Disclaimer: The Hunger Games doesn't belong to me blah blah blah—the lyrics are not mine either.

~The Games, Part ll~

This won't mean a thing come tomorrow
and that's exactly how I'll make it seem
Cause I'm still not sleeping,
thinking I've crawled home from worse than this

~Taking Back Sunday, Great Romances of the 20th Century~

ѮѼѮ

District 5: Ransom Sage

Well, this is certainly unexpected.

When I open my eyes, I still can't see a thing. And I can't move either, I try to lift my hands up, but they're stopped by something cold and heavy. My legs seem to be shackled to the same type of thing, and I don't like it. When I followed this chick I didn't think this would turn into some fucking S&M orgy. I hate that kind of crap—it's so messed up.

"Hey, Clint!" I stage whisper into the darkness. "Are you there, man?"

"I'm here," he answers, though he sounds very far away.

"Good. We have to get out of here." I'm counting on the fact that maybe Clint isn't chained to some shitty chair like I am.

I hear him sigh. "I can't move, can you?"

So much for that idea.

"Nope."

This is starting to bother me. I don't have much of anything to help me. I think of the first-aid kit I snagged from the Cornucopia, and how I dropped it when I caught sight of that girl... man, was she hot. She's ten-worthy. And I just kept walking and walking and then I ended up here. I'm having trouble remembering what happened in between then and now, but it can't be good.

"I think I'm in a chair or something... but I can't see either."

I yank at the restraints, hoping they'll break, because every second I'm here I get more and more afraid and I don't want to pee myself—especially if that girl is around. I don't want to look pathetic or anything.

"Ditto." I say and my voice breaks.

"Do you two need any help with that?" Someone asks us, and it's not the hot girl.

"No, I think we're good. Right Clint?"

"Right!" the District 3 boy pipes up.

I can almost hear this guy's muscles twitch as he smiles. "It'll be my pleasure."

Another person circles around me like a shark. Their shoes clomp loudly against the floor and as they get closer to me, I'm able to smell blood on their skin.

The blindfold falls to the floor.

I gasp.

We are in some dungeon that smells of rotting flesh and mildew. I turn my head to see Clint sitting in some kind of elaborate torture device not a foot away from me. The contraption has metal teeth hanging over the edge and I assume that, if they were to be released, they would cut Clint's head right off of his shoulders.

Ouch.

"Hello again, boys." a familiar voice says. I recognize the girl immediately, she has the same pale skin and white dress... and that same hypnotizing tone... but she is fucking ugly now. Even creepy Autumn surpasses her on my scale.

I'm missing Mila more and more by the second. Hell, I even miss Eulalie—and she almost broke my face.

"Have you met my friend yet?" asks the girl.

I shake my head. "No... but that's okay... we'll catch up later. Seeing as we should really be going somewhere else." I think I'm crying now, but I can't really tell.

"No," she says seductively. "Stay. Please." she smiles, revealing two sets of pointy teeth and a snake-like tongue.

"Just let us go." I squeak, sounding like a mouse.

"No." The man sounds so authoritative when he says it, that I don't protest.

He's dressed in a long gray coat that has so many pockets that I can't count them all. I bet he smuggles drugs in them, or maybe he just sells condoms to teenage boys so they don't have to have awkward conversations with their parents... yeah, that's a great alternative.

Actually, once I really think about it, that still sounds pretty damn creepy.

Creepy-dude reaches into one of the pockets and pulls out a long serrated blade. I shrink back into my seat. Please don't kill me with that... please please please!

I close my eyes, thinking that maybe it will hurt less if I don't see it.

"Now, boy of District 5, I'll give you two choices..."

Choices, good... wait, why isn't he killing me yet?

"You can either watch me hurt your ally and leave this house pain-free," Wow, he has the grin of a freaking pedophile. "Or you can hurt yourself and both of you can leave—the District 3 boy will be unharmed."

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out my answer. "Option one! I want the first one!"

