LUDUS MORTIS
The Game of Death
Jelavelle touched him with more care than Enki thought she would. It was as if she was scared of breaking him – scared of ruining his chances in the arena. She wouldn't – he knew that – but it was endearing all the same to see her take care with him.
She zipped up the lightweight jacket, stone grey in colour with a thin layer of fleece inside for insulation, and handed him some study walking boots. Wordlessly (there was nothing to say, not really) he did the laces. The shoes were snug – not enough to cause discomfort but enough so he could run and not be hindered.
Can't have the kill pressure being compromised, Enki thought to himself sardonically as he stood in front of Jelavelle once more. Though a solemn moment, her face was as bright as anything and adorned with a radiant smile that was almost wistful.
"Gosh this reminds me of the Seventy-Fourth Games." Her voice was dreamy as if she were recounting a long lost thing as she touched at his hair.
Enki frowned. One thing the Academy had drilled into the trainees' head was that everything in the Games had a significance. Nothing was inserted into the Games that didn't serve a specific purpose, either for the tributes themselves or Panem proper. Paranoid (but rightfully so, in Enki's opinion), his mind fluttered to what the Peacekeepers had called him when they took him to the central area of Two.
"Filthy rebel."
"Traitor."
"Dissenter."
It all flooded back to him, mind unable to stop making the connection between the two. Enki grit his teeth, forcing himself to focus.
It's just two weeks. I can keep this up for two more weeks, surely?
A voice over the intercom announced it was thirty seconds till launch. Enki recognised the voice from somewhere but couldn't quite place where – likely it was just some Capitol presenter he had heard over the television he and Cleo had watched. He stepped to the plate, footsteps heavy and dragging.
"Good luck, hope you get some kills!" Jelavelle was jovial as the glass lowered around him, eager for her next bit of entertainment for the year.
Enki flashed her a confident smile but his stomach dropped; the incessant pit inside still forming as the reality of his situation reared its ugly head once more. He went to offer her a wave – a nice formality, really – but changed his mind last second and crossed his arms instead. I can't be weak, not now.
The plate jerked upwards with a thump, leaving Enki to the fate of the Odds.
Enki had to adjust his eyes to the brightness. The sun shone directly above them, unrelenting in its light and heat. He was glad that the temperature was bearable – last year the arena had been one that shifted from extreme hot to extreme cold and many of the tributes had died from that. The year before had been a sweltering, monsoon, sticky heat that radiated from even the television screens. He was grateful for something bearable, but wondered why his jacket had a layer of insulation in, if the climate was so light.
He was unable to focus his thoughts on that for too long, instead his training kicked in and he scanned the immediate surroundings.
The Cornucopia itself was on a small island in the middle of a big lake, strips of land connecting the central island to whatever laid beyond the lake's borders. To the north was a mountain range with snow capped peaks, reminding him of District Two. Smoke billowed from the top of one of them but, in good faith, Enki decided to chalk that down to a simple cloud as to not make himself even more paranoid than he already was. Behind him, to the south, was a dense forest; to west, sand dunes as far as the eye could see and in the east, a less dense forest. The pedestals themselves were on the same small island as the Cornucopia and it became clear to Enki that the Gamemakers intended for the Bloodbath to be intense and a good viewing. It was fucked up but Enki couldn't focus about that now, he had to prioritise surviving.
He scanned the other tributes trying to find his allies. Some looked scared, others determined. He saw Hearterelle and Molly kneeling down to a crouching position, ready to spring to their weapons. Copying them (and noticing Finnos and Cleo doing the same), Enki decided to focus his mind on the cold, hard plate against his knee. Looking at the Cornucopia, he saw a maul. It was more decorative than the one he had used in his private training session and gleamed in the sunlight.
That's my maul.
The arena was eerily quiet, only the sound of his own breaths filling the space. He hadn't realised just how laboured his breaths were in anticipation. It unnerved him but he couldn't focus on that – the countdown waited for nobody.
To his left was one of the girls from Twelve who continued to stare at the smoking mountain with trepidation, her mind clearly whirring for an explanation. To his right was Bissette from Three. She, much to his surprise based on their last encounter, wore a determined expression and stared rigidly at the Cornucopia. There was something in the back of Enki's head, screaming through all the noise, that told him he needed to be wary of her.
He took the mental note and faced back to the Cornucopia himself. Ellara's words before he stepped into the hovercraft echoed in his head; "One kill minimum – if you want any hope of surviving more than a few days in the alliance."
It was a command and, as Enki had come to learn in his few years living in District Two proper, he was good at following them. He could do that. He could just turn off his brain and take one life – countless people did it before him. He was ready to do so at one point to protect his home. He could do it now… right?
Ten.
He'd have to, if he had any chance of surviving.
Five seconds.
Enki forced his heart to stop thumping, the sound ringing in his ears.
Four seconds.
He had to win, for Marida.
Three seconds.
He had to win for Ellara and the prestige of District Two.
Two seconds.
He had to win for all of those he left behind – all of those who were either killed or led lives of silence.
One second.
He had to win for himself.
Fire surged through Enki's limbs after the gong sounded as he sprinted from the plate. Like he thought, the boots were flexible enough to allow for a decent sprint. He was glad that his height didn't betray him like it usually did – memories briefly flashed in his head of all the times he had tripped during the athletics tournaments the Academy held, often forcing him to laugh it off. Things were different now. This wasn't a case of practising with others his age. This was life or death and Enki very much intended to live through it.
He was the third of the Careers to Cornucopia, only half a click behind Ponderosa. The other half weren't too far behind, each springing to their preferred weapon and turning to wreak havoc on the other tributes.
Handing him the maul and flashing a smile Enki had only ever seen during the Mocks and the Tourney, Cleo nodded at him. "Let's have some fun, huh Kiki?"
Enki was thankful that the Career mindset took over, spurred and encouraged by the Cornucopia's atmosphere. There was no time to think – no time to doubt himself in the moment. He had one job, one command from Ellara, and he intended to complete it. Nodding and flashing a similar smile back at her, Enki scanned the arena for an easy target.
His eyes were drawn to her like a magnet, like destiny had promised her to him; Bissette.
It only took him charging at her for the determined expression she wore to morph into one of fear, the one he often saw tributes from Three wearing. Gone were the scowls she had given him at the private training sessions and she dared not speak to him like she had done. In fact, she could barely muster a scream before the maul's face connected with her head, her body crumpling under its weight.
The crack he heard wasn't the most pleasant and tempted memories of the initiation to resurface in his head but Enki stopped them. He was a Career and he needed to act like one, he knew that. To prove a point to himself, he brought the hammer on the girl's head again, just to make sure she wasn't a threat anymore.
Hope you're proud, Ellara.
The screams brought him back to his senses; the terrified begs of those not ready to die but too paralyzed to stop fate's course. All caused by him and his alliance; they ran from his maul, Tiaran's spears, Cleo's boundless energy with a longsword and Faunus' gracile movements with the axes. Some of them were lucky, managing to snag a backpack and make off to the various areas of the arena. A few of the tributes, out of pure fear, launched themselves into the lake's waters in an attempt to protect themselves from the Careers – not that it mattered. One of the young twelvies from Twelve had learnt that the hard way as Finnos had dived in after him and wasted little time in scoring his kill.
The other tributes dispersed quickly, those smart enough to not try and fight the Careers over the weapons, grateful they had survived one of the worst parts of the entire ordeal. Those who tempted fate laid dead, glassy eyes devoid of life.
