District Three's Caia Wicken's POV

The mutts were approaching me, and that in itself was scary, if not outright terrifying.

The way they seemed to slowly get closer and closer to me with each step they took, like they were savoring the pleasure of my fear, like they wanted to see in and fear and see if I'd run away or not.

Would they get an easy meal, or would they get two meals that they had to fight for? That was the choice that I'd have to choose, and I wasn't sure which one I wanted.

The closer they got, the more certain I got that they'd have to fight for the chance to get a bite out of either one of us. I was going to protect Kendrick, partly because he was my ally, my district partner, and I needed him to help me move forwards. But I was also going to fight the sick looking mutts because I was trapped between them if I choose to stay with him still.

I still didn't know if this was the right choice to make, and that's another thing that worried me. I didn't know what I was getting myself into, but as I took another look around, I knew that it was too late to back out of it now. The mutts had closed off all my exits, and now all I could do was fight. It was the only option left.

I knew what I was going to do now, but that didn't make it any easier. There were still so many things to plan out, and I wasn't sure how this would go, or even end. I was used to knowing what was ahead of me, complete with all the steps to achieve my goal. Now wasn't one of those times. I was going to have to do something that I hadn't done since I was small, I was going to have to improvise, and that scared me.

My hands gripped the L shaped pipe even harder, getting ready for the fight that was going to happen.

I looked from one mutt to the next, wondering which one would strike first. They were unpredictable, you didn't know wither one would attack, or would another attack first. Would the one on my right attack first, or would the one on the left attack first? Maybe they'd all charge at me all at once. I hoped that didn't happen, but all this thinking didn't help calm my nerves.

I felt dizzy, disorientated, the need to vomit, and the fighting hadn't even begun yet. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all.

I heard the mutts growls get more and more harsher, more aggressive. They were ready to fight. I wasn't sure if I was.

Please Kendrick, wake up, I can't do this by myself.

I suddenly heard one of them stepping quickly, their footsteps rapidly getting closer to me. I looked to the left, and saw that one of them was charging at me. His hands were held out in front of him, like he wanted to grab me as soon as he came within reach. His cave of yellow and black teeth told me exactly what he planned to do when he did grab me.

He closed the distance quickly, and when he was a little further then striking distance, I swung the lead pipe at him. It made contact with his left shoulder, causing my attacker to stumble to his right before he dashed past me.

I turned around, to see that another mutt was running towards me, but didn't have his arms ahead of him, he was just running towards me with hunger in those sick, yellow irises of his.

I swung the heavy weapon at his head, and made contact with the side of his neck. He crashed to the floor like a crate of machine parts.

Suddenly, I felt rough, bony, hands that were missing huge pieces of flesh, grabbing me around the shoulders, chest, and right leg. It startled me to say the least. Three different mutts had grabbed me, if I was feeling it right, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling. One I might be able to handle, but nothing more then that.

I screamed in fright as I swung my weapon and kicked around and tried to hit whatever was around me, only to feel my leg get pulled forwards. I quickly lost my balance, and felt myself falling for a split second before I landed on the floor. My sight filled with stars as colourful galaxies swirled about and pain radiated across my back and the parietal part of my skull.

I twisted my body in every direction, trying to free myself from the grips I was being held in. I got my leg free, but the one that was holding my chest and shoulders continued to hold me tightly.

I then felt myself being dragged across the floor before I saw myself eye to eye with a yellow eyed mutt with red spider webs mixed in with the milky whites. She opened her mouth and howled, causing me to nearly gag as her breath smelt of the dead. I turned my head away as I saw her rows of teeth descend upon my face, only to feel agony erupt on my right cheek, left shoulder, and right ankle. Did didn't happen all at once.

I screamed and swung the pipe as I tried to fight my way out of the grips of the mutts. But the more I fought, the more hopeless it seemed.

The pain I was experiencing suddenly turned into pulsing wildfire. I felt the bare air brush against my injuries before I shouted out again in agony as they tore at my flesh.

I then started to feel knives start to dig into my flesh. They dug and dragged across my body, spreading the fire across my body and letting it seep deeper into me.

I continued to swing my weapon around, beating off any mutt that tried to bite into my chest, but they continued to attack my legs, shoulders, and face.

I turned my head to avoid getting bit more, but all that did was get them to rip into another part of my face.

