Day Ten, Morning

Pullox Shimmers, District 1, 18

Carlie interested me.

I'd been spending the last day observing her. She was clever. She knew what she had to do to survive, possibly more than anyone else in the arena - including me. When I held her as a prisoner, knowing Jericho would magnetically pull towards a damsel in distress, she instead offered herself as an ally. She didn't flinch when she killed a Career. She was petite and pretty, but that didn't hide the survivor I saw inside.

But survivors weren't what I wanted. Carlie's use to me had ended. For Carlie to survive, I had to die, and that wasn't really what I wanted. I sat on the large throne, my eyes fixated on the girl opposite and not on the screens that buzzed around me. I had to kill her, but I didn't know how. She held her crossbow in her arms. I wished I confiscated it from her, but appeared that she needed it in order to have a shred of my trust. Now I couldn't just aim a gun at her and shoot her. I had to kill her discreetly, and I needed to do it before she killed me.

Carlie noticed I was watching her. She eyed me for a second, not saying anything.

"What's goin' through your brain?" She asked.

"I'm just excited. For what's to come," I gave her my best smile.

"Yeah?" Carlie looked down at her crossbow. "Well I sure ain't. Do you miss your family?"

Now, if Carlie aimed to catch me off guard she certainly succeeded. I hadn't expected her to cut so deep and personal. Nobody had asked me about my family since entering the Games, and I preferred it that way. When I saw the District Eleven girl I was briefly reminded me of Floy, and it gave me a severe moment of weakness. Fortunately, that girl was now dead, and it wasn't by my hand. I was willing to kill everyone in the arena with no regrets. But Carlie had made me think of Floy again. And my parents. And even the more distant members of my family.

Did I miss anybody? I'd always been a lonely boy. Who needed friends when your parents had wealth? I didn't know if I missed anybody except Floy. I guess I missed little things, like my father's cooking or my mother's tendency to let me do anything I pleased.

"It's only been ten days," I said crisply. I'd see my family soon enough anyway.

Carlie just shrugged. Interesting observation - Carlie did miss someone, or multiple people. Carlie wasn't like me. She had so many emotions swirling through that clever little brain of hers. She was a girl who followed her heart masquerading as a girl who followed her head. It was such a shame she had to die so soon. Unlike Jericho, there were so many dimensions to her. It made her interesting.

I returned my attention to the many screens before me. Carlie had pulled me in so much that I'd almost forgotten that there were seven other tributes out there who had to die. I wondered who was next, and if any would go before Carlie? I scratched my blonde hair, which was now extremely dirty. Honora was prowling the Palace for victims; she was very far away. The Eights were tucked away in their little sanctuary and the Three and Six boy, who were also dormant after the brutality of their last battle. And then there was Lexie and Lia... I laughed out loud.

They'd separated since I'd last meddled with them. I was hoping that their dramas would be resolved. I bet that drew in audiences. Carlie glared at me suspiciously as I rubbed my palms together. Lia was in some kind of vineyard, walking around wearily, her cunning eyes never losing any sign of attention. Then there was Lexie. I realised very quickly that Lexie was not walking.

She was flying.

I tried to look for special effects - for anything - but there was none. She was drifting across the grounds, her determined eyes set on the Palace as she hovered around it. Damn. She was powerful

I'd had plans for Lexie, but I'd realised she was growing stronger and stronger by the day. Even without the party tricks the Gamemakers had bestowed on her I saw her as a competent and intelligent tribute. But now she'd been given a very unfair advantage, and I had to use my unfair advantage to bring her down. I couldn't afford to just toy with her now. She had to die. She was my biggest threat. Alarms went off in my head as I desperately searched for some way to smite her.

The screens before me suddenly died, bursting into nothingness. Carlie perked up again, noting what I had noted. I thought there was a glitch or something and waited for the screens to return, but for a full ten or twenty seconds I was only surrounded by some kind of thin air. I grew impatient and - as much as I didn't want to admit it - I even grew scared.

