District Ten's Tanner Hart's POV

What Adrian had said to me about hiding behind fake emotions and behind swear words really hit me. It didn't hurt because he was upfront about it, nor did it hurt because it offended me, though in a way it did, it hurt because he was right.

I never opened up to people besides my friends back home. They were the only ones that knew me, or at least, knew me the best, because even I didn't open up completely to them, not even Tarbh.

It was something that I learned early in my life, talking to people is hard, and continuing a conversation with people is hard. It could be because I was never taught to talk to people outside of 's teachings. Her teachings included how to take care of animals, how to run a farm, how to keep a schedule, and how to keep working so that she can make money. So really, all she did was teach me about work, and that's all I really cared about, work. Nothing else mattered.

Work, work, and work some more, that's what I did on the farm, all by myself. I had my own section of the fields to do and the area of animals that I needed to take care of. The rest were for the other workers, who I didn't know at the time, nor did I care about who they were, as long as they did their job, like they were supposed to do. They did just that, and I was fine with that. They did their thing, I did mine. Simple.

I ate with them when it was time to eat, but we didn't talk much. Or maybe I just wasn't interested in them and I just ignored them. I know I did one of those things, but couldn't remember which one it was. Knowing me, it was probably the former.

Thinking back on it now, I wish that I had opened up to them sooner as they were good people and they did eventually become my only friends. I withdrew myself from everything social, but I didn't mind, I had more important things to do, or so I thought.

That all changed when I was seven.

I was working with the cows, trying to herd them into their pens, when some of them refused to get into their fenced in area. They were so stubborn and refused to move a single step, and I couldn't understand why.

I did everything that I could think of doing, but they still refused to budge. I became increasingly frustrated as I couldn't complete my task, so I did the only thing I could think of doing, I punched the cow in the head. I never knew how hard a cow's heads really was until I broke my wrist.

I screamed and cursed at the cow, but all it did was stare at me before moving it's head away. I hated that look that they gave when they couldn't understand why I was hurt. But they didn't understand, so, that probably why they did nothing. What's more, they still refused to move.

I cursed at them with the only curse words that I knew at the time, but then started to apologize and tell them that I didn't really mean it. I apologized for a good time before I remembered that my hand had been busted because of them.

I then saw that the gate wasn't even open, like it was supposed to be. I felt like hitting myself for not seeing something so obvious, and I normally saw situations like this. I guess it had been so routine for me to that I simply hadn't looked to see if it was open, like it always was.

Cursing all the way, I opened the gate and lead them in. They followed my instructions obediently, like the normally did when I was leading them and the gate was open. Cows were cool that way. Sheep on the other hand were not. In fact, all the animals I looked after were better then sheep as they were the ones that refused to cooperate the most.

When I was done rounding up all the cows, I continued to do all my other chores, because told me not to come back unless it was an emergency, and an emergency to her was only if I was going to die or one of the life stalks were going to die, so I ignored the broken hand, as hard as it was, and continued to work.

I continued to do everything I was supposed to do, but only at half my normal pace at best. I skipped dinner because of that. I had to get my chores done, unless I wanted to give me a real mouth full. Well, not from her per say, but the words were her's, it was just carried from her to her word courier since she was always too 'busy' to talk to us, unless she really felt as if she had to.

I worked until the moon was shining brightly in the sky, but at that moment, I didn't care what time of the night it was, I was tired, so I went into the barn where the horses were sleeping, and I laid in a pile of straw, shut my eyes, and went to sleep.

The next day, I was woken up to something hitting me in the sides.

I quickly woke up and swiftly found out that it wasn't something hitting me, that it was someone, and that someone turned out to be 's little brat of a niece.

Ilia kept on kicking me in the side, telling me to wake up and get my ass ready for work.

I then started to get up, but then she kicked me in the the broken hand, making me cry out in pain. She stopped, but I didn't care, she had kicked me where it hurt, so I got up and hit her with my uninjured hand across the face before it broke as well, causing me to shout in even more pain and frustration.

I wondered how I was going to do my work with two broken hands.

I then told her to piss off before I started to do my chores again.

I then tried to do my work when both my hands had been destroyed, and it turned as as well as I thought it'd go. It went horrible.

I only got one thing done by the time Ilia brought in D'ardaigh, a guy only slightly younger then me, and told him that he was going to be having to do some of my chores for a while. He complained a little, showing that he did not appreciate that he had to do extra work, but Ilia kept on challenging him at every turn, eventually resorting to what she'd tell her aunt if my work went undone. That shut up D'ardaigh really quick.

