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Day Four.

A Cannon in the Wind;

The Fifth Hunger Games.

Caio Artelle, 17;

District Four Male.

"So you're staying with me then?" Vesper questions as soon as I climb the ladder downstairs. All I do is nod, trying not to squirm under his icy stare or look at the bloodied sheets tied around his upper body. Last night doesn't even feel real; all I can make out is the bright shine of our knives, electrifying pain, and crimson red blood.

Unconsciously, I move my hand towards my nose, and then wince at the jolt of agony that travels across my face. When I looked at my reflection in the life-sized mirror upstairs this morning, all I could see was shades of black and blue bruises covering my chocolate brown skin. It hurts — and it hurts even more knowing I wouldn't have even acquired these wounds if I'd just stayed with Ula and Kaya.

I usually regret my decisions, but it's physically painful how much I regret that one.

The one good thing I can think of, though, is the fact that I'm still alive. Vesper could've easily killed me last night, he really could have — but instead, he spared my life and decided to ally with me. Now I'm in another alliance with the scary guy who killed the little girl from Three and nearly chopped my own head off.

Are you really making the right decision, Caio? What's stopping him from using that axe to slice you open right now?

I try to ignore the indecisive paranoia that always manages to creep at the back of my mind. It's the reason I mistrusted Ula and Kaya enough to abandon them. It's the reason I decided to come into this dilapidated house rather than just stay outside. I'll be damned if I miss an opportunity to finally feel secure just because of my conflicted nature.

I… I don't think I can win the Hunger Games alone. Last night was a clear reminder of my mortality. But with Vesper, I may just have a chance. I may be able to go back home to my hardworking mom and my beloved twin sister. I may be able to see Bianca again, the girl who I've had a crush on since I was just fourteen-years-old.

And looking at Vesper now, with his scrutinizing blue eyes, makes me think of Bliss. He was, is, my best friend and the only one I can truly trust besides my family. Tall, brooding, cynical — him and Vesper could be brothers.

"Yeah, I'm staying," I say, breaking the tense silence between us. With a seriousness that even surprises myself, I stare Vesper head-on. "We can forget about last night, right? I'm...sorry about your chest."

"And I'm sorry about your face," he grunts.

With that out of the way, Vesper motions for me to follow him towards the window. I do, taking quick strides to keep up — and when I see the rain pounding against the glass, and the streak of lightning flashing in the distance, I almost blanch. I heard the rain when I woke up this morning, but I didn't think it'd be as bad as it was last time.

"As you can see, that old Gamemaker is fucking with the weather again," Vesper begins, looking more and more exhausted with each word. I hadn't realized it before, but he really doesn't look to be in tip-top shape. "But are we going to let that stop us? Hell no. I've run out of food, and I don't think you have any either."

The grumbling of my stomach answers that question pretty quickly. I haven't eaten anything since… Shit, I'm really hungry. Another reason why I shouldn't have left Ula and Kaya.

"Exactly. So our plan for today is to go out there, ambush any tributes trying to hide out from this weather, and steal their food. Agreed?" The way he asks me for approval doesn't really leave any real room for discussion. It's either we do what he says or I die.

And for once, I don't spend hours trying to contemplate this question. "Agreed," I say, nodding. We stare at each other one last time, his axe in his hand and my knife in mine, before we both break away and head towards the front door.

Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong. That's what Bliss used to always say. He would regularly rant about the injustices of our society, telling me that nobody in Panem could ever truly have a good life. He would say that every plan for a better future was bound to fail, that every friendship would eventually end, that any amount momentary happiness you feel was bound to shrivel up and turn into melancholy before you knew it. In some ways, Bliss was more paranoid than myself.

As I open the door, rain and wind hitting me right in the face, I can practically hear my friend's deep chuckles. He would have know something like this was going to happen. He would have known.

"Fancy encountering you two here, huh?" The volunteer guy from District Seven, Daniel, stands a few yards away away. In his hands is a large, intimidating sword — and standing next to him, a small dagger in his equally small hands, is the blank-faced boy of District Three.

Fuck.

Vesper doesn't even tense; he just stares at Daniel, a mild annoyance flashing in his blue eyes. With the wind and rain whipping his blond hair everywhere, and the sheets around his chest getting absolutely soaked, I realize he doesn't even look like the ferocious guy from last night. He looks… He looks so tired.

And believe it or not, I'm worried.

I whip my gaze back towards Daniel and Tet, the latter almost hiding behind his much bigger ally. I stare at them, wondering what they could want and why they're just standing there and looking at us. They can't possibly be wanting a fight, right? I know it's the Hunger Games and everything, but…

Daniel unlatches his sharp eyes away from Vesper and locks onto me instead. I try not to flinch. I try to meet his stare head-on, showing nothing but an intense determination to fight for my life. But the way he looks at me, analyzing me…

This isn't for me. He's out for blood. They're all out for blood. I need to run. I need to run, run, run..! I take a small step back — but just like that, images of my family come back to me. All of us hunched over, taking a public whipping because of my father's cowardice. He ran away. And in return, we were punished for it.

I can't become like him. I know I may die, I know I'm definitely out of my element here, but I wholeheartedly refuse to run away!

