Bloodbath

ASHTON FEKYU ('18')

DISTRICT SIX MALE

Ashton didn't know what to do.

"Should I grab a bag?" he mused, drumming his fingers nervously on his thigh. "But what if a Career's right next to me? Or maybe I should sprint away? But what if the arena's a desert?"

A voice in the back of his mind nagged at him, chastising him for only thinking this through now, when it was far too late. The tube was starting to rise, and the first glimpses of arena light came into view, bathing Ashton in a warm glow of fresh, orange hues.

"Crikey, it might actually be a fucking desert," he murmured, gritting his teeth as orange light continued to slowly but surely flood his tube. In the distance, beyond the metallic noises of the tubes, he could just ever so faintly make out a soft chirping noise, along with the gentle flutter of a wing.

Birds?

"Okay, maybe it's not a desert," he assured himself, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. "Or maybe it is a desert, but a special one."

"Ashton Fekyu!" his mother's voice screamed in his head, almost startling him to attention. "Focus, you fool!"

"Yes, Mom," he murmured, his mother's favourite three words repeating like a broken recorder as the tube continued to rise, snapping away at the last bits of distractions clamouring in his brain.

The Cornucopia was starting to come into view, a shiny, gleaming silver horn of plenty, twinkling under a dazzling orange sunset. Ashton frowned. No, it couldn't be sunset, not yet, at least. Sure, the hovercraft ride had been long, but he was pretty sure it hadn't even been lunchtime yet, let alone dusk. Yet there it was, glistening in the horizon beyond the Cornucopia, a golden solar being, slowly making its descent into the depths of the arena beyond. The sky was effused with the sun's golden rays, with purple and pink tones delicately intermingling with the warmer hues, painting the world above in a vibrant palette of colours like Ashton had never seen before.

Shame the sky in Six can't be so pretty, especially with all the pollution.

There was barely a sunset to be seen back home, barely a smidge of colour, barely a splash of vibrance in Six's skies, eternally blanketed with smog and dust.

At least Ashton's death would be beautiful.

But the sun was starting to disappear, not beyond the horizon, but rather, beyond his view, as the walls around him began to rise with his tube, shielding his view of the world- and tributes- beyond his line of sight. Two thick, metallic walls rose in two straight lines, spanning from the Cornucopia itself all the way to the shore behind him.

Wait, shore?

Ashton glanced down and to his horror, found himself perched precariously atop a sea of rampaging waves.

At least, his 'enclosure' contained rampaging waves.

Looking straight ahead, he managed to spot the 'enclosure' right across from his own, on the other side of the Cornucopia, where a tribute, he wasn't sure who, dressed in navy blue stood. Their little sea was much calmer, with crystal clear blue waters that were perfectly still, glinting magnificently in the sunshine.

Back in his own water hellhole, the murky waves danced with chaotic fervour, colliding and shattering with one another in a riot of violence. They thrashed and crashed against his pedestal, soaking his precious boots with their salty concoction. For all he knew, this could be a repeat of the Thirty-Fourth Games, and a leviathan would be waiting beneath the waves, ready to chomp him up as a delicious Ashton casserole.

He gritted his teeth.

This isn't fair.

Were the Games truly rigged against him? He was pretty sure, after all, that District Four tributes wore navy blue jackets, and they were by far the best swimmers in Panem. So how the heck did they get the calmest waves?

The last time this happened a Four kid won during the Bloodbath because Snow allegedly wanted to traumatise him.

Were they going for the same thing again?

Ashton bit his lip. His fate might've already been sealed, long before he was even Reaped. A wave of grief began to surge over him, leaving him to waddle in the misery of his incoming demise.

But was he really going to play their game?

Ashton turned and saw the shore behind him. The pedestal was around roughly the midpoint between the shoreline and the Cornucopia, and the water looked a little more shallow and less murky closer to the shore. Beyond the shoreline, he could see rows of trees stretching farther than the eye could tell, each with several little blue lamps hung on their branches.

