"Winter, spring, summer or fall
All you've gotta do is call
And I'll be there, I'll be there
You've got a friend"

- Carole King

Tobias Harte, Head Gamemaker

"Eight down," I sighed at Ruth whilst we walked down the corridor. The sound of her heels meeting the polished marble floor pierced all silence. A few people were scurrying around hurriedly, receptionists, treasurers, escorts, all greeting us as we passed. This Bloodbath was considered one of the most successful Bloodbaths of all time. The numbers were bigger than the average Bloodbath count, which was six, and something about the drama, emotion and shock had ensured that the Capitol were all thrilled. Maybe, I hoped, this excitement would further crush the dwindling rebellion in the Capitol.
"Sixteen left," Ruth paused. "You look sad.""I'm fine it's just..." Maybe the fact eight kids had died had gotten to me. "It's always sad when a potentially dramatic tribute is killed off."

"Ah," she grinned slightly. "You know as well as I do that the sixteen tributes left will definitely spark some drama or another. It'll be fine." She sounded a little bit excited. "I have to say, I didn't think the arena would get me so excited but... there's something promising about this Games. I'm guessing that because the Bloodbath was above average numbers we can let the tributes not die for a while?"

"We can't stop them from dying if they meet up with each other, but we can tone it down. We have a few mutts in the arena, no more thrown in over day one and day two - in fact, we'll increase the heat a little. Then in day three, if no one has died by then, we'll increase the heat a lot until everything's boiling. Even if it was a big Bloodbath we need to make sure the drama is somewhat continuous."

"Yeah," Ruth paused as a timid, blonde haired girl stepped out of one of the recreation rooms.

"Hey," she said, tired. Like most of the other Gamemakers she had bags under her eyes. Once the Games started the Gamemakers had to be alert at all times, twenty four hours a day. The Games had only started two hours ago though, so it looked strange to me that Abigayl, who was in charge of the environment and climate, had already appeared to look as if she had taken caffeine tablets. She took out two steaming cups of coffee. "Want some?"

"Thanks," I said, taking a mug and feeling the warmth of it blanket my palms. "How are things in the arena, temperature wise?"

"Average," she said, almost sighing her words out as if she had repeated them numerous times to numerous people: "It's going to be warm in the day and the temperature will drop significantly in the night, but it won't be too cold, the usual climate at the beginning of the Games. I don't see why it matters very much, though, considering the important parts of the arena are indoors."
"We know the weather will be very important this Games," I hinted, though Abigayl didn't look enthusiastic back, she just nodded and turned to Ruth.

"You want coffee?" Her lip quivered as she held it out. Ruth only glared back.
"I told you stay away from me," she retorted bluntly, turning and storming away as I followed.
"Care to tell me why you hate Abigayl?" I asked, confused. "You seriously still don't think she's involved in Aurora's death, do you? That was two years ago, and we know it was an accident."
"It's none of your business," Ruth snapped.

I didn't bother replying as we reached the door of the morgue. Unlike the other wooden doors of offices, control rooms, laboratories, mentor offices, reception desks and the many other rooms that littered the Gamemakers headquarters, the morgue's door was metallic; always shut, always sealed tight, and could only be opened from the inside. Naturally it was quite ominous and reeked of death. I rapped on the door three times, waiting eagerly. After every Bloodbath Ruth and I thought it necessarily to check on the mounds of tributes.

There was a squeaking sound as the door was shifted open. Jets of steam, cleansing chemicals, fell from the top of the doorway so that all those entering and exiting were cleansed of any potentially harmful bacteria. Through this curtain of mist I could see a short man - probably around five feet five inches at tallest, with balding hair that only released grey tufts around the crown, wizened eyes that were shrouded by thick spectacles.

"Ah, Tobias," he chuckled. "Come for your lovely little visit?"

"Just a check up on the tributes, Dr. Parker," Ruth said, business-like, as we stepped through the doorway. The chemicals coated me, leaving chills seeping through me, but I emerged from it dry and seemingly untouched.

