The High Road.
There's times I stayed alive for you. There's times I would've died for you.
Gloria Lavelle, District One Female.
My first ever kill - at least one I made and corrected - was a Mutt. The invincible, terrifying Mutt that stalked me and, as far as I know, paralyzed one of my legs.
It takes a moment for the chaos to truly die down. At least enough to make me feel comfortable. I slide myself off the crate, falling hard on the floor. A sharp blade of pain cuts my thigh and stops my hip, making me physically sick to my stomach.
I can't hold on much longer. I'm a goner, and I already know it. Unless Aphrodite sends me something, though a cure for poisonous claws probably doesn't exist.
Cres slowly makes his way back towards me, his face pale.
"What?" I quickly ask. I'd rather there not be a duplicate... I don't think I'd live to see that one die as well...
"Nothing," he shakes his head, looking out of place. His mid-life crisis has really hit him hard. It's ironic; I never imagined Cres to be so emotional underneath that thick layer of brooding masculinity. He was kind, but never the type to blurt out his feelings. He still hasn't; but he's definitely changed. For the better or worse is up to him. "With that dead, we're ready," he answers quietly. "They'll be here soon."
I keep the knife tucked underneath my good leg. Just in case, I keep telling myself, despite a disgusting feeling that the first ever kill I'm going to make properly, will be the boy who not only spared me, but is sugary sweet nowadays. It would've been easier to kill him by accident long ago... now I'm going to be eaten alive because when I look at him, I don't see a Career, I see a boy. Cres Rhodes. Too kind for his own good.
"Are you having cold feet?" I look at him intensely, hoping to gain an answer. Maybe he'll attack me and I can call it self-defense? Maybe that's wishing too much.
He doesn't answer for a while. I can practically see the gears and confliction crossing his face hastily. "No," he mumbles. "Just nervous."
"What is there to be nervous about?" I poke further.
He laughs bitterly. "It's hard to explain."
I frown; what's that suppose to mean? I move awkwardly on the floor, until I'm close enough to him to pat the ground. "I'm not going anywhere. And you did save my life from that... that thing," I swallow thickly. I'm not really good at this. "I at least owe you an ear to listen."
It doesn't take him long to fall down onto his knees, his mask cracking in two, emotions sweeping his face. "There's Rafe," he blurts out. "He's one of the youngest left. No, he is the youngest. Three years younger than me... he reminds me t-too much of my little brother, Cadmus," he continues. "And then Ellery. A-And as far as I know, she could be just as i-innocent and kind," by now, tears are pricking at his eyes, ready to spill. "And L-Lancel is a douche, but he's got a family. And Rotem... she s-s-seemed really cool when I saw her in training."
There's a tense pause.
"I don't think I can do this," he finishes quietly, bowing his head. "I don't think I can kill them. But I want to see my brother again... to tell him not to do this."
I swallow thickly again. I never knew he had a younger brother. Then again, Cres hasn't spoken about his life at all. Austal might've known, but to the rest of us, Cres was by himself.
I don't how to reply. Each thing I think of dies on my tongue. I've never been one to get too emotional over family because... because I'm not exactly that close with mine. I've never seen the appeal of a younger sibling because my ones are older, and a lot more annoying and less cute than a little one.
"Your brother wants to volunteer?" I manage to say, and inside, I berate myself for not helping him more. There's a certain innocence to Cres that weakens me, and reminds me that he is, after all, a human with emotions.
"He wants to be like me. He calls me his idol," he whispers. "He'll do anything I do. If I don't win, then Cadmus... C-Cadmus will come in here to prove a point."
I steady my breathing, another bolt of pain making me sick. "I-Is that why you volunteered?"
He smiles bitterly. "One of the many reasons," he looks up, eyes glossy. "Why did you do it?"
My eyes widen. In comparison, my reason is stupid. Cres volunteered to spare his brother doing it. I did it to, well, spite my own sibling. Two reasons that are vastly different. So, I have to lie. "The usual suspects." I smile falsely.
"Guess we were both a little bit delusional to think we could do this," he laughs again, a little bit of life falling into place. "I never expected it to be so... demanding."
It's true. Kingston Academy portrays the wealth and lifestyle you'd lead for winning, even the trying attitude you'd have to face to make it through training to even get the invite. They never physically show you soul-crushing it can be. The Victors should have remote ideas. Aphrodite... I always looked up to her. Strong, independent, a lively character who would forever be remembered for breaking District One's stereotype with her hammer.
She didn't even help me. She doesn't now, not when I'm basically losing my life to a Mutt!
