Arena 'Night' 1

KIERAN ACHLYS (18)

DISTRICT SEVEN MALE

Kieran felt numb.

He shivered as he huddled underneath a tiny pile of leaves on the forest floor, shrouded from view by a string of thick, thorny branches he'd pushed his way through earlier that evening, leaving his skin covered in a tapestry of cuts.

A sight he was all too familiar with.

The world felt cold, colder than it had ever been. Perhaps it was his own mind playing tricks on him, but not even the frigid winters of northern District Seven had been this cold. Pulling the folds of his jacket together, he lay on the ground, trapped in solitary confinement with his thoughts for an endless night.

He wondered if there would even be a morning at all. The sun had set during the Bloodbath, or rather, vanished into thin air, but he wasn't sure if the bluish hues of moonlight would be the norm throughout the entirety of the Games.

Of course, he didn't imagine he would live to see the answer.

He'd fled the fray as soon as he could, managing to pick up a couple of berries while meandering his way through the forest foliage, though he wasn't too keen on eating them just yet before inspecting their juices.

But the screams.

He'd heard the boy from Twelve cry out in pain. What had his name been? Kieran didn't know, and likely would never know. The boy had been but a minute child compared to the towering Careers that had no doubt gotten to him first. By the looks of it, he'd been a much happier kid than Kieran had ever been. A bright kid with an undoubtedly bright future.

And yet, he was gone, and Kieran was still around, wallowing in his useless self.

The boy from Six had trudged past a while back, grumbling about having to 'fetch water for those girls'. Kieran assumed he meant Omega, Kieran's District partner, and the girl from Six. Omega couldn't go scouting for water by herself, that much Kieran was sure, she was far too incompetent of a tribute, so he guessed she'd sent the boy from Six to do her dirty work. But it was the boy's appearance that had caught Kieran's eye. Tattered, bruised, with blood trickling from a few too many cuts for Kieran's liking. He'd looked a horrific mess, and Kieran contemplated ambushing him in his moment of weakness. Then again, Kieran didn't have a weapon and he didn't like his odds of beating out the boy, regardless of his injuries. Upon closer inspection, Kieran had noticed the shuriken hidden in the boy's boots, which meant he already had the upper hand against Kieran.

"Kimi, mind sponsoring some bandages for her?" the boy had called out softly into the wind as he trudged away from Kieran's hiding spot. "Perhaps a blanket too?"

Her?

Was Omega injured? As much as Kieran hated that stupid girl, he had to admit, he wasn't exactly keen on seeing her get hurt. She had been nice to him, after all, which was more than the vast majority of this cruel world had offered him.

Kieran gritted his teeth. No, he couldn't afford to feel any sort of sympathy for her. Not in this forsaken arena.

A blue orb shimmered in the ground beside him. It was harmless, Kieran had trampled over it and tried to scoop it out of the ground to make sure of that. Holding his berries close to the orb, Kieran squished one of them, letting its velvet juices ooze into his palm.

Safe.

He popped the squished berry into his mouth and chewed gingerly, letting the succulent sweetness trickle down his throat. These were Nathaniel's favourite berries back home. He savoured every fleeting bite, but the berry was a small one, and soon, the taste dissipated from his mouth, leaving him yearning for more.

He had to save the rest for the coming days in the arena.

Footsteps squished against the grass, becoming louder with every step.

Kieran froze. He heard the boy from Six's murmurs, this time, they came with sloshes of water. Peeking out of his hiding spot, he spotted the boy carrying two large bottles of water, as he had been when he'd last passed by, only this time, they were filled to the brim with water.

There must be a river or lake nearby.

The shuriken still lay in his boot, but the boy's hands were full. He wouldn't be as quick to grab it.

Kieran, on the other hand, from his hiding spot, could.

He narrowed his eyes, concentrating on the boy as he edged closer towards him.

And then he lunged forward, hands outstretched, making a wild grab for the boy's boots.

The boy howled, trying to wrestle free but Kieran held firm. The boy lost his balance, coming crashing to the ground. Kieran swiped the shuriken from the boy's boot and hurled it at the snarling boy. A cold, metallic bile threaded up his throat as the sharp star nestled itself into the boy's abdomen. Blood squirted from the wound.

"Damn it!" the boy cried out, doubling over in pain. His face contorted with agony as he struggled to his knees, trying desperately to make a run for it.