If he could waddle his way over, he had a chance.

While he couldn't swim, he was hoping the chaos of the Cornucopia and the fact that the walls around each pedestal impaired the vision of other tributes, would buy him just enough time to make an escape. And after that, he figured that a forest, after all, must have at least some sustenance. This, he was desperately hoping, wouldn't be anything like Haymitch's arena.

"Tributes, welcome to the Fifty-Third Annual Hunger Games," a loud voice boomed from the Cornucopia's speakers. "Good luck and may the odds be ever in your favour."

A second voice, that of a chirpy young female, emerged, shrilly counting down from sixty to one. "Sixty, fifty nineeee…"

Ashton tried to calm his nerves.

This was it.

He turned away from the Cornucopia, staring boldly ahead at the shoreline. Preparing to dive into the waves below, he waited, silently praying the countdown wouldn't be so damn excruciatingly slow.

Yet, it seemed the Gamemakers were not quite done messing around with the tributes.

Suddenly, the world went dark. The bright orange sun, a mere fraction of a second ago illuminating the sky, vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving the arena trapped in pitch-black darkness.

All around him, Ashton could hear the screams and cries of startled tributes. He very nearly gave a loud yelp himself. "What the heck, did something go wrong?" he muttered, glancing around in confusion, trying to find any source of light to use.

It must be a power outage.

But the countdown didn't stop. In fact, the announcer seemed even more excited, her voice rising by a shrill octave. "Fifty-five! Fifty-four! Fifty-threeee!"

The ground began to tremble beneath Ashton's feet. Ashton wobbled, nearly tumbling off the slippery pedestal. "Alright, now what in tarnation-"

The pedestal rose, slowly moving to the left as it did so. Ashton cursed under his breath, crouching down and clinging to the sides of his pedestal for dear life, praying that he wouldn't suddenly find himself tossed straight into the waves once the countdown hit zero, or worse, right into the minefields.

Dawn, whoever you are, this better be part of your grand scheme, he thought silently, the letter he'd received that fateful night in the Capitol surfacing in his mind.

The pedestal finally stopped moving and began to lower itself, just as the countdown struck twelve. Ashton slowly clamoured to his feet, his shoes nearly slipping on the surface. He raised his arms to steady himself, his face contorting into an expression that couldn't exactly be described as glamorous. The pedestal came to a grinding halt, jerking backwards so suddenly Ashton tumbled, landing on his butt with a painful thud, though thankfully he was still on the pedestal.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!" the lady was practically singing out the countdown now. At that moment, a swarm of blue lights flickered from the shoreline. Ashton glanced back towards it and to his relief, the arena wasn't in total darkness after all. The blue lamps on the trees had lit up, illuminating the woods with a mystical luminescence. The air began to feel heavy as fog swirled around the trees, enveloping the forest with an aura of mystery. It was hauntingly beautiful, Ashton had to admit, though the blue lamps created an unsettling ambiance, the dark, twisted branches with their long shadows casting an eerie rhythm into the darkness. There was a foreboding sense that someone was in there, somewhere hidden in the foliage, watching him, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

The sun was gone, replaced by a blue moon that shone in the night sky, surrounded by a soupy mixture of clouds and fog. Ashton glanced down at the waves beneath him and to his amazement, the water was calm, almost perfectly still, the blue moon reflected beautifully in its shimmering surface.

A miracle, maybe?

"Five! Four! Three!"

Ashton took a deep breath. For a brief moment, he thought about making a mad swim to the Cornucopia to fetch some supplies. The forest looked a lot more barren now than before, much of its leaves and greenery seemingly vanishing into the darkness of the night. The shapes and silhouettes that danced around in the moonlight weren't exactly comforting signs either. Perhaps, this arena wasn't so reliable after all when it came to supplies.

But he wasn't stupid. That was what the Gamemakers wanted him to think, to second guess himself. He knew very well facing the elements was a lot better of an option than being dead in the Bloodbath because he'd gotten too cocky.