Daniel eventually looks away, once again locking eyes with my temporary ally. "It appears you've picked up a little someone, huh?" Referring to me no-doubt, the boy from Seven snorts. "That doesn't matter. You already know what's coming for you."

"If you come near us, you're dead," Vesper responds, anger flashing across his face. "Now get the hell away."

"You know that can't happen, Vesper. You killed Iris and—"

"So what?! How come she has a better reason at staying alive than I do?! How come you care about that little bitch so much when you've only known her for a week?! Grow a fucking pair and move the fuck on! It's the Hunger Games, for goodness' sake! Did you expect her to win?! Were you going to die for her?!" Vesper has lost it, I can tell. I don't know what it is that's made him lose his composure so fast — but he's lost every bit of it, and I realize now that this isn't going to end smoothly.

Daniel wants Vesper dead for killing Iris. Vesper isn't just going to submit to that. And what about me? Will my temporary alliance with Vesper make Daniel want me dead, too? And will Tet end up getting involved?

Should you intervene? Should you run? No, no running. But does that mean I can actually fight alongside Vesper against the guy who scared a 7 during training and the thirteen-year-old who matched my own score of 5?

I don't have time to think about it. I blink back into reality, just as Daniel charges at Vesper and I. The look in his eyes is cold, downright bloodthirsty — and mixed in with the rain and wind and thunder, he looks terrifying.

Move! I jump to the right, narrowly escaping Daniel's slash of his sword. Vesper doesn't dodge like me, though; he meets Daniel's slash head-on and parries the blow with his axe. Daniel swipes again, and again, and again, doing everything in his power to take my ally's life away. Vesper fights back, though, blocking all of Daniel's attacks with his own weapon and even taking a few attempts at hurting Daniel as well.

The fight is moving a bit to the left of the house, away from sight. I jerk my head away, silently scolding myself for getting so transfixed — and staring at me, a few yards away, is the boy from Three. Tet. He has the knife held tightly in his hands, his face deadpanned despite the events going on around us. Immediately, the knife in my own hands feel a thousand times heavier.

You know what to do, Caio. He's five years younger than, as well on Daniel's side. Any second of contemplation could be deadly, I realize that. With my jaw set and a mountain of guilt weighing on my shoulders, I march towards Tet. In the end, he's just another competitor. In the end, he'll be dead if I'm going to win.

Look at what you're turned into.

"You're going to kill me?" Tet asks the moment I get close enough, so close that I could reach out and touch him. The question shocks me; who asks something like that? Before I can respond, though, a prickle of paranoia stabs at the back of my mind.

I whip my head around, just in time to see Daniel rushing towards us, his eyes narrowed. I cry out in shock, unconsciously bringing my knife up and inadvertently blocking his sword from cutting into my neck. The sound of metal grinding against metal overwhelms the rain, the wind, the thunder, everything. All I can focus on is Daniel and I, our weapons pushing against each other, the adrenaline coursing throughout my entire body.

He's stronger than me, though. With a cry of anger, he brings his sword back and slams it against my knife, knocking the measly blade out of my hands. I stumble back, surprised — and Daniel uses this momentary shock to slash at my head once more.

I just barely manage to jump out of the way, but a burning jolt of pain hits my left ear the moment I do. Did he just cut off a piece of my ear?! Tears welling up in my eyes, I clumsily try and put more space between us — and thankfully, Daniel doesn't pursue. He just stares at me, irritation coming off his body in ghostly wisps.

"Don't you dare lay a hand on him," he tells me, his voice coming across as both calm and hateful.

My mouth is frozen in fear; I don't even know if my vocal chords are possible of working. What do I even say to a guy who could so easily take a few steps towards me and end my life? And what about Vesper? What happened to him?

"Do you honestly know what you're getting yourself into, staying here and fighting me?" Daniel continues, apparently using this lag in the fight to scold me. "You almost killed a thirteen-year-old boy. Killed. I know you're not that kind of person, Caio."

The fact that he knows my name doesn't even comprehend. All I can focus on is the severity of his words, how I almost just took a young boy's life away. What is wrong with me? Why didn't I think things through like I always do? Why am I moving on pure instinct when I know how high the stakes are? My life, my humanity — I can't just carelessly go with the flow when those things constantly in trouble?

"Run, Caio." Daniel's calm face has slowly morphed into a more understanding look, but his eyes are still as dark and cold as it was when he got here. "You don't want to get involved with someone like Vesper. In the end, I guarantee he'll kill you, just like how he killed my ally. Get away from this fight before it's too late. I know you like to think things through before you do something — so use that intelligent brain of yours and realize just how detrimental Vesper will be to your survival."

I'm at a loss for words. The way Daniel relayed that all to me, how elegantly and efficiently he did it... It almost makes me want to run. It makes me want to do what I should have done last night. Why did I decide to stay with Vesper again? I honestly can't remember. Just like with Ula and Kaya, staying here will ultimately drive me insane.

But yet, as Daniel and Tet both stare at me, the environment around us changes. Instead of the depressing gray clouds overhead and the drenching rain, we're in a desolate war-zone. There are gunshots ringing in my ears, screams of pain and anger filling the sky. I'm in a war. Just like my dad, when he abandoned his squad and got them all killed. Just like my dad, when he was eventually prosecuted for his rebellious past and got his entire family punished for it.

