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Night Five.

A Cannon in the Wind;

The Fifth Hunger Games.

Zander Engres, 17;

District Eight Male.

I've been walking through this farm for days now, and I haven't seen nor heard any sign of Kaya and her lackeys. None of them have died yet — thankfully, considering I want to be the one to end their lives — but that just makes me more anxious to find them. Why are all three of them still alive? What are they doing that everyone else isn't?

It's a conflicting feeling. Hell, every feeling in my body since the Bloodbath has been conflicting. I don't particularly want to kill other people — but at the same time, I do, because the rush it gives me is absolutely out of this world. I don't particularly want to get excited over another cannon — but at the same time, I do, because it just means I'm one step closer to going back home.

Home. I almost smile at the mental image of my father, welcoming me back with open arms. He was always so stoic, so indifferent to everything I ever did. But can anyone really keep a straight face after witnessing the things I've done? Can any father not smile as their son becomes a champion?

I slit a boy's neck.

I cut off a girl's head.

I'm a killer — and at the end of these Games, I'm going to be a Victor. My father will finally love me, and we can finally get over the death of my mother. Everything will finally be alright.

Not until Kaya is dead, though. I bristle at the thought of my district partner, doing who-knows-what right now. I'm usually calm; I usually keep my emotions hidden behind a wall of pure uninterest. But that was before getting reaped. That was before Kaya made a fool out of me by rejecting my alliance request and then allying with the clowns from Four. I don't take things like that lightly — especially considering all of the emotions running rampant through my body.

I barely even remember the reason I wanted to ally with her. She wouldn't stop talking during the train ride, I think, and then I… I thought of the perfect idea. I thought that I could manipulate her into doing my bidding, before I stabbed her in the back during the finale. Yes, that would've been absolutely perfect.

But no, she just had to decline. I know that my father will never know about that embarrassing moment — but Kaya knows, and who knows what kind of shit she's been spouting about me to her allies? What if she's been making a fool out of me, and the Capitol's been broadcasting it to everyone?!

"You stupid slut!" I scream, stomping the ground, clenching the two scimitars in my hands. My face gets hot, so hot that I'm pretty sure it'd explode if I got any angrier. I just can't… I just can't stand her! "It's not fair! I deserve to win! I… I deserve to win how I wanted to win! How dare you ruin my plans with your stupid, stupid, stupid—!"

I don't even know how to finish that sentence. I throw my two weapons to the ground, huffing, trying and failing to calm myself down. I don't… I don't want to lose control. I almost lost my cool during the Bloodbath, and during my fight with that dead District Ten whore, and even yesterday when I ran out of food. The rage is always there, bubbling underneath my skin, threatening to burst from even the smallest amount of pressure.

But I can control it. I can. I just… I just need to do something to occupy my mind.

I need to kill something — or someone.

I pick up my weapons, biting my lip to try and contain the growl from leaving my throat. I inhale, slowly, before exhaling. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

"Okay," I say aloud, not even worrying over the fact that I'm talking to myself. I'm not crazy. Not yet. "Okay, I'm calm. I'm calm. I just… I just need to find her. That's all I want. All I want...is to just find her...and torture her until she's nothing but a bloody piece of flesh."

But where is she?

Almost as if responding to me, I hear a loud ding come from above. I look up, my eyes widened in complete shock. Floating down towards me is none other than a white parachute, a gray box attached to the end. Is this a..?

It is. An actual sponsor. My Capitol escort, Sabina, told me right before Launch that the odds of me getting anything during the Games was slim. Apparently I'm not a fan-favorite — as if I give a fuck. So what is this? Did those idiots in the Capitol change their minds about me?

I grab the box out of the air, tearing away the white parachute and throwing it to the ground. It's a bit heavier than I expected, which makes me a tiny bit interested. What could be in here? Food would be great, sure, but I'm not exactly in an eating mood.

Opening the box, my eyes widen even more at the contents inside. First, a sheet of paper, with words sloppily scribbled on top. I move that to the side, saving it for later, and focus on the actual contents. Tilting my head, I narrow my eyes, trying to figure out what it actually is. It looks like a bunch of tan rectangular bricks, tied together with black, red, and yellow wires. Turning the box around, I see that there's a sort of alarm clock attached to the back of the bricks, with a big red button on the left side. Now what in the hell could this be..?

...Oh.

I almost drop the package when I realize what it is. A bomb. An actual bomb.