"Two! One!"

The gong rang.

Ashton plunged beneath the waves.

TAMSIN REID (18)

DISTRICT TWELVE FEMALE

Tamsin wished the water wasn't so cold.

She dove into the frigid waves with a thunderous splash, the sheer temperature drop causing shockwaves to ripple through her body. She let out a gasp, her teeth chattering as she did her best to paddle her way straight to the Cornucopia. The ice-cold water prickled against her skin, sending a numb sensation across her fingers.

Tamsin gritted her teeth, forcing her arms to keep swimming. Just like in a Twelve winter, she told herself. Keep going, keep going!

The waves slowed her down a little, though they weren't very strong and were mild at best, they still held her back. Tamsin had to exert just a bit more energy to power through, ounces of energy that could prove crucial later on once the chaos of the Bloodbath well and truly unfolded. For a brief moment, she tried to look back to see if Elris had made it to the shore, but she could only the faint silhouette of what she thought might be Ashton or Kieran dashing to the woods. The night before, she'd made sure to drill their game plan into Elris's head: he was going to run off and hide in the woods while she grabbed a few supplies for the Cornucopia. She'd hoped she could snag a few loose backpacks close to her pedestal, but that wasn't really an option now. Across her 'enclosure', she could see Maximon struggling against some pretty nasty waves, howling as a large surge of seawater nearly pulled him under. A smirk spread across her face. Well, at least the stronger swimmers were being held back. That bought her a little bit of time.

She finally reached the Cornucopia, her arms burning from the effort of swimming here.

Just a quick backpack, maybe a weapon if I'm lucky.

With a final huff, she hauled herself onto the smooth, slippery surface of the Cornucopia island, rolling awkwardly onto the ground to avoid an embarrassing slide back into the water. Crawling to her feet, she took a quick look around. There were several tributes already locked in combat, but none were anywhere near her. The two enclosures adjacent to hers were void of any tributes, so they must've either swum to the shore or were already fighting in the Cornucopia.

Good, no surprise attacks then.

She spotted a couple of backpacks not too far away from her and dashed towards them. Strapping them onto her back, she turned to search for a weapon. There were plenty right in front of her, she reckoned she could easily snag a few before making a quick getaway.

That's when she heard the scream.

Elris.

Her head swivelled around, trying to locate Elris. Finally, she spotted him, swimming furiously towards the shore in his enclosure.

And hot on his trail was none other than Quianna Rafferty.

Quianna tore through the water, quickly gaining ground on Elris, who was struggling to even stay afloat.

"Elris!" Tamsin screamed. She burst forward, ready to leap into the water to fend off Quianna herself. So what if she got hurt, heck, or even died? The mere thought of living with the trauma tore her to shreds anyway.

But before she could do anything else, behind her, someone screamed, "Out of the way, I've got this!"

Tamsin barely managed to duck before Evie Fawn fired an arrow straight at Quianna, a mischievous grin on her face.

Only the arrow didn't hit Quianna.

It his Elris right in his shoulder.

Tamsin let loose a guttural scream, wailing as Quianna pounced on the now helpless Elris, dragging him kicking and screaming beneath the waves.

Elris, no!

Beside her, Evie stared ahead, her jaw wide open in a silent scream of horror. Tamsin wanted to strangle Evie, to tear her limb from limb for shooting that damned arrow. She had it under control before that stupid girl decided to jump in and try to be a freaking hero!

Tamsin got ready to dive into the water to try and save Elris, but not before someone tackled her to the ground. A fist slammed straight into her chest, knocking the wind out of her. Tamsin gasped and yelped, thrashing as she tried to free herself from the clutches of Ronan Aquarius.

"Ugh, stay still!" he seethed, trying to grab her arms but she clawed against his wrists, drawing a streak of blood through his tan skin. "Don't make this harder than it has to be!"

