Day Six, Afternoon

Alexandria Tarsus, District 1, 15

"Élever," I said, my voice firm and clear. As soon as I flicked my hand upwards my army of blades followed its direction. When the spell wore off and the knives began to fall, I jerked my hand in the left direction: "Gauche!" Almost immediately the knives followed the direction of my hand, one by one piercing a bookshelf as if it were a dartboard. My aim had definitely gotten better, partly because of practice and partly because of the useful knowledge Lorelei had given me all those days ago. Because of it, I was becoming proficient with this weird ability the Gamemakers had given me. I was like some kind of mage.

It should have been the stuff of fantasy. Magic didn't really exist, right? And yet all I had to do was wave my hand and mutter an incantation and things happened. After lowering my aching arm, which was tired from hours of practice, I really wondered what was happening. Now that I had thought of Lorelei I kind of missed her, too. I hoped she was okay - she was still alive, and I knew she was skilled. If she could hold her own against her fellow Careers, I didn't have any reason to worry about her. She was just kind, that was all. And she was pregnant too. It must have hurt a lot to hide a secret like that.

I glanced over at Nate, who was sleeping. He'd been sleeping a lot lately. I knew his injury was getting to him, and it was only going to get even worse. Maybe it was infected now. We really needed antibiotics and proper bandages, maybe a splint. He too was hiding a secret. And it was tucked away in one of our backpacks... Maybe if I could get him while he was at his least guarded...

Quickly and gracefully, I almost danced in the direction of the backpack, making sure to no noise was created. He was nestled right into it, sleeping soundly. He was considerably more pale now, which was worrying. I zipped open the backpack carefully, reaching in and searching around through the empty bottles and wrappers. It was incredibly difficult to not make a noise, and I was beginning to wonder if there was any envelope there. I felt wrong for doing this, but he had a secret and maybe if I found out but didn't tell... Well, what Nate didn't know couldn't hurt, right?

I cheered internally when I felt a piece of paper hidden inside one of the rucksack pockets, removing it quickly and opening the yellowed parchment. I expected an envelope but this was different. There were labels and beautiful illustrations...

It was a map.

"Nate," I hissed, kneeling down and shaking him. He darted awake immediately, his hand reaching for the nearest dagger. When he saw my expression and saw how calm I was, he settled a little. He actually didn't look so good. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Tired," he said weakly, looking at his tied up ankle and wincing. "What's up?"

"I found this," I threw the map down onto the wooden floor, straightening it further. It was a very, very big map, and the map seemed to be on both sides of the paper. One for the ground floor and the gardens, one for the upper floors. "Did you not know there was a map in your backpack?"

He looked at me suspiciously. "No."

"It was tucked away in one of the inner pockets, folded into a tiny square of paper," I explained, feeling myself grow a little humiliated. Desperate to change the conversation, I scanned my finger across the map until it settled on a very large room. "This is the library, it takes up two floors and is inaccessible bar hidden passages or a large entrance by the Hall of Mirrors..." That room didn't sound ominous. "A-And look, there's an infirmary," I dragged my finger along the parchment, down multiple corridors. "It's here. Maybe we can do something for your leg," before Nate could say anything, I interjected. "We both know it's getting worse. We need to get there."

"How long will it take?"

"It's close, but kind of far. With your leg it'll maybe take us a day to get there and back... I don't know."

"Fine," Nate said. He was being very blunt, and I knew why.

It was kind of obvious I'd searched through his bag thoroughly in an attempt to find his secret. I mean, why else would I have found the map? That map was so tucked away even Nate hadn't found it, but I was much more eager to. I turned around, trying to hide my mortified expression as Nate used a wooden pillar to get himself to his feet again. I had to keep a resolute face, and I guess I did promise Nate that I'd trust him enough to not look through his things. But he could be hiding a secret from me, a deadly secret. Did he expect me to just forget that?

"I'm ready to go," Nate said. "Bring the book with you, and remember all those spells. We won't be tucked away anymore, back in the open."