I tried to get them away from me, but there was just too many of them, and they were holding me down, making me virtually helpless as they bit, but still I tried to get away from them.

This pain though, this pain was becoming too much, and I hated it. I just wanted it to stop.

Please God! Just make it stop!

But it didn't stop, the mutts continued to bite into me, feasting on me like I was their final meal. I continued to wail and throw around my weapon, hoping that I could get them off of me. I wanted them off me, I needed them off of me.

Dear God, I could hear them ripping my flesh off! I could hear them munching on the meat that was me! I could hear them grunting, tearing into the tough muscle of flesh they had extracted from me! I could feel each one of their pointed fangs sink and tear into my feet, ankles, shins, calves, shoulders, and occasionally, the side of my face! I could feel their breath breathe onto me, it was a cold and reeked of death.

Moving hurt, but the fear of what would happen to me made me move. I didn't want to die, so I fought, but my fighting wasn't good. I wasn't strong, I was never good at the weapon stations in the training room, and I was never good at fighting in general.

I regretted volunteering for the games, but now I really regretted it. I never knew that the games were this painful. Sure the tributes looked like they had been in pain when I watched them back home, but now that I was actually feeling it, it just seemed a whole lot worse.

I continued to throw the lead pipe around, but then another mutt leaped on top of me, crushing me, and preventing me from swinging my weapon around.

I tried to struggle, but the weight of the mutt on my chest was too heavy, and there were at least five other mutts holding me down and attacking me all at once.

I was helpless. I knew it. The mutts knew it. It was a terrifying feeling, one that made me feel as if my heart was sinking into a bottomless pit, but I continued to struggle anyway as I started to feel rows of teeth sink into my right arm.

Suddenly, I felt blazing hot knives pierce the flesh above and below my right eye. I felt myself howl in pain before I felt the fire on my face close together, before I felt unbelievable pain explode as fire and daggers consumed everything from my right eyebrow to my right cheek. All the while, I felt sharp objects drag across my skull.

As I shouted in agony, I saw that half my vision had gone dark. I wanted to reach up and cover my eye because of the pain. It was then that I realized, I didn't have a right eye anymore, and that made me scream all the more.

The mutts continued to chew on me, rip my flesh from my body, drag their teeth across my bones, and spread the pain across my body.

This torture seemed to be endless.

I wanted nothing more then for this to end!

Then without warning, I felt a heavy weight fly off my chest. Then I felt the mutt chewing on my right cheek get, painfully, ripped off of me, taking a piece of me with him. The other mutts came off rapidly, but not without consequences. Parts of me had gotten ripped off along with my attackers.

What was happening now? Were these mutts running off so that the audience could see me suffer in complete pain? Or did Kendrick finally wake up? I wanted to think it was the later, I didn't want to suffer anymore for audience's sick entertainment.

I wanted to know if it was the later, so through my pain, I looked up, turning my head more to the right then I normally would have to, and through half a vision of darkness and red, I saw Kendrick fighting.

Kendrick, fighting the mutts single handedly with the lead pipe that had somehow left my hands without myself feeling it.

My ally was injured and covered with blood, he had flesh missing from his face, his arms, his chest, and his legs, but still he fought, bashing in skulls and arms and chests with an iron pipe.

I watched crimson and yellow cubes fly out from the mutts as they fell to the ground one by one. My ally showing them no mercy as he destroyed them.

He continued to get bit, tackled, clawed, punched, but he kept on going. He looked unstoppable against the group of hostiles.

Then the last mutt fell down, dead, half her skull was destroyed, allowing blood and brains to fall free from its prison, and splatter to the floor.

Kendrick was breathing heavily while also having blood splattered on him and his weapon. It made him look scary.

Kendrick then dropped the lead pipe, dropped to his knees, and fell to the floor and started to cough out blood.

He laid their for several seconds before he started to slowly crawl towards me.

I watched him crawl, amazed at how he still had the strength to do so after fighting around a dozen mutts, and receiving injuries. But then I remembered that I had my injures, and I was still conscious.

Kendrick came closer, and closer towards me, until he was within reach of me. He then stretched out his arms, placed them on me, and pulled me close.

"Caia." He said as a red stream poured out of his mouth. "You all right?"

It was kind of stupid question to ask, considering the circumstances.