A chill runs down my spine, despite the tingle of excitement flowing through my veins. Why is the Capitol giving me a bomb? What do they honestly expect for me to achieve with something like this in my possession? I mean, sure, it's easily the most destructive thing in the arena right now...but how am I supposed to use this against someone when I don't even know where anyone is?

Immediately, the thought of the Pack comes to mind, hiding in the Cornucopia like scared puppies. I could go back to the barn, leave this there, and then run away as the Pack explodes into fiery nothingness. That would be three competitors already out of the way, leaving less than half of us in the arena.

But I don't want to do that, I mentally pout, frowning at the idea of ending my quest for Kaya. I have no business with the Pack — not yet, anyway. All I want to do is end my redheaded district partner before someone else beats me to the punch. But if Kaya saw me with this bomb, there's no doubt in my mind that she'd turn tail and run before the explosion could hit her.

"...Meaning this stupid thing is useless!" I scream, clenching my fists to keep from slamming the contraption to the ground. Instead, I reach down and pick up the note I carelessly threw to the side. Maybe this will tell me something else I could do?

Zander, it's been really tough, but I've managed to scrape up just enough money to send you this bomb. Be very grateful, okay? Basically, the main reason you've managed to get this is because most of us Capitolites have fallen out of favor with Ms. Vause. She's openly rebellious towards us — and that's not a very good look, I'm sure you'd know. Nobody really understands why you have a personal vendetta against Kaya, but nobody cares at this point. If you want to kill her, use this map to go to her destination, and throw the bomb inside of her house. I'm sure you know the consequences if you should fail.

P.S: When you get back to the Capitol, you MUST try this cinnamon-dipped apple! It's healthy while also being absolutely delicious!

— Sabina.

My eyes widen as they skim over the note, excitement suddenly pumping through my veins. Turning the paper over, a smile slowly creeps along my face. It's a map! A map of the entire arena! I study the paper thoroughly, taking note of the fact that the Pack seems to be completely separated, as well as the fact that there are only twelve of us left in the arena. That nervous-looking boy from Four seems to have abandoned his two allies, interestingly enough, who both seem to be huddle inside some house.

That's where they've been the entire time? A stupid house?! A surge of rage fills my veins — but no, no, this is good. This is great. I'll deal with the District Four boy afterwards, but I'm going to end both the District Four girl and my district partner in one foul move.

I take one more look at the map of the arena. Inside of the Cornucopia is the boy from District Twelve, while the girl from Twelve seems to be stuck inside another house directly adjacent to Kaya's. The two boys from Seven and Three are inside of the last house, and the boy from Nine isn't too far from them. The girl from District One is off to the edge of the arena, doing who-knows-what, while the boy from Two is located in some kind of wheat field. The boy from District Four is near a lake, close to the District Twelve girl, while the girl from Six is close to the Cornucopia.

"Okay, this is perfect," I say to myself, rolling the map up and placing it in my pocket. I focus my attention to the bomb in my left hand, almost grinning at the huge amount of power I possess right now. I could seriously hurt somebody. I could kill them. No, I wouldn't get the satisfaction of watching them slowly bleed to death, but I would be rid of another competitor. And Kaya Vause.

Yes, she dies tonight.

Ula Dylan, 18;

District Four Female.

Something is coming.

I don't know how I can tell, or why I can tell, but I just know that something bad is about to start. They've let Kaya and I sit in this house for literally three days, while half of us tributes are already dead. We haven't contributed to those deaths whatsoever — and unless they like listening to Kaya go on and on about random things, then we haven't been the most interesting tributes either.

So why? Why hasn't the Gamemaker done something? I expected him to at least send a few muttations our way, but it's almost as if the Capitol has forgotten about us.

I know that I should be grateful — but I'm not. I'm not grateful for being in these horrible Games, even if I'm not being targeted. No, I'm nervous, almost anxious that something really bad is about to happen to us. Maybe not tonight, but what about tomorrow? An entire week being in the arena and not a single kill? That's nearly unheard of.

"It got dark quicker than I thought it would," Kaya notes, staring out the window. There's a constant frown on her face, but she almost seems content being in this dilapidated house. Better than being outside, I guess, but still. Kaya's tranquility almost bothers me.

Shrugging, I open my mouth to quietly respond. "I guess we'll be able to see who died soon."

Morbid, I know, but it's hard to disconnect myself from the reality of things. I'm in the Hunger Games. People have died. If I'm not careful, I could die. And I don't want to die. I can't afford to die. My family wouldn't be able to keep going without me.