"Pullox, your power has been voted away by the Capitol citizens," Leein announced, sounding very entertained. Thank goodness for plan B. "Jericho was popular amongst the Capitol, being handsome, strong and kind. You took away one of the Capitol's favourite tributes, and for that you will pay. Your reign has been usurped." A dark laugh was audible as I stood up, looking for any sign of danger. Carlie also took the hint and we both grabbed supplies simultaneously, bundling them together.

"What's happening?" Carlie said. I rushed towards her.

"We need to get out of here before something bad arriv-" I paused when I heard an almost deafening roar.

Oh. So this is what the Gamemakers sent after me. And it certainly would've doomed me if I hadn't already prepared for what was so to come; the clockwork robots that were scrambled around the arena were congregated into one, like a miniature army. Their formal apparel, curled wigs and discerning masks all blurred together as they almost charged through the doorway. They looked like they were very angry with me and were shouting strange sentences:

"Down with the bourgeoisie!" Some bellowed.

"Liberty!"

What scared me most were the blades that protruded down their 'arms.' Just as they passed through the doorway I yanked the crossbow which Carlie held, not wanting to waste any of my own ammo. They weren't after her anyway. As she gave me a dismayed looked I raised the bow, shooting it so that it sliced through the wire above the doorway. The concoction I had created fell, and upon creating an impact it released a large fireball of concentrated destruction.

The intensity of the blast was enough to send Carlie off her feet, while the flames that expanded and hit the bots had reduced them to mere pieces. A whole army destroyed so simply. Smirking, I easily picked off one or two bots that were out of the explosions' vicinity, and thus a graveyard of technology was sprawled out in front of me. Sadly, the blast had also destroyed a large section of the wall and ceiling. Rubble and dust was still falling and the remnant of the inferno had given birth to more flames before my eyes.

"What the?" Carlie struggled to get up. I gripped her, helping her to her feet.

"It's going to be okay," I smiled. "We're alive, see?"

"Yeah," Carlie looked at the impact of the explosion, a little intimidated. The fire shone into her pretty, scared eyes. "Good one. We need to get out of here."

I nodded. For now, Carlie agreed with me, which did help her live that little bit longer. I pushed her crossbow right back into her arms, reaching into my belt for a dagger and withdrawing it. We tentatively made our way through the ruins into a more pristine corridor outside.

Trojan Reid, District 3, 15

I jolted up out of bed, my bare feet greeting the cold, wooden floor. It was completely empty. For a moment, I had to adjust. My vision had yet to be focused and I had no idea where I was or what I was doing. There was a faint noise buzzing in my ears. But despite this, I felt refreshed. Like I'd just woke up from a small albeit extremely satisfying nap. The room I was in was a comfortable bedroom. There was nothing in it bar a bed and a few bookshelves... It was much too luxurious to be any old house in District Three. What had happened?

Suddenly, something quick. I rewinded ten days in ten seconds, my heart almost hurting as every experience hit me. The reapings. The pre-Games events. Liz's death. Carlie. The Victor's Vial. Seb. The fight in the ballroom.

"Fuck," I mumbled.

The Eight girl had won. Or she had in theory, anyway. She had shoved me and I remembered landing on my head and being plunged into darkness immediately. Surely that should've killed me? I rubbed the back of my head, noting there was no trace of an injury. My bright red hair was beginning to show under the usual brown dye I'd cloaked it with. How the hell did that happen? Just a glance out of the window told me I was still in the arena - I still had to play these godforsaken Games. That must've meant I'd been given the Victor's Vial. I remembered how it saved Seb.

Almost as if on cue, Seb burst into the room. His kind yet tired eyes swept over my features and he froze. Then he smiled, as if he were glad to see me awake. He moved to the end of the bed and sat on it.

"Hey," he said. I think he wanted to say something else, but he refrained.

"Hi," I was still glancing out of the window. "So. I'm alive."

