God and Satan.

I talk to God as much as I talk Satan, cause I want to hear both sides.


Rafe Corinthos, District Six Male.


My head thuds as I stir on the ground. It vibrates, hums, twisting and turning behind eyeballs. It's like someone is trying to take a knife to the nerves behind them. I whimper, the small shards of glass cutting into my skin and uniform, feeling the wet stick of my blood underneath my body.

Another glass pane falls nearby, shattering against the ground. I manage to peel my eyes open, only to see the sight of glass literally every inch of the ground, smothering the pebbles. The floor is just as dangerous as the opponents now. I move, the sharp pain burning against my back, and push myself to sit up.

Rotem and Ellery lay nearby, both down for the count. Neither one moves or stirs, and for a brief moment, I realise that I could easily win this if I move fast. I could slice and kill in their sleep, and with that, I'd win. It was never my goal to do so but now... now the end is in sight, and it's more appealing than I first imagined it would be. I want to go home, to see Dinah and sing once more, or to see my sister, Thalia, and make peace with not seeing her for years. I'd even give anything to see my Mother, and force her away from her addiction.

I'd do it all. I look back, trying to work my reasoning for volunteering, but it's since long lost. I can't justify why I did it; I can only call stupidity and recklessness, to enter a place where the trust I had in people was well and truly broken.

Ellery begins to stir. My heart freezes, and I push myself back against the shattered wall.

"Wow," she mumbles, rubbing her head. A pool of blood lays thick at her feet, small shards of glass floating in the puddle. Her eyes flick to me, and for a moment, I see guilt or remorse. "I don't want this, if that makes it sound any better."

My voice falls quiet. "It doesn't."

As she moves her leg, she hisses, obviously in pain. A bitter taste floods my mouth when I realise the advantage I'm at; it shouldn't be hard, surely... but then again, I've never, ever thought I've had it. I barely survived Joshua, and Gloria could've easily put me down like an injured dog if she had better aim. I've barely survived each time. Pure luck, that's all it has ever been.

I don't think. I can't afford to; I push the guilt and fear and the urge to violently shake down into my stomach, down where it can't surface. I keep the small, stubbed knife in my hand, and run at Ellery, careful not to look her in the eyes as I prepare to kill again.

Ellery angrily jumps to her feet, using the table for support. As I push my knife through the air sloppily - not really thinking, just acting - Ellery counters with her own machete, the metallic clash of our weapons bouncing around the room.

I'm not ready for this. I... I don't want to do this again...!

Ellery overpowers me, pushing down with the machete so hard, the knife falls from my hand. I stagger backwards as she cuts out again, just barely missing my skin. I can feel the blood running through my veins turn cold as it all becomes clear. I try to shift my weight into an attacking stance, but the floor moves under my feet - the glass making it near impossible to stand properly - and I skid to the side sloppily. Ellery takes the moment and attacks with gusto. I barely move her next swipe, the machete taking a chunk out of my arm. I scream, my throat ripping itself open at the agony that creeps through my veins.

The floor moves again, and I fall. The wind is knocked from my lungs as I land on my back, and Ellery looms over me, blood dripping ominously from her machete. She doesn't smile. She doesn't even sneer. Her face is expressionless, tightened, almost like she's trying to imagine me as someone else, just to ease her conscience.

Her machete falls with such speed, it almost turns into a passing blur.

But then Ellery suddenly flies out of my vision.

My eyes widen, and when I look, I realise that Rotem is no longer on the ground. I hear the grunts as Ellery delivers a cruel punch to Rotem's jaw, who rolls over her. Rotem tries to fight back, but it's clear that Ellery has the upper hand. Rotem is not only weaponless, but she's also more wary... not to mention she spared me. Well, saved me, but it's a matter of fact that she'll still have to kill me at the very least. A sour taste floods my tongue as I realise that I could just let them fight each other to the death, and then stab them both in the back.

The old Rafe would never have done that. But the old Rafe didn't witness his ally get murdered, his district partner following suit, before having to take down the boy he called his friend. He didn't kill a Career through perfect cruelty either. No, he was pleasant, playing his music whilst his abandoned Mother rotted away in a home.