"No." I told him truthfully, as I continued to feel the wildfire inside my body.

"Same here." He told me. "But I'm glad your alive."

I felt the same way, even though I was in pain. I wanted it to end, and in a way, it did end. But the attack was over, and I was still in pain. Fire and needles still burned inside me, and I was still in the arena.

My fate was still up for debate, and I didn't like one of my choices. I didn't want to die in the arena, I wanted to go back to District Three and be with my family, because how would my siblings fare without my help when mom and dad were away at work, which was almost all the time. They couldn't take care of themselves, so how would things go without me?

How would my parents react to my death? Would they be able to support everyone without me working?

Those questions, and more, were rushing through my head as Kendrick held me.

But at the same time, I was glad that Kendrick was still alive. He had saved me, and despite his injures, he had continued to hold onto life. Zeal hadn't taken his life, and neither had the mutts. He continued to hold onto life.

Not only that, but, even though I kind of knew it already, I can't make it in the arena alone.

"Same." I told him. "And I'm glad that your still alive."

I was independent and pretty self confident in my abilities back home. But as soon as I entered the arena and got attacked my Calamity, I started to doubt myself.

I was unsure of my choices, and nothing seemed to be completely right. Almost every plan we had upon entering the arena, had gone up in smoke. There was something new coming up, and nothing was ever as I hoped they'd be, and that worried me. A lot. "Kendrick?"

"Yeah?"

"Am I useless?"

He gave out a rough laugh that sounded painful to even do.

"I wouldn't be alive if you were."

District One's Calamity Mershade's POV

Of all the things that could of happened in my life, why did I have to be the one to experience the consequences? I had never done anything bad. I mean, anything really bad. Kind of.

Sure I had been like any other normal kid to a point, being a brat would be considered normal for most families, but I had never really done anything really bad.

It wasn't until Zane came into my life that everything started to turn to hell.

When he first came around, I welcomed him with open arms, glad that someone was giving me a chance. After all, I was basically alone with only my family with me, so I guess I couldn't blame myself for getting close to Zane.

I became friends with him, we did everything together, I shared everything with him, he was my best, and only friend. Because really, no one wanted to be with me, the shy, hidden kid who didn't speak up. The one that stayed away from people because he was afraid of them.

It wasn't until I turned eleven that I finally made my first friend, who wasn't Zane. The first friend that my parents thought was actually a friend, because to them, Zane was nothing, nothing but a figment of my imagination. They were half right, because Zane wasn't real, but at the same time, he was all too real. Much too real. I didn't understand it at first.

As I started to see my new friends, Zane became less and less needed, but he was still my friend neither the less. We continued to hang with each other, talk about other people, especially my new friends, and how great they were.

My parent approved friends were great. They helped me turn into a more outgoing person that wasn't afraid of as many things as I was before, made me more...normal. Got me out more and socializing with other kids. They got me out of my shell, got me into a better life. It was wonderful.

But then came the black out periods. They started when I was, more or less, twelve years old. It was a time of great turmoil, when it didn't make sense. I'd be minding my own business, then I'd black out, and when I finally came to, things would be different then from when I had left off. People would be hurt, I'd be hurt, things had been stolen, people would look at me funny, friends would leave. I couldn't explain it, and I often wondered why it had happened and what had happened during those black outs.

I quickly found out that I'd do horrific acts out of the blue, just because I seemed to feel like it. My new friends couldn't handle it, so I was basically back to square one. Then the fire came, and down came the house, killing my family, leaving me with only two people, Zane, and Ruby.

But then Ruby had been taken away from me as well, and I was thrown into that correctional facility that attempted to 'correct' me.

It didn't work, all it did was give me less control of my body. Through all their atrocious acts, they made me less like me, and Zane more like Zane. They gave him new ways to control me, new ways for him to find control. Sure they gave me ways on how to suppress him, but he found ways to counter them.

And the environment in that facility was a god send to Zane, but a living nightmare for me.

In there were violent, unstable, sadistic people all with mental problems. Though there were some people there that weren't violent, or unstable, or sadistic, you could be sure that they all had something wrong with them. That made it easy to find the violence that Zane thrived on. Sometimes, all you needed to do was look at someone a certain way to set them off.

