know it, I have one hand on the back of Liz's neck while the other fumbles with the straps on her chest guard as I pull her in for a deep, hungry kiss.
This is a mistake, and I know it. We both do. We both agreed that feelings are messy and dangerous under the best of circumstances, and these are far from the best of circumstances. That's why we couldn't fall in love.
So, we agreed to keep things casual. That was the arrangement I had with Luciana, and it's the one Liz and I came to after we finally admitted how we felt.
A little mid-game fling was fine, but we knew it could never be anything more than that. And we both knew it. That's why we promised each other we wouldn't let it get serious.
But we did. And I could honestly care less. Because for the first time since Evie died, I feel like life is worth living. And I owe that to Liz.
She makes me feel things I didn't think I'd ever feel again. She gives me a reason to keep breathing. And every second I've spent with her has been better than the one before it.
I love her. I know that sounds crazy — and given the circumstances, it probably is. But it's the truth. I love her.
And if these are my final days — which they probably are — I want to spend them with her, not just waiting to die like I've been since Evie passed.
I want to feel alive.
And, as I stand here with my lips on hers and melt into our kiss as she slides her hands inside the folds of my tunic and explores my upper body before breaking the kiss and attaching her lips to the little scar on my collarbone, I do.
"Make me feel like I'm worth loving."
Leandra Chandri-18 (District 6 Female)
"Dana, wait!" I plead, my breathing coming in short, ragged little bursts as I slow down to a trot and try to suck in as much air as I can before she can start sprinting again.
"What is it?!" she asks impatiently, her pace slowing to a walk as she turns around to check on me. "Is everything ok?"
"I can't ... breath," I gasp, my head spinning as I stumble forward a few more steps before my legs give out, and I crash to the ground in a heap.
"Leandra?!"
"I'm ok," I lie, my voice low and weak as I force myself back to my knees and take a few deep breaths as she sprints back to check on me. "I just need a second to catch my breath."
"Bullshit," she growls, her voice low and laced with fear and anger as she helps me back to my feet and slowly walks me over to a bench near the outskirts of the market square.
"I'm serious," I gasp, my chest and legs burning as I let her drag me over to the bench and flop down on it with a pained groan. "Just give me a few seconds, and I'll be fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I am," I mumble, my head between my legs as I choke back the urge to vomit as the world starts to spin again. "I'm fine," I lie, looking up and shooting her a weak smile as I force myself back to my feet. "See?"
And that's when my legs give out again. The next thing I know, I'm looking up at Dana from my new home on the ground with a pounding headache and a rivulet of blood trickling down my face.
"Ugh. What ... what happened?"
"You passed out," she mumbles, her eyes red and puffy, her cheeks stained with tears as she carefully presses the mouth of our half-empty water bottle to my lips and forces me to drink. "You're lucky I was here to catch you. You'd have split your dead open on the ground if I wasn't."
"I know," I mumble meekly, pushing the bottle away from my lips before trying and failing to force myself into a sitting position. "Thank you, Dana."
"Don't mention it," she says, screwing the cap back onto the bottle before tossing it aside and helping me sit up against a small wall to the left of the bench from earlier.
"How'd I get this?" I ask, pointing to the bleeding scrape on my head.
"After you passed out, I laid you down on the ground and went to grab the supplies, and you started convulsing. By the time I got back and got your head in my lap, you'd scrapped the crap out of your face.
"Luckily, most of the damage was superficial. But the big one's gonna scar."
"Well, I guess I'll have to have a closed-casket funeral then. Won't I?"
"That's not funny, Leandra."
"You're right," I whisper, a twinge of guilt ripping through my heart as I silently kick myself for making such a bad joke at a time like this. "I'm sorry. I'm just trying to lighten the mood a little."
"Well, it didn't work," she mumbles, her voice low and distant. "So, are you gonna tell me what happened? Or do I have to guess?"
"Your guess would be as good as mine," I lie, knowing full well that four days running for my life without food and as little water as possible is what did me in. "One minute, I was fine. And the next, everything was spinning."
