Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics or the Hunger Games.

So, thanks to everyone who read the previous chapter! Now it's time to read about death and stuff—as terrible as that sounds. This chapter was heavily inspired by my Beatles-mania and instead of having only a portion of the lyrics posted, they will be intertwined throughout the whole chapter.

Let's read on, shall we?

~The Games, Part VII~

District 8: Skylark Plont

At first, I'm completely shocked by what's happening. I never expected this to happen—not while I was in the arena, at least. But I can't say that it bothers me as much as it probably would bother other people, namely Drizzle. I feel almost guilty for half of a second, but then Mercy kisses me and I don't (maybe for the first time ever) think of my sister anymore.

And then she looks at me, a frown on her face, studying my face with close scrutiny.

"Sorry," she mutters, "I wasn't going to do that."

"But you just couldn't resist, right?" I say, acid dripping from my tone. I'm baiting her, because I know exactly how she'll respond, what she'll do. I don't know why I want this to happen, only that I just want to do something other than rot in this house.

"No," she answers, reluctant embarrassment soon gives way to anger. "I was just upset. Sorry that dead babies and decomposing bodies don't turn me on. I know that's you're poison."

"Wrong again. Try old ladies with anger management issues."

She glares at me. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"Right. So it's normal to—"

"Stop dancing around the subject." I command, smirking a little when she gives me the finger. "Just tell me why you really kissed me."

"I don't respond to authority." says Mercy. "Your attitude is shit."

"So is yours." I fold my arms across my chest, relenting when she doesn't say anything. "I didn't mind, okay? It was nice, it would just be nicer if you didn't act like you don't care."

"I guess I do." Mercy tells me.

"Okay."

And then I kiss her.

She's not a girl who misses much
Do do do do do do do do, oh yeah
She's well acquainted with the touch of the velvet hand

I think she might push me away, but she doesn't. I can feel her smile against my lips and we fall back onto the pillows.

I can hear Drizzle's voice in my mind. I picture her angry face. I think of how she would be yelling at me right about now. Stop it, Skylark! Don't be a dumbass. So many things could go wrong and she's so not good enough for you. She's worse than fucking Paisley Noam.

And I'm tired of listening to it.

I'm tired of feeling like I should keep her opinions in mind when I'm making a decision. For once, I just want to think about what's best for me—not my twin sister. And besides, she's not even here and what she doesn't know won't hurt her. It's like that one time with Mrs. Twill. It was better for her to think we ate her cat than for her to know that Mr. Needles really ran away to another family.

Ignorance is bliss, I guess.

She won't find out about any of this. Not that this is going much farther than either of us really expected it to. Not that I'm enjoying myself or that I feel differently about her input in my personal life. And certainly not that we aren't attached at the hip like she likes to believe.

It will be okay.

And with my new mindset, I let everyone else fade away.

District 11: Lily Flores

I'm finally bored of watching them.

I think of got enough information on them anyway—even some useless shit that nobody else cares about.

Dropping from my perch in the tree, I brush the dirt from my dress and take a deep breath.

This is the hard part.

I have to be polite. Nice. I need to act almost helpless, too, like I'm at the end of my rope. It's all part of the plan. I think I've almost perfected it. Give someone an opening, a chance to knock you down a peg, and they'll take it. You just have to make sure that they don't know what's coming next. Don't go for the obvious or else your opponent will see right through your strategy. Then, you have to swoop in and take their chess piece. Once you've got that, winning is pretty surefire thing.

I break the heel of my ugly, red shoe and do my best to look out of energy.

You can do this, I tell myself, it's just a game.

So I walk into their camp, stumble a few times, and fall on the ground.

"Look!" Wendy calls out, yanking on Rowena's sleeve. "An intruder!"

Beech approaches me, handmade spear in his hand.

"Hello," I say softly.

"Hi," he says, and now that he's closer I can tell that he's very uncomfortable with the weapon.

I cough once. Look at him with pleading eyes. "Please... I'm not here to hurt you... any of you... I'm just so... tired."

He lowers the spear almost immediately.

"I mean, it would stink if you killed me... with... my own spear..." I prattle on, studying the boy's face carefully.