"Of course, of course," he scurried to a small desk.
observed the room: the room seemed to hold twenty-four spaces, representing each District and gender, which held metallic slabs where their corpses would lay once they died. Of course, one of those slabs wouldn't be occupied at all. All of the slabs weren't ejected, kept in their internal spaces, though one of them was ejected and surrounded by people working what seemed like saws. Their faces were covered, they wore protective suits and looked at the body with concentration as their tool screeched. I couldn't see the corpse, only a tag on the feet which told me it was Aurochs.

"We've obtained all eight victims' DNA," Dr. Parker said, showing us eight test tubes. "We're sending them to the laboratory - or as we call it here the little lab of horrors - no doubt they'll find something nasty to do with the DNA," he noticed my gaze. "Oh, looking at Aurochs? Poor old chap," he acknowledged with a sigh. "But tributes getting chopped in half is relatively common, we'll have him sewn together in the next hour."

"That's good," I said. "And the others?"

Dr. Parker led us down the walls, tapping a button where each of the corpses were. Covered in sheets, all of the occupied slabs shot out. I glanced at each of them briefly.

"Didn't expert Liz to die," Dr. Parker said. "Nor Ross, but we've fixed his poor neck now." It amazed me how he managed to remember all their names. The hard working mortician must have had the dignity to learn all about the corpses that came his way, and even though the arena didn't treat the tributes with respect, he certainly did. "We thought Giovanni was going to be messy, but the bullet went clean through which eases the process a little bit." He threw Giovanni's sheet away. His dark face looked at us, eyes tightly closed as if we were sleeping. "Brandy is fixed up," he said, pointing at her. "Freya... well, we'll work on her once we're finished with Aurochs. She suffered a good bit, poor girl."

"She was a whore, no-one will miss her," Ruth said, a little bluntly as we passed Freya's covered corpse.

"You act as if being a whore is a bad thing!" Dr. Parker said. "Still a human, dear. And if I was younger she'd be my kind of woman." Ruth and I exchanged disgusted glances behind each other's backs while Dr. Parker passed another body. "Now, as for the poor dear Conifer, we won't be able to make her presentable enough to send back to her old folks for another week. We had to turn to a biological mechanics lab in District Five for her," he sighed. "They make a lot of business from these Games. She needs a new skull reconstructed, using her DNA as a template of course, but soon she'll be presentable. A very nasty way to die... but painless, which is always preferable..."

"That's seven," I paused at the last covered body.

"Oh dear, yes," Dr. Parker drew the sheets away and we glanced at the corpse. "I dare say the biggest shame of all."

Darius Cortez, District 8, 16

We ran up so many flights of stairs my feet throbbed. It felt surreal that my sore feet were my only concern after... everything. I came out of the Bloodbath relatively unharmed, minus the small, accidentally self-inflicted cuts that crept across my hands and forehead and only recently stopped bleeding. Mirane had made us run up so many flights of stairs, some grand and crafted from fine wood, some made of stone, shabby and unstable. I had to support Hadley, who barely moved. He mumbled to himself, sobbing and letting me lead him up the stairs.

"Hurry!" Mirane said, gun in hand. I tried to hide my annoyance, I was supporting my shell shocked ally, I couldn't go too fast. My arms also ached from supporting Hadley. But he was my ally, he had seen something that... something that was so dark it made me sick to think about it. I had to support him.

Mirane reached the end of the stairway, opening a door and stepping into the room. She waited by the door. Twenty seconds later I managed to stagger through with Hadley, observing the room. It had a green carpet, many bookshelves and what looked like a meeting table with bland, ash crafted chairs surrounding it. There was one window, uncovered, letting natural light dominate the room. There was another door on the wall to the left of us. It seemed as if every wall was covered by large maps of the globe, of countries and continents I hadn't heard of...

Mirane slammed the door behind us, twisting what seemed to be a lock while I led Hadley to one of the chairs.

