Becky Sloan, 18

District 1 Female

I was still seething from my confrontation with Taffeta. The little upstart thought she was so great, being Don's little plaything. They spent every spare moment snuggled together and making eyes at each other. It was disgusting. She wasn't anything special. She wasn't even that attractive!

If Don wasn't so attached to her I'd kill her where she stood. I was strong enough to do it. I was the best District 1 had to offer and I wasn't going to let the high and mighty 2s or cool 4s win. Even Aurelius didn't stand a chance against me. I wasn't even sure why they chose that overconfident peacock to volunteer.

I deserve to win, I thought as I followed Crash and Lotus through the woods. I've trained harder than anyone else. I spent countless nights at the Academy, tearing apart dummies and lifting weights and running on the track. I was the first to arrive and the last one to leave. I dedicated my life to the Hunger Games.

Sometimes I wondered who I'd be if I didn't train. Would my parents let me write? Would I be able to publish a book of poetry, like I dreamed of when I was a kid? At night I allowed myself to wonder, but the arena was no place for hopes and dreams.

Crash and Lotus were chattering away, as usual. Crash seemed incapable of staying quiet. And xey were far too friendly for my taste. We weren't friends. And we were only allies because it was advantageous. I would tolerate xeir endless social energy, but when it was time for the Pack to split I would show no mercy.

We needed to find another tribute soon or the Pack would fracture earlier than we wanted. I could tell Artemis was thirsting for blood and Don was getting antsy from our lack of success with hunting. The mist made it hard to see and the dry, brittle grass didn't leave behind any tracks. And if I didn't sink my sword into somebody soon… it wouldn't end prettily for my allies.

Every one of them drove me nuts. Artemis was the only one I didn't hate, but I knew not to put my trust in her. Still, having a dependable partner when the split came wasn't necessarily a bad idea. But Artemis was loyal. My gut told me she'd support Don purely out of district loyalty. That left Aurelius as my only option.

I did not want to put my faith into a pampered little rich boy. But I wasn't naive enough to think my allies didn't want to kill me as badly as I wanted to kill them. And even if I had Aurelius to watch my back, I could always stab him in his later on. Killing your district partner wasn't exactly approved of, but if I made it interesting enough people would forget.

My mind was made up. I would talk to Aurelius tonight. Now we just had to find somebody.

Kairos Nakamura, 15

District 3 Male

Birch was an odd duck, as my uncle would say. He was steadfast and fierce, but there was a sadness to him. I wasn't sure what he'd been through, but I couldn't imagine it was easy. The scar around his throat was evidence enough.

I also didn't know how rebellious he really was. Allying with him could be dangerous, but I'd made my choice when I rescued him in the bloodbath, and when I revealed my insider knowledge about the arena. It was possible the Gamemakers heard me telling Birch, but even if they did, I was sure they censored it.

Birch seemed to be plagued by nightmares. He kept saying the names 'Brancher' and 'Raskul', and I remembered him asking about Vermeer Versailles during training. And then there was the man he shouted at during training. From what I could put together, he'd been forced out of his home and his father had been killed by the Capitol.

He was exactly the kind of person my uncle would say we were fighting for. Maybe some of his rebellious spirit was still with me, or maybe I was just stupider than I thought. But if Birch was brave enough to push back against the Capitol, even while in the arena, maybe I was too.

"Can I ask you something?" Birch asked, looking up from the stick he was sharpening. We'd spent the last few days in a clearing full of overgrown grass with a fallen pine through it. Birch had been breaking off branches and whittling them to pass the time. I'd organized our supplies at least seven times by now.

"Sure," I said, turning to face him. "What's up?"

"What inspired your… hobbies?" I immediately caught onto what he was asking and carefully considered my response.

"My uncle did," I told him. "He passed away when I was 13."

"I'm sorry," Birch said. "I've lost people too."

He threw his sharpened stick into the ground, where it stuck.

"It makes me want to kill them," he said. "Every single one of them. The Capitol, the Career districts, and anyone who doesn't fight back."

"Not everyone can fight back," I whispered, suddenly wary. There was a dangerous light in Birch's eyes.

"You're right. They're too cowardly. And they're part of the problem. If you're not willing to snuff out the Capitol, you might as well die with them."

"That's not true!" I gasped. "All people have value. Some people are misguided, and some people really are bad. But no one deserves to die."

"Yes," Birch growled. He locked eyes with me. "They do."

