Author's Note (Dec. 27, 2013) - This story is the 72nd Hunger Games. Yes, it used to be the 71st, until I realized Johanna won the 71st, which I'm surprised no one ever pointed out. So, wherever you see it mention the 71st, it's actually the 72nd. Thanks a lot! PS, if you're reading this, I'm still here. Reviews are always appreciated, just keep in mind, this was my first story ever, so be gentle!

As darkness quickly steals the light
That shined within her eyes
She slowly swallows all her fear
And soothes her mind with lies
Well, all she wants and all she needs
Are reasons to survive
A day in which the sun will take
Her artificial light

Noah Cooley

Riah. Dead. Riah. Dead.

I grip my canteen of water tightly, staring at the bloodstain on the floor with glassy eyes. It has been hours since the metal claw came down and pried Riah from my arms. I feel as if I've merely existed in a haze since then. Drifting in and out of consciousness, hardly able to bear the pain of hunger on top of losing her.

It crosses my mind several times how completely and utterly alone I am. I stare at the dagger that lays on the ground across from me. It is still caked with her blood.

For the hundredth time, I consider picking it up only to shove it into my own chest. It would certainly make things easier, and it would sure as hell be less painful than everything I am enduring right now.

I stand and go to it, picking it up and positioning it above my heart. Just as I'm about to end it, Riah's voice echoes in my mind, as clear as if she was standing right next to me.

"Listen to me. You have to get off this level. Go up to wear they dropped us in from or go down were Audrina and Crisis went, they obviously survived. Do not give up. Do not. You're going to win, or die trying."

Sighing, I drop the knife. Knowing that I cannot deny Riah of her dying wish, especially when it is my fault that she had to have one in the first place.

I crumble to the floor once more, feeling a sharp pain in my stomach. Tears stream down my cheeks and I lower myself to the floor, giving into exhaustion.

What must be hours later, a loud beeping sound jolts me awake and I look around the room, eyes wide with fear. It does not take me long to realize that I am not in any immediate danger. Only a few yards away is a fairly large silver parachute made visible only by a light blinking in the darkness.

Johanna.

Too weak to stand, I crawl towards the parachute and pop open the outer metal casing. A note slips out but I am so overwhelmed by the aroma of hot food that I cannot be bothered to read it.

A sizable bowl of stew, three packs of crackers, a small bag of beef jerky and some dried fruit. It's not much, but considering my stomach has been empty for almost six days, it feels like I have been given a feast.

I finish the stew in a matter of minutes and begin to chew on some beef jerky. Suddenly remembering Johanna's forgotten note, I strain my eyes and search the floor for several minutes before finally finding it.

I unfold the small slip of paper and hold it under the moonlight from the holes in the ceiling.

Now go get them. -J

Them. Them? I furrow my eyebrows in confusion before realizing what it is that Johanna wants me to do.

Crisis and Audrina. She wants me to go after them. She wants me to kill them. I shudder as I recall the far corner of the cave with all of the holes in the floor that I pushed them into. There's no way in hell that I'm going back there.

There has to be another way. Johanna wouldn't want me to go after them if there wasn't another way.

Racking my brain for any possible hints that their might be another way, I pack up the remainder of my food and Johanna's note and tuck them into my jacket. I reach down and pick up my knife before venturing further into the darkness of the cave.

It doesn't take long to find it, and I realize that Johanna must have been waiting for me to see it on my own, before realizing that I was such a lost cause that I needed a push in the right direction. I frown at the idea of what she had to do to gain sponsors for me, just so that she could send me a little food and a note.

I only had to walk about a mile before I saw it, a huge metal door, cleverly camouflaged with the same vines that cover many of the cave's walls. I hesitantly turn the handle, holding my breath as the door swings open with a loud creak.

I don't know what I expected to be behind the door, but it was most definitely not this. Below me are two flights of metal stairs, with harsh florescent lights attached by chains to the ceiling. I pause to listen for any movement, only hearing the faint sound of the buzzing lights.

I cautiously venture down the stairs. At the bottom of them is another door. This one opens much quieter than the first. I stalk down the hallway, noting that there are several metal doors on both sides of me. Curiosity is eating at me, and I am itching to know what is behind them, but I am not here for them now. I am here to find District Two and finish them. I have to kill them like I should have when they first attacked us. I turn a corner and stop dead in my tracks. This hallway is darker, the only light is coming from a small fire at the end of the hallway.

I know I have to be quick. Quiet and fast. The only things I have on my side are the element of surprise and the hope that at least one, if not both of them are too injured to fight back. A chill runs down my spine at the thought of facing both of them if they are well and able-bodied. I recall Audrina in training, never missing a target that she threw her knives at. It was common knowledge that District Two produced notorious female knife throwers. And Crisis was even more of a threat. He was skilled with spears, swords, and knives and had been one of four to score a ten with the Gamemakers.