I'm beginning to realise that old Rafe and new Rafe could be the same person, with different reasons.

It hits me; old Rafe isn't much different to new Rafe. I pull myself to my feet. Rotem manages to disarm Ellery for a split second, before Ellery is able to pull back the power.

She saved me, it's time to save her.

I don't think, I just run. I power my legs and arms towards them, and when I near, I shout angrily. Rotem looks up and Ellery is about to flip her over, and pin her to the ground. I lower myself down and prepare to tackle Ellery down, when... when her hand quickly reaches for the nearby machete.

It happens so fast. The machete comes into view - Ellery looks over her shoulder - before flicking her wrist and allowing the weapon to spiral towards me.

I can't stop myself.

But, then again, a deep rooted part of me doesn't want to stop. That deep rooted part of me keeps me going until the blade implants itself within my chest. The world pitches forward and blackness consumes whatever light I can see. And when I hear my own cannon resound in the air, I realise how beautiful the silence sounds.


Rotem Everly, District Seven Female.


Rafe Corinthos hits the floor with a muffled thud, the machete lodged in his chest. A few seconds - or what seems like minutes - and his cannon fires.

The tension consumes me, and Ellery, whose eyes seem fixated on Rafe, even though she's still on top of me. No-one moves. We're opponents, and yet, I don't feel so scared of her at this very moment. The brief moment where she's realised that she just killed an innocent boy. It's where I finally realise that we're both desperate, and whilst she's more cut-throat, it's only her way of fighting.

But I need my way... I need to do this, otherwise... Mother, I'm coming.

I push all of my weight into my arms and, whilst Ellery is open, I shove her off of me. She flies to the side, dazed and confused. I move swiftly to grab her machete, despite my gut screaming in both agony and guilt. Despite the purple medicine working wonders, I can still feel it bubbling underneath my flesh. That, and the fact that the medicine came for Cres... and I stole it. I had no idea what is was, but it must've been for Cres' wounds. Silently, I thank his mentors once more, even though the gift was never being for me. That accidentally saved me.

I throw myself towards Ellery, her machete in my hand. Her eyes widen, and she manages to duck a little, but the blade cuts through her shoulder and she screams. The noise makes me freeze on the spot. It makes my blood run cold, an unfamiliar noise at my hands. Cres never screamed like this... at least, I don't remember he did. I was blinded by fury with Lancel's death heavily weighing on my mind.

I swallow thickly, staggering backwards. Ellery spits out the blood, her eyes squeezed shut in pain. It was different killing Cres; I had motivation, and a reason. I don't with Ellery, not really.

The words stumble over my lips. "I-I'm s-s-s-"

My failing words are toppled over by something. In the distance, something crashes, followed by another. I move backwards, keeping my aching fingers clenched around the machete.

One by one, the mirrored ceiling panes over me begin to loosen, until one falls. I scream and throw myself towards the golden table, barely missing the ominous shatter that only adds more glass on the battlefield. But that's not everything. One by one, the ceiling opens up, revealing black holes that seem to cover every inch above us. I briefly meet Ellery's eyes, before we both look up as the first tendril of white smoke seems to creep out.

My mouth falls open. Another follows, and another, until it looks like a bunch of worms climbing out of their burrows, snaking through the air.

"This way," Ellery speaks, her voice shaky. I meet her eyes once more, realising that she's standing. She looks at me more hauntingly, eyes narrowed. "If you want to live... follow me..."

Why should I trust her? My gut tells me not to. I feel pity towards Ellery - for attacking her twice mainly - but at the same time, something is warming about her words, the way they seem truthful. Bench always said that I was too trusting of others... but we have a common enemy here. And I have her weapon, which puts me at an advantage.

A tendril of smoke reaches the floor. Just then, a scream pierces the air, but it's not human. It's a guttural, animalistic sound, throaty and raw. I rush to clamp my hands over my ears, feeling them become wet with blood. My heart begins to thump dramatically, banging against my chest and then repeating in my stinging ears. I scream, as more of the whispers touch the ground, continuing the sound like a pack of animals.