"Are you okay?" I said to him, my legs throbbing as I also sat down. Mirane went over to the other door, peering out of it briefly while Hadley stared vacantly out of the window. "I-Is everything okay?" I knew the answer.

"Conifer..."

"I know," I paused. "I'm so sorry..."

"Brandy..."

I paused. Brandy's death didn't devastate me. I didn't know her that well, but I knew that she was a kind person, she was a strong person... I could've gotten close to her. But that wasn't to be. Still, I knew she had a family... a mother... a father... a sister... friends. They'd never see her again, and knowing that they'd be devastated got to me. If Hadley was reacting like this, what were they thinking?

"I could've done something..." Hadley said, emptily. "Something nice for her."
"Don't blame yourself," I awkwardly squeezed his hand.

"Baked a cake... Said thank you..." Hadley said, probably to himself. I realised he wasn't looking at me. He wasn't acknowledging me. He couldn't take reality, so he was probably in his own world while his actual self was sitting there and gazing out of the window. I didn't know how to react. I didn't know how to feel. A knot slowly tied itself in my stomach as Hadley continued staring vacantly. Before I considered saying anything there was an almighty crash. I turned to see that Mirane had toppled one of the bookshelves over. Books flooded onto the floor as the bookshelf blocked one of the doorways.

I almost stood up and asked her why she would do that. And then it hit me that this wasn't a house where we had to respect people's furniture. This was an arena. The bookshelf was meaningless, it didn't mean anyone to anybody. At best (and I doubted this) it held a secret of the arena, it was a key to survival. But it was just background decoration that was supposed to make the arena appear that bit more real.

"We need to block the doorways," Mirane said, and then she paused.

"What?" I said, noticing something was up. Mirane was suddenly tense.

"I have to get out of here," she said capriciously, storming towards the unblocked door. Feeling a little dejected, I stormed towards her while she fiddled with the lock. It had seemingly jammed. She continued to try and fix it.

"What do you mean you're getting out of here?" I said, affronted.

"What it sounds like," Mirane said bluntly.

"After everything? After I saved your life?"

"Don't play guilt games with me, Darius," Mirane rolled her eyes and shot me glare. I turned away to avoid her gaze, noticing Hadley was still staring out the window. It was as if he didn't acknowledge that an argument was threatening to erupt in the room. "I know you saved my life, and I appreciate that. But it doesn't tie me to you. No way. I paid the debt when I stopped that god awful Four girl from taking a chunk of your face off. You saw what she did to Conifer, right?" The memory stung. "It could've happened to you. Thinking practically, it would've been convenient if I let you die, one last competitor out of the way..." She finally unlocked the door, forcing it open as I glanced at her helplessly. She then paused. "But I decided it was time to screw what was practical because I... I liked you."

"Yeah," I said, feeling hollow.

"Lock the door behind you," Mirane made sure she had her gun tight in hand. "It'll keep people out. You have two exits, so you know that if someone chases or tries to get in from one end, you have the other." She smiled. "Good luck-"

"Mirane..."

"What?"

"Please..." I paused, looking at her pleadingly as she stepped past the threshold. She looked at me imploringly, willing me to continue talking. "I hate to say it, but I'm helpless without you. Brandy is dead... we don't have food, we only came out with your gun and Hadley..." My lip trembled. "I don't even know what's happening to him. He's shut down, he's just not taking this very well. I'm helpless." I regretted continuing: "I need you."

A silence dawned. I couldn't hear identify source, but the ticking of a clock was heard in the background. Hadley didn't move. It seemed as if the whole world froze as Mirane looked at me. I didn't know what she was feeling. Her glance expressed something unidentifiable and complicated... empathy... pity... sadness... hurt... guilt... I didn't know what it was, but it showed me a sign of Mirane that it seemed only I could see while the rest of the world saw a girl with a heart of stone. Her features softened, but eventually she stepped back into the room and closed the door.

"Don't make me regret this," she sighed, locking the door again.

