Enjoy! It's a little short but whatever. Really good plan for this stroy! Hopefully I can update soon! (:

Chloe DeBenedetto

The sky is still dark - it's very early, about five in the morning. There are six of us left, Marvel, Cato, and I - the Careers, both from 11, and Bakerboy. One more kill, and the Career Pack is history. We're sitting on a log around the fire, the open air from the field refreshing.

"Who's next?" I yawn due to lack of sleep. I search for Cato's hand in the dimness and find it, holding it tightly.

"Chloe," Cato says seriously. "We can't do this anymore."

I look up at him, his face dark. Marvel shakes his head. "He's right. Hunger Games romances are doomed."

"I knew you didn't ever love me, Cato," I say, straightening my jacket, making sure my knives were still in there. I grab my backpack which contains a pack of beef, some extra knives, night vision goggles, and some rope.

Tears well up in my eyes, but they can't tell. It's too dark. I lean over and give Cato one last kiss on the cheek, and stride over to Marvel and give him a hug, rubbing his back.

"Good luck," my voice is cracking - they can tell I'm crying now. "May the odds be ever in your favor," with that, I start sprinting towards the woods, the backpack draped over my arm. I can hear their footsteps behind me, but like I told you before, I'm a fast runner.

"She's strong, man," I hear Marvel tell Cato. "She'll be okay."

Running. I've been running for at least an hour, my chest burning, heaving. I collapse on the floor, passing out, the darkness comforting, the cool wind feeling good against my hot skin.

I wake up and the sun is high. I'm tied to a tree, the ropes tight. How did I get here? I'm hyperventilating now; being tied up was always a big weakness for me. Minutes later, leaves crunch. Someone's approaching.

"Good morning, princess," It's Peeta Mellark. How? Why? He would never kill me, though, he doesn't have it in him. Only a Career would do something like this! He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a knife, taking a step closer to me, dragging it across my cheek. I can feel a thin line of blood form on my cheek.

"Why are you doing this?" I hiss, hiding my fear. I'm helpless now, I'm not used to this.

"I'll answer that when you tell me why your boyfriend killed Katniss."

"Did you really expect her to live?" I growl. "Come on, Mellark -"

He slaps me in the face. It stings. "Please, Peeta. Let me go!"

"No!" Peeta shouts. "Cato killed my lover, now I'll kill his!"

"Cato!" I cry. "Cato!"

"He's not coming for you, DeBenedetto," Peeta grins. "He doesn't care."

"Yes he does," I say weakly while he traces patterns lightly with the knife on my leg. "I love him," That was the first time I expressed my love for him; people in District 2 never said or used the word 'love.' It just didn't happen. "Cato! Please!"

He digs the knife into my leg, and I scream in pain. The gash is deep, the pain unexplainable.

It feels like we've been out at sea.

So back and forth, that's how it seems.

And when I wanna talk, you say to me;

If it's meant to be, it will be.

I know it's meant to be. He has to come and save me. "Cato! He's going to kill me!"

"Face it, Chlo. He doesn't care if you die!"

"Peeta… why… you were never this vicious… I'm going to be your first kill…" I sob.

"When you mess with Katniss," he explains, "I'll be as ruthless as I have to be."

Once again, the knife cuts my inner leg. It's all so sudden: the knife drops to the ground, buried by the leaves.

"What the fuck do you think your doing?" the voice that I love so much fills the air. Peeta is hoisted off the ground and Cato bangs him into the nearest tree. He falls unconscious, but not dead.

"Cato!" He cuts the rope with his sword and I fall into his open arms, delicate like a flower. "I thought I was going to die," I can't control my crying, and I know he thinks I'm a wimp. I shouldn't be a Career.

"I do love you, Chloe," he hugs me.

"Where's Bakerboy?" Marvel's thundering voice interrupts. I can feel Cato's head turn to where Peeta was slammed into the tree. He's gone.

Cato says we'll talk about it later when my wounds are treated. We soon arrived back by the Cornucopia, and he lays me down on a blanket. "Rest," he commands and kisses my lips sweetly and pulls away shortly after.

"More," I beg, but he says I need to sleep. It's about six o'clock at night now, the sun is not as bright.

"I think it's time to split," Marvel tells us.

"No, Marvel," we had gotten to be pretty good friends, and I didn't want him to be killed. He was thin and lanky, yes, strong, but that District 11 boy could easily murder him. "Stay."

"Your dismissed, Marvel," Cato grumbles, a bit jealous.

"No, please Marvel?" I say, grabbing his arm so he can't get up. My grip is weak. "You said you would stay until one more death…"

"I'm sorry, Chloe," at this point, he's picking up his spear and backpack and stalking towards the woods. "Good luck, guys."

"Hey, Marvel!" Cato yells, infuriated. "You took the rest of our food!"

"I'm sorry, dude. But I gotta eat, too," Marvel shrugs and races off into the evening. Cato shakes his head, but he knows it's pointless to try and go after him.

"He's gonna die," Cato finally laughs, reaching into his backpack to pull out different creams and bandages.

"Cato…" I'm tired now, it's been a long day. He gets a package of crackers out of the pack and offers me all of them. I take one, sheepishly. "I want to go home."

"Me too, Chlo. The faster we kill, the faster we go ho -"

A cannon?

"We'll find out who it is in a couple hours," he says, pulling the blanket over himself, wrapping his arm around me.

Seneca Crane

I grin at Terra, second-in-charge, almost like my secretary. Her perfectly manicured fingernails stab the computer, changing the view of all the Tributes left. She lets the camera linger a little longer on Chloe DeBenedetto and Cato Vindisi.

"Should I release the Aedes aegpyti mosquito into the Arena?" she asks me intently. The remaining Tributes' fate depends on my answer right here and now.

Unleashing the Aedes aegpyti would result in the spread of yellow fever, a deadly disease if not treated. Not that the antidote can be found in the Arena - you'd have to be sponsored.

"Release the pestilence," I tell Terra, smirking. I know at least a few will die due to this 'epidemic.'

Let the suffering begin.

Cato Vindisi

"Is it a rash?" I ask Chloe, who is scratching and itching her arms, swatting around her face every now and then. "Here, take some ointment."

"Thanks," she stammers and rubs it all over her body. It's currently seven o'clock. The Anthem of Panem plays every night at twelve.

Chloe suddenly starts to spasm, her limbs twitching uncontrollably. "Chloe!" I sit her down in my lap and comfort her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm just tired, but it's fine," she shakes it off. "Let's go hunting."

"Okay," I say reluctantly. Something's not right, I can tell. We pick up our backpacks and weapons and set off into the darkness.

"Oh, my God," the beautiful blonde next to me calls my attention. She points to the ground and there lies the body of Marvel in several pieces. "Oh, my God," she repeats.

"Why didn't the hovercraft take him?" I ask.

"Oh, my God!" Chloe's crying now, tears running down her eyes. "Marv -!"

She doubles over in pain, throwing up, the scent of blood filling the air.

"I feel sick…" Chloe faints before I can catch her.

DEATH REPORTS

DISTRICT 1 MALE [MARVEL LIMESTON]
Cut up by Thresh's sword

1 KILL FOR THRESH

Death toll: 19 (5 Tributes left in the Games by end of fourth day)