Arena 'Night' 6

ITHACA EMORY (18)

DISTRICT THREE FEMALE

The arena never ceased to surprise Ithaca.

Ithaca wandered through the trees, her mind still haywire from witnessing Persey's death. She'd left him there for the taking, abandoned her ally in his time of need.

But realistically, what could she have done?

Ithaca sighed, pushing past some vines, her mind lost in a tapestry of thoughts and emotions.

And then she saw it.

A well, standing right there in a grove, illuminated by the glow of the blue moon above. Ithaca had no idea how she hadn't yet been made aware of its presence beforehand. It emitted a faint glowing light that danced through the canopy, acting as a giant beacon, yet Ithaca had been so lost in her own mind she'd completely missed it.

Time to focus, Ithaca.

The well's stones were worn smooth with age, as though it had been there for a thousand generations, draped in ivy and moss, but it shimmered in a kaleidoscope of colours so bright, it made Ithaca's head hurt.

She approached the well, shielding her gaze as she bent to touch the stones. She didn't know why she would do such a thing, she just felt oddly drawn to it. As she drew closer, the air seemed to hum with a strange energy, increasing in volume until it reached a full, high-pitched shriek. Ithaca placed a hand on one of the stones and the shrieking stopped. When she lifted her hand again, the shrieking commenced once more.

"Huh, interesting," she murmured.

She placed another hand on yet another stone. The colours seemed to vanish, draining the well of its riot of colours.

"Hey!"

Ithaca whirled around, keeping both hands on the well as Alder burst through the trees, sword in hand. He narrowed his puffy red eyes at her, a murderous blaze searing through his expression. Ithaca's mind began to race. She vaguely recalled observing symptoms of chromesthesia when Alder would squeeze his eyes shut during training in response to vibrant colours or loud noises. She remembered how during the interviews, the brightly coloured clothing of the Capitolites made him visibly uncomfortable.

As Alder approached, sword ready to strike her down, a plan formulated in Ithaca's mind. She waited for him to draw nearer, feigning a look of sheer terror upon her face. When he got right up to her face, raising his sword to make what seemed to be an easy attack, Ithaca released her hands from the well, summoning a cacophony of ear-splitting shrieks and a torrent of vibrancy upon Alder's unsuspecting eyes.

He let out a bewildered yelp, dropping his sword as he squeezed his eyes shut, jamming his fingers into his ears.

Ithaca wasted no time in seizing her opportunity.

She pounced on Alder, and despite her smaller stature, beckoned every ounce of energy she ever had to punch Alder's head, striking blow after blow until finally, he was rendered unconscious, his body going limp.

Gingerly, Ithaca placed Alder's body onto the ground. She picked up his sword and took a deep breath.

Alder has a family back home.

She hated herself for having to do this, becoming the antagonist in a desperate family's story. But this had to be done.

She struck Alder in the chest.

The cannon boomed.

Ithaca ran as fast as she could away from the scene, fleeing her own criminal deed, and the overwhelming guilt that was slowly beginning to seep into her mind like an uninvited yet deserved intruder.

CERIDWEN ADAMOS CARDINAL (15)

DISTRICT EIGHT FEMALE

The Capitolites never fucking ceased to surprise Ceri.

Tonight, it was her turn to be on guard duty. The cannon had boomed not too long ago, nearly jolting Jotham awake, but she lulled him back to sleep with a makeshift lullaby, which sounded stupid upon reflection, but it was Ceri's feeble attempt at being sweet, so fuck it.

She twiddled around with her knife, a weapon which had thus far served her well, but it wasn't quite what she'd been hoping for.

She'd been itching for a spark, something that could light up and burst into flames, procuring a blast that would seal her victory in style.

Or perhaps a wrench or hammer, because those sorts of gritty melee fights would probably suit her better than using merely a blade. Ithaca was bound to use some sort of trap device to lure them in and kill them from a distance while Tamsin was, well, a dangerous psychopath, so Ceri didn't exactly fancy her chances with either of them.

And then there was Jotham.

She gazed at him, her brows furrowing in frustration. Was such a scenario possible? Two Victors? Or somehow, could one of them survive alongside the main Victor? She'd heard stories of how one girl once escaped the Hunger Games, but that was in the earliest era of the Games and occurred before she'd even gone into the arena. As far as Ceri knew, once the hovercraft dropped you in, there was only one way out.

She sighed, wondering how she could possibly hurt, let alone kill, Jotham. But if she wanted to see her family again and have a shot at life, it had to be done.

But she vowed only to do it if they both reached the final two, a scenario so utterly dreadful she shuddered at the mere thought of it.

Suddenly, she heard a faint clinking noise. She turned and her eyes widened in amazement as a parachute floated down to her, the number '8' printed on its side.

An actual fucking sponsor?

Those must be expensive these days, were the Capitolites really this willing to just splurge on some poor schmuck fighting for her life?

"Well, in that case, don't mind if I do," Ceri muttered, hopping over to open the attached container, which curiously had several 'CAUTION' labels which Ceri chose to not-so-respectfully ignore.

She ripped the container open and let out a guffaw, nearly belting out a shitton of expletives as she shook her head in wonder.

Inside the container were all the chemicals she needed to manufacture one stick of homemade explosives.

Ceri got to work immediately, carefully mixing the necessary chemicals and pouring them into her stick, taking great care to avoid accidentally detonating it on the spot. She made sure to store it gingerly in her backpack, making a mental note to handle the bag with absolute caution.

Then, came the other important question. Should she tell Jotham? What would he think of it?

There was also the possibility that it came down to the two of them and she needed a quick, painless way for him to go.

She squeezed her eyes shut, not even daring to think of such a cruel way of betraying the boy she'd called her friend.

Ceri forced herself to shove such thoughts aside, but deep down, she knew she was only delaying the inevitable.

Just then, the booming voice of Caesar Flickermann rang through the arena.

"Attention, tributes."

Jotham groggily woke up, yawning as he lifted himself to a sitting position.

"All tributes are to follow the blue moon you see above in the sky back to the Cornucopia. The finale will begin at the crack of dawn. Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favour."

Ceri blinked.

"What the fuck?

5th: Alder Pierce (by Ithaca Emory)

A/N: Alder, Alder, Alder. The sweet guy next door who loved Fleur and wanted to save his twin sister. He knew he was going to be met with heartbreak either way whether he lived to see it or not, and alas, this is where he goes down. At the very least, he will be able to join Fleur in the afterlife, reunited with his one true love. An outsider within the Career pack, he outlasted all of his Career counterparts and took out four tributes along the way. He was always determined to make it back home, yet ultimately, he wasn't able to win the Games for Cara. But Cara's story hasn't quite finished yet, and Alder's legacy as a loving brother will live on, and perhaps there is still hope for the Pierce family, the first in many years to break the noble volunteer streak for a truly noble cause. Thank you to both Marie464 and MeTheFanatic19 for Alder, if either of you ever see this, thank you for submitting him, it has been a pleasure to write his story.