Jericho Aylin, District 2, 18

Growing up, I was always told to not cry like a girl. To not be such a little girl and moan, cry, complain or show weakness. I used to think weakness and crying was a girl's thing, but these derogatory marks were misconceptions. I knew that when I drew the needle and thread through Lorelei's skin, sewing it together piece by piece. She was tough; it wasn't an agonising process, but once when I had hunted for my dad's business I had tripped and had a gash through my knee. The process hurt like a bitch. But Lorelei wasn't flinching, at worst she'd wince.

"What are we even doing?" Honora sighed. She was strewn across a chaise-longue, looking bored. We had delved a little in the Palace, only to find that it was empty. Well, it was really full with gold... decor... paintings... furniture... but Honora wasn't finding what she was looking for.

"Putting the useless survival skills to the test," I said. Honora had demeaned me for spending time at stations such as first aid or fire making, so I hoped she got the insult. And as soon as it slipped out my mouth I hoped she didn't get it - she was so easily set off. However, Honora didn't seem to be phased. She sat up, groaning with what sounded like boredom. As I finished stitching Lorelei's arm I smiled. "Was that okay?"

"The disinfectant hurt like hell," she said, smiling and patting my knee a little. "Thanks buddy."

"No problem," I said. "The stitches will be ready to remove in about a week. Chances are there won't even be a scar, it wasn't that bad."

"I hope there is a scar," Lorelei said, sadly.

She was feeling torn up because she had killed that girl, the District Three girl. I actually spoke to the District Three girl at the Gamemakers' party yesterday... she seemed nice. It was weird to think that she was dead now. I understood why she was guilty; after all, I had also killed Aurochs. I didn't want to... but... I wasn't a bad person for doing it. Definitely not. He was dying anyway, he had his stomach blasted out by Honora. I was putting him out of his misery, doing what was honourable and not letting him shrink into death like Honora would've done.

"Okay, are we moving now?" Honora stood up. Pullox was leaning against the doorway, but he looked at us and smirked a little.

"There have been eight tributes killed," he told Honora calmly, as if he were a teacher and she a student. Something about Pullox kept Honora on a leash. Which felt nice, because she had Jericho and I on leashes. This power structure kind of ensured we were all controlled and no-one killed another. Not that Honora let Pullox dominate her, but she was always ready to listen to him and actually take his suggestions on board. "We're hardly going to disappoint the audience if we don't kill, we did plenty of that. Why don't we relax and stay here until day two?"

"And do what?" Honora sulked.

Pullox opened his backpack, throwing what looked like cartons of juices and large bars of chocolate at each of us. Both lay on my lap before he threw them at Lorelei, who caught them.

"Why don't we do what Careers don't do very often..." His shark like grin unsettled me. "Connect."

"Eurgh," Honora tore the wrapped away, biting into the chocolate before surrendering. "Go on, try me."

"Okay... person you're closest to at home? Anyone going to answer that?"

I didn't know how I felt about people answering that. I didn't want to connect with them. Even if I knew who would miss them I could still drive a sword in their gut, but if I knew them too well I would feel emotionally stabbed in the process. Everyone went silent for a little bit, not knowing quite how to respond. I contemplated for a second before I responded:

"My father," I said. It felt as if I was being interviewed again when Pullox glanced at me. "I just... I don't know, he's always been there for me. He's been my cook, my cleaner, my mentor, my teacher, my encourager... my friend. And I guess most importantly of all he's been family. He's raised me to be the person I am today. And I couldn't thank him enough for being there for me, through my wins, my losses, my everything..."

"Cool," he smiled. "And you, Honora?"

Honora glanced at Pullox, exasperated. "Really?"

"Honora probably doesn't care about anyone, the honest answer she has is herself," Lorelei teased.

"Talk about projecting yourself onto other people," Honora hissed. "Just because I don't care about you guys doesn't mean I don't care about anyone period!" She paused, wanting us to respond, though we only nibbled on our chocolate. "If you're emso /emcurious the person I care about most is my dad too. I won't elaborate into it too much, but I guess I'll just repeat the generic bullshit Jericho has said. He's cool. He's given the world to me... almost literally. He's supported all my decisions, while other people think I'm a psycho bitch he tried to understand and support me... even when life gets... tough..."

