Breaking Down.
Holding my hand in the pale gloom. Can you see it coming now?
Joshua Kersey, District Eight Male.
I throw myself backwards, just as the glass pane smashes before my feet. The shards skitter in different directions, mixing with the pebbles.
I glance up at the ceiling, realising that it's falling much faster. Before, it was high up, so high that you could never, ever touch it. But now it's fallen. Fallen so far, that the hallways are turning into boxes, suffocating the air from within.
Rafe's image burns in my mind, sizzling away at the already burnt fibres. I have to move fast. The quicker I can avenge Bryony, the quicker I can focus on survival. A disgusting thought washes over my body, making me feel insanely guilt. Quickly getting it over with. Not with Bryony. Never with Bryony. For her, for us, I'd take forever and even longer. I'd kill every single tribute bare-handed, if it meant that she could finally lay in peace, away from the sadness that Rafe's survival brings.
I move through the hallway swiftly, keeping my eyes focused ahead. Bryony's face blurs, chasing me along, her once sweet eyes still glittering with fresh tears. I pause, spinning around to her.
"Please stop crying, Bryony," I mutter, slowly touching the mirror. My hand throbs in pain, shards of glass still trapped under my skin, but I don't care. Not when Bryony is here. "I will find him for you."
Her eyes turn cold. "I know where he is," she whispers, hauntingly chasing into my mind. "I can help you, Joshie. I can help you find them both."
"Both?" I reply, feeling the anger once more. Rafe has a new ally? Were we nothing to him? Was Bryony... no, of course she weren't nothing to him, otherwise he would've tried harder to actually save her.
Her hands fly to her shadowy face, hiding her lips and nose. "Arietta. He sought her out. He... he always cared more for her than us... than me."
The fire floods through my veins. I can feel it empower me. Angrily, I spin around and slam my fist into the mirror once more, hearing a faint crack. The fire is replaced with a dull pain but I push it away. No, no pain, not when I have other things to do. I won't allow something so trivial as pain control me. "Then help me."
Bryony giggles. "Okay, Joshie."
Her shadow form turns into a snake, slivering through the translucent panes. I hastily follow, making sure to keep her in my sights.
I fly around corner after corner. Then, she just stops.
"There." she returns, and then points a finger down another corridor.
I hold my breath for a second. A small, broken sob resonates in the air, breaking the silence. I can't help but grin - Bryony really need lead me to them. At least, I hope it's them. I keep quiet, just listening to see what I can find out. To see if Rafe was planning to betray us all along, or if this was a moment of weakness for him. After all, he spent hours doting on Asya, only for her to die. He could do with another pet project of his.
"Arietta," Rafe. I knew it! "It'll be okay. Jericho... he's not coming to hurt you or anything. We... we saw him die. You can't fake that."
"I'm not worr-" there's a tight pause, the dramatic shift noticeable in the air. So her ally is dead then? He must've been one of the cannons. At least Rafe isn't taking the easy way out like Caritta, getting herself killed just so she wouldn't have to face the guilt in human form, in me! "It's just... I-I betrayed him," she grows quiet, barely a whisper. I have to strain my hearing, just to clarify things. "I left him alone, sent him mad, a-and now he's... he's dead..."
Arietta is Rafe's district partner. She's like Bryony, but to him, she's worth more, even if they didn't team up. It makes me sick. I can feel it broiling in my stomach, controlling my actions. I mindlessly pick a shard of glass from my palm. The knife throbs in my pocket, waiting to be released.
For Bryony's sake, I will strike Rafe down in his blackened heart.
I crane my head around the edge. Rafe and Arietta are sat down, but there's a good distance between them. Arietta is closer.
Do I do it? An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth... a district partner for a district partner? It's a tantalising idea. It would really hurt Rafe. He'd understand how I felt! How I felt having to leave Bryony behind, because he told me to protect Asya!
My lips curl into a snarl as I walk around the corner. Within an instant, Rafe notices me, jumping to his feet.
I slide the knife from my pocket, the light catching the blade and making it glimmer. "I'm here to put Bryony to rest."
Arietta stands. "R-Rafe?"
"Joshua, don't," he warns, his voice low. I can see the anger in his eyes again. Rafe tries to act all sweet, but underneath the surface, he's a monster. "Y-You don't have to do this. I didn't kill Bryony, for fuck sake!"
It's too late for that. To late to admit his wrong doings. He did it, even if not physically. He commanded that I leave her. In the confusion, the chaos, he told me to find Asya. He told me to forget about looking for helpless Bryony, and to protect the brat. I did it because I trusted him... he said he'd find her, but he didn't... not until she was already a corpse.