Beech's eyes light up. He looks at me, then at my gift. I can almost see the connection forming in his head. "You gave this to me?"

"I... made it," I say, "then I gave it to you."

"Thank you."

I nod.

"Why?" The older girl, Rowena, pipes up.

Like a lizard on a window pane
The man in the crowd with the multi-coloured mirrors
On his hobnail boots
Lying with his eyes while his hands are busy
Working overtime
A soap impression of his wife which he ate
And donated to the National Trust

Because you guys needed it.

As much as I want to say otherwise, I can't.

I keep seeing my brother in Wendy and I remember watching them, thinking of Andre watching me watching them and feeling terrible. So, yeah, maybe I had other reasons for supplying them with that weapon, but it still fits in nicely with everything else. I can still do this, it will still work. It has to.

"You only... had that... one knife and... I didn't need it... so here we are."

"Well, you can at least let us repay you." the District 7 boy says.

"H- how?"

He smiles at me, helps me to my feet, brings me over to the blanket. "Stay with us. Rowena and I need someone to watch Wen while we look for food."

"I don't know..." I look at Rowena, who seems torn.

Better act weaker.

"I can't do very much..."

"I'll watch her, then!" Wendy cheers, effectively squashing any thought of Rowena making me leave.

"Is that okay with you, Lily?"

I squint at Beech. How the hell does he know my name? I know I haven't told him anything about me, and I really don't expect him... oh, he remembered it. I feel stupid and kind of touched that he cared enough to keep tabs on the other tributes—even me and I've been plotting against them since day one, maybe even before then.

I try to smile at him. "Um, sure. Sounds great."

"Good, then you're in the alliance." Wendy announces.

It looks like this is going to be harder than I thought...

District 3: Clint Manti

I'm on a mission.

Some distant part of me knows that this whole thing is wrong, but I only have one goal: Kill Ransom Sage.

The boy who was almost responsible for my death.

All because he is one of them.

Those careless people who don't think before they act. The ones who don't realize that what they choose effects other people—not just themselves. That even though they get out of trouble unscathed, there still has to be someone around to take the fall. Endure the punishment.

Me.

My hand finds the gun that sits in the waistband of my pants. I found it when I snapped out of that terrible roller coaster of emotions. I don't even know who put it there. Only that I was still in that dank basement, right next to that torture device. I also realized that Ransom was why my throat was still raw from screaming, why my eyelids felt as though they had been ripped off my face, why I have a long gash running from my eye to the corner of my mouth.

Which is where the revenge comes in.

I see the world through different eyes now. Live by the an eye for an eye mentality, only better. It's more like a heart for an eye or a liver or stomach—any vital organ works.

He made a pathetic camp between two trees. He doesn't even have any shelter or food or water. He's just lying there, sniveling like the coward he is.

I hate him.

I stomp over to where he is, forgetting about how I planned on being inconspicuous.

Ransom looks up when he senses my presence.

"Clint!" he says, jumping up and running over to me. "I'm so so so so so so so sorry. I promise never to leave you like that again! I mean, when I win I'll totally name my first kid after you... it won't even take that long because the ladies will be all over me and—"

"Shut up."

So he hugs me.

Only in Ransom's world would "shut up" translate to "hugs are okay."

I shove him away. "Don't touch me!"

"But—"

"I'm not here to except your apology, idiot."

"Well then what..." he trails of when he sees me with the gun. "Oh please please please don't kill me... we'll think of something else! I promise to make it up to you—I swear on that hot blonde chick from District 4!"

Down
I need a fix cos I'm going down
Down to the bits that I left uptown
I need a fix cos I'm going down

"She's dead." I say in a monotone.

He shakes his head. "No, I meant that guy's girlfriend."

The safety clicks off.

A bullet lodges itself in Ransom's arm. A perfect circle of red stains his shirt, seeping through his fingers as he desperately tries to staunch the flow of blood. I can see the tears rolling down his face and I try to care, but all I see is the boy who left me for dead.

And I just can't deal with that.

I fire another shot, this time in his leg.

Ransom's crying gets louder and louder and the blood begins to drip on the ground.

"See, there's a difference between me and you, Ransom. You left me to suffer and I'm here to end it."

And I do.

The final bullet buries itself in his brain, leaving another hole on his forehead.