Tamsin didn't care. She jerked her knee upwards, striking Ronan right in the groin. Ronan howled in pain as Tamsin boxed him in the ears, sending him crumbling to the ground. Quickly getting to her feet, she gazed in horror as Quianna held Elris under the waves with a vice-like grip, all the while staring calmly ahead, straight into Tamsin's eyes. A wicked sneer spread across Quianna's face. "Too late, Twelve."

It was as though the world had shattered right there and then.

Her heart pounded violently against her chest as the air grew thicker around her, choking her with a suffocating sense of horror. She gasped, trying to will any muscle in her body to move, but none responded. An icy grip had descended upon her, keeping her rooted in an apocalyptic world of chaos. Time seemed to slow, stretching the moment of Elris's dead body surfacing in the water into a long, agonising eternity. Her eyes wanted so desperately to look away but she couldn't, all she could see was Quianna cackling as she began to rip Elris to shreds, Tamsin's fixed gaze capturing every last grotesque detail in full clarity. She tried to scream, but it was stuck deep in her throat, coming out as nothing more than a strangled cry for help.

Elris…

She wanted to cry, she wanted to yell, she wanted to do anything but be Tamsin Reid, District Twelve female who'd just stood there and watched her best friend, her girlfriend's brother, the sweetest, most precious kid in the world die right in front of her.

She was pathetic.

"Come here, you little bitch!" Ronan growled, struggling to his feet as he clutched his ear. Tamsin shrieked and bolted off, but not before she swiped a little pocketknife from the ground. From the corner of her eye, she could see Evie trying to fend off Fleur.

Oh, Evie.

Tamsin wanted so badly to get into the action herself, to be the one who landed the killing blow on the girl who'd sealed Elris's fate. She was human scum to her, someone who deserved to be banished into the depths of hell.

But alas, Fleur got to her first. Evie tried to swing her bow at her, but Fleur grabbed Evie's wrist, leaving her core exposed. With a strong, almighty kick, she rammed Evie backwards, causing her to tumble over straight into a rack of swords. The girl from Ten could only let out a final, frightened cry for mercy as she lay there, a tribute from the butcher District now nothing more than a human skewer.

How ironic.

Fleur pushed Evie down, sending blood squirting all over the swords as Evie twitched and became limp, finally dead.

Tamsin's heart felt frigid cold, horribly numb even as she dove into an enclosure, one with crystal clear water free of any waves. Evie's demise had given her a short, cheap thrill but in truth? Tamsin felt horrible for even thinking to wish the girl such a horrible death.

"She was only trying to help", Elris would've said.

Tamsin squeezed her eyes shut, letting herself drown in the growing voice of Elris's ghost.

She was pathetic.

PHOENIX AVENA (17)

DISTRICT ELEVEN MALE

Phoenix knew this was a bad idea.

Rushing straight into the thick of things like a madman probably wasn't the smartest of Bloodbath strategies. But one look at the desolate forest behind him and Phoenix knew he had to go grab some supplies, even if it did mean he would have to risk his life.

He tore through the Cornucopia, backpack on his bag, trying to grab a blade or two for himself and Wisteria. Glancing over his shoulder, he managed to spot Wisteria wading across her enclosure, a fiery glare in her eyes as she fought against a torrent of some nasty-looking waves.

That couldn't be right.

Phoenix was pretty sure his enclosure had some tame waves at best, and he'd seen that to his left, Evie's enclosure had calm conditions too.

So why the heck had the Gamemakers decided to screw Wisteria over?

Even amidst the chaos, his mind briefly drifted to that strange little swimming test they were subjected to on the day of the private sessions. Phoenix, having had about as much experience with swimming as a tomato plant, obviously didn't do so well. In fact, he'd been inches away from drowning before the Gamemaker in charge of the test dumped a lifebuoy on him.

But Wisteria on the other hand, had learnt very quickly and powered through the challenge.

Was that why she got the harder waves?

Phoenix muttered a curse under his breath. Now he really needed a weapon, in case one of the Fours saw her struggling in the water and decided to pounce on her. After all, he hadn't exactly been oblivious to Elris's screams for mercy barely a minute ago.