This feels quicker than it seems on TV, Enki thought as the adrenaline that coursed through his veins began to slow – his sense no longer controlled by the taught instincts within him. He took stock of the Cornucopia now, after all of the tributes had scavenged what they could. A few deflated packs littered the grass; some were open from tributes desperately trying to search for something and discarding it when it revealed its lack of contents. Others seemed to have something – likely survival gear. According to Ellara, ever since the Games restarted the makers threw bones to some of the tributes and made the packs furthest from the centre full of survival gear. Useful, if one knew how to utilise them. He ignored the bodies of the deceased tributes that had fallen unceremoniously. Enki could only count five but he had no doubts that there were many more – he had seen his allies rushing wildly around the place.
His alliance collected around the mouth of the Cornucopia, eager to lay out a plan for the first few days of the Games. A rogue arrow, however, stopped them amidst shouts from some of them, warning their allies to lay low and duck.
The perpetrator, the boy from Five, had been firing arrows from a shoddily made bow that Enki could just tell wouldn't last. Another false sense of hope for the other tributes… All of his shots had been unceremoniously bad (one had grazed Tiaran but only managed to tear some of the jacket) and before long he realised he was a sitting duck; his face morphed into panic and worry.
Without missing a beat, Tiaran picked one of his spears and threw it at the boy. It pierced through his stomach, sending him to the ground with a howl. The noise hurted Enki's ears. Not because it was loud (though it was, unnecessarily to an embarrassing degree) but because of the desperation. Nobody wanted to die bleeding out – Keepers, even Enki had heard the butchers in Ten did what they could to minimise the pain for the livestock. The Careers exchanged glances, the unspoken question being asked – who?
"I want the kill," Molly had said, her words leaving her mouth before anyone else could speak up.
"But he was on my hit list!" Ponderosa retorted, glaring at the girl from Four with nothing less than malice in her eyes. "That fucker is mine."
"As if, I saw you kill two of the kids from Twelve!" Tiaran was indignant. "Besides, my spear is already in him! Just let him bleed out and beg like a dog."
Enki winced at the boy's words. He knew they were coming, in some form, but it was still a shock to hear them. He had, for a time, liked to imagine the other Career districts as being different from Two but, alas, there was little to distinguish.
"Fuck off! I just wanna kill him!" Molly's voice crackled with desperation, her scimitar already raised in anticipation.
Ponderosa, Molly and Tiaran continued to argue for a minute more, much to the dismay of the other Careers. Each of them were eager to fight their case as to why they deserved the kill, all whilst having enough respect not to steal it. Hearterelle, Cleo, Enki, Finnos and Faunus could only exchange glances of disbelief at what they were hearing. Enki kept his mouth closed, mostly out of not wanting to say something that'd escalate it further – that was he last thing any of them needed.
What the fuck is going on, Finnos had mouthed at Enki, prompting him to only shrug in return. All Enki knew was that they were louder than the noise that rang in his head – and that said something.
With a sigh (a dramatic one – Enki wanted them to see what he was doing), he walked over to the boy who continued to howl in pain. Looming over him, nothing struck Enki as particularly memorable. Hell, he couldn't even remember the boy's name. Without a second thought – because those gave him a chance to expose a weakness – he brought his maul on the boy's chest. Once. Twice. Three times until he felt his ribcage shatter underneath the weight of the metal face. The boy's breathing staggered after that, coming to stop as his body laid motionless. Enki could feel the stares of the other Careers on his back – each boring a hole onto him, watching his actions and analysing them. He knew they were deciding things about him; how they felt about him, if he was a threat and if he needed to be removed quickly. He bit his lip as he turned, deciding to look at the positive.
Getting kills means sponsors. We need sponsors, right?
That quelled his nerves enough for him to don the persona once more.
"Sorry for taking whoever's kill that was," Enki said as he returned to the other Careers, meeting their watchful gazes with a shrug. "Figured we ought to get it done."
"Anything that shuts her up." Faunus shot Molly an impudent look. "Really? Let's fucking grow up."
The other Careers glanced at Molly who had gone red in the face. She shrugged, letting out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. Tiaran and Ponderosa stifled laughs, riding on the success of the girl being the target of the blame. The rest of them let the awkward silence settle.
Enki didn't know what he expected out of his alliance (he did – and it wasn't what he got) but he knew the silence unnerved him. Animosity bred into distrust and distrust bred into betrayal and in the arena, betrayal was death. The last thing he wanted was the alliance falling apart prematurely and resulting in his death if he weren't careful.
"We all on the board then?" Faunus asked, looking at each member of the alliance expectedly as he broke the silence.
"I got two – both of them from Twelve," Cleo replied, smiling smugly and indulging in her achievements.
"Same here," Enki said not a second later, figuring a united front with Cleo would serve him well. He had seen how vicious she could be. "Girl from three and him." He nodded to the body of the Five boy, blood from his chest still soaking the jacket.
Ponderosa joined Enki and Cleopatra, scoring two kills whilst both of the Ones, Finnos and Faunus each had one kill to their name. When it came to Molly, Enki noticed the sheepish look on her face.
"And you, Molly?" Faunus' eyebrows were raised. It was clear he hoped that everyone had at least one mark on their tally, just to let the arena know the Careers were alive and thriving.
An acute silence settled across the alliance and seven sets of eyes bore holes on the girl from Four. She glanced at them all, her silence shouting all that needed to be known. It made her desperation to kill the boy from Five make sense to Enki; she had needed it more than him to put herself on the board.
No. You can't think like that. We're going to survive.
"Well, I –" The carefree girl who bounced her curls at the interview was a fleeting memory as Molly stammered out her words.
Nobody wanted to be seen as the first weak link in the Careers (Keepers did the trainers at the Academy drone on about that) but it was an inevitable fact. Briefly, Enki felt sorry for the girl but was relieved. He had spent the last few days paranoid that it was he who would be targeted first but, at her failure to secure a bloodbath kill, Molly had squarely placed that on her back.
"Wait… don't tell me you didn't get anything?" Tiaran sounded completely bemused by it. "Seriously?" His laugh was loud and obnoxious and it didn't help he looked at the others for encouragement in his laughter. Hearterelle gave it to him, only after she rolled her eyes. "Fuck me is Four going downhill. Even Seven got more kills than you."
Enki shared a glance with Cleo. It was going to be a harder alliance than either of them wanted.
The rest of the first day had been spent establishing the Cornucopia as their base. Tiaran had argued they needed to go tribute hunting especially after seventeen tributes (nine, not including themselves) continued to roam the arena. Faunus had firmly shut the idea down, telling the alliance that leading the other tributes into a false sense of security would benefit them later on. Some of the other Careers tried to take Tiaran's side but, in the end, Faunus' stubbornness won out and they had spent the afternoon collating their spoils into rations and individual packs. Secretly, Enki was glad that they were prolonging the hunting element of the games. He supposed it didn't matter too much – he had already ended the lives of two people – but it was nice to avoid the inevitable, even if just for a little while.
You couldn't save your home but you'll kill for their sport? Pathetic. The voice inside his head was incessant. It had gotten louder as the day went on, reminding him of what he couldn't do before and what he was doing in the arena. He knew it was fucked (he didn't need the voice to tell him that) but it was a matter of survival. Enki tried to tell himself it was different somehow, yet… He forced himself not to think about it the best he could, lest it continued to whirr inside his head and distract him from his main goal: survival.
