Demons.

When you feel my heat, look into my eyes, it's where my demons hide.

Alto Boulevard, District Eleven Male.

A whole day has gone since Koel died. Me and Addilyn didn't feel right about leaving him there alone. We waited from afar as the metal teeth picked him and Four up, one after the other, and later that night, both of their faces beamed onto the roof. Four's mysterious persona and Koel, standing tall and grinning from ear to ear, not a care in the world. That was Koel. Always smiling despite everything.

No other cannons have sounded and no other screams have been heard. The first day we've been here where someone hasn't died. We walk slowly along the walkway,

"Alto, y-you need to sit down."

Everything suddenly feels so heavy, like I'm almost drowning, cinderblocks tied to my feet as the river water rises.

Addilyn places her hands on my shoulders, lowering me to the floor. She's shaken, her hands clearly jittering as she fumbles in the backpack for something. She pulls out a piece of food, though I don't know what, slowly pushing it past my lips until I finally take it. I chew, trying my hardest to ignore the smell of burned flesh filling the air, making everything seem so repulsive.

"She got burned, too," Addilyn finally says after a while, referring to Four, probably. "I think it got infected. It might be something on the meteor."

Her tiny finger points to the welting burn that sits just underneath my shorts. I never noticed it before, but now it's been pointing out, I can't help but notice the tiny twinge of pain that slowly draws out. After a while, it becomes more numb and heavy.

"B-B-B-" I try to make a word, but it fails.

"I-I don't know what to do," Addilyn mumbles, a well-known fear placed in her eyes, obscured by her blonde hair. "I-I can't save you."

My lips feel parched and cracked. I run my tongue over them, which feels fuzzy, but I still strain my eyes on the girl in front of me. The girl who ironically saved me from being alone. I came here and was determined to not ally myself, and if I had to, then I wanted an alliance founded upon handiness and abilities, not attachment. Attachment isn't something I'm used to. Back home, I get to see my parents once a year during Harvest. Being young and white-skinned, I was separated from my parents because they were elderly, useless, whilst I was fit and ready to be trained in the art of a Scarecrow.

When I see them, it's like looking at different people.

They look different every year; always wearing a different mask of emotions for us. They stay quiet, they don't hug us, they don't really interact as much as they should. Sometimes, I feel like it could be that they feel guilty over their children's lives.

A scream bubbles and bursts from my throat as another wave of pain washes over me. I watch as Addilyn plucks a water bottle from the bag before ripping a piece of her top off, revealing her pale stomach. She soaks the cloth by tipping the entire bottle of water over it, leaning over and dabbing the exposed burn on my thigh. I hiss from the cold meeting the hot, but it soothes. Not much, but enough to not scream in pain each time she dabs the cloth. Each little press gains a gurgled cry from me and a soft, comforting smile from Addilyn.

I never expected us to get this far, come to think of it. At the end of the day, kids are age and from the districts we were born and bred from just don't produce Victors or survivors. Eleven is classed as an outlying district alongside Nine, Ten and Twelve. Losers in their own aspect, barely producing worthy tributes. Three, well, Three are always underrated.

The pain subsides until Addilyn takes the cloth away. This time, though, it comes as fast and hard as when I first got burned.

A scream launches itself from my throat.

Addilyn looks startled, and when I manage to blink back the tears and blurriness, I glance down to my burn. Now, green foam and puss begins to mar the burn and smother it. It looks painful, but surprisingly, the power of the burn still overpowers it.

"We've been here exactly a week," Addilyn says, probably trying to make me forget the pain. "A whole seven days. Well, yesterday was the seventh day."

"D-D-Doesn't feel like it."

Addilyn nods in response. We sit there in silence for a moment before Addilyn scoots away. I can sense the fear radiating off her like the animals back in Eleven, when their wary eyes met tip of my arrow, poised in the bow. She's scared of me. Truly scared.

She would be, though. Who says the infection isn't what drove Four insane?

I never thought about that. The infection could have overpowered Four's mind and sent her insane. Then, she found us and decided to kill the boy who happened to be vulnerable compared to the boy with the bow and the girl with the wires.