Some of the others, you couldn't get them violent, some of them were people that were too scared to do anything, too fearful of other people and what was outside their room. Some of them were more of a harm to themselves then to others. I remember one such girl that was literally eating herself to death.

During the day, you had to watch out for the guards beating you, dragging you off to try out another 'treatment option', or having them try new things out on you just for the fun of it. Their treatment options were horror shows, complete with physical and mental pain and trauma. You'd have to watch out for the other inmates as well, as they were unpredictable and could turn violent in half a second. Even just watching some of them do what they did was bad enough.

During the night, it was worse. You could hear the crying of the prisoners, the wails of pain, the muttering and chanting, the crunch and ripping of something. You could hear footsteps that seemed to come from everywhere, all the time. Rats would sometimes crawl up to me and take a bite at me, until I swiped my hand at them and they scurried away.

Sleep didn't come easy. The mattress were cardboard thin, and so were the itchy, surplus blankets that were stained with piss and feces and other foul things. That, added with the cold floor and the noise that seemed to go on all night, made it even more difficult. Sometimes though, they wouldn't allow you to sleep. Sometimes, the guards, or the doctors, would shine lights at you, clang buckets in front of you, shout things at you, or inject you with drugs to force you to stay awake. There were also drugs to give you hallucinations. I had never gotten one, but one person across from my cell got one, before he beat his brains out on the prison wall.

The correctional facility was a place of nightmares.

So I escaped.

But, I wished that I hadn't. Because things only got worse from there.

What are you thinking about Calamity? Zane asked.

Thinking about the time you burned my house down. I told him bitterly. Thinking about the time you burned my house down and killed my father, mother, and sister, and brother, all of whom was still inside that death trap.

Oh yes. Zane said with cheeriness. He was smiling. I remember that one well.

You should. I told him. You did it.

With you.

I never took part in that.

In a way you did.

Shut up Zane!

You know Hale, I think that. No. I know that you'll fail, living up to the name Calamity, because your going to fail-

In the middle of Zane's speech, which I was going to tell him to shut up again, a sudden slicing noise occurred. Zane noticed it as well, and he quickly jumped out of the way of something cutting through the air.

As my heart seemed to skip a couple of beats, I realized that a cleaver could of buried itself into my chest.

Zane looked in the direction the cleaver had came from, and I saw that Victory Valentine was lighting up a rag stuffed into a bottle of alcohol. The rag got consumed with flames before Victory launched the homemade fireball at me.

As the fireball catapulted towards us, I wondered if I'd get consumed with flames, or if Zane would avoid it, because he didn't seem to be doing any evasive actions at the moment.

As the molotov cocktail neared us, Zane reach into the air, and caught the glass bottle with his hand, before he threw it back at it's maker. I was slightly relived that Zane had caught it, but also disappointed.

As the fireball returned towards Victory, Victory did a jumping spin before she kicked the molotov back towards me. Zane didn't move. The molotov sailed towards us, but we both knew that Victory hadn't hit it hard enough for it to hit us. And we were right, the molotov exploded on the ground, consuming part of the hallway in a wall of flames.

The flames didn't reach me, but I could still feel its intense heat.

Well. Zane said, almost monotony. This might prove a problem. I couldn't agree more.

Suddenly, a spray of white appeared, right in front of me. Zane raised his arms, blocking the cool, white foam as it covered the arms before I felt something hard slam onto my arms.

Zane stumbled back a couple of steps before I felt a hard object get slammed onto my chest. Once. Twice. Three times, each time it knocked the wind out of me, before Zane fell on his ass and I was looking up at Victory with a fire extinguisher in her hands, pointing directly down at my face.

Zane lifted up his right leg and kicked at her, only for her to grab his foot in her left hand, her right hand was still holding onto the extinguisher. Victory then slammed the red cylinder on the ground as Zane had moved his head away at the last second as he spun his body around and kicked Victory with his free foot. Victory let go of his foot an instant before Zane shoulder rolled forward, out of arms reach of the attacker.

Zane, still on his knees, then turned back towards Victory, eyeing her up and down.

She's really pretty. Isn't she?

I didn't even get a chance to even think before Victory pulled out a length of chain from her belt before charging towards Zane.

Zane gave out a quick kick, but Victory easily dodged it and attacked him with her chain. The chain whipped through the air before it lashed across Zane's face. Zane grunted out in pain as fire ripped across his face. I gave out my own little grunt as well, feeling some of his pain.

