Crash Derosches, 18

District 4 Tribute

When I was a kid I was terrified of storms. The massive waves and howling wind kept me up at night, curled under my blanket and crying into a pillow. My mom always comforted me by telling me the storm couldn't hurt me. I was safe inside the house and I had nothing to fear.

Lotus's death was nothing like that. I knew it was inevitable and could feel it creeping closer every day. And now the moment had come; zey were gone. I was so overwhelmed that I didn't even look to see who killed zem. I just stabbed. Only when she fell did I realize it was the girl from 10. And only after her cannon fired did I realize I didn't even know her name.

I bit down hard on the inside of my lip to keep myself from crying. I couldn't let my allies hear my sobs; even though I'd cried all night and they could probably assume I was devastated regardless of my tears. The Academy taught us not to show weakness. They neglected to teach us how to cope with grief.

"Crash?" a gentle voice said from outside my tent. "Are you awake?"

"Yes," I croaked, surprised by how scratchy my voice was.

The tent flap opened and Taffeta poked her head in.

"How's your hand?" she asked, gesturing to the swath of bandages on my left hand.

"It doesn't hurt more than it did last night, so I'm going to say that it's fine."

When the girl from 3 blew up part of our camp and fatally injured Artemis, I was caught in the blast too. My left side was covered with burns and the three smallest fingers on my left hand had been blown off. Don and I wrapped the stubs in time to prevent me from bleeding out but there wasn't much else to do.

"Someone sent you a present," Taffeta said. She handed me a small box, which I opened awkwardly. Inside was a metal tin filled with a creamy white paste. It was burn cream.

I dipped two fingers in and smeared the cream all over the left side of my face. The stinging skin was immediately soothed and I let out a sigh of relief. Then, with Taffeta's help, I was able to rub the cream on my chest and arm.

When I was thoroughly covered, Taffeta wiped her greasy hand on her pants and cleared her throat.

"Crash… there was something I wanted to talk to you about." Her voice was quiet, but heavy with seriousness.

"What is it?" I asked, suddenly nervous. I was usually confident about everything I did and felt, but everything had changed. I wasn't the same person who volunteered what felt like a lifetime ago. And from what I knew of her, Taffeta wasn't prone to nervousness either.

"We've lost two of our allies already…" she began, not making eye contact with me. But I could see her focusing on me from the corner of her eye. "Becky and Aurelius are from the same district. If anything goes down, they'll have each others' backs. You had Lotus and Don had Artemis. But they're gone now."

"Don has you," I pointed out grumpily. I knew I was in a vulnerable spot now. I knew. I didn't need her to remind me.

"Don trusts me because he knows he can kill me," Taffeta said simply. She didn't seem bothered by the thought. She was treating it like a cold, hard fact. "If it comes down to me and him, he'll win. And now that you're injured, he can probably beat you too."

"I think you and I should form our own secret alliance," she whispered. "When the Pack splits, Don will focus on Aurelius and Becky. They're the biggest threats in his eyes. Then you and I do what we need to do."

My ally folded her hands in her lap and waited. Worry was etched deeply into her expression but her shoulders were squared and her head was held high. She wasn't giving up. And I wasn't either.

"Sounds like a plan," I said. She smiled and offered a hand for a fistbump. I returned it.

Anastasia Willows, 17

District 5 Female

It was amazing that I'd been in the arena for almost a week. It gave me lots of time to think… like about how "amazing" just meant 'something that amazed'. It didn't have to be positive. Because being a tribute certainly wasn't.

I hadn't seen another living soul since the bloodbath. I was a social person and the silence and monotony was starting to drive me a little crazy. I'd taken to humming little songs about what I was doing to pass the time. When I found myself singing while I peed, I knew I had to make a change.

But there was nothing I could change. I didn't even know where I was anymore. I'd set up several traps but I doubted I could find them again. The mist was so thick I was nervous to even take off my backpack. If I set it down, I might never see it again.

It was hard to admit it, even to myself, but I missed home. I didn't miss my parents, but I missed Otis and the gang, and I missed my younger cousin Evie. She was the only person left in my family I could truly say I cared for.