In the end, the alliance decided it was more opportune to go hunting at night. Choosing the sparser forest, they eagerly chatted about tributes they needed to eliminate.
"I heard that the Elevens, Twelves and Thirteens tried to create an alliance," Faunus had said with a scoff. "Called themselves the 'Anti-Careers' or something. What a joke, right?"
The response had gotten a few laughs, though Finnos did try to argue that it sounded like a cool enough name. He was unsuccessful, but Enki managed to laugh at a few of the exaggerated points the boy from Four made.
In the end, the alliance decided that the older tributes needed to go. Together, through the eight of them, they were able to place fleeting names to faces. Hatcher, the boy from Eleven, was the one who scored a nine so that naturally made him a threat. Hearterelle warned them about Soleil from Five, noting she 'had that mad crazy eye' when practising sword fighting at the training centre and Cleo simply said Chantilly from Eight just seemed to be the type to persist through everything. Enki himself recounted what Zeno from Three had said to him and the others agreed that, whilst not necessarily damning, it seemed districts like Three needed to be put in their place again.
They decided to go hunting after the portraits were shown in the sky, Faunus eager to make sure that they had figured out correctly who had died and if someone was unaccounted for. Though Enki was placid, still happy to delay what needed to be done, even he thought it was overcautious for a Career. Aren't we supposed to be the ones terrorising people? Am I in the wrong alliance?
Enki had spent the time waiting for the portraits to be shown in the sky talking to Hearterelle, Finnos and Cleo. The four of them laughed over memories that happened back home (thanks to Theseus and Lynaera, Enki had a few to share of his own). It was quaint and made Enki forget he was in the arena (made him forget he killed someone), even if it were for a little while.
"So there's this guy at the Academy – Agoris, right," Hearterelle began, flicking her ponytail behind her shoulder as she leant in close to them. "And he's like, a total creep. Very much bottom of the Career pack tryna convince everyone he's the leader or something –"
Enki found himself eating some dried fruits and nuts, enamoured with the story and hanging onto every word. Partially because Hearterelle was a captivating storyteller (from what he had experienced) but he also refused to let the opportunity to know about life somewhere else in Panem pass him by.
" – But just before the Selection Tournament, he tried to pick a fight with Tiaran and got absolutely destroyed. Total infirmary case and he refused to show his face after."
Enki, Cleo and Finnos glanced over at Tiaran who simply smiled at them and waved, unaware of what they were talking about.
"I wouldn't wanna fight Tiaran," Cleo admitted, glancing back at the other three. "Not hand combat, at least. Those dainty hands look dangerous."
Hearterelle snorted at the comment as Finnos casually mentioned he could take him, waggling his eyebrows after to the delight of the other three.
The full moon in the sky shone brightly and in full. Beautiful, if Enki ignored where he was. Not a single cloud dared to tread in its way. It reminded Enki of an old world book he had first read when he joined the Academy about a Queen (something like Presidents, he was told) and her servants who stepped aside from her. It was a befitting comparison; the moon looked more regal than he had ever remembered it being in Two and was mesmerised by the beauty.
Mostly, the moon reminded him of Nanna. Apparently his twin's name meant moon in some deeply buried civilisation in history. Staring at the moon that radiated unnatural beauty, it made him hope more than ever that Nanna was okay. Enki felt guilty not thinking about them the past few months (since the Winter Mocks, really). Though he had tried countless times to justify it as a means to subject his mind to some clarity that'd let him achieve redemption, albeit even he scarcely believed that.
In any case, the moon reminded him of Nanna and just how much he missed him. For the first time in months, Enki allowed himself to miss his twin's company, their brains and logic and how grounded they were. He missed him so much, he at first wondered if the way the moon slowly turned from a pearl white to a deep red was in his own head. A sick way of reminding him just how much he fucked up by abandoning everyone. At the "What the fuck?" and "Are you seeing this? Am I going insane?" from his allies, Enki quickly realised that whatever was happening to the moon was intentional.
Instead of a bright light that allowed for fairly decent vision, the arena was enveloped in red moonlight. The whole place looked unnatural and not in the way the sun had earlier; there was nothing ethereal and idyllic about the arena – all of the Careers (and no doubt the other tributes, if Enki had to guess) stared at the moon, the red swirling and dominating.
Enki shuddered at the colour. For as long as anyone could remember, a blood moon was an old folk tale in District Two that heralded disaster and tragedy. Enki had heard those stories growing up and shot Cleo an uneasy stare, relieved to see worry was contorted onto her face. "What the fuck is this guys…" Ponderosa said, her voice barely audible as if she were afraid something would jump out at her.
"Fuck knows, think we should run?" Finnos looked as if he were already primed to jump on his trident and run into the forest.
Some of the other Careers looked at their packs and away from the fire they had nursed that night. Was hunting such a great idea now? The others, Enki included, looked to Faunus expectedly, wanting the leader to give them guidance on how to move forward.
"We stay put, we're safe here." Even Faunus' voice was devoid of confidence.
Enki bit his lip as anxiety pooled in his stomach. I knew it wouldn't be so easy, he thought sardonically, even though he knew there was nothing easy about the arena. Not a single shred.
The anthem began to play and the familiar Panemian emblem appeared in the centre of the moon. Slowly, across the face of the blood moon, the names and faces of the fallen tributes were projected. Enki had already figured that The Fallen would be more sombring in the arena but seeing their faces painted in a crimson red really added to the guilt that was slowly eating away at him. It was a stark reminder – these children are dead; some of them because of you.
Bissette and Damocles… Gone because of me. As Enki blinked, their faces stared back at him, unrelenting in the torture they gave him and he knew then that, should he survive the whole ordeal, they would be with him for a long time to come afterwards.
The others must've felt the same; a silence settled among them way beyond the sound of the anthem disappeared into the night, replaced by the small movements of the lake's waters. The moon lost its crimson coat quickly, one again returning to the stellar white it was before.
Finnos broke the silence with a quip about how the whole thing they witnessed was really fucked up and would be annoying int he days to come. Enki laughed, finding the boy's humour something easy to focus on as the effects of the announcement rang in his head.
"We better go hunting," Faunus said, clearing his throat and forcing the alliance back into the mindset they needed to be in. They could worry about the effects of the announcement when one of them won – now, they needed to do what they were trained to do. "Tiaran and the Twos are with me – the rest of you guard the Cornucopia. If we've got some fuckers to be weary of, I want the security to be tight. Got it?"
Enki nodded along, busying himself with preparing a light pack with a few supplies and readying his maul. Hearterelle and Molly took offence to being told to stay on guard duty for the first night, clearly anticipating being chosen for the premiere Career scare tactics. Faunus firmly told them – barked at, really – that their skills weren't needed; Hearterelle couldn't provide anything more than Cleopatra could and he outright told Molly she had to prove herself before she could even begin to think about going hunting. That had shut the latter up, she huffed past them all and took sentry at the land strip facing the dunes. From what Enki knew of Hearterelle, he could tell that she wasn't happy either but was content in the treatment of Molly, it tiding her over.
The moonlight didn't shine as brightly as it had done in the open area by the lake. The trees, though sparse, still blocked off enough of it to make the whole place more sinister. Their shadows were cast against the trees in such a way that they didn't even need their weapons to look intimidating or scare tributes off. Cleo had commented on that, believing it was a good premonition for what was to come from their hunt.