My hands were fumbling around each other with nervousness. I turned around, saying out of the blue: "I didn't find your envelope, I still don't know your secret."

Nate gave me a long, hard look. I didn't know if it was tentatively appreciative or cold and harsh, but whatever glance it was I found it hard to make eye contact with him.

"I know," he eventually said. "Just trust me."

Somehow, what he said made me pause even more. That must have meant he knew the envelope was no longer in the bag. What did he do with it? Hide it, destroy it? He took matters into his own hands, which I understood, but I couldn't pretend it didn't annoy me. He musn't have trusted me... Which, considering I went rummaging through his things, makes sense. Because I did violate that trust. He hobbled forwards, not even asking for my support as he moved towards the grand staircase that led towards the exit. Every day I grew stronger, and every day there was a distance between us. Maybe I'd need that one day.

I mean, he did have to die if I hoped to live.

Mirane Saffell, District 8, 17

Darius was still unconscious.

I had to keep reminding myself that I was a strong person, but every time I glanced at him I was weak. I curled up in the corner of the room, running my hands through my hair, hoping the cameras didn't pick up my sniffles and sobs. It looked normal initially; he was lying down almost like he was sleeping, but once you saw his face... Once you saw the holes where his eyes were... I think even a Career's stomach would turn slightly. It was awful. And the fact he was alive, his chest rising and falling in shallow beats, kind of made it even worse. He had to suffer.

The corner of the room where it had happened was still soaked in blood. Most of it was blood that had dripped onto the floor, but some blood had also squirted across the furniture and the walls in small splatters. After a good few hours it was dry, but it was a disturbing memory that would remain with me forever. I was furious with Darius for doing what the Gamemakers asked of him like a puppet. How could he have just taken his eyes out like that? But I couldn't pretend it was him I was mostly angry at - I was angry at myself. I could have stopped him. He duped me, something I would have never expected. I didn't get to him in time...

I stared at the blood across my dress. The crimson of the blood was dark against the purple velvet. My hands trembled and I kept cursing myself over and over again. This was all my fault. I could have saved Hadley and I could have stopped Darius from taking his eyes out. All of this in twenty-four hours... Assuming I survived the rest of the Games, what would the rest of the Games entail? What else would I have to go to?

I don't know. I didn't know anything except that I wasn't strong as I thought. I wish I wasn't locked in this room, because as much as I cared about Darius, a part of me still wanted to get up and storm away and never return. As I lay by Darius' side, sighing, I realised why I didn't want to enter an alliance. Alliances were hard. I cried when Hadley died, multiple times. I wanted to curl up and cry now. I was investing all my emotional energy in people who were just going to die, or people who would have to watch me die. That wasn't right or fair for anybody.

And yet... I was glad I entered this alliance. You know that old quote about it being better than loving and losing than never loving or losing at all? I think the person who said that was right. I wasn't naive enough to believe I loved Darius (for love was such a strong word), and I definitely didn't love Hadley, but there was still something there. I didn't have to deal with loneliness, I didn't have to suffer alone. I squeezed Darius' limp hand, smiling weakly to myself. When he was by my side, everything was better. I didn't like that; it made me feel weak without him, but at least I felt stronger than ever at this very moment, despite the situation.

I was distracted for another ten or so minutes and suddenly I realised there was something on the bedside cabinet. Ignoring the blood-filled bowl, bloody blade and everything else gory, I moved over to see what the Capitol had given us. Unusually, there was no sponsor note, but the package that we had been given we incredibly big. I had a gut feeling it was from the Gamemakers, and I felt hope flutter through me as I tore away the packaging.

I was left kind of disappointing. It wasn't a game changing gift, though it was supplies I desperately needed for Darius. Though I think his blade was sterilised, there was disinfectant. There was a week's worth of strong painkillers, a bag of blood with an empty syringe, a lot of bandages and eye patches and interestingly there was morphine. It only took me a second to realise what I had to do.