I take a step forward. Rafe, in a flash, jumps for his own knife and shows me it.
I expect Arietta to stand behind him, so that he could "valiantly" protect her from the inevitable. But she doesn't. Instead, Arietta arms herself with a knife, and stands by his side.
"Fight for me, Joshie."
So I lunge forward.
Rafe Corinthos, District Six Male.
Joshua runs forward with determination. For a brief moment, I'm frozen, staring at the boy that I once saw as my friend. Now he's my enemy, my possible murderer, all because of something out of control!
I push Arietta to the side, sparing her the chance. I dodge his knife slash barely, just missing my chest, and sloppily stab out. Joshua easily blocks it but I'm quick to tackle him, knocking the weapon from his hand. We fall onto the ground, a wave of pebble dust blowing up around us.
I stab angrily with the knife, not even thinking. I see an attack and I want to defend myself... and Arietta now.
Joshua moves, sending a fist into my chest. The pressure knocks the air from my lungs, forcing me off his body. I try to kick out as I land but Joshua simply grabs my ankle, dragging me towards him. I meet Arietta's frightful eyes, and with a curt nod, she dashes forward to join the melee.
The grip on my ankle is released. I spin around as Arietta attempts to fight him, but she's too kind and gentle, not able to go through with her fluid motions. Joshua counters easily with a slap of his hand, sending Arietta reeling into the mirrored wall.
I jump to my feet and charge forward once more.
Joshua spins around at the last second. With some unknown strength he has, he stops me in my track, digging his heels into the dirty floor. He slams a closed fist onto my back, sending a wave of pain that tickles across my spine, making my legs feel like gelatin.
I try to gather my thoughts, but everything feels so jerky and tired, even in my thoughts. I don't know how much fight I have left in me. I never... I don't want to kill him, at any cost, because he's still Joshua and I've never taken a life before. Never even thought about it. I volunteered for the sake of many things... but it was never to kill.
I guess I didn't think it through properly. It's okay; I'll probably be dead soon anyway.
I try to fight back against Josh, but his grip is deadly, holding me in place. Arietta hasn't reacted either, slumped on the ground, a faint trail of blood smearing the mirror. It came from her head... and my heart clenches. Something ignites in me.
With a flick of my wrist, I jab Joshua in the stomach, causing the boy to retch. I force myself backwards, staggering.
"I didn't do anything!"
"You did," he snarls, teeth bared like an animal. "You let her die!"
"I didn't know where she was!" I argue. "I never... I never found her in time! I'm sorry, Josh, I'm sorry!"
"She's dead and it's all your fault!" he screams, tears pricking at his eyes. Everything inside of me slows down to an uncomfortable pace as I watch him. I guess I never considered how much he cared for her... or it's a simple trick to lull me into false security. I look carefully at my knife on the ground, buried half under stray pebbles. "You killed her!"
He charges towards me. As quick as a flash, I dive for the knife, before his boot crushes my hand to the ground. I scream in agony, hearing my knuckles crunch.
I strain my eyesight. In a swift motion, Josh jumps with his other boot, swinging it forward. I see the cap of his shoe before it collides into my nose. I howl again, sickness rising in my throat. The world blurs at the edges, peppered and black. My head spins and I slump, defeated. I can barely see anything... the pain, oh the pain...
I hear his footsteps, though, and I can feel his cold breath over my ear. "I'm going to take away the same thing you took from me. As punishment, Rafe," there's a sharp inhale. "Because you're not so perfect." he hisses.
What does that mean? My mind races, fighting against the oncoming dizziness. What does he mean? What did I take from him?... I didn't take her! He's... he's going to hurt Arietta over something I had nothing to do with?
The arena has corrupted him far too much. I thought I couldn't hate him, but I'm starting to learn that it's possible. I pitied him more than anything. Now... now I've realised that I have to take him out, otherwise he'll hurt others.
I hurriedly blink away darkness, and begin to crawl. There's a dull pain on my nose, between my eyes, over my lips. I'm probably a bloody pulp. I don't care, not now, not when I know what he's going to do.
"Please don't!" I hear Arietta's shrill voice.
My eyes fly open. I see Joshua, armed once more, lowering himself down to Arietta. She's sluggish, blood matting her hair together. She attempts to fight him away, but it's no use. In a sharp jab, Joshua plunges the knife into her chest, ripping a scream from her throat. She cries and screams harder and harder, and at some point, I think I scream alongside her.
Blood pools at her body. She's still fighting, though, clutching her hands around the wound.