Kieran realised the boy didn't know Kieran was unarmed. Seizing advantage, he rammed the boy in the back, pushing him into the ground. The boy screamed and Kieran imagined the shuriken must've lodged itself further into his stomach.

"Please, just, get off me!" the boy gasped but Kieran didn't care. He wasn't here to throw pity parties. He was here to win.

The boy whirled around to face him, swinging a dangerous fist at Kieran's face which he expertly dodged. Kieran kicked the boy in the shin, although this time it had little effect on the boy, who was starting to gain a bit more fighting adrenaline than Kieran had hoped for. The boy groaned as he pulled the shuriken out of his body and swung it at Kieran's face. The star-shaped weapon lightly grazed Kieran's cheek, failing to faze him. Cuts to the cheek were almost a routine occurrence for Kieran, the little scars on his face proved as much.

But this boy wasn't going to do any more damage. Only Kieran could inflict pain on himself, and he was about to show the boy just that.

Kieran tackled the boy back to the ground, unfurling a torrent of punches, kicks and slaps as he wrestled him into submission. The boy howled, kicking and screaming, but Kieran's grip was ironclad. He wrapped his fingers around his neck, trying to strangle the boy, but the boy had other ideas. His teeth sunk into Kieran's fingers.

"Argh!" Kieran yelped, pulling his hand back. That was a mistake. The boy broke free, pushing Kieran hard in the chest. Kieran stumbled, but he still managed to swing a punch at the boy who'd lunged forward. His fist made contact with the boy's ear and he crumbled to the ground, moaning in pain. Kieran continued to claw at his ear as he moved to try strangling him again, but the sound of voices caught his attention.

"Over there! I see them!"

The Careers.

The telltale, high-pitched voice of the girl from One cut through the blistering winds and Kieran knew he had to go. No matter, he'd dealt enough damage for today. Giving the boy a final punch to the gut and avoiding a series of kicks and jabs, Kieran grabbed his meagre supplies, the bottles of water, and fled the fray.

He didn't look back, fearing what he might see if he did.

FLEUR MONTGOMERY (17)

DISTRICT ONE FEMALE

Fleur felt excited.

She didn't particularly enjoy the killing part of the Games, but she absolutely loved the adventure. Being able to run freely across dark, mysterious woods, off to explore an uncharted arena and in pursuit of hidden enemies, this was straight out of her favourite folktales of brave adventurers and their escapades. Here, with her not-so-merry band of Careers, she felt like she could conquer the world.

And yet, she felt like the world could be snatched from her at any given moment.

Fleur was well aware of the cover the other tributes had in these dark woods, making ambushes far easier to pull off. She was also well aware of the abundance of traps that were no doubt lying in wait for them, set up by those lovely Gamemakers for tributes' enjoyment.

Still, she tried not to think about those as she wandered the strange woods, admiring the little fireflies and otherworldly neon butterflies dancing around the blue orbs. In the distance, she could hear the faint howling of wolves, but they seemed to be getting softer with every howl. Perhaps they were off to hunt down another tribute. It would, after all, be foolish of the Gamemakers to chase down the arena's star players on the first day of the Games.

Was it still the first day?

Fleur could hardly tell. Time was difficult here, and she worried it would soon start to mess with their minds. The moon stood steadfast and strong, and yet Fleur felt as though it had already been hours since that Bloodbath.

Maybe it was still nighttime, but Fleur had been expecting the sun to rise for a while.

Then again, she wasn't exactly the best with time management, and Alder had told her he was sure dawn would soon be upon them, so maybe she was just being a little too paranoid.

Suddenly, her ears perked up.

A boy's scream rang through the night. It was a little distant, but it was there. A loud grunt soon followed, a human one, not that of a mutt. A smile twitched at Fleur's lips as she glanced at Quianna, who already bore a cryptic grin. "You know what that sounds like."

And so they were off, charging through the dense trees, their swords slicing through loose branches and vines and anything that lay in their wake as they ran in pursuit of the tributes.

Maybe they were in the middle of a fight. Fleur figured it would be nice if not a little rude to crash in on their little party and steal the show. But by the end of tonight, she wanted at least one more kill chalked down to the Career pack.