Yikes, he seemed like a sweet kid, that's a terrible way to go, he thought to himself with a shake of his head. Poor Tamsin too, she looked awful.

Deciding he very much wanted to avoid a similar fate, he scanned his surroundings, peering through the darkness to spot a handful of slingshots, which weren't exactly going to come in handy against a powerful Career. There was a sword rack on his side of the Cornucopia, but alas, it had been emptied. Judging by the sword fight taking place between Alder and Alea, he had a feeling he knew who'd taken them first.

Just ahead of him though, he spotted a shiny, silver set of throwing knives.

Exactly what he needed.

Before he could make a charge for them, though, an unseen force pulled him to the ground, sending his body slamming hard against the wet, slimy Cornucopia surface. The impact jarred his senses, and all that went through his head was a million alarm bells screaming, "Oh, shit!" in unison as his assailant clawed at his bag.

Ithaca.

"What the heck!" he yelped, groaning as he tried to push her off of him but she raised her fist and sent it flying right for his jaw. His instincts took over and he dodged, narrowly avoiding the blow by mere nanometres. Pumped by adrenaline, he tried to knee Ithaca in the gut but she rolled over to the side, making another mad swipe for the straps of his backpack.

Oh, she's trying to steal my supplies, Phoenix's head finally registered.

"Gimme. That!" Ithaca seethed, grabbing the bag and trying to yank it away from Phoenix.

"How about no?" Phoenix shouted, turning over and landing a solid punch on her nose. She screamed, writhing in agony as blood began to drip out of her nostrils. Phoenix glanced at her jacket pocket and saw that she'd managed to grab a small set of cables from somewhere within the Cornucopia. "And I'm taking these too!" He ripped them away from her, wincing a little as she shrieked, her fingernails raking over his arm as she tried to claw it back from him. Phoenix simply moved them to his other hand and hurled them straight into an enclosure.

Ithaca howled. "You rotten swine!" But one look at Alder, who'd just emerged from his sword fight with Levi and was starting to notice them, and she decided to give it up and dive into the nearest enclosure. Phoenix too, ducked away from Alder, seeking refuge in the interior of the Cornucopia mouth so Alder wouldn't come for him. From the corner of his eye, he could see Levi tumbling onto the ground, clutching his leg (or what was left of it, that was, there was barely a stump) in agony as he desperately tried to crawl away from Alder. He squeezed his eyes shut for a quick second as Alder brought his sword down on Levi, the sickening slash of metal ripping through flesh smouldering itself into his memory.

Wouldn't want to end up like him.

He glanced to his right and to his delight, saw a sickle. Not the most ideal weapon in the world but hey, beggars couldn't be choosers. Scooping the golden blade up, he scoured the enclosures for Wisteria, but she was nowhere to be seen.

Is she already in the Cornucopia?

A bloodcurdling scream nearly pierced his eardrums and Phoenix, for a brief moment, almost saw a barely visible shadow of Levi's face from the corner of his eye.

But that's not possible, Levi's dead, he'd just seen it with his own eyes!

Phoenix staggered, trying to blink away what he hoped was a mere, one-time hallucination as a spear flung through the air straight at Totlen, who was down on the ground with blood oozing through his slashed leg. A bag of art supplies and paint canisters was clutched in his hand as he tried to use it to block the incoming spear, but it was all in vain. The silver tip pierced through the bag's fabric and lodged itself into Totlen's chest. It didn't take long for the poor kid's body to stop twitching and for his eyes to turn glassy.

Phoenix winced as he turned away from the scene. He hadn't really talked much to Totlen but the guy seemed nice enough.

One more tribute down, that's a good thing, right?

"Wisteria!" he shouted, silently hoping she'd already escaped the Bloodbath. His mind scuffled through the possibilities, refusing to believe that Wisteria's corpse lay among the few that had already dotted the Cornucopia.

"Phoenix!"

