Quick Note: The part with Annie's POV is more about her story than anything, so don't be mad at me if it diverts from the plot.

Ariel's POV

I shakily pull my harpoon from the dead girl's head. Even though she has dark skin, it isn't dark enough to hide the blood flowing from her mouth and nose, which increases once my weapon is out of her head.

"Fast reflexes, Fishy," says Garnet.

"Not fast enough."

We all turn to Aid, who is still cradling Scalpel's limp body in her arms, multiple knife wounds in his chest and torso.

"That bitch came out of nowhere," says Garnet. "She blended with the wall."

The cave we are in is very dark. The gem-light-things don't even shine very brightly here.

"Wh-what," I stutter. "What do we do with the bodies?"

Closing her brother's lifeless eyes, Aid shrugs and says, "Maybe we need to bring them outside."

Garnet pulls the girl's body through the water while Aid clings to Scalpel's waist. Sapphire and I follow, our vision obscured by the blood leaking from both bodies.

Although the blood has washed off my harpoon and fingers, I still tremble. The first tribute I killed. She looked my age, even as she leaped from the shadows and attached Scalpel. But when I shot her, her frightened eyes… she looked like a child.

The outside opens up to us, the clear water distorting the light against the rocks. Garnet pushes away the girl's body and swims away from it, and we wait for Aid to let go of Scalpel. She is still for a long time, hovering in the water for a long time. She slowly lets go of his waist and watches as he slowly floats away.

She finally swims away a good distance before we turn back to see a submarine, which I doubt the other tributes know anything about. It pulls the bodies into its metal encasing, and propels out of sight. The closest thing to home, the submarine, and it is here to collect the spawn of these Games, death.

"Let's go back to camp," says Garnet through his mask. We follow him back and eat some of the food the girl had in her bag. She has a knife, which everyone says I should have since I was the one that killed her. I take it silently and stuff it in my belt. It is more like dagger, double edged and pointed at the end, but the handle is more that of a kitchen knife.

For the rest of the day there are no deaths. The booming of the Capitol anthem lets us know it is evening, that and Garnet's pocket watch.

The faces of all three dead tributes are projected by the light of the gems. First Scalpel's face appears, his hair still streaked with red dye. His green eyes still look mischievous and cunning, like his sister, and then he vanishes forever.

Next, the old man from District 7 that Sapphire found and killed this morning appears and disappears.

Finally, the girl that killed Scalpel, who apparently was from District 11 appears. She is actually really pretty with her hair, right down to the roots, braided along her scalp and down her neck. I think it is a common hairstyle in District 11. There is not much time to study her any further because her face is replaced by the Capitol seal and then the anthem plays again.

They're gone forever. It is very quiet, and even when Aid offers to take the first watch, her voice lacks that edge it normally has, despite her expressionless face.

I still avoid the tent and sleep outside. The sound of the water dripping from the ceiling lulls me to sleep.

I dream of Scalpel being attacked and me shooting the girl, over and over. As soon as the girl falls, it is as if it rewinds and replays. I keep pulling the trigger, and the harpoon always hits the girl square in the forehead.

When I wake up, I see Aid is still watching. I might as well take the next shift.

"Hey, Aid," I whisper. "You can go to sleep now. I'll take over."

She doesn't look at me. Her puffy red eyes are fixed at the wall. She holds Scalpel's belt of knives tightly to her chest, running her thumb along one long blade.

"Aid?"

"Sure," she mutters, standing up. I have to fix this.

"Look, Aid, I'm sorry I couldn't save your brother in time. I tried, I just-"

"Save it, Fishy."

She picks up the backpack she was leaning against and goes over to the opposite side of the tent and lies with her back facing me.

I think I may have a potential enemy.

Annie's POV

Finnick is asleep now. I sit up in bed watching the late night recap of the Games. I know I'm not supposed to watch them alone, but I can't sleep, as usual. There hasn't been much action from Mako lately or they would have showed him. The careers, however, have already killed two people today. They lost one too. It was actually kind of funny to watch Enobaria blow up at the television. I guess Scalpel was one of the best fighters she had had in a long time, even since the 74th Games when her male tribute almost won. If it weren't for the muttations and the victor from 12's archery skills, he probably would have won.

I also remember that year when our boy, Swell, died in the bloodbath and we never heard the end of it. And then of course our girl, Aqua-Jewel, or A.J. as she liked to be called, was killed by a swarm of tracker jackers. That was not a good year for us.

Another thing that keeps me awake is the voices in my head. Yes, I have voices. I've had them ever since I won the Games. They are the voices of my fellow tributes in the arena, of my partner, before he was decapitated. My body goes into a sudden shock when the memory comes up and I start to twitch violently, uncontrollably. My twitching only reminds me more of how different I am from everyone else, how non-deserving of the victor's crown I am.

As I watch the tributes swim through the current arena I remember the arena I was in. My mind flashes back to it as I go into a seizure...

There are five tributes left, two careers, the 6 girl, the 9 boy, and the 12 boy. I have not kept track of the deaths until now. I am hiding away, tired, hungry, and crazy. The desert provides very little protection. I have already been attacked by a snake, but thankfully I was able to smash its head with a rock.

I am still sitting here, holding the bloody rock, in a fetal position, trying to staunch the constant voice of my dead fellow tribute, when I hear a loud rumble, then a crash, and the sound of rushing water brings me to my feet. I look behind me to see that the dam at the very end of the arena had completely burst, sending a sea of water into the desert of an arena. The boy from 9 is running towards me but we are both swept away by the rushing currents that stir up the sandy arena. I hold my breath for as long as I can until I can reach the surface. Once I am up I gulp in the air.

As far as the eye can see is water, no more land, and just rushing water. The boy, who was at one point just in front of me, has hit the force field at the end of the arena and a few moments later the canon sounds. I can see another figure flailing madly in the current before being pulled under, whether by undertow or lack of swimming skills, I will never know. About a minute later, another canon sounds. I can only assume it was the tribute I had just seen. I turn up on my belly and float for a long time, trying to conserve energy. For a moment, I feel as if I am back in District 4, floating among the waves. The water plugs my ears and I can only hear my heartbeat. I don't even hear the other canons as they go off one by one.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Sixty-Fourth Hunger Games, Annie Lamprey! I give you- the tribute of District 4!"

The last thing I remember, is being scooped up into the hovercraft and nearly clawing the eyes out of a nurse who is trying to clean me. I tell them about the voices, over and over, and they inject me with something that knocks me out.

"Annie, Annie! Come on, it's alright, calm down."

Finnick's warm hold on me and concerned voice brings me from my seizure and I bury my face into his bare chest, crying hysterically. I cry because of my nightmares, and I cry for our current tributes, in a similar nightmare of that I had to face.

A/N: Don't hate me for that. I really wanted to write a section for Annie. I may even start her own series, or someone else's. I never know until my creative juices start flowing.