He was easy pickings. You wanted to come out alive, Alto, and now you've let your heart win.

It's been a while since I allowed my heart to rule my head. Only Inuka ever done that, until she ran away. Addilyn and Koel somehow managed to do the same to me, with their elusive personalities and kind manners, open attitudes and warm hearts.

When I look at Addilyn, though, she's split in two. Her body shakes and warps, fuzzy and blurred around the edges. The only thing that stays completely prominent is the bright hair. Her trademark bleach locks. She looks at me confusingly until the hair begins to change shape. The colour disappears, replaced by a forest green colour. At first it looks like hair, but then, it begins to hiss and snip, beady eyes protruding from the ends. Addilyn's face, once pale and kind, turns scaly and gruesome, sharp shark teeth shooting out from her gums. I blink a few times to try and make sense of what is happening, but Addilyn is no more. Addilyn has been replaced by something else.

Maybe she was always like that. I don't know. I try to stagger back, her reptile face tilting to the side. Panic overwhelmes every part of my body. I try to grab my bow, but it seems so far away, like an animal running. My heart rate quickens as I claw the ground, Reptile-Addilyn standing to her feet, still staring at me with the many, beady eyes in her hair.

I manage to get to my feet and grab my bow and arrow.

I spin around lightning quick, ignoring the sweat that runs down my forehead and past my eyes, and unleash the arrow. It flies through the air and Reptile-Addilyn doesn't have much time to react. It lands directly in her shoulder.

It's going to hurt you, Alto, so do it. Kill it quickly.

"Alto, please, d-d-don't."

It stands there, swaying from side to side. "Don't try to m-move monster."

It doesn't respond, but the snakes screech and spit at me angrily. It steps back, ready to try and use a ploy against me. I run forward, though, and it spins around. Reptile-Addilyn tries to run away, but I won't allow it to take over my friend. It doesn't deserve to be in her body, controlling her. I catch up, and with a thrust, I tackle the creature to the ground, ignoring the screech and trail of slime.

"A-A-Alto."

It's going to hurt you! Kill it now!

I struggle to slip an arrow from my holster, bringing it forth and preparing to stamp it down on the monster's forehead. I'm doing this for Addilyn. I'm doing it to save her. She's too kind and quiet to be taken over so easily. The Gamemakers won't get away with it. They won't get to mutilate her features and turn her into something else. This is for her.

The facial features begin to morph.

Do it now!

The scales disappear and the snakes fall off the hair and slither away. Pale features, kind eyes and blonde hair returns.

"Addilyn?" I mumble, shaken by what's happened.

But then it snaps back to the horrified creature. It was a rouse. I go to bring the arrow down when seering pain travels through my body, making my insides feel like they're being cooked from the inside out. I feel weak, falling off of the creature. Everything begins to go dark as Addilyn, the real Addilyn, climbs into view. Tears streak her face and she places a kiss to my forehead.

"I-I-I-I'm s-sorry."

A loud cannon rings out as the pain subsides.

Cameron Flinch, District Five Female.

The newest cannon shakes the arena, Gavan's hand tightening around mine through reflex. I instantly turn to him and register the same look of sorrow and desperation that happened once Jack and Mirana's deaths had sunken in. A crackle of static wavers through the air almost straight after, Claudius no doubt ready to announce what I've expected from him this whole time. My heart hammers in my chest and Gavan's grip only tries to encourage me to calm down.

I don't even know why I'm scared, truth be told. One moment I feel fine, like I could handle this, and then the next, I feel like another step could cause my body to just crumble beneath my feet.

"Well done to the remaining tributes of the 66th Hunger Games! For your participation, we are holding a feast! Each of you needs something desperately, and each of you will find that something within a backpack marked with your district number by the Cornucopia. Think about it, my dear tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

The voice evaporates as quickly as it appeared, and a sigh of relief escapes my body.

"You okay?" Gavan asks quietly.

I turn to him, ignoring the small fire of rage in my body that wants to smack him for such a stupid comment. "Peachy. I'm not looking forward to what is about to happen."

"The feast?"