I drag myself further and further forward. Every fibre in my body aches and wants to just stop, but I can't... I have to do it...
My fingers curl around my knife nearby, each movement making my body violently shake. Arietta's body finally falls, her hand outstretched towards me. Her cannon resonates in mind, bouncing off of the hollow walls.
Arietta...
Joshua turns around. And, somehow, somewhere, I gain enough strength to stand up on shaky legs. I grip the knife harder, scared that it might just slip through my fingers.
I look at Joshua through my parted eyes, the light around making it much worse. I see the faint sign of a grimace, before he swiftly moves towards me.
I keep the knife towards my chest as Joshua tackles me to the ground again, pinning me down. I don't fight... I don't want to fight... I keep the knife near me, waiting silently. His knees dig into my sides, and just barely, I can see the silver blade hovering over my face, his feral eyes watching from behind.
"Any last words? Maybe an apology to Bryony?" he spits.
"...Y-Yeah, I have..." I choke out, emotions clogging up my throat. "I'm sorry..."
His eyes widen as I slide the knife into his gut. His lips part, blood cascading off of his tongue and landing on my throat. His grip weakens and gently, he leans towards the side, before falling off. Desperately, he clutches his stomach, hands smothered in his own blood.
I can't fight the guilt inside of me. I lay there, heavily breathing, looking at the oncoming ceiling as it falls into place, effectively making the hallway a complete, trapped box. I can sense the lack of oxygen in the air immediately... or maybe that's my body failing on me. I fight against the darkness, still hearing Joshua's whimpers.
I... I killed him... he'll die without a doubt, and I caused it.
I killed my former friend, my potential murderer, the boy who lost his mind...
His cannon booms shortly after. And, with it, my heart shatters.
I'm all alone now.
Rotem Everly, District Seven Female.
The anthem blares, and Lancel silences instantly.
We both look up to the ceiling as the first scene plays out, confirming that Jericho is dead. I always knew it'd happen... and, deep down, I'm slightly glad. He was a nice man. I didn't want the arena to corrupt, nor that sweet girl from District Six, his ally. They always looked happy when I saw them, and well, Jericho often blushed at the sight of her.
My mood saddens. Everyone is dying now. I should've let earlier, like Lancel suggested. I shouldn't follow my Mama's blind advice because she doesn't understand... doesn't understand how lonely it can be sometimes to be me, or even in a place where company means sanity. I needed Lancel, even if I don't fully trust. I still do need him. I think.
Jericho is standing in a hallway, not long after Andora's death. The mirrors move towards him and I shy away, unable to see. Lancel keeps me updated, though, his voice low and cold.
"They crushed him. His bones snapped, his organs turned to mush..." he grows quiet. "It's pretty disgusting. And he was smiling the entire time."
It wasn't him obviously. No-one would smile at death. I swallow thickly, looking back as the scene shifts to Ampry Erfinder from District Three losing a fight to District Five's Ellery Haynes. Again, she dies with a wispful smile on her face, and the sight makes me sick again.
The shadows move. Jericho's ally falls at the hands of the District Eight boy, Joshua, who falls shortly after to Rafe from District Six.
"Who's left?" I ask.
"You, me, Gloria and Cres, Ellery and Rafe," he smiles slightly, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Six more people left. The feast will probably be announced soon," his eyes then darken. "Are you sure you want to stay, Rotem?"
And there's the big question. Negatives outweigh most positives, but honestly, there's a large positive that keeps me here. And that's my dreams.
I've never been around people this long before. It's not that I'm hated, I'm just... it's hard for me to speak to most people. My mind and my tongue don't tend to stay on the same path. People don't avoid me, I avoid them. But I promised Mama that I'd make allies, an alliance even, and I'd stick with it. I'd prove her wrong that I can be around people, and I can make friends.
It's probably the only thing keeping rooted to sanity at the moment. When Thorn died, I should've cried. When Lancel blamed me, I should've been angry and loathed him.
But I simply remembered my goal, my learning curve, and decided against it. It helps give me purpose, a purpose to keep going in a place that's determined to shoot me down around every corner. I need that. I need something to remind me of what I can lose, but what I can win.
"I'm fine here." I smile softly.
That, and I'm bettering my social skills. Believe it or not, the more time I've spent around Lancel, the more I know his habits and can read him better. I was never good at it before. It was always like I was talking to a brick wall that never changed anything because... because I didn't understand. It just flew over my head.
I'm growing as a person. And I didn't think that'd be possible. I had told myself to make an effort, to try my hardest to change myself. I wanted to. I knew that I would likely be dead in a matter of days, and I couldn't... I couldn't die being like this... without completing my dream of being a bit more normal.