The pain the disinfectant would give Darius would probably be enough to wake him up, so the morphine was needed to keep him knocked out for those few hours. I looked for a vein in his arm and carefully applied the blood, which I assumed was his blood type. Maybe that'd make sure he didn't lose too much. Following that, I injected morphine into his bloodstream. I kind of expected a reaction, but his face was as relaxed and still as ever. He didn't twist, turn or snore like he did in his sleep, which made me worry slightly. I tried not to get sickened by the bloody, empty holes that were once his eyes and I realised this would be the hard part. I waited a good twenty minutes convincing myself I could do it safely and ensuring the morphine had kicked in.

Then I poured the disinfectant into Darius' eyes - or what was left on them. I expected him to yelp or shake, but there was a surprising lack of reaction, probably because of the morphine. Shaking, I tried to clean the blood away with a cloth. It felt weird and sickening going into his eyes, I felt the muscle around it and was terrified I would reach into his brain. I barely had any idea what I was doing, but when his eyes looked a lot more clean, I think I was doing it right. I felt nauseous, but rolled some of the bandages over Darius' eyes. Hopefully that would stop further complications, though it would have to be changed regularly. There were enough bandages to ensure that would happen, and enough painkillers to keep him comfy for the next week or so.

Then there were just the eye-patches, which were clumsily applied over the bandages. Maybe I did that in the wrong order. But they did make Darius look kind of funny. Despite it being a grim situation, I giggled a little. Darius would have to see this...

Except he couldn't see. It was going to be incredibly hard even moving around with him while he was blind, but I was strong enough to do it. I was willing to do it.

Now I had to wait for another few hours, for the morphine to wear off, before Darius woke up and provided me company. I doubt he'd even be any company. If only there was some worthy Gamemaker reward. I glanced at the bowl where Darius had given his eyes. The remnants of his eyes and the blood, which had fallen into the bowl, had vanished. That in itself was kind of eerie... The bowl was completely bloodless, even though it was surrounded by blood. I didn't know if that was a positive thing or not. The Head Gamemaker did have a twisted imagination. I'd almost admire it if I didn't have to experience it.

Magnus Carmine, District 5, 17

"How close are we now?" Leda complained as we stormed down a corridor I swear we stormed down earlier today. When you were in the Palace for so long, it ceased to feel unique. At first I was amazed by every inch of it - the furniture, the architecture and the vastness. Now it just seemed repetitive. The gold, the oak and the silk which I once treasured now felt like bland background noise ever since I had been surrounded by it for so many days. Unless there was something distinctive, I could seldom tell one corridor or room from another.

"Close... I think," I said, irritated. I wanted to kill. I felt like I had a lack of killing in my life. I was designed to kill - I should have acknowledged that my whole life. Deep inside I felt a pain and a loss. I felt like my chest was being crushed. I felt lonely... And I was supposed to be this way. Only blood would alleviate my suffering.

"You know, you don't have to do this," Hadley said. Leda glared at him.

"When were you moral?" She hissed. "We know where being moral got you - in a morgue!"

"Sometimes it's better to be dead than evil."

"You are evil," she said to him.

"Yeah. I got the bad deal. Dead and evil."

"Shut up!" I turned around, snapping at them. I wondered if the Capitol were disturbed because I shouted at nothing, or maybe they simply found it comical? I didn't know. A part of me didn't care. Hadley and Leda glanced at me, rightfully fearful as I gripped my hair and fell onto my knees, feeling so morally conflicted. My hair was nice and short when I entered the Games. Now it had grown and I gripped the tufts, tearing them out so that clumps of hair were nested tightly in my palms. I shouted at the voices in my head over and over again: "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! You're weak!"

The voices in my head suddenly stopped. They were replaced by real voices. Male voices. Voices that I wanted to destroy. Hadley and Leda perked up and heard them too. They were coming from another corridor which was separated from this one by two very large oak doors. Hadley and Leda scuttled away to hide, one side at each door. Smirking, I also stood in the shadows. Enough sitting around, feeling guilt and regrets and all those weak emotions. Now I felt so strong and in my own element. This was how things were supposed to be.

