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Tasha Levelle
District Ten Female, 17 Years Old
Day Seven
I look at the painting on the wall.
It's of a little girl, with short brown hair, green-eyes, and a bright smile. I look at her, thinking that for a moment, it looks like my sister. And, in a way, it could look like me when I was younger. Behind the girl is a small cottage surrounded by trees. The girl stands there, her hands clasped together over her chest.
She looks so sweet. So innocent.
Like the girl I used to be all those years ago. The one who didn't hate the world, who was never angry with anything. The one who didn't loathe the Capitol. The one who didn't hate her own country.
The girl who never had a problem with anything.
I look away for a moment, and when I look back at the painting, it begins to distort.
The face of the person on the painting becomes disfigured, and the colors of it change, the paint dripping off of the canvas. Soon, the skin becomes darker, and the hair becomes shorter, and the person becomes taller. I stare at it in disbelief.
Then, when the person is finished, I realize who it is.
It's Audrey.
Audrey stands there now, his eyebrow raised, just like it always was. He seems angry, though, and the cottage behinds him begins to change shape and morph into different colors as well. Then, I see a person forming. It starts with the legs, working all the way up to their torso.
The figure then gets a face.
It's Ceylon.
The painting begins to move, with Ceylon chasing after Audrey. Audrey doesn't see him, though, and I shout aloud, slamming my fist against the wall besides the painting. Ceylon raises his spear, and with one swift thrust, stabs Audrey right through the stomach.
I punch the wall again, shivering. Red paint begins to drip from the canvas, dropping onto the floor, forming a small puddle. Taking my axe, I slash at the painting, knocking it off of the wall. I kick it once it's on the floor, breaking the canvas in half.
They're playing Games, Tasha.
Don't let them get to you.
Turning the other way, I begin to jog down the hallway, not looking back at the painting. I breathe heavily, the anger rushing through me, and with every step I take, the anger just builds up more and more. Gripping the axe in my hands, I slam it against the next showcase I run by, shattering the glass and breaking it.
I break the next one I run by, too.
At the end of the hallway is a door, and I step through it, and once I step foot inside of the next hallway, the curtains drop down. The hallway goes dark, and I try to back up, but I feel something solid behind me. The doors must have closed behind me.
I step forward, gliding myself along the wall, still holding out my axe. It's dark, but at the end of the hallway, I see another door, which only lights up that end of the hallway. As I get closer to it, though, the door slams shut, making the hallway become much darker.
And, at the end of the hallway, I see someone.
They're tall and muscular. They're holding a spear.
It's him.
Unhooking the smaller hatchet from my belt, I raise it in the air, and as I begin running forwards towards Ceylon, I release it. It soars through the air, and the figure perks up, throwing his fist in the air with a shout. The hallway is still dimly light from the curtains being closed, and he jumps to the side, dodging the axe completely.
He begins to run towards me.
I pump my fists, stomping my feet forcefully on the ground, and when we are close, I grab the other axe. I swing it upwards, and he slides on the ground, going right under my attack. I stop short, spinning around, swinging my axe again. He's already there, though, with his spear, thrusting it forwards.
"Tasha!" He exclaims, thrusting his spear forwards again, and I watch it graze my cheek. "I'm glad it's you. I was almost worried it'd be someone else."
"You'd be better off if it was someone else," I snap, swinging my axe, our weapons hitting into one another in the air. He pushes me back with the spear, and I dig my heels into the rug, using it to propel myself forwards. I literally launch myself at him, and with the end of this spear, he jabs me in the stomach, sending me flying in the other direction. "You don't want it to be me, Ceylon."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm going to kill you," I state firmly, kneeling down on one knee. He looks down at me, smirking, almost as if he doesn't believe me. As if I won't really kill him. That I won't take his life. "Is that funny to you?"
"It is indeed, Tasha."
"Fuck you, Ceylon."
"Not now, Tasha," I say, winking, watching her tense up. She grits her teeth, grunting. "And especially not here."