Lancel turns around. "Rotem..." he whispers. "You're pretty amazing, you know, and I don't deserve to be your ally."
And then he throws a spanner in the works. I blink a few times. "Pardon?"
He moves swiftly, planting a kiss to my cheek. Heat invades my cheek, and I have to turn away in order to not blush too heavily. No-one has ever kissed me before... but he has a girlfriend! Lancel stands up, collecting his backpack. "I've been nothing but an asshole to you... because I lost myself, because I lost who I am."
I swallow thickly, a lump forming in my throat. "A-As I said, it's fine..."
"It's not," he laughs, kinda ruefully or something. He hangs his head a little. "I got Thorn killed because I'm a... I'm a Career. I was born and bred as a Career. I'll die a Career. But you know what?" his lips turn into a smile now, a mixture of emotions tracing his face. "I'm a Career, I'm not ashamed, but I'm not like them. I'm not out to hurt people for the fun of it," he laughs again. "I'm a Career and I'm proud of the way I am because I'm not like them! I share their name, not their attitude!"
"A-Are you okay?" I ask carefully, Lancel now buzzing with newfound energy.
"I finally get it." he shakes his head. "Come on, Rotem, we have a feast to attend. It's going to end soon."
"It hasn't been ann-"
"Tributes, tributes," the voice suddenly booms, amplified by the mirrors. I swallow thickly again, tucking some hair behind my ear. I'm not ready. I'm not ready... I don't want this, I don't want this... "Well done to you all. For your participation, we are now holding a feast. Each of you needs something, wants something, and soon enough, it will be within a backpack marked with your district number by the Cornucopia. Think about it, tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favor."
Lancel takes my hand gently and helps me up. "We don't need anything. But everyone else might. Rotem?" I look him dead in the eyes, his dark eyes staring at me intently. "...I hope you can forgive me for everything, and fight by my side... if you want to, that is."
I brighten up a little. "Of course."
I'd rather die with a friend than alone, lost in an arena that holds the deceased.
Cres Rhodes, District Two Male.
I scout the perimeter of the Cornucopia, making sure to look down the hallways. My whole body betrays me as I shake with fear, knowing that with a finale coming, the danger will increase. The Gamemakers will throw in dirty tricks and tactics to make for better entertainment, and frankly after the Father-Shadow Austal situation, I'm not prepared.
I swallow thickly and return to Gloria, whose still trapped inside the golden horn, her leg making walking almost impossible.
"They'll be here soon," I say quietly as I enter the horn. "I just know it."
"Our only competition is Lancel and his ally, mind you," Gloria says through gritted teeth. "...I-I can still throw my knives..."
She's lucky, really. Her best weapon doesn't require her to parry and fight opponents head-on. She could target from a distance, pressed into the shadows to be undetectable. She has it easy, well, you know, without the poisonous infection that's eating away at her thigh. That Mutt got her good. And, sadly, I don't think Gloria can hold on much longer.
Angrily, she wipes away the sweat on her forehead, a whimper breaking her throat open. I pluck the cap off the canister and pour the contents down her throat.
"I hate this," she complains. "I feel useless."
I sigh. "I'm here though. You're not going through it alone." I add with a smile.
She smiles slightly, but there's no effort in it. I shouldn't be surprised; Gloria has always been the one that's the most detached from us. Lakyn tried too hard, Andora was too snarky, Austal was too withdrawn. I made the efforts that often got rebuffed.
They should be here. Well, maybe not Lakyn, but the rest of them. We shouldn't have split. Austal... he shouldn't have died. I swallow thickly, shaking my head.
I bet Father is finally proud. Of course not... I'll probably never please him. Win or death, he only wants me to do his bidding. Whatever I do, it'll be scoffed about, shaken off. He beat me into a game that he can't control, and secretly, it's probably eating him alive that I haven't made more of an effort.
He's probably screaming at the screen, telling me to pummel Gloria's skull in.
But I won't listen to him. He can't always have his way like some spoilt toddler!
"I'm going to check outside again," I say, needing the air. "The arena is collapsing, you know. I bet an hour at best," I smile uneasy, the thought much more unpleasing than I ever imagined. "Eat something. Build up some strength."
The power shift once more. From Lakyn, to Gloria, now to me. Someone has always been in control, until they're out of action. I can't help but smile at the awful situation. If I didn't, I'd probably crack. I don't know how much more I can take. I can feel my body split in two, desperate for survival, desperate for life, desperate for affection and love and trust and appreciation.
There's a sudden crack in the air.