I feel a cold hand clamp around my wrist, and snap my eyes open. Ellery looks at me sternly, before angrily pushing me backwards. I stumble over the glass - preparing to fight, as much as I don't want to - until I realise that she's pushing me towards the hallway. I spin around and run, hoping that Ellery will follow me. Part of me doesn't want to lose track of her for the purpose of being the final competitors, but another part... another part wants to at least owe her the gratitude of sparing me when she didn't have to.

I hear a hiss, and almost run straight into the dead end.

"We're trapped!" I shout, hearing the animal sounds echoing from down the hall. I turn around, Ellery's eyes hollow and fearful. Confusion clouds my panic, and I tilt my head. "Ellery?"

Her lips begin to quiver and her posture turns rigid. From her ear to her chin, blood curls freely. She... she doesn't look the same. And it only makes me freak out more. I step forward and shake her desperately, only to see the snake of white slithering through the air, aiming straight towards us.

I could leave her. I could leave her to die, and that would be it. I would win and, I mean, I could try to cope with the guilt... I'd always have Mother and Bench, no matter what. But is that an excuse to take someone down when they're like this? I can feel the two sides of me splitting, torn between the right and wrong actions, and even then, they're mixed up. Selfish, or selfless? I remember that Maple said that no nice person ever wins the Hunger Games, and that means doing whatever is necessary, no matter how wrong or dirty.

I pull my hand back and bring it across Ellery's face in an instant, just as the tendril eases towards her oozing shoulder. Ellery jerks awake, cheeks stained with her tears. I yank her towards me before the tendril screams at us once more. I can feel the blood build in my ears, but even through that, I can hear her words.

"I have to do this."


Ellery Haynes, District Five Female.


They did it to me again. Twice now. Twice they've trapped me, captured me in their web of nightmares and horrors, to mentally break me. Falling from high above, only to crash against rocks or spikes or even just the water underneath me. I always land, I always die... I always fall, and I always scream like a little child afraid of the monster in her closet.

But I won't be afraid no more. I won't allow them to do this to me again. They can't break me. I won't let them.

"I have to do this." I say aloud, before putting my hands on Rotem's shoulder and shoving her into the white tendril.

The white smoke whips around her face as she goes through it. A shrill screech pierces the air, Rotem's body shaking violently from the apparent pain that it produces. Sickness rises in my chest and I swallow it down, unable to look as the smoke seems to wrap itself around Rotem's body like a living thing, snaking into every crevice it can find. I hear Rotem cry over and over again, never ceasing, but never increasing. It's a steady flow of pleas and cries.

I shy my eyes away, but it doesn't shield it from my sight. I clamp my hands over my ears, but it doesn't stop the guilt to seep through my flesh and into my brain.

Then, it all just stops. I take a moment to pry myself from the mirror I've pushed myself up against, before turning around. Rotem's body lays crumpled on the floor in the fetal position, facing away from me. Maybe that's for the best. I didn't want to make friends nor enemies, I didn't even want to feel guilty, but she somehow managed to worm her way into my cold heart.

I step forward slowly, wary and confused. Her cannon hasn't fired, so I can only assume that she isn't dead. I catch a glint of light, encased in Rotem's fingers. Oh, and she still has my machete. But either way, she's not dead. My act of viciousness didn't kill her. Does that make me even worse? I only pushed her because... because I wanted it to stop... I didn't want to go through it again...

Rotem stirs. Gravel and shards of glass move as Rotem leans upwards, still not looking at me.

Great. I feel even more guilty now. I steady my shaking legs, edging away as Rotem turns around. Her eyes are bloodshot and wide, pale skin littered with purple bruises and pink marks. She looks like she's been battered thoroughly, or even ran over by a truck. And it only enhances the twinge of guilt in my chest, slowly suffocating me.

Her eyes turn accusing. "...why save me if you want to kill me?" she asks quietly, a swollen lip blocking her speech.

"It's what we're suppose to do," I steady, careful not to bite back too hard considering the circumstances. "It's in our job description as tributes. To kill, despite how much we want to cling to humanity."

Each word is true, and I've come to terms with it a long time ago, just after murdering Caritta. It's expected of us. If we don't do it right, we get fired, figuratively speaking.