His mind switched to panic mode. Phoenix swerved to find Wisteria trying to fend off a fiery Alea, trembling as she shielded herself with a green backpack. Alea snarled, locking Wisteria's wrists in an iron-clad grip and aiming a kick to her gut. Alarm bells began to ring in Phoenix's mind as he charged towards her, sickle in hand, ready to ward off the girl from Five.

His head began to swirl. The world around him began to dim a little, curling into a spinning ball of faint, ebbing light. Something stung in his back, a sticky sensation that he couldn't quite wrap his mind around. Slowly, his fingers crept towards his upper back, his gaze transfixed on what he could vaguely tell was a screaming Wisteria. Was she in trouble, or worse still, in pain? Phoenix could hardly tell.

His fingers skimmed ice-cold metal.

Oh, shit.

It was as though an entire glacier's worth of iced water had been dumped on him.

"No, no…"

The blade in his back was pulled out, sending a rippling jolt of static electricity throughout his body. A burning feeling began to slowly course its way across his veins, an icy numbness hot on its trail. There was a slight ripping sound, like someone had just ripped a tough piece of fabric into shreds.

But it wasn't fabric.

It was his skin.

And Wisteria wasn't screaming because she was hurt.

She was screaming because he was.

Phoenix barely had the strength to glance around his shoulder, where Maximon Vulcan stood with a blood-tipped cutlass, an apologetic look seared across his face.

Then, he crumpled to the ground, the fight gushing out of his soul as he lay on his stomach, a tear sliding down his ashen cheek.

There were many, many screams and cries around him.

They faded into a slow, monotonous hum, dissolving into a thick, murky soup of noise. A white flash shot through whatever vision he had left, and the world went silent.

For the first time in his life, Phoenix Avena felt at ease.

24th: Elris Conroy (by Quianna Rafferty)

A/N: I planned this one right from the beginning, but I was so damn close to changing it. Elris is just a kid who you want to see survive, he's sweet and adventurous and wants only the best for the world, but ultimately, I just couldn't see him going any further here. Thank you so much to Remus98 for Elris, his relationship with Tamsin was incredibly fascinating to write about- and it will still be a major factor in Tamsin's time in the arena.

23rd: Evie Fawn (by Fleur Montgomery)

A/N: Evie, dear misunderstood Evie. She has, at times a good heart, but struggles to show it. A girl of many mistakes, she made the ultimate mistake in the end trying to help out. Her story's a sad one and she was a fun character to explore, becoming somewhat of a pantomime villain to the other tributes. Thank you so much to Gomex for Evie, even now her actions will still play a major role in deciding the outcome of the Games.

22nd: Levi Versace (by Alder Pierce)

A/N: Out of all of the Bloodbath deaths here, Levi was the closest to being swapped out and going further into the Games. A shy kid with a love for exploration and a blossoming relationship with the girl of his dreams back home, he unfortunately has met the end of his story here. Thank you so much to contemporarydancer2 for Levi, he's been a wonderful gem to write and those who knew him back home aren't going to take his death lightly at all.

21st: Totlen Miller (by Ronan Aquarius)

A/N: Totlen, poor Totlen. He just wanted to be accepted by others, to feel like he belonged someplace, even if that place was the Capitol itself. A creative mind that roared with artistic creativity, Totlen's initially promising premise of a camouflage expert faded soon after the gong rang. Thank you so much to cartierscrown for Totlen, I wasn't sure how to write him at first, but he grew on me as a character, and back home, his family isn't going to sit idly and let his passing be a mere footnote.

20th: Phoenix Avena (by Maximon Vulcan)

A/N: I did not want to do this. Seriously, I was sitting on the fence even as I wrote out Phoenix's death scene. His relationship with Wisteria was always an interesting little plotline that I could've explored more on, however looking at my cast of tributes, 20th on the first day was the only way I could work out his story. Thank you so much to matts0688 for Phoenix, he was a joy to write, and even after his demise, his legacy lives on in his family- and in Wisteria, who isn't going to sit by and let this slide.