Deep in my mind, a shallow part of me thumps. It's because I'm a failure. Because I couldn't make a single kill on purpose... it was always by accident.
I aimed for Lakyn and got Lyra. I aimed for Rotem and got Austal.
Now, the opportunity is right in front of me, and I can't commit. I could kill Cres easily. No-one in the way, no chaos to swerve around. And yet, my fingers won't move, my brain won't cooperate, my heart... my heart can only feel pity and admiration towards him. And I hate it. I hate it because it makes me feel even more weaker than I already do! Cres stands there and he can turn around and say 'I did this because I wanted to save my brother' whereas I can only turn and say 'Yeah, spite and that drove me to it'.
"Yeah," I flash a brief smile. "Who would've thought it..."
Silence passes by. Minute after minute, Cres busies himself with whatever he can. He searches for a clean sword to fight with, eats a ton of crackers, and methodically checks the perimeter of the Cornucopia every other time. Me? I lay in pain... the sweat constantly builds on my forehead, and I have to swipe it away. I feel so sick, so angry, so tired. I could just close my eyes and fall asleep...
"Gloria!"
I snap out of it. Cres stands over, his face full of panic. "...what?" I croak. When did my tongue get so furry and thick? It feels too heavy for my own mouth.
"You passed out," he frets. "Here, take some water," he lowers the bottle to my lips and I gulp greedily. I don't even care that most of it splashes over the black uniform. "Gloria, I need to do it."
My fingers instinctively reach for the knife underneath my thigh. They don't quite make it as Cres stands up.
"I need to find them. Lancel and Rotem. T-They're our biggest competitors... if they come here, they might k-kill you," I open my mouth to protest, but he shakes his head. "You can't throw those knives anymore. You're getting weaker. I-If I just move around the edges of the hallways, I might find them before they get here... I could kill before they reach the feast."
I'm not going to deny that. I hate it, but it's the truth. I can feel myself slowly slipping away. Maybe Cres doesn't want to face me dying, or maybe he's sparing himself the guilt of not being able to save me. Either way, I don't argue. I don't have the energy to argue. If he wants to slaughter them, then he can. And it's true. Cres could easily swipe them down before they get here. They would expect him at the Cornucopia, not searching the hallways for them.
It's a good plan. A plan that I can't seem to think badly of. In the end, I nod weakly.
"Here," he hands me the rest of his crackers, a sliver of beef jerky, and the bottle of water. "Keep your strengths up. I'll be back once I've killed them..." he answers lowly, and like that, he fades from the golden horn.
I'm suddenly all alone. I try to reach for the knife once more, but there's no energy in me to do so.
I lay back, the darkness moving slowly over my vision. I have to stay alive. I have to.
I can't lose now...
Lancel Deimos, District One Male.
"Can we even get there?" Rotem mentions again, just as we turn the corner. Another dead end. We seem to be finding them a lot actually.
I can feel the nervous energy rushing through me. I keep expecting to run into the Mutt, or even Ellery Haynes or Rafe Corinthos. I know my opponents. I can tell their weaknesses if I saw them in person... but I don't want to. Not now, not when I can't guess my own movements. Will I fight to kill, or maim, or seriously harm? I can't work it out. I know what I am - a Career and proud - but that doesn't mean I'm looking forward to murdering them all, or watching them die.
Particularly Rotem... her more than anyone.
I have to get home to Harley. Everything would've been for nothing if I don't win for her. She's the reason I entered, I killed, I lost and then found myself. It was all for her. My love. To finally have the life of our own that we've always dreamed of.
I guess this was more than I expected.
Then again, I didn't think I'd get so attached to Rotem. There's something so... so pure about her, the way she seems oblivious to the world around her, yet fights. She's a better person than me. Even when I threw the guilt of Thorn's death in her face, she took it, and stayed by my side, even when I didn't deserve it.
We keep walking slowly, our boots crunching against the pebbles.
I grip the knife harder. Earlier, I lost my flails trying to flee a falling piece of glass, and now, I'm left with a limited weapon. It'll affect me... it'll affect Rotem, too, because in a fight, I can't be my best.
Oh! I slide the small pill from my pocket, dry swallowing it. I definitely don't need any more hindrances. Maybe... maybe the thing I need is my medication. It'd make sense. I mean, it's probably the one thing I'm keeping at bay at the moment, but soon my pills will be gone. I'll have nothing to protect me from the epilepsy. Let's hope that Aphrodite hasn't let Swift ruin my chances.