Victory then slammed the red canister across Zane's upper jaw so hard I was surprised that I wasn't gagging on teeth. In an instant, the chain whipped across across his face again, before the extinguisher was hit across the side of the head again, before the Zane ducked, and the chain swished harmlessly over his head.

With the opening presented to him, Zane uppercutted Victory with all his might. Victory was hit with such force that she nearly lost her footing. With the girl stumbling, Zane grabbed the fire extinguisher and, while Victory was still holding it, Zane slammed the top handle part into her face.

Zane then hit her in the face a second time with the canister before he ripped it from her hand, pointed the nozzle towards her, and unleashed a winter storm towards the District Two girl's face.

Victory was blinded, and Zane was going to attack her some more, but what neither he, nor I, expected her to charge towards us with her chain running wild. Zane deflected the chain attacks with the fire extinguisher, but the weapon's backlash struck the fingers and forearms. Zane was getting himself injured in new places because of that.

Then without warning, the chain wrapped around the red can like a rope. Victory pulled the chain, and the extinguisher was pulled from Zane's grip. It didn't go so well though, because Victory's face was still covered with white foam, and the canister landed behind Victory, got untangled, then rolled into the fire.

Zane rushed towards Victory, but Victory must of heard him charging, because as Zane attempted to slam a fist into her face, Victory bent forward, and used Zane's momentum to throw him over her back. Zane flipped end over end before he slammed on to his back. Pain rippled through his back as a rapid build up of heat occurred on his left leg.

I turned my head, and saw that my foot was in the wall of fire. Zane then pulled the leg out of the fire and started to beat on it with his bare hands. Since the blaze wasn't that big, it was quickly beaten out. Zane then quickly got to his feet.

Victory, her face now cleaned, followed up her previous attack and attacked him with the chain again, using the chain like a whip. She struck Zane in the face, again, causing another line of fire to occur across his face.

Victory then whipped the chain down again, but this time, Zane grabbed the chain and pulled on it with all his might. The girl from District Two, with the power of Zane's pull and her own momentum, was pulled forwards. Her face rapidly got closer to Zane's before he head butted her, causing her nose to snap and a couple lines of blood started to drip from her nostrils.

Victory grunted in pain before she slammed a fist into Zane's face, not once, not twice, not even three or four times, but five quick, but solid times as she mounted on top of him into a totally non-sexual, fully frightening way as she looked like she was in pure rage.

Zane gave out a strong right punch to her face as well, but with all the swirling colours and stars in his vision, he was swinging wildly. He managed to hit her in the throat, causing her to gasp for breath before Zane rolled his body over with his legs wrapped around the girl's waist, causing Victory to roll with him unwillingly.

Zane then got on top of her before he started his own barrage of punches to her face. Zane hit her once, twice, three times. But on the third time, Victory had opened her mouth, causing Zane to punch inside her mouth, and when he did, Victory closed her mouth, sinking her teeth into two of his knuckles. Zane grunted loudly in pain, before he ripped his fist from her mouth, leaving behind a large piece of flesh. Zane then cried out in agony.

Taking advantage of his pain, Victory, with her left hand, pulled out a crude, homemade knife of hardened plastic and thrust it right at Zane's right eye.

Zane was injured, but not out of commission. When Victory tried to gorge his eye out, he grabbed her wrist and twisted it, hard. The knife left Victory's grasp, but the length of chain she was holding with her right hand hadn't, and she used that length of chain, now wrapped around her fist like improvised brass knuckles, slammed one of her chain wrapped fists against Zane's face.

Pain exploded in the left side of Zane's face as Victory forced him to roll to his side. Zane was so close to the fire that we could not only feel it's intense heat threatening to eat us, but we could also smell the metal and smoke burning beside us.

Victory wasted no time slamming her chain wrapped fist into Zane's face. Colourful splashes filled his vision as Zane reached up and grabbed her right ear before pulling down on it with all the power he could muster.

Victory tried to fight it, but pain, and the reflex of a human being, won out as she rolled off of him, and went into the deadly wall of fire. Her gagging screams quickly followed.

God damn bitch! Zane shouted as he got to his feet. Face hurts like hell, and look at what she did to my hand! Zane then held up his injured right hand, which I looked at, and saw that his index and middle knuckle had been stripped of flesh from the first joint of the fingers, to a little below the knuckles themselves. Beneath the flowing pool of crimson, I could see bones.