"Correct," I sigh once more, standing from our sitting position on the floor. "The remaining tributes will all head there, you, me and the other three. Which, no doubt, will include two Careers."

"That only leaves the little girl from Three and the boy from Eleven... Do you think one of them has died?"

"Probably," I shrug, trying not to think of a little child, splattered and cold, laid out on the fall of the arena alone. "I wouldn't say a Career fell just yet. They've been dropping like flies lately and the boys from One and Two seemed the most dangerous."

Gavan pauses for a moment before joining me at my side. His hand rests timidly on my shoulder, his fear of germs no doubt taking place once more now that the chaos has calmed down. I wouldn't blame him. The tricks this arena can play are disturbing... One moment you feel like everything might be okay, you might be able to return, you might survive just another day - and then, meteors of fire rain down, giant spiders go on the attack and smoke fills the air. I grip the hatchet a little bit harder, making sure it stays away from Gavan but is ready to be swung and thrown if needed.

"Should we go?"

"What do we need?" I laugh dark. "They've taken everything from us besides our lives. Unless it's a key to unlock the arena, we don't need it."

Gavan frowns slightly. "Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," I sigh once more. "I'm just... On edge at the moment. And I don't know which way I'm going to fall just yet."

"Then don't fall."

"You make it sound easy, Gavan."

"It is," Gavan reassures me, spinning me around with his hands on my shoulders. He flinches when he sees the hatchet, but maintains a strong hold. "You need to remember that it's a game we play. Only one winner and, to play the game, you need a clear head."

"Once again proving my point that one of us is sane whilst the other is close to breaking point," I chuckle quietly, trying not to allow the emotions to slip out; a single tear does, though. "I don't know how much longer I can cope with this all."

"Four more tributes to die. That's how longer."

The way Gavan says it, though, it's like he's already given up himself. The four tributes to die includes him, and he's almost certain that he will die and I will be the Victor. I could die. Gavan could die. We both could die and a Career, like many years, will claim the title for themselves. The boy from Two is strong but lacks the evil whereas the brute from One is strong and evil, but lacks brains.

"We need to go down there. They just smoked us out... They aren't going to let us avoid the beloved feast now."

"I know," I nod in return, wiping the tear away with a gentle swipe. "I do know. I guess we should do it then. Because, you know that this is the end, right?"

"End of what?"

I manage to find another laugh once more. "The end of it all. Rarely do Games last beyond the feast. It's basically bloodbath number two."

"So our glorious winner will be announced in a short moment then," Gavan's head dips a little, no doubt the reality of things catching up to him a lot faster than he anticipated. "Well, we haven't go that much to lose."

"We have everything," I say without a second thought. "But, you know, c'est la vie."

We begin to walk out of the shop, window smashed to shards, looking out finally to see the sky, orange and pink, a false sunset ready to fall. It almost looks peaceful and quaint compared to the ash covered ground, poisoned air and constant smell of burning rock. A true contrast indeed. We slowly move across the dirty walkway, amazed by the amount of glass that litters the ground. Gavan steps on a piece, crying into his fist.

"Did it really hurt you?" I whisper, for some reason becoming worried about the others being nearby.

"No," Gavan admits. "It was just sharp, that's all."

"You're losing it again."

"No I'm not."

I huff, scooting past the last shop, dipping my foot down onto the step. Luckily, the steps, covered and protected, didn't get damaged whatsoever. We creep down quietly, me with a weapon and Gavan with his crazy. Not the perfect combination, but then again, our alliance was more domesticated rather than threatening. A pang of remorse stretches through my body over Jack and Mirana once more, but I try to hide it for now as we climb down more stairs.

Later, I can grieve.

Now, I must kill.

Garnet Stone, District One Male.

The sunset quickly evaporates into the sky, leaving it black, dotted with white stars. Around the glass, though, black smoke piles up. I watch with fascinated eyes as the smoke just molds into the glass and begins to disappear on it's own. Almost like a vent, but not a vent. A smile forms on my face at what I just thought up.

It's true what they say; people do change over time.

