Arena 'Day' 3

RONAN AQUARIUS (18)

DISTRICT FOUR MALE

Ronan was anxious.

He hadn't exactly warmed up to the idea of being the person on guard duty while the Careers slept ever so peacefully for the second night in a row. He'd only been able to get some much-needed beauty sleep when, both times, Fleur and Alder offered to take his place for the first half of the Careers' self-imposed sleep schedule. No doubt they'd spent both those opportunities snogging away while the cameras feasted on their shappy bullshit of a love story.

Now, it was back to his turn. The lovebirds couldn't stay awake for long, and he was left to sit on a smooth boulder, scimitar hand, watching for any perils that the forest might stir up. Quianna had gotten him to do this, obviously, and Ronan knew full well that she would keep on giving him these sorts of tasks for as long as either of them lived. Heck, she'd even forced him to tidy everyone's sleeping bags the previous night and cook them meals.

He'd contemplated poisoning her there and then, but firstly, that would be stupidly obvious, and secondly, he'd been told to wait.

So, he waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

He couldn't even tell if the 'night' had ended. Time was difficult here, in the land of perpetual darkness. It was starting to irk him a little, not knowing how much time had passed. Iris had sent him a sponsor gift the night before, a warm cup of coffee alongside the current time and date on a note. She would've given him a watch, she'd said, but watches didn't exactly work here either. Apparently, Jolien had gotten word from a Gamemaker that if a watch were to be sent in, it would combust in a matter of minutes, depriving tributes of a slight reprieve from their decline into insanity.

Still, Ronan appreciated Iris's gesture. Unlike a certain girl who happened to be in the arena with him, she actually gave a damn about his welfare.

He scowled at the sleeping form of Quianna, every snore of hers striking a nerve within him. He felt like a slave to her, a worthless member of the Pack. Heck, Maximon said he'd overheard her telling Fleur she planned on sacrificing him anyway. She couldn't kill him directly, of course, that would be sacrilege and Quianna would be shamed upon for centuries, but she could indirectly make it happen.

That was more than enough to quell any doubts in his mind over what he had to do.

As Quianna snored on, Ronan saw Maximon begin to stir.

His grip tightened around his scimitar. Something inside him told him that Maximon seemed a little sketchy, but Maximon had been fairly kind to him thus far. He was the only one who seemed to genuinely see him as an equal within this Pack. Plus, he'd offered Ronan a ticket out of his privileged prison among the Careers.

Now? Ronan signed. They'd agreed on using sign language to communicate while in the arena, it was far less likely to arouse Quianna's suspicions if she overheard some of their conversations. For all she knew, they were just fiddling their fingers. Ronan was all too used to signing to others when he wanted to be discreet. District Four's older, native variant of siign language was a dying language in Four, most people only knew the Capitol's modern version. But when Ronan visited sketchy areas on his little adventures, knowledge of the old signs proved useful.

Here though, given Maximon's limited experience with sign language, he'd have to use the Capitol variant, which wasn't his favourite by any means.

I think so, Maximon signed back, glancing at the still-snoring Quianna.

Ronan gritted his teeth.

This was his moment.

He'd known that most of the Victors had a defining moment that sealed them as a Victor in the Games, with the Gamemakers playing the arena storyline to their advantage from that point onward.

This would be his moment.

He, however, couldn't touch Quianna, and he didn't exactly want to either. As much as he despised her, he felt somewhat bad for her. It wasn't her fault that she'd spent all her life being force-fed Capitolite propaganda.

So, as Maximon took his place near Quianna, Ronan settled for Fleur. The beautiful girl from One was snuggled up right next to Alder, which made him an easy second target. She had been polite and perhaps even kind to him thus far, but he knew that underneath this facade of benevolence lay a spoiled brat, one Maximon had told him treated killing others like some sort of twisted princess-style game.

And Alder?

Well, he was just a simp for Fleur's affection. Ronan couldn't give a damn about him. He wasn't particularly strong anyway, compared to the other Careers.

Ronan took a deep breath.

This is for your survival.

Brandishing his scimitar, he raised it over Fleur's sleeping figure. Glancing at Maximon, he gave a slight nod.

Ready when you are.

Maximon raised a hand to signal a countdown.

Three.

Ronan averted his gaze from Fleur, suddenly all too conscious of the fact that he was about to end someone's life -again. He'd done it before, he'd killed Totlen in the Bloodbath, and he'd struck a couple of other tributes too.