Doesn't feel so good now that the fist's on the other side, does it Zane?

Fuck off Calamity!

It was then at that moment that a figure burst from the flames.

Out came Victory Valentine, and she was on fire!

Holy fuck! Zane and I shouted simultaneously as tackled us, sending us to the ground.

Taken completely off guard completely, Zane was helpless for the first five of Victory's revenge blows with her heated chained fist. The blows to the face hurt even more as they were fueled by anger, adrenaline, and fire.

The fact that Victory was on fire and coming at us was scary enough, but the fact that she could still think clearly enough to attack us was even more frightening. And the fact that I could still see her face twisted in anger made it even worse. Sure she wasn't completely engulfed in flames, but damn, her clothes and hair were burning! So was some parts of her flesh! And was she gagging on swear words?

Zane grabbed her face and managed to guide his right thumb towards her left eye before he pushed down on it with all his might. Zane's thumb was pressing against her eyeball, and he pushed and he pushed, until the eye ball exploded like a grape and covered his thumb with warm, red, gooey substances. But that didn't even seem to slow down the girl on fire, which was absolutely terrifying. She had been beaten, was on fire, got her eye gorged out, and she still kept on going. Was she unstoppable?

Zane then raked his free hand across her face, giving her four red lines to admire, before he kicked her square in the face. Victory fell back a little before Zane kicked her across the face a second time.

Victory fell to the floor with a thud.

She tried to get up. Zane was quicker.

She only got to her knees when Zane gave her an almighty kick to the face. Victory fell back to the floor like a sack of stones.

Bitch!

Zane shouted before he started to stomp on Victory's head.

Zane only got in one stomp before Victory rolled out of the way.

Zane then kicked her in the stomach before she swung her burning body around and stabbed Zane in the shin.

Zane cried out in pain before Victory leaped up with speed that I had never seen before, and with a second knife in her opposite hand, she thrust that weapon right into Zane's stomach. Before either one of us could react, Victory sliced a horizontal line through Zane's gut, causing grotesque, overgrown worms covered in blood and slime to spill from inside our belly as well as build a fire of agony in that exact spot.

Zane reached down with his left hand to prevent the worms from spilling to the floor as Victory ripped the knife out of Zane's shin and thrust it right at Zane's head. Zane, upon reflex, held his right hand out in defense, only for the hardened plastic to stab right through the near center of the wrist.

I howled with Zane as Victory twisted the sharpened plastic in my wrist, and sliced through the hand, causing a rapid flow of blood to burst from the limb.

I looked at my hand, and saw, in horror, that it was hanging by only a fraction of what used to be a wrist. I felt like shouting out every swear word I knew, it was that painful, and more.

Zane, doing the swearing for me, kicked Victory in the chest, sending her to fall back into the wall of flames.

I turned my body around and started to retreat. Zane didn't say anything as the sounds of Victory's gagging screams erupted into the air.

An explosion suddenly occurred behind me, almost making me jump out of my skin, an instant before I felt bits of hot shrapnel hit me in the back like blazing hot needles. Several other pieces of shrapnel flew past me like buzzing flies. I figured it was the fire extinguisher that had rolled into the fire. Victory was in the fire, that explosion will probably kill her, though I wasn't going to take the chance to see if it was true or not. She was injured by Zane and the fire, the explosion will probably finish her off in three minutes.

Fucking bitch nearly destroyed us! Zane screamed before he stat out a thick wad of blood.

I couldn't help but laugh and cry at the same time.

Damn it.

District Eleven's Adrian Colton's POV

Tamers.

That's what my friends and I were called back home. We tamed animals, mostly peacekeeper dogs. That was our jobs, and we did a damn good job of it, it gave us enough money to live a comfortable life. My dad being childhood friends with the mayor and my mom coming from the middle class helped as well, but it was thanks to me and my friends being close with the peacekeepers that allowed us to thrive in District Eleven.

How does one go from being a normal kid to being a peacekeeper animal controller? Simple really, I just had a way with animals, as did the rest of my friends.