"Honora wants us to regroup," a well spoken but slightly menacing voice said. "You're going to be a good boy and keep quiet."

"Yeah, of course," a deeper, calmer voice said. "Where are they?"

"Down the corridor."

"Something creepy about this corridor."

"Don't be-"

I saw them appear at the doorway. One was your standard Career boy: pretty grey eyes, short dark hair, strong features and tall and bulging. The other was unconventional, and only reached the taller boys' shoulders, though he had the trademark features of District One. I barely had a glimpse of them before Hadley attacked the shorter Career and Leda attacked the taller one. I grinned, watching from the shadows. The poor District One boy struggled when attacked from the shadows, he had been slashed across the cheek and was struggling to clutch for his weapons as Hadley gleefully tried to pin him against the wall.

Poor Leda was already dead. She had always been pretty useless, but I guess her robotic self had no chance against the large, hulking Career who left her as a useless pile of scrap metal with a single punch. He turned to Pullox, trying to rescue him. I frowned, knowing that I couldn't have that. I charged out of the shadows, grabbing him by the shoulders as he tried to help Pullox. Pullox was still struggling to face off Hadley. I was around the same height and weight as Jericho, and he was especially weakened by my surprise attack. I flung him against the wall, cackling.

Jericho's expression faded when he head smashed against the wall, as if the lights in his eyes had turned off and left a cloudy mist in their wake. His weakness was fun. I desperately wanted to kill. I gripped my blade and pinned his head onto the wall, loving the delicateness of his throat. It wasn't as fun as a woman's silky throat, with the light stubble that was littered across it, but there was something particularly exciting about the human throat. After I had killed Hadley, I bit into his throat. I think I wanted to be a bit more innovative with Jericho.

I carved my name into his throat very lightly, not enough to kill though. Then I raised the blade to carve a Chelsea grin onto his face, though I paused when I heard a bang and a clatter of machinery. Pullox had defeated Hadley, who lay dead in a puddle of nonexistent blood. He stood over the body with a bloody face and then glanced up at me, smirking. He grinned at me devilishly for a few seconds, not even bothering to shoot me. I almost laughed out loud when I realised that he wasn't going to save his ally. He wanted his ally to die as much as I did, but was letting me do the dirty work! Wonderful!

I cried out loudly when I felt a strong punch force me. Jericho had regained his senses again. Shit. I was at a stalemate, possibly on the losing side now I was crawling across the floor so panicked and defenseless. My knife had been forced away somewhere, hidden in the shadows. At least Pullox still wasn't shooting, hoping I would finish his job. I scampered away from Jericho's foot, which would have slammed into my throat. Then I realised that the Career girls were oblivious and vulnerable down the corridor. I knew what had to be done.

I forced myself upwards, swiping at Pullox. Pullox didn't expect it, but had quick enough reflexes to try and dodge me. I still managed to swipe at his gun, taking it from his hands with ease and using my momentum to knock him to the floor. I turned the gun at Jericho, firing. I was so rushed in my movements the bullet definitely missed, but it left Jericho on the floor and weary. Laughing wildly, I rushed down the corridor and turned to the two beaten 'allies', giving them one last smirk before I closed the towering wooden doors. I then proceeded to slide the large latch across it, sealing them away from their unsuspecting allies.

They were only the starters. It was time to show the Capitol what I could really do.

I stormed down the corridor, searching around each room desperately for the two girls. It gave me a satisfaction knowing that I was hunting the predators of the game, that they were supposed to cower in fear of me, especially now I had a gun in my hands.

Eventually, I heard voices and peered into the room. They were standing there. The strong one had her back turned from me and was unsuspecting, she was facing her District partner and chatting away so unknowingly. Just as the Two girl's large eyes widened in shock, I gripped the Four girl by her waist and flung her into a glass shelf.