I then told Ilia that my broken wrists were no big deal, and tried to force them back into place, resulting in a another wet crunch occurring as I screaming in pain, again. D'ardaigh laughed and told me that my hands were doubly broken now, I told him to stuff it, Ilia groaned and called us both idiots.

I recovered for a couple of weeks, having the other farm kids doing part of my work because I was unfit to do it. It sucked, because I missed being with the animals and I didn't like sitting down on a bed doing nothing, it was boring being by myself. The only thing I could do was read the books that were left in the room, because the only other thing was to watch the sun and moon rise and set. And I didn't really read the books as much as look at the words and observe the pictures. I couldn't understand a lot of the words, they were hard. I could read, but there were just so many words that I didn't know, or could read. So I looked at the pictures and made up my own stories. It passed the time and it was better then nothing.

The other farm kids that I didn't really pay attention to, other then Ilia because she was our owner's niece, and the one that told us what to do most of the time, started to come in and check up on me. Started to talk to me. That's when I found out that talking was hard. That real talking was hard.

Sure I had talked to the animals a lot and even asked them questions about life all day, but in the end, animals didn't talk. Animals understood, but they didn't understand everything I told them. They understood 'go there' and 'stay here' and stuff like that, but they couldn't understand the feelings I had when I talked about them. So really, the only one that was talking was me, and I answered all my questions, even if they were wrong, but that didn't matter, because I had to communicate with them somehow and let out some words and feelings.

When I did talk with the kids, which consisted of Ilia, D'ardaigh, and Tarbh, I often found it harder then talking with the animals, because I actually had to wait and respond. Also, I couldn't just talk about whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, there were turns, and things that certain people did and didn't want to talk about. There were rights and wrongs, things you could and couldn't say. I found it confusing, but I tried to talk with them well, but I never got the hang of it. Talking was more complex then I ever thought it was.

The three of them didn't seem to mind, they tried to help me with my public speeches and would often offer me tips on how to improve, even if most of them didn't work on me. I was grateful.

But one day, I wasn't in a very good mood, so I just started to act like a jerk towards everyone. They knew I was having a bad day, so they didn't think much of it, but I did. I thought about it a lot, and found that being a jerk was a lot easier then being . Being blunt and cruel were easy, saying the right thing and being smooth was hard.

I still tried to be a good talker. Still tried to be like my friends when it came to talking, trying to talk right and how to come up with good reasonable responses and have a decent conversation.

Then the fights came.

The first time I went into town was when I was twelve years old, and I got into a fight with some kid that I had just met. He asked me a question, and I retorted an insult towards him because the question in general was more of an insult then a question. He got mad, we got into a fight, his friends came, my friends came, a bigger fight occurred.

Peacekeepers broke us up. The standbyers all groaned in disappointment, and that's when I found that people liked to watch other people fighting. So the next time I came into town, I picked a fight with another kid. He beat me up, but kids told me how brave I was, how strong and cool I was because I didn't back down even when my face was destroyed and my mouth was all bloody. I liked it, I liked the attention and the way people approved of me.

It was short lasted, because the fame you have after a little fight in the middle of the district was shortly forgotten for a time. So I had to find new ways to get attention. And the way I got attention was a mixture of good and bad. Sometimes it was good, sometimes it was bad, but most of the time it was a mix of good and bad. But did I care? No. People noticed me. Did I like that they looked at me negatively? Yes. But at least they talked to me, looked at me.

Tarbh told me that that wasn't the way to make friends, or to get anyone to like me. I told her that I didn't care if they liked me or not, which was half true. Because by my second trip to town, the people there only knew me as the kid who fought back.

I didn't deserve to be liked, but I still wanted to be liked. My friends seemed to understand that, and tried to coach me on how to be a better person, but the way I presented myself was set in stone. The way people looked at me was set in stone, they expected me to act a certain way, so that's how I acted.

Then over the years, I became a bigger and bigger jerk, learning new ways to curse at a person and how to get up in there face. How to fight, how to be who I am today. My cruel ways became almost second nature to me, and I started to act that way even when I didn't want to. I didn't like being a jerk to my friends, but it became so automatic that I couldn't stop it sometimes.

People, especially some of the girls for some reason, were nice to me, even if I was a complete ass hole to them, and while I did like it, I acted like an ass hole still.

I didn't like that I acted this way, but it was hard to change despite my friends efforts for me to do so.