"Yeah, I gave you the Victor's Vial..." Seb paused. "I was wondering if it worked. If too much damage had already been done. You didn't wake up. You were out for a while, just out cold. You must've had it really bad..." He paused. "I thought that if you were out for more than two days I'd have to..." Another pause, this one more awkward, though I refused to react. "If we didn't have that Vial, we'd have both died." Way of pointing out the obvious, Sherlock. I'd thought about the Eight girl. All that time worrying over Careers and yet, for some reason, she intimidated me the most. There was something cold about her, yet she had a burning hot fury and I didn't want to be scalded again. "And I don't know what to do now. We have no gun. We have no food. We only have water from the Palace."

"Weapons?" I said.

"Knives."

I nodded. That was all I needed. I had been mentally tangled with the Gamemakers' theatrics. If they could even draw me into their little story I knew they were doing a good job - but I had to remembered that beyond the special effects and the fantasy subplots this was nothing more than a glamourised fight to the death. I was an expert in survival. My parents had raised me with the mantra of doing anything I had to in order to survive; I knew just how to do that. I just needed water, a little food, a knife and my own wits about me.

When I'd first entered the Games, I was calm. Despite doing everything I could to avoid it, I didn't fear death. It was simply a state of non-being. But my brush with it had reminded me that a state of non-being was horrible. It was dark, cold and lonely. I initially approached the Games with morbid curiosity. But now there was only fear. It wasn't enough fear to make me panic, but I acknowledged that there was a fear within me nonetheless.

I didn't know if it would be a good motivator or if it made me weak. Now I had something in common with all of the tributes, including the Careers: I definitely, definitely did not want to die.

"What do we do now?" Sebastian asked me hesitantly. "I mean, we have to do something."

I snapped the curtain shut, pulling it over the window. A shadow descended over the room. Now I was fully conscious and aware, I realised that I was feeling a thousand emotions at once. It was like an electric shock that hit me hard. I'd spent my whole life so numb, and now I was in a state of feeling everything. Regret, gratitude, anger. I even missed my parents.

"We get our revenge," I said. "No party tricks. The good old fashioned way. The Eight girl is a threat, she almost killed me."

"And me..."

Oh. Damn.

"So I think we find her. And we grab her in front of her boyfriend," it was so strange to me, how close the Eight couple were. And I knew they were close - when they were together, I almost felt their longing for each other. The closest person in the arena to me was Sebastian, someone I could kill in the blink of an eye. "We make him watch as we slit her throat. And we'll make sure he's helpless as she bleeds in our arms." Sebastian looked uncomfortable, but what I said next almost horrified him: "Then we leave him for dead. Like how they left us. If he survives, so be it," I smirked. "But he probably won't."

"But..." Sebastian exhaled. "Okay..."

Suddenly another feeling hit me. This was like a new experience. It was like being reborn again, but this time I was experiencing life with intensity. I didn't know if I liked it. It made me feel so much stronger, but also so much vulnerable. To want more of the Victor's Vial seemed like a longing to go down a dangerous path, but it was a deep longing nonetheless. A longing I'd never experienced before.

"And do you have any of that Vial, Seb?"

He looked uncomfortable. "I used it all up to save us." He looked at the floor, almost shuffling his feet. "There's none left."

Darius Cortez, District 8, 16

When I woke up, Mirane was by my bedside. Her strong hands were clasped onto mine. I was still in a load of pain, but that was inevitable. I'd had broken ribs, my face was virtually broken and I had no eyes. How I was still alive was beyond me. I guess that's what happened if someone had your back. Saving Mirane back at the bloodbath was a sensible decision afterall.

"Hey Buster," Mirane smiled down at me, something immensely grateful in her tone. "How are you?"

"I feel like death," I croaked. She laughed.

"Here, you need some water," she showed me half a glass. "I only poured a little. I'm beginning to really worry about the water levels. I'm guessing the Gamemakers are going to cut them off soon, or something," I nodded, virtually downing the whole thing. When I tapped into the camera system I saw her at my bedside, looking as beautiful as ever. However, something about her seemed battle hardened. Which I guessed was natural, but I knew something was wrong. I guess the fact she'd killed two teenage boys and watched a young girl get her throat slit didn't help.