"Tough?" I grinned. "Aren't you rich or something?"

"Maybe I am, dipshit," Honora swallowed some chocolate, glaring at me. "Just because my dad has money doesn't mean I'm automatically happy, and if you think that's the case you have the emotional insight of a dead dog."

"She's right," Lorelei said to me, sadly.
Pullox even voiced agreement. "She is."

I blushed a little. I forget that when I would submit myself into the Games I'd be forced to mingle with a bunch of rich kids: Pullox's family were rich, so were Lorelei's and Honora's. They knew what it was like to have anything you wanted with the click of a finger. Whilst I didn't slave away in quarries like half my District, I didn't know that liberty. I mean, I promised my father that when I won the Games he would never have to work again. I didn't know the beauties of wealth, nor did I know the drawbacks...

"Who's next then?" Pullox's eyes lit up as he met Lorelei. "Ah, Lorelei."

"I pass."

"Oh come on, you don't want to bore us all!"

Lorelei sighed, poking a straw into a juice carton before she glanced at us all. "I love my family, but if you asked me three weeks ago... before all this happened... I'd say my boyfriend. Jessie," she looked hurt at the name. I remember her briefly mentioning breaking up with her boyfriend. "Or ex boyfriend anyway. I loved him... I love him. He understood me more than my family could, he was special. But he broke up with me the day I volunteered."

"Why?"

"Things got complicated," Lorelei said vaguely, starting to sip on her straw.

"What about you, Pullox?" I said.

"Me?" Pullox's eyes widened in alarm. I don't think he expected the tables to turn. He frowned. "My mother, of course."

Nobody really believed him, I think. Pullox seemed like a good liar, but in the heat of the moment he had bumbled slightly. Honora expressed her disbelief by chortling out loud before she relaxed into her chaise-longue, probably to nap, her large shotgun resting temptingly by her side. When her snores rose into the air the rest of us finished eating our snacks silently, none of us talking. This alliance was a boiling pot of emotions and... people. I was always worried that my inner humanity would prevent me from winning, but when I glanced at the other Careers I knew that also had feelings to express and stories to tell.

If those feelings wouldn't be their downfall, they'd be my own downfall.

Carlie Compton, District 10, 17

Sebastian and I walked slowly and in silence once the cannons had announced the ending of the Bloodbath. Neither of us said a word. He walked, his large gun in hand. With that gun I felt safe - if any of the tributes came our way Sebastian would only have to aim and shoot and that was it. He may be an amateur, but we were now one of the safest tributes in the Games... And despite that inside I felt awful. I couldn't help but feel guilty over Aurochs. I just slammed those doors in his face. I knew I was in the wrong doing that, I knew I was giving him a death sentence. And yet I also knew it was something I had to do. These were the Games, killing, backstabbing... it was what happened.

But I still felt the tears spill from my eyes a little. I scurried along, trying to follow Seb, who was walking incredibly fast. Still trying to keep my ladylike demeanor after everything I had seen, I lifted the folds of my skirt so I could catch up with him. It was easy to say that I would be the sly killer of the Games and win, but actually initiating the plan was much worse in my head... it hurt more... it was so much more brutal and unfair... I kept telling myself I was justified in doing what I had to do. I had a family to go home to. I had Jared to return home to.

But even when I justified everything in my head, it felt wrong. How could murder, or the aiding of murder, ever be justified? How could I ever try to shrug it off and just think that was that? I knew I did what had to be done... and despite everything I didn't regret it... but it felt so wrong...

I shivered slightly when Auroch's words to me last night flashed into my mind. If anything happens tomorrow... it was nice knowing you.