Whereas the Cornucopia and the lake had a temperature that felt summerish and not too dissimilar from what they had left in their homes and the Capitol, the forest was cold. The slight frost on the undergrowth gave away that it was meant to be reminiscent of winter. It was jarring; the trees grew as if they were unaffected by the climate – not a single leaf had fallen onto the ground and familiar noises heard in summertime forests echoed from the canopies. Enki was grateful for the small fleece that lined his jacket, though he couldn't help but wish for more as a chill cooled him to the core.
"Fuckin' makers…" Tiaran muttered, rubbing his arms to keep warm. "This some kind of fuckin' zone thing? Certain places have certain temperatures?"
"Trust them not to give up on that shit." Cleo reached in her backpack for a pair of pathetically thin gloves and shoving her hands in them. "Can't just give us a normal time, huh?"
"Think it'll spread?" Enki thought aloud, mind sifting through the possibilities. "What if it comes to the Cornucopia?"
"I hope not, else we're begging our mentors for some nicer sleeping bags." Cleo stifled a laugh at Tiaran's reply. Enki cracked a smile, agreeing wholeheartedly. There was nothing worse than lying in the freezing cold in a thin sleeping bag – he, Theseus and Lynaera had done so and paid the price for days after.
"I don't want any fucking around," Faunus instructed as they came to a small clearing, shutting down what small conversation the other three were having. Their laughter faded, replaced with cocked eyebrows and incredulous stares. Faunus pointed with his axe at what was once a small fire, the embers still orange and sparkling. "We're getting a kill tonight but only if you guys shut the fuck up."
Enki exchanged a look with Cleopatra. He had remembered the deal they made to each on the train ride – they prioritised each other until the final two. It was a relief to remember that and gave Enki something to cling onto with hope. So long as he had Cleo on his side, nothing bad could happen to him, surely.
Coming across the alliance that was supposed to be their big threat in the arena was pitiful, even in Enki's opinion. A once eight strong alliance had been rendered to only three; Hatcher from Eleven, Breccia from Twelve and Threon from Thirteen. The three of them looked like deers caught in headlights as the hunting party bounded into the small clearing they had made their own, each of them grabbing what little supplies they deemed the most important and charging into the woods without second thought.
The Careers, stunned that they had actually come across someone after hours of bored, fruitless walking, reacted just a click too slowly. They chased the alliance incessantly, unrelenting in their goal. The three of them knew that and were just as driven to evade capture. The Careers could only just make out the directions in which they were going, the prey's head start proving to make their hunt harder. Enki could hear Faunus cursing himself for not choosing one of the nimbler Careers to join them on the hunt before barking at Tiaran to begin unleashing spears into the darkness.
"Are you crazy?" Tiaran shouted back, voice exasperated both from running and the instruction itself. "And give some other tribute a weapon? Fuck no. Just keep chasing them!"
Faunus replied with something but Enki was too focused on catching up with the alliance to hear. He and Cleopatra had trailed ahead by some virtue, probably the little extra power their bodies gave them. Their footsteps thundered through the forest, echoing off the trunks of the trees around them. Enki thanked and cursed the Gamemakers for making the trees easy enough to traverse through, giving prey a respite but the predators a challenge.
It didn't take long for the girl from Twelve to slip on the frosted undergrowth, her back slamming against the forest floor. She let out a yelp of pain before pleading with her allies for help. There was a deep fear in her voice – a desperation Enki recognised as her knowing what was likely to come. Her allies ignored her, however, and continued to run off into the darkness. The girl did all she could to bring herself back to her feet and begin to try and run again. Her winded breath failed her, however, and she could only jog at a pained pace.
Tiaran's spear caught up to her first, lodging itself in a shoulder blade. Twelve contorted in pain, howling as much as her lungs could let her. In a matter of seconds, Enki and Cleo crashed down on her; his maul crashing into her face with a resounding thud and Cleo's longsword skewing itself through her chest. Her body crumpled to the ground, her breaths staggering before they came to a slow halt. The cannon in the distance marked her death.
"Nice teamwork guys," Faunus praised, the first genuine smile Enki had seen on his face yet. "With that? We'll get all the fuckin' sponsors!"
Enki smiled along, oddly proud at himself for being part of something bigger. It was heinous – killing the girl who didn't deserve it would repeat itself later in his head to torment him – but he revelled in the thought of making people at home proud; Ellara, Theseus and Lynaera. Not Marida.
The past few days had been a weird mix of uneventful and full of energy. Enki has found it unnerving, figuring that the Gamemakers were planning something big for the finale. He had spent his time on guard duty nursing the thoughts in his head that whirred through all the possibilities it could be. Would they force all of the tributes upwards into one small area and have another bloodbath? Did they want them all to die slowly, one by one? Were they hoping the snideness the Careers showed each other would eventually bubble into something uncontrollable
It freaked Enki out, more than he wanted to admit it did.
On the second day in the arena, Molly got her first kill and boasted about it for hours on end. Her pride couldn't be dampened by the way the Careers lambasted it and groaned – even Enki found it slightly disappointing as he had gotten caught up in the habit of reminding her she was below the rest of them. It was only after she was on the board did he feel guilty for it, worrying if she'd remember them and use it as fuel to kill him. She had a warmer response to him talking to her compared to some of the others so, if all things went to plan, he'd be safe from a knife to the back of the head.
He had guarded the Cornucopia on the second night alongside Hearterelle and Finnos. Since the training days, the three of them had sought opportunities to be alone together and found solace in being able to for the night. They told stories from back home, the two of them making Enki laugh more than he had done in a while. He, in turn, told them small parts of his life; that he came from a small village in Two (he couldn't bring himself to say the name of it, instead disguising it as something it wasn't) and how he joined training late. They commended him on his skills before they turned the conversation to analysing their alliance.
What had started as identifying the main threats (Faunus and Cleo) turned into the three of them making a smash or pass list of the allies. Enki had found out that he had made a greater impression in the Capitol than he had expected and that Finnos shared his sentiment in finding the other nice to look at. He had spent the rest of the night with a rose heat on his cheeks, smiling as if he wasn't in the arena. Finnos smiled too, which made the night even better.
Yesterday had been particularly difficult. Between not being able to find any tributes to hunt and supplies being stolen as Tiaran and Molly were on guard duty, little was achieved and tensions continued to deteriorate. It didn't help that the hunting team of six came back agitated that they hadn't managed to get a kill (nobody counted Molly's kill if they had to) and the confession from the sentries had only tipped things over the edge. Enki remembered how apprehensive he was to side with Faunus, only doing so when Cleo reminded him quietly that they needed to survive till the end.
"Can you not be so fucking worthless for one day?" Faunus had shouted at her, wanting to do something further but showing restraint. "Keepers you are the shittiest Career in years. I fuckin' hope the next time the bandits come and steal from us they take you out with them. It'd save us the trouble."
The words were harsh but Molly hadn't reacted. Instead, she declared she'd be going fishing and would see them later. Finnos (bless the boy's heart of gold) had to run after her, just to make sure she didn't abandon them.
Later in the day, before Molly could return, the lake began to rise and forced the Careers to higher ground. Enki hated how panicked they all were, it taking him back to the fateful day at The Sanctuary where the Peacekeepers had stormed in, arresting or executing anyone they could. In that sense, Enki hated the arena. It had barely been three days at that point and already some of the deepest repressed memories of his had reared their ugly heads once more, forcing him to think about them.
