Oh, she don't see the light that's shining
Rhoda looks at the mountain towering to her right, blotting out the sky, blotting out the sun, blotting out the clouds, blotting out the stars, blotting out everything. The sky is clear, robin egg blue in color, and the air is thin and cold in her lungs. The holographic countdown shimmers over the golden Cornucopia, which sticks out like a sore thumb on the rocky plateau at the base of the mountain where it sits. As the countdown drops number by number, it speeds up, and suddenly the sun spikes through the sky, cleaving past the far off, nearly invisible crest of the towering behemoth of icy and rock. The millions of tiny ice crystals shine under the light and the Horn gleams blindingly. The heat and the cold mix together to create an uncomfortable combination of the elements. She can barely see the countdown, bathed in the sharp rays of the closer-than-normal sun. But she squints, ignoring the light, and watches as the countdown finishes off and the music tinkles through the air, signaling the beginning of the Games. She's off her platform the moment the first chime sounds, to the Cornucopia by the time the tune is done. She grabs the spear, the sunlight glittering across its silvery length. She turns to see the girl from Nine lunging for the spear, and Rhoda twirls and jabs it roughly into the girl's head. She crumples at Rhoda's feet, and Rhoda doesn't even look down. 1 down, 22 to go.
As she hauls herself over the edge, she sees the headstrong Six girl, Toyota or Corvette or something like that, stepping back a little. She pulls herself fully onto the ledge and watches as the girl looks around wildly, the sun shining around her head like a halo, but Rhoda ignores it. Her first kill past the Bloodbath. She takes a step forward, and then the Six girl bolts, although there's nowhere to bolt. Rhoda steps to the side fluidly, and watches as the girl launches herself off of the ledge, hundreds of feet up in the air, and pinwheels as she falls, screaming until Rhoda can't hear her anymore, she's so far away. Then there's a loud symphony of cracks and snaps, and the Six girl is dead. She guesses dead is dead. 8 down, 15 to go.
Jason and Tuesday had split for Onyx and herself, and now they were dead. She didn't know how they had died, but it didn't make her feel any more confident. Onyx has been acting very strangely, staring off into space and never holding his weapon in his hands. When she spots the two Outliers creeping along a little bit of a way down the mountain and prepares to throw the spear, she isn't surprised, really, when he shoulders her out of the way. She knew his resolve had broken and he'd lost it. She swings up her collapsable spear and watches as it scopes out, and she jabs it upwards, thrusting it into his stomach. He gurgles and falls off of the spear, but he grins as the sun glitters across the blood dripping out of his wound. She doesn't get it. His cannon fires, and then she turns and pulls the spear out of Onyx's corpse before tossing it down the mountain, watching as it slices perfectly into one of the screaming figures, their forms barely able to be made out as the sun shimmers over them. But Rhoda can see through anything when she throws her spears. The other makes it away, but Rhoda doesn't care at all. 15 down, 8 to go.
The two tributes from Four. The overeager little patriot that Rhoda has a shred of respect for, and the strange, cuckoo boy from Four who volunteered for this but decided that killing was "oh so terrible!" She hates those types of Careers, those that pretend to be patriots and killers and then just quit and give up and leave the pack because they gain "morals", more than she hates the annoying outer District volunteers who think they're all that like her first kill, Tillia from Nine. But it isn't time to kill Shane yet. They're destined to have that final epic battle that will be hard fought but won by Rhoda. Hamilton. Rainey, however, is expendable. No one wants to see Panem's Sweetheart spear a little girl who volunteered to young in the finale with ease. Rhoda throws the spear and doesn't know that the sun, a fuzzy outline around her, makes her look like some demented, evil goddess as she lopes away across the mountainside. 20 down, 3 to go.
The sword gleams in the sun, ice coating its sharp blade. Rhoda ignores how pretty it looks, slamming the blade against her boots and letting the ice chunks fall off so her sword will be more functional and will cut through the flesh of the others so much easier. She then spots the two boys perched on the nearby ledge, inspecting the area opposite her. Stupid boys, cornering themselves. She creeps up behind them, and they whirl in fear, making small talk as they try to figure out a way to survive. Suddenly Rhoda lurches forward, the Eleven boy steps backward into his ally, the Six boy, and the Six boy falls off of the ledge. The Eleven boy tries to catch him, but he can't, and before he even stands up her sword is through his back and poking out of his stomach. Blood is splattered across the pristine snow, and when Rhoda draws her sword out of Kuma's back, more of it sprays into the air. Rhoda doesn't care. She doesn't care about anything any more, except getting that crown. All she has to do is kill accursed Shane Donegal, the man she's come to despise just because of his demeanor and his choices and his betrayal. 22 down, 1 to go.
She sees everything as the rock arcs down towards her head. She sees the blood and the tears, hears the screams and the crunching ice. She sees the sun, so bright and so blazing and so blinding that it's all she sees. She squeaks out, "Do Panem proud," before she slips away, encompassed by the sun.
She's down, 0 to go for Shane Donegal, that damn bastard.
A/N: That was much longer than I anticipated XD I hope it was good!
Until Next Time,
Tracee