Chevre Kanaf-Kaziol, 16
District Ten, She/Her
June 16th, 97 ADD
12:03 PM
Everything hurt.
Her head still throbbed. Her right knee was in agony, and she couldn't bear to put weight on the leg. Half her fingers were swollen past function, and two were so crooked she couldn't look at them without feeling dizzy. The cuts Bastet had carved into her legs were fire-hot, and so were the ones on her face. She was sure a few ribs were cracked from when Bastet started kicking, because every breath ached.
And she'd talked. She'd told Bastet what they wanted to know.
(How, between her head and her knee and her fingers, was there room for more pain?)
She- she'd just wanted it to stop. It all hurt so badly, and Chevre genuinely feared that her body wouldn't be able to take any more. So she'd told Bastet the truth, and then she'd screamed it. But it didn't make a difference. Bastet hadn't stopped. Chevre wasn't sure they'd even heard her.
So Chevre ended up broken anyway.
(She was fucked. She was completely fucked now. Getting Bastet to stop had been her only chance, and it didn't work. There was no way she could survive this arena, not in this condition. There was no more escape. She would die here. She'd become another face lost to the Games, forgotten by Panem next week and by her own district a month later.
It was easier to stay lost in the fog of pain than to remember that.)
A hand brushed her shoulder. Chevre opened her bleary eyes to see- to her great relief- someone who was not Bastet.
Instead, the Four girl crouched next to her. "I have water," she said quietly, her expression almost comically worried. Chevre let the girl pour some water into her mouth, swallowing with a grimace.
Tisiphone hesitated. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "About all that. They- they weren't supposed to do that."
Chevre stared back at Tisiphone, taking a moment to process the other girl's words. "Then why didn't you stop them?" she asked.
She knew she was guilt-tripping her, and from Tisiphone's face, she knew it worked. She was in too much pain to care.
(Honestly, if she really was fucked, there was no reason not to play every card she had.)
"They're fighting over you, you know," she said, her voice dull even to her own ears.
Tisiphone frowned. "What?"
"The other two."
"How do you-"
"I'm not stupid," Chevre said. "Invincible was right. Can't make it this far by being a total idiot."
"...Oh. Okay."
"It makes sense," Chevre said. "That they'd fight. Three of you now- don't wanna be on the wrong side of that split, and those two argue too much to team up against you. You're easier to work with, I bet. And deadlier. Got more ghosts, don't you?"
Four's frown deepened.
"Choose wisely," Chevre drawled, in a way that reminded her of Jem. "Bastet's pretty nasty. Mercury was right about that. Though I wouldn't want to be left with someone who's invincible, either… ha, ha…"
"Why are you telling me this?" Four asked dubiously.
Chevre didn't feel like answering that. She changed the subject. "Why'd you kill True like that?" she asked, her gaze shifting toward the ghosts at Four's shoulders. "She was really cool. She didn't deserve that."
Tisiphone flinched. "That wasn't me," she said. "That- that was someone else. I was trying to put an end to it."
"I guess that's noble," Chevre muttered. "I liked her, though… even though she was really bad at Go Fish. Hard to be bad at Go Fish, y'know, but she managed. She just always got so flustered. Easy to figure out which cards she had."
"You played Go Fish in the arena?"
"No," Chevre answered, "in the apartments. You wouldn't consider doing the same for me though?"
"The same?"
"Like you said," Chevre replied. "Put an end to it. You did it for True."
Tisiphone stared at her. "But-"
"She's gonna drag it out," Chevre stated, her voice flat. "Let me bleed out, or let something get infected, or maybe I'll starve. I told you I'm not stupid. I know I'm not getting out of here. And you helped True in the same way. Bit of a no-brainer, even."
Tisiphone studied her for a long moment. "You're giving up?"
"I know when I've lost," Chevre said. "And everything hurts, and that I'd really rather not have my family watch while Bastet does something even more fucked up. Look, I know you don't want to piss Bastet off, but there's still half an arena left. I bet you have better things to be doing than whatever this is. What about all those tributes we haven't seen in a week? You seen the Sevens, or Eleven and Twelve? I haven't."
"Eleven's dead," Tisiphone replied.
Chevre was past caring. "You get my point. End it now. Let me go."
Another voice interrupted them before Tisiphone could answer. "How long does it take to wake her up, Tiss?"
"Maybe it would be faster if she was in better shape," Tisiphone replied.
"What's happening?" Chevre asked. "Do it before she starts again-"
But Tisiphone shook her head. "We're leaving. We're going back to the Cornucopia," she said. "And we're taking you with."
"Wait," Chevre said. "I can't walk."
"Vince will carry you," she replied.
Chevre started panicking. "There's no reason to take me anywhere," she said. "Just end it!"
"I think they want to lure the others out," Tisiphone said apologetically.
The One tribute walked up. "Alrighty," they said. "Now should we do this piggyback, or…?"
Tisiphone drew back, and Chevre was overtaken by despair again. There could be no good reason to drag her all the way to the Cornucopia. Nothing good required live bait.