Enki didn't remember much of the actual migration from the lake. He barely registered Molly and Finnos running back in a panic, slinging their backs on and carrying whatever they could away from the sinking central island. He could only listen to Cleo's instructions and follow them the best he could, the noise ringing in his head dominating too much of anything. His vision had blurred with some of the memories and, if he wasn't too careful to blink, he almost confused some of the worn woodland trails in the arena with some of the paths that littered his old home. He barely even realised that an argument had broken out on where to go, instead blindly following Cleopatra in whatever she chose. Enki had later found out (through talking to Hearterelle) that he, Cleo and the Fours had voted for one of the forest areas on the basis that it would be more cover. The Ones and Sevens, however, had tried to advocate for the mountains. In an interest of neutrality, the eight of them found themselves at the edge of the denser forest. They didn't dare go in more, mostly because the thing was freezing and no doubt full of cryptids the Gamemakers thought of in their sleep.
Enki decided that the third day had thoroughly sucked.
Last night hadn't been any better either; their supplies had been stolen again under Molly and Tiaran's noses. Faunus had become angrier, accusing the two of them of plotting with some of the other tributes ("degenerates," he had called them). Both vehemently denied it and Tiaran was only able to save his skin by putting the blame on Molly. Enki spent another night wincing at the words Faunus had said to her and worrying if she would remember that he had agreed with them outwardly.
Then there were the wolven mutts. Creatures far too sinister to be of natural origin, the wolves were larger and more ferocious than anything any of the Careers had experienced before. Even he and Cleo had commented after the fact that they seemed even worse than the mountain wolves back home in Two whose violent reputation transcended the district's borders. The ambush was so out of the blue that they had to abandon most of their supplies, only picking up their weapons to try and thin the pack down. They were a nuisance to lose too; every time the Careers thought they had lost them and took a break to plan their next steps, the wolves reappeared and chased them further into the dense forest. It was only after Molly got a particularly nasty bite on her dominant arm and Hearterelle killed the alpha did the mutts relent.
The Careers (bar Enki and Finnos, who took his side) were jovial at the only injury being on Molly.
"Looks like even the mutts think you gotta go," Ponderosa had said between laughs. "Maybe it's a sign from the Makers we need to off you."
They didn't, mostly because Finnos protested that Molly was still their best swimmer and that was something they needed now given the lake had been flooded. Enki noticed that few wanted to admit that Molly had a greater sense of purpose in the alliance than before but they gave in and agreed with varying levels of annoyance. Molly was practically in serendipity at Faunus admitting she was needed.
The fourth day wasn't as bad, if not uneventful. They had spent the better part of the day retracing their steps back to their supplies and were relieved to see that nothing of great value had been stolen. Some packs of god awful dried fruit had disappeared and Enki noticed that a few of Tiaran's spears had gone but, for the most part, the alliance had been able to keep a monopoly over the arena's supplies. They had spent the time in the afternoon sun tending to any injuries and ailments they had; Molly needed obvious bandages but most of them had scraped their shins when running from the mutts. Enki had forgone that, instead having a nasty bruise on his cheek from where a branch had swung back after being shoved out of the way to aid their escape. The gifts from the sponsors helped, however, and it took little time to restore the good energy the Careers had been thriving off of earlier on. Even Molly seemed to feel a little happier as she joined in with their conversations.
Enki had smiled at that, glad that the alliance seemed to be holding strong. It made the prospect of going hunting more enticing. As he always did, Faunus decided the hunters and the sentries, choosing Enki, Hearterelle, Tiaran and Molly to go.
"I can't go!" Molly protested, motioning to her arm that was still bandaged. "My arm is still injured, motherfucker!"
Faunus looked her up and down, narrowing his eyes at her injury. "I'm the leader of this pack and I say you're going hunting – go and grab your things, you're leaving now."
A silence settled across the pack as the two stared at each other, both unrelenting in their defence. It was only when Hearterelle complained about her, Tiaran and Enki having to wait that Molly began to move.
When she was out of earshot, the girl from One turned to Faunus. "You sure she won't be a liability with her injury?"
The boy shrugged. "If she's too weak to survive, I'm sure we won't be any less deadly than we are now."
Enki saw the look he gave her and understood what it meant; if something were to happen to the girl, nothing would be held over their heads. If Enki had to wager, he suspected they'd be praised for it.
The group of four decided to go to the base of the mountain, sure that if any tribute were hiding among the forests they would've come across some evidence of them by now. Surrounding the base of the mountain were a few trees, sparse coverings as the landscape transitioned from woodland to wharfs of rock and limestone. If the look of the mountain from afar hadn't reminded Enki of District Two before then now, being among it, he was sorely reminded of his home – both District Two and The Sanctuary. It was bittersweet but he allowed himself a minute to appreciate the landscape.
It made him want to fight to get back home even more.
"And then I caught the bastard trying to sneak back into the camp! Idiot didn't know what hit him when he had a trident through the neck" Finnos laughed as he retold the story, miming the actions of skewing someone's head on his trident. It had all been a ploy to move away from Faunus incessantly mocking Molly's death still from the night before. She had, as he had hoped, failed to run from the ambush that Hatcher and Threon had been able to set up on them and was sacrificed to make a get away.
Enki was sure her screams for help and then damnation of them would be replayed in his head for nights to come.
Had it not been for the fact that Threon, the boy from Thirteen, had been making their lives hell by constantly stealing their supplies, Enki knew he'd be more disgusted by the talk Finnos was encouraging. Instead, he found himself relieved that a nuisance was gone (it also helped that it was Finnos who had done it; the only one of the other guys that remotely interested him).
The Careers caught the girl from Five before she could even notice them. She was hanging around the outskirts of their makeshift camp, using the trees for cover as she tried to decipher what the Careers had that was still of use to her. Tiaran had, of course, blown whatever advantage they had over the girl by making snide remarks about leeching off the success of others, causing her to bolt deeper into the woods. Reeling off of a few days where few kills had been had, they jumped into action and pursued her deeper. Enki followed, knowing from Molly that anything less would be considered due suspicion for aiding the girl.
His eyes glossed over as he carried out what he knew he needed to do. He collapsed on the girl, bringing her to the ground. For the first time since the chariot rides, Enki used his sheer height over the other tributes to his advantage; the girl was unable to get up and overpower him, thrashing under his weight. Unwilling to compromise the position with trying to search for his maul – something in Enki's head nagged at him that doing so would give her an ample opportunity to escape – he did the next best thing (and the thing that was the least bloody) and clamped his hands around her neck.
Instinct (or forced, Career mentality) took over, enough that Enki barely remembered it. He remembered feeling his hands tighten around her neck and her struggle getting more panicked by the second. She had tried to scream for help, only to have the other Careers appear and tell her to silence herself or else they'd make it worse. Enki didn't want them to make it worse – Keepers, he didn't want to be strangling her – but they persisted.
He didn't know how long it took for her to die, only registering that her cannon had gone off after Finnos pulled him away. Feeling how limp she was under his grip chilled Enki to the core and he decided immediately that he couldn't kill using his hands again.