We started by just playing around with the newborn pups, which we didn't know were peacekeeper mutts. The peacekeepers saw that we were teaching them how to roll around and stand on their hind legs, so they stuck us a deal, train their dogs for them, and they'd pay us. We accepted, but not without some heavy thinking. After all, peacekeepers weren't exactly the most popular group in the district.

Soon, we started to train their animals, and we succeeded with it.

Soon, I became as close to friends with some of the peacekeepers, such as Scotch, without really being made life a little easier back home. But it didn't come without it's consequences.

There were people that didn't like me and my friends, because we were seen as Capitol lap dogs for helping the peacekeepers terrorize the district. We helped them train their dogs to attack and utterly mutilate those that opposed them. And let's face it, peacekeepers, as I said before, we're the most popular group of people around.

My family was well favored by the district, but that wasn't always so.

Because of my dad being friends with the mayor, and my dealings with the peacekeepers, we were often shunned upon by the common folks, even though we were more like they then they'd of liked to admit. Because believe it or not, dad grew up in one of the poorest parts of the district, and people tended to forget about that. He made his, if you could really call it, fortune, by buying, selling, and doing deals, with the middle and upper class citizens.

My mom wasn't very popular either, because when she married my dad, they thought that she was only marrying him for the benefits, not out of love. They couldn't see past the wealth, and the way we never really spoke badly about the Capitol and the games.

There were reasons for that. We didn't speak bad about the Capitol, because that was an invitation for a whipping by the peacekeepers. We didn't talk badly about the games because while they were troublesome, there was nothing we could do about it. Talking, wasn't going to change what the Capitol did to us, and talking wasn't going to change how we sent in twenty four kids to fight to the death. So all and all, they were really only one thing, troublesome.

So in order to not be hated by the Capitol side of the district, we obeyed the law and helped them with what they needed. Because while we were close to friends, the peacekeepers and the mayor, wouldn't hesitate to whip and execute us, because it was their duty to uphold the law, no exceptions. And I couldn't really blame them for that, if they let people get away with things, more people would start to do it, and the district would become chaos.

In order to not be hated by the common folks of District Eleven, we showed them that we were no exceptions to the Capitol's ruling, and did the tasks of normal people out in the open. I helped people with their farming, their repairs, and whatever else they needed help with, even if it was looking after their kids while they were gone.

It was hard work, but people eventually warmed up to my and my friends and family, because we were now seen as more 'normal and citizen like'. Though we were still frowned upon sometimes because we were still seen as Capitol ass kickers.

Jeana didn't like that we were shunned by the district when we did so much for them. We didn't belong with the peacekeepers, and we didn't belong with the people of District Eleven. In fact, besides each other, we were closer to the peacekeepers then the common folks, which was odd considering that it was supposed to be normal to hate the peacekeepers.

So I did the only thing that I could think of that could help me cope with the ever going conflict between choosing sides that would never accept me. I choose to not care, at least on the outside. I appeared to be more lazy then I really was, I choose to look as if I didn't care about lots of things, and I would often explain things to a minimum, because not many people wanted to hear everything I knew.

But when it came to actually working, I didn't do anything half assed, because that simply wasn't the way of the Colton family. My dad didn't work half assed to become successful, my mom didn't work half assed to keep us going, and my brother didn't do his work half assed either. He worked just as hard as I did when it came to jobs. So I did the same as well, I worked with all the skills I had, and most people would say that I did a pretty damn good job when I did things.

Life of favors and well being, didn't mean that living was easy.

I looked at Jen, and wondered if it was the same way for her, or if she lived the luxurious life and was able to live it to the fullest without having to prove to everyone that you could, indeed, fit in with them. Or was she an outsider, like me.

I looked to Tanner, and knew that he belonged with his district, more or less. Though he was still more like me, hiding emotions and putting on fake ones, becoming someone that he wasn't.

We all hid things. I wondered what Jen was hiding behind that confident, smiling face of her's.

"Adrain." Tanner's voice called out, causing me to stop thinking of hiding behind physical and emotional masks that we called our personas.

I looked to Tanner, seeing that he was looking at the pile of weapons and supplies in front of us. "Ready to burn this bitch down?"

I smiled, thinking of how Tanner thought we were going to burn the actual cornucopia down, but I had then told him that burning the horn was beyond what we could be. So we were just going to burn the supplies, that was a lot easier.

"Yeah." I told him, before I lit a match, and tossed it to the items soaked in flammable liquids.