I promised myself I would never be like him. I promised myself that I would fight, that I'd never give up, that I'd win the Hunger Games without turning into a coward. But aren't you already a coward? Like it or not, Caio, his blood runs through your veins. You're already just like him.

"Go to Hell!" Vesper suddenly screams, coming out of nowhere and releasing me from my dangerous thoughts. There's a gash on the right side of his torso, dripping with blood — but as he rushes towards Daniel, axe gripped tightly in his hands, it's almost as if he doesn't feel it himself.

Daniel regards Vesper coolly, bringing his sword up in what must be an intimidating gesture. The boy from One doesn't slow down, however. Instead, he rises in speed, getting so close to Daniel that I'm sure he's about to tackle him. But he doesn't. He changes course at the last second and swings his axe straight towards Tet.

For a nanosecond, it's like the world freezes.

I widen my eyes, staring at the scene, awaiting the gruesome demise of the boy from Three. It never comes, though. Tet somehow manages to duck under Vesper's strike, insanely quick, and then shove his knife straight into Vesper's bleeding torso.

Vesper screams, so loud and painfully saddening that I cringe. Help him! I think, but my legs won't move. In the back of my mind, I know that Daniel was right. I know that trying to help Vesper will only get me killed. And I don't want to die.

I really, really don't want to die.

"Augh!" The boy from District One falls on the wet grass, not screaming anymore but moaning in unadulterated agony. Tet takes a few steps back, still clutching the now-bloodied knife in his hands. His eyes are still deadpanned, still emotionless, and I can't help but wonder what would have happened to me if I decided to strike out at the boy.

"Good job, Tet," Daniel says, softly placing his hand on his ally's shoulder. Tet looks up and smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. The boy from Seven looks away from his ally and stares at Vesper, who's moaning on the ground. "As for you..."

If you don't move now, he's dead. Despite my thoughts, I stay completely still, watching the scene play out in front of me.

"Caio!" Vesper howls, trying and failing to crawl away. The pain is just too strong, and Daniel is just too close. "Caio, help me! Help me, dammit!"

I want to move. I want to move so, so bad. But I don't. Even if I did, it wouldn't have mattered; Daniel raises his sword, whispers something I can't hear, and then lowers the weapon. The sword plunges straight through Vesper Quinn's head, immediately silencing his pleading.

BOOM!

I look away from the sight, biting back tears. He's dead. The boy who fought me, almost killed me, but spared me. The boy who reminded me so much of my friend back home. Vesper Quinn from District One is dead.

It's all my fault, isn't it? Because of my indecisiveness, I didn't step in, and now he's dead. I let Daniel manipulate me out of action. I... I'm the reason he's dead. I killed him.

Feeling the tears stream down my cheeks, I stare at Daniel and Tet with watery eyes. They're both just standing there, looking at me, the latter frowning while the former looks strangely energized. How could they seriously murder a guy like that? How can they justify something like that?

Run. Without a single word, I pick up my knife from the ground and turn around. Run. My awkward stumbling quickly turns into a jog, which then turns into a run, and finally turns into an all-out sprint. I run as fast and as far as I can, not looking behind me, hoping and praying that they aren't following me.

By the time my lungs can't hold out any longer, I'm drenched from head-to-toe with sweat and rain. I stop running in what looks like the middle of nowhere, with nobody and nothing around me except for my own demons. Daniel and Tet didn't follow me, at least.

Still, I feel heavy with guilt. I feel absolutely horrible. Not only am I the reason Vesper is dead, but I did exactly what I came in here saying I wouldn't do. I ran away. I abandoned my first alliance, and now I just abandoned my second one.

No matter what happens next, I'll always be a coward.

I'm even worse than my father.

Echo Woods, 17;

District Two Female.

Someone kill me, please.

I glare out the window, feeling a multitude of emotions in the center of my chest. Just like two days ago, there's a raging storm outside that makes it nearly impossible to go hunting. Unlike every other Hunger Games, this year is abnormally long and very uneventful. Other than that cannon a few minutes ago, I doubt anyone else is going to be dying today.

And yet, there's a part of me that's glad for this bad weather. While Terrance and I are safe inside of this barn, Kostos and Adeline have to deal with the storm. Serves them right, I think, smiling a little. I hope they get struck by lightning.

So while I'm annoyed at the prospect of spending another boring day in the barn, I'm satisfied by the fact that Kostos and Adeline are no-doubt wet and miserable. It's a conflicting feeling, yeah — but I'm grateful for the emotions running through my veins. They give me a reason to keep going when days seem too bleak. They give me a way to ignore the severity of my current situation and cut through the competition without a single care in the world.

Sometimes, I like being angry at a world that barely accepts me. When I'm irate, it's harder for people to get past my defenses and hurt me.

"Ugh," I groan, mainly because the suffocating silence is getting on my nerves just as much as Kostos' talking did.

I turn away from the window, locking eyes with my ally from District Nine. I like having Terrance here. He's knows exactly what needs to be done, and he isn't afraid to do it either. He doesn't irritate me at all — and when I think of his former position as a Peacekeeper, it reminds me of the good times I had with Reyna and our other Peacekeeper associates.