But this felt a lot more personal, a lot colder and more sinister.

Was he really that type of person?

He didn't really have time to back out, though. Maximon lowered a finger.

Two.

Rowan took another deep breath.

This was it.

He looked at Maximon, waiting for him to drop another finger.

But that never happened.

Because before Ronan could respond, Maximon was shouting for help, screaming, "Ronan's trying to fucking betray us!"

The shock stupefied Ronan, grinding every muscle in his body to a screeching halt as he gaped at Maximon.

Oh.

Soon, his scimitar had been knocked out of his hand by Fleur, who, as it turned out, was a fairly light sleeper.

And before Ronan knew it, Fleur had stuck a knife into his chest.

All because he'd been too fucking naive.

He'd trusted a traitorous brat.

ALEA KORAH (18)

DISTRICT FIVE FEMALE

Alea hated herself.

She groaned as she hobbled through the woods, dragging her wounded leg along as thickets and thorns scratched harshly upon her exposed flesh. That stupid boy Ronan had taken a swipe at her leg, probably because Quianna had told him not to, because that's what stupid boys from stupid Career packs did.

She grimaced. At the very least Quianna had the good grace to quietly throw her a packet of bandages as she half-swam, half-paddled away from the Cornucopia.

Too bad those bandages were ripped to shreds while she lay asleep by some freakish half-squirrel, half-termite hybrid mutts.

Now, she was back to hobbling around with an exposed wound, openly welcoming any infections that were bound to come sauntering her way.

"Marie," she murmured, hoping the cameras could hear her. "Some medicine, please?" She really should've spent more time at the medicine station, studying herbs and all, but to be fair, in this dark forest, it was kind of hard for her to tell which plants were which. The risk of accidentally applying a rash-inducing leaf to her injury was simply not worth it.

A cannon boomed in the distance and she let out a soft chuckle.

One less tribute to give a damn about, I hope it's Ronan.

Or maybe Persey. It seemed cruel but Alea hoped Persey would die sooner than later. It reduced the risk of her having to fight him. And as much as she found him insufferable, she couldn't bear the thought of bearing arms against the kid.

Suddenly, she heard the familiar metallic beeping noise.

A parachute.

She froze. It might not be hers. And if it wasn't, that meant trouble was nearby. She glanced around, peering closely at the underbrush and the canopies, trying to spot any silhouettes or camouflaged figures in the darkness.

The parachute floated closer to her and she let out a sigh of relief as the eggplant brown '5' became visible on its side. She reached out to grab it mid-air and lifted it open. A small smile crept across her face.

At long last, her prayers had been answered.

Inside were a whole host of plastic medicine bottles and several rolls of bandages, more than enough to not only aid her ailing leg, but also keep her worry-free when it came to illnesses and infection for at least two weeks.

The box came with a note from Marie as well, which read: 'I hope you're happy. I had to barter some good paintings for this.'

Alea grinned. "I'd be happy if you could barter some more good paintings in exchange for my Victory."

She sifted through the medicine bottles until she found an appropriate one which she poured generously over her gashed leg. Her fists clenched as her skin stung on contact with the amber liquid, but soon, the wound began to fade, and her skin seemed to almost spontaneously regenerate, closing over the once-open flesh, reducing the injury to mere scars.

This was absolutely perfect.

Now, she could walk hassle-free through the woods, gaining more distance by the minute. And it paid off pretty quickly, because through a thick set of trees, she caught sight of something intriguing.

A cluster of mushrooms, clustered in a large circle amidst the shimmering moonlight of a forest grove. She'd heard about such things from folklore, though she couldn't quite recall what they were supposedly meant to be. But if her memory served her well, it was a pretty good sign.

So, without hesitation, she marched right up to it and stepped inside.

Alea didn't know what exactly happened next. One moment she was standing inside this strange circle of mushrooms, and the next thing she knew, she was in that same circle of mushrooms, but in an underground chamber.

"Well, shit," she cursed, glancing around frantically.

The chamber was dark, except for a small blue light glowing through a tiny door that was just big enough for a lean person to squeeze through. Alea was by no means small, but she managed to scrunch and bend her body to fit right through, hissing as her skin roughly scraped the doorway, which was coated in some smouldering, clear liquid.

But once she'd managed to push her body through, she found herself staring at a vast tunnel that stretched out for seemingly miles ahead of her.

"Double shit," she cursed again, groggily rising to her feet and warily searching for any possible exits.