I wanted people to know who I really was, but I couldn't just spit out what I was really thinking, they expected mean, stupid, foul mouthed Tanner Hart who didn't care what anyone else thought. Nobody but my friends knew who I really was, even if I acted like a jerk to them as well.

I never really thought about changing for real, changing permanently and show the world who I really was, showing the world the Tanner Hart that my friends knew I was. But now, with Jen dying and Adrian knowing who I was and shoving it in my face, I started to think, what the hell. I'm going to be dying anyway, what does it matter what they think anyway.

I wanted to win, but if people are only going to know the ass hole known as Tanner Hart instead of the Tanner Hart my friends knew, then... Fuck. That was all I could think of.

It was going to have to wait though, because Adrian was talking about how we should get out of here with Jen and leave Victory alone for now while I was telling him that we should attack Victory now. We talked quietly so that Victory couldn't hear us talking about betrayal.

"We need to wait for Jen to get better," Adrian told me yet again. "If we attack Victory, what makes you think that we're going to have a chance against someone that killed Dylan?"

"We don't know if she killed him or not though damn it," I reminded him. They never said that Dylan was dead, so for all we know, he got away from Victory and is alive. "Dylan could of gotten away."

"I doubt it." Adrian said. "Did you see Victory on training days? She excels at throwing knives, she'd of thrown that cleaver clean through Dylan's skull the first chance she got."

"Dylan's trained." I justified. "He'd of dodged her cleaver and would also throw his own knife at her."

"Dylan was injured," Adrian reminded me. "He was stabbed, so do you really think that he was in tip top condition? If anything, blood loss would of fucked with his senses." Adrian then looked at me for a second. "Speaking of which, how did you not get brain damaged, or knocked out at least, when I hit you with the shovel?"

"I've got a thick bastard of a skull." I told my ally as I tapped the side of my head. One of many traits that I had that helped me continue to fight, even when I shouldn't.

"I'll just go with that." Adrian muttered before continuing again. "Anyway. We can't attack Victory now, she'll kill us both, because as good as we are at fighting, we can't take out a career like her if we just charge up to her."

"Let's just sneak up on her while her back's turned." I told him, thinking that it should be obvious as that's what seemed to be the most effective method right now. "Even the most skilled person's weak if we stab them in the back."

"Yeah, but what about the other tributes?" Adrian asked. "If we leave Victory to the other tributes, she'll likely kill them, or if we're lucky, they'll kill her."

"If." I told him, thinking about IF Victory killed the other tributes. IF the other tributes killed Victory. IF when we did face Victory if she was injured or not. "There's a lot of ifs in there." I told him. "We attack her now, she'll be gone for sure."

"Yeah but-"

"No buts," I told my ally before I stood up and took hold of my huge nail and stood up. "We're going to kill Victory now before she can..." I looked up and saw that Victory was nowhere in sight. "Hey, where the hell did she go?"

"She must of left." Adrian told me.

"We talked too long damn it," I swore to my ally. "If we had just stabbed her in the fucking back like I said we should of in the beginning of this stupid conversation-"

"Whatever, okay." Adrian loudly announced with frustration in his voice. It kind of scared me as he was normally calm and collected. "Victory's gone, and so are we. The choice has been made for us, we're not going to kill Victory yet, she's going to kill some tributes or some tributes are going to kill her, leaving less work for us." He explained to me as he looked at the various exits that she could of taken. "We're not going to follow her, we're going to do something else."

"Like what?" I asked, wondering what he was thinking. If we weren't going to go after Victory, then what were we going to do? Stay with Jen and take care of her? That's what we should do since we're not going to attack Victory.

"We're going to destroy the cornucopia." Adrian answered calmly.

I felt shock as I heard what he was saying. Were we really going to do that? Was that even possible? Sure the cornucopia and it's supplies got destroyed from time to time, but it really only got destroyed when the gamemakers felt like it or some disaster got triggered and it wiped it out. How were we going to do it with the supplies we have?

"How?" I asked.

Adrian looked at the golden horn, and I looked at the various, scattered weapons across the bloodbath field as well as looking at the dead bodies that had died in the beginning stages of the game. How were we going to destroy the careers life blood with weapons? Chop the supplies to death? You couldn't chop steel. Was Adrian stupid?

No, Adrian wasn't stupid, so what was he seeing that I wasn't? I wanted to know.

"Check the backpacks and everything else around the cornucopia," Adrian explained. "Find anything that can burn, catch fire, explode, melt, or otherwise ruin the supplies. We going to gather what we can carry and use, we destroy the rest."