But at the same time, Terrance can be awfully boring. As I said, I like being angry — because if I'm not focusing everything on my anger, my mind finds another subject to latch onto. Like how secretly saddened I am at not having parents who love and accept me, like how secretly scared I am of never being able to see my girlfriend again. When I'm not irate and yelling at someone, these depressing thoughts come to my mind and I hate it.

Terrance doesn't make me angry — and I hate that. I almost want Kostos and Adeline back...

Almost. I hope that cannon a few minutes ago was one of them.

"You don't seem to be in the best of moods," Terrance observes, giving me one of those half-smiles of his. I roll my eyes, craning my head back towards the window. "I don't think you're one of those people, Echo, but would you like to talk about it?"

Yes. "Not particularly."

"I think you do." I hear Terrence's soft footsteps come closer. Turning back towards him, I see his little smirk is replaced with his signature indifferent look. "But you're too prideful to admit it, especially with millions of cameras capturing this conversation. I highly doubt we're being broadcasted, though, considering the death that happened just a few minutes ago. If you want to talk, well, now's the chance."

I take his words into consideration, finding no faults in his hypothesis. Wouldn't the Capitol be more interested in seeing the aftermath of a death rather than the words of a bitchy teenage girl? They would.

But honestly, I don't have anything to tell my ally. I wouldn't dare reveal how depressed I feel about the fact that my parents didn't even come say goodbye to me, or how worried I am about my diminishing humanity. I wouldn't dare tell him about the small, mingling doubts I have about the Capitol's benevolence. I wouldn't tell Terrance anything; I can barely even convince myself.

"I'm just angry at the fact that I'll have to spend another day doing nothing. There's only so much boredom I can take before it becomes unbearable," I say — and while it's not truly the stem of my bad mood, it's not a lie. Terrance hums in acknowledgment as I continue. "I mean, how is the Capitol supposed to get the entertainment it deserves when it's too hazardous to do anything out there?"

"You're right. The Capitol sure does need to be entertained..." Terrance trails off, his eyes focused on something far away. I stare at him a bit before snorting, going back to looking out the window. There's no real point in trying to have a conversation with this guy.

For a while, we just stay like this, encased in a bubble of silence. I try to focus on my anger against Vesper, Adeline, Kostos, and that nobody from District Eight who fought me in the bloodbath — but it's not really working. All I can think about as I sit here and stare at the storm is the fact that I've killed two people, that Reyna watched me kill two people, that I'm being forced to partake in this competition when I honestly don't want to.

But it's all for the Capitol. Remember, you're doing this because the Capitol needs you to do this. I try to remember this crucial fact, but it's not as easy as it used to be. The Capitol used to always be right, no matter what. But... But can I honestly say this is right?

I don't have time to think about it, though, as an extremely loud hiss cuts through our silence. I recognize that sound; I could recognize a sound like that from a mile away.

I immediately jump up from the ground, my eyes frantically searching around the barn. Where is it? Where is it? Terrance looks mildly alarmed, but not as disturbed as I must look. And why would he? I doubt he's afraid of...snakes.

Yes, snakes. I'm so disturbed by those reptilian creatures that I can barely move whenever I hear them, much less see one. When I was younger, I had a run-in with them when an infestation colonized under my parents' home. One of them bit me in the leg, and I almost died from the poison. If I was from any other district, I probably would have died.

So anyone can guess that seeing a snake in the Arena would be very detrimental to my success. It'll be even more unnerving if I hear the noise and not be able to find it — because I swear, the only thing that'll be going through my mind is the fact that there is a snake in this barn that could possibly kill me in my sleep.

"We need to find it, Terrance," I say, trying to keep my voice and emotions calm. "There is... Th-There is a muttation in this barn and we need to find it."

"It sounded like a snake," my ally murmurs, standing up beside me. I shiver; just saying the name makes me want to jump out of my skin.

Terrance goes to look around the barn, while I follow from a distance. Every small creak makes me whip my head around, so fast that I'm scared my neck might break — but every time, it's been nothing but useless background noise. We look around for what feels like thirty minutes, but I don't care how long the time passes. I'm not stopping until I know that snake is dead.

I groan, knocking over a barrel of hay in frustration. Why can't I find it? I'm about to open my mouth to complain — and that's when, at the very exact moment, I hear a noise that chills me to my very core while also defying all the laws of physics.

"Entertain usss," the multiple voices say at the exact same time. I scream, stumbling away from the knocked-over barrel, watching in horror as snake after snake comes slithering out the top.

Terrance comes rushing to my side, stopping short and widening his eyes when he sees the multitude of snakes coming out of the barrel. I can count about twenty and they aren't even all out yet!

"Entertain usss," they keep chanting in that haunting whisper of theirs. I stand frozen, mortified by the monsters that are actually talking. Snakes are horrifying in general — but talking snakes? That's... That's so insanely terrifying.

I want to run, scream, hide in a hole and never come out. But I can't. It's like my mind is telling me to hightail it out of here, but every bone in my body is too scared to do it.

"Well then..." Terrence's voice rises above the snakes', monotone but somehow determined. "It seems you're getting what you've wanted, Echo. The Capitol wants entertainment, and it's our job to give it to them."

Somehow, I force my body to turn away from the monsters and look straight at Terrance. He has his claymore held tightly in his hands, as well as a few daggers attached to his belt. He looks just like how he did when we went out to go hunting yesterday. But why? Unless...