There was some rustling nearby and I jumped to my feet, scrabbling for a knife. I'd been alone for so long I'd forgotten to be alert and it took me too much time to grab a weapon.

But the girl that emerged from the mist seemed harmless. It was a small girl from 11, and she was approaching with her hands in the air.

"Hi Anastasia," she said, flashing me a small, awkward smile. "I'm Freya. I'm not looking for a fight."

"What are you looking for?" I asked her. I was still gripping my knife, but I lowered my arm. Freya was completely unnamed and I was bigger than her. But she truly didn't seem like she wanted to attack me.

"I wanted to offer you an alliance." Freya took a few steps forward and relaxed her arms. I found myself doing the same.

"I know we're pretty late into the Games," she continued. "But five of the Careers are still out there. And my district partner and Mac from 9, who are allied. If either of us run into any of them while alone, we wouldn't stand a chance."

"You might be underestimating me," I pointed out. "I have throwing knives and plenty of supplies. You have nothing."

"Yes. But supplies won't last forever and we don't know how much longer we'll be in the arena. I'm from a rural district. I can find food. And I scored a 12 in training. If anyone is going to get sponsored, it's me."

I watched her, my knife by my side now. Everything she said made sense. We would stand a better chance together and I was running a little low on food.

"Alright," I said. I tucked my knife back into my belt and walked up to her with my hand out. She shook it firmly.

"Happy Hunger Games," I said. Freya grinned.

"And may the odds be ever in your favor."

Donquixote "Don" Esperanza, 18

District 2 Male

I was still fuming over the little brat from 3. How she managed to make a bomb was beyond me, but the fact that she'd dared use it on us? Inconceivable. She was exactly the type of tricky little rat the Academy trainers warned us about. It was hard to beat a Career by brute force, but sneaky tributes could accomplish it.

I wished I was the one to kill her. I would have made her death slow and bloody and painful. The Capitol would have forgotten all about how pathetic it was that Artemis took her own life. They'd see District 2's true strength.

But Aurelius got her first. And now Artemis was dead, Crash was injured, and there were still four other outliers in the arena; all of whom had gotten decent scores. I was aching to find the twig from 11, but the pretty girl from 5 would be a satisfying kill as well. She reminded me of my older sister Valerie and I hated it.

I wanted to pick a fight with someone, which was why I asked Taffeta to come hunting with me. I knew she was too much of a coward to betray me and I didn't feel quite angry enough to take my frustration out on her. If it was Becky? The girl would have been sliced to ribbons already.

"Don," Taffeta said gently. Her voice came from right behind me and I barely managed not to jump in surprise. I hadn't heard her get close. "I'm worried."

"About what?" I snapped. "How we can't find a single goddamn tribute in this blasted arena?"

"About Becky."

"Oh."

"She hates me," Taffeta said quietly. I scoffed.

"She hates all of us."

"Exactly! She's going to come for us at some point and I think she'll start with me. Don, I'm scared. You're so brave and strong - stronger than she is. Will you protect me?"

I looked over at Taffeta again. At first glance, she seemed dull and airheaded. But she was smarter than she looked. She coasted through the Games by hiding in my shadow. She wanted me to protect her, and I would. Until the moment it would hurt most for her to be betrayed. The Capitol audience would eat it up.

"Of course I will," I said with a smirk. "If she puts even a single toe out of line, I'll kill her."

"Thank you," Taffeta said, fluttering her eyelashes. "You're the best."

Grinning, I ran a hand through my hair. But before I could say anything in return, a pained gasp came from somewhere nearby. I gripped my sais tightly and Taffeta raised her dagger.

A girl with wild hair came sprinting out of the trees. She was breathing hard and was covered in cuts and scratches. And her eyes were wide with fear, but she was running right at me.

I stood my ground. When she reached me, I slid the tip of the sai along her cheek, opening up a long, thin cut. But she didn't even flinch; she just drove her fist into my throat.

I staggered back, gagging and gasping for air, but the girl didn't give me any time to recover. She slammed into my torso and knocked me down. One of my sais slipped away as I elbowed her in the side of the head. She grunted in pain but seemed otherwise alright.