A murderer's pair of hands…
Though they had only come to the eastern side of the arena last night, the alliance quickly decided they had no interest in staying among the sand dunes longer than absolutely necessary. Enki was glad; the night's sleep had been rough and he was almost certain he'd never get rid of some of the sand in his shoes and various parts of his body. The hunts hadn't been successful either; Faunus had tried to use the cover of the night to find tributes trying to sleep, certain that they'd be unable to given the unpredictable landscape of the arena (Finnos had tried to argue that Faunus had never seen dunes before and that was bullshit, but was shut down regardless). Now, in the morning, they were trudging back the way they had come.
With the mountain range being the last area of the arena they had yet to explore proper, the alliance slowly made their way towards the rocky outcrops. Some of the Careers had bemoaned the idea but Enki was happy with it. It'd be nice to be among a landscape that was more recognisable to what he was used to and, with any luck, he could continue to prove to the other Careers why he was such a valuable asset (he had spent far too much time in the arena wondering if he had aptly done so already, much to the lack of sleep).
What they hadn't expected was how cold the area was. Yesterday, when they first traversed the dunes, it had been hot and sweltering with Finnos remarking it reminded him of District Four. Now, in the morning, there was a cold edge to the air and Enki could've sworn he saw some snow falling in the distance.
So much for a calm, easy time with the climate then.
"Fucking Makers…" Faunus' pace had slugged, all of them feeling the effects of the cold, harsh wind. "You'd think the dunes of all places would be warm."
"That's why it's not," Cleo quipped back, sighing. "Gotta fuck us over again and again."
The boy from Seven grumbled something in reply but Enki scarcely heard it.
They had been walking for a few hours, the cold slowing them down significantly. It wasn't something Enki wasn't used to – in fact, he'd wager it was the same temperature it was during the Winter Mocks — but the pace of the others meant he had to go slow. He didn't mind – he adapted – but he could only worry about the Capitol seeing it as poor entertainment. Trainers at the Academy had told them stories about what the Gamemakers would do if Careers failed to provide the ample entertainment they needed, the worst of which being mutts or sabotage within the group. After the wolf mutts earlier on in the arena and the constant arguing at the hands of Molly, Enki was certain he didn't want either to happen.
"We're nearly out of it," He said, optimism coming through. It was times like that where he thanked his overwhelming need to please those around him, being able to morph into what they wanted at that moment. That, paired with the confident and charismatic mask he had worn rigidly since the reaping, Enki had become something of a motivator for the group. "Just a mile or so more and then we'll be out of the cold."
Some of the Careers behind him groaned but were cut off by Hearterelle's screams. The alliance turned around to see Hearterelle, who had lagged behind slightly, thrashing on the floor. Without much of a second thought, Enki rushed to her side, followed closely by Cleo and Finnos.
One of her legs had been caught in a bear trap whose jaws seemed much sharper than any Enki had seen before. The serrated points had cut deep into her shins with lacerations littering above and below the trap's snap. The faint whirr of electricity told Enki that the trap was far more deadly than any of the other traps they had seen so far (if the way Hearterelle's body continued to thrash around didn't give that away already). It was clear that whoever made the trap – Gamemaker or tribute – had intended for it to kill its victim painfully.
Hearterelle continued to make choked sobs of pain, though they became laboured by the second and were jittered as electrical pulses continued to incessantly wreck her body. Daring not to touch her, Enki tried to reassure her, doubting she could hear him.
"You're gonna be fine, just try not to panic," He said, aware of the lie he was feeding to her. Even if she hadn't continued to thrash, the trap was so deep that the girl would have to forgo her leg and that made her a sitting duck for mutts and non-Careers alike but an easy display of dominance for her allies. Yet, despite that, Enki still wanted to give her hope. Much like she had reassured him through training that his skills were fine (not that he doubted them, but she was the type to compliment), Enki wanted nothing more than to assure her things were fine. Cleo and Finnos joined in too – scouring her body for a way to make the pain stop.
It was futile, they all knew that but Enki was resolute in trying to make the last few moments of her life not as bad as they could be. The Sevens sighed in annoyance somewhere behind him but he ignored them. He, Cleo and Finnos kept talking to Hearterelle until her body stopped convulsing. They kept talking to her, trying to make her laugh until she couldn't bring herself to talk and they still spoke to her until she took her last breath and her cannon sounded out.
Enki's heart ached, pain swelling at the death of someone he had come to consider a friend.
The atmosphere of the seventh night was different than any of the others – and that was excluding the fact that the leader of the Careers had died. Nobody said anything as Faunus' face flashed over the moon, scowling eyes boring into the remaining four Careers, his scathing words echoing in their heads. He had forced them to stay as he went to The Feast, eager to betray them all, and he paid the price for it. Enki felt awkward, certain that the other three Careers were thinking of ways to kill him (even Finnos and Cleo, much to his own displeasure). He could only assume it was fitting that he, as Faunus' successor, would be subjected to such worries.
"So, um." Ponderosa cleared her throat, bringing the attention from the moon back to the arena proper. "I think it might be a good time to split."
Enki furrowed his eyebrows. The splitting of the Careers was always inevitable, simply a question of when, not if. He had naively assumed, since the deaths of Molly and Faunus, that the remaining four would be able to continue on until the very end. Clearly he was wrong, as it seemed the final six was too small for a Career alliance of four.
"You think?" Finnos asked the question for him. There was no fear in the boy's voice and, if anything, it sounded as if he were interrogating her. "Not worth us four hunting the final two down?"
"I just… I just don't think it'd end well that way." Ponderosa bit her lip, shrugging. "Now that Faunus is gone, we can end the alliance on good terms – not worry about one of us killing the others, y'know?"
The fire crackled in the darkness, the last the Careers would make together. Enki felt oddly sad about it, as if the seven other tributes had been a shit, prototype of a found family. In some ways they were – Finnos, Hearterelle and Cleo had helped him in ways he couldn't imagine. Without them, Enki had doubts on if he would've endured as much as he had in the arena. What Ponderosa said made sense, however. The split was always inevitable and all of them seemed to possess enough trust in each other to make it amicable. He liked that – made it feel like he wasn't still in the arena where killing was synonymous with survival.
"It'd probably be for the best," Cleo agreed with a solemn hum. She too had become dependent on the alliance to keep her sane and focused, choosing their advice over the few nuggets her sister would try and send through sponsors. "Better we do it liking each other."
"Enki?"
Finnos turned to face him, eyes scanning his face looking for any indication on where Enki would fall. Truth be told, Enki wanted either both of the options or neither; he had become reliant on the three other Careers in different ways and the thought of losing the support they provided scared him. On the other hand, if they stuck it out until the final four then it left his fate far too comfortably in the hands of the Odds. He chewed his lip, not knowing which was the better option. Decisiveness was never his strong suit, it being a reason why he never vied for control over the pack like Tiaran had done. Looking back, Enki was glad he had relented to Faunus early on – it seemed to make him immune to the tribute's outbursts (Enki told himself he wouldn't care if he was, but even he doubted that severely).
"I… –" He glanced at the three faces staring back at him, each looking expectedly for his approval on their opinion. It felt weird being depended on again; Enki didn't hate it, but it reminded him too much of the younger kids at The Sanctuary who looked up to him.
The same kids I let down.
" – I think it's probably best that we separate now. More supplies that way and we can hope Hatcher and Chantilly get to the others before we do."
He saw Finnos' body deflate slightly, disappointment unmistakable marring his otherwise enjoyable-to-look-at features. A tinge of guilt stung at Enki's heart, not wanting to make one of the only people in the arena who liked him genuinely feel bad for their opinion. What about Cleo? He told himself quickly, not wanting to face just how attached he was to the boy. You can't go against her. Remember your pact.
