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Caelia Harlow
District Two Female, 18 Years Old

"Let the Seventieth Annual Hunger Games begin!"

Pushing myself off of the stone pedestal, I immediately go into a bee-line right towards the center of the circular area. There's no Cornucopia, except for the oddly shaped stone structure in the center. Some backpacks hang around it, so that's where I need to go.

That's where things will start to get interesting. Where I will finally be able to show what I'm capable of and who I really am. This is it, I remind myself, not wanting to get distracted. Put your game face on.

There are heavy footsteps all around me, the sounds of boots hitting the solid stone beneath us being louder than I expected. I'm completely set on getting to this center area that when I feel a force pressed on top of me, it catches me off guard. I'm slammed right down to the ground, someone's hair flying in front of me, getting in my mouth. I spit it back out, scrambling to get my knees, infuriation growing in my core.

"You little shit," I spit, readjusting my eyes. "I'm not dealing with this…"

"Get up," the girl in front of me snaps, and once I realize it's the girl from District Five, I bite down on my tongue. This isn't for children anymore – I can kill her now. Nothing is stopping me. She opens her mouth to speak again, both of us not completely composed, and as I reach to grab her hair, she sends her fist right into my hip.

I growl at her, wrapping all of the hair around my fist. She yelps a little, and although I don't have a weapon, I can deal with it. I was trained for this too, so this is nothing new, it's only a minor setback. With her hair wrapped around my fist, I send my knee right into her back, making her arch.

She squirms under my grasp, but as I tighten it, I begin to wrap my hands around her neck. She coughs, but I ignore her gestures of her being in pain, wanting this to be over with. She's just wasting my time.

Once I get the perfect grasp around her neck, I smirk a little, not paying attention to the careless shoves and kicks coming from her. With one quick snap of my hands, I snap her neck, my body wanting to collapse down with the weight of hers. Releasing her head, I let the body drop, looking right up as the body droops downwards.

Larron is standing there, a spear in his hand. I wink at him just as the boy from District Twelve hobbles over, who is grabbing onto his wrist. I nod my head, beginning to saunter back over to the center area. Larron sees him coming, and as he glances back at me one last time, I wave my hand.

Larron doesn't really have much of a choice.

He has to kill or one of us will kill him. There's no room for useless allies in the Career Pack. Liora is the only exception – for now, anyway.

Larron hesitates a little, but as the boy from Twelve gets closer, Larron quickly sends the spear right into his chest. He was getting too close for comfort, so I probably would have stepped in if he did attack Larron. Larron leaves his spear in the boy's chest, jogging right back towards the center.

Once I approach the center, I grab one of the shorter swords, weighing it in my hands. I tap the tip of it onto the ground, the sound of metal hitting stone resonating. I scan the rest of the supplies, nothing really standing out to me right now. We'll take control of the center area after, so a backpack shouldn't be a problem right now.

In front of me, Trent stands there, some blood already on his weapon. I smirk, watching him completely disregard me and turn back around after he grabs a different trident. He drops his other one and I watch it roll to the side, the sun reflecting off the metal and shining onto the stone.

I take a step back, the heat getting to me a little. I adjust my collar, but once I hear a noise, I snap back and get ready to fend off whoever is near.

Behind me, there's a grunt coming from a male, and although I do wish it was one of my allies, it isn't. It's the boy from District Eleven, Trevor, and the boy from District Five. They're off to the outskirts of the center area, about to slip through a split in the jagged stone. Trevor brings down his sickle, sinking into his upper-thigh. He lets out a grunt of pain again, and Trevor, who's completely unfazed, rips out his sickle and then side-arms it into his neck.

And that's that.

Another one down.

Turning back to everything that's going on, I see more tributes attempting to get supplies, some trying to escape, and some trying to fight. I force myself to keep moving, knowing that everyone can see me just standing there, making me look lazy. Making me look like I can't kill.

But, I can. I can kill.

Larron pops up to the side of me, another spear in his hand. He looks a little distressed, maybe from his kill, but I choose not to entertain that right now. I'll listen to him whine about it later. I wink again, reaching my finger out towards him.

"Well, Larron?" I ask, feeling the pain in my hip from the Five girl for the first time. "Don't just stand there. Trevor can come for you next."