Ignoring his taunts, I go for another attack. I swing my axe, and he dodges it, slamming the end of his spear down on my foot. I kick it upwards, lifting the spear, but he pushes down, and I swing my axe, cutting him along the side of his face. His eyes widen, and he smirks, chuckling.
"That's not very nice."
With every facial expression he makes, it makes me angrier. It makes me want to kill him more.
I stand up, broadening my shoulders and taking a stand. Positioning myself to strike again, I watch him smirk, raising his own spear to attack again as well. I grit my teeth, bite down, and rush forwards. Our weapons clash once more, but this time, I don't let him push me back. I push him back, and I hunch down, swiping at his legs.
He is going to die.
And I'm going to be the one to do it. I'm not going to give up. I'm not going to back down.
I am going to kill him.
Ceylon Lanier
District One Male, 17 Years Old
Day Seven
"Come on, Tasha. You're boring me."
Tasha huffs and puffs, and she attempts to punch me, but I dodge it, ramming the end of the spear into her stomach. She buckles over, but quickly recovers, and she attempts to punch me one more time. This time, I grab her fist mid-air, squeezing it tightly. With her axe-hand, she swings it, but it misses me completely, and I squeeze more tightly.
"How does that feel?" I ask, shouting right in her face. She grits her teeth, and I feel her desperately trying to spring open her fingers. She struggles, and I squeeze with all my force one last time, until I hear a creak. She screams out in pain, and I chuckle, pushing her back with her own fist. "I would imagine that hurt."
"This is going to hurt," she says, and I smirk. I feel bad that she deludes herself like that; that she actually has the capacity – the ability – to hurt me.
She swings her axe, leaving her broken hand dangling at her side. She punches again, and rather swiftly, I disarm her. I jam the end of my spear into her stomach once more, and when she hunches over, I swing out my fist, knocking the axe right out of her hand.
"What about that?" I ask, seeing her scramble to get her axe. With a twitch of my leg, she collapses to the ground, flipping onto her back. She springs back up, still trying to go for her axe. "When will you stop?"
"Not until you die," she retorts, and once it's in reach, I rush forwards, knocking over her. She slams against a showcase, shattering the glass. It all falls on top of her, and she covers her eyes, blocking her eyes. "I'm not… I'm not done with you…"
"Well, I'm done with you," I say, chuckling. "I'm done with your attitude and how obnoxious you are with me."
Walking over towards her, I reach her before she can get up. She throws her hands out in front of her, but I move them aside with my spear. I push her up against the showcase with my foot, pressing my other foot on her throat. I press down, and I watch her begin to choke. I watch her struggle.
"This was enjoyable," I say, nodding my head, dropping my spear to the ground. I remove my foot, and she shoots up, gasping for air, but I push her back down. I kneel on the ground, pinning her arms down to the side. "Really, it was. I'm glad we were able to meet up again, Tasha."
"Fuck you…"
"I already declined your offer. Once was enough, Tasha, but twice is just desperate."
I don't even give her enough time to respond.
My fist finds her jaw.
And then, my fist finds her nose. And then her eye.
Soon enough, I stand back up, and Tasha writhes on the ground, her legs squirming and her arms thrashing out. I look down at her, stretching out my leg, and I press my foot on top of her axe, dragging it back towards me. She coughs, spitting up blood and spitting it out at me. I kick her once more with my foot, and she moans in pain, and I pick up her axe, weighing it in my hands.
"At least you put up a fight," I say, nodding my head as I look at the axe. "Audrey didn't, and neither did Otrera. Marlon did, though."
Tasha doesn't have it in her to talk. She attempts to – really, she does – but nothing comes out. She only manages to spit up more blood and hack some more, and eventually, I find myself getting bored. Watching her struggle on the ground is rather tedious.
"I know you wanted to kill me, Tasha. I know you wanted to avenge Audrey and all," I say, sighing for her. Really, I understand. I sympathize with her. But, alas, I could not let her kill me. I do not want to die; not yet, anyway. "You managed to draw blood, so that's definitely an accomplishment. You should feel proud of yourself."
With her own axe, I kill her.
I kill her quickly and painlessly. It's the least I could do for her.