"Uh-huh," she mumbles, a concerned look on her face as she turns away and starts digging through our bag of supplies.
"You don't believe me, do you?"
"Nope," she says, doing her best not to look at me, so I won't notice she's crying.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not blind, Leandra," she growls, brushing back a fresh batch of tears, her voice low and hurt. "And it hurts me that you think I am."
"What are you talking about?"
"You know what I'm talking about," she growls, her body tensing as she bites down on her lip to keep her anger in check. "Don't pretend that you don't."
"Dana, I'm serious. I really don't know what you're talking —"
"I know, Leandra," she says, stopping my lie dead in its tracks.
"Know what?" I ask, doing my best to look and sound like I'm genuinely confused.
"That you haven't been eating," she whispers. "And please don't tell me you have. Because we both know that's a lie."
"How long have you known?"
She shrugs her shoulders as she tosses our bag of supplies to the side and pulls her knees up to her chest.
"The whole time," she admits sheepishly. "I'm in charge of the supplies, remember?"
"Why'd you wait so long to say something?"
She shrugs her shoulders again before taking a deep breath and turning to look me in the eye.
"Because I thought you'd be smart enough to stop before it got this bad," she says, her voice flat and distant with just a hint of anger. "But you didn't. And I didn't know what to do.
"So I just kept hoping you'd wise up and do the right thing so I wouldn't have to speak up."
"That's not like you," I say, choking back the urge to vomit as the world starts to spin again. "You've never been afraid to tell me I'm screwing up. Why start now?"
"Because this is different, Leandra. And even I'm smart enough to see that," she whispers, a look of genuine terror burning in her soft brown eyes as she turns away and buries her face in her knees, so I won't see her cry. "That's why I'm afraid."
"You don't have to be afraid, Dana," I say, doing my best to sound calm and reassuring as I wrap my arm around her and pull her in for a hug. "I told you when we got reaped, I would take care of you in the arena, and I meant that.
"Nothing bad is gonna happen to you. I promise."
"You can't promise me that, Leandra," she whispers, her body trembling as she buries her face in my shoulder and starts to sob openly. "Especially not when you're hell-bent on martyring yourself."
"I'm not trying to martyr myself, Dana."
"Yes, you are! That's why you're trying to starve yourself to death."
"I'm not starving myself. I'm trying to be judicious without our limited food supply. And besides, it's not like this is the first time I've done something dangerous to protect you," I mumble, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
"And that's the problem," she snaps defensively. "You're so focused on protecting me that you forget to protect yourself. And it's gonna get you killed, Leandra!
"Can't you see that?"
"Of course, I can."
"Then why are you doing it?!"
"Because protecting you is the only thing that matters," I whisper, my shoulders slumping in defeat as my stomach lets out a defiant roar of hunger.
"Look, I know we've both gone out of our way to avoid talking about this, but I think it's time for us to have the conversation.
"No," she whispers, on the verge of tears. "We're ... we're not having that conversation.
"I ... I can't do it," she says matter-of-factly, popping back to her feet and storming off. "I won't!"
"Ignoring it isn't gonna make it go away, Dana," I groan, forcing myself back to my feet despite my body's protests and stumbling after her on my unsteady legs. "We have to talk about it.
"I know it's not something you want to think about, but we really don't have a ... choice," I say, the rest of my carefully prepared spiel dying on my lips as I come face to face with a pair of blood-red monsters that are glaring at us from across the square with hauntingly beautiful golden eyes.
"Leandra?!"
"Dana. RUN!"
Tranquila Fenix (Head Gamemaker)
"Be careful with those things, Tyreen," I say, my voice low and tinged with concern as I watch one of the mutts rear back and unleash a wave of blood-red fire that just misses cooking Dana and Leandra. "They're here to herd the tributes, not immolate them."
"I'm sorry, ma'am," she coos sarcastically, a disappointed look on her face as she reluctantly tweaks the mutt's aggression before unleashing a second wave of fire that singes the bottom of Leandra's tunic as she dives out of the way at the last second. "Is that better?"