Kaya is the one to shrug this time, though the sadness shining in those bright blue eyes of her is almost overwhelming. For such a fiery girl, she sure knows how to let her raw emotions show. I'm almost the exact opposite. Nobody ever really knows how I truly feel about things. Nobody ever really knows my true personality. I've been called bubbly, I've been called dangerous, and I've been called sneaky. I am all of those things — but at the same time, I'm not.

It's easy to fake my personality and be exactly what people want me to be. Years and years of observing people have blessed me with this skill. The Capitol sees a girl that will do anything for them. Kaya sees a girl who shares her own loathing of the people who've placed us in here. My family sees a protective older sister who wouldn't hesitate to defend her family.

I'll be all of those people to get back home — or none of them at all, if I need to. I just… I just really can't meet my maker in this place. I just can't. I'm afraid of death. The unknown usually intrigues me — but with the cold sting of death, it's terrifying.

So I can't screw up. I can't forget the real reason I'm inside of this arena. I can't let the idleness of the Games distract me from the ultimate outcome. Twenty-three of us dead, and one of us left alive and traumatized.

"Tell me about your sisters," Kaya suddenly blurts — and just like that, my brave facade trembles. What? "I mean, I don't have any siblings. My mom didn't even plan to have me, at least not as early as she did. My auntie was sorta like a sister to me, but… Anyway, yeah, I want to know about your family. I like knowing how people's lives contrast to mine."

I bite my lip, trying to keep back the rushing emotions. I haven't talked about my family since my interview, and even then I was only giving the audience what they wanted to hear. A perfect life for the Capitol's perfect puppet, after all. And besides, I'm more of the listening type anyway. That's probably why Kaya and I get along so pleasantly, because she doesn't stop talking and I don't stop listening.

But she wants to know about my family. Why? Doesn't she know that knowing more about your ally will just make it hurt more when they're dead? Why doesn't this redhead from District Eight understand that the Capitol isn't the only enemy?

I'm the enemy. I may not want to be, but I am. I am and I hate it.

"Um…" I shift uncomfortably, resting my head against the wall. "Well… My mom was brave and...and she was very, very kind and selfless. She was so selfless that...that she ended up getting herself killed because of her...intense sense of justice."

"That sounds like me," Kaya whispers, already hooked.

I nod, gulping down tears. Why are you breaking down, Ula? Mom's been dead for so long now. Haven't you moved on?

...No, I haven't. I really, truly, honestly have not moved on from my mother's death. The Capitol killed her! They burned her alive! They threw her into a building and set the place on fire! How can anyone get over the fact that their mother was murdered in cold blood? How can anyone get over the fact that the people I'm trying to charm are the same group of people who did that horrendous act towards her?

"I bet they recorded it, too." Tears stream down my cheeks, but I make no move to wipe them. As soon as the dam falls, there's no way to stop the water from rushing past my defenses. "Those sick bastards… I bet they recorded the moments until my mom's death. A-And why not..? Why wouldn't the people who glorify children murdering each other? Who says that they aren't laughing at my mom's video right now? Who says that they aren't laughing at me?!"

I jump up from my spot on the floor, slamming my fists against the wall. Why have I been trying to woo these evil people? Why have I been trying to make friends with the very people who murdered my mother?! What kind of sick, demented, selfish person am I?!

"I HATE YOU ALL!" I scream, punching and kicking the wall. "WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?! WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO TEAR FAMILIES APART?! WHAT GIVES YOU PEOPLE ANY RIGHT?! THIS IS EVIL! THIS IS SO, SO, SO FUCKING EVIL!"

I bring my hands back to slam into the wall, but Kaya suddenly grabs my wrist, stopping me. I whirl around, snatching my arm away, grinding my teeth and glaring to keep from sobbing. Instead of Kaya looking scared, however, she looks almost...understanding?

"Ula, calm down." There's a softness to her voice, but it's almost drowned out by the intensity she's giving off. Hard, unadulterated determination. "Please, just listen to me. Calm down. I've wanted to explode like that, too. So many times. And I have. Every day we were in the Capitol, I cried and broke down in my room. But I promised myself that I wouldn't let them see me cry. And I won't. They don't deserve to see us at our worst, or else they've really won."

I start panting, trying to keep my sobs at bay. The tears still stream down my cheeks, but I try and give my ally a reassuring smile. "It's…" I gulp, laughing at my own expense. "It's so hard, Kaya… It's just so hard sometimes…"

"I know…" She reaches out to touch my shoulder, but then grips my hands instead. With her blue eyes sparkling, she shakes her head. "It's the hardest thing in the world, but we'll make them pay. I promise. They're going to pay for what they've done to—"

That's when everything explodes in a blur of red and black.

