I've got this thing. I like to know, and to discover. So when I know the plot…I've got trouble finishing. But rest assured, I've never quit a thing in my life. And I don't plan on quitting now. Sorry for the late update.
Kanina woke to an early morning light, but something was odd about it. The Capitol would most likely manipulate them in every way possible; somehow Kanina was determined to ignore the manipulations.
She reached to wake Scarlette first. The two girls had a deeper friendship going on than Gretelda or Kat to either of the two of them. They bonded and had shared everything with each other, and planned on being the final two - though neither of them mentioned that not both could live on.
Scarlette woke with a start, and a scream, which woke Kat. Kat's arm flew out to her left, searching for a no longer present Gretelda.
Kanina giggle. "Sorry," she smirked. "Didn't mean to scare you guys. I didn't know all three of you were scaredey ca-" She stopped suddenly, her eyes going wide and her breathing accelerating.
"I thought I saw something," she hissed between her teeth, then backtracked. "Where's Grace?"
"Grace!" Kat called, receiving a hiss from Kanina.
"What?" Scarlette asked. "We need to find her."
"She might have wanted to leave," Kat informed her. "Be quiet."
"And if she was taken prisoner? Or killed?" Ignoring the latter of the comments, a tear streaked down Scarlette's face. When the sniffles amounted to a greater noise, she was silenced by Kanina.
"We can't worry about her now. And besides, we'll find out tonight if she's dead or not. I sure as hell didn't hear a cannon."
"Still," Scarlette muffled the sobs.
"I'm a light sleeper. I would've," she reassured her. In all honesty, Kanina couldn't care less if Grace had died. It was obvious no one would have taken Grace alone and left the three of them. Unless some crazed serial killer was on the loose in the arena, picking them off one by one.
A realization hit. They, in one way or another, were technically serial killers themselves. Kat had killed a twelve year old boy in the blood bath, and a grown teen along with the kid. She would qualify. They all would. These games were sick.
"I've got a twisted feeling about staying here," Kat received involuntary goosebumps. The rays of the morning light were affecting them all. "Let's get a move on. Weapons poised," she instructed.
Scarlette and Kanina exchanged a who made her in charge glance but kept it quiet.
*.*.*
Sissy hummed an old song she used to sing as a kid to herself as she scrubbed the dirt out of her pants.
"No use," Cormac walked up behind her, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "It's not coming out," he smiled.
"I'm still going to try," she informed him. "I've got nothing else to do. I'm useless here," she frowned, trying to hide her emotions. She felt like she was being watched. She was probably on camera right now.
His eyes widened at the remark. "You're not useless!" He retorted.
She raised her eyebrows.
He decided to change the subject. "You're so motherly, the way you do everything. The way you work with your hands and hum to yourself and seem deep in thought. It's beautiful," he assured her.
"Beautiful…" she mused. Her husband had never referred to her as anything more than a pretty face to kiss. Nothing more than "a housewife…" He was never mean, never nice. Never memorable. He wouldn't be remembered after she died. She started to think about her kids then stopped. The memory was too painful.
Though she smiled at the compliment, nothing romantic went on between her and Cormac. She would refer to him as beautiful as well. She might even risk her own life for his. What she failed to realize was that that was purest, most beautiful kind of love. And she'd never realize it.
He kissed her cheek. "Yes, beautiful. You hungry yet?"
She wondered if he was being rhetorical. They were all hungry. Sissy turned to see him smiling.
"I'll set a snare and some rope traps. I learned how to make a special kind back home," he grinned, proud. "They're actually easier to catch prey in - they're hidden under collections of leaves and are near impossible to spot. The moment an animal steps foot on it, the rope snaps and the prey is turned upside down, almost…" He stopped.
"Then what happens?" Sissy was curious.
"It's cruel. Gory. The animal gets squished in half…" he cringed. "Don't go anywhere near where I'm going. I'll take a careful route back."
"Return soon, then," she smiled slightly.
He handed her a knife. "Defend yourself as necessary."
Sissy swallowed hard. She hadn't mastered a single weapon and was terrified to be alone. She was terrified to admit it. "Ok," she managed.
Cormac saw the fear in her eyes but took no action. Instead he left for the woods.
Sissy didn't hum anymore. She was dead silent, listening for a subtle snapping of a twig or the breath indicating the approach of an intruder.
*.*.*
Blake and Mollie had shivered through the night together and were packing their stuff up in the early morning. Something didn't feel right.
Blake protectively put his arm around Mollie and whispered "We should get moving," to her ear.
She glanced at him, and he kissed her. Her eyes widened and she looked away stunned.
From the bushes, that was enough to outrage Leah.
She sprung silently, and like a slow motion movie, she jumped into the air. Her posture was perfect, her mouth was opening at a slowed rate as Mollie and Blake shared the romance. But it wouldn't last. Leah wouldn't let.
She held a knife in her hand and as the speed of the film gained momentum, Leah came down on the back of Mollie.