"Are you seriously suggesting we go hunting out in that storm?" I ask, my voice low and uncharacteristically timid. The appearance of those snakes have messed my entire mind up — and as I say the words out loud, I realize that anything would be better than staying in here with these things. They aren't really attacking us, but you never know what's going to happen when dealing with things like this.

"That's a very good idea, but unfortunately I'd have to decline," my ally says, his eyes narrowed and his voice threatening. "I was hoping for a good opportunity at taking you out, and thankfully the Capitol delivered. I guess they really are most benevolent, huh?"

I can't believe the words coming out of his mouth and into my ears. Take me out? Is he planning on killing me? I instantly tense, my mind divided between the chanting creatures behind me and the lying bastard in front of me. I actually trusted Terrance, more than I trusted anyone else in this Arena — and now I figure out he's been planning to kill me for however-long? This is just too much to take in...

"Don't take it personally, Echo," he says, shrugging his shoulder. He takes a step towards me — and I want to move, I really want to, but I can't break free of this paralyzing situation. There are snakes behind me. What am I supposed to do?

"You were really planning something like that this entire time?" I manage to croak out, glaring. I feel stupid, betrayed, wounded. How did it take me this long to figure out it? "If you come near me, Terrance, I swear—"

"Save it for the little brats who are actually intimidated by you." Terrance takes one more step closer to me, so close that he could stretch out his arm and touch my face.

I realize, as he stares at me in smug silence, that I don't even have my rapier on me. When he strikes, I won't even have anything to defend myself with. So what do I do? What do I do?

"Entertain usss."

I flinch at the sound of those monsters starting to circle around us. My fear is the only reason I'm not kicking Terrance's ass right now. But right now, I'm starting to fear something even worse than the snakes. I'm starting to fear never seeing Reyna again. I'm starting to fear my death.

And I may be a bitch, but I'm still human. I still don't want to die.

Terrance raises his claymore, slowly leveling it at my head. And then, with the force of a thousand Peacekeepers, he swings it at my neck. My body moves by itself; I duck at just the right time, momentarily overcoming my fear and saving myself from being decapitated. Taking advantage of his surprise, I push Terrence to the ground, sprinting to the Cornucopia. Above all, I need to find my rapier. It's the only way I'm going to kill Terrance and make him pay for even thinking of betraying my trust.

I pump my feet, dashing across the room, away from the chanting snakes and my snake of an ally. But then, I feel something stab into my left shoulder, a rippling sensation that has me crying out in both surprise and pain. Shit! I stumble a bit, but I don't stop running. All I do is reach my right hand behind my left shoulder and pluck the silver knife out of my arm. Dammit, I didn't know he could throw knives!

"Stop running," I hear him say, monotone voice raising ever so slightly. He chases after me — and fueled by my fear and anger, I boost my speed. I am not going to let this guy beat me. I literally refuse to be beat by this sixteen-year-old lying bastard!

I make it to the Cornucopia, my eyes frantically searching for my rapier — or anything that'll protect me, really. When my eyes latch onto a chain-scythe in the back, I mentally groan, but grab at the opportunity to kill this guy nonetheless.

The weapon feels smooth and heavy in my hands. Realistically, I've never bothered learning how to use something like this. Ask me how to fight with a practical weapon, and I'd show you a few things and a lot more. But this, something I hear only the most annoying boys use? Yeah, it wasn't particularly apart of my Peacekeeper training.

But it'll have to work, I think, turning around and meeting the cold glare of Terrance Vallier. He stands a yard away, claymore gripped tightly in his hands. As I look at him, a feeling of pure loathing settles in the pit of my stomach, mixed in with a tiny bit of lament. I trusted Terrance, more than I trusted my district partner. And now he's doing this to me, using my one moment of weakness against me?

This is why I'm always keeping people away. They do nothing except try and break through your exterior before violently lashing out at your emotions. I can't stand it.

"Once again, I'm terribly sorry it had to come to this, Echo," he says apologetically, though his eyes betray any form of emotion. Why wasn't I able to see through this facade until now? "But I think you know that this has to be done if either of us is going to win."

"Shut up." I glare at him, shaking my head. I don't want to hear anything he says right now. All I want is for this shit to stop.

"Entertain usss..!" Without even noticing, I realize with increasing horror that the snakes have formed a tight circle around Terrance and I. With every few seconds that pass, the purple creatures slither a bit closer to us. They're teeth are long and sharp, and I can see the poison oozing out the tip.

I'm on a time limit. If I don't kill Terrance in the next few seconds, the snakes are going to get too close for me to concentrate. And what if they bite me, or threaten to strangle me? I can't deal with that. I really, really can't deal with it.

So without any extra stalling, I lunge at Terrance, slashing at his head with my scythe. He blocks the strike with his own weapon, being too slow to dodge it, but quickly pushes my scythe away and adds more space between us before I can wrap the chain around his foot. Dammit, don't run now. He tosses two knives at me, but I dodge one of them while blocking the other one, knocking it right out of the air and into my hand. Then, I throw the weapon right back at him — which must surprise him because he's too slow to react and gets a silver blade stuck right into his shoulder.