A sharp, haunting boom hits me straight in the brain, forcing the tears out of my eyes and a scream out of my throat. I stagger, falling to my knees — only for the floor below me to crumble and break apart. I scream again, reaching out for my redheaded ally — but I can't reach her. The sound of screaming and breaking and worlds falling apart unfurl throughout the darkness flashing in my eyes. Before long, I realize that I'm falling, falling, falling. The smell of gasoline hits my nose, horribly putrid, before another smell permeates throughout my body. A familiar, evocative smell.

I hit the ground hard, landing straight on my right leg. My weak leg. I scream again, clenching my hands to keep from blacking out. The pain is almost unbearable. Almost. Tears streaming down my face, I bite my lip and groan, turning to lay on my stomach. Darkness creeps at the edge of my vision — but no, no, no. I can't black out. I have to fight through this — whatever this is.

"Ula!" I hear someone scream from the floor above. I force my neck to move, looking up at the gaping hole in the ceiling. Did I really fall through that? "Ula, oh God, Ula…!"

It's Kaya. I can barely make out her face due to the smoke blinding and suffocating me. She screams out more panic-induced words, but I can barely hear her anymore. The pain is too much. The confusion is too much. I don't… I just don't know…

Stop! I scream at myself, biting my tongue to get a grip on reality. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, but I relish in that sort of pain. That pain means I'm not dead. That pain means I'm still alive. I need to think rather than panic. I need to figure out what happened and fix it.

Searching through my scattered brain, I try and replay the events leading up to this moment. Kaya asking me a question. Me breaking down and screaming at the Capitol. Kaya grabbing my hands and reassuring me. And then…

The house blew up.

That's the only way I can explain it. The house erupted in a big fiery explosion of black and red. The floor beneath me fell apart, and I landed all the way down to the first floor. Kaya somehow managed to stay upright on the second floor. But why did this happen? Did the Capitol do this because of my rebellious outburst? Did they seriously turn on me the exact moment I revealed my true feelings?

I'm sobbing now, lying on the dusty floor because I don't have it in me to move anymore. My entire body hurts, physically and mentally. I feel betrayed; I feel heartbroken; I feel angry.

But more than anything, I feel fear. I feel regret. I don't want my little sisters to watch me die like this. I don't want them to have to go through the pain of losing me. I don't… I don't want the last memory of their older sister to be me screaming and cursing at the walls.

That's why you need to move…! I grit my teeth, reaching out to grab a broken table leg. The smoke is getting thicker, and it's getting harder to breathe — but I must fight through it. I can't, I won't, I refuse to die like this.

Through Kaya's screaming and the sound of the entire building falling apart, my ears pick up on something else. Something that the smell of smoke can't block me from. Something that nothing could ever really block me from, not after what happened to my mother. Fire. I can hear the fire burning away at the wood, getting closer and closer and closer to me. I can feel the heat radiating off of the flames, burning away at my skin with every second that passes.

"No..!" Panic rises above the fear, frantic and strong. I shake my head, grabbing the broken table leg and pulling myself farther from the fire. "No, no, no..! Kaya, p-please, I need you..!"

I start to cough — and I can feel my bodily organs beginning to shut down. I spit the blood out of my mouth, using all the strength I possess to pull myself away from the monstrosity that is fire. But I'm not fast enough, nor strong enough. The smoke is getting clogged up in my lungs, and the pain from my leg is far too agonizing to fight through.

The first licks of fire touch at my feet, burning away the shoes and leaving my skin defenseless. I scream, louder than I've ever screamed in my entire life. I can't die like this! I can't! Please please please don't let me die like this! SOMEBODY SAVE ME!

In the last moments of my life, it's not my sisters I see, nor do I reminisce of the sweet times I used to have with my family. The last thing I see before my world turns to black, and my screams turn to pain-filled sobs, is my mother lying right next to me, screaming and crying as she swings against the flames.

It's only natural that I die the same way.

Kaya Vause, 16;

District Eight Female.

BOOM!

At the sound of Ula's cannon, shaking the arena, it's as if my entire world falls apart. It's the exact same feeling I felt years ago, when I heard that auntie Keira was killed during one of the infamous District Eight bombings. The exact same sensation of hopelessness. The exact same sensation of regret. The exact same sensation of heartbreak.