Her sharp, dirty fingernails dug into my throat and she began to scratch and tear. I brought my other sai up, ready to slip the point between her ribs, but she batted my hand away without looking. With unnatural strength, she pinned my wrist against the grass.

Panicking now, I brought my head up and smashed my forehead into her nose. She reared back as blood splattered the both of us. I glanced over at Taffeta, but she was gone. Traitor.

The girl scrambled off of me as I brought my sai up again. Instead of sinking into her stomach, I drove it into the side of her leg. Her scream was inhuman and it made me shudder. Something was very wrong with her.

She rolled away, wrenching the sai free from my grasp and taking my final weapon with her. I started to stand and reach for the other one when she was on top of me again. She hit me so hard the air was knocked out of my lungs.

I tried to grab her shoulders but she gripped my wrist and twisted, breaking it like it was a toothpick. My heart was beating faster and faster and I realized, with a tremor of horror, that I was crying. No!

What are you doing? I shouted to myself in my head. Snap out of it!

I started to scream; an angry battle cry that would frighten the girl and enhance my will to fight. But it was cut off in a painful gurgle as her nails ripped through the thin skin of my throat and tore it open.

I thrashed and wailed, my hands pressing down on the wound in a hopeless attempt to stem the flow of blood. The girl flopped down on the grass beside me and began to sob, clutching her stomach with one hand and licking the blood off the fingers of the other.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't bring any air into my lungs. My legs spasmed weakly and I let my body fall limp. The mist seemed to be growing thicker around me, though it was just my vision fading. I dug my fingers into the earth and squeezed my eyes shut.

It wasn't fair! I was supposed to be the strongest…

Saigon Kane, 17

District 11 Tribute

Back at home when we watched the Games, everything seemed wild and quick and packed with action. Being in the Games was entirely different. Almost nothing happened. My encounter with the rats a few days ago had been the first and last notable arena event for me… if I didn't count breaking up with Mac.

I couldn't help but wonder how she was doing. Her face had yet to appear in the sky so she was out there somewhere. Whether she was in good condition or not was a mystery.

I did feel the tiniest bit guilty about how we parted ways. I let my temper get the best of me, like I often did. I remembered the day before the reaping, when I got into a fight with Esper. I was only trying to keep her safe, but was I too harsh?

I knew I had a tendency to blow up over small things. And I knew I could work on my patience and my empathy. Oliver and Rosemary were always so patient with me. I remembered Oliver's words to me in the Justice Building: "Be fierce, Saigon. But don't lose who you are. You are good. I know that."

But was I? Sure, I worked hard to put food on the table and pay the bills, but any extra money I made I spent on cheap wine and cigars. Juniper, Noel, and I would hide out in Noel's dad's garden shed to smoke and drink and badmouth our co-workers and families. Juniper said it was a good way to decompress but it was also a selfish splurge.

I was getting frustrated now. I'd been a terrible child and sibling. There was a line between tough love and just being mean, and I'd crossed it a long time ago.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. My voice came out scratchy as tears threatened to fall. I swallowed hard and spoke again.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry mom and dad. I'm sorry Oliver and Rosemary and Esper. I've been a jerk for so many years. If I win, I'll make things better. I promise."

I didn't think I could keep the tears at bay any longer when a shout of pain echoed through the foggy forest. I leapt to my feet and scooped up my sword, looking around nervously. The sounds of fighting were getting clearer, now that I was focused on it and not my own shortcomings.

I carefully tucked my backpack behind a clump of blackberry bushes and began to creep towards the sound of the scuffle. I weaved through a narrow clump of pines and then peeked out into a bigger clearing; where Mac was locked in a brutal fight with the boy from 2.

I watched in horror as he stabbed a strange weapon into her thigh. She gasped in pain and pulled away, but was on him again in a heartbeat. She broke his wrist with ease when he tried to push her away and then tore her jagged fingernails into his throat.

A soft, horrified gasp escaped me. This was not the stubborn, driven girl I met in the Capitol. This was a wild animal who was thirsting for blood. As the blonde boy choked and spasmed, Mac curled up on her side and cried. Her back was to me but I could see her body shaking with sobs.