After a few minutes, they got her settled in Vince's arms. It was nice to be off the floor, though her hands were still tied and her knee jolted every time Vince took a step. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to brace herself.
Bastet held the door open for them. "Off we go," they said, much too pleased for Chevre's liking.
Chevre looked at Tisiphone, begging her to do something. Tisiphone didn't meet her gaze.
When they arrived back at the Cornucopia, Vince eased her back to the ground, with Tisiphone's help. Tisiphone then held onto her as though she could run anywhere, though they both knew she couldn't. She was leaning on the Four tribute heavily, trying to keep her right leg completely off the ground. It was an effort not to let her head loll on their shoulder, too. Meanwhile, Invincible slipped away, looping around the back of the Cornucopia.
Bastet stepped forward. "Nine!" she shouted. "We brought you a present!"
The nearest door to the Cornucopia swung open a few seconds later, and a bruised Jem appeared in the gap.
"What are you-" he stopped. His dark eyes locked with Chevre's, and Chevre watched every last bit of bravado fade from him. His brows rose and his lips parted as Jem Piper was, for once, rendered speechless.
(It was perhaps the first time Chevre had seen him look seventeen.)
"It's a trade," Bastet said gleefully. "You for her."
After her day with Bastet, Chevre didn't believe that proposition for a minute.
Jem was still staring at Chevre. "What did you do?" he breathed, so quietly Chevre could barely hear it.
"We needed information," Bastet replied.
"And you got it?"
"Plenty," Bastet said.
"Jem," Chevre said, rushing her words so Bastet couldn't silence her, "it's bullshit. Don't trade. It's fake and I can't win anyway. Don't ruin your odds for me-"
Bastet thrust her fist into Chevre's ribcage, forcing the air from her lungs. Chevre gasped, her words winking out like fireflies in her throat.
"Stop!" Jem shouted.
"Make the trade, then," Bastet jeered.
Tisiphone shifted, looping an arm around Chevre's shoulders to keep her upright.
Meanwhile, she forced herself to think through the fog.
(She'd already betrayed Jem once, hadn't she? Even if Bastet hadn't heard her confessions, Chevre had spilled. It could still be used against them in the future by one of the other two. Her chance was gone, but Jem's? Jest's? Tomo's? She couldn't ruin that. She couldn't let her last act be a desperate betrayal.)
(Chevre Kanaf-Kaziol had always lived in the in-between. Between her moms' caution and her desire to run free. Between Ten's gangs. Now, between her alliance and her captors.
Chevre was so tired of living in the in-between. Sixteen years was more than enough. There was no more self-interest to prioritize, nothing to gain from staying in the middle and playing both sides.)
(All she had was her friends.
It wasn't enough to save her, but it was enough.)
She gasped, filling her lungs with as much air as her ribs would tolerate, and let her words spill out one more time. "Jem, Vince is sneaking around back right now to ambush you, don't make the trade or they'll kill us both, she's insane you have to run now. Run-!"
White-hot pain erupted in her throat. She gagged, then began to choke. Blood filled her mouth, thick and metallic, and spilled over her lips. She could hear people shouting, boots pounding against earth. Tisiphone's arm left her shoulder, and she crumpled like a wilting flower.
It was mercifully quick, likely because she didn't resist. She let her eyes roll back and the darkness wash over her. She let the ache of her broken bones fade away. She let the blade in her neck remain.
I hope they run far, far away from here.
(Then she fled, too.)
Jest Valencia, 18
District 5, He/Him
12:25 PM
Jest stared at the ceiling. Laying in the Cornucopia with nothing to do- nothing he could do- besides be in pain had gotten old quickly. Tomo distracted him with conversation sometimes, and Jem checked in every hour or so, but otherwise, it was Jest and his thoughts and the aching tear in his stomach.
(He kept replaying his fight with the Two girl. He should've been faster. He should've stopped her from taking Chevre. He should've fought smarter and anticipated her tricks. It was a familiar refrain- how many times had Jest been held back by his inability to do anything but throw a punch? He wasn't smart enough to save Jori, and now he wasn't smart enough to save Chevre. It was repeating all over again.)
(And he was terrified of what they were doing to her. He couldn't wrap his head around why they would take her like that. It had occurred to him for a brief, awful moment that maybe she'd been working with them all along, but then he remembered how desperately she'd come running to his aid. He didn't believe that. She'd worked so hard in their alliance and she… she was his friend.
It had been so long since he had one of those. That's what she was, though, and he knew it because he wanted her to come back. He missed the glint in her eye when she got an idea, and how carefully she thought through everything. The absence of her warm smile and odd, overcautious flutters of movement was noticeable. It made the whole camp feel duller.)
(So, too, did Jude's absence. He couldn't think about Jude for long, and none of them spoke of the small Eight boy. Jest had gotten used to Jude's unassuming presence, and how the kid was so stealthy that they startled Jest at least once a day.
Jest was glad he didn't see what happened to them. The bloodstains in the crooks of Jem's arms said well enough.)
(Jude was dead. Chevre was gone. And there was Wisdom, and True… and Jest hated it. He hated all of it. He was torn from home- the only place he ever wanted to be- and when he finally managed to make a friend, they were ripped away, too? Because they took a risk, and refused to play the Games with the odds they were given? Jest had long known the world was unfair, so why did that unfairness feel so fresh every time?)