It was a good plan. We were leaving, so the cornucopia would be left unguarded, so if someone got brave enough to venture into this part of the arena, they'd find a bounty of weapons that they could use against us. But we weren't going to let that happen. If we found something that could destroy the supplies, Victory, and anyone else that wandered into here would find nothing but ruined, useless supplies.

It was a good plan, but the problem was finding something that would allow us to destroy the supplies.

I began searching, hoping that we found something, anything, that would allow us to do so.

District Four's Selene Ripple's POV

Temporary allies.

That's all I wanted it to be, because as much as I liked that idea of an alliance that could keep each other safe, I didn't want to be around her forever. We all die sometime, and if there was a chance that I could go back home, she'd have to die, and I didn't want to be the one that would have to do the deed of killing her.

Career schooling tried to teach you that you shouldn't care about the person you have to kill in order for you to win, that if you had to choose between you going home and the next person going home, you should choose yourself every time.

I knew that my fellow careers would choose that option sooner or later, because really, most people only look out for themselves unless they've got a reason to look after someone else. That's why I left them. I also left them because of the unstableness of the alliance and because they all seemed to have it out for me, but I mostly left because I knew that in the end, they'll all kill me one way or another.

Now wondering across the brightly lit halls of the arena, I wondered why Caritta was with me. Why she'd team up with me instead of someone else. Was it because I was a career? Was it really because she saw me as a defenseless person that she needed to protect? I didn't know, but I didn't focus to much on it, because sooner or later, we'd split up, and I'd be alone again, just as I'd want it to be.

The kids in District Four didn't like people like me, people that were lesbian, so I just kept my distance from people, and they did the same. Girls didn't want me to look at them for fear that I might start hitting on them, I kept away from them in case they started something. Same with the guys, I stayed away from them in case they started something, but they looked at me like they feared that I'd take away the girls that they liked.

The only reason why people really put up with me was because of my father's business. They liked him and the diving school, so they put up with me.

The only people that didn't seem to worry about my sexuality as much were my friends, Dawn and Melody. They didn't see me as a freak, they saw me as a human being. I still didn't like to be around them, because I knew that they were thinking the same thing as well. District Four was a homophobic district, so everyone thought something of me, even Dawn and Melody, even if they didn't say anything. I knew that they thought that way.

But they were better then the rest of the district, and I'm glad that they're my friends.

Caritta saved me from Tanner and Adrian, so I'm glad that I meet her as well, but there would be a time when we'd need to go our own ways. But for now, I'll tolerate being with her, because she was like Dawn and Melody, she didn't look at me like I was a freak of nature, she looked at me like I was normal. A person. And I liked it.

"Hey Selene," Caritta spoke up as we walked the bright corridors that now showed off it's damage of water stains, blood stains, dirt, mold, and other messes on the walls. "Do you like anyone back where your from?"

Conversation, I wasn't good at conversation unless it was with my father, Dawn, or Melody. But, I knew that she was going to keep on asking until I answered, so, I answered.

"No." I told her, thinking of how none of the other kids wanted to be in a relationship with me.

"Why not?" She asked curiously.

"Because I have a condition." I told her.

"Which is?"

"I don't want to say." I told her, hoping that she wouldn't press the subject like the interviewer in the Capitol did. I didn't want to say what it was, so why did they try to force me to say it? It was none of their businesses.

"You can tell me," She said, turning to me and smiling. "Because I bet I have the same thing."

"You do not have the same thing." I told her, doubting that she had the same kind of condition that I had. She probably doesn't even know what she's talking about.

"I bet I do," She said, smiling to me for some reason. "You like girls, right?"

I then felt myself suck in air. Deeply. She knew. But, how did she know? It didn't make any sense.

"How-" I asked.

"I should know one when I see one." Caritta said, still smiling. "Because I am one, same as you."

"You're. One?" I asked, not believing that she was just like me. She must of been bullied a lot back in her district. But, now that I think about it, maybe that's why she was who she was. During the reapings, she got hit by her district partner and was called a cunt. And during the interview, she expressed her hate towards everything. And when we meet her district partner a while back, the two of them seemed to hate each other. It made sense now.

"Yeah," She said. "And Selene, I have to tell you something."

What was it? What could she possibly want to say? And at this time of all times? "Selene. Ever since I saw you, I thought that you were pretty." Really? I felt flattered hearing that. Of course, the only people that called me that was my dad, Dawn, and Melody, but I knew that they were saying that to make me feel good. Caritta, I don't think she was just saying it. "And ever since I found out your secret, it only made me like you more."