It didn't take long for the Careers to divide what little supplies they had left among the four of them. Sponsors had become scarce (probably due to the cost, if Enki had to guess) and all of them were far hungrier than the little food they had could satiate. It sucked, but Enki had no doubt in his head that they all realised that the end of the Games were only mere days away. They gave each other words of encouragement before they left, each sincerely wishing that the two non-Careers dealt with them first so they wouldn't have to. Enki found it hard to hug Cleo goodbye, half hoping he wouldn't see her again because he knew just how hard she'd fight if they were the final two.
Ponderosa left first, scaling down the mountainside and into the dense forest. It was no surprise as to why she did; she had been itching to get into the canopies since the very beginning, stopped only by Faunus insisting it was a useless strategy. Enki wouldn't blame her for just wanting to do it to spite her district partner's memory. Besides, they had all said they wanted to die where they were most comfortable if the Makers kept forcing the volcano on them. Cleo left next, giving Enki a particularly hard squeeze as they hugged. She whispered about their pact they made before scaling towards the lake. Enki could only presume she had hoped to stay near the water and poach either Hatcher or Chantilly as they sought water. It was a smart move (the smartest of all their plans, really) and one that summarised her to a T.
"Can we… can we still be together?" Enki knew he sounded like a little kid, scared of their parents saying no. It wasn't too far from the truth; he had grown attached to Finnos' company to let it go so suddenly. In that moment, Enki didn't care about what the odds were that Finnos would have to kill him to win. Instead, he thought of the way that the boy made him laugh and made him feel as if there was nothing wrong with him. He remembered the conversations they had on the balcony during the training days, where Enki told him little parts of his past and Finnos listened with fascination.
He even remembered the kiss Finnos gave him when they were on guard duty together, the fluttering of his heart still there as if it were yesterday.
Simply put, Enki wasn't ready to let go of one of the best things to happen to him in the arena.
"I kinda hoped that was a given," Finnos replied with a laugh, immediately taking Enki's hand and pulling him in for a tight hug. A warm hug – a safe hug.
The mutt attacked before they had a chance to react properly. No sooner had Cleo disappeared from their sight did the crazed beast appear. Larger in stature, Enki could only notice the extra horns it bore and the uncanny resemblance its coat had to the moon – shimmering from pearl to crimson as it moved – before he and Finnos had lept into action. It was ferocious, charging at them repeatedly, unrelenting in its goal. It charged again and again, its hooves thundering against the silence of the night.
Enki could feel it in the depths of his stomach; they were the sound of death.
It all happened so fast – too fast for Enki's brain to keep up with it. The sound of thundering hooves behind him, the way Finnos pushed him out of the way and then the boy's howl of pain as some of the bull's horns pierced through his body.
Enki saw red for a little bit, thrashing wildly with his maul until the mutt was well and truly dead; its blood splattering across the outcroppings of limestone and other rocks he couldn't identify. His brain tried to remind him it looked similar to Arkur's brains across the walls of the houses, but Enki shut it needed him – he was already on the floor, breaths staggering in ways that gave away what his fate was (Enki wouldn't believe it – he couldn't).
"I - please… Enki, you gotta kill me," Finnos said, voice breaking because of the pain. "Get the kill under your belt – more powerful to the sponsors then."
Enki bit back tears as he shook his head, hand still squeezing Finnos' as if it would reverse it all. "I… I can't – I won't…" He didn't want to use his maul on Finnos – it wasn't right for his life to end that way (but bleeding out was?).
The boy laughed before coughing in pain, using what little energy he had left to lean up and plant a kiss squarely on Enki's cheek. "Then you better fuckin' win this thing," He said with a sigh, unable to support himself on his elbows anymore. "Get that atonement and show them all they're fuckin' wrong about you."
Enki smiled back at him but knew in his heart that Finnos was wrong. How could Enki find atonement if nothing changed? He couldn't do things to save the ones he loved back then and, some few years later with all the training in the world hardening him to kill, he still couldn't do what people close to him needed the most.
Finnos' cannon was sombre, reminding Enki that he'd always be alone and unable to protect the ones he cared about.
Enki's limbs were annoyed at the Gamemakers; each step he took made his legs feel even more on fire than they already were. Ascending a mountain was a difficult affair at the best of times, let alone after seven days in the arena where every sunrise seemed to offer its own set of gruelling challenges. Enki grit his teeth and persevered, however, taking solace in being a part of the final six tributes – surely the Games would conclude soon. In the distance, some ways up the path he was on, he saw looming shadows and hoped to find some refuge and take a break to allow his muscles to stop being so angry with him.
The morning sun cast an eerie glow as Enki reached the plateau, the shadows casted stretching like spectres across the desolate outcropping. His heart, still pounding in his chest from the brutal uphill hike, sank as he gazed at the decaying remnants of what was supposed to be a village – his village. The Sanctuary.
He tried to trick himself into thinking it was a coincidence. Plenty of arenas had abandoned villages that served as spaces for tributes to hide – it was only a weird stroke of luck that his arena's abandoned settlement was nestled in the mountains, just like his former home was. His mind, however, was resolute and he remembered what the trainers at the Academy always said – everything in the arena happened for a reason; everything was meticulously planned out and everything had an intention.
Enki's thoughts were loud again, pounding in his head so loud he couldn't hear anything else. He hated it – Keepers, he hated it. The village was unmistakably made after his home; the way the bricks had been lain messily but with love, the way each house was close to one another in the same steel colour the rocks of Two were known for. The hopeful part of his brain wanted to believe this meant more of the people from home had survived the massacre, that he wasn't the only one who hadn't been avoxed or executed.
Maybe Nanna's alive…
The thought of his twin choked Enki up, tears ready to pool from his eyes and sobs bubbling in his throat. His mind involuntarily replayed the horrific scenes of that day – the cries of the mothers for the children to run, the battlecries of those who were prepared to die for The Sanctuary and, of course, the echoes made when their lifeless bodies hit the floor. Enki even remembered how it all got quieter as he ran through the tunnel, escaping it all and abandoning his community to die.
Tears filled Enki's eyes as he ran through the streets. The smell of smoke and sulphur filled his nose, the sound of guns and screams bombarding his ears. His fingers clutched the handle of the rudimentary war hammer Arkur had made for him, unable to bring himself to use it then and couldn't use it now. Its steel would remain untainted by the bloodshed whilst its brothers and sisters fought to protect The Sanctuary.
They called his name. Begged for his help. Pleaded with him to stay and fight for their home, just like he had been trained to do.
But he ignored them. He abandoned them. Saved himself because he was too much of a coward to stand up for what he believed in. Instead, he'd rather see the brains of his beloved mentor, Arkur, splattered against the walls of the building they called the gym. He would rather see those close to him suffer for a chance to save himself.
Enki tried to argue against that, but he couldn't. He was selfish and he knew it.
That was why he held his hands, ready for execution, as the Peacekeepers surrounded him. He didn't care that his sobs drained out all of his thoughts, every emotion he had being poured into them and leaving him empty. He expected – wanted – them to kill him, just as he deserved.
Instead, they let him live and Enki had hated himself ever since.
The tears fell from his eyes as he walked through the desolate streets, the mask of the charismatic Career long since abandoned. The memories – the happy memories – of his childhood played out like a haunted melody, a symphony of pain and regret. The only house in the small settlement that hadn't been destroyed was one that looked too similar to the one he and Nanna had grown up in; where the other buildings' roofs had collapsed, this one remained intact and was littered with the same drawings he and his twin had done when they were their very youngest.