With a strength I didn't know he had, Birch lunged at me. I fell back into the grass as he stabbed the knife downwards. I frantically caught his wrist and then hooked my leg behind him. As he fought to pull his hand free, I dug my heel into his wounded calf.

Birch cried out and I used the opportunity to knock the knife out of his hand. It fell into the grass beside us and I reached for it, but Birch dug his elbow into my throat. I reached up and raked my nails across his face.

"You're just as bad as they are!" he shouted. I saw him grab the knife out of the corner of my eye. "Panemian Power means the Capitol dies. It means the Career districts die!" He drove the knife down and I whimpered when it pierced my chest. Over and over he stabbed, and I let him. I didn't have the strength to fight back.

But I had to say something. My uncle would want me to. My friends would want me to.

"No," I croaked. "Panemian Power means power to everyone. You're wrong."

Then I closed my eyes as Birch screamed in rage and brought the knife down one final time.

Arawn Giedroyc, 18

District 12 Male

The arena reminded me of home. The mist, the cold, the crows, the pines… and the graves. They were everywhere in this part of the forest. Every few minutes I'd stumble upon another cluster. Some had names, but some were so old and worn they remained anonymous.

Warmth was a pressing issue. For two nights now I'd huddled up beneath a tree, tucked my hands into my pockets, and tried to sleep. Cold, as well as fear of the Careers kept me from getting any decent rest. My mind was frantic with thoughts of survival.

Now that morning had come, I had to keep moving. I wanted to get as far from the Cornucopia as I could. Hopefully the distance, combined with the mist, meant that the Careers wouldn't be able to find me.

I picked blackberries as I walked. They were abundant in this section of the arena, but I had yet to find water and the bottle I got in the bloodbath was getting worryingly light.

I wondered what my mom and Rhonna were doing back at home. They couldn't afford to live if Rhonna didn't work, but my mom was probably huddled by the old television, watching with bated breath.

The mist was growing thicker and thicker. I could only see a few feet in front of me and I clutched my metal bottle tightly, ready to swing it if I needed to. But everything was completely silent. Even the crows were gone.

I gasped as my foot hit stone. Beneath me, the terrain changed from patchy grass to broken cobblestones. A road, barely visible through the fog, stretched out into the trees.

This has to be a trap, I thought. I'll just turn back the other way. Hidden paths in the woods couldn't lead to anything good, especially in the arena. And it would be too easy for the Careers to just follow it.

But what if they didn't? What if they thought what every other tribute thought? That the road was too obvious a trail to follow. I could be safe purely because I took the simple path.

I was still unsure, but my body seemed on board with the plan. Before I could talk myself out of it I stepped fully onto the stone roadway. The cobblestones were rough and stuck up in places, so I had to go slow to avoid tripping.

Two small points of light appeared in the distance and I froze in fear. They were up ahead and to the left of where I stood, but didn't seem to be getting bigger. I waited, almost breathless, for several moments but they didn't move. So I began to creep forward, brandishing my water bottle like a club.

The road curved toward the light, widening as it did. I followed it right up to a metal gate, which closed off a driveway made of the same cobblestones. A large manor made of black stone towered in the distance. All the windows were dark but smoke curled out of the chimney.

My breath caught in my throat. I needed to get out of here. There was absolutely no way this place was safe. I looked around, suddenly wary of spying eyes. And when I glanced back at the gate, there was a man standing there. I shrieked and stumbled back.

He was tall and his skin was so white it was nearly translucent. His silver eyes were the same shade as his hair and he was wearing a long coat with brass buttons. His nails were sharp and painted black.

"Greetings," he said in a soft, lulling voice. "What brings you to my abode?"

"I–I was just passing by," I stammered. "Sorry to bother you."

"It's not a bother," the man said. He waved a hand and the gate creaked open. I backed up quickly. "I get very lonely. Company is always welcome. Would you like to stay for dinner?"

He flashed a smile at me and for a moment I thought I saw fangs. Fantastical stories I read in the school library came rushing back to me; tales of undead men and women who fed off of the blood of the living. Vampires.

"I can't stay," I told him. His eyes never left mine and I found myself unable to look away. He walked toward me and I edged backwards.

"Are you sure?" he purred. "We would have such a fascinating discussion. The man who lays the dead to rest and the man who cannot die."

