Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. It's doooooneeeee. The Gaaaammmmesss. I can't believe it but it is! I'm going to have one more chapter after this with the victor's POV and then I will be starting my next SYOT! I still need a handful more tributes, so I'll be posting a prologue to the next Games so I can get new submitters and readers to come in. If you have any reserved tributes, please try and get them in soon.

Here we go! Eeeeeee.

D12- 18- (Krumr Strongthews)

The final day in the arena is a blaze of glory for that Hunger Games' victor. It's the final showdown, the only one that, in the end, matters. One person emerges from the ashes of their fellow tributes with their weapon held high and dripping with blood, and most of the time it's not without a few scars mentally and physically. I will be the one to hold my axe high and cheer for myself as I flip off the outside world. I will be the one to fight a rebellion just in winning. I won't have any more mental damage coming out than I came in with. I will be victorious. I will be my own. I will win and I will go home and I will drink so much liquor that I pass out for days.

Carlyn looks over at me with widened eyes. Usually when she hears tributes she grins and tells me it's killing time, so I know it can't be that. Even the Careers would excite her—so what is it? She stands up and I grab her wrist tightly so she can't run off for whatever reason. But she struggles against my tight grip so I wrap my arms around her to keep her in place.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yell at her. "Stop it!"

"It's my mom," she says, kicking and throwing her arms around. "Mom! Dad!"

"What? What are you talking about, Carlyn?" I snap.

"It's my mom!" she screams. "Don't you hear it? That's her voice! She's calling for help, Krumr!"

I listen for a second as she continues to writhe in my arms. I hear a distant scream that could be "Help!" and oddly enough, it does sound like an older woman. I frown, and then it dawns on me and I roll my eyes. "It's a jabberjay, idiot," I say.

Carlyn looks up at me with wild eyes, twisting so her head faces me. The crazy look in her eyes fades and she calms down, no longer trying to get away from me savagely. I'm just glad she didn't draw her knife. I let go of her and shake my head at her, the idiot. How could she not know that that was a jabberjay? That trick has been played so many times, dating back to… What? It was one of the Classic Games. It had to be at least the Sixtieth. And the most notable time after that was the Seventy-fifth. After that, and after the second rebellion, it became old news, but it was still used sometimes later in the Games because the tributes with the most or at least a little bit of mental strain believed it, and it was entertaining as well as heartbreaking for the Capitol each time they saw it, or so I assume.

"It sounded just like her," she whispered, shaking her head. She sat down on the ground. "I'm sorry, Krumr. I'm still attached to my parents."

"Unlike me," I grunted.

She nodded. "Unlike you."

D2- 16- (Stone Zhunder)

Sleeping in a Career camp is the utmost form of saying "I trust you," and it's one of the riskiest things to do in the Games. You are laying your life down on the table for these few bloodthirsty killers determined to do one thing and one thing only in life: be the victor. These are the most competitive souls you will ever have contact with, and these are the cruelest. So to sleep in the camp of a few of them is like wearing a meat outfit in front of a hungry, vicious animal. Therefore, in the final six, sleeping in their camp is like a death sentence—unless they're stupid.

At first that's what I assume: these Careers are the stupid ones. I decide, before they wake up to take advantage of that. No one took watch after it was my turn last night, or if they did they fell asleep because I can hear the rhythmic breathing of the tributes around me. But then I hear one set of breathing stop, and the killer hops back into place, crunching a twig as they do. A cannon boom sounds into the arena. My eyes jerk open and I sit up.

Azaleigh isn't moving, while Gleam is up, her eyes wide. "What happened?" she asks me frantically. "Do you know? Did you see?"

I narrow my eyes and let out a short laugh. "Like you don't know. I'm not stupid either." I draw out a knife and make sure she clearly sees it. "Is it time to end the Careers, Gleam?"

"What are you talking about?" she says. "Do you think I killed her?"

"Damn right I do," I say. "And really, I don't blame you. But next time make sure you get away with it."

Gleam draws out her own knife, but I'm already ready to throw mine, and as I do, it spirals into her chest, hitting the mark perfectly. Gleam coughs up a bit of blood, dropping the knife, and then she collapses into the forest. Her cannon goes off, and I grab what I want from there stuff and begin to run away from the two dead bodies so hovercraft can pick them up.