Was she saying... "Selene. I like you."

I looked at her, she didn't look like she was lying. I looked into her eyes, they told me that she wasn't lying as well. I looked at her smiling like she really meant what she was saying as she burst into flames.

OH MY GOD SHE BURST INTO FLAMES!

I felt and heard myself scream out in fear as I turned around and ran away from the burning girl.

I hated fire!

District Two's Victory Valentine's POV

I loved this fire!

I loved the way Caritta Desin had burst into flames as soon as I threw that whiskey filled glass bottle with a burning rag stuffed inside it. A molotov cocktail as they were called.

It looked so beautiful as the bottle broke and the flames spread all over my victim's body like liquid fire, which in a way, it was.

She screamed out in agony as our career traitor, Selene Ripple, ran away in fright. Scared of me or scared of the fire, it didn't matter, she was scared, and that was all that mattered right now. She feared one of us, and she no longer cared for Caritta, the girl that had confessed her love to her. It was funny how some things can be broken so easily by one simple action.

Caritta continued to holler and run around the room, banging into walls, acting like a human candle before she fell to the ground and rolled around on the floor, trying to stop the torture that was burning her body. It was no use though, she couldn't do anything to stop the flames that were eating away at her body as her skin crackled and burned like bacon.

The smell of burning flesh and hair started to fill the air, and I knew that the cocktail that I had given her was an excellent weapon to hurt her with. Thank you cornucopia and the lights for letting me find it, and thank you fate that Tanner and Adrian hadn't found it before I did.

I felt satisfied that she had been burned enough, so I pulled out a red cylinder can and sprayed her body with white foam.

The foam covered her like sticky snow as it extinguished the fire that had been consuming her body. I sprayed her until all of the fire was gone from her body. With all that foam on her body, she looked like a bad looking, moving snowman.

I heard her hacking and coughing and wheezing, telling me that she was still alive. Good, it would of been a waste of this fire extinguisher and wouldn't of been as much fun if she had died that early.

"What the..." Caritta coughed weakly, wiping the sticky snow off her face as she cried out in pain. "What the fuck?" She was confused and in pain, a perfect combination for someone that had been set on fire. Just as expected.

I gave out a purposeful cough, startling her like a mouse that had walked into a nest of snakes.

Caritta's head slowly turned towards me, her eyes looked at me in total fear. I don't know wither her eyes suddenly got big, or if the fire had burned the area around her eyes to a crisp that it made it look big, but it didn't matter, all I saw was fear, and that was what mattered. Her skin was now black, dark red, and peeling, exposing several layers of flesh that were also burned.

I smiled as I swung the heavy red canister at her, hitting her right in the burnt face with a clank, wet snap, and a scream. Music to my ears.

The first signs of blood appeared as she cupped her nose and red appeared on the white foam around her chest and hand area. Beautiful. I felt myself smiling as I thought of what was going to happen to her next.

I dropped the canister with a loud bang before I walked up to the screaming girl, grabbed her left arm, feeling for a peeling piece of skin, found some, and pulled it with all my might. A long piece of wet and burned flesh that rained blood down ripped off her arm, causing her to scream even more. She grabbed her red skinned arm with her less harmed arm, only to give it more pain as the foam rubbed on the exposed flesh.

I laughed at her pain. She tried to comfort herself, only to get more pain in return.

I pulled out my cleaver with my right hand before I grabbed a handful of whatever was left of her hair, and foam, pulling her as hard as I could as she continued to wail. I then began to cut off her scalp as blood started to pour down the side of her head and back, staining the fake white snow.

When I had cut off all of her scalp, I forced her to look up and watch me play around with what little hair she had on her head. I placed her scalp on my head and made her watch me dance around like I was a performer. I laughed, she cried.

It was funny, but my work wasn't done yet. No, there was at least one more thing that I wanted to do to her before she died.

I stopped, placed the head of hair down on the floor, and walked up to her again. This time, I gave her a smile before I grabbed both her cheeks with my hand before turning it left, then right, examining it like a medic examines his or her patients before treatment. She whimpered and sounded like she was going to cry.

This girl needed treatment for her face, I could get rid of those burns. Permanently.

I turned her face to the side and sheathed my cleaver for something better for the operation. A toothbrush with razors attached to it.