People have always assumed I'm some dumb Career, capable of using a sword but unable to do math. They are partially true, I'm more brawn than brains, but that doesn't make me an idiot. If someone is about to kill you, what will help you, being able to fight back or doing math? Numbers might be great but they aren't going to deflect a sword or thrown knife. Muscle needs to be able to do that, and well, that's why I'm here and a lot of the other tributes aren't.

The anthem blares, taking me out of my thoughts.

The only face to pop up is the little boy from Eleven who shot Delaney twice with arrows.

That only leaves me, Theo, the girl from Three and the little allies from Five and Six. Outlying districts no longer have a contender to take food home for them. I swing my sword, a held laugh erupting from my throat. It's been quite a few days now; eight to be exact. I doubt anyone would have cared to actually count each passing day, but I did, trying my hardest to cement the memories of my Games.

I spin the sword again, but it falls out my hand and falls to the floor, metal ringing out. The dried blood of my last victim, Ten, is stained on the end, red tendrils creeping up the blade.

My goal is to get four other tendrils to crawl up it. Four other victims to add to my plenty.

I've probably killed the most in here. Funny how that happens. Everyone assumed I wasn't capable of it, and now, I've proved them all wrong. If only I could watch them laugh. I stop, heart beating loud, when I hear the faint sound of footsteps, about two, slowly creeping across the floor. I throw myself against the wall, sword poised, ears alert. The steps continue to patter, one after the other, proving to be two sets of feet.

Five and Six, probably, since that is the only alliance I can remember from who is left.

I tilt my head to the side when I see two distinct shadows underneath the false moonlight. Neither notice me pressed against the hollow hole that was once a window. They were nothing but simple glass to leave everything up and to leave everyone vulnerable. Now, they don't exist - nothing but shattered glass. This one wasn't even hit by a meteor, the shop next door was, and the vibrating or something must have took this one down too.

Five and Six begin to near closer, and you can't miss the flash of silver reflected from the moon. So, the girl is carrying a weapon.

This'll make it more fun.

Streams of light touch my foot, but leave the rest of me pressed into the shadows.

They get closer. My sword twitches in my hand, ready to strike, just waiting to kill another.

Then, they're almost on top of me.

"Gavan, I think we should go down to there and then g-"

My sword, with a mind of its own, flicks out at a frightening speed. I smile as I feel the pressure around the tip, metal piercing flesh, followed by a scream. I yank the blade out, the boy from Six staggering back and holding a hand to the hole cut deep into his upper thigh. Blood pours out quickly, dripping ominously against the floor, and the girl from Five just screams. Screams aloud. But not terrified and most definitely not from being scared.

It's a guttural, animal scream.

A fighter's scream.

Demons by Imagine Dragons.

The blog for this story is - glasshousehungergames . blogspot. com - just take out the spaces. Deaths will be notified there.

Alto Boulevard, District Eleven.

Sorry to the submitters that lost their tribute. In all honest, these were the tributes I struggled to write and connect too, and in all fairness, I couldn't keep them around and constantly struggle throughout. Please stick around, but if you don't, that's fine. These are the Hunger Games and this is how it works.

Again, I'm sorry.

Since there is no points system now, a question might be asked sometimes that I would love for you to answer.

Our final five are announced; Garnet, Theo, Addilyn, Cameron and Gavan. Who do you want to make final three and who do you think will make final three?

All deaths will be based on realism, favoritism, and whether or not the submitter is reading the story (obviously, reviews let me know this). Each decision is painstakingly hard, but must be done. Another factor will be whether or not I see a future for your tribute, or whether I can write more and more for them.

Moonlight, your tributes have always fascinated and amazed me. Alto's backstory was just pure genius. I loved him so much.

Two more Games chapters! Whose excited?

Okay, discussing Alto's death, I understand it will be confusing to understand and read. Lorelei didn't want to attack the littles - she made that clear. But she was the scream, burned by the rock, and inside the rock happens to be a poison similar to Tracker Jacker poison that causes hallucinations. Lorelei attacked under the poison. Alto, burned similar, attacked Addilyn under the same pretenses.

Yeah, so, it was confusing because in my mind, it would have confused Alto.

New layout, too! Who likes it? :D also, apologies for the delay, it was so hard to decide on deaths and such. :'(