District 4 male - Luderick Bellamy, 14

There was more silence after the deaths of the Career girl and the boy from six and the girl from five. I suppose that since there were three deaths in one night of three quite powerful tributes, the game makers decided to let there be calm after the storm.

I felt oddly safe during the seventh day because of the fact that there'd be a calm after the storm had occurred to me, and I was correct. I'd spent most of the day fishing, more, and more, unable to stop. I loved fishing and this river was incredible - I got even more catches than I did in District 4. The river seemed to have an endless supply of fish, each one more vibrant and lively than the last. I could feel the tension of the Games momentarily melting away as I focused on the rhythmic cast and reel of my fishing line.

I did feel bad, though, looking at my fishing rod. When the gas had sent me into an awful, hysteric panic I'd hit Arnold across the head with the rod, knocking him out. The gas had passed after an hour, and Arnold came to. Surprisingly, he hadn't gotten annoyed at me for it, he just said he understood and it was OK. But more surprisingly, I was feeling myself gain some sort of respect for Arnold.

I know, a poor tree boy. He wasn't as bad as I'd initially thought.

I somehow slept in on the eighth morning, and I felt relaxed. I was in the top six - what could possibly happen to me now? When I woke, Arnold was doing something to one of the fish I'd caught. He'd already chopped it up and removed the bones, and now he was lathering something onto it.

"Morning," he said. His sleeves were rolled up and he was fully massaging some sort of paste into the meat of the fish. It was a little disturbing, the amount of effort he was putting into it. He worked with an intense focus, that almost bordered on obsession - he looked like he was in love with that fish. "I'm making you breakfast - this paste is a blend of herbs and spices I found nearby. Thought it might make the fish more flavourful because I've decided I'm not a fan of plain fish."

"Where did you learn to cook?" I asked him. This was the second time he'd insisted on making some fancy food, and I wondered how such a poor person from a poor district would know how to cook.

Arnold shrugged, but I could tell he was proud. "Parents' restaurant. Before it got shut down. We used to experiment with different flavours all the time."

"It smells amazing," I admitted, inhaling the rich, fishy, savoury scent.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Thanks. Figured we could use a decent meal."

As he continued to work, I couldn't help but stare at the fish and take in the precision of his movements. Every stroke, every single thing he did was so deliberate. It made me feel safe - reinforcing this sense of security I had from being in the top six.

"How did you sleep?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"Surprisingly well," I replied. "I guess the calm day helped."

"Good," he said, not looking up. "You'll need your strength. We're in the top six now."

That made my stomach drop. I wanted to feel safe, not like I needed to be strong because something bad could happen. To get my mind off it, I watched as he finished preparing the fish, carefully wrapping it in large leaves before placing half of it in front of me.

"Let's eat," he said, sitting down beside me. I took a bite of the fish and it was better than any of the plain raw fish we'd had over the past few days.

"You're really good at this," I told him, honestly. "Cooking, I mean."

Arnold shrugged again, but I could see the obvious pride in his eyes. "It's what I love. Keeps me grounded."

"Fair enough," I said, "I feel that way with swimming - it keeps me grounded."

Arnold nodded, and I finished my breakfast, and then he stood up. "Let's go for a walk."

"Are you not going to have any?" He hadn't even touched his bit of fish.

"I'm saving it for later, I've got a bit of an upset stomach at the moment," he said, and I stood up to walk with him.

We started down a narrow path that wound through the summer rainforest, the hot, morning sunlight coming down at us, and I could feel it burning my skin already.

I felt a sense of ease as we walked, and Arnold was talking about different types of fish he used to cook, the best ways to prepare them, and how to make the most of what we could find in the wild. Not that either of us knew how to properly hunt, but it was a nice thought.

It wasn't until we were about an hour into our walk that I began to feel a strange sensation in my stomach. At first, I dismissed it as just a bit of indigestion. But as the minutes went by, my discomfort grew into a dull ache.

"Hey, Arnold," I called out, trying to keep my voice steady. "Did that paste have any sort of weird District Seven stuff in it? My stomach can't handle too much poor people stuff…"

Arnold glanced back at me, his expression unreadable. "No, everything was all natural. Why do you ask?"

I forced a smile. "Just making sure. I think I must have eaten too much fish."

He nodded, not seeming particularly concerned. "Probably. Let's keep going."