Where I'm standing I'm safe, off to the side from where the Bloodbath is going on. I see Ines, Darien, the boy from Six, Cerise, Taima, and a few others. They're all running around, all going too quickly for me to see what they have in their hands or where they're going.

I have to get back in there, though. I can't stop here. One kill isn't enough. I have to do more, don't I? There's so much more to prove, to show District Two and all of Panem. I'm not a one trick pony.

What else do you want me to do? Kill someone else?

Because I will.

I'll do whatever it takes.

Emery Adrion
District Three Female, 16 Years Old

"Let the Seventieth Annual Hunger Games begin!"

Gage.

Where is he?

Frantically, I look around, trying to find where Gage is. I can't see him through everyone who's rushing around, and once I figure that he would probably go to the center to get weapons and supplies, I look there. There, I see Gage standing over a backpack and a weapon of some sort. We make eye-contact and that's when I know I have to run. I can't just stand here, can I? I'm an easy target… I can't get into a fight. No one can notice me.

"Gage!" I scream, not sure if he can hear me from over here. I slam my feet down onto the stone hard, trying to rush over to him as quick as possible. When he sees me, he perks up, taking a step back.

And that's when I see her.

I haven't been paying attention, and as the girl from District Seven lunges at me, I side-step. I squeal as she doesn't trip and catches herself, but luckily for me, there's someone else in the way now. She looks at the boy and then back at me, but since the boy's closer to her, she goes after him. It's the boy from District Ten, and with one forceful grab, is thrown down to the ground by Salya. His head smacks down on the stone, his body twitching at the impact. He groans and I could only imagine the pain he is going through.

Would she have done that to me?

I stand there, staring at what Salya is about to do. Gage is in the view from the corner of my eye, but my feet are refusing to move, after seeing Salya come after me like that. Why would she want to kill me? What have I done to her?

Gage ignores everything that is going on, and as Salya slams her foot down onto the boy's chest, I gasp. I bring my hands up to my mouth, the footsteps around me getting louder and louder. Gage grabs me by the shoulder, and as he drags me away, I go reluctantly.

Salya kicks the boy in the chest again, and just as she's done with that, brings her axe down into his skull. The blood squirts out, getting all over her boots. She looks back up, an edge in her eyes now. When her District partner comes over to her, she looks away for a moment, and I now know that this is our chance to get away. Yet, for some reason, I can't help but stare at Salya.

"Come on, Emery."

I don't say a word back to him.

"I don't want to have to leave you, Emery."

And with just those few words, my heart sinks into my chest, my body immediately reacting. I'm forced to follow him by his hand and I have disbelief with what he just said, the way he got so snappy… I've never seen him like that. Does he mean that? That he would leave me? He can't, can he?

Not after all of this. He can't leave me.

"Gage," I say softly, my voice being too inaudible for him to hear me over the stomping of our feet on the stone below. Please, talk to me, Gage, I think, not having the nerve to speak to him again. Tell me you don't mean it.

Tell me you won't leave me.

Tell me you'll always be here for me.

There are two larger pieces of stone ahead of us, the pointed tips coming together above to form a small arch. He lets go of my hand, my fingers lingering after his. Gage presses his hands against the two stones, peering over the edge, and with a glance over his shoulder, he nods for me to follow. We slide down the side, landing on the ground below that.

I wait there for a moment, waiting for Gage to wrap his hand around mine again. To comfort me with the warmth of his hand, to make me feel protected. To make me feel okay during all of this – during the Games. That, no matter what, he'll be there for me, to protect me. To be my ally. To be my friend.

But, he doesn't.

He just keeps walking.

I watch him zig-zag through the pieces of stone ahead, and as I follow him, I sulk and keep my distance. That's what it's always been, though, but rather, the opposite. He kept his distance from me, but I never realized before. He never told me about his life or himself. It was always me talking, dictating what we did and what we talked about.

And now he's leading me through the arena.

We come across a small alcove in a larger piece of rock, and Gage plops himself down, sitting up against the back of it. It's still light out, but there is no one around us and I can't hear anything. It's just my own breathing, along with Gage's. As I sit down next to him, I hope that he'll say something again, but I get nothing.

He doesn't say a word.

So, neither do I.