I think Seb saw everything that happened, or at least acknowledged it. I couldn't tell what he was thinking as he led us through multiple, beautifully furnished hallways and landings. He was silent, which was unlike him. He was usually cordial and conversational. But he was silent, walking along without saying anything. Maybe what he had seen had gotten to him, I mean, we were in a Bloodbath where eight kids had died. Maybe he didn't want to talk to me because he hated to me...

"In here," he said, briskly, as he opened two grand doors. They were the biggest doors I had ever seen.

If I wasn't in such a down mood I'd squeal at the room we entered. It was the most beautiful I had seen thus far and looked like some kind of ballroom. A chandelier swung high above us, glittering in the light it produced. It wasn't as large as the one I had ran onto it - it definitely couldn't support people - but it was still really big. Above it, on the ceiling high above, there were paintings of old stories, of minotaurs and centaurs. The room itself was sparsely furnished; a polished marble floor that supported nothing, a rug that rolled down a grand staircase and - in the corner of the room, by one of many columns that circled the perimeter - a sleek, black, grand piano.

I imagined the Counts, Countesses, Dukes and Duchesses, Kings... Queens... Warriors... Poets... all of the highest in society, dressed as regally as me and Seb were, though with their wigs and accessories. I imagined them weaving around, chatting cordially, snatching snacks from plates given by polite servants. I imagined the gold, the jewelry, the romanticism and the music being played from the impressive piano... crafted from the fingers of the world's greatest composers. The room, with its marble floors and columns, seemed like it could host a party even my daddy couldn't beat. And yet it was empty, the only sound was the creak of the door as it closed itself. Not a person in sight, the piano unplayed and left to gather dust.

p"I'll check upstairs," Seb told me, readying his shotgun as he moved up the stairs. I heard his footsteps above as he surveyed the perimeter. While he scoped the place out I explored, moving to the piano, pressing one dainty finger onto the ivory key and listening to the music spread around the giant room. I then moved over the one of the columns, surprised at the bumpiness of the many ridges despite how sleek it looked. I walked around the column, sliding my hand against it as I did, almost dancing around it.

"It's unreal..." I said to myself.

"No-one there," Seb said, behind me, watching me act so trivially. I turned, politely courtseying, which only confused the boy even more. "There's no exit there. There's only a round hallway and crevices with the Greek gods on them. Massive statues..."

"Like a more impressive version of..." I paused. "Of the room where the Bloodbath happened."

The mention of the Bloodbath seemed to shut Sebastian up. He moved into the centre of the room, where white, sleek marble turned into a large, red diamond slab of the stuff. After throwing the backpack of our supplies on the ground, he dropped down onto the floor and stared up at the chandelier. I slumped against the marble, feeling alienated. What did I do? I also regretted how I didn't take the two backpacks Aurochs had before I locked him in that room.

It didn't matter if Sebastian hated me anyway, I guess. Eventually I would kill him too.

We sat in silence for a good hour. It felt like that anyway. Eventually Seb leant up, glancing at me.

He asked sincerely: "Do you think Aurochs is dead?"

"Definitely," I croaked.

There was another long silence. It wasn't as long as the other silence, but still torturous. Once again, Sebastian broke it and said: "Why did you lock the door on him?"

I paused. "Huh?"

"Why did you lock the door on him?"

"I..." Frowning, I didn't know whether I wanted to lie to Sebastian or not. If I told him the truth, that I knew I could save Aurochs or leave him to die, I'd lost his trust automatically. If anything, his trust for me was already on tenterhooks. "I had to. The Careers were coming towards us, I didn't have time to let him in," I didn't know the truth to that statement... but that justified it more in my mind. Even if my intentions were malicious, I was pragmatic in locking the door. "We were the last people left, Seb. The Careers wouldn't stop at the doorway. They'd follow us if we just left the door open. And they had two guns, I just did what I had to do." Suddenly I burst into tears. They were genuine, but now to add to the guilt I had half-lied to Seb.

"Oh," Sebastian stood up and moved over to me, crouching down and smiling weakly. "Don't cry."

"I just feel so awful..."