But the cavern seemed to be sealed shut and the only way was forward.

Alea trod carefully, keeping her pace at a slow and cautious crawl, her hands clasped firmly on her metal box of medical supplies, ready to use it as a projectile. The dread of what lay ahead loomed over her, the threat of a sudden mutt attack lingering like an unwanted ghost in her heart.

The tunnel's walls were covered in vivid paintings and murals, but she couldn't bring herself to enjoy them. The shifting eyes of the people depicted in the murals seemed to follow her, the tunnel lights casting an eerie glow upon their hollow, lifeless faces. The fear that one of them may come to life all of a sudden began to creep through her chest as each passing mural seemed to depict increasingly more people, until she reached a large one of hundreds of people gathered at an assembly, all staring soullessly at her.

She shuddered, wondering how stupid she'd been to get herself into this mess. "Ugh, I can't believe I called that dork Persey an idiot only for me to… argh!" She glared at a mural, one depicting a young boy staring listlessly ahead by the beach. With a surge of frustration, she raced forward and slammed the mural with her foot, kicking the rock wall as hard as she could. "Take that, you-"

Suddenly, the ground began to rumble.

"Triple shit!" she screamed, whirling around in desperate search for an exit. Her heart began to race, her head screaming in annoyance as she contemplated the reality of her being killed by a wall she herself had kicked down in anger.

But as she tried to scurry away, the mural crumbled, revealing an opening.

And Wisteria from District Eleven.

The two girls stared at each other, both stunned to find another trapped in this underground labyrinth.

Wisteria flashed Alea a cool smile.

Alea, however, didn't want to take her chances. She didn't know Wisteria very well, but she could be dangerous.

Plus, perhaps getting rid of her would be the key to getting out of her earthen prison.

She leapt through the opening and charged at Wisteria, silently hoping Wisteria wasn't hiding any weapons.

Thankfully, the girl from Eleven didn't have any on her body and she let out a guttural scream as Alea slammed her into the ground. Alea raised her fist, ready to strike her but Wisteria caught it and held it in a vice-like grip. Alea howled, trying to break free but Wisteria was surprisingly strong. She bit back a fourth course as now Wisteria began to wriggle free from under her, clasping her other wrist and rolling Alea onto her back with an almighty push.

Wisteria let out a loud guffaw. And that's when Alea noticed that Wisteria's smile had not once dropped. It had only widened know, spreading forth into a psychotic grin.

"Ooh, tried to attack me, yeah?" Wisteria teased, kicking Alea in the groin. Alea groaned, trying her very best to refrain from doubling over as the pain surged through her insides. She gritted her teeth and channelled a burst of energy into her arm. She hoisted her trapped left wrist upward, smacking an unsuspecting Wisteria in the eye. A moment's hesitation was all it took for Alea to break free and push Wisteria back to the ground. Wisteria swung back at her, narrowly missing Alea's chest. Both girls shoved, wrestled, kicked, Alea crying out as Wisteria scratched her claw-like nails across Alea's chest, ripping the fabric of her shirt and drawing blood. Wisteria slammed a punch into Alea's windpipe, knocking her backwards. In a desperate attempt to regain the upper hand, Alea grabbed Wisteria by her hair and pulled her forward. Her hand charged forth and grabbed Wisteria by the throat, squeezing it tight. Wisteria gagged, punching and kicking Alea hard, but she was tiring out. Alea rolled Wisteria onto her back and continued to choke her while her body pushed hard against Wisteria's limbs to immobilise them. Wisteria spit in her eye, which Alea forced herself to ignore once again as she put even more pressure on Wisteria's windpipe.

It was long.

It was difficult.

But soon, the cannon boomed.

As Alea stepped away from Wisteria's corpse, wheezing and panting heavily, a stairway emerged, leading out of the tunnels and back into the main level of the arena.

Alea was all too happy to return to the darkness.

MIA KELLER (18)

DISTRICT TWO FEMALE

Mia was tired.

She'd spent a good chunk of the last couple of hours or so being chased by some tiger mutts, narrowly avoiding their ravenous fangs by ripping one of the blue lights off a tree and hurling it at the tiger mutts in desperation. Strangely, the mutts didn't seem to dare approach the projectile and trotted away with loud puffs and grunts.