I didn't even have to look to know she was out cold.

Lorelei Draven, District 2, 17

This was all so sudden.

We were in a comfortable looking room with oriental decor, waiting for Pullox and Jericho. One second Honora was standing in front of me, calm, telling me about plans we had for the Final Twelve. The next someone charged in, gripped her, and shoved her into a glass shelf as if she weighed nothing. Honora had no time for struggle, she didn't even have to time to cry out in shock. As if she were thin air, she soared through the glass shelf which rained shards onto her bleeding, unconscious body.

I immediately reached for two of my knives as he stepped into the candlelight. His face was dripping in blood. I remembered the Five boy... His high score and his prison background always meant that I knew he was a threat, but when I saw his demonic expression I knew he had become one-hundred times more threatening. He once walked around rationally, now he was only a maddened shadow of his former self. The fact he had managed to knock Honora out stone cold also told me he was not going to be gentle. Honora was unsuspecting, but he must have been strong and quick to defeat her in a single push.

I didn't know what to do. I knew I had to fight him and he wasn't going to stop this rampage until I killed him, but I was so taken by surprise I just stood there, gawping at him and trying to think of something to say or do.

He glanced at Honora's still body with amusement. "I'll deal with her later," he said. "But you will be the one I have fun with first-"

I didn't expect him to withdraw a handgun, though I was still prepared. As soon as he pointed it at me I swung my blade in his direction, watching it slot neatly through his hand. He screamed in pain and dropped the weapon. Still knowing I had to be careful, for my baby if for anything, I charged towards him in the hope of grabbing the gun which rested on the floor. As I almost approached it, I swung my body back to avoid the blade which Magnus had torn out of his arm. He was now wielding it. I thought insanity was the scariest look Magnus could possess. I was wrong: his rage was much more terrifying.

He swung the blade at me again but I ducked under it, spinning across the floor and sweep kicking him to his feet. Even though he was ten times stronger than I could hope to be, I knew he had no training in the art of fighting: he just relied on his madness and brutality, which gave me the upper hand. As soon as he was floored I stood, kicking my blade out of his hand and pointing my knife right between his eyes.

"Just because I'm pretty doesn't mean I'm weak," I told him, pressing the heel of my shoes into his leg just to prove a point. I saw him wince, but terrifyingly enough he seemed to enjoy it.

"Do you really think that I'm afraid of death?" Magnus smirked, his teeth being stained with blood that leaked out of his nose. "Do you think I'm in it to win? I have no life outside these walls. Death will be liberating, and I am the great liberator. Just ask your allies."

"Jericho? He's alive."

"Not for long!" Magnus cackled.

"What did you do with him?" I snapped, getting to my knees and holding my knife across Magnus' throat. Jericho was the only ally worth keeping... If he was dying... That couldn't be a possibility.

"He had the same weakness you had," Magnus whispered, using his powerful strength to roll me over onto the stone cold floor. He'd duped me, played my weaknesses for his own benefit. I desperately clutched onto the blade of the knife as he desperately tried to get it into my throat. Magnus grunted in frustration and I struggled to hold in a scream as blood squirted out of both of our palms, pain lightly coursing through my hands. "The same weakness I once had. He cared about others. In this small, insignificant world he did not prioritise his own life whilst hoping to survive, which is a contradiction. How silly is that?"

I leant up and bit into Magnus nose, hearing him both roar in pain and scream in ecstasy. I felt my teeth clamp through the cartilage, pulling hard and feeling the tip of his nose tear away so that it was in my mouth. Blood sprayed all over my face as I spat the chunk of nose onto the floor, Magnus writhing in agony. His strength was still a lot to throw, but I managed to shove him off my body and shakily get to the ground. My baby was okay... My stomach didn't hurt... I shook and cried madly as I realised that it didn't matter if I was a Career or not, I could still be hunted. I could still be the victim.