The snake-girl's hand curls around my wrist and suddenly, my hands are free. Next comes my ankles. I'm ready to run out of this hellhole the second I can stand up, but she grabs me by the shoulders, holding me firmly in place. She even tilts my head back at a strange angle. It's almost like I can see everything more clearly this way...

Shit.

Clint eyes the knife with such a look of fear that the nicer part of me almost takes everything all back, but I don't think anything I say will make any difference.

I already sold the kid's soul to the Devil.

I fight to close my eyes—the girl's fingernails are forcing them to stay open—to no avail. I see everything I bargained for and more—I'm screaming like a baby when it's all over.

She releases me with a laugh...

And I run, because there's nothing else I can do. I run and run and trip up the steps and yank the front door open and hope for a cannon to fire.

But it never does.

District 1: Scout Penumbra

The girl falls out of the tree the same moment Angelina waltzes back into camp.

I kick Cameron's body aside while she inspects the area, the hovercraft will come and take his corpse away when we clear out, but not a second before then. I hear Adrian make yet another sound of protest, so I turn around a give him a look that says: Shut up before I shut you up, which he obeys almost immediately.

"Who do we have here?" she asks, her voice ten times sweeter than it normally is.

It doesn't take long for me to come up with a name and a district for the girl with the crazy red hair. "Autumn Coville. District 5."

"Isn't she adorable?" Angelina coos, sounding like an idiot.

"No."

She's competition and as far as I'm concerned, smarter than ten Angelinas trying to change a light bulb. She exudes an aura that makes Adrian want to pee himself, and I think this Autumn girl should be killed on the spot.

Too bad Blondie insists on treating her like a Goddamned pet.

And then she gives us this gem of an insult, "I wish I could say the same about you, but it looks like your plastic surgeon fucked up your face for laughs."

"Why would you say that?" my district partner asks, a hurt look crossing her face. "I'm like, the prettiest girl on the face of this Earth. In all of Panem..."

I try to stifle my laugh—even Adrian smiles despite himself.

"... right Scout?"

"No comment," I tell her. "Can you just get on with the killing, or do I have to do it?"

She studies Autumn for the longest time, before looking at me with that bitchy expression of hers—the one that makes her look like a constipated yuppy. "I don't think we should kill her, Scout."

I raise my eyebrows. "You—the girl who nearly killed her best friend at the reapings—don't think we should get rid of a liability?"

"I'm not a liability!" the child-like girl shouts, offended.

I think she tacks a "fuck you" to the end of her statement, but I ignore it. I'm too busy being amused by Angelina coming up with a list absurdities as to why we should keep her, like a pet, to care about anything Autumn says.

Almandine stomps over to us a few seconds later. She's cleaning off her sword with a scrap of fabric from her dress. "What's going on?" she asks.

I roll my eyes. "Nothing important. Where's Fawn?"

"Mandy," Angelina shrieks, "don't you think Autumn would be a great addition to our alliance... since Fawn had that... accident of hers?"

Bullshit. Am I supposed to believe that Fawn walked into Almandine's sword? No, from what I've seen of her, she is far too smart to be fooled by either of those girls. More like they attacked her, the both of them, which gave her a disadvantage. My eyes fall on Cameron again—he had been met with a disadvantage as well. Sure, he was trained and stronger than me, but he acted too quickly and I had the upper-hand, so down he went.

"I guess." The District 7 girl shrugs, not caring one way or the other.

Be smart about this, I tell myself. Don't assert yourself just yet. Remember the plan. You won't get home to Kaleb by jumping ahead of schedule.

I take a deep breath, staying calm is key, and reminding myself of Kaleb is just what I needed to do. I may hate my district, but I love my brother and I can't leave him alone with those superficial asses. His brain will rot out of his ears. Maybe, if Adrian's luck proves to be real, Angelina's brain will rot instead—you know, if she even has one.

"Where's Cameron?" Angelina asks, stamping her foot. "He'll agree with me!"

