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Drew Kendall
District Six Female, 15 Years Old
Day Two

Don't touch that, Drew.

I hear my brother's words echo in the back of my mind as I get my knife, slipping it out of my backpack. Back in the Bloodbath, I managed to grab this one backpack, and when I opened it, all it had was a knife. A knife that my brother would have scolded me over, telling me that I could hurt myself or even worse – I could hurt someone else.

He might not be here with me right now, but I still feel his presence. I still feel he's right beside me, scolding me like always did. Don't do that, Drew. Don't say that, Drew.

He never let me do anything.

He never let me speak up.

All he did let me was go through my mundane life, not allowed to say a word about anything. I was allowed to trudge to the factory every day, rubbing my hands together, preparing for my skin to go raw after washing all the clothes. My life was one whole tragedy, and after each step to the factory, I dug myself a deeper grave.

I was going to die there. I know that.

The conditions were poor. The people were even poorer.

But… I am now in the Games. Is that much of a difference? Am I safer here than I was back in Eight in the factory? I might die from a knife in the stomach here, but there, I could have died from a machine malfunction or an explosion.

Would I rather die in the arena or back at home?

I'd rather not die at all.

The idea of the unknown and falling into a void is rather unappealing.

Standing up, I sling the backpack over my shoulder, putting the knife away. Even holding it makes me uncomfortable, knowing that right now, Harrick is probably watching me. He's probably watching me, with my mother and Lyron at his side.

My mother probably is sitting in complete silence like always, Lyron is probably cracking some uncalled for joke, and Harrick is probably… He's probably genuinely scared for me. Terrified, even.

He was always the one to care about me most.

He was the only one who actually did.

I begin to walk down the hallway, not wanting to stay in the same place for too long. If I do, then people will find me, and if people find me, they'll try to kill me. I'm not safe anywhere in the Games, really, but it's not worth it to sit around and not move. I have to keep moving if I want to survive.

I enter a larger hallway, one that branches off into several others. There are large light fixtures hanging from the ceiling, with one large pillow standing tall in the middle of the hallway. There are glass windows running along the walls, with showcases with different sculptures in them.

Once I take one step forward, I hear two other people talking that are nearby.

I'm not alone.

"Who do we have here?"

I spin around, and before I assess who the two figures are behind me, I'm already running. I run out of the room, past the large bookcases, and turn down another hallway. At the end of this one is a dead-end, and I stop for a moment, hearing my two chasers catching up to me.

Along the wall, I spot a door, and I slip into it, entering a room with a bunch of different paintings on the wall. They're mostly paintings of flowers, and I run passed them, trying to find another way out. When I find another door, I slip through it, pressing myself up against the wall.

Maybe they won't find me.

Maybe…

"Where did she go?" The one boy asks, panting. He seems to be running much harder and faster than the other one.

"I don't know," the other boy says, his voice more serious.

Gripping onto my backpack, I hold my breath, hoping they turn back and around and don't notice that I came this way. I hope they don't notice me… If they do, they're going to kill me… And I don't want to die.

I don't want to be killed.

"What's over here?"

His voice is too close for comfort, so I take off running down the hallway. I turn another corner, gripping my hands around a smaller pillar to propel myself further. Down this hallway, I see a vent of some sort. I run over it, seeing that it's sealed off, but I can pry it off.

I'll escape through there.

I can make it out of this alive.

I don't have to die.

I dig my fingers behind the metal seal on the vent, trying to pry off, hearing Caden and Marlon getting closer and closer. I hear their footsteps on the ground, and once Caden shouts something, I begin to panic. I punch the corner of the vent, and it bends a little, and as I slip my finger underneath it, I rip the seal off.

Throwing it to the side, I hoist myself up on the bench and jump into it. I begin to crawl down the vent, unsure of where any of this really will lead to. I just have to get away, though.

I just have to escape.

I can't let them catch me.

I can't let them kill me.

I can't die.

Not yet.

Not ever.

Caden Glite
District Five Male, 15 Years Old
Day Two

"I'm going in."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm going in," I repeat, stepping up onto the bench. Drew already tore off the vent cap, and right now, she could getting away. I can't let her get away – not after the chase she gave. "I'll be back."

Marlon takes a step back, nodding his head. I slip my backpack off my back, dropping it to the side, and kick myself up on the bench. Grabbing onto the vent, I get up into it, immediately crawling after Drew.

My knees bang on the metal beneath me, and I keep my head hunched, propelling myself forward with every crawling motion I do. Ahead of me, I see Drew turn the corner, and I pick up the pace, crawling after her more quickly.

"Get away from me!" Drew calls out, spinning her head around and smacking it against the metal. She winces, going back to crawling away from me. Then, when she turns the next corner, she's trapped. There's nowhere else to go except to crawl back forward.