In fact, a part of me had been affected by that. I felt kind of hollow inside. It didn't bring the death Hadley's had, but despite being so much less gory it had disturbed a part in me so much more. And yet I didn't know Willow the same way I knew Hadley. And by now, as twisted as it was, I'd grown to accept death as something normal. Which wasn't necessarily untrue, but I couldn't get used to the Hunger Games. I had to remind myself that everything about this was wrong. Mirane shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be here. So many others shouldn't be dead.

I groaned, leaning up slightly. Mirane watched me warily.

"What's the plan then?"

"I don't know. I think we need to get out of here," she told me. "You know what the Gamemakers do to dormant tributes."

"And back into the Palace?" I said wearily. "Where everybody else is?" I gulped.

"Yeah," Mirane sighed. "I have my gun. You have your... lack of eyes, so we'll be okay."

"At least we don't have to deal with the Six and Three boys. Not anymore."

Mirane cleared her throat. I turned towards her, immediately put on high alert. It wasn't often I'd hear Mirane sound so tentative or weary: "Well, there's something fucked up..." Mirane turned away from me, sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose unconsciously. "Look, I don't know what happened but those two aren't dead. They should be, after everything, but they're not." I felt confused. How had they not died? They were at least dying, right? "I don't know. Their faces weren't in the sky. The Two boy's was, but theirs not so much."

The Two boy's? Well, a dead Career was never something to complain about. But what the hell had happened?

"Wh... What?" I said, confused.

"I don't know, Buster," Mirane sighed. "But we both know there was something up with the Six boy. He could do things... strange things... and then there's you with your ability to see through the cameras. It's just weird. This arena is fucked up. It's like they're building us up to crush us. Again and again and again. I feel like us being killed isn't enough. They want us to suffer for the camera first. So those two are alive and hopefully in a lot of trouble, but they're alive nonetheless. But we've taken them before. I know I can kill them both again."

I slumped back into bed. Somehow, the sadness hit me. Willow was dead. She was just a tiny girl and now... She was nothing. It was stupid to be so torn up over it, but that was the reality and the fact her killers were alive despite our best attempts to deliver justice just meant that there was salt rubbed on the wound. Maybe Mirane was right. Maybe the Gamemakers were doing it to hurt me. I couldn't let them see that they were succeeding.

This wasn't the Hunger Games anymore. The Hunger Games was twisted enough, but over the last century or two the Gamemakers had decided that it wasn't quite brutal enough; starvation was slow and dull, so they rarely let it happen. It'd be so much more aptly named if it was called the fucked up mind Games.

"I'm so sorry, Darius," Mirane said to me sadly. "I know you liked Willow."

"You liked her too," I said sadly.

"I did," Mirane gave a very small, melancholic laugh. "I... I saw a bit of myself in her. And I guess seeing yourself in a dead girl is just asking for pain. Because now I realised that I can die. And you can," I knew I probably would die. Maybe instead of surviving I had to prepare for death, or prepare to say goodbye to Mirane. Because I was badly injured, kind of blind and I never had good prospects to begin with. I was a fighter; I'd defied the odds and maybe won myself a place in the final eight, but a part of me inside knew that I wasn't the victor.

Mirane could be, though.

"I wish I could avenge her," I sighed, turning away from Mirane. "I wish I could have avenged Hadley, but what can I do?"

"Stay with me," Mirane said lowly. "You do that pretty well."

"For how long?"

"I don't know," Mirane said. "But I know that we care for each other, right? So we just need to hang in there and just brace ourselves for the worst. I'll give you some more time to rest, and I'll give myself... I don't know. I guess I need time to think. Then tonight we're out of here." I heard Mirane grab her gun before standing. "And don't worry. No matter what happens we'll make sure Willow's death isn't vain."

I hoped so. I really did.

Sebastian Keating, District 6, 17

"Do you know how to make your way to their little..." Trojan thought of the word as we descended a flight of steps. "Abode?"