"About that..." Adrian stammers, looking to the left and then the right.

"He was dead when we came back." I interject quickly. No need for him to ruin what will be a perfectly good set up. I can already smell the nostalgia... "and Mercy was gone. I think we're missing a few backpacks as well." I back away from his dead body, waving my hand the way Caesar Flickerman might to display a tribute's fancy costume.

The District 1 girl's face goes from –the exact shade of red that stains her bandage—to purple in ten seconds flat.

"What?"

I sigh loudly. "Surely you understand what this means, right?"

"Fall," Angelina addresses the angry girl as kindly as she can manage. "Go find that bitch, and make sure she's alive when you bring her back. I have special plans for her."

And so the manipulation begins...

District 8: Skylark Plont

I honestly don't know what made me agree to this.

Mercy Tenebrae is annoying, bossy, smug, unfeeling, mean... and yet, when she held her hand out, I took it. Sure, it took me awhile, but we made an alliance nonetheless. And I think I'm okay with it—or at least I had been before Drizzle woke up.

"What the hell is she doing here?" My sister demands, eyes turned on me, as if it's my fault the District 2 girl showed up in the middle of the night.

"I asked myself the same question last night," I admit, letting my hair fall over my eyes. "But I think it's a good idea to keep her here."

My sister looks at me incredulously. "And why is that?"

I think back to the list of reasons I came up with a few hours ago. "She knows what she's doing. Mercy's trained—her best friend's a victor, she knows what we have to do to win—she can make sure you're safe." The last part is kind of difficult to say, especially because I know it will start a fight, but I think Drizzle needs to be reminded that I still care.

"I'm not your personal bodyguard, dumb fuck. And don't bring him into this, my greatness has nothing to do with him."

Brandon flinches at Mercy's harsh words. "Do I get a say in this?"

"No." I say automatically. I don't like this kid... I don't like that he has an obvious crush on my sister. He's a moron—and he shouldn't be anywhere near Drizzle.

"Wait." Drizzle holds her hand up. "She gets to talk, but Brandon can't say anything? And she called you dumb fuck and you're okay with it. What kind of crap is that?"

"I've called him a lot of things before." says Mercy. She's using such a smug tone that her voice alone would be enough to piss my sister off. I wonder what she could possibly mean by that, because her remark makes little sense at all.

"And what makes you think that she won't kill all of us? She's a Career."

Good point. Thankfully, before I get the chance to open my mouth, Mercy jumps in. "Please. If I wanted to kill you, I would have already." she shoots a glance at me that can only be described as flirtatious, and goes on, her voice getting more and more condescending with each word. "And, trust me I would never want to hurt Skylark... too badly."

I know where this is going the second that sentence leaves her mouth and I don't like it. I sort of feel used, a feeling that hurts more than I should let it.

Drizzle glares at me, her arm coiling around Brandon's shoulder. "Is that—"

She's cut off by the sound of a tree branch snapping.

"What was that?" Brandon asks, eyes going wide.

I look around our camp. It's pretty small, so whatever it was, it's still pretty far away from us. The trees surrounding our alliance are still in tact—or as in tact as they can be when they're dead.

"Another tribute or a Mutt or a tribute-eating Gamemaker." Mercy says, bored. "Either way, we still have to move... unless any of you have a death-wish."

"I don't trust you."

"Fine." she says, grabbing her sword and stomping off into the woods. "I'll go first!"

I watch as her back disappears in the darkness, sword clanking as she swings it against tree after tree after tree. Part of me doesn't want to follow her, not after those comments of hers, but I know I'd be dumb not to. I'm still not sold on going after Mercy until I see Brandon scoot even closer to Drizzle, who had dropped her arm the second she realized I wasn't paying much attention to her. I don't want to have to watch my sister flirt with this idiot. And that's what makes me take my knives and a mauve-colored backpack into the woods, cringing as my eyes adjust to the total darkness. Not anything else.