We continued walking, but the ache in my stomach started to spread across my body. My muscles felt heavy, and I struggled to keep up with Arnold's pace. My mouth grew dry, and my vision began to blur at the edges. I tried to shake it off - I must just be stressed from the games. But I wasn't stressed - I felt safe. I knew something was wrong. Had we walked into the gas again?

"Arnold, I need to rest for a bit," I said, my voice weaker than I intended. "Feeling a bit off."

He turned to me, his eyes showing a flicker of something—concern? Amusement? I couldn't tell. "Sure, let's take a break."

We sat down on a log, and I leaned forward, my head in my hands. The pain in my stomach was intensifying, and cold sweat was all over my forehead. It was getting hard to sleep for some reason.

"What's happening to me?" I murmured, more to myself than to Arnold.

He didn't, simply watching me with a blank face. I tried to catch his eye, hoping for some sort of reassurance, but he just looked away from me, staring into the distance.

The hours dragged on, and my condition grew worse, somehow. The pain in my stomach turned into sharp, agonising cramps, and my skin felt like it was on fire, but I was shivering uncontrollably. Once we were walking again, it was harder than normal, and I found myself stumbling, unable to keep my balance.

"Arnold," I gasped, clutching my stomach. "I think... there's something wrong with me, I don't know…"

He finally looked at me, his expression neutral, and then he was grinning. "You feel like you've been… poisoned?"

I struggled to respond to him, my mind foggy with pain, but it was all coming to me now, like pieces of a puzzle clicking together. "The fish... the paste... it must've been..."

Arnold chuckled softly. "Aw, poor Ricky." He did a mock sad face, which felt like a punch to the gut. Did he really poison me? Or was he just messing with me? I couldn't tell. My thoughts were all muddled, and my vision was darkening.

The sun was beginning to set, somehow, I'd been in this state, in pain, all day long. I could feel my strength slipping away, my body weakening with every passing minute. The cramps turned into waves of nausea, and I fell to my knees, retching violently.

Arnold stood by, watching with a detached curiosity. "You should try to drink some water," he suggested, almost as if he were offering advice to a stranger. Almost as if this wasn't his fault. He knew nothing could help me now

"There's no water anywhere, Arnold," I croaked, reaching out to him. "Please... help me..."

He stepped back, just out of reach from me. "There's nothing I can do," he said calmly. "You need to rest. Maybe it'll pass."

But we both knew it wouldn't. The poison was working its way through my blood, my veins, everything, touching my organs, killing me. It was a burning, searing pain that consumed my entire body from the inside out and I just wanted it to end at that point - take me out of my misery.

It took another hour and the sun to fully set before I collapsed to the ground, my body spasming, my vision fading slowly to black. It hurt so, so, bad, I couldn't deal with it.

Arnold knelt beside me, his lips twisted in a cruel smile and I hated him. I hated him and every other person outside of District Four because I never should have trusted him or anyone else and now I was dying and it was all going to be gone forever and I'd never be the mayor and I'd never see my friends or my girlfriend or my parents ever again.

"Goodbye, Luderick," he whispered, his voice emotionless.

And then there was nothing but darkness, and the pain was gone.

District 12 male - Zevran Karras, 18

I heard a cannon go off as Janusz and I were eating some of the last of the rations I had for dinner, and it startled me. I'd been counting the cannons since I arrived in the arena, and that was the nineteenth cannon which meant -

"I hope that was whoever killed Dania," said Janusz, a little sadly. He'd been a little upset when he'd seen that the girl from two had died when her name and face were shown in the sky, and I hadn't understood - he had fought with that girl a lot and tried to kill her himself, but somehow he had been a little sad over her death. But I supposed some people actually cared about others.

As Janusz looked up at the sky, I could see the sadness in his eyes. I felt bad for the guy. He'd had a hard life, with the stuff with his parents, and whatever traumatic experience killing Phoenix had reminded him of, and he was just sad yet so full of life, and yet he was going to die and his lively eyes would just be dead.

The arena was eerily quiet the only things I could hear were the faint rustling of the trees and the snowflakes pitter-pattering onto the ground. I focused on Janusz, not able to shake my sympathy. We were in the top five and there would be a fight soon - the game makers would make sure of that. They wouldn't let us all stay separated for much longer. Janusz was strong and I knew he'd do well in a battle - he had experience in this kind of thing. So did I, but in a way, he had more. I was more skilled in the element of surprise, not a battle where everyone could see everyone.

