Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games or the song lyrics.

Alright, I thought it would be cool to post a couple pictures that sort of inspired the arena. I also have a few for the tribute outfits, too. I kind of like the idea of Victorian horror being mixed into the storyline, so the outfits are more or less based off of that time period—I sort of feel mean for doing that to the characters, but oh well.

Here are the links (just replace the dots with actual periods and remove the spaces):

wwwDOTcosplaybuyDOTcom /images/ cosplay-costume/ marie-antoinette-victorian-blue-dress-ball-gown-prom-1. jpg

cdnDOTbuzznetDOTcom /media/ jjr/ headlines /2011/ 11 /daniel-radcliffe-wib-still. jpg

staticDOTdesktopnexusDOTcom / thumbnails / 183472-bigthumbnail .jpg

And I'll definitely put up a death list. Thanks for the suggestion!

~The Games, Part l~

Some feel I bare the mark of man
A misguided philosophy
Some feel I kill for fun
I kill for life!

~Slipknot, Some Feel~

District 5: Autumn Coville

I see everything.

I see the District 2 girl steal away in the middle of the night, half of the Careers necessities in hand. I see the faces in the sky, and I don't know what to think about it. I'm not cruel enough to celebrate the deaths of those kids, but I not really sad over them either.

I shake my head, chewing on a piece of moss—one of the only edible things I've come across in this shit hole.

Moments later, two of the male Careers walk back into camp, angry expressions on their faces.

"That was a waste of two hours," The District 1 boy mutters, more to himself than the guy next to him.

District 2 sighs, "It's that Angelina girl, she's bringing us all down."

"You've got that right."

"She's bad mojo," Adrian continues, "she's going to ruin everything."

Scout doesn't respond. Instead, his eyes wander over the Career camp slowly, taking in every inch of the deadness around him. I stay statue-still, holding my breath. I have a pretty good hiding spot, but I can't risk being heard for anything.

"Where's Mercy?" he asks quietly, and Adrian shrugs his shoulders.

"How should I know? I was with you, dude."

District 1 nods, walking over to his ally's sleeping form, kicks him in the back.

The District 4 boy bolts upright, gasping and clutching his knife. "What? Wh-who's there?"

Scout smirks, eyes glinting with heavily suppressed anger. "Not Mercy," he says, and I can hear the rage in his voice.

"What?"

"You heard me."

Cameron finally starts to understand what Scout is saying, thank God. I was starting to think that the Career was too stupid to function—just like everybody who lives in the Capitol.

"She's not here?" he asks, rubbing his eyes.

And it's gone.

Scout taps his foot on the barren ground, a twig crunches beneath his boot. "No, and you were the only other one here, so enlighten us. Where the fuck is she?"

"Who do you think you're talking to, bud—"

"You," Scout says coldly. "She's gone—and so is half of our crap."

Cameron's eye twitches. He's a person with anger management issues, I can tell. This will turn into a fight soon, and I wonder who will come out alive. This makes me feel smug, I eat some more moss and lean backwards against a tangle of withered branches. As far as dead crap goes, this tree is pretty damn nice, if I do say so myself.

And believe me, I do.

"Guys..." Adrian begins, but no one is listening to him. "I don't think we should be fighting..."

But it's too late.

The two idiots are already at each others throats. Unfortunately for District 4, Scout has the advantage. Cameron is still lying down, and he doesn't even do the smart thing, which I—having as little combat skills as I do—know. Instead of hitting the blue-eyed boy in the knees—or in the balls—an even smarter move if the opponent is Ransom, he lunges upward, trying to slash Scout's throat with his knife. The District 1 boy moves quickly, and a line of red appears on Cameron's neck in a matter of seconds.

His cannon fires.

"Scout!" Adrian whines, "did you have to do that?" he looks around nervously, like a bolt of lightening could strike him at any second.

"Yes. Did you see the way he looked at me? He was lying through his teeth, he let her get away."

He seems unconvinced. "Are you sure...?"