My heartbeat was pounding in my ears. I had to get away! I swung my metal bottle at him and turned to run. But I only made it about ten steps before the man was in front of me again. I tried to back away but he lunged forward and grabbed my neck. His nails pierced the skin and I brought my knee up into his gut.

He let out a huff but didn't budge. I smacked the bottle against the back of his head, which snapped forward, but he didn't seem bothered. His nails dug in deeper and I felt rivulets of blood pouring down the sides of my neck.

I jerked back in a last frantic attempt to free myself. Then I felt a pinch of pain on my throat, which blossomed into a deep ache. The man's fangs were deep in my carotid artery. An intense dizziness swept over me and my knees buckled. This was the end.

Saigon Kane, 17

District 11 Tribute

The misty arena was starting to drive me a little crazy. I felt like I was going in circles. I swore I'd seen the same cluster of trees several times. A clump of rocks too. And it was too quiet. The occasional call of a crow was the only sound to reach me. There wasn't even any wind.

My anger with Mac had mostly died off. I still resented her, but I wasn't actively going to hunt her down. Even if she was weaponless and I wasn't, it would be stupid to seek out a fight. Not that I hadn't done stupid things before.

At least I wasn't as reckless as Esper. She was constantly getting herself into trouble, whether it be at school or at work. She wasn't allowed to work in our mom's store anymore after she screamed at a customer.

And yet, as annoying as she was, I missed her. Her and Rosemary and Oliver and my parents. District 11 wasn't the best place to live, but it was home. I had good friends and a loving family and enough money to stay afloat. The Hunger Games ruined all that. The Capitol ruined all that.

I knew a rebellion was pointless. I wouldn't ever dream of voicing the thoughts I had in the night, or when my supervisors screeched, or when Peacekeepers harassed us on the street. I valued my life too much. But sometimes I would allow myself to fantasize.

I had to do something to keep myself inspired. I wasn't going to give up, but being in the arena drained your energy in a way that nothing else did. Even working in the vineyards wasn't as exhausting.

I kept walking, but my arm ached from holding my sword and my shoulders were sore from the backpack. I passed a small pond earlier in the day yesterday so I had water, but I would have to refill my bottle soon. I still had food too, since blackberry bushes were abundant.

I'll just rest for a few minutes, I told myself. It won't hurt to take a breather. But as I shrugged off my backpack I heard it - the sound of running water. I rushed towards the sound, suddenly energized. A stream meant fresh water, and fish, and if it was a bigger river, there might be skunk cabbages or cattails.

I burst through the treeline and onto a rocky shore. Pebbles crunched under my boots as I surveyed the wide river in front of me. It was rushing quickly, and swollen as if a rainstorm had just passed. The other side was completely shrouded in mist. I couldn't see anything.

Curious, I picked up a pebble and slung it across the river. It disappeared into the mist and then came bouncing back, landing in the water with a soft splash. I'd reached the edge of the arena.

I knew the Gamemakers wouldn't be pleased if I tried to cross, but I didn't think it would hurt to get some water. And there were cattails farther upstream. I filled my bottle and dropped an iodine tablet in before heading toward the tall cattails.

I carefully climbed over several wet rocks and found a big clump of twigs and leaves nestled among the cattails. I gently nudged it with my foot and a large rat poked its head out.

It lunged almost before I registered what it was. It had unnaturally sharp teeth and I instantly knew it was some sort of mutt. It dug its little claws into my boot and I kicked, smashing it against the rocks. After several shakes, it fell off and flopped onto the pebbles.

I heard skittering and scurrying from inside the twig nest but I didn't wait around to see what came out. I leapt back over the rocks, nearly twisting my ankle as I ran for the trees. Luckily, it didn't seem like the rats were pursuing me.

Still, I ran until my lungs and legs ached and the stitch in my side forced me to stop. I leaned against a tree to catch my breath and looked down at the blood on the toe of my boot. I wasn't going back there again.

Lotus Amarin, 18

District 4 Tribute

There were two cannons today, and neither of them were us. It was getting to everyone; I could tell. We spent all day marching through the woods and all we found were blackberry bushes and crows. It was demoralizing. On television, the Games were exciting and action-packed. It turned out the arena was actually pretty boring.

I'd gotten back to camp with Crash and Becky about ten minutes ago. Aurelius greeted us with a pot of slightly burned beans, but nobody commented on their state. Taffeta and the 2s were still out.