The pain of my own shoulder is long forgotten with the adrenaline pumping through my body. As he cries out in pain and frustration, ripping the knife out of his wound, I take this opportunity to charge at him again. Metal grinds against metal as my scythe comes for his head while his claymore goes for my neck. We push against each other, our weapons locked in a battle of strength — and he tries to spin around me again, but I quickly use the chain of my scythe and wrap it around his leg. He goes to run but gets pulled right down, slamming his face on the dusty floor below.

"Dammit," he breathes, cradling his no-doubt broken nose. I stand over him, pride rushing throughout my entire body.

"Did you really think you could beat me?" I question, laughing at his pathetic form. He tries to get up, but I quickly kick him in the stomach, forcing him back on the ground. The thrill right now is so exhilarating, so fun. I don't care to admit it anymore; right now, I'm having fun. "I'm leagues above you, Terrance. I admit, it was smart to use my phobia against me, but it'd be unrealistic for that alone to ensure your victory."

I level my scythe above his chest — right over his black, manipulative heart. He looks at me with a mixture of pain, anger, and fear. Pain at his nose and shoulder, anger at being defeated, fear at the prospect of eternal death.

"I win."

I'm about to kill him, to shove my weapon deep inside of his chest and end this little charade once and for all. But then, the unthinkable happens. A slimy, scaly snake slithers right over my foot — and when that happens, I realize just how close they all are to me. They could literally open their mouths, extend their necks, and bite me.

I scream, kicking the horrifying creatures of monstrosity away. "Get away! D-Don't touch me!" I turn around and swipe at them with my scythe, yelling curses. I'm trying to stay calm. I really, really am. But just the mere thought of these things touching me, sliding across my skin—

"Ack!"

Pain. Hot, white, agonizing pain.

I slowly look down — and protruding out of my stomach is Terrance's claymore, dripping with blood and wrapped with pink, wet intestines. Intestines. My intestines.

When I see the wound, it's like the pain picks that exact moment to triple in intensity. I scream, screaming louder than I've ever screamed before, feeling pure unadulterated agony more than I've ever felt before. And then, when Terrance slides the weapon out of my body, the pain intensifies even worse and I scream louder.

White spots explode in my vision, mixed with the tendrils of darkness forming in the corners of my eyes. I fall to the floor, gingerly cradling my stomach, trying to somehow stop the blood from forming — but I can't, because it hurts, it hurts, it hurts so much.

"I think I win," Terrance says — before the hearing in my ears completely shut down and I can't even hear my own screaming.

I'm dying. No, I can't be dying. This has to be a bad dream. This can't be real. I don't dare close my eyes, even when the darkness starts to overcome everything. I stare at the golden shine of the Cornucopia, wondering how something so beautiful can be associated with something so cruel.

Cruel, because the Hunger Games is cruel. I finally realize that now. I finally, finally realize that the Capitol was never really on my side.

Another wave of agony travels through my body, before a dull numbing starts to overwhelm me. Reyna, I think, finally allowing my eyes to close. Reyna, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.

I love you.

BOOM!

Ricky Laris, 18;

District Ten Male.

I shiver at the sound of another cannon blasting through the Arena. That's two people dead in the span of a single hour. Was there some major fight going on? Or were the deaths completely unrelated to each other? As I think more and more about it, I realize that the most possible conclusion is that the Pack found and tortured an alliance to death.

It's happened before.

What alliance has two people, though? As the rain patters consistently on the window, I ponder this thought. From what I remember, there's the District Three and Seven boys. And...

My blood immediately runs cold. No, no. It can't be her. Despite my confidence on her survival, I can't help thinking the worst. London is human, just like the rest of us. She may be beautiful, charismatic, and strong enough to punch a Peacekeeper in the face — but in the end, she's still a human-being, meaning she's still able to die.

And if you're going to win, Ricky, you know she'll have to be dead eventually.

I stare out the window, trying hard to distract myself from that cynical thought. I count the rain droplets accumulating on the window — exactly seventy-four — before I stop counting and realize the brutal nature of the Games isn't going to leave my mind anytime soon. Not in here, with every panicked look Isabel gives me and every frown Eion tries to hide.

I need to get out for a bit. Standing up from my spot by the window, I meet the confused stares of both tributes from Twelve.

"I... I'm just going out to get some fresh air," I say, nervously scratching the back of my head. I'm not scared of Isabel and Eion, definitely not, but I'm a shy guy by nature and these Hunger Games aren't making anything easier.

Eion nods. "Oh, okay. Be careful out there." He tries to smile, realizes it's not going to lift anyone's mood, and goes back to staring at the wall.

I feel so horrible about how much this alliance has changed, even without us encountering any other tributes. In the Capitol, Eion was talkative and Isabel was kind. And now that we're in here, Eion always has this depressed stare while Isabel won't even talk anymore. I'm scared for the future, of what's going to happen when the numbers eventually start to dwindle and we're the only ones left.

Will Eion attack me? Will Isabel? I try and shake that thought away, quickly walking out the room and gently closing the door behind me. I can't even imagine how I'd react if they decided to betray me. I'm so attached to the both of them, even if nobody can tell, and it'd literally kill me to see something break us apart.

I wouldn't hurt them, at least I know that much. I just hope they feel the same way...

Clutching a long butchering knife in my hand — I didn't even realize I took it with me — I open the door to the house. The first thing that hits me is the rain, hard and freezing. The second thing that hits me is the wind, strong and unforgiving.