Back then, the first thought that came to me was to cry. Because what else was I supposed to do? The most important person in my life was dead. Back then, crying was what made me feel better, if only momentarily.

But after a while, I realized that crying wouldn't do anything. I realized that my auntie was still dead, and that the Capitol was still the same, and that absolutely nothing had changed. Someone precious to me had died — and for absolutely nothing. A lifetime of love can't be fixed by a simple hour of tears.

No, tears were useless.

After the depression of losing auntie Keira passed, that's when the mind-numbing anger took over.

That's exactly what takes over now, as I stare down at the hole in the floor, my friend's corpse being burned to a crisp.

"ARGH!" I can't help myself; I grab a portrait off the wall and slam it on the floor, relishing in the sound of glass breaking apart. "THIS IS SO—" I stomp on the portrait, crunching the broken glass under my boots. "—SO—" Tears spring to my eyes, but I quickly wipe them away, falling on my knees and pounding against the shards of glass. "—SO FUCKING RIDICULOUS!"

There's a conflicting set of emotions battling in my body right now, each side trying desperately to take over. There's the part of me that wants to break down and sob over the death of Ula, a girl who volunteered only to save her younger sister. She didn't deserve to die like that — stricken down by the Capitol just because she let her true emotions momentarily show. Nobody deserves to die just because their opinion doesn't connect with the Capitol's almighty regime.

But then there's the other part, bubbling stronger and stronger underneath my skin. The part of myself that wants to break out of this arena and claw away at each Capitolite until they're all nothing more than blood and bones — even the children. Oh, and I can see it now; I can see myself as I stick my fingers through President Kronin's eyes and tear him apart from the inside-out. I can see myself as I grab my escort by her fatty rolls of flesh and slam her head into the concrete, harder and harder and harder until her skull cracks in half.

It's disgusting— no, they're disgusting! They're so fucking evil, so conceited, so monstrous that I can't even see them as human anymore!

And I want them to die. I want each and every one of them to die a slow, painful, agonizing death.

I want them all to burn.

"KIDS SHOULDN'T BE KILLING KIDS! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?! HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE HOW HORRIBLE THIS IS?!" I scream as loud as I can into the air, frantically pulling at my hair to keep calm. But I can't keep calm. This is just… This is just too much. How am I supposed to be able to cope with all of this craziness?!

Zander slit Breno's throat. Caio abandoned us during the night. The animals attacked us with the pure intent to kill. And now, just because Ula had a tiny moment of weakness, that old fart of a Gamemaker blew her up.

So much shit has happened — and how am I supposed to be able to handle this on my own? I'm just a sixteen-year-old girl. I came to the Capitol thinking that maybe I could change everything. I came thinking that maybe I could be what Panem needs, that maybe I could change this country all on my own.

But I can't. I can't…

Oh my God, I can't…

"Don't let them see you cry," I mutter to myself, gritting my teeth, glaring through the tears. There's a sharp ache in my chest, like a knife just went through my ribcage, lathered with acid. My stomach is churning; my heart is racing; my head is throbbing. I want nothing more than to just fall over and cry myself to death, yet at the same time I want to fight through the hurdles and come out on top.

Don't give up, Kaya. You can't give up now. You can't.

But what's the point? Panem won't be changing. I can't change anything. I never could.

Yes you can. You can, and you will. And what about the problem at hand? You're in the Hunger Games. If you don't get up, the smoke is going to suffocate you, and you're going to die.

...So what? Maybe I should die. Winning wouldn't mean anything, not after twenty-three others have been publicly executed for that to happen. Living a life like this...just isn't something I'd like to do.

Even as the thought comes to mind, my arms and legs seem to move on their own as I push myself to my feet. Vision blurry with tears, I cover my mouth and nose with the crook of my arm, being careful as not to ingest any smoke. I need to get out of here, I think, desperately looking around. But how am I supposed to do that? There's no way I'd be able to jump over that large hole in the floor — and even if I could, going downstairs with that huge fire is not the smartest idea.

Suddenly, I randomly remember my first day of school. The kids all asked how my hair could be so red, and I offhandedly remarked that I was born on fire. Now that joke doesn't seem to funny.

The smoke is getting higher, thicker. I fight back a cough and continue looking around for some kind of exit. I don't know why I'm still trying to survive, especially with my entire morale burned to a crisp. Maybe it's the human's nature for self-perseverance, or maybe it's something mystical at work — but whatever it is, it's the only reason I have the energy to find the silver sheen of my sword lying on the floor.