I don't look behind me to see if Drizzle decided to come after me. It's pretty much a give-in that she did, seeing as we haven't gone anywhere without each other since we were three.

I grab tree branches in an attempt to not fall, but it kind of freaks me out to think about how I can't see what I'm holding onto. That's the creepiest part of being in the dark—not knowing what's coming next.

Eventually, after I cut my palms on who-knows-what several times, I see a small pool of light shining ahead of me. I start running for it immediately, not realizing how much being in the dark bothered me until I had the sun within my reach.

I almost trip over Mercy when I break into the clearing. She's sitting in the grass, barefoot, examining her shoes with a pissed off expression on her face.

"Watch it!" she mutters, taking the heel in her hand and snapping it off.

"No." I tell her, smirking a little bit as I wait for one of Drizzle's sarcastic comments.

It never comes.

I turn around, expecting to find my pink-haired sister standing behind me, but nobody's there.

I hear Mercy chuckle. "You ditched Drizzle. I bet you're not getting a birthday present this year."

"No," I say indignantly. "She's coming." I hope.

"Sure. You know, she might have stayed behind to make-out with Brandon. It's pretty awkward, the whole shoving-my-tongue-down-someone's-throat-while-my-brother's-watching thing."

"Shut up." I don't want to let on to the fact that the thought of Drizzle having a boyfriend makes me want to break something. Preferably, said boyfriend's jaw.

"Whatever." she says, holding her hands up in surrender. "It was just a thought."

"Yeah? Well, stop thinking. We'll both be better off without it."

"Shut up and let me see your hand." She takes my wrist before I can say anything in protest.

Mercy looks at my palm with annoying scrutiny. "What the hell did you do to yourself?"

"Nothing." I shrug. "I couldn't see."

She wipes the blood away with the sleeve of her dress. "I don't think that one has any first-aid stuff in it, so this is the best I can do."

I nod. "Thanks."

"No problem," she says.

Like it doesn't mean a thing.

District 3: Sukara "Suka" Ravo

It's getting dark.

I don't have a single weapon.

I wonder how long I've been wandering around out here, cold, sad, and alone. It's pissing me off, really. Why does every tree here look the same? Why wasn't I able to get anything from the Cornucopia? Why did I run away?

It's not as if I knew that Bengal-kid anyway. I mean, I didn't even say two words to the kid.

But it made me mad—the amount of twelve-year olds in the arena is way too big. I remember how upset I got when Maui suggested that the little girl would be reaped, I don't like to see kids get bullied or hurt. And when that Career stood over him, dropped that blade on his neck, I couldn't take it. But rather than fight her, I ran.

And I can't stop.

That sight was way too gruesome and I can't get it out of my head.

Finally, out of breath, I lie on the ground and wait for the faces to show up in the sky.

The reflections of the two dead tributes stay in my head as my eyes close and I drift off to sleep.

District 4 Mentor: Zane Dalis

I'm seriously reconsidering my opinion of these Games.

Fawn. Is. Dead.

I honestly didn't believe that it could happen. She was strong. She knew how to fight. How could she be gone? My mind takes me back to the times when she would look to me for advice. How I would show her the proper way to hold a sword, how to use even the most complicated of hooks, which bodies of water were abundant in fish.

Her parents must be devastated—they only have one more child left, and he would probably begin to train within the next two weeks, after this year's victor gets crowned.

I sit down in the empty seat next to Haymitch. "Both of mine are out."

"Really? That was fast." Chaff says, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand.

Haymitch laughs. "Two in one day, that must be a record!" His words are just starting to slur, so he can't be that drunk yet.

"Tell me about it." I steal the bottle from Chaff, understanding why the two of them drink so much for the very first time.

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.

If anyone is still curious, Ransom and Clint's scenario was "The Hostel" but I think it morphed into "Saw" near the end a little bit, but the premises aren't that different, so I'm okay with that. Anyway, thanks for reading and don't forget to review because I love reading them.