Mother Superior jump the gun...

District 6: Fallon Zeider

I don't even see her.

Fern Gresham is the last person on Earth I expect to find in the arena.

And here she is.

"You're a monster," she says accusingly.

My knee-jerk reaction is to argue the opposite. That I'm just a little boy—a weakling—who can't even handle the thought of killing another human being.

But I don't.

It's kind of nice, having someone seeing me for who I really am right off the bat.

"I know." I answer as sweetly as I can. "You could tell that to my best friend, Addle. Better yet, tell my dear old dad, he wouldn't believe you but you can't win them all, can you?"

"You killed Sukara, didn't you?"

"I wish."

She shakes her head. It's almost like she knew I'd say that. "You're still a murderer."

"Duh. Just ask the District 12 girl."

"You don't deserve to be alive."

"Alright then..." I say, an idea forming in my head. I toss her my knife. "Why don't you do something about it."

Fern lets the blade hit the ground. She stares at it in pure disgust.

"Do it. I dare you."

Her eyes meet mine and she bends down to pick it up, a look of nausea on her face.

Of course, I don't think she'll do it; she doesn't have the guts. So it takes me by surprise when a sharp pain assaults my stomach. I look down to see the knife handle protruding from my abdomen. I shut my eyes, open them, try to keep things in focus. But Fern's expression is fuzzy and I think she's talking, but I can't be sure.

"I'm sorry, Mom." and then her lips move, and her words are barely audible. "It's okay honey."

Happiness is a warm gun (Happiness bang, bang, shoot, shoot)
Happiness is a warm gun, mama (Happiness bang, bang, shoot, shoot)
When I hold you in my arms (Oo-oo oh yeah)
And I feel my finger on your trigger (Oo-oo oh yeah)
I know no one can do me no harm (Oo-oo oh yeah)

I close my eyes and think of the peace I found at the death of others.

District 5: Autumn Coville

God, is everyone a fucking idiot?

The answer to that is obvious.

Hell yes.

I'm still stuck in this small room with Scout and Tweedledum and Tweedledumber, still spying on those other morons, as if what they're doing really matters.

"Brandon!" Drizzle shrieks, though the sound is muffled by the kid's hand. "Let go of me!"

I watch as she struggles to leave and fails miserably. It's hilarious, or it would be if she shut up. Personally, I think it's stupid for her to care so much about her brother's personal life. She's going off the fucking deep end and she looks like someone from the Capitol on drugs.

"No, Driz." he says sternly.

"I'm going to kill her!"

Scout looks at me with a smirk on his face, I guess this is working out pretty well for him. "You're enjoying this, too, aren't you?"

"Of course I am." I don't miss the condescending tone in his voice.

I kick him in the shin, he curses, but he doesn't retaliate.

Instead, he addresses Drizzle.

"I bet you do." I've never heard Scout sound so... nice. It makes me want to puke. "But you aren't going to want your brother around when you do it. Something tells me he won't like seeing you stab his girlfriend."

"What do I care?" she says, but I can tell he has her attention anyway.

"I mean, you don't want to destroy your relationship with him. He obviously likes her a lot." he gestures to the door, reminding the girl that her brother is fucking some girl's brains out not twelve feet away from her.

It's kind of brilliant.

She spits at my feet, glaring at Scout like he's nothing more than the scum on the bottom of her shoes. I make a move to smack her across the face, but Scout catches my hand.

"Listen," he says pointedly, "I'll help you, all I have to do is get him out of the house, you just have to take care of the rest. Deal?" he holds out his hand.

She takes it. "Deal."

And things just got a lot more interesting.

Because happiness is a warm gun, mama (Happiness bang, bang, shoot, shoot)
Happiness is a warm gun, yes it is (Happiness bang, bang, shoot, shoot)
Happiness is a warm, yes it is, gun (Happiness bang, bang, shoot, shoot)
Well, don't you know happiness is a warm gun, mama? (Happiness is a warm gun, yeah)

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

District 3: Sukara "Suka" Ravo

District 5: Ransom Sage

District 6: Fallon Zeider

Just to let you know, I will be starting a new SYOT. The synopsis is on my profile. PM me if you want to reserve a spot.