"You're fucking sick," I said as a noseless Magnus lay on the floor, laughing hysterically. I picked up the discarded knife, rushing over to the gun and picking it up. It was time to put this guy out of his misery and find Jericho. "Fuck you!"

I pointed the gun at him as he stood up, firing it into his chest once. He stumbled back slightly and then charged towards me, immediately sending panic stressors through my system when I noticed his speed and strength. I shot into his chest and realised he must have had some kind of bulletproof armour. I shakily aimed again, firing and missing due to the fear that rendered me near incapacitated. I could only scream as he reached me, gripping my throat and lifting me up as if I were light as a feather. The air was immediately cut away from my lungs and my legs flailed around desperately.

Magnus called me unforgivable things, laughing and screaming with me as he slammed my head back into the wall. Pain roared through me and I felt my consciousness slip slightly, I felt as if it were time to give up. And then I was awakened with a jolt when I remembered my baby, when I feared intensely for my baby. I sobbed profusely and desperately aimed the gun at his face, pulling the trigger and watching the bullet slip through his cheek. He stumbled backwards, still seizing me tightly around my throat as I desperately aimed the gun at his face again.

I released a choked scream and pulled the trigger again, terrified that I had lost my baby. The bullet tore through his mouth and a cannon rang through the arena as he tumbled to the floor, his jaw wrenched open and blood pooling out of his mouth. The air immediately shot back through my lungs and my womb curled up in pain or relief. I fell to my knees, screaming out sobs and aiming the gun his face.

"Die! Die! Die!" I pulled the trigger each time I screamed out a word, blowing a canyon into the monster's face. "Fuck you!" I screamed wildly, my hair falling madly over my face as I continuously pulled the trigger. I heard footsteps scurry into the room and Jericho and Pullox flooded into the room. They were both okay, though Pullox was a bit cut up and Jericho had something carved lightly into his throat. They glanced at Honora's unconscious body, then at me firing bullets into Magnus' corpse, and then at the corpse in question. It didn't even look human anymore. There was a giant, bloody mush where Magnus' face once was, his body was limp.

He looked like the monster he was. He looked like the monster that tried to take my baby from me. My pale hands trembled and shook as I kept firing into his body, I wanted to hurt him as much as possible.

Jericho tried to restrain me. When I pulled the trigger of the gun, I realised that there were no bullets left in the gun. I stared emptily at the lifeless corpse over Jericho's shoulder as he held me close, hugging me.

"It's okay, he's dead... He's dead..."

"My baby..." Was all I whimpered, feeling dead and empty. "He tried to kill my baby."

Carlie Compton, District 10, 17

The gun shots initially scared me when I heard them. There was one gun shot and another gun shot about a minute later. Then, terrifyingly enough, a massive succession of gunshots followed. I tried to think about the tributes that did have a gun... The Eight girl had one, Seb had one and the Careers had two. However, the gun didn't sound like a shotgun of any kind, so sadly that meant it wasn't Trojan or Seb. When a cannon fired through the air, signalling the final twelve, I finally emerged. I squinted, as I hadn't seen sunlight in a while.

My hideout was brilliant. In one of the courtyards I stumbled across there was a hatch that led underground. The only way in the cellar was through a single hatch, which made me feel secure. I constantly had my crossbow pointed in the direction of the entrance, meaning if anyone were to stumble across my hideout they would get a nasty shock. I'd been hidden away for hours, and had stocked up from water I found in an abandoned kitchen and from cooking a dead fox which I had hunted. I had managed to sustain myself well now I was alone. I'd once believed I was weak. I wasn't.

I heard voices screaming from an open window on the second floor of the Palace. Or a single voice, a female one. It screamed the same thing over and over again:

"My baby!"

It even gave me chills. I double checked my arrows to ensure they were all secure. I had a bunch of regular arrows, some covered in oil (just in case I needed to heat things up) and another bunch that had been dipped in interesting poison which I'd stumbled across in an apothecary. If labels were anything to go by, if somebody was struck by the arrow and managed to survive they'd have a painful couple of hours ahead, and then they'd be relieved by death. I squinted through one of the windows where the despairing voice was coming from. It still screamed, but I don't think I could shoot anything through the window.