Whatever the case, Mia heaved a huge sigh of relief, slumping against the tree as she caught her breath. She pulled her backpack over, wincing as she examined its tattered surface, courtesy of a rather feisty tiger mutt. The water bottle and food supplies she'd snagged from the Cornucopia had remained intact, but her blanket and bandage rolls were torn beyond use.

And she was still without a weapon.

Mia groaned as she shoved her backpack into her lap, her head reclining slightly to lean on the tree's coarse bark. If only Draco had picked another girl for the Games, then maybe she wouldn't be here, having to rough it out in this stupid arena fighting for her life. She'd refused to be part of the Career pack, vowing that if she won, she'd be the first pacifist Victor in the history of the Hunger Games, or if that somehow wasn't possible, she'd do as little fighting as she could manage. She certainly wouldn't be the one prancing around mercilessly slaughtering innocent little kids in their sleep. And if the faces in the sky and the booms of cannons were any indication, Mia could tell the Careers were doing plenty of just that.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes at the thought of that barbaric lot masquerading as celebrities racking up their kill counts. Fleur and Alder were no doubt still maintaining their kind, cheerful facades, and while Mia admittedly did sympathise with Alder's plight, he hadn't been forced to join the Careers.

Heck, Mia had taken the initiative for him, but he'd chosen his side.

The woods were deafeningly silent, not even the slightest gush of wind or the tiniest rustle of leaves could be heard here. Mia had longed for some peace and quiet after the chaos of the pre-Games, but this was starting to drive her crazy. There didn't seem to be anything, or anyone, near her, but an inexplicable sense of unease crept over her, as though unseen eyes watched from the shadows, lurking in the murk, waiting for the right moment to reveal itself.

Perhaps it was her mind playing tricks, perhaps she was getting tired, but the blue lights that surrounded her seemed to dim, casting an even more ominous shadow over the woods.

Mia shuddered, her fingers trembling both from the cold and from the fear of the unknown. The darkness didn't scare her, her solitude didn't faze her, the possibility that she wasn't alone, that there was something in this darkness, now that sent chills up her spine.

She took a deep breath. This wasn't good, the longer she sat there scaring herself, the less rational she would be, leaving her prone to a descent into madness.

Mia weighed her options. Forging ahead was one, but this spot seemed safe for now, it would be foolish to go on and potentially run into trouble. She could try to calm herself down, but how?

Instinctively, as if on cue, a song began to escape her lips, her vocal cords firing into action to save the day. Mia was stunned at first, but she didn't stop singing, her voice soft and tremulous, a fragile melody piercing into the cold silence of the woods, floating into the still air and dancing delicately through the thick, intertwined branches above.

As the lyrics poured out of her chest, the tension that had gripped her seemed to follow them out of her soul, uneasy serenity crawling in to replace it. Mia continued to sing, every note she sang seemingly brightening the blue lights around her. For the most fleeting of moments, Mia could sense Alyaa's presence right there with her in this cold, bitter place, singing along with her, just like the good old days. Warmth filled her heart just thinking about it and she allowed a soft smile to crawl up her lips as she filled the woods with a quiet, subtle yet ethereal beauty. The haunting melody continued to rise, Mia immersing herself into the song she'd written for Alyaa all those years ago by the campfire.

Then, she heard a twig snap.

Mia's mouth slammed shut.

She grabbed her backpack.

And ran.

16th: Ronan Aquarius (by Fleur Montgomery)

A/N: Oh, Ronan, you really shouldn't have trusted Maximon. To be honest, from the minute I got Maximon's character I knew he was going to betray someone- or everyone- and ultimately decided on Ronan. An eager adventurer who boldly accepted his fate and went along with the Games, Ronan was in it to win it, unfortunately, he placed his bets on the wrong person. In a different world he would be Panem's finest explorer, perhaps alongside Levi and Quianna, but alas, it wasn't meant to be. Thank you to TheWatcherofTheVoid for Ronan and for being one of my first submitters, I loved him.

15th: Wisteria Ambrose (by Alea Korah)

A/N: Wisteria could've won in an alternate universe in which I hadn't changed my mind. I had her going into the finale at one point, really gaining steam and fighting tooth and nail for the crown and her ticket home. But sadly, miracles don't always happen in the Games, and this time, at least she got herself into a nice little challenging adventure before she met her end at the hands of Alea. Wisteria was always really interesting to write and I really enjoyed seeing what I could do with her. A challenge to write for sure, but as Wisteria would've put it, challenges are made to be done. Thank you to SilverflowerXRavenpaw for Wisteria.