We sit there in silence, with Gage staring at the ground and me staring up at the sky. For a moment, I feel myself wanting to cry, but I bite down on my tongue and refuse to let tears escape my eyes. I can't let him see me like this, nor the Capitol. I don't even want to act like this.

I don't want to be hurt because of Gage. I don't want to feel upset. I don't want to feel anything.

But, I can't help it. I can't help feel this influx of emotion, all from Gage's few words. I can't wrap my head around this and attempt to cope with it. This is the Games, though, and even though I have to learn to deal with it, I can't. I can't do anything.

This is all too much.

I can't do this.

Darya Mercado
District Four Female, 18 Years Old

"Let the Seventieth Annual Hunger Games begin!"

Go, Darya. Run.

Get to the center.

Raising my arms, I leap forward, landing perfectly on the stone. I don't waste any time, heading right towards the center where all of the weapons are. I look side-to-side, making sure no one is coming up from behind me or from beside me. Now is not the time to be careless or to put your guard down – if anything, it's time to do the opposite.

To watch everything around me.

To be careful.

To not mess up.

The stone in front of me is all flat, making it easy to run on, but it hurts the bottom of my feet after a while. Eventually, I get to the center, huddling right behind the stone structure to grab a weapon. I'm small enough to fit behind it, and I time it perfectly to leap out when someone comes nearby. As I wait and listen for footsteps, I don't look around me, knowing that my back is protected by the structure.

Then, someone comes by, their small frame and brown hair flowing behind them rushing passed me. I leap out, throwing my spear out behind them. The spear lodges into their back, pulling me forward a little, but I take my stance and hold my ground. The girl is pulled back, the spear still lodged into her back. She falls down, not being able to flip over. I catch a glimpse of an eleven on her shoulder before she curls up into a ball, a soft cry coming from her.

I shake my head.

Just like I thought, I don't have much of a reaction. I look away, going right for another spear. Grabbing another one, I think about the girl from Eleven for a moment, but once I realize it's what I had to do, I get over it. It's what I have to do in order to do well.

Wouldn't it have been more if she fought back? If she even had a chance to fight back?

What if she could fight back? Would she have beaten me?

"Darya, get out of the way!"

Before I can react, I feel someone push me to the side and Trent's large body rushing passed me. He barges right into me, and I go flying to the side, barely catching myself before I fall down to the ground. I see him stop, and in front of him is the boy from Eleven, Trevor. He has a weapon in his hand, and as I see where he's standing, I realize that it's right behind where I was.

He almost killed me.

If Trent wasn't there, he would've killed me.

I have to pay more attention… If Trent didn't come in time, I would be dead right now, wouldn't I? How could I mess up like that? How could I be so stupid? So reckless?

With a quick swipe, Trent rips through Trevor's suit on his chest, piercing skin. The blood begins to drip down, and Trent goes in for another swipe, this time aiming for his face. The trident cuts all of Trevor's face, the blood dripping down his whole body. Trent pushes Trevor down with the tip of his trident, coming over to me after and holding out his hand.

"You have to be more careful, alright?" Trent says, and as I grab his hand, I realize that this is the first time he's ever been serious. That he's ever actually put someone else before him, that he's actually cared for any of his allies.

We both prepare to go back to the center, but we see that the area is basically cleared out. There are only a few stragglers trying to slip through the stone and get out of this circular area, one of them in particular being the boy from Eight. He's wedged right between two stones, his body not being able to get through it.

I hear Caelia's laugh, the same laugh she's had this entire time. Nothing's changed, apparently. She laughs, waving her sword at this boy who's desperately trying to get out and run away. I don't feel bad for him, though. He got himself into this mess and this time, he can't get himself out of it.

This is his problem.

Caelia walks over, taking her time to completely taunt him. Larron is standing near the stone structure, as is Darien, who I didn't really see much of. Liora is leaning against the stone structure, her hip out and her hand resting on it. Trent and I walk over, and by the time we reach the center, Caelia is near the boy from Eight. The boy from Eight flails his one arm that is not wedged between the stone, but Caelia knocks it to the side, leaning on the stone right next to him.

"This, kids," she says, speaking to all of us. "Is what you do not do."

"Idiot," Trent calls out, taking one of the backpacks to wipe off the top of his trident. "Just kill him, Caelia."

And so she does.