I'm not an idiot. I wasn't going to die to keep an ally.

D12- 17- (Carlyn Hansen)

Krumr and I head off, away from the sound of the jabberjays. I block out the sound of my family until we're far away from it enough that the sound becomes nonexistent. Then I look at Krumr, bow slung over his shoulder, hand over his axe, and I think about winning these Games. Partnering up with this crazed man made it almost impossible, didn't it? Even if he does love me, which would be a miracle that I could hardly reciprocate—or could I?—he wouldn't die for me. He's not like that. At the same time, would the Capitol let him win?

Would he let himself?

"I hate you," I say, to start conversation.

He looks down at me, and the familiar distaste in his eyes hides a faint but visible layer of humanity, or at least an understanding of it. This man isn't a human; he's got too much rage and he's too insane and cruel. But I know that he gets humane people. He gets why they do this and why they do that, and that's why he's so cruel: he can see what will hurt his prey and he takes advantage of it. He can predict the next move of his victims. He can see easily through others' eyes. Maybe I have a better chance of winning, partnering up with him. I understand him, and I can see through his eyes. I can predict things he will do next. And that's how he kills, isn't it? It's how any hunter kills.

"You too, Car," he says with a great deal of indifference. "Are you ready for the battle? I don't need a dying ally to take care of. It'll be tedious to deal with you if you're wounded."

"You say that like I'm an animal," I say.

He shrugs. "People are superior to animals. I'm superior to people."

I roll my eyes. "Oh really."

He nods with a smile on his face. We hear a noise, and his bow is raised. He lets the arrow fly at the slightest movement we see, and down goes a deer, lying dead in the bushes. As we go by the corpse, Krumr pulls out the arrow.

"How do you think this is going to end?" I ask him.

He frowns. "What's that mean?"

"I mean, who do you think will win?" I say.

"Me," he replies immediately.

"And if I'm left alive once everyone else is dead—what will you do?"

He looks down at me. "Such a self-centered bitch." He swings the bow back over his shoulder. "You forget that I don't love you."

"I don't love you either, mindless jackass," I snap. And now that I know my place here with him, I know how to win.

A girl runs out of the clearing, her eyes darting everywhere madly. She spots us and grins, holding the knife in her hand close and pulling out another. It flies toward us, but, expecting it, I dodge and Krumr shields himself with his axe that he has now unsheathed. There is no conversation with this kill like there was for the death of the District Nine tributes. We are in the final four, and we're likely to be dealing with the last Career here.

I sneak away from the fight as Krumr pretends to be too weak for the girl, though he takes no injuries, not the slightest scrape from her. However, he has also yet to deliver a blow of his own. I slide to the back and find the time to plunge my knife into her back and yank it back out. As she falls to the ground, Krumr gets to work mutilating her, and she is hardly recognizable by the time he is done. Blood coats both of them, though he was already soaked in other tributes' blood.

"Nice," I say. "Let's go find that last person."

And, I think to myself, find a way to bring you down, Mr. Strongthews.

D7- 16- (Damien Andrews)

Without Decon tethering me to his version of sensibility, there's a sort of freedom allowed to my method of killing. I am quiet and sneaky and it's easier to move around with him telling me not to get involved in the affairs of the higher schemes in the Games. We were an Anti-Career group that wanted nowhere near the Careers. I took it upon myself, however, to put my work into action. I killed one of the remaining Careers and got out of the way in time for the last two to assume it was the other that killed her. They turned on each other and the girl from Two killed the girl from One.

And then there were three, I think.

I move north and hope that my opponents are moving southward towards me. Then I hear voices and I make myself blend into the trees, finding a bush to hide behind. I listen and pull my hatchet quietly from my belt, waiting for the right time to attack. These are Twelve tributes, and if the boy weren't so big and mighty, I would go so far as to say they would be easy pickings because of their district. Though the girl is feisty, without the boy she wouldn't stand a chance.

"Nice," I hear the girl say. "Let's go find that last person."