Such a shame. I was getting impatient with these Games. Enjoying the brightness and fresh air, I walked to a wooden bench and sat down on it to contemplate. I was actually looking forward to killing. Not because I enjoyed it (the thought of abandoning Aurochs to the savagery of the Careers still sent shockwaves through my intestines and made me feel immeasurably guilty), but I wanted to go home. I missed my daddy. I missed mum, too. And Jared. And the simple luxuries I took for granted, luxuries some other kids in the arena didn't know: hot water, a nutritious meal and fresh clothes.

Things would be awkward when I got home. I guess mum and dad didn't expect me to come home considering they'd raised me to be subservient, pure and polite; even when I played the innocent daddy's girl I was far from innocent. Now I wasn't a daddy's girl. I would still manipulate stronger people to do my bidding, I'd not disposed of that tactic completely, but I was also going to rely on my own strengths. If that meant shooting every single tribute through the skull, so be it. It wasn't my fault, right? I mean, as much as I respected the Capitol, this was their bidding... Not mine.

The only person I'd enjoy killing was Trojan. Seb... I was always going to kill the poor fella, but I liked him. And I guess I do understand why he was angry. But Trojan came along and ruined it all. He enjoyed watching my world collapse around me, too. I remembered his self-satisfied smirks and mindgames, even though they felt like a distant memory. I was doing what I had to do to survive. Trojan wasn't: I knew deep inside Trojan didn't truly care if he lived or died. He just enjoyed ruining everybody else's life for a cheap laugh. If anybody in these Games were evil, it was him.

I'd like to see him smirk when I shot an arrow through his skull. Or maybe I would tie him up and watch him slowly succumb to poison... That would be much more satisfying. I wasn't evil, but if I had to play villain with Trojan in order to get my revenge, so be it.

"Congratulations to the twelve remaining tributes!" Leein Malpin announced, his voice loud and clear for all to hear. I lifted my head towards the sky, almost expecting to see his face. "You are half way through the Games thanks to your survival skills. But don't celebrate too much, the Games are going to be even more dangerous and eleven hearts need to stop beating before our Victor emerges from the arena. Will it be you?"

I stood up, taking a swig of water and sighing. I guess it was time to go back into my hideout. I opened the hatch, throwing it open and peering at the musty cellar beneath before I carefully lowered my body into it. I forgot how dark it was, but my eyes would eventually adjust to the light. I felt almost like a prisoner as I lowered the hatch and felt the darkness descend on myself.

But it was okay. I loved my base: it was safe, I'd built up a good few supplies here and it had my biggest weapon. I turned to look at my biggest asset.

Gunpowder.

Barrels and barrels of gunpowder, all stacked up on shelves. I wouldn't want to light a fire in this room.

Leein was right when he said the Games were going to become so much more dangerous. As soon as I saw Trojan, I was personally going to make sure that we were going to have an explosive time indeed.

... I think I'm having to end every chapter feeling like I really need to justify myself. I know Magnus was painted as the next big villain, and everyone else was going to be caught in the fallout, but they still will - Lorelei will make sure of that (too big a spoiler? Nah).

So we have our final 12! I hope that brought you into the final 12 with a satisfying amount of drama :) And it's only going to get worse. Yay. New poll up!

Who is a Walking Dead fan, btw? Seriously contemplating starting a Walking Dead story where you submit your own survivor, which would be a really fun project, I'm just worried about taking time and energy from this fic. Idk, what do you guys think?

~Toxic

Capitol Commentator Question: What plotlines are you expecting to see develop between the final twelve and the final 8?

Interview Question: I think I'll use this as an AMA, basically, you can all ask me a question each and I'll answer in the next author's note. Narcissism is fun, kids.