"Do you think the others will be there?" Rotem asks.
I shrug as we turn the corner. "Maybe. I wouldn't put it past Gloria or Cres. They probably have it all secured," I take a deep breath. "It won't be easy."
There's a tight pause, before Rotem sighs. "I never expected it to be. But, we came to fight... didn't we?"
"We did. The finale is soon. We're so close, Rotem, just literally on the edge of the field. I can feel it in my gut," I proudly say as the next corner reveals a long, narrow hallway, the golden glimmer shining in the distance. "And there it is!"
We pick up our walking quickly. I make sure the knife is prepared - I know what Gloria is like, and that's tenacious. She wouldn't just sit out of a fight. She's probably waiting for us right now.
I barely take notice of the small shards of glass on the floor, before a hulking fist is flying out of the mirror.
I brace myself as it collides, sending me reeling into the other wall with a crunch. The back of my head instantly thumps, a dull ache crossing over my brain instantly. I blink away the stars, just to see Cres leap through the parted mirrors - like the trick they were - and raise his sword. His face is slightly battered and withdrawn, but for all purposes, Cres is still an opponent and looks just as deadly... if not more.
This blade comes down. I close my eyes - waiting for the strike - before metal clashes together.
Rotem is there with her own knife, long and curved. It's something she picked up a while back, after the fight that lost Thorn and Austal. She's sloppy with her movements, and Cres overpowers her easily, flinging her to the side.
"Lancel!" her scream pierces the air.
...but it's not Rotem...
"Harley?" I echo my thoughts. It's her voice I hear. Calling to me from somewhere. Is it a trick? Am I losing the plot? No, no, but it's Harley and it's... it's as real as I remember.
Cres stabs forward with his sword. I avoid the deadly blow, shuffling awkwardly towards my own abandoned knife. Rotem tries to run at his once more, but he easily bats her side aside like she's nothing. She cracks her head against the mirror, and falls limp against the floor. I manage to lunge forward with my own knife, planting it into Cres' leg and causing him to scream in agony, but Cres stabs again. The silver goes straight through my hand. I howl, pain... pain I've never felt before.
Blood pools from underneath, the hot metal working it's way through my veins and tendons, destroying everything in its path. I would scream, but there's nothing left in my throat. I've ran out of emotions, of pain, of... of tears. Cres seems paralyzed with fear. He just... stands there, his sword raised.
Over his shoulder, I see Rotem move. Her knife is aimed readily, and she lunges towards him, tip aiming for his back.
But she forgets the mirror. The mirror that lets Cres see what she's up to.
Cres spins around smoothly. In mid-air, he catches Rotem by her wrist, and flings her towards me with such momentum, she can't control it...
She can't stop now...
She doesn't move the knife away in time. Her eyes widen as it slides into the soft tissue of my stomach.
I let out a hoarse cry, desperation flooding my veins. I can't... I can't...
Her hands shake violently as she lets go, falling back on her heels. Cres towers from behind but doesn't make a move to silence. Politely, he steps back, nodding tight. He's allowing her one last time. One last time to say goodbye or something. Because... because it's the end for me...
I feel the tears prick at my eyes, sliding down with ease. My breath comes out shallow. It feels like my insides are burning, ripping apart and bleeding out. I can't... the pain...
"D-Do it," I say, taking her hand shakily and putting it back over the knife. Our eyes meet. She knows what to do, what needs to be done. I don't want to die like this. Weak, crying, bleeding out on the floor by accident. I want it quick and simple. I... I don't want to suffer anymore. I don't want to be trapped and torn between two things. Career or not. Life or death. "...please."
Rotem hesitates for a second. But, I can't afford it... not now. I clamp my hand over hers with what little strength I have, and force the blade in further.
I failed you, Harley, but I tried... I tried so very hard to do right by you... by everyone...
The pain consumes me. Blackness takes my vision and I slip away into the comfortable embrace.
Rotem Everly, District Seven Female.
The blood spills over my fingers and palm, etching itself into my skin. I'll forever be stained with Lancel's blood.
"L-Lancel," I choke, plucking the knife from his chest and tossing it aside. A gush of blood escapes his chest, but I quickly try and block it up. "No, n-no, Lancel! Y-You can't die on me! L-Lancel!"
But the blood just flows over my desperate, shaking fingers. I... I can't save him. I can't save him. But Lanc-
A cannon sounds. Lancel falls limp in my grip, a sad smile on his corpse. For a moment, I just stare, unable to comprehend anything. I don't even move my hands. I just expect him to wake up anyway, to make me jump out of my skin because... because he's alive and he's not dead and he's just playing possum, like Bench would say when I was avoiding my Mom and... and he's not dead, no, he's not dead!