Bringing down the axe into her chest, I hear her gasp for her last breath. I hear her last moan, her last sign of life. I bury the axe deep in her chest, and I leave it there, pushing myself off the ground.
"That's that," I say, grabbing my spear from the ground. I begin to walk down the hallway, and in the distance, her cannon fires. I keep walking, though, and I don't look back. I don't even flinch.
I don't do anything – besides walking, that is. And smirking. And chuckling.
I just can't help myself.
I must admit, though, that between all of my kills, Tasha might have been my favorite. She at least put up a fight; I mean, so did Marlon, but he was too easy. Audrey was easy enough as well. Otrera… Well, I'll just say that she was the most interesting to kill.
With her, it wasn't intentional. I just… I just wanted to see what the problem was.
I saw it in her eyes.
I saw the disapproving look she gave me. The face that showed me she was questioning our alliance. My stability.
Otrera just didn't see things through the same lens that I do. I'm here for entertainment. To satisfy my own desires. For my own self-indulgence.
She was here to save her family. She had real purpose being here. Her dying was a shame, really. She let down her whole family, and in a way, the rebellion. She let everyone down.
I didn't mean to kill her, anyway. I just wanted to show her… I wanted her to see what I did. I wanted her to look at the boy's body, and understand that I only did it for myself. I did it because it was fun.
I didn't mean to kill her.
That doesn't mean I regret it, though. I don't regret anything – not even Tasha's dead. Or Audrey's death.
I don't feel anything because of it. Although, I must admit, I feel good about myself. That's all.
It all started back in the Capitol when Levana approached me about allying. I shot her down, and then when Otrera approached me, I allowed it. It was a temporary alliance – it always was. But, with Levana, I made an enemy. I made an enemy with Leilani and Jonah, too. Once I killed Audrey, Tasha was my enemy. I'm sure Marlon became my enemy as well.
In a way, it was enjoyable; knowing that people hate you – that they want you dead – is self-gratifying. Knowing that I have that much influence over people and that my actions can cause that much distress to them… It's endearing.
I'm not here to make enemies, though.
I'm not here to make friends, either.
I'm here to have fun.
And so far, killing was the most fun I have had.
But, I want more.
I want to have even more fun.
Cailen Arkley
District Eleven Female, 18 Years Old
Day Seven
Wrapping the backpack around my hand, I punch through the glass.
The glass shatters, and with my hand, I swipe all of the glass out of the case. I push it all to the ground, and after it's all cleaned up, I unwrap my hand. No cuts, no blood, nothing. I grab the knife, and I hold it up in the air, examining it. For the first time in the Games, I have a weapon.
I have my own weapon.
Suddenly, the lights shut off. The curtains instantly become untied, dropping down to cover the windows. The whole hallway becomes black, and I remain where I am, unsure of what the Gamemakers are doing. The doors at the end of the hallway swing open, and a figure appears, and once they take one step in the hallway, the doors slam shut behind them.
I glance over my shoulder, trying to see if there are any other exits. There's nothing – there's nowhere else I can go. I look back at the figure, and I watch them walk forwards, tensing up. It could be anyone. It could be one of the Careers. IT could be Wren.
It could be Claire.
When the lights turn back on, though, I feel relieved for a moment. But, once I see that he's carrying a weapon and once I realize that the numbers are dwindling, I don't feel relieved. I begin to feel anxious; anxious for the inevitable outcome of this situation.
There's no running away. There's no relying on other people to take care of it.
"Look who it is."
"Alumax."
"Cailen."
"It's nice to see you," he says facetiously. "No Claire? Where is she?"
"She's gone," I state, not allowing my voice to shake as I say this. That, even though I'm not completely over it, I don't want him to know that. I don't want him to see me as someone who can't handle themselves. Who can't survive on their own.
"Oh," Alumax says, nodding. "Not dead, though. So, that's good, right?"
"I guess so."
"And now, here we are," he says, shifting the topic of conversation. "No Anaise, no Claire. Just you and me."
"Just us."