But, she can't.

I'm already there.

"Don't run," I taunt, getting closer and closer. I didn't want to kill her, no… But, after Lonan killed Reanine, I couldn't help but want to kill someone myself.

I was interested.

And this is my chance to put myself in Lonan's shoes.

With my knife in my hand, I stay on my knees, peering ahead at her. She sits there, her feet out in front of her, ready to kick if she has to. She has no weapon… She has nothing.

I wonder what it will feel like.

For her, that is. Or for me.

I crawl forward, and as I get closer, she starts kicking. She pushes her feet down, getting them out of the way, and as soon as I get the opportunity, I thrust my knife forward. It finds her chest, and quickly, I pull my knife back out. Her legs calm down, and she looks up at me, staring at me with wide eyes.

"Running can only get you so far," I say, backing up from her, watching her become soaked in her blood. She brings up her knees to her chest, her mouth agape. "And, for you, running got you trapped in a corner."

Drew opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out.

"It was my pleasure," I say, backing up from her. I take my knife with me, and as I turn around, I find myself smirking. "Rest in peace, Drew."

As I crawl away, I expect to see Marlon waiting there at the end of the vent. But, when I turn the corner, I see that it's sealed off. The vent cap is back on it, sealing me off completely. I crawl faster, trying to see what Marlon is doing, but when I get closer, I stop.

I see something near the entrance of the vent.

It looks like a small tube of sorts.

Is that…

Is that my poison?

Crawling closer to the opening in the vent that is now sealed off, I see a small glass vial. Slowly, I see gas pour out of it, being released into the air. Behind the vent, I see Marlon's face, and within seconds, he's gone.

Marlon… He left me. He left me with my own poison in the vent.

I never would have thought that Marlon would betray me. He might've killed Lonan, but in that moment, I understand why. Lonan killed Reanine, so Marlon killed him in retaliation.

I wasn't going to get involved in that.

Not then, anyway, but now, I am involved. Marlon is now killing me.

Was it that he didn't trust me?

That must be it.

The green gas dissipates towards me, and I drop the knife to my side, bringing my hand to my mouth. Once the gas grazes my skin, it burns immediately, the burning sensation making me crawl away. I can't stay here.

I can't die… Not like this.

The gas begins to swallow me whole, cornering me into a tight section in the vents. Down this part, I see Drew's body all the way down there, her knees brought up to her chest. She lies there, presumably already dead. And now…

It's my turn.

It's my turn to be dead, isn't it?

The gas is all around me now, my eyes beginning to water. I breathe into the cloth of my suit on my hand, not wanting to intake it. I know what this can do. I know the side-effects of this poison.

But, it's too late. The gas comes into contact with my skin, making it bubble over and making it burn all over even more. It all burns – my eyes, my nose, my skin, my mouth. I can barely breathe anymore, and once I remove my hand from my mouth, I know it's all over.

The gas finds its way into my mouth.

And I…

I let it.

I let the gas consume me.

I let the gas kill me.

Smirking, I lie back against the metal sheet in the vent, close my eyes, and open my mouth. I'm going to die regardless… I'm going to die because Marlon used my own poison. He knew I would've killed him eventually.

It's clever of him. I respect his decision, because in reality, I would've done the same thing.

I would've killed him as soon as I get the chance.

My chest begins to feel heavy, the pounding and beating of my heart in my chest starting to slow down. I cough a little, the smirk still on my face, feeling saliva lathered around my lips. I take one deep breathe, feeling the stinging feeling from the gas in my lungs.

This is it.

This it for me, then.

This is it for the master-mind from Five.

This all wasn't in vain, though.

I learned something from this. That, in the end, death isn't that bad.

Death isn't as horrifying as everyone says it is.

It's rather… intriguing.

I wonder…

Nathaniel Bayle
District Eight Male, 18 Years Old
Day Two

I stare up at the wall, admiring the artwork.

It's a large painting, looking like it was done diligently and patiently by hand. There are strokes of red and yellows, creating little leaves that are lying on the ground. The grass is green, a patch of brown here and there. In the distance of the painting, there's a large farm building, with a red roof and black accents.

The frame around the painting is wooden, with nails at each corner. It looks so rustic, as if someone would actually have this in their home back in District Ten or something. It looks so real.

All of the paintings here do.

Across from where I'm looking at is another painting, but this one is of a house. It's an older-looking home, with wood paneling covering the windows and a ripped curtain one of the windows. The blue paint is chipping off of it, with the door slanted a little. There's a door mat, with dirt and leaves covering it.

There's so much detail in every one of these paintings.

I grew up in a family of artists, so I've always had some appreciation of art.

"Can't sleep?" I turn my head, seeing Cailen standing there, rubbing at her eyes. It's not that dark outside or anything, but the sun is going down slowly. Claire is sound asleep under one of the benches, her backpack clutched to her chest. Cailen laughs, both of us looking at her. "Looks like she isn't having any problems."