I never expected this. I was always nervous around Lancel, particularly when he drove us into a suicide mission. Then Thorn suffered, and then the guilt was thrown towards me instead. I was never... attached to him. But then he became sweet, and just as I thought I felt truly comfortable with him, he... he's dead.
Not to mention the kiss! I graze my fingers over my cheek, remembering the small gesture of our confusing friendship, if you could call it that.
"I'm sorry," Cres speaks up. My blood turns cold, and I look at him over my shoulder. He done this. He forced me to kill Lancel, by throwing me into him... "I never wanted him to suffer."
Fury flares up inside of me. "You stabbed him through the hand! That's just sadistic!"
His face tightens. "I was playing defensive."
"You attacked us," I hiss. My eyes flicker between his obviously bigger form, to the bloody knife near his feet... Lancel's blood... "You don't deserve to live," I grow quiet. "You... you should be dead, not... not Lancel..."
I swallow thickly. My fingers are slick, and I have to pry them from the knife wound in Lancel's chest. I feel disgusted. My whole body is either fighting with anger I never knew I had, or sickness because he's dead and I couldn't save him. It was like Thorn again... I could try so helplessly, but it would be helpless. I've lost them both and... and I couldn't save either of them...
"It wasn't your fault. B-Blame me if you want." Cres continues, each word penetrating my brain. I should blame him, because he pushed me into it...
But what should I do? I've never been one to fight. Lancel has always led me into it. I... I always had back-up.
I look at Cres again. Why hasn't he killed me? It would've been easier, I think bitterly. Maybe he truly does guilty. Maybe he's human after all, even if Lancel told us they weren't. I've never had anything personally against any of them. But now, I do. I have a reason to hate them, to hate Cres. Is it stupid? I can't decide. I turn around slowly, Cres still just standing there. His sword is stained with the blood of the people he's killed. Does he want to put me on there too?
"I'm not going to kill you," he suddenly says. My eyes drift up towards him, his eyes an unusual dull colour. I don't remember them like that? I'm sure they used to be blue. They look more grey now, like the colour has been sucked from them. He swallows, lump bobbing in his throat. "At least not unfairly."
I blink a few times. So nice of him.
"Take your knife," he kicks it across the pebbles, leaving a small, red trail. "I don't want to kill you when you're unarmed. It's not right."
"Killing isn't right in any sense." I whisper back to him, keeping my stained hands against my chest.
The anthem blares, causing my heart to skip a beat. I stare at the mirror next to Cres, watching the shadows creep on the glass with fluid movements.
I'm not ready for this... not yet, not this soon...
The shadows play out the scene. Of me, Lancel, and Cres fighting, Cres easily overpowering everyone around him. And then it changes. I watch with wide eyes as it shows me... but not me... killing Lancel brutally with a smile on my face.
It didn't happen like that! People are going to think I killed him willingly!
I can't stop myself from crying. No, they won't think I did it on purpose. The citizens know better. They saw it personally, not some twisted version that the Gamemakers made. I shake my head vehemently. It's not true, it's not true, it's not true.
I don't think. I grab the knife, rock onto my feet, and look Cres down. A sad smile appears on his face, just as I rush forward, blinding by tears and anger.
The High Road by Three Days Grace.
The blog for this story is lost hunger games . blogspot - all deaths will be notified here!
Lancel Deimos, District One.
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.
Sam, I really connected with Lancel and his struggle to not be the person he was destined to be. He was a great character, but sadly, I think his time was running out.
I would love for you to answer a specific question I have for each chapter!
Who would you like to see in the final three, and who do you think will end up there?
And, of course, a general review on my writing? It's invaluable!
We have two more chapters left of being in the arena, and then one more with our Victor! Who is going to take that crown?
So many people don't know this, but before I started writing any stories in this fandom, I was a fangirl to the wonderful Becca. With her courage and dedication, I started my very first SYOT full of nerves and anxiety. I never would've gotten this far if she never helped me take that first step. The girl who was the first person to ever use blogs for character profiles. The first person to ever use lyrics and music to describe chapters. Me? I simply asked to use her original ideas, because she was my idol.
And guess what? SHE'S BACK FROM RETIREMENT WITH A NEW STORY.
I think you should head on over to her profile - BeccaJoy - and give her some love, read/review, PM her, just anything. Welcome her back with open arms.