Mollie screamed but it was too late. The dagger had penetrated Mollie's skin and the blood oozed from the new wound. Mollie strained her voice as the deafening sound echoed through the arena. Her upper back had received the knife - it sunk straight to her heart, creating a near instant death.
In the split second she felt a force behind her, Mollie thought back to her home life. She sent a prayer to her Mom and Dad, who were long dead and thanked the Lord they wouldn't know her life ended like this. She thought back to Ethan and subconsciously called his name. "Ethan!" was her cry. Her final words. They weren't "Blake!" For help, for reassurance she loved him or because it was the least she could do. They were Ethan.
Maybe it was true, people fall in love with their saviors. Patients fall in love with their nurses and many people love Jesus - one of our saviors. So is something telling us that's the real love?
Maybe Mollie knew, or maybe she was wrong. But
"Who's the backstabber now?" Leah sneered, mostly for the cameras.
Blake cried a tear of anger and loss as he launched himself at Leah. His hands scraped across her neck and his nails dug into the soft tan skin of her face.
Leah "Puta!" She bellowed in Spanish at the pain.
Blake glared at her. He was too upset for words. Everything he stood for led to this. This could be his life or death and he preferred it not to be the latter.
"Ella…She was mine!" Leah hissed in an accent Blake didn't recognize as she pinned him to the ground with a thud and a crack.
"You…can't…own…" he started then stopped. She was cutting off his air. He lunged for the knife in her hand and grasped it in his own.
Blake didn't know where he got the power from, or how he managed the next seconds of his life. But he did know that this girl was relentless, and he planned to get his revenge. He loved Mollie. Leah would die.,
Blake pinned the girl to the ground and dug the knife she had deep into her scalp. Leah cried out in agony and Blake nearly stopped at the shrill sound escaping her lips. Nobody deserved this.
He thought back to her parents at home, and her siblings and friends and romantic life. She could've had a family and an education and fame and fortune and happiness and a peaceful death. But this death wouldn't be peaceful.
He dragged the knife across her forehead and she started to cry, muttering words in Spanish he wished he didn't understand. "Madre y padre lo siento, te amo, y Sarah, y Chris," she mumbled on in hysterics. Blake cringed and looked away.
He slammed the knife into her heart and her words were morphed into her final goodbyes.
The strange thing for Blake was this: he expected a feeling of relief, or background music to his life after the anticipation had worn off and his target was dead.
But there was nothing. The meek silence the atmosphere gifted him made him want to die as well. He felt guilt and sorrow. He felt nothing but bitter hate for the Gamemakers.
Slowly, scared all the while, he took the food and weapons off of Mollie and delicately brushed her cheek.
Two cannons sounded.
He took the clothes off Leah but left Mollie's to gift her some decency.
Slowly, very slowly, he back away. He was alone now.
*.*.*
Maya streaked through the forest like there was nothing to it. On her way to a very specific group of girls…in all too close proximity to them without even realizing it was Sissy.
Maya emerged on the clearing where Sissy stood, her back to a tree and her breathing uneven. She must of anticipated this.
Maya's offensive pla must have lead her to this - she drew a weapon (bow and arrow) and aimed for Sissy's core.
Sissy wouldn't have it. She left all their supplies and darted to the right, then left, swerving through the forest. She wasn't thinking right.
"Cormac! Cormac!" She was bawling, running and screaming for her life.
Maya was right on her tail. It might have been a wise decision to stay back and gather all the supplies she could, but no. Everyone was playing the game on instinct.
"Sissy!" A returned call was heard from somewhere distant. He didn't dare announce his whereabouts or whether he was coming for her, but she knew he was.
In the blink of an eye, against all odds, it happened.
An ankle of one of the runner's was snagged and her body was twisted and mangled by the trap set for smaller animals.
The girl's body was sliced by the rope, like the rope was some sort of metal. Limb by limb the girl's body fell to the ground.
Maya. Maya saw the trap, saw Sissy's life end, and ran.
Sissy had no time to think of her husband, and children. She had no time to imagine anything but the excruciating pain the rope brought, and the one who had caused this. The one who she had found a true sense of love with was dead to her now, because she was dead to him. Fair is fair in love and war. Love because of him, war because of the games. Games that shouldn't exist now.
*.*.*
Cormac heard the cannon and didn't need to guess at what had happened. He knew. The trap. He warned her and shouldn't of set it. It was all too perfect, really. That she would be the one to trigger it after he had warned her but hey, these were the Games right?
Wrong. A tear streaked down his cheek. He avoided the trap and didn't even bother to collect the rope or her supplies. Or even be aware of the intruder she'd been running form. He didn't want to face it. Not here, not ever.
Why now, should death have to be inevitable.
Apologies for the late update, short chapter, and lack of description.
Constructive critisism please! Tell me what you thought, though I'm sure this wasn't all too shmansy but I'm glad I got this update out.
And predictions?
Betcha didn't see this chapter coming. (*Attempts to wink and dies trying)