I swallow my fear and venture further into the hallway, praying that the odds are in my favor today.

Audrina Prescott

"I think we need to see what's in that other room." I say to Crisis.

"Are you fucking crazy? Or did you just completely lose your mind. I'm pretty sure you were there when I got fried to a crisp yesterday."

He reaches for my hair and pinches the singed tips between his fingers.

"Right, we both almost died. You were definitely there."

I roll my eyes at him halfheartedly.

"We're going to be dead in a matter of days if we don't do something," I poke his ribs, causing him to squirm. "We're starving."

"I know, but there's no point in blowing ourselves to bits in attempt to get some food."

"Why? Maybe some rooms aren't rigged. And I'd rather die a quick death in a fire than a drawn out death of starvation." I retort.

With that I stand and storm down the hallway toward the door. Suddenly the wind is knocked from my lungs and I find myself on the floor. Instinctually I pull my knife from my belt and flip us over so that I am kneeling on Crisis's arms, pinning him beneath me. I lower my knife to his neck and feel the familiar fire that combusts before a kill creeping it's way throughout my blood.

"Ever been burned alive, Drina?" Crisis rasps out, trying to regain his composure, which must be difficult, considering his current position.

"Didn't think so. It's not as quick and easy as one may think." His voice lowers to a pained whisper and I try to swallow the lump of emotion that is rising in my throat.

I refuse to give in to him, gripping the handle of my knife tighter and pressing down onto Crisis, making sure there is no way he can get up. It's really not fair though, I know Crisis is too weak to fight me back. It's not him that I'm fighting though, when it comes down to it. It's myself. The part of me that wants to hold onto Crisis and never let him go is at a constant, relentless battle with the part of me that wants to cut his throat out.

"Just kill me," Crisis whispers, his eyes falling closed. "It's probably for the best."

The effect of his words are instantaneous, and I drop the knife immediately, my head is shaking as I lower my forehead to his.

"No. Crisis, look at me. No."

I pull him against my chest and run my fingers through his hair.

"No. I can't hurt you. I can't."

"I know, Audrina. I know. It's okay."

I wonder if he knows I'm not talking to him. I wonder if he knows that I'm talking to the darkness inside of me. I think he does. I think he knows the darkness too.

A few hours later, I stand in front of the metal door wondering if I have a suicide wish. Surely I must be crazy if I'm standing here risking what almost killed both of us only a couple of days ago. I look down at crisis, who has managed to free himself of the several blankets I wrapped him in. I wince as I notice how skinny he is. Still muscular, but I hate how easily I can count his ribs, even from a distance. His burns have improved greatly, but he's still weak. We're still weak.

I wrap my arms around myself as the temperature drops. My eyebrows furrow as I look upward at the ceiling with anger. The temperature has been consistently falling for the past twenty four hours, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that it is another Gamemaker ploy.

Isn't this enough? I want to scream. Haven't we suffered enough for you? You starved us, you burned us, and now you want to freeze us to death too? Why don't you send some mutts after us and be done with it?

I take a few steps back and lean against the wall, sinking to the floor. I cradle my head in my hands and press my fingers to my temples. A week ago, I was threatening to kill Crisis. I was nailing every target in training and scaring the young children for fun. A week ago, I would have been shocked at the things I just mentally screamed at the Gamemakers. I'm sure there is some part of me that still is shocked. I just can't bring myself to care anymore.

I let my hand fall and it lands on Crisis's head. His skin is warm and a little damp, but the fever has broken for the most part. I brush his blonde hair from his eyes and lean down to press a kiss to this forehead before dragging him far away from the door.

I decide that it's worth a shot. If there is the slightest chance that not all of these doors are rigged, I'm willing to risk it. Not wanting to waste any knives if the room explodes again, I pick up the bow and silver arrows that we haven't touched since we packed it with our things. While I am not as skilled with any weapon as I am with knives and daggers, I do know how to efficiently use any weapon ever created.

I sling the quiver of arrows onto my back and open the door to the room, jumping back immediately and preparing to run. But nothing happens.

I take a few tentative steps closer, careful not to step over the threshold. There are just as many boxes of supplies and food as there was in the first room. I take several steps back and send an arrow straight into the middle of the room. It pierces a box, but nothing happens. I sigh and drop the bow, realizing that I'm going to need to put a lot more force into it if I'm going to make sure the room is safe. I drop the quiver next to Crisis, who is still asleep, and pick up a few knives from the huge collection I've acquired. I managed to steal all the knives we pulled from the Cornucopia on the first day after Bravo decided he had a newfound affinity for machetes and spiked maces.

I make my way back to the open door, feeling more confident now that I am back in my element. Gripping the first knife, I throw it into the same box with so much force that it and the boxes on top of it topple to the ground, spilling out several cans of food. There is no explosion.