"I understand... I ran away from him too..." Sebastian paused, hesitating and deciding not to cup my face. "This is the Hunger Games and we do shitty things, I know we have to do them and it's awful we had to do something so shitty so early on and to Aurochs of all people."

I sniffled. "Yeah. I just hope his family can forgive me."

"He told me about his family..." Seb paused. "His sister, his mother... father..."

"And what do they think of me?" I sobbed. "For doing that to him?" I knew the answer. The audience probably hated me. Or maybe they loved me for giving them the blood they wanted. Unable to cope with it, I buried my head into the folds of my dress and sobbed.

Delilah Fauve, District 11, 16

So that went well.

Or, to be more precise, better than I expected. When you saw somebody get their neck snapped, mere meters away, that wasn't okay. In fact, it made me pretty nauseous. But I managed to grab a small knife, a backpack full of food and a warm coat, which had replaced my thin fabric waistcoat. My legs were throbbing from walking around for what seemed like three hours on end - even after three hours it felt like I had explored the tiniest fraction of this gigantic palace. Bar it being a palace, it being so big and full of furniture that was worth a million of my own houses, I didn't know what was special about this place. I expected ballrooms, throne rooms and saunas. All it seemed to be was hallway after hallway, near-identical furniture that made me unsure if I was walking in circles or not.

If I couldn't even mentally map where I was, how could I be sure that this was the best strategy? How would I know where to hide? How could I ensure I wouldn't mindlessly walk into a Career or an equally brutal tribute? As I walked down a corridor which seemed stacked with china; vases of china, china plates of all colours, sizes and patterns adorning the walls, I glanced out of the window. It seemed to have a ledge, which automatically gave me an idea. I looked out of it, seeing one side of the Palace's grounds - and now I saw what made this palace special - stretching out of it was verdant grass, botanic gardens lined with trees, numerous ponds... it seemed so big on its own. In the horizon the sun was shining, filtering light into the building. It all seemed so beautiful.

I grabbed the window, pushing it upwards and smiling with pleasant surprise when it actually budged. As it flung open a light breeze caressed my face, relieving after spending a seeming forever in a stuffy building. I was from District Eleven... a climber. I think I knew how I could be a contender in this year's Games, how to create a strategy that would separate me from the other tributes, both physically and figuratively speaking. I pushed my slim, small body out of the mansion, glancing down at the grey pavement beneath. There was a window ledge not far above my head. I used my arms, which, due to them not being too long, made it difficult to grab onto the ledge. I managed to hoist myself up, holding my breath and knowing that if I fell I'd paint the floor with my brain.

Nothing you don't do too often in the orchard...

I was officially out of the Palace, feeling the air as I hung off the window. Swinging slightly to create momentum, I jumped and landed onto the windowledge beside me, finding it difficult to balance with the heeled shoes the Gamemakers had given me. Still, without grabbing onto the windowledge above I managed. After getting the hang of things, I easily hopped from window ledge to window ledge, reaching what seemed like the end of the palace after five minutes. Now I was on the corner, attached to the side of the Palace's corner was a gargoyle of an infernal pig.

I jumped, my feet landing gracefully on it's head. It didn't crack and was sturdy. Gargoyles seemed to litter this area of the Palace, so I used them to my advantage. I jumped slightly, gripping onto one their wings and hoisting myself further up. After that I seemed to be a stones throw away from the roof, so I grabbed onto what seemed to be a drainpipe and gasped when it creaked.

It snapped, folding itself away and taking me away from the rooftop. I knew the Gamemakers wouldn't make it this easy. I was tangling for dear life on weak support, the pipe threatening to snap and letting out warning groans. My heart immediately rushed... After everything it wouldn't be my own stupidity that killed me, would it? Knowing I could jump back onto a gargoyle before the pipe snapped, I decided to take a risk. I sucked in some air, swinging once, twice, three times until I managed to achieve full motion. Once I felt the air back me back and forth fiercely, I pushed myself away from the pipe, spinning upwards in the air and landing perfectly on my feet.

I was shaking. I hadn't ever done anything like that before.