And I didn't want to face Janusz in a battle, because I knew how it would end - with me either shot or stabbed, my blood on his hands.

"We need to stay focused," I told him, fighting to keep any hint of fear out of my voice, which I managed with ease. I was brilliant at hiding my emotions. "Only five of us left. Any idea where the others might be?"

Janusz's gaze shifted from the sky to me, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I suppose they're probably hunkered down, waiting for the right moment. The game-makers tend to shake things up at this stage. They wouldn't want the end to be too predictable."

I shuffled towards him, keeping my expression neutral. "You're right. And that means we need to be ready for anything. We can't let our guard down, especially not now. So you need to stop pondering on your parents and your past allies and focus on the fight ahead."

"I am focusing on the battle ahead," he said, a tone of annoyance in his voice, and I realised I'd made him think I was doubting him. It was the opposite, really.

Janusz took his final bite of his food, then looked around us, as if hoping he'd see another tribute somewhere. He was distracted, and that was exactly what I needed. I reached into my bag, my fingers brushing against the cool metal of the knife I had kept hidden. It was a small, simple weapon, but it had served me well.

And it was about to serve me well again.

In the moment he looked away, my knife was out, and in one quick motion, I lunged forward. The blade pierced Janusz's body in one swift blow. He gasped, his eyes locking onto mine with a mixture of betrayal and disbelief. I swallowed, pulling the knife out of his body.

I took in a breath and pulled the bottom of the sleeping bag away from him, then watched as he fell out of the tree, his body hitting the ground with a soft thud, blood splattering onto the snow.

I heard a cannon and let out a long breath. Janusz was dead, and my plan had gone exactly the way I wanted. I'd fooled him into thinking I cared, he was a backup for me if I got attacked, and now he was out of the way.

In some way, it felt like killing Janusz was me completing my job in killing Vang like I wouldn't have to worry about that anymore. But that was something to worry about after the arena. Because Vang wasn't my responsibility if I didn't get out of this arena alive. And I was so close because there were only three other tributes in here right now that needed to die to ensure my win.

The cold air seemed to grow sharper, and it was so silent that I could hear that awful ringing sound in my ears. I was sitting there, perched up, ready for anything. I knew the final confrontation was coming at any moment now, and the silence was unsettling. I began to prepare myself for the inevitable chaos that the game makers would unleash. It could be in minutes, hours, days, even. However long the Capitol was willing to wait, I knew it would be unexpected. After all, they needed to create a dramatic finish, something to keep the audience on the edge of their seats.

As I cleaned Janusz's blood from my knife, I heard a low rumble echoing through the arena, barely audible at first but slowly growing louder. I frowned, scanning the surroundings and clenching the handle of my now clean knife. The trees seemed to shudder, their branches creaking as if a way to warn me of danger.

Without warning, the ground beneath me trembled violently, and I gripped the branch of the tree. Snowflakes flew into the air as if propelled by some unseen force. I stumbled, trying to maintain my balance, but the shaking grew more intense. The entire arena seemed to be quaking, the trees swaying like they were in the grip of a powerful storm.

And then, an avalanche struck.

Snow cascaded down from the cliffs above, making a roaring sound that was deafening, coming from the edge of the arena and straight towards me. The snow was burying everything in its path, a massive white wave of destruction that covered the ground and swallowed the trees. My heart pounded in my chest as it hit the tree I was in, and I went flying - being launched forward, flying, flying, flying, until I landed hard on the snow. I didn't even have time to look back before I began to sprint.

I was running faster than I'd ever run, sprinting, panting, a pulse beating deafeningly in my ear, and I heard trees around me shuddering and snapping under the weight of the snow, and I ran faster, trying to even out my breathing, a large branch landing next to me and I kept running until the snow hit me.

It hit so hard that for a moment I thought I was dead, my vision blurred, I was dazed, and all I could see was white, the snow, all around me, debris from trees, and dead animals, and I struggled to move, being swept away by the snow, and then, suddenly, I was at the cornucopia again and out of the winter section and safe from the avalanche and I felt so tired and I wanted to sleep but I couldn't, I was Zevran Karras and stay awake and stay on your feet and hide in the shadows and kill.

I looked straight ahead, and only one thought went through my head.

This is it, Zevran.

6th place - Luderick Bellamy (D4M), poisoned by Arnold during day 8

5th place - Janusz Kurczak (D10M), killed by Zevran during day 8