I hop up out of the bush seconds later, causing much more noise than I would have liked, and throw my hatchet at the girl. I shouldn't have. I'm not good at throwing it; I'm better at swinging it at my opponents. But surprisingly, it barely hits her stomach but when it does it buries down deep and she screams in pain, falling to the ground. She lets out an animalistic howl as the boy shrieks gutturally and frees my weapon of her flesh. He turns in my direction with a vicious growl and throws the hatchet at the tree I quickly duck behind. As he kneels next to his ally, I pull the hatchet out.

"Carlyn," he says, his jaw tightened. "Damn it, Carlyn, I'll cut you in half if you don't say something to me!"

"Self-centered bitch, am I?"I hear her croak as I slowly move from tree to tree, closer to the two of them while the boy is distracted. "My poor mindless jackass, win for me."

"Carlyn Hansen!" he screams. "I said get up. Don't close your eyes. Stop it!" He presses his hands to the wound in her stomach and yells, "I can stop it. I can stop the bleeding for you if you get up, I promise. You win, Car! You fucking win!"

But then her cannon goes off, and he turns toward me. The look in his eyes is by far the scariest thing I've ever seen. But I haven't given up yet.

D12- 18- (Krumr Strongthews)

I have never wanted to kill someone more than I do right now. The boy before me, the idiot, killed Carlyn Hansen, the one person that I almost—almost—cared about. And she is now gone, lost to the bloody axe in his hands. I approach him with my bow raised and say, "I'm not even giving you a fair fight, dickhead."

He laughs, a cowardly laugh, that of the boy that I am about to kill so cruelly and slowly that I will relive his cries for mercy for the rest of my life. I approached him and he smirked, raising his hatchet. But I knocked and let my arrow loose before he could even aim his axe. He got too cocky when he threw it at Carlyn; if he would've swung it at my bow, it would have gotten him time as I pulled out my axe and discarded my then useless bow. But he is not as smart and not as driven as I am.

The arrow his arm that he holds the hatchet with and he cries out, and while he's shuffling to take his hatchet in his other arm, I release another arrow into his other arm and he drops his hatchet onto his foot, making everything easier for me. I go at him like a vicious animal and stand over him, my eyes narrowed as I assess what a worthless piece of shit he is and how much torture he deserves. So I get down close to him and whisper in his ear, "You killed Carlyn. So I think I'll cut all your limbs off, and if I haven't bled to death by then, I'll cut your head off so your family hardly has anything but a bunch of pieces to bury."

He is whimpering with pain as I slowly saw off his feet and hands. I watch the blood flow into the grass and then go at his legs and arms, and when they've gone off and he is still alive, I laugh furiously and mercilessly as he shrieks like a little girl: "No, please! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Just let it end! This isn't fair!" His speech is garbled as he coughs and chokes on his spit, but he hasn't passed out from the pain yet.

"Nothing is fucking fair!" I yell.

I grin as I begin to saw off his head by the neck too, and I watch as the skin tears, and then watch as the veins in his neck come in half, see the blood pour from all around him and the hear the cannon fire. I pull myself away from him and scream into the sky.

"You bastards! See what you've done?"

See what you've done?

You've killed my Carlyn. And no matter what it takes, they will pay for it. I've got no one to protect now that that worthless bitch is dead and off my hands. And I will take the Capitol down for it. I will take the Capitol down for existing.

Trumpets blare over the arena and I am announced as victor, but all I can see as I am lifted into the sky is Carlyn's body down below and I replay the hatchet flying into her stomach. My whole chest seems to ache as I do and I don't know why. The idiot girl was useless and silly; she was a frivolous, worthless ally…

I see people in the hovercraft and I scream at them, drawing my knife, telling them it's all their fault, they're why Carlyn's dead, don't they see what they've done?

All they do is knock me out and tell me that I'll be okay in the Capitol.

Victor: Krumr Strongthews of District Twelve.

Yes I did just let him win because I was given a second opportunity to let him win and how could I refuse? Originally he wasn't going to be the victor but then I realized... You've got a second turn at giving Krumr a go... Why let him slip away again?

YAY KRUMR GO KRUMR CONGRATULATIONS CAPITOLRULES BECAUSE HE WON.