"That was... cool," I said to myself.

The Palace seemed to be a lot more complex then I imagined - there wasn't one, giant roof. I seemed to be on many rooftops. The tiles roof was beneath me, and many other roofs forward to me seemed to be of many different shapes: triangular prisms, straight and sleek... all of them were tiled, some were high, some were low. Some were build on one another and some buildings seemed to be a few meters apart, or whole squares apart when separated by courtyards, orchards and vineyards from within the mansion.

I spread my arms out to balance my gravity, running forwards and observing the rooftop decorations, which still seemed grand, full of towering gargoyles and large, stained glass windows. I jumped from a small gap, rolling over to break the slight fall and standing up again. Knife in hand, running alongside the roof and feeling the wind stroke my cheeks and ruffle my hair, I felt somewhat free and safe. I looked into the horizon, into another section of the grounds - the same, straight, green lawns that went on, I saw two very interesting things:

A maze and miles and rows of greenhouses. Wondered what the Gamemakers had in store there.

My stomach growled for the first time. I hadn't been hungry due to the food I ate yesterday (which was a lot) and the adrenaline, but I knew hunger and thirst would eventually creep in - it was the Hunger Games after all. Reluctant to make my already small bundle of food disappear, I decided that it was best to scour the roof and see if there was an orchard or courtyard that I could crawl down into. That would undoubtedly have some food or something.

Well, the Bloodbath was less reviewed than I thought it would be xD I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Anyway, those who reviewed 9 chapters pre-Bloodbath can sponsor a major gift now! And those who reviewed 5 can sponsor a minor one. I know who you all are. :3

Promised eulogies:

Liz: Who didn't love you? Honestly, I think I'm going to regret making you the first death when you had so much potential as a character. You were kind, but capable, smart and strong. People may think I killed you off first because I didn't connect with you but I adored your geekiness and kindness unconditionally.

Ross: Out of every character, you caught everyone's eye the least. You'd have hated that. I think we saw a little character development in you; you were a laid back Career kind, but ultimately selfish. The Games affected you positively and I grew to really, really like you. Unfortunately Honora didn't and you got on her bad side – you put up a good fight but this is Honora we're talking about here :(

Brandy: You were easily such an interesting character. It's rare I manage to pity and admire a character all at once; you were constantly overshadowed which led to your morphling addiction. But you were mature for your age, and you didn't let anyone tread on you – a quality I've always admired. It's sad to see you go so brutally :-(

Conifer: Oh Connie... This makes me so sad. I didn't ever see you as a standout, but amongst the chaos you were there and you were settled. How a fourteen year old girl kept resolve the way you did I barely know, I admired you so much and you were one of the characters who didn't deserve to die so awfully. The Games are unfair.

Giovanni: How I managed to kill off a character so complex, so intriguing, in such a blunt and eye blinkin manner is something I don't know. I will always harbour you close and if circumstances were any different you'd be in my final 8. I loved your relationships, your past, your attitude. I just wish you could've gone home and gave your father what he deserves.

Aurochs: I don't regret anything about this story. Sacrifices had to be made for the story, this Bloodbath being a prime example, but I wish I could've given you a pinch more limelight. You were a brilliant character, you were likeable and yet suffered with the human ills all of us do – jealousy, insecurity, uncertainty. You weren't deserving of your fate, so it's with a heavy heart I wish you farewell.

Freya: Freya... Freya... Freya... Killing you was a shock to me. I know I have an arena filled with amazing characters when, after weeks of angst, I pick you to be one of the unlucky ones. You were easily the most morally grey tribute; I liked you and understood why you were hatable. I sympathised with you even though I knew life could often be your own fault – and yet I knew that things in life must have happened in there to give you those faults. What hurt the most is that I know underneath all of it you were, as much as you'd deny it, a person, and a person that could've been good.

~Toxic

Capitol Commentator Question; Who would you save out of all the Bloodbath victims if you could?

Interview Question: Is the Bloodbath usually the highlight of the Games for you?