I spin around, my mind frantic. Fear swallows my insides as I look around the room, my own terrified expression returning to me.
But then suddenly there's something behind me. For a brief second, I see the lanky Mutt, before I throw myself to the ground.
"Gloria! The Mutt is here!" I scream.
I roll over on the floor, the Mutt now appearing suddenly over me. I quickly dodge his sharpened claw as they slam into the ground where my head was briefly, the tips sizzling as if they're burning. That's what happened to Gloria!
I throw myself between his legs, spin around, and slice out with my sword. But he's gone again!
My heart pulses in my throat. I steady the sword, eyes locked on the mirrors to help me. I turn around slowly in the circle, hearing my heartbeat in my eyes, just thumping harder and harder, a rush of blood that blocks up my mind.
It appears again. I spin and slash once more, but the creature seems to move around it, allowing the sword to go through the stomach without hurting him. That's when my eyes flicker to his shoulder, a hole piercing straight through the creature's body. He's not totally invulnerable then! I jump forward and slash again, but once more, it avoids the damaging hit.
"Gloria!"
"Come here!" her voice calls back.
I turn back, but the creature is gone. "Stop that! Fight fairly!" I shout into the air, before running towards the Cornucopia's mouth. My whole body is frantic, still shaking violently. When I reach the mouth, Gloria is perched on a box, a package of knives in her hand. I don't need to ask - I understand her eyes, the way they narrow dangerously.
I'm the bait.
"Cres, duck!" she screams, a knife sliding into her hand and cutting through the air.
I throw myself to the floor once more, a gurgled screech piercing the air. It doesn't even sound remotely normal!
I look over my shoulder, the creature staggering backwards, the knife implanted in the chest. The arms and legs disappear, but for some reason, as if trying to fade away, it can't. Everything absorbs into the knife and then repels backwards. The knife is keeping it from running away... Gloria obviously learned from that last encounter.
The Mutt can't run! Now's my chance! I scurry from the floor and onto my feet. Grabbing a spear, I charge towards it, launching the metal arrowhead into it's forehead. The same screen echoes throughout the room, much sharper and higher than normal. I clamp my hands over my ears and stagger to the side, feeling the sickness rise in my chest.
The creature screams again. When I look through blurred eyes, I see another knife embedded in it's emotionless, white face.
The Mutt pauses. With a final attempt to flee, and realising the failure in that, it screeches so loud, I can feel my brain thumping in pain. I scream, clamping my hands over my ears even tighter... my palms grow warm, blood squeezing through my fingers... "Ahhhhhhhh!"
A loud crack resonates through the wound. I look towards the Mutt, standing in the middle of the room. The screech dies to nothing, but suddenly, the Mutt explodes, shadows blasting outwards.
The mirrors surrounding the bloodbath shatter one by one, the noise deafeaning, my ears still literally bleeding.
Then the haunting silence comes. I don't dare remove my hands. I keep them locked, curled up on the floor, staring ahead at the cracked, reflected image of myself in a nearby mirror. It reflects me on the inside too. A broken boy turned into something he had to be, he wanted to be, in order to feel loved.
The finale is arriving faster than expected.
And I'm not ready for the carnage.
Breaking Down by Florence + The Machine.
The blog for this story is lost hunger games . blogspot - all deaths will be notified here!
Arietta Fenton, District Six.
Joshua Kersey, District Eight.
All deaths will be based on realism, story arcs and whether or not the submitter is reading the story. Obviously, reviews let me know this, and if said submitter chooses to not review, I have no idea if they're reading the story, and therefore, am more inclined to keep other tributes over said submitter's tribute. Each decision is painstakingly hard but must be done. Everyone knew the odds when they created a character. I would hope you stick around, but if not, I understand.
Saige, Arietta was such an innocent teen in this environment. She slowly broke, but for now, this was the better option.
Chaos, I loved Joshua and you knew that. His poetic voice was something that captured me from the beginning. Even with his downfall, I could still sense the original boy in him. Great character.
I would love for you to answer a specific question I have for each chapter!
Who do you want and think will be in the final five?
If there was one character you could bring back from the dead to be in the finale, who would you choose and why?
And, of course, a general review on my writing? It's invaluable!
This chapter has been longer than the recent ones, so woo! I had to wrap up a lot of loose ends, so it was needed.
And now our final six is announced! Gloria, Lancel, Cres, Ellery, Rafe and Rotem. Who actually expected them to be here?
Slenderman is dead! Gloria killed him! :o
Not much to say. Two more Games chapters, and the final three will be known! We're almost over and I'm super excited by that!