I grab the handle, feeling a surge of power surge through me as I equip the weapon. I've been dealing with swords for my entire life — and even though this one was made by the Capitol, I still can't help but feel a sense of relief flood through my veins with it in my hands.

Now you just need to find a way out. I look around, trying to find out if there's some hidden escape route somewhere — but no, there's absolutely nothing. I'm trapped. Oh God, don't tell me I'm trapped up here, destined to slowly suffocate to death. That can't be how I meet my maker in this world.

That's when, underneath the smog of smoke, I see the slight sliver of moonlight coming through the window. As soon as my mind registers the window, my body moves on autopilot and I rush towards the glass with as much speed as I can muster. Closing my eyes, my shoulder makes impact with the window and breaks through the glass, shattering everything in it's path.

My body keeps moving. I hop over the small ledge and roll across the roof. With my heart in my throat, I feel myself fall off the roof — and for a moment I'm suspended in air, just falling with the wind blowing against me. But I'm not scared. There's no room for fear in my body, not anymore. The utmost thing on my mind is survival — and getting revenge on the sick fuckers who did this, no matter what.

The few seconds spent in the air are long gone as I make impact with the ground. I gasp, landing on my shoulder, feeling a sharp sting travel across my arm. There's a split second of pain as I lay on the grassy ground, staring at the starry night sky above — but that pain quickly turns to relief as I register that I'm outside, staring at the sky, safe.

I'm alive.

But Ula isn't.

The adrenaline in my body is slowly coming to an end, allowing the many cuts and bruises I have to make themselves known. My entire body is throbbing in pain — but that pain just fuels the anger I feel, popping and scorching in the pits of my chest. I want revenge. I really, really, really want revenge. Those Capitol bastards killed Ula, right in front of me.

I might not be able to change this horrible country, but I promise that I'm not going to rest until Ula's killers are brought to justice. Even if I have to skin them alive, pull out each of their teeth, I will get my revenge. No amount of physical pain will be able to stop that.

"What?!"

I jump at the sound of that eerily familiar voice. Is that..? Looking up, I see that the source of that voice is none other than my district partner. Zander. What is he doing here..?

"Z-Zan—?"

"How could you still be alive?! That's impossible! How does someone survive a bomb?!" Zander stands still, at least twenty feet away, but the two blades in his hands are sharply uncomfortable. They're almost threatening.

But wait… What did he just say? How does he know about the explosion? Why does he look so disappointed in my survival..? There are so many questions running through my brain, and yet so little answers. But still, there's one thought that makes it to the very top of my thoughts, screaming at me to garner attention.

Breno.

"...Why..?" I shakily stand up off the ground, gripping my sword in my right hand. My thoughts are a frenzy right now, and I'm trying to keep my emotions away for now, as not to blow up on my district partner. "Why did you— Why did you kill Breno? What did he ever do to you, Zander?"

"Breno?" Zander's expression is one of disinterest, before his lips curl into a devilish smile. "Oh, that guy during the Bloodbath? Well, I couldn't find you, so I thought that I might as well gain your attention. Did it work?"

My blood runs cold. Zander really did kill Breno — and he did it to get my attention. He did it because he couldn't find me to slit my throat. After all this time, my district partner's skewed personality starts to make sense. His adamance on getting me to ally with him. His malevolence towards me after I allied with Caio, Ula, and Breno. His implied threat during his interview with Aeliana Devrine. All of it finally starts making sense — and God, oh my God, Zander is a complete maniac.

"Unfortunately, I couldn't find you after the Bloodbath, so I had to kill this other girl to keep me busy. It wasn't much fun, though, trust me. Really quick and clean. I wanted it to be drawn-out and bloody." Zander sighs, shaking his head and letting his unkempt red hair bounce up and down. "But tonight, I finally managed to find you! The Capitol so graciously gave me this map, as well as a bomb! They want you dead, just like I do! Isn't that just the most crazy coincidence?"

My head is starting to hurt, and my vision is getting blurry. Zander's words are so disturbing, and they're just pouring salt into currently bleeding wounds. I don't know whether to go with my gut or to believe everything that he's saying. And if he's telling the truth, that means he's the one who killed Ula. He's the one who tore another hole into my already-damaged heart.

His voice gets dramatically lower, and the spark in his eyes border on insane. "I guess that I'm kinda relieved you survived the explosion. Now I can see you die with my own two eyes…"

Zander killed Ula.

"You don't know how long I've been meaning to kill you."