"Looks like it," I say, and I scoot over as Cailen takes a seat down next to me. I glance down the hallway, seeing the large arch above the doorway we came in. It's decorative, with a golden trimming around it. This hallway ends with a large window, a large red curtain covering it.

When I look back at Cailen, I see her staring at me, wide-eyed. "Is something wrong?"

"No, why?" I say, shaking my head, glancing back down the hallway at the window.

"I'm not dumb," she says, poking me in the arm. "You've been so quiet, and now you can't even sleep. What's wrong?"

"I just can't get comfortable," I say, offering her a smirk. She disregards it, shaking her own head and nudges me with her elbow. "What?"

"I never understood why boys are so closed-off," she says, moving a piece of hair out of her face. She looks at me, a frown forming on her face. "Is it about Gerri?"

I nod. "Yeah. Gerri."

"I miss her," she says, shrugging her shoulders and biting on her lip. "I just miss the sound of her voice. The way she always had something positive to say."

"Me too."

Cailen shifts in position, hoisting herself up with her hands. She looks at me, and although I want to offer her a grin again, I don't have it in me. I don't have the energy to give her some fake gesture right now.

"If you want me to leave you alone, just say so," Cailen says, her body angled towards me now. "I won't be offended."

I shake my head, scooting over a little more, and I kick out my legs. Leaning back against the wall, I rest my head on the bench's armrest, closing my eyes. I feel Cailen lie down next to me, and I open my eyes one last time, looking at Claire who's still asleep.

"Good idea," Cailen says, making herself comfortable next to me. "Let's go to sleep."

As I close my eyes, Cailen rests her head on my shoulder. I tense up, but after a second or so, I calm down, feeling her nestle her head to get more comfortable. I breathe in and out, trying to get myself to fall asleep, but nothing happens.

I open my eyes, staring at the painting of the house in front of me.

Even though Cailen and Claire are still here, it isn't the same. It isn't the same without Gerri there, with her peppy attitude, just like Cailen said. She always had something positive to say. With her, the alliance felt whole, and now, it feels off.

Like something's missing.

I realize that the chances of the four of us surviving the Bloodbath were slim-to-none, but I clung onto the small slither of hope that perhaps we all could do it. That we all could get out alive. But, once I saw the girl from Two spot Gerri, I knew it was over.

I was almost stupid enough to run over to her and try to save her.

Then, I snapped out that thought. I knew that, if I went over there, Levana would have killed me too. Claire, Cailen, and I all made it to the staircase, but Gerri tried to get a backpack or two. She tried to help this alliance.

And it got her killed.

Closing my eyes again, I try to fall asleep once more. Slowly, I feel myself drifting off, but I can't rid my head of Gerri. The way Levana slit her neck. The way her body laid there, dead. Her face was up in the sky last night, and when I saw it, I knew I should have done something differently.

I could have saved her somehow.

She didn't have to die. Now, I have others to protect. I have Cailen and Claire.

I'll make sure they don't die, either.

I won't let another one of my allies die.

I can't let another one of them die.

I can't let any of us die.

Alumax Derian
District Eleven Male, 17 Years Old
Day Two

"What was that?!"

Anaise perks up, pushing herself up on the wall. She stands up straight, grabbing the knife on the bench next to her, already sprinting down the hallway. I grab my backpack and spear, and for a moment, I contemplate running the other way.

Running the other way and escaping her.

But, when she looks over her shoulder and waves her hand, I know I can't. It's not time yet. It's not time for me to escape, for me to get rid of Anaise altogether. I begin to run after her, glancing out every window I pass by and seeing that it's getting later in the day. The sun's going down, the trees outside casting a shadow over the grounds.

"Did you hear that?!" Anaise shouts, stopping short, frantically looking to her left then to her right. "Someone is nearby… I hear them, 'Max."

Max.

Cringing at the nickname she has given me, I catch up to her, and as soon as I do, she goes off into another heavy sprint. She runs around a large bookcase, knocking into the corner of it. She keeps running, and as soon as she enters the next room, she stops, her knife pointed out in front of her.

From outside the room, I see a shadow. There's someone else in there with her.

When I get into the room, I see that it's the girl from District Ten, Tasha. She stands there, her hair all disheveled in front of her face, panting. She must have been running away from us, and now, she's trapped. Anaise takes a step forward, but Tasha doesn't up. She stands her ground, her axe in hand.

"Hi there," Anaise says, leaning forward. "I'm Anaise."

"I'm aware."

"You seem disappointed," Anaise says, standing on her tippy-toes. "Are you not happy to see me?"

"No."

"You should be."

"And why is that?'

"Because I am here to kill you now."

"Is that so?"