His shoulders slumped, and he fell to his knees, allowing the pain and sorrow he had locked away for the past few years overwhelm him. Today could be lost – the past had forcefully grabbed his attention.
Maybe he didn't need to win the Hunger Games.
Perhaps true atonement was allowing himself to be brutally murdered in repentance.
Enki didn't remember when the girl from Eight, Chantilly, had wandered across him but he knew he hadn't tried to scare her away. He had raised his maul in a desperate attempt to make her go away, threatening her with it but she persisted. Though she said little, it was clear that she had no interest in fighting and instead wanted to find some mutual benefit in coming across one another.
All it had taken for him to lower his weapon (and nearly cry again, if he were honest) was her simply asking him if he wanted help. That broke him more than anything the Gamemakers could throw at him and, for the first time in years, he let his Career facade shatter before someone. He nodded silently as silent tears fell from his eyes. Chantilly didn't say much, she simply made her way over and comforted him the best she could.
The smell of sulphur woke Enki from what little sleep he had been able to get. It singed the inside of his nose, forcing him to cough to try and expel it from his system. He glanced over to where Chantilly had been sleeping but found it devoid of anyone. Part of him felt hurt – yet another potential friend has left him – but he understood it. At this point of the Games, the final five, they couldn't afford to have friends. A cannon had gone off later in the night and Enki found himself hoping it wasn't her's.
The ground rumbled and Enki looked to the largest mountain. Smoke billowed from the top, notifying Enki that the Gamemakers intended for him to move. Vaguely, in his head, he remembered the advice they had been given the first time it erupted. His body protested the idea of scaling a mountain but, in the interest of not dying, Enki fought against it.
He took only a small pack of food and his maul, leaving everything else where it was. He had seen enough of the Games to understand that they were being corralled into a space for the finale. The thought made Enki's stomach lurch, realising that the end was in sight. With a shake of his head and slinging the oxygen filter Ellara had sponsored him, Enki forced himself to think of the positive; he was so close to being home. A cannon sounded in the distance, bringing the number of tributes down to three. That motivated Enki more than he expected it to, bringing his pace from a slow walk to a job.
With his limbs burning, Enki began the descent up the mountain, bracing himself for the finale fight he was sure would be promised to Panem.
He heard the sound of metal against metal before he pulled himself up onto the plateau. It echoed down the small valley, guiding him like a siren's song to the final place he'd be in the arena, one way or another. He had, briefly, considered running back down the valley and to the lake, hoping that the volcano's imminent eruption would kill whoever was there and give him an easier victory. Enki scoffed at himself quickly, knowing no such thing would happen.
In the centre of the small outcropping, Cleo and Hatcher were fighting each other, neither relenting in their assault. Just from knowing her, Enki could see that Cleo was getting tired; her stance was sloppier and her reflexes were withering away. There was still her usual ferocity that told Enki that she hadn't given up yet, which was both a good and bad thing.
Good, because she'd likely kill Hatcher which meant he had one less teen to murder but bad because it also meant she'd be a bitch to kill himself. Enki had dreaded from the moment he and Cleo had been announced as the designated volunteers, a scenario wherein they had to fight each other. He had hoped that someone else would've gotten to her but, as ever kind as the Keepers were, it looked like a District Two final showdown was in store.
Cleo's face perked up, adding to the anxiety Enki felt about knowing what came after Hatcher's death. "Enki!" Keepers, even her voice is excited.
Hatcher glared at him, using his might to push Cleo away and take a few steps back himself. "I gotta go against both of you fuckers? Fuck this shit."
Without much talk, months of training together sprung into action. Whatever fire and pain Enki had felt in his limbs as he climbed his way up to the plateau had vanished, energy renewed with the realisation (and joy, really) that he could work as a team with Cleo once more. As he raised his maul, Cleo readied her sword for a combination they had used multiple times in the Academy to take people down – something they had practised to the finest detail.
A machine, perfected to kill.
It worked on Hatcher the same way it had to everyone else – he was hit by both and stumbled to the floor – but the boy was resolute. He cursed, spitting and mentioning something about not giving up easily before he staggered to his feet. With his own sword raised, he charged at Enki who still reeled from the force he had in his swing.
Enki braced himself for a sword somewhere vital, expecting to be reunited with Finnos once more (and, hopefully, Arkur and his mother. Not Nanna, because that implied the worst). Instead, a searing pain burst through his shoulder, Hatcher's blade connecting there instead. Clutching the wound the best he could (which wasn't that good, given he still needed to swing his maul), Enki worked hard to ensure that Hatcher was dead.
He felt numb, knowing it was the first kill he had wanted to commit in penance for a grave injury. Pain continued to sear through his side as the blood flowed and Enki could feel the blood pumping around his body, the acute awareness unnerving him.
"I knew we'd be the final two."
Cleo's words tore him away from the pain and he looked at her with a tired smile. He briefly considered dropping the Career act like he had done with Finnos but decided against it. He had trained with Cleo long enough to know that she'd utilise it as a weakness against him – she wasn't stupid.
"Kinda hoped it would be," Enki lied, still smiling at her. He didn't want to tell her that he hoped someone else would've gotten to her first. If he had to bet, she was probably hiding the same sentiment.
"May the best one win, yeah?"
Enki nodded, gritting his teeth and he forced himself to ignore the pain that ripped through his shoulder. "Definitely."
The clashes of their weapons against each other replaced the symphony of Cleo and Hatcher's. Once upon a time, Enki had lamented to Marida that it was hard to block a sword with a war hammer, mentioning that his maul was too cumbersome to retaliate. She had told him he was seeing it wrong (spoke down to him, Enki realised the more time he spent away from her and heard about the other Careers' lives) and showed him how to block, mentioning that people without guns bested the Peacekeepers more often than people thought.
It was gruelling and the incessant, loud noise in Enki's head failed to help at all. It took everything for him to parry her lunges the best he could – to stop out of the way and partake in the grand dance they were doing, all because his head wouldn't shut up.
A million thoughts raced through his mind, all telling him to do different things.
Hit her hard in the chest. No, the stomach. Just fucking kill her. Maybe I should die instead. Hit her head. Knock her over. Just. Fucking. Kill. Her. Don't be pathetic.
It took a lot for Enki not to scream out and all the thoughts became panicked as Cleo slashed his nose, the pain seering deep and taking away from his shoulder as the blood went into his eyes as his head recoiled backwards.
The next moments were a blur for him. He only remembered charging, launching himself to the ground with Cleo in tow and her congratulating him with an earnest sound to her voice.
Then, he brought his maul down on her. Again, and again, and again. Until the cannon boomed, and the voice of Parthenos Rosaroe, the bejewlelled Master of Ceremonies, shattered the arena's silence.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the Victor of the One-Hundredth and Fourth Annual Hunger Games! Enki Lamack, from District Two!"
It was fucked and made Enki sick to his stomach, guilt gnawing mercilessly; he couldn't fight for the home he believed in - couldn't fight for the family he now yearned for nor the ideals he held close to his chest - yet he could, had, and would have to continue, to fight for the ideals of the Panem he had been hidden from for so long. His blood was now ichored as a Victor, all at the expense of one of the people who had been the kindest to him.
But the atonement he was promised was worth it, right?