Without warning, Zander charges at me, his two blades glinting in the darkness. Fire erupts in the pit of my chest — an angry, confused, powerful fire that threatens to destroy anything and everything. I let out a guttural scream, raising my weapon and slashing down at his neck. Zander blocks the attack with one of his blades, using his other one to cut into my torso. I jump to the side, narrowly dodging the blow and earning a small cut just above my hips.

"YOU KILLED THEM!" I yell, swinging furiously with my sword. He doesn't say anything; he's the one to jump away this time as I slash and strike at his body, doing everything in my power to cut my district partner to shreds. "YOU— I NEVER DID ANYTHING TO YOU! AND YOU KILLED THEM! YOU KILLED THEM!"

He laughs, somehow getting past my defenses and shoving me away. I fall flat on my butt, but then I roll to the left to avoid being skewered. Now the roles have been reversed; I'm doing everything in my power to avoid his swinging blades, while he's slashing every which way to decapitate me. I quickly crawl to my feet, ducking under another one of his strikes, feeling the wind pass me by in a horrifying whoosh.

I could seriously die here.

I'm obviously more experienced, but Zander has two weapons. I have a burning flame of determination backing me up, but the craziness in Zander's eyes is nearly deadly by itself. In a way, we're evenly matched, district partners squaring off in a fight to the bitter death.

It's exhilarating — and so very scary at the same time. I don't want to die. I can't afford to die. Not without doing everything I've wanted to do in this world. Not without getting my revenge.

And when you want revenge — really want revenge — then you're going to get it. One way or another, retribution will be dealt.

"Stop running, you worm!" Zander screams, his face contorted in an insane scowl. Gripping both blades, he swings them both at the same time, aiming both of them right at my neck. I quickly duck out of the way — but he must have expected me to do that, because his knee suddenly collides with my nose.

I scream, falling right back on the ground, instantly bringing a hand up to stop my bleeding nose. Pain blossoms in the center of my face, hot and cold at the same time, but it's because of my insane adrenaline that I'm not writhing on the ground. Instead, I immediately jump back up, bringing my hand back and chopping down with my sword. He doesn't expect that — or maybe he just can't move fast enough to avoid it. Whatever it is, the surprise on his face morphs into a grimace as my sword sinks deep into his shoulder.

Yes, I think, allowing a small smile to grace my features.

"YOU BITCH!" Zander screams. He immediately releases his weapons and lunges at my neck. I can do nothing but gasp as his cold, long fingers wrap around my neck and squeeze with the force of a thousand Avoxes. Darkness lingers at the corners of my vision — but no, no, no, no, NO. I won't let him do this! I punch at his face with my left hand, eliciting nothing more than irritated groans as my strikes hit him over and over again. I try to kick him where the sun doesn't shine, but it's like he can see into the future, because he brings my face down and knees me once more in the nose.

I hear a crack, and hothothot pain flares across my entire body. It's almost agonizing. Whimpering now, I let go of my sword, instead trying to pry his hands off of my neck. But it doesn't work. He's just too strong.

"Aw, what's that? Come on, Kaya, I expected a lot more from you." Zander laughs — a taunting, maniacal laugh that sends shivers down my spine. "You don't have anything to say? Really? I thought Ms. I-Talk-A-Lot would have a lot of words she'd like to say before her death. Aren't I right?"

The darkness stretches. The pain intensifies. All I can do is open my mouth to scream — except no sound comes out. For a split second, I terrifying second, I really do feel like I'm going to die. I really do feel like my time on this earth has come to an unsatisfied end.

No, you can't let this happen. Zander killed Breno. Zander killed Ula. You can't let him kill you! You can't let someone like him win! He goes against literally everything you stand for, Kaya. You can't…

You can't die.

...I can't die!

With one last surge of strength, I bring my right hand back and punch him straight in his throat. He coughs in pain, eyes widening in complete shock. For a second, his grip on my neck loosens — and that's all the time I need to bend down and grab my sword from the ground. Zander lets out a flurry of curses, lunging at me once again — but I don't let him get far this time. With the oxygen coming back to my body, I feel strong again. I feel invincible.

I slash upwards, slicing right through Zander's left arm. He shrieks, falling to the ground right next to me. His arm, now limp and bloody, goes flying through the air before landing on the grass a few feet away. A tense, almost disturbing silence fills the area when I realize exactly what I just did.

I cut off Zander's arm.