She drives her sword right through his head, not even flinching from the sounds or from the blood. She leaves the sword where it is, walking away from her next kill. That's two for her, one for Trent, one for Larron, and one for me. Darien got none, as well as Liora.

Caelia comes back over, patting Larron on the shoulder as she walks by him. She looks Liora up and down, giving her a disgusted look. Her and Darien meet up, walk over to the edge, and peer outwards. I'm not sure what they see, but that's the rest of the arena. But, for some reason, I can't think about that right now.

I can't think about what else is out there.

All I can think about is killing. The way Caelia just killed two people in the matter of minutes, while I only killed one and nearly got killed myself. Has Caelia proven herself, then? Has she proven herself to whomever is watching the Games?

Is that what is expected of me?

To make more kills?

Is that what it takes?

I can do that.

I can kill.

Zimmer Hexley
District Six Male, 18 Years Old

"Taima, where's Garret?"

"Dead, you idiot."

"Are you sure?"

Taima stops in her tracks, letting her backpack slide off her shoulder and dangle down. Her hair sways side-to-side, showing that she's shaking her head. Was it something I said? What is she thinking about?

Why won't she answer me about Garret?

"Yes," Taima says, her voice deeper. "Yes, Zimmer. Garret is dead."

"Why would he kill him?

Taima throws her head back, raising her arms out in front of her. The backpack slides back up her shoulder, and as she pulls it over her back tighter, she continues to walk. She chuckles to herself, and as I follow behind her quietly, I wait for her to answer me again. Who killed him?

Why would anyone kill Garret?

"Why would who?"

"The boy from Eleven. Why would he kill Garret?"

"Why don't you go and ask him? I'm sure he'll love to give you a real-life demonstration of what he did to him."

"Don't joke around," I snap, never liking when I have to raise my voice with someone or when I have to be rude. Taima glances over her shoulder, a look of disgust on her face. "He was our ally. Now, he's gone."

"That does happen in the Hunger Games," Taima says, her voice seemingly drifting away. It's get quiet and quieter, her words becoming nearly inaudible. "People come and they go."

Taima goes down a slope, the stone below us turning into a light dust of some sort. I follow her, not speaking up anymore. If she doesn't want to talk to me seriously, then I don't need to talk to her. Why doesn't she care about Garret?

Why isn't she mourning our loss?

Taima crouches down, leaning forward to look through the cracks of a few rocks. It's getting darker now, with the sun closer to the horizon, but everything is still somewhat visible. She looks into the opening, and when she nods her head, I guess this means she wants to stay here over night. Without asking me or telling me, she slips in on her own, not waiting up for me, either.

Why is she acting like this to me?

I haven't done anything.

I open my mouth to call after her, but when I see her go all the way in, I shut it. She probably doesn't want to hear anything else I have to say right now. After I go through the crack too, I see her sitting in the corner of the little alcove, leaning her head on her backpack. I sit down right near the entrance, putting my backpack on the ground in front of me.

Now that I have time, I'll rummage through what's inside. Opening it, the first thing I notice is a remote of some sort. I smirk at the sight of it, knowing that if I had enough wire, I can build an explosive of some sort. Beneath the remote is some wire, but not nearly enough. There's some other stuff in the backpack – food, water – but nothing important right now.

"Here," Taima says, and as I look up, she tosses me something. I catch it in my hands, and when I realize that it's more wire, the smirk on my face grows wider. "Use it wisely."

"Thank you," I say, knowing that I'm treading on thin ice with her. "I'll start building something tonight."

Taima looks away, staring up at the stone above our heads. There's another small crack, letting only some sunlight in. She closes her eyes, so I go back to playing around with the wires and remote. I place it all down, assorting it by color and type. Some have a red tip, while others have a yellow tip. I set the remote down in the center of all, and although I would go outside right now, I don't think I should.

It might not be safe.

I'm not sure where all of the other tributes went. After Garret was killed, Taima and I got out of there quickly, being one of the first ones to escape it all. I trailed behind Taima, staring at Garret's body… His bloody, lifeless body beneath the boy of District Eleven and his sickle.

I wanted to run back.

But, Taima wouldn't let me. She said she'd leave me there and wouldn't come back. Why wouldn't she want to go back for Garret? We just left without even thinking about him. I was more than sure that he was following us… Is this my fault, then? Could I have saved him?