I then began to use the improvised knife to cut a line down the edge of her face. She would of shouted out again, but with my hands on her cheeks, all she let out was a loud whimper.

I continued to drag a line down the outside her cheek bone, then started to cut in an oval pattern, using her face as a guideline.

Before I knew it, there was a ring of blood around her face with small red opening line around her head.

I placed the razored toothbrush on the floor before I reached up to her face with my now free hand. She tried to squirm away from my hand, but it was no use, I was holding onto her face and she couldn't get away.

I then felt a strong, stinging pain in my chest. I felt the air rush out of my body as I felt my grip slip. I saw Caritta try to get up and run away from me.

No you don't! I wanted to shout, but couldn't because of my tongue situation.

I grabbed her by the ankle and pulled, causing a piece of flesh and foam in the rough shape of a foot to peel off before the District Eleven girl cried out and feel to the ground and blood gushed out of her foot. She wasn't getting away without me completing my fun.

I grabbed my razor toothbrush, threw the burnt foot flesh away, and quickly crawled to the crying girl before I started to stab her repeatedly in the knee causing blood and screams to fly out.

I stabbed her five times in the right knee before stabbing her five times in the left knee so that she wouldn't be able to attack me again. There was no way that she was going to get another cheap shot off.

Placing the toothbrush down again, I grabbed her face again, and with my free hand, grabbed the edge of her face, where I had cut her, and began to peel her face off.

She wailed in agony as her face began to come off. It wasn't too hard, I had cut the outline and her face had at least third degree burns, which made the flesh come off easier.

Slowly, I told myself. Slowly, you don't want to mess this up. Caritta made it hard not to mess up, because her head kept on twisting this way and that way, almost making me ruin the face I was going to create.

But she couldn't stop me. She tried, but she couldn't stop me from doing what I wanted to do to her. I managed to peel the face off with only minor irritation as it came off like wet, sticky paper. My victim on the other hand had it much, much worse as her red and rippled skin showed the flesh and muscles were exposed. But, what did I care, she had a death wish, that much was told during her interview. She wanted to die, I brought it to her.

I brought up her peeled off face and placed it over my face and wore it like a mask. I then started to dance around again and sing like a choking person would sing like. I scoped up her head of hair and brought it up to the top of my head as well, feeling the wet flesh on my head and face.

I danced for a little bit in front of her, stomping my feet on the floor, showing off my power to her with a certain kind of joy that was filling up my mind, before I came up with a better idea. An idea that would clearly show her that I was the dominant one if she even had any doubt in her mind. I don't think she had any doubt, but, it would be fun to do anyway.

I jumped on her and started to dance on her ruined body, causing her to, yet again, shout out in pain.

One step, two step, kick kick kick. One two three, one two three, kick kick kick. Twirl your body around like you want to show yourself off and stomp if you're happy and you know it.

I playful danced and kicked her around, feeling nothing but glee.

The power to cause pain is the only power that matters. The power to kill and destroy. Because if you can't kill, then you are always subject to those that can. And nothing, and no one, will ever save you.

That's what the arena was, a place where only the strong and the willing were the ones that lived, the ones that got to go home and live in a life of luxury. That's why hardly of the lesser districts won, they weren't willing to use that power, the only power that mattered in the arena. They were all stuck with the rules of the outside, the rules that didn't matter anymore.

I was better then them because I knew what I had to do. Caritta found some of that power, but she didn't embrace them, she was all talk and nothing more. She acted tough, she talked tough, and may of even thought that she was though, but when it came down to when it really counted, all her talk was just that, talk.

I looked down at Caritta and saw the weakness, the pleading, in her eyes. It was pathetic.

I lifted my foot up and smashed it on her mouth, once. Twice. Three times. Feeling my foot destroy the top half of her mouth as her teeth fell from their ceiling. I felt and saw blood pour from the top of her mouth.

Caritta let out a muffled scream as my foot had blocked out most of the sound. I lifted my foot up again, stomping on her lower jaw, doing the same thing to her again, loosening the rest of her teeth from her mouth.

I then watched as crimson began to fill up in her mouth and her screams turned to gurgles that sent up red bubbles from her mouth. When the red liquid started to over flow, the white cubes of her teeth started to come out, along with something else appeared in the pool of blood. It was a light pink thing in the shape that looked kind of like a triangle.

Oh dear, it seems that she bit off her tongue.

No mercy, no regret, only violence. That's the way of the careers.

A/N: At first, I planned on ending it with Caritta on fire, but then I decided 'what the hell, I need Victory's view on this.'