The third thing that hits me is a large, dog-like monster. I can't even think of any other name for the creature standing right in front of me, not even a yard away. It's a monster. It has pale, sickly gray skin with disturbing spots of brown and black. It's backside is arched up, like it's about to pounce right on top of me — and it's neck is abnormally long. With piercing blue eyes and the jaws of the devil itself, this creature is the absolute definition of a Muttation.

Coming from District Ten, there's only one name I can give a beast like this: the Chupacabra. There would be so many disturbing instances of farm animals being violently killed and devoid of their blood, and yet nobody could understand how. It could have been a sick prank, sure, but that doesn't explain the lack of blood in the corpse's body. And why nobody ever heard or saw anything.

And one day, someone from the outer parts of District Ten said that they saw it: a creature on all-fours, shrouded by the night's shadow, silently tearing one of the cows to shreds. The Chupacabra, the people of Ten called it. After that, nobody could really sleep the same during the night.

And you're standing right in front of one…

I don't even have time to scream; the monster lunges right on top of me, knocking me straight to the floor and holding me down with it's super-powered paws. It's face is right above mine, inches away — and the rabid look in it's icy eyes is downright horrifying. It huffs, rancid breath overcoming my nose.

A heartbeat of silence, my blood in my ears.

Then I scream.

"Ricky!" Eion comes barrelling out of the room, his knife gripped tightly in his hands. When he sees the monster on top of me, he trips over his own feet, blanching at the sight of a creature who could easily tower above him. Isabel comes out seconds later, gasping at the chupacabra when her eyes hover over to it.

For a moment, there's nothing but silence. The monster keeps me pinned down, staring at both Eion and Isabel. The boy from Twelve stares right back at it, his hands trembling, while the dark-skinned girl from Twelve visibly fights back tears. The only sound I hear is the beating of my heart, my mind telling me to struggle but my body being unable to. I've never understood how people can be paralyzed by fear, but now I know. Now I understand.

I'm so scared. The chupacabra seems to snort, before looking back down towards me. And then, it smiles. I don't want to die…

I really don't want to die. I know, compared to people like Eion, I'm a loser. I barely have any friends, I can't even look at my crush without blushing, and I wouldn't even dare to raise my voice against my parents — against anyone. I'm too scared to work as a butcher like my father, so I spend my hours as a cashier in a flower shop of all places. All my life, I've never even truly got to live because of the overbearing adults in my life.

And now I'm going to die. It's… It's just not fair. Slowly, tears start streaming down my face. Why is life so unfair…?

The chupacabra opens it's mouth, large tongue rolling out — but then, right before I can close my eyes and prepare for the agonizing death of being eaten alive, I see Eion charge into action in the corner of my eye. He dashes towards the monster, knife raised, eyes narrowed — and before the chupacabra can fully react, the boy from Twelve stabs the thing straight in it's back.

The monster lets out a guttural sound that could possibly pass for a scream. Quickly jumping off of me, the chupacabra lunges at Eion instead. Wait, what?! I quickly get off the ground, my eyes glued to the creature trying to bite Eion's head off.

"Help me!" He yells, and Isabel and I look up at each other. Her eyes are wide, watery, terrified — and I don't even want to know how I look. It's almost as if us two are in our own world, both of us very insecure and very scared.

But unlike Isabel, I do know one good thing about myself. I'd never let my friends get hurt because of me.

I rush towards Eion, who's now struggling against the chomping jaws of the chupacabra. When Eion sees me, there's a flicker of hope in his eyes — but that hope is immediately extinguished when the monster uses that opportunity of distraction to tear straight into Eion's shoulder.

Eion screams, a shrill sound that will forever haunt my dreams. As soon as I see his face, contorted in pain, my mind goes blank. All I can feel is the smooth texture of the knife in my hand; all I can hear is Eion's pain-filled screams; all I can see is the monstrosity tearing at my friend's body.

I won't let that happen. With one last step, I jump on top of the beast and stab the thing straight in the back of it's neck.

"GO STRAIGHT TO HELL, YOU MONSTER!" I scream, latching tight onto the chupacabra as I stab and it writes and I stab and stab and stab. Blood flies out at me, landing on my face and shirt, but I ignore the sticky sensation and only focus on my desire to kill this thing.

The chupacabra has enough, though. He knocks me off, and I hit my back against the wall. Screaming incoherent sentences, real sentences, the monster sets it's now-red eyes on me and lunges. I don't think; I kick out with my foot, connecting with it's jaw and even knocking a tooth out. That's not enough to beat it, though. The chupacabra quickly diminishes the space between us and bites at my head. I can do nothing but bring my arm up — and when it's teeth sinks into my skin, a series of colors explode in my vision.

"AUGH!" The pain is worse than anything I've ever, ever felt before. I scream, kicking and kicking and kicking it's grotesque chest but nothing is working and the monster squeezes tighter on my arm and I scream again and there's blood and tears and I dont want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die—!

My heart in my throat, I scream for what I think must be the last scream I'll ever make. But suddenly, the monster makes a noise that sounds like anger and panic and surprise mixed into one deadly syllable. I squint my eyes open, tears falling out in big gobs — and standing there, it's teeth still punctured into my arm, is the chupacabra. But now, instead of trying to tear my arm off, it's just staring at me with eyes that look duller somehow.