"Not really," I growl, my eyes drifting down off the live feed to the phone in my hand as it starts to buzz softly. "But it's a start."
Oh, for the love of, what does Caspain want now? I wonder, my finger hovering over the decline button as one of the mutts smashes through a market stall and lets out a primal roar before shooting a stream of fire over Leandra's head.
"Dial it down a little more and see if you can use them to nudge Dana and Leandra toward the main career pack." I press the button and shove the phone back into my pocket.
"It would be easier to just let them kill them and get it over with, ma'am," mumbles Serina.
"It'd be safer, too," adds Octavia, her voice soft and distant as she splits her attention between what's on the screen and her job prepping the tribute for the fallen. "Considering the current state of the career pack."
"I'm aware of that, you two," my phone starts to buzz again, "and I've decided against using the mutts in that manner for the time being," I slip my hand into my pocket and press the decline button before shutting the phone off. "I'd like to avoid taking such an active role in things if I can help it."
"And if you can't help it?" Serina asks smugly as one of the mutts lets loose a stream of fire that just misses roasting Dana's arm and torches the bag of supplies she'd been reaching for.
"We'll cross that bridge when and if we come to it."
"Where's the fun in that?" asks Apollo as he leans back in his chair and puts his hands behind his head. "I get that you're trying to be careful, ma'am. But being careful isn't entertaining. Watching Dana and Leanda get torn to shreds by hungry dragons would be."
"I said no," I say as forcefully as I can. "And if we get that close again," I nod in the direction of the display as Leandra pulls Dana back to her feet and drags her away while the mutts circle around for another attack, "I'll scrap the mutts entirely.
"They're here to herd, not kill. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, ma'am," they say in unison, my words snuffing out the budding flame of excitement and energy that had permeated the room just a few seconds earlier.
"Good," I say, turning toward Tyreen expectantly. "Where are the others?"
"We dropped the yellow ones in the palace courtyard, and the blue ones are in the lumbar yard."
"And that puts them near ..."
"Pallas and Lizbeth and Bellatrix and Shimmer, ma'am."
"Alright. Have the blood-red ones chase Dana and Leandra for another few minutes and then pull them back to the market to nest. We'll keep the yellow ones under wraps until tomorrow unless Pallas and Lizbeth stumble across them."
"And the blue ones?"
"Keep them on standby," I say, the hair on the back of my neck standing on end as I look up and see my assistant Servilia standing at the door with a terrified look on her face. "In the meantime, let's go ahead and start the night cycle.
"Apollo, set the sun. Octavia, drop the temperature by three degrees celsius and adjust the wind to come out of the North East at two miles per hour. Serina, wait five minutes for everything to get settled and then start the tribute to the fallen.
"What is it, Servilia?"
"I'm sorry to interrupt you, ma'am," she squeaks nervously. "But President Ashwood is waiting for you in your office."
Death Order/Cause/Place
24: Hector Brennan - D5M - Speared through the back of the throat by Shimmer
23: Maira Renault - D12F - Speared through the eye by Shimmer
22: Sedge Hamilton - D9M - Throat slit by Bellatrix
21: Cypher Diamantis-D3M - Died of blood loss/ knife to the lung from Bellatrix
20: Luciana Bay - D10F - Drowned by Shirley
19: Shirley Gutters - D5M - Head split open by Sarah Beth
18: Ashlynn 'Ash' Haskell - D12F - Suicide
17: Asuka Tamura - D7M - Stabbed in the heart by Leandra
16: Bennett "Benny" Ramirez - D7M - Stabbed to death by Leandra
15: Oz Channer - D3M - Stabbed in the throat by Leandra
14: Ashton 'Ash' Drysden - D11M - Decapitated by Shimmer
13: Cassis Caldeira - D11M - Throat cut by Cornelia
12: Cornelia Harbor - D4F - Strangled with a chain by Shimmer
11: Sentri Baroslav - D9M - Stabbed in the throat by Ariadne
10: Ariadne Whitlock - D4F - Blood loss after having her eyes gouged out by Alfonso