A/N Hello everyone! I know this one's a bit shorter, but right now I'm just working on getting chapters out there! I'm sure you'd rather me post this than nothing at all! One more time I want to apologise for the lack of chapters lately! Uni has been hard and stressful and time consuming and should I go on? I'm on autumn holiday right now and in two weeks it will be winter holiday, so hopeful I'll be able to do some writing! I'm also trying to finish these games up quickly-as this story isn't really about the games as much as the aftermath! (Which means there's LOTS LOTS LOTS more to come! Yay!) Anyway... yeah! Thanks for liking it, reading it, reviewing it (Please do more of that by the way! It encourages me to right more! It really truly does!). Okay, enough ramblings... read! Enjoy! Review! - Alise

Adley's POV

It's almost like a rush - getting away with it; seeing them scared; seeing the careers run in fear of the unknown. I look down at the two lifeless bodies before me, they are-were- so young. The boy looks a bit older than Coen... I feel sick. Sick that people would allow 12 year olds to die like this. Sick that we can't do anything about it. Sick that I don't feel sick for killing.

I walk over to where the knife hit Teeg and pick it up. Wiping it off, I mutter the mantra Finnick told me, "I did what I had to do to survive". The only slight hopefulness I have is that I was able to hit Teeg, hopefully I wounded her enough to get an infection or something. I know I need to start working on the Careers, I can't let it be four of them against me.

Or would it be five. I can't shake the feeling that Dars may turn on me, if he hasn't already. We didn't know each other back in Four - he was from the upper district, and my family caught his dinners - he has no reason to help me, no reason not to kill me on sight. I have to shake this annoying instinct to protect him, I have to get used to the idea of possibly killing him.

I secretly hope I don't have to, I hope that the other Careers turn on him, so I don't have to. If I kill him and make it out of here, I don't think I could face my district. They would hate me, I would hate me. I think I do hate me.

I feel nauseous as I walk around trying to decide what to do next. I decide to take it easy for at least the night, try to sleep - there's no point trying to fight the Careers if I'm exhausted. I find a log, small enough that no one would think to look in, but large enough that I can fit. It's a little snug, but I lower myself into it and let the darkness consume me as I fall asleep.

Finnick's POV

Six. Six out of twelve. In two days. She'd killed half of them. Does she even know that she's killed half of them? I stare at the screen in front of me and focus on the small child resting peacefully in the log, I shutter at myself - not peacefully, never peacefully. I know, personally, that her night will be plagued with horrific images of everyone she loves dying, of everyone she's killed coming back and doing their worst. It's the burden of the games. With her death count I silently hope she doesn't make it out. There is no recovering from murdering that many people, that many children. No matter what you tell yourself.

But, still, as I watch her small chest rise and fall, her dark hair falling into her sleeping eyes, the way her nose twitches slightly in the cold air, I can't help but think that she has to make it out. I feel such a strong connection to her, one that I have never felt for a tribute.

I look around at the watching room. In the last few hours most of the mentors have packed up and left, some for good, and some just for the night. But I stay, I always stay. Max is asleep in her armchair, Cashmere, the mentor from One, is staring worriedly at her screen, tugging on her brother, Gloss', sleeve urgently.

From my seat I can hear her whisper, "We have to get her some, her leg" Cashmere is getting frantic, and I watch as Gloss pulls her into a comforting embrace. Slowly his eyes lift up from where they were buried in her shoulder to catch mine, I see pain and worry, but mostly anger. I know Gloss isn't angry with me, but it sure doesn't help that my kid has apparently wounded his.

Eventually I settle into my armchair.

I don't remember falling asleep, but it couldn't have been for long. I am awoken by the sound of the Panem Anthem. I watch as the victims of the last day race by the screen. In addition to the few that Adley killed, I notice the boy from 7 and the girl from 8 were also killed, most likely by the Careers. I'm starting to think these games won't be slow at all.