I thought. "Well, I know how to get from the ballroom from here," that was a room a definitely wanted to avoid. "And then I know how to get to their courtyard from there." I didn't know if Mirane and Darius would even be at the courtyard; were they that stupid? They'd know we could find them again. Maybe they were somewhere else, and if they were, how would we initiate Trojan's rushed plan?

"Good," Trojan and I stormed through a stone corridor. "Because I want to find them and kill the girl. They almost killed me and they wasted that vial on us."

I didn't say anything, but as Trojan and I walked past a courtyard that had been completely obliterated (there was nothing but a hole in the ground) I realised that I didn't know how I felt about keeping Trojan alive. You know the stereotype about people coming back from the dead not quite right? Well Trojan came back from the near dead not quite right. Interestingly enough, I noted that he was more human than ever. I'd never seen his exhibit such a spectrum of emotions so quickly. And yet this made him seem so much more dangerous.

And then there was his plan to kill Mirane. Well, that was something else I didn't want to do. I knew I had to kill - and I was prepared to kill the Eight tributes - but I didn't want to be cruel. I didn't want to lavish in the brutality and blood - by wanting that, Trojan had stooped down to the Careers' level. And my one experience with killing was enough to make me feel awful. I'd not been able to get Willow out of my head.

The way she looked at me, the way she grabbed her bleeding throat in a desperate attempt to survive. She was only a child. And I just took her life and crushed it into nothingness.

I wasn't going to make any excuses for it: it was awful. I was awful.

Even before Willow I knew I'd done bad things. Things that I'd always regretted. I'd lied, I'd cheated, I'd stolen. And I tried to make myself think I was a good person. But deep inside me there was a dark side.

And now Trojan wanted me to do it all again. To take another life. And there was no doubt I would; Trojan had all the power. We'd allied out of necessity and now I was just his henchman who did all the awful things. I'd noted he'd yet to kill, but I hadn't. I'd done the dirty work. Didn't that technically make me worse than him?

I was scared and confused. I knew that if it weren't for the Victor's Vial and it's ecstatic rush I would've gone insane. A part of me wanted to stab Trojan in the back, and yet there was some kind of attachment there. He didn't give a shit about me, but I'd known Trojan for a week. I'd probably learned more about him than anyone else had. I'd even had glimpses into his vulnerabilities and into his humanity, which he certainly had.

We passed another courtyard. Trojan took a minute, leaning against the wall. Like the pathetic lapdog I was, I halted. I pressed my palm against the glass and felt its coldness while my breath forged a mist that attached itself to the pane. Outside the snow that once fell was reduced to a darkened slush that bled out numerous, ice cold puddles. The sky was bleak and dreary.

"It's been ten days," I said to myself emptily. "How long left do you think it'll be?"

"Be?" Trojan asked me.

"Before we die."

"Never," he said firmly. I wish I had his confidence. But I was going to die. The Victor's Vial had saved me before. I wasn't weak, but now we had two Careers, the Eight girl, Trojan and a handful of others who probably had talents I didn't anticipate. I was just your plain old average Seb. I was meant to die around the final twelve mark if I were lucky. Now I was super lucky.

Needing a release, I slipped open our near empty backpack. Trojan had started walking again, not glancing back at me. I removed the Victor's Vial, which I'd tucked away neatly. Only a quarter of its contents was left. Not much, but I had told Trojan it was empty. I had lied. I didn't want him to have the one thing that was worth living for. I couldn't share. Once that Vial went, unlike Trojan, I was nothing. I was just plain old Seb. I wanted to feel extraordinary. My blood often boiled for the stuff, my skin itched for it. I needed the strength it gave me.

I unscrewed the cap and took only one small sip - it was enough. The effect was instantaneous. As the power and the ecstacy flowed through me I shakily stuffed it back into the bag, leaning against the wooden and glass panes and sighing with ecstasy.

As long as Trojan didn't know, I would be okay. And the Vial would be all mine.

There was a Capitol POV scheduled for this chapter, but I might just push it into the next chapter just to keep this chapter an all boys' chapter. Because the ladies had their spotlight.

Yeah, the final eight is super close. Super duper close. I'm kind of nervous. Plz review?