I want to listen to the rest of their conversation, but something stops me. I feel like I'm being watched by someone—or maybe even something.

I turn slowly to my left, and I'm startled by a huge pair of yellow eyes staring back at me. I have enough time to wonder if this is what others feel like when I look at them—bone-chillingly scared—before "The Thing" rushes at me and I tumble out of the tree.

District 3: Clint Manti

Why isn't this working?

I've tried every deep breathing exercise in the book and I still can't calm down long enough to come up with a plan. I haven't even decided on which direction I want to go in or which way is which or if north, south, east, and west really matter now.

And, to make matters worse, I'm starting to envy them—Emily especially, for her ability to live so freely, without worry. Whereas I can't even breathe normally without hiccuping. Come to think of it, I can't stop looking all around me either. Every sound, every little movement catches my attention and I can't help but think that there's something out to get me.

Go to your happy place, Clint. It will be okay.

I close my eyes and imagine my father reciting my list of responsibilities. I've always gotten over the bad things by feeling needed, like I absolutely had to do something for someone. And then the meditation helps with the overwhelmed feelings I sometimes get while babysitting my sister.

I start to walk then. Small steps going forward, sometimes I turn left—or maybe it's right—and I try to stop thinking of this place as an endless maze without any hope of an exit. I will get out of this God arena—I have to. For Lilly's sake, if my self-motivation fails. She'll end up pregnant and alone if I don't come back to her before she realizes what a jerk-face Trelix is.

As I'm thinking about this, I barely notice that my feet are moving—walking is automatic, almost a reflex, even though my heels are aching.

Smack!

I run face-first into a gnarled tree the size of one of the skyscrapers in the Capitol.

I put my hand to my nose and it comes back colored ruby-red. I think I might have broken a bone or something, because I swear I heard a cracking noise. Not that I can figure out much of anything with the pain in my head. I feel so dizzy... I place the bloody hand on the side of my head, trying to regain my equilibrium. My eyes wheel around in their sockets and I think I see a flash of white, but I can't really tell, what with double vision and all.

There it is again!

I blink, swivel to my left, and fall down in surprise when I see Ransom dart out from in between two trees. He's following that white thing like a crazy person. Well, both of the Ransoms are. I squeeze my eyes shut, standing up on shaky legs.

Maybe if I follow them I can figure out what the heck is going on...

I stumble and trip my way through the dead forest, keeping my eyes trained on the District 5 boy and the weird apparition, which resembles a very good-looking girl—no wonder he's chasing after her. In the three days I've known him, I have figured out that he is the biggest one of them there is.

Finally, the ghost girl stops in front of a run-down house. The shutters are falling off and the porch is just a rotten plank of wood with stairs jutting off of it. The paint is peeling, and I think it must have been a pretty orange color at some point. The girl manages to run up the steps without getting hurt, turns around, beckons to the now one-Ransom, and rushes inside.

He doesn't hesitate to go after her, the dummy.

I should just turn around, walk away now, but I know I can't. There's something urging me to enter the house, too, but I don't know what. I simply know that I'm going to ignore the feeling in the pit of my stomach and go inside.

I have to.

I flinch when the stairs creak under the pressure of my weight, an action that gives me a spasm of pain on my nose. The faded red door makes the same noise when I open it, but I don't react—changing facial expressions hurt too much.

It becomes clear that there isn't a single source of electricity in this house. The only light comes through the crack in the open door, which I don't plan on shutting. I leave my post by the entryway and go looking for Ransom in the adjacent room. It's some sort of living room, I think. A big couch is pushed up against the wall, and a wooden table sits in front of it. Both pieces of furniture are covered in spider webs. Actually, the entire room is like a breeding ground for spiders, cobwebs hang from peeling sections of green wallpaper and in the corners of the ceiling.

"Ransom," I whisper, "where are you guys?"

I'm surprised by how immediate his response is. "Over here, by the clock."

Sure enough, there he is. Messy hair and generally perverted nature and all, standing by a huge grandfather clock.