"I think we both know what that means," he says, raising an eyebrow, giving his arm a flick of motion, making sure I notice his spear. I gulp, nodding my head, making sure he notices my own knife. I know what this means. I know that only one of us will make it out of here alive.
"I do."
Alumax chuckles.
"You know you won't do anything, though, Cailen," he says, sneering as he tilts his head upwards, looking down at me. He wrinkles his nose, and as he switches the spear from his left to his right hand, I grab ahold of my knife. I grip onto it, and I keep it to my side, unsure of what's going to happen. I don't know what he plans on doing.
I don't know what I plan on doing, either.
"Why do you say that?" I ask, my voice quivering. Perhaps it's the tone of his own voice that's making me question his motives. That's making me feel unsure of what he plans on doing. If he wants to fight… If he wants to fight his own District partner, then there's nothing I can do.
All I can do is fight back.
All I can do is fight for myself.
"You're just going to stand there," he says, chuckling. "You won't stick up for yourself. Not here, anyway. Here, you have to fight – you have to kill, Cailen – to stick up for yourself. You don't have that in you."
A chill is sent down the back of my spine, and I grip onto the knife tighter, and I open my mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. No words, no sounds, nothing. I go quiet, and Alumax stands, clearly preparing for whatever he has planned. I shake my head, and as I look down to the ground, he chuckles again.
"Don't be upset," Alumax says, scoffing. "Don't cry, please. I don't mean to be mean, Cailen. I've always liked you."
"No you didn't," I snap, shooting my head upwards, staring at him. I feel my hands begin to shake, my fingers trembling around the grip of the knife. "You always ignored me, Alumax. You always put me down. You always made me feel like I did something wrong."
"That's just how I am," he says, shrugging his shoulders. "Don't take it personally."
"I do."
"That's not my problem, then."
Alumax places the bottom of the spear on the ground, leaning on it, resting his head. He looks at me, and I stare back at him, my hands still shaking. My whole body is shaking – his tone with me. His words. His actions. Everything he has ever done to me.
Everything I didn't do to him.
I never stuck up for myself. I never asked why he didn't talk to me. Why he didn't like me.
I just accepted it. I let it get to me.
I can't let it get to me anymore. I have to do something – for once in my life, I have to do something.
"I'm more than aware of how this ends, Alumax," I say firmly, tensing up, but it's from anger. It's not my own self-pity or sadness. It's anger – towards him, towards Claire, towards everyone whoever doubted me. Whoever walked all over me. Towards everyone who treated me like I am worthless. "We fight. One of us dies."
"Or, we could just both walk away."
"You don't want that," I reply, my voice nearly becoming a shout. "You would've been gone already. You want to win, don't you?"
"What kind of question is that?" He asks, a confused expression on his face. He stands back up, picking the spear up from the ground. "We all want to win. And, frankly, I'm willing to kill you to win. I'm willing to do whatever it takes."
"Kill me, Alumax. Kill me, then. Do what you have to do. Kill me."
"What is your problem?" He asks, and at this point, he looks uncomfortable. With what I'm saying, with how I'm acting. "What happened to you?"
At these words, though, I shudder, shaking my head. My hands begin to calm down, and I avert my eyes, staring out the window behind him. I continue to shake my head, knowing that I have changed. I am a different girl; it's because of Claire. It's because of Wren and her alliance. It's because of people like him.
I changed because of everyone else.
It was never my fault – the person who I used to be. That was simply because of my surroundings.
"We all want to win, right?" I say, echoing his words from before. "That's what happened to me."
Alumax hesitates to respond, spinning the shaft of the spear in between the palms of his hands. He stares at me, then looks at the ground, then looks at the wall next to me, and then looks back at me. He shakes his head, his face bespeaking a sense of confusion.
If he wants to fight, then so do I.
If he wants to kill me, then I want to kill him.
Kill. The word makes me shudder, and I shake my head, refusing to let that stop me. I can kill him – I can. If I fight, I can kill him. If I want to survive, I can kill him. Just like I left Claire, I can kill him. I can overcome this.
I have to.