That's when I see the knife sticking out of it's skull.

I cringe, gingerly pulling my arm out of the dead creature's mouth. What happened? I want to ask. Who did this? I still see Eion on the floor, writhing in pain with huge gash on his shoulder. So does that mean…?

Looking up, my guess is proved correct. Isabel stands right behind the corpse, eyes widened, hands shaking. She looks absolutely mortified with what she's done — but then, looking into her dark brown eyes, I see something else. Something akin to pride.

"I-Isabel," I stutter out, finding it hard to speak. Every bone in my body is throbbing, my heart pounding, my eyes burning. I'm too scared to look at what a mess my arm must be in; I don't want to have another panic attack.

The girl from Twelve shakes her head, staring at the large beast in front of us. She looks like she's about to speak, but Eion cuts her off with another pain-filled cry, and my arm feels like it's on fire. I have to keep myself from crying, but I can't stop myself from wincing.

"What are we going to do..?" Isabel asks, voice soft and hollow. She looks up at the ceiling, more tears in her eyes. "W-We don't have any supplies to fix you two up. It's all my fault… Oh my Panem, it's all my fault..!"

Before she can start hyperventilating, though, a soft ding cuts through the agonizing sadness. We both look up — and right there, coming from the open door, is a small parachute. Wait, a sponsor? I know for a fact that I didn't make much of an impact in the Capitol, and Isabel even fainted onstage. Eion did good, but I didn't think it was so good that he'd get us sponsors.

The parachute falls between Eion and Isabel, signifying that it's for the both of them. Since Eion is in too much pain to do anything, Isabel picks up the box and reads the letter attached to it. Even in the slight darkness of this hallway, I can see Isabel flinch as she reads it, but she drops the note to the ground when she's done and starts opening the box.

Curious, I pick up the note, wondering what it could say to give her that reaction.

Here's a first-aid kit and some medicine, brats. Any wounds you have, just stitch it up and rub the cream over it. Tomorrow, it'll still burn like fuck, but you won't get an infection. This cost you three literally everything you have, so don't expect anything else.

By the way, the Capitol is getting very bored with you three. If you don't start your mission to steal from the Cornucopia soon, it'll be absolute hell to pay.

—Nerva.

I feel my blood run cold, overwhelming the slight happiness I feel about receiving a sponsor gift. As far as we know, the Pack is guarding the Cornucopia with everything they've got. Isabel's plan seemed like such a good idea a few days ago — but now that we're actually here, I'm scared of the threat that going back to the barn could possess.

And so are they, I think grimly as Isabel informs Eion of the note and he just remains quiet. This isn't going to work out.

We've officially gotten our first real taste of being in the Arena, and already I can see the cracks starting to show. I don't know what to do, how to react — and I'm scared. I'm so, so scared.

And yet, the Games have only just begun. I look down at my arm, wincing at the bloody mess of skin. Scared or not, I have to be ready. I can't… I can't lose my friends.

I can't die.

Vesper Quinn, 17th: Mitchell, Vesper was an absolute bae. Seriously, he was just so fun and easy to write, and he was the first one to actually start controversy in the Capitol. Everything from his Reaping to his death… I just loved every bit of time I spent with Vesper, seriously. His anger at the Capitol for killing his parents, his anger at District One for abandoning him in his time of need - and then his small bit of development in the arena when he realized that all he wanted was someone to care for him like his parents used to. I think the exact moment he realized that, he became an immediate favorite, and I thought of him in a so much better light than just a drama-starter. Seriously, Vesper was awesome. Unfortunately, I didn't have anything more to add to him after his development. :'( Rest in peace, Vesper…

Echo Woods, 16th: Ironman, Echo started off as the easy antagonist. She was strong, ruthless, and didn't give a shit about what she had to do to get back home. But I always find angry tributes like that so annoying, because what else is there to them? Thankfully, Echo had that "something" else to her character. Her bad relationship with her parents, her hatred of the non-supportive homophobes, the worry she had over her humanity, and then her wavering loyalty to the Capitol - all of it made her angry, and yet she suppressed all of this and took her anger out on other people because it made life easier for her. She was so simple, yet so complex. I know Reyna is going to miss her, and I'm going to miss her as well. :') Thanks for submitting!

Author's Notes: OKAY! So, well, this just happened. Two deaths. I'm sad, but I'm glad that the story is finally progressing at a steady pace. Nobody likes a SYOT that goes unbearably slow, and I don't want you guys to this as that kind of story.

Other than the fact that I'm now in school, meaning update times will vary, I don't have anything else to say! I hope you guys liked the fights this chapter! I'm rather conflicted on them, tbh, but I'm always conflicted on my writing so that's nothing new.

What are your thoughts on each of these tributes? Which POV was your favorite and why? Which POV was your least favorite and why?

The numbers are starting to dwindle. You and your ally have fortunately managed to get through the brunt of the Games without any really bad instances. You know that you're going to have to split eventually, or risk having to kill each other in the finale. Do you kill your ally in their sleep, or do you tell your ally that it's time to split and go your separate ways?

Well, that's it everyone! Remember to review, please? They always make me smile, and they give me the motivation to finish the next chapter without procrastinating. :) So please do review!

BAI!