"Who was that girl?" I ask, standing next to him.

He scratches his head. "I don't know yet, but believe me, I will soon."

"Ransom..." I start. I want to tell him that he is a total idiot, that I'm leaving and he won't even get the chance to be alone with this girl because she'll kill him in a millisecond.

But I can't.

The front door slams shut and we both jump ten feet in the air. And, of course I could be mistaken, but I think I hear it lock.

Man. Now I can't see. The room is pitch-black and I don't even remember how far away from the door I am. Is there another exit anywhere? Some other room with a lamp?

My thoughts are interrupted by the creepiest thing yet.

A woman-like voice. "Hello boys,"

And then I hit the floor with a loud thump.

District 4: Fawn Nolan

The District 9 girl hadn't been that hard to find.

She was walking over a bunch of logs when Angelina jumped in front of her, trademark grin on her pale face.

Almandine and I followed suit, but only after the newest Career got confirmation from her. I rolled my eyes when she wasn't looking and considered sending a bullet from the gun Angelina gave me into her back, but I knew I'd miss and end up hurting myself in the process. I finally decided to follow her when I saw her back disappearing behind some of the trees.

I noticed the weakness Angelina left open the second I saw the scene.

If Fern was armed, she could easily take Angelina down if she hit Angelina in the left side, which was the hand that wasn't holding a weapon, with a throwing knife or something.

I rolled my eyes and went over to them, ready to cover their slack.

"Flower," the District 1 girl greeted, smiling like a maniac. "Nice to see you again."

Silence followed. The girl shook her head, gray eyes narrowed.

Angelina turned to Almandine. "Isn't it, Mandy?"

"Yup." Almandine said, though she probably hated her nickname. "It is. Let's catch up."

And then three things happened almost at the exact same time.

First, Angelina nodded to Almandine. Second, Almandine took her sword from its sheath. And third, Angelina grabbed her by the arm, eyes flickering silently.

"Let her go," she told Almandine. "For now, at least."

"What! Why?"

"I changed my mind. And anyway, she has like, nothing I want," Angelina planted her hands on her hips and sighed.

"But you said that—"

"I know what I said, find someone else to kill."

The six girl grumbled under her breath. "Fine."

And then she raised her sword to me.

I knew what was going to happen next, but I moved away a little too late. Her weapon dug into my side like a thorn, though thorns most likely hurt less than that. And I dropped to the ground, screaming and crying like a banshee.

Which brings me to this point.

The pain is terrible.

I can't even breath without screaming, and my eyes are far too numb to shed tears anymore, I can't even remember how long I've been here, though the girl hasn't left me since those traitors ran away. She watches me carefully, not saying anything. She does look through that little brown bag of hers, though. Fern—not Flower, like Angelina called her—pulls two band-aids from a small compartment, giving me one of her sad frowns.

"These won't help you," she says.

I manage a quiet "No."

She hands them to me anyway. "Sorry, it's all I have."

"Keep them, then." I push her hand away and wince. "I'm going to die anyway, so you might as well have them." I'm going to end up like my sister and brother... dead and gone, and it's kind of scary.

"Right." she is starting to look a little uncomfortable.

"Do you think it's like a dream?" I ask her, my voice strained.

Her face falls completely. She looks away from me, but I think I hear her say, sure.

Good, I think and I close my eyes one last time.

Sorry this chapter is shorter, but I have a lot of stuff planned for the next chapter, so everything will start to come together. Anyway... here's the death list as of now, including the bloodbath.

The Dead:

District 9: Kale Anson

District 10: Max Bane

District 11: Bengal

District 12: Clara Hellebore

District 4: Cameron Knight

District 4: Fawn Nolan

I hated having to kill these tributes off, but it was their time to go. Oh, and I'm giving each alliance a horror movie for them to be a part of, so basically, the Gamemaker traps and Mutts will deal with whatever movie they have.

Can anyone guess Clint and Ransom's?