Alumax makes the first move. He side-steps, slowly raising his spear. I return the gesture, though, raising my knife and side-stepping. He raises an eyebrow, and I stare back at him, not letting him make the first move. Not letting him take advantage of me. Not letting him get the upper-hand.
I'm going to survive.
I'm not going to die.
He makes another movement. This time, he steps forward, gently poking the spear out towards me. It doesn't come near me, but I hold my knife up, and as I watch him take another step forward, I react. I step to the side again, and before I can really think it through, I take a few more steps forward.
Impulsively, I swing my knife, unsure of what I can really do with it. I've never had to use it before. I've never had to fight before.
Everyone else always protected me. They always were the ones to hold the weapons, to do all the fighting.
Things have changed, though. I have changed.
Alumax jumps back, and I notice his facial expression – he looks shocked. As if he can't believe what I'm doing. As if he never thought I had it in me. As if he thought that… That I would never make it this far. That I could never fight.
I swing my knife again, trying to aim it lower this time. It grazes over his chest, and he flicks his spear upwards, the end of it knocking against my chin. I grit my teeth, and I step back, slowly lowering my head, trying to avoid cracking it. I take a deep breath, looking at Alumax as he raises his spear for another attack.
"I never wanted to kill you, Cailen," he says, jabbing it forwards, and I stand up on my heels, jumping to the side. From my side, I swing my knife again, and this time, it slices his upper-arm. He recoils, drawing his spear back and shaking his shoulders. "I really don't."
I say nothing, swiping it again, and again, and again. I keep repeating the same motion, and after a while, I get the hang of it. It might be sloppy, and it might be missing every time, but it's doing something. I'm finally doing something.
He takes a step back, tripping over his spear shaft, and he catches himself, thrusting the spear forwards. I hold my breath as I dodge this time, and with a grunt, I lunge forwards, wielding my knife. He throws me off of him easily, and with one last desperate attack, I kick my feet out, knocking him right in the jaw.
"Shit!" He says, swinging his arms out in front of him, and I land on my back, biting down on my tongue so I don't scream. He sees me lying on the ground, and he runs forward, meeting my foot again. I kick him in the stomach, and then I retract it, kicking him again the groin. "Cailen!"
"No," I spit out, kicking him another time. He hunches over, and I grab my knife, and although he still has his spear, I approach him. I get closer, and before he can stand back up, I raise my knife. But, before I do anything, I stare at him. I stare at him as he's hunched over, mumbling something to himself, and holding his spear.
I stare at him before I kill him.
Before I do what I have to do. Before I do what no one has expected me to do.
Before I do what no one thought I could do.
"I'm sorry," I say, my voice quivering. I shake my head, and with every ounce of energy I have in me, I bring down my knife, aiming for his neck. The knife makes contact, and I wince, the feeling of the knife cutting through bone and skin making me feel sick. I let go of the knife, my hands shaking, and I shake my head again, choking on my own words. "I… I'm sorry, Alumax… I had to do it…"
Alumax chokes on his own blood, and he falls forward, his face implanting on the ground. He drops his spear, and before his cannon sounds, his hand twitches. His fingers sprawl out, and I look over his body, my hands still shaking. I bring my hands up to my mouth, muffling my own heavy breathing.
I had to do it.
I had to kill him.
District partner or not, I had to kill him.
If I want to win, I had to kill him.
He might have had his own reasons to win. He might have had his own family and friends. His own life.
But, so do I. I have all of that, all of those reasons to win – and I'm willing to protect it. I'm willing to fight for it all. I'm willing to do it for myself.
It's not about him.
It's about me.
District Ten, Tasha Levelle – Placed 7th
District Eleven, Alumax Derian – Placed 6th
Author's Note:
Hi, hey, hello.
So, there's Day Seven with two more deaths. Now, we are down to our Final Five, and there are only four more deaths to go (obviously), until the victor is crowned. Not that many Games chapters left. I'll try to get the next one out within the week or so.
Two questions for this chapter:
Who is one tribute that has died that you wished survived?
If you have to replace one living tribute with one dead tribute, who would it be?