If I waited one more second, could he still be alive?

He probably would.

I messed up.

Standing up, I scoop up all of the wires and the remote and go near the entrance into the alcove. I'm still crouched down, and just as I almost leave, I feel the need to say something to Taima. She's been sitting there in silence, not being her normal peppy self. She was always one to make a joke or just to be giggling at everything.

What have the Games done to her?

Will they do to me?

I clear my throat, trying to get Taima's attention before I speak. I hear her shift on the ground, dragging her boot along the stone. Without looking at her, I begin to speak to her, not knowing where this will go. I just want her to know that none of this was supposed to happen… Garret's death or this sudden mood change with her.

"Taima?"

"What do you want?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me."

Stepping out of the alcove, I don't turn around to see if she's looking at me. She's probably still laying there, trying to fall asleep as she rests on her backpack. She doesn't want to hear me apologize. She probably doesn't even want me to talk to her at all anymore.

Have I done something wrong?

I never meant to.

I never meant to make anyone upset.

Ines Maiva
District One Female, 18 Years Old

"Fuck!"

Stubbing my toe on the rock in front of me, I grunt at the pain, stopping short. I shake my leg, letting the pain gradually go away. Even with these boots, they aren't very protective. If I can nearly break my toe on a rock, what will these suits actually do for me?

Will they protect me from an arrow piercing my chest? No.

I might as well be naked.

After sucking it up and getting over it – which my lovely mother taught me after all of these years – I continue walking. My mother had such a way with words, really. After all of her wasted life, she learned to speak so eloquently.

She would always tell me to shut up in the sweetest ways possible.

She was extremely bitter, though, and she thought she could blame me. Whose fault was is it that she wasted all of her training years? Who chickened out when it came down to it? My mother – that's who. So, she thought she push this life onto me, trying to mold me into the model District One citizen.

She didn't want me to volunteer. She didn't want me to even train.

So, I didn't tell her. But, somehow, she found out. She thought she was doing me a favor by refusing to let me train, by refusing to let me entertain myself or aspire to be something else. To not turn out like her or anyone else in that District. They were all such shallow people.

And now, here I am. Right now, what could my mother be thinking? Is she angry at me? Is she nervous for me? What if I were to die? What would she do then?

Cry?

Probably not.

She'd probably utter that she told me so.

Am I just being spiteful, then? Did I only volunteer to rebel against my mother's will and to do what I want?

I shrug. Maybe that is why I volunteered – to show that no one can tell me what to do. That, not even my own mother, can pressure me into living a life I would rather die than live. She was trying mold my identity and I couldn't let her do that. Frankly, I still don't know why I volunteered.

If I were to win, though, I could do whatever I want. That's one of the most appealing things about victory.

I could commit any felony and guess what? The Peacekeepers wouldn't lay a finger on me.

When I come up to a crack in a large piece of stone, I peer through, trying to see what's on the other side. It's too dark to really see anything and it'd be too risky to put on my flashlight. Trusting my instinct, I slip through, ending up on the other side. It just seems like another open stone platform, leading to absolutely nowhere.

How is this enjoyable?

How do the viewers like seeing us wandering around?

"Why would Trent want us to scout the area? It seems kind of dumb. I mean, wouldn't everyone just be sleeping?"

At the sound of a familiar voice, I freeze in my steps, glancing over my shoulder to see how far the crack is. In the distance, only a few feet ahead from me, appear two darkened figures, but I can't decipher who is who. The voice, though… It's Larron. It has to be.

Who is he with?

"Just for safety precaution," the other figure speaks up, this one being familiar. That's Darya.

"Maybe he just wanted some alone time with Liora."

Darya snickers, and as I hear their voices getting louder, I begin to creep backwards. I tip-toe, not wanting to get either of their attention. To make it even worse, I can't tell who is who because they're standing side-by-side. The Careers in general aren't a big fan of me, so even if they see or hear me, they'll try to kill me.

Maybe not Larron; he's too soft for this.

When I take my next step, I feel my hands on the piece of stone behind me, but I can't see where the crack is. I'm surrounded by stone on the other sides of it, so there's nowhere else to go. They keep getting closer and closer, and before I know it, I'm being cornered.