With their speed and agility, it didn't take long for the scene to come into view. Dark silhouettes writhed in the distance, seemingly in the midst of a brawl. "Over there! I see them!" Fleur exclaimed, whipping out her rapier.

"They're mine!" Quianna roared, pummeling ahead as the spearhead of the pack's attack. One of the figures stood up and ran off, and as they drew closer, Fleur caught a glimpse of Kieran's dark hair fleeing the clearing.

But there, lying bloody and bruised, was Ashton.

His face turned paler than the moonlight as the Careers encircled him, weapons at the ready. "No, please, I can be helpful, I-"

"Save it, Ashton," Ronan murmured. "Your pining hurts my ears."

Fleur examined him. His left ear was a mangled mess of blood and dirt, barely recognisable as a body part under Ashton's cupped palm. His trousers were soaking wet, as though he'd soaked them in a river.

Maybe there is a river not too far away from here, or at least a water source.

Fleur knew tributes tended to flock to such places, making them the ideal base camp for the Careers. "Is there a body of water anywhere near here?" she asked, marching up towards Ashton. Swirling her rapier ever so close to his face, she gave him a little wink. "I suggest you answer truthfully, if you want any hope of surviving this little encounter."

Ashton paused, silent for a moment, as though he'd fallen for her deceit. Then, he gave a low hiss and spat at her feet. "Never."

Fleur rolled her eyes. Typical District Six idiot, these druggies have the combined intelligence of a dying seagull. "Weren't you just saying a minute ago how you could be helpful and all that nonsense?" she mocked, wagging her rapier at his nose.

Ashton narrowed his eyes. Shrugging slightly, he raised his chin and with what Fleur thought was a laughable attempt at a confident voice, proclaimed, "Well, since you lot weren't going to hear me out, I figured I'd stop trying to save my own skin and just accept my damn fate. If I'm going down, I don't want you rich nepo babies to benefit."

Fleur grimaced slightly, though she maintained her regal composure.

Nepo babies.

She'd been called that plenty of times before. Heck, she'd heard Alder's family use that word when she first came over to their house back when they were kids. It was like a dirty rash she could never get rid of, a term that was almost synonymous with her family name.

And truth to be told, she indeed was a byproduct of nepotism. And perhaps a victim of it too, considering here she was, so apathetic towards this boy she was about to kill so mercilessly. And for what, being roped into a game he didn't want to play?

Stop that, she steeled herself. You're here to win, just like your Aunt Crystal. And Franc. And Geneva. And all the others. You're not a bad person, you're just doing this so you'll get a whole lot of freedom in the long run.

"Make it quick then," Ashton implored.

Quianna snorted. "You disrespected us, why should we be so kind to you?" She gave him a thumping kick on the back of his head. Ashton groaned as he tumbled to the ground, a large lump slowly beginning to form underneath his shock of hair. Fleur watched as Quianna drew a knife from her backpack and placed it just above Ashton's abdomen. "I'm going to have so much fun with you, you wee little bastard."

Ashton howled, suddenly lashing forward as he tried to make a desperate grasp for survival. He swung his fist, managing to catch Quianna off guard and landing a good blow on her jaw. Quianna let out a bloodcurdling screech, which in hindsight was somewhat hilarious. She had such a delightfully melodic scream that girl, so wonderfully similar to that of a three-year-old. But in the heat of the moment, Fleur wasted no time in slashing her rapier, stabbing Ashton's palm. The force of her blade viciously struck bone, letting out a gush of blood. Ashton cried out, now well and truly defeated. Fleur didn't take her chances though, she moved to pin him to the ground. Alder did likewise, while Ronan and Maximon looked on from a slight distance away, a rather grave look on both their faces.

But now, the spotlight was squarely on Quianna.

And by the time Ashton's cannon boomed through the forest, Fleur had a feeling the audience was well and truly satisfied with Quianna's performance.

19th: Ashton Fekyu (by Quianna Rafferty)

A/N: I initially had him going much further into the Games, but eventually decided this would be his end. I honestly feel like I could've done a lot more with his character and that had things gone differently, he would've been a solid Victor with his plans for the District. A genuinely kind guy who wants the best for his fellow Sixes, he's had the short end of the stick plenty of times and ultimately, stumbling upon Kieran would prove to be his downfall. Thank you to Pacecca for Ashton, it's been fun writing him, and I promise his legacy won't simply fade with his demise, but that's a story for later...