"YOU— YOU—!" My district partner is at a loss for words. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he screams in agony, gingerly touching where his arm used to be. "YOU CUT OFF MY ARM..!"

A sickening, horrible feeling emanates through the pit of my chest, but I manage to swallow down the bile. Replacing that sick feeling is the same anger I felt minutes ago, when Ula was blown up and burned alive. It's the feeling of absolute misery, remorse, rage.

"AND YOU KILLED BRENO!" I bring my sword up again, levelling it above his left arm. He stares at me, eyes widening, shivering in what must be the worst pain imaginable. "You don't deserve to live, not after what you've done."

I stab Zander's left arm, ignoring his pain-filled screams. I then slice through it, cutting it off just like with his right arm. His screams have turned to sobs now. Disgusting, unfair sobs. People like him don't deserve to cry. People like him, who nonchalantly go along with the Capitol's wishes, are nothing but trash. They all need to be eradicated.

The Capitolites and him. I'll eradicate them both.

"THIS ISN'T FAIR…!" Zander's writhing on the floor, crimson red blood pooling out of his wounds. The sight is almost terrifying to look at, but I can't seem to tear my eyes away, as if glancing another way for one second will give him the chance to disappear. "I WAS SUPPOSED TO WIN. I WAS. I WAS… I WAS SUPPOSED TO…"

He trails off, staring into the sky with a deranged glint in those brown eyes of his. His chest rises, one more time, before it drops. And it doesn't come back up.

BOOM!

I wince at the sound of his cannon, instantly remembering Ula's. His pain was nowhere near her pain. His screams were nowhere near as loud as her screams. And it's all his fault, too. The Capitol chose him to do their bidding, and he agreed wholeheartedly. Now my friend is dead — and I'm alone. I'm alone. All because of one maniacal boy and an unjust society.

Feeling the tears starting to come back, I raise my sword and bring it down upon Zander's head. The blade enters his corpse like a soft balloon. Blood squirts out, and a nightmarish squelch rings through the silence — but I don't care. I just don't care anymore. He shouldn't have gotten the easy way out. I should have tortured him.

I stab Zander's dead body again, and again, and again. I stab him until he's nothing more than an unrecognizable pile of blood and flesh. Even as the Hovercraft comes to pick up what's left of his body, I don't stop. I won't stop. Not until the hole in my heart is filled with the sweet, righteous juice of vengeance.

Not until I've gotten enough revenge on the people who've ever harmed me.

Even though I know I'll never be able to get enough.

Ula Dylan, 12th: publicfigure, I am extremely sad to see Ula go. She was a little bit of everything in one character, and I loved that so much. People were honestly a bit uptight about her volunteering for her sister, especially with her damaged leg, but I personally enjoyed writing Ula and her quest to save her sister. Without that small detail, I feel like I wouldn't have been able to connect with Ula's character as much as I do now. She just wanted to protect her family while also doing anything she could to survive the Games, even if it meant lying to millions of people. Her personality differed from person to person, and ugh, I can't. I loved Ula. I really do. BUT hey, if you're up-to-date on my Hunger Games series, then you'll see that Isla ended up winning the Games in remembrance of her sister. :') I truly loved her, and may she rest in peace...

Zander Engres, 11th: Hoprocker, can I just say that I anticipated writing Zander the EXACT moment I got him. Seriously, the fact that you basically gave me such a good plot-character was just amazing, and I knew that I could do a lot with him. I seriously could have done so much with Zan. His mother's death and his father's indifference really had an effect on him, and it caused him to become a person that he truly wasn't. In my world, Zander wasn't the antagonist. He wasn't anything like that. He was just a kid who was mentally broken and obsessed with gaining his father's love. I'll miss him, and may he finally rest in peace...

Author's Notes: Okay this is my favorite chapter ever. Seriously. I've been anticipating this chapter for a long while, okay. I know it might not look as good as it did in my mind, but I don't even care anymore. I finished, and that's all that matters. :)

Sorry, once again, for the long time it took the update. But honestly, I'm a busy person, and I can't even begin to make fanfiction my first priority, even if I wanted to. So yeah, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, but don't yell at me on how long this took because blegh.

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

You just killed for the first time. And not only did you kill, but you left their body unrecognizable. How do you react to this? Do you vomit in disgust? Do you cry in guilt and shame? Or do you smile victoriously at your mini-victory?

Not many reviews last chapter, but that's okay! I really do appreciate all the ones I've been getting! Hopefully, if you have time, I'd really love a review! Especially from those people who seem to have left me. :)

BAI!