When I slowly turn around to feel where the crack is, something in my backpack shakes and makes a noise. Of course, the Gamemakers just had to multiple metal canisters in one backpack. It's loud enough for the two of them to hear me, and I freeze, not sure what's about to happen next.

"What was that?"

Shit.

"It came from over here," Larron says, and I hear foot-steps again. When one of the figures begins to walk over to where I am, I gulp, not knowing if it's Larron or Darya. The two of them are too similar in their appearance.

Larron was always more on the feminine side.

The figure gets closer and closer, and I begin to panic, gripping the sword in my hand. I haven't regarded the weapon much, since I never thought I would have to use it. But, it's been there, dangling at my side. Once the figure is nearly in front of me, I hope it out, prepared to fight if I have to.

"Wait-"

I lunge forward.

The sword plunges deep into someone's body and I use all of my strength to really push it through. I still don't know who it is, and as I leave the sword there, I take my hands off. The person buckles over, and when they place their hand on my chest, it begins to slide down. They gasp for air and then before I know it, I hear the sound of something clash against the stone behind me.

Shit.

"Larron!"

At the sound of his name, my head spins, hoping that it isn't true. I just killed my own District partner. Backing up, I hold my hands behind me, trying to grab onto something. I can barely stand up, the thought of Larron lying on the floor with my sword in his stomach repulsing me.

How could I?

I was never going to take it that far.

"Where are you?!" Darya yells, the anger in her voice making me shake even more. I never meant to do that… I never meant to kill anyone. "Don't make me come and find you."

And when I see Darya's flashlight turn on, I know it's over.

I don't have my sword anymore.

I don't have the energy to stand up.

"Ines," Darya utters, the flashlight making my vision all spotty. "How could you?"

I have no words for her.

"Say something," Darya spits, coming closer with the spear being raised slowly. "Speak for yourself!"

"I…," is all I manage to come up with, my voice drifting off. I don't know what to say. I never gave the thought of killing much thought, but right now, I regret it. I shouldn't have done that.

"You what? Is this what you had planned all along?"

"No-"

"I don't care, Ines. It's over."

When I see the metal hurling towards me, reflecting the light off of it, I know it's over. Closing my eyes, I lean my head back, knowing that even if I were to jump to the side, she'd throw another knife. She has me cornered either way.

Just like that. I lost the Hunger Games – the Games I volunteered for, against my mother's will. I never wanted to do this to her… To make her watch me die.

I didn't have to volunteer to die.

I could have withered away in the streets of District One.

But, I prefer it this way.

I'm dying on my own terms.

District Five, Clara Novisont – Placed 24th

District Twelve, Allan Barre – Placed 23rd

District Eleven, Daisy Mills – Placed 22nd

District Five, Garret Orson – Placed 21st

District Ten, Veles Ryman – Placed 20th

District Eleven, Trevor Santos – Placed 19th

District Eight, Wick Cresswell – Placed 18th

District One, Larron Arlett – Placed 17th

District One, Ines Maiva – Placed 16th

Author's Note:

At first, I wanted to do those whole obituary things for each tribute, but I'm lazy, so. I'll just do some general comments on why I chose them and for what purpose each death served. Bear with me here, people.

Some deaths you all should have seen coming: Allan, Daisy, Veles. Their time in this story was up and I had no direction for any of them. So sad, isn't it? A whole alliance (lol this is actually something I've done in every one of my stories.)

Then some more deaths were not as expected to me, but were going to happen regardless: Garret, Trevor, Wick. Once again, I couldn't think of anything else they could bring to the story and two of them did have their own respective alliance, so, I'll bring them up again.

And then we have a last minute deaths: Ines. Nothing really to say except that she was all over the place and I couldn't find anywhere to incorporate her into. She was just one of those tributes, you know? 16th isn't too bad. And then Larron… What? Want to know a secret? I had him winning; things change, alright. District One just wasn't up to my speed, I guess.

Clara is Clara.

But, okay, back to the real Author's Note:

The time has come for another Bloodbath! This was one of the larger ones I've ever done, but eh, wanted to change things up. Now, for some questions and whatnot.

What did you think of the Bloodbath? Of the arena?

Were any of the deaths unexpected? Did you expect someone else to die?

General comments as well, yeah!

The poll results are up as well.

And that's it from Cashmere67 for now.