Tears stream Rotem's face. "I won't give up easily," she whispers, voice still broken. "I... I-I won't just let you win."

I eye the machete carefully, still remembering that I lost my weapon to her. I never expected her to fall down easily, and for some reason, I manage to crack a sad smile. "I don't want you to."

Rotem screams and runs forward, slashing the air with wild movements. I stagger backwards, digging down deep to not let the pain in my shoulder overcome the actions of the present. It throbs and burns, tearing away at the carefully structured façade of strength I have placed. Rotem cuts the air and I duck underneath it, grabbing her other wrist and twisting it with as much strength as I can muster. Rotem screams, before bringing the machete in reverse. I try to move out the way, but the machete slams straight into my hip. Blood flies from my lips as I scream, being shoved away by Rotem's careless hands.

Her eyes meet mine. I expect to see a ruthless killer, but instead, I see warmth and life, the signs of a girl who wants to claim her life.

But can she see it in mine? I might not be as sickly sweet as her, but I want to win as much as the next person. I want to go home and pretend this never happened too. She thinks of me as the antagonist just because I'm her opponent, when in reality, I'm simply a person to overcome... and likewise for her.

I fall to the floor as the pain smothers my body. I clamp my hands over my hip, feeling the blood squelch through my fingers. My body begins to shake and my breathing hitches, each breath causing my lungs to burn. With my other hand, I claw at the ground away from her. She looks away, face turning pale from the sight of her kill.

No. No, I won't let this happen! I won't let her do this to me!

I dig deep once more to force myself onto my feet, grabbing a shard of glass at the last moment.

Rotem doesn't even see it coming. She's so concerned with not looking at me die that she doesn't realise that I won't go down easily, like she previously told me.

My boot crunches against glass. Rotem spins around, and I jab the shard of glass forwards. Before she can think, I impale her gut. With shaking hands, I twist it sloppily, feeling the life slip from Rotem's body. Blood smothers my already stained hands, flooding between my fingers. For what seems like ever, she finally crumples and loses strength, falling onto my arm. I'm barely able to hold her weight as I continue to twist, going all the way around.

I rip the shard out as her cannon sounds. Rotem falls backwards, eyes lifeless, open, and accusing.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the Victor of the One Hundred and Twentieth Hunger Games, Ellery Haynes! I give up - the tribute of District Five!"

The pain takes over and I fall onto my knees, before landing on my back. Blackness curls at the edges of my vision before smothering it entirely. It feels like I can't breathe, but I'm almost sure that's the point.

A single white, piercing light breaks the confusion, but it's too late.

I slip away into the darkness, and my cannon resounds in the air as well.


God and Satan by Biffy Clyro.


The blog for this story is lost hunger games . blogspot - all deaths will be notified here!

Rafe Corinthos, District Six.

Rotem Everly, District Seven.

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.

Meg, I loved Rafe and for everything he stood for, he went out pretty much the same guy. It was a pleasure to write a musician!

Emmy, Rotem was a favourite of mine and whilst incredibly complex and hard to nail down, I hope I did her enough justice.


If you could, a review on these questions would make my day:

-Who you thought would win Lost, at any point?

-Your favourite character (despite your own, and no matter their final placement)?

-Are you happy with who won (going by realism and favouritism)?

-The most shocking death of this story, to you?

-The most jaw-dropping moment (or, in other words, the scene that captured you the most)?

-Your favourite chapter?


No-one will probably like the fact that Ellery won, but I hope you can appreciate the reasons. Ellery was the least mentally affected, and for a while, I've pinned my hopes on her. She might not have developed as much as the others, but I think there's irony in that - in a psychological arena, the person who developed the least happened to have the strongest sanity left.

Ellery was never an antagonist, just more... selfish, but never evil or anything.

So yeah. I just ask that you see this from my view. This story has been nothing but complications, trouble, disaster after disaster and a lack of confidence. I tried my best with what I could. And, from that, Ellery always managed to stay rooted as the least problematic for me.

Next is the epilogue, alongside the obituaries on the blog. Oh, and yes, Ellery has died. But wait to see what happens, aye?

Lastly, a huge congratulations to Sgarnett99 (Audrey) for her tribute's win against all odds!