I throw the next two knives at boxes in the far left and right of the room, both having the same toppling affect. I'm almost positive that the room is safe, but I take the remaining knife and throw it into the ground, just over the threshold, in the exact place that Crisis stepped in the other room. A smile breaks across my face as nothing happens and I dash into the room and begin unpacking the first box I can reach, completely overcome by hunger and the need to satiate it. I pause as I realize how incredibly stupid that was, but I continue after I realize that the room is of no danger to me.

Sometime later I have dragged several boxes from the room and started a fire. In front of me are several plates of food; crackers with beef jerky, bowls of stew heated by the fire, sliced apples and pears, and loaves of warm bread.

I am about to wake Crisis, when I turn and find him staring at me. The dim light from the fire makes his skin glow. His eyes though, his eyes are shining with much more than just firelight. It is a mixture of lust and love, admiration and envy, appreciation and hatred.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask angrily.

"I don't know," He says, shaking his head. "A few days ago the only two things I wanted were to fuck you and to kill you. So badly that I couldn't see straight. A few hours ago I wanted you to kill me, simply so I could be done with all of these feelings. It's so much easier being a soulless monster."

I nod, completely understanding, and hand Crisis a bowl of stew. I don't want to talk about it anymore. I don't want to bring to life the horrors that haunt me in my sleep. I don't want to remember all the people I've killed, and how much I enjoyed doing it. I don't want to come to terms with the fact that both of us can't make it out of this arena. And I don't know what seems worse, dying here, in this hellhole that fucks with your mind and takes away everything that used to be real. Or winning, and going home with all of the memories that I hardly lived through the first time.

We finish all of the food in silence and I eventually find myself wrapped up in Crisis's arms once more. All is forgiven. We know it without saying a single word. My eyelids are heavy and I feel myself giving in to sleep. I hear faint footsteps in the distance, but I am sure they are just a part of my dream. No one would come down here, no one even knows that we are down here. Except-

"Audrina!" Crisis's scream fills my ears and my eyes fly open.

A knife is flying towards us.

His arm crosses my stomach as he throws me out of the way, but I roll out of it and rise into a fighting stance, pulling two knives from my jacket and throwing them at the boy from Seven.

One lodges itself into his back, the other into his right bicep. I pull out two more and throw them, one into his leg and another into his back. He is still running, but I know he won't get far at all.

I turn back to Crisis, "I'll be back, I'm just going to make sure he's dead."

"I-I d-don't know if I'll be here when you get b-b-back."

My breath catches and I bring my hands to my mouth in a vain attempt to subdue the cry that rips itself from my chest.

The knife that Dictrict Seven threw at us has sunk itself into Crisis's chest. I rush toward him and pull him to me.

"No. No-no-no. This isn't happening. You're gonna be fine, you'll be okay."

Tears are spilling from my eyes, but he reaches up to brush them away.

"Shhh, don't cry. I need-" His breath catches as he coughs, thick blood spilling from his lips. Tears pour down my face faster now, and I reach for the nearest backpack, digging through it to find medicine, gauze, anything. The anthem begins to play, and faces begin to flash on the walls. It does not interest me, my only concern is to make sure that Crisis's face does not join them.

"Drina, stop. It's no use. I jus- just need y-you to be strong for m-me."

His voice has dwindled down to a hoarse, almost inaudible whisper. I let the pack fall and pull Crisis's head into my lap.

"I love you, Audrina."

"I know. I do too. I think I always have."

"You h-have to win. For me. P-promise me."

I nod furiously through my tears, "I promise, Crisis. I promise."

"That's my girl."

His chest rises and falls, taking more effort each time.

"Close your eyes, baby. I'm right here. It's okay." I squeeze his hand tightly to let him know that I'm not leaving him.

"It hurts."

It occurs to me that there is nothing I wouldn't do to take away his pain. I press my lips to his softly and brush his hair from his eyes, just like I did only a few hours ago.

"I-I know. It's okay. You can go home, Crisis. Y-you can go home now. I-I'll be okay, you go home."

It seems to calm him, and his breathing slows. His hand goes limp in mine. His chest falls for the final time, and for a split second my only emotion is relief that he is no longer in pain.

Then, a cannon sounds and I am reminded where we are. Grief consumes me.

"Crisis! Crisis!" I scream, throwing myself over his body. "Come back to me, please. Please... I need you. I can't do this without you. I can't live without you."

I shake his shoulders violently, "Wake up! Come back! You have to come back!"

Painful sobs erupt from somewhere deep inside me as it starts to sink in. I am alone. He is not coming back to me.

The grief turns to anger and I yank the dagger from Crisis's chest. I step back and bring my bloody hands to my face as I watch the metal claw reach down and wrap it's cold fingers around Crisis's helpless body.

Overcome with rage, I shove every knife I have into my belt and jacket before setting off in the direction that District Seven ran, following his trail of blood. Never have I so badly wanted something more than to rip that boy's heart out.

Deaths:

Crisis Cavitch

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