The liquid caught on fire, and spread to the items, letting the flames feed on them until there was nothing left. Everything that we weren't carrying with us was in the fire, and it wasn't going to go into the hands of anyone else.

I looked at the blood writing on the golden horn, and read the words on it once again. 'I don't want to play anymore' it read. "Lets get out of here." I told Tanner as I thought of how I was thrust into this game and how I wanted nothing more then to get out of it.

I don't regret volunteering, because I saved lives, a lot of lives, unlike Caritta. What I regretted was going into this arena, and being part of this game, knowing that I'd have to become like the careers in order to get back home. I was going to have to kill sooner or later, that much was known.

Looking at those words, I couldn't help but think that they were wrong. I didn't want to stop playing...

I never wanted to play in the first place.

District Eight's Vida Rosalyn Harkle's POV

Violence.

It was the only thing that I really knew. Violence was everywhere, a daily occurrence, and something that you had to live with. And violence had no loyalty, because one moment it's your friend, then the next moment, it's your enemy. Violence doesn't know the difference between friend and foe, only that it's meant to hurt, or even kill. It doesn't have a mind of it's own, which is why it has to be directed towards something, or someone.

That's it's downfall. It can be directed towards anything and anyone.

Looking at the mutilated face in front of me just reminded me of just how true that was, and it wasn't something that I wanted to ever remember.

Back home, fighting and voicing my opinion was always the answer, because if people didn't like me for who I was, so be it, they could all continue to be people who talked behind people's backs and back stabbed them at their own convenience. At least I'd be upfront with them, not hiding anything.

But there was such a thing about being too upfront, and this was one of them. I let my actions speak, and bad things like this happened.

One time, I got mad at Breanne over something stupid. I can't remember what it was, it was that stupid, but I got mad at her, and I did the two best things I was best at, I yelled at her, and it hit her. It made me sick even thinking about it.

I hated myself for that, and I never got over it. Breanne was my only friend, and I hit her, abused her, yelled at her, and for what? I can't remember. Breanne, the shy, yet kind girl who stuck with me, even though I was horrible to her.

I didn't do it just once to her, I had done it too her too many times for me to be considered her friend. She would of been better off if she left me, stopped being called my friend, and tried to become friends with kids that weren't like me. Then she wouldn't of had to suffer through our friendship, because she wasn't a fighter, not even close to one. As much as I hated her for not being able to stand up for herself, I had also told her that I admired her for her self control.

Somehow, through everything I put her through, she still called me her friend. I didn't deserve to be called her friend, because really, I was just an out of control girl who knew nothing more then how to hurt people.

Just like I had done with so many others, I had done to those that I liked, or even more then liked. I liked Timber, but I fought with him during the few days we knew each other. I loved Breanne like she was my sister, but I had beaten her like I fought Timber, who was a lot tougher then soft little Breanne. I loved my parents as well, and I gave them nothing but a hard time.

No matter where I was, no matter who I was with, I was just one thing, a spark. A spark that would create a fire, a fire that would burn anything in my path regardless of what they were to me, or anyone else. If there wasn't something to set fire to, I'd pour something flammable on it before creating the spark to ignite it.

This girl had helped me, and I killed her as repayment. Breanne was my friend, and I fought with her more times then the bullies at school. My parents gave birth to me, raised me, and gave me the best life they could give me, and I gave them a hard time about it.

I was no different then the violence I gave out.

As I continued to cry, I felt something painful suddenly appear inside my throat. It was as if a giant hole was ripped inside my throat. I felt my eyes expanding painfully, like they were going to burst from my sockets as I felt my tears turn warm and thick as everything in front of me turned dark red and black. I felt myself gagging on something warm and thick and metallic tasting.

I was dying, and I was scared. But I wasn't scared of death itself, I was scared of what I'd find after death. Would I meet Breanne in the afterlife? I was scared of how she'd react to me. Would she still be my friend?

If there was an afterlife, I'd try to be a better friend, because as I found out long ago, but never tried to change, friends don't treat their friends like enemies.

So this was death huh? Figures.

A/N: I'm not really sure about this chapter. I haven't been feeling well, so there might be more mistakes then usual, though that wouldn't be saying much.

I hope I did the fight between Victory and Zane justice.

Sorry about Vida getting a short segment.