Anaise lunges at Tasha, but Tasha side-steps, her elbow sent into Anaise's hip. Anaise buckles over, but swiftly, she grabs a few pieces of Tasha's hair. Tasha tries to shake Anaise off of her, but Anaise's grip refuses to lessen. With her other hand, she swipes her knife at Tasha, only cutting Tasha's cheek.

Tasha lets out a shout, forcefully pushing Anaise off of her. I stand here, slowly backing away, not wanting to get involved. This is between Anaise and Tasha… Not me.

It'd make my life easier if Tasha killed her off right now.

Anaise sends her fist flying at Tasha's face, punching her right in the eye. Tasha falls back into the wall, her axe sliding off to the side. Anaise stands over her, pointing her knife down at Tasha.

"Do you see what you've done?" Anaise says, taking a deep breath. "I'm out of breath now."

Tasha opens her mouth to retort, but Anaise slaps her across the face, the gesture making me take a step forward now. I inch closer to her, the way Anaise is taunting the girl bothering me. Anaise inhales again, and she brings the knife closer to Tasha's face.

"Are you still there, 'Max?"

"Yeah."

"Close your eyes. I don't want you to see this."

With one more step forward, I raise my spear, holding it right at Anaise's back. She suspects nothing, and I glance at Tasha, her eyes widening with every second that passes. We make eye-contact, and I shake my head, not doing this to protect her. I'm not doing this for Tasha's benefit.

I… I just can't take it anymore.

I can't deal with her.

With one swift thrust of my arm, the spear impales Anaise from behind. She lets out a snarl, the tip of the spear protruding out from the other side. I see Tasha's face go into complete shock, but I don't see Anaise's face.

I don't want to see it anymore.

"Alumax…"

Taking a step back, I let Anaise's crumble over by herself. I still hold onto the end of my spear, waiting for the right moment to put her down for good.

"Why…"

I shake my head.

With one swing to the side, I take Anaise's body and my spear and toss it to the side. The spear is pushed out from her body, falling besides her, and the girl from District Ten, Tasha, struggles to get back up. She grabs her axe besides her, wiping the blood off of her cheek. Anaise only grazed it with her knife, but still, it drew blood.

And that was when it was too much for me.

Too me for me to handle. To witness.

"Do you want to slap me too?" Tasha snarls, already equipped with her axe. My spear's on the ground, as is Anaise's knife. I'm virtually weaponless at the moment. "I'm not afraid to you fight you too."

"Don't waste your energy," I say, leaning back against the wall, staring down at Anaise's body. As morbid as it is, I prefer seeing the back of her head. I always hated that smirk she had on her face, the smirk that made it seem like she thought her behavior was acceptable. "Go."

"Go?"

"Leave."

"Why would you let me leave?"

"Why question it?"

Tasha nods her head, already backing up. She holds the axe out in front of her, the blood from her cheek beginning to drip down her face again. In an instant, she's gone, turning the corner. Was it smart of me to let her go?

No.

But, after killing Anaise, I feel different. Different in the sense that I don't want to fight Tasha or anyone else. And, at the moment, I'm not in the mood to fight. I'm not in the mood to kill anymore. Anaise was enough for right now.

Sooner or later, Tasha and I will meet up again.

We'll both go far.

Bending down, I pick up my spear, and when I see the blade peeking out from under her, I flip her body over. Then, I see Anaise' face… The smirk. The deranged look in her eyes.

There might be a gaping hole in her stomach, but she still has that look on her face. The look that drove me to do this.

That made me kill her.

My own 'ally.'

Grabbing her knife, I slip it into my belt, turning away from her body as soon as I can. I don't need to see that anymore; that image that made me do it. I can almost hear the sound of her picking her nails and gnawing at them.

The incessant sound of her picking, and scratching, and tugging at her nails.

It was just so annoying.

She was so annoying.

And, now, she's gone.

She's gone because I killed her.

I killed her because I didn't trust her. I killed her because I didn't like her.

I killed her because… Because we're in the arena. In the Capitol, I didn't have the chance to kill the girl. But, here, I was able to. So, I took the chance. I took the chance and killed her.

I don't feel even guilt or remorse or anything like that. I feel different, though.

I feel relieved.

District Six, Drew Kendall – Placed 17th

District Five, Caden Glite – Placed 16th

District Five, Anaise Tuist – Placed 15th

Author's Note:

Hi, everyone. This was an unexpected chapter, but I had the motivation to get at least one more out since I don't know when the next update will be after this. So, there is Day Two.

Yes, three more deaths. I like to keep things fast paced and I don't like arena days where there's no deaths. Oops.

Anyway, that's that. Any general comments on the chapter as a whole?

Also, who is your favorite living tribute at the moment?

It might be a few days, a week, or even more until my next update, so until then!