"I wonder who died," Aurelius mused as we ate. Crash shrugged.

"Hopefully someone strong, like the kids from 11," I said.

"We'll see soon enough," Becky grumbled. She was always grumpy and on edge. I could tell she didn't like a single one of us and I knew she'd be one to watch out for when our alliance inevitably split up.

I glanced over at Crash, whose face was shadowy in the firelight. Xey were worried about something; I'd known xem long enough to recognize that. I waited until xey looked up before cocking my head toward our tent. Xey nodded.

We set our bowls down and made our way to the small tent we were sharing. Once we were inside, I nudged Crash.

"What's bothering you?"

"It's just bad sleep," xey said. I rolled my eyes.

"That's a pitiful lie. Come on. Tell me what's wrong."

Crash looked up at me with watery eyes. Xey didn't have xeir contacts in the arena, so xeir eyes were both a normal brown color. It was odd.

"Why did we volunteer?" xey asked. "And don't say it's for honor or anything." I took a deep, shaky breath.

"I volunteered because I don't want to live with my parents anymore. This is how I get away from them, and show all the non-cis people out there that they have value."

"I volunteered because I like being strong," Crash whispered. "I liked training and I liked being intimidating. But now I think it was the wrong choice."

"It's a little too late for regrets," I pointed out. Crash nodded, looking more subdued than I'd ever seen xem.

Xey looked up at me and I was surprised to see tears in xeir eyes.

"I volunteered to be with you," xey whispered. "If I'm going to die, I want to be with you until the very last second."

I threw my arms around xem and pulled xeir larger form against mine.

"I'll be with you until the very end."

Hi! Happy February! Like I said last chapter, I haven't been super happy with my writing. This story has become pretty stressful and I've honestly been anxious about writing it. But I don't want to give up on it! So I've decided to speed things up a little. Deaths might happen a little more frequently than originally planned, but I won't overdo it.

If you're looking for another SYOT to submit to, I'm working on a collaborative story with AmericanPi and 66samvr. It's the 1st Games and all deaths will be decided by the BrantSteele Hunger Games generator. The account is called Brant's Games, so go check it out if you're interested. It'll be a fun story. Also, I'd like your opinion on a decision for future SYOTs. I have four years left in my universe before we reach the 74th Games: the 68th, 69th, 72nd, and 73rd. I also have two upcoming victor exchanges. Would you prefer my next two SYOTs take place during the 68th and 69th Games, or the 72nd and 73rd?

I would also like to share my official sponsor rules. Everyone is allowed two sponsor items per story and only one can be to the tribute you submitted. You cannot submit anything game-changing or game-breaking, and I do request that you keep your sponsor gifts realistic. If you've already sent a sponsor gift they don't count towards your two, since that wouldn't be fair. But I am allowed to say no to a sponsor gift and I ask that you respect that. If I say no, I promise I have a reason.

Okay, the long author's note is over. Thanks for reading and please leave a review if you can!

QUESTIONS

1) Who do you think Becky's biggest threat is?

2) Which death was more surprising?

3) What do you think of Crash's new mindset? Will Lotus be able to keep zeir promise?

4) Who do you think will die next?

EULOGIES

17th: Kairos Nakamura (killed by Birch Paquin)

If Kairos wasn't a rebel, he would have been on my list of victor contenders. He was overall a normal kid but he was also brave and clever and willing to stand up for what's right. But he had an advantage in the arena and so the Gamemakers would never have allowed him to win. They did successfully track the hack to him, but him being reaped was a coincidence. Kairos's beliefs wavered but he found his voice in the end and he will never be forgotten. Thank you Carlpopa707.

16th: Arawn Giedroyc (killed by a vampire mutt)

Arawn was an amazing tribute and an absolute delight to have in the story. He was on my victor list from the beginning but then I thought of this mutt and I knew he had to fall here. The gravedigger dying at the hands of one who could never be buried was too poetic. Arawn was a good guy who would do anything for his family, and he brought peace to a lot of the people of District 12. His family will miss him, his district will miss him, and I will miss him. Thank you TheWatcherofTheVoid.

ALLIANCES

The Careers: Becky, Aurelius, Artemis, Donquixote, Crash, Lotus, Taffeta

Deranged & Confused: Calceus, Freya

Loners: Robyn, Anastasia, Birch, Mac, Brielle, Saigon

Have a nice day, be kind to each other, and never stop reading!

- Fiona