A/N: Thanks to Ancrazyhyperawesomeidiot, krikanalo, Kman528, allonsydney, District4girl, Beauthg, RealFiction and WeeMadArthur for reviewing! I appreciate the support! :)

Yet again, here's another bloodbath chapter, so hopefully I can manage to keep this interesting as the bloodbath chapters run up to chapter 84 :)

It's been over forty chapters since this victor's last appearance, so hopefully you all enjoy her return :)

P.S. The bloodbath scene that I took several hours choreographing for the next seven chapters was written prior to the release of 'The Hunger Games: Catching Fire' on 21/11/13, and as such is not entirely in canon with the version of events at the cornucopia in the film. This does, however, remain accurate to 'Catching Fire' the novel.


"Slip inside the eye of your mind

Don't you know you might find

A better place to play

You said that you'd never been

All the things that you've seen

Will slowly fade away."

- Noel Gallagher, 1995.


The 75th Annual Hunger Games (The Third Quarter Quell) - Day 1, 10.00am

Seeder King (60), District 11 Female (victor of the 32nd Annual Hunger Games)

Oasis - Don't Look Back in Anger (1995)


The gong sounds, and the Third Quarter Quell begins for real.

I waste no time in diving into the water on my right in an attempt to reach the strip of sand before the tribute on the other side of it. In the water, I feel much lighter than I ever did swimming at home, and although I've been a few years out of practice, I cut through the water quickly and cleanly.

I make land on the thin strip of sand in but a few seconds, but find that I'm not alone when the victor I had been competing with, Toby Denham of District 10, grabs my ankles as I start to run and pulls me back down into the water, trying to shove me under the waves. I land a couple of good punches squarely in his stomach as he pushes me under, but he barely flinches. He's younger, fitter and stronger than I am. Finally he give me a firm push below as he pulls himself onto the land, but I find myself on the surface, albeit a few precious seconds later than I had hoped.

As I pull myself up to the surface, I see that the other tribute in my wedge, Cecelia, is yet to leave her pedestal. Maybe she's worried about possible dangers waiting in the water - something I completely overlooked - or it may simply be that she can't swim.

It doesn't surprise me that when I look up towards the cornucopia, I see that District 4's Finnick Odair is already armed and preparing for a fight. When I see that he's with Katniss, I'm glad that one of us has been able to give her protection as Plutarch demanded. With a water-based arena, Finnick will be far more use to her than Chaff or myself.

As I reach the small island that holds the cornucopia, I'm surprised that half the tributes have barely moved, but I won't question it. Toby, who got one over me moments before, has already grabbed some weapons and made a run for it before even the Careers are organised enough to put up any resistance. Two of them - Gloss and Enobaria - are still on their pedestals. I can understand Gloss (he was always the cautious type), but what is Enobaria waiting for? That's something that I really don't have time to ponder at the moment.

On land, the first tribute I encounter is Chaff, my district partner. He's clear already visited the supplies, and holds a combat knife in his good hand. Just looking at the stump of his other arm reminds me of my greatest - and yet most terrifying - moment as mentor, when Chaff survived the Games after a fifty-foot fall. But enough of the past. I need to grab a weapon and get out of here.

"I wouldn't go in there," Chaff says, gesturing around the corner towards Katniss, where I see Luke of District 5 collapse in a heap, impaled by a trident. At least Finnick is doing his job well. For now.

"I need a weapon," I say to him, adamant that I need it to survive, even though I know that I have already signed off my life. I may have given my life away for the cause, but I still want as many days as I can.

"I've got you something," Chaff says, handing me a scythe, not dissimilar to the ones we use at home in District 11.

"Thanks," I reply quickly. "I guess we should go."

Chaff nods, but suddenly looks past me over my shoulder, his eyes widening in fear.

I just have time to realise what the issue is when the blade slides through my ribcage from behind.

For a moment, the pain is all-encompassing, blocking out my sight as I struggle to remain conscious. I collapse to my knees uncontrollably, crying out in pain. I feel the blade slide back through me and I collapse onto my back, gasping for breath as I feel my blood pour out of me onto the sand. Opening my eyes again, I look up at the pink sky to see Brutus walk slowly away, his sword bloodied.

At least I will know my murderer.

Chaff has bolted, and rightly so. If he stays here any longer, he'll join me in death. He must know that I'm past saving. I had signed off on life anyway. I just hope he gets a few more days before Plutarch demands his blood for the cause, just as he demanded mine.

At least I've not left anyone behind me in District 11. My family are gone, taken away by the Capitol for my reluctance to participate in their schemes after the Games. I don't even know what happened to them, and now I never will. At home, Chaff was my only friend, when he kept away from the alcohol long enough to make decent concentration. But he'll be joining me in death in just a few days, so I shouldn't feel guilty about leaving anyone behind. But somehow, I do. Maybe it's Katniss. In the end, I was nothing but another martyr. Another name they can use as a rallying point for the rebellion. It's on its way; I know it. I just hope that the mockingjay lives long enough for the fire to spread.

For a while, as I accustom myself to the pain, time loses perspective. I could have been bleeding out on the beach for six hours or a mere five minutes, but eventually I manage to make out another figure hovering above me. It's Cashmere, the woman from District 1, looking worse than she has done in years. Just a short time in the Games has already made her lose the shine that got all the Capitol citizens raving. But I'm not paying attention to her, I'm paying attention to the serrated edge of the knife in her hand, as she presses it to my throat.

I know this is the end, but I don't care anymore. I just want a way out. Cashmere, however, seems to be having second doubts, hovering over me, unsure of whether to finish me or not.

"Do it," I manage to whisper to her. I'll be dead soon enough either way.

Then her face hardens, and there is a flash of blinding pain, followed by nothingness for evermore.


A/N: If you enjoyed this chapter, please review! Constructive criticism is welcomed! :)

P.S. I'd just like to remind everyone once more about the poll on my profile to decide what the follow-up story to this will be. I've had a few votes given already, but I'm keeping the poll up until this story's completion, so the decision that has been reached so far is by no means final.

With your help, we can make this series what everyone wants to see.

GM97 :)