I wasn't sure how much time passed, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, the boy's cannon fired. His glassy eyes stared up at the sky and blood still trickled down the side of his neck.

Mac was still crying and the unfamiliar feeling of pity filled me. I cautiously stepped out of the trees, sword at the ready. When I emerged she sat up and whipped around to face me. Her eyes were red and puffy and her skin was frighteningly pale. Her body was littered with scratches and bites, and there was blood on and around her mouth.

"Saigon," she croaked. "Help."

"What happened?" I asked. My hands were quivering and I tightened my grasp on my weapon.

"Rats," she said. "Blood… so much blood… so hungry…"

I looked down at the scuffed toe of my boot, where I'd violently kicked the rat trying to bite me. Did the rats do this to Mac? What kind of mutt could do that? I couldn't fathom what she was suffering from.

I told myself I'd be better. I told my family too. I could almost hear Oliver next to me, encouraging me to say what I needed to say.

"Mac…" I took a few steps closer. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you lost Brady and I'm sorry I was so mean to you about it. I know you loved him a lot."

Tears streamed down Mac's cheeks as she dragged herself closer to me. Blood was still dripping from the stab wound on her leg.

"I understand," she whispered. "I—I forgive you."

I took a few steps closer and Mac laid down on her side. We rested in silence for a few minutes before she struggled into a sitting position.

"Will you kill me?" she asked. I almost dropped my sword.

"What?"

"The rats… it hurts. I'm so hungry… Saigon, please."

I looked her up and down. Everything about her was wrong. I didn't really believe in auras, but in her little trinket shop my mom sold crystals that would protect you from people with bad auras. I never really understood what that meant… until now. Mac's aura was sick. It was broken. Continuing to live the way she was living was worse than death.

"Okay," I told her. She laid back down, on her back this time, and nodded to me once. Then she shut her eyes as I stood over her. I felt the weight of the sword in my hands and looked down at my former ally once more.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again. Then I brought the blade down and sank it deep into her chest.

Boom.

Hi everyone! Here's Day 6; another wild chapter! I've had Mac's death planned for a while but I wasn't sure who would be involved, which is why I asked last chapter. In the end, I decided to combine the ideas. Hopefully it turned out good! And after this chapter, we only have two more Games chapters! I've narrowed my victor choice down to two tributes, but I'm still not entirely sure who I'll go with.

I will officially be closing submissions for my new partial SYOT on March 1st (at the end of the day). I have 12 slots filled but if at least two more people submit, I am willing to go up to 14 or 16 POV tributes. I just want to keep the number even. So if you're interested in submitting, ask now! Also, my collaborative SYOT with 66samvr and AmericanPi still needs an 8F. If you haven't submitted yet, check out the profile Brant's Games.

QUESTIONS

1) What is Taffeta up to?

2) What is Freya up to?

3) Which death was more unexpected: Don's or Mac's?

4) Has your opinion on any of these tributes changed?

5) Who do you think is the least likely to win?

EULOGIES

9th: Donquixote "Don" Esperanza (killed by Mac Pricker)

Don was a great villain who really embodied the mindset of the Capitol - the strong deserve all the power. He was ruthless, but he was also clever. He knew how to stay on everyone's good side and used his charm as well as his strength to the fullest extent. He would have been President Snow's ideal victor. If Mac hadn't been filled with super strength from rat mutt juice, he would have dominated. Unfortunately, the odds were not in his favor. Thank you DariDark.

8th: Mackenzie "Mac" Pricker (killed by Saigon Kane)

I know there are married tributes out there, but Mac and Brady were my firsts. They needed each other, but they were their own people outside of their marriage. Mac was traumatized and flawed, but she remained a fighter. She never gave up and refused to let Brady's death define her (although she missed him SO MUCH). Unfortunately, she was the one I chose to fall victim to the rat mutts. But at least she made peace with Saigon before she died. Thank you cassy2002xo (p.s. Cassy's girl Mira won my last SYOT so Mac was kind of destined to die...)

ALLIANCES

The Careers: Becky, Aurelius, Crash, Taffeta

Sneaky Ladies: Anastasia, Freya

Loners: Saigon

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

- Fiona