(Unsettled, he tried to think about Chase instead. Tomo told him that neither she or Fleur were in the sky the last two nights. He hoped she was doing better than he was. That made him think about how badly he was doing, which he couldn't think about for long- couldn't admit to himself- so he forced his thoughts elsewhere again.)
(He hoped Jiddana and Divvy and Ma were okay. They had enough saved that Jiddana should manage okay for a while, and Jiddana was smart; she'd figure it out. And his Mentor told him that even if he died, his family would get some money. It wouldn't be as much as he brought home with all his bouncer and security guard work, but it would be something.
But he couldn't think like that. He had to go home. He had to make sure he didn't go on vacation like Jori, didn't leave an unspoken absence like Jori.)
(Not that it was Jori's fault. Jori only had Jest to rely on while his body deteriorated. Jest remembered how his twin brother had wasted away in that bed, how… how upset he'd been with Jori for accepting it.
They fought, right before the end. It felt weird to have such an intense fight with someone who couldn't sit up by himself, but they managed. Jest didn't want Jori to leave, to stop needing him, to push him away; Jori didn't want to be coddled and babied and told what to do. They'd forgiven each other in the end. Then Jori died, and Jiddana had Divvy, and Jest had to pull himself together for someone else who needed him.
And here he was now. Staring at the ceiling while his whole body hurt, and unable to do much else. Helpless.
…Huh.)
He was so deep in his own head that it took him a moment to register a pair of voices at his side. "They're going to come back," Jem was saying. "We just don't know when. I honestly thought it would be yesterday."
"What are we supposed to do then?" Tomo asked, his eyes wide. "Maybe we should just leave now and hide somewhere. Then they can't find us."
Jem's eyes dropped toward Jest, and Jest felt warmth rise to his cheeks. "No," Jem said. "We have to stay together. Without Jest, we'd all be dead already."
(He- he was a liability, a burden to them.)
(God, Jori, I'm so sorry if I ever made you feel this way.)
"So we have to fight?" Tomo asked, his voice higher than normal.
"Yes," Jem replied, giving Tomo a look.
"What about the thing Chevre made?" Tomo asked.
Jem grimaced. "I… I don't know exactly what it is. Or how to use it."
"But she told us that Wisdom said to use it in emergencies. This is an emergency."
Jem shook his head. "You know how Wisdom was. Whatever that thing is, it could easily kill us before it hurts the Careers at all."
"I agree," Jest rumbled. Chevre had spoken briefly of it the night she'd finished making it, whatever it was, and she'd been a bit too apprehensive about it for Jest's liking.
"There. It's decided," Jem said. "We fight."
"We'll die!" Tomo said.
"We've made it this far," Jem said. "We've fought them before. And we have no other choice-"
A new voice interrupted them. "Nine!"
He recognized that voice. Jest stopped breathing.
"We brought you a present!" Two continued.
Jem grabbed his sword and bolted for the door. Tomo got to his feet. Jest's mind raced. We didn't hear a cannon, Chevre can't be dead-
"Come on," Tomo said. "I'll help you up."
Jest took a deep breath, then allowed Tomo to help him first sit, then stand. Every time he moved, a lance of pain tore through his stomach, taking his breath away again. He didn't have time for that, so he kept forcing himself up, ignoring the pain and the sweat beading at his temples.
Jem and Two were still talking. "Stop!" Jem shouted. Jest could only see the sides of his ally's face, but whatever was happening outside, it was bad. His eyes were round and his nostrils were flared and he looked- he looked afraid.
"Give me a weapon," Jest muttered.
Tomo obliged, pressing a spear into Jest's hands. Jest held it tightly, using it to help him balance as he braced himself for what was surely to come.
Then he heard Chevre's voice, hoarse but clear. "Jem, Vince is sneaking around back right now to ambush you, don't make the trade or they'll kill us both, she's insane you have to run now. Run-!"
Her voice cut off with a choke. "No!" Jem screamed. "Chevre-"
Tomo was pale. He grabbed Jem's shoulder. "We have to go-"
Boom.
Jest's heart dropped.
"Chevre!" Jem cried. He surged forward, but Jest was faster this time- he grabbed the back of Jem's shirt and shoved him toward a different door.
(There was no time for bullshit. He couldn't kid himself anymore.)
He looked at Tomo. "Run," Jest told him. "You heard her. One's coming, they all are-"
"They killed Chevre, they tortured her," Jem sobbed.
Jest grabbed Jem's face. "Chevre always knew what to do. And she told you to run," Jest demanded. "Go now!"
"Jest-" Tomo started.
(He'd once hated Jori for accepting it. Now he had to do the same.)
"I can't run," Jest said. "Go. Run. Run!"
To his relief, Tomo listened. He grabbed a backpack and shoved Jem out the door, running out into the ghost town. In a few breaths, they were gone.
Good thing, too. Because a few breaths was all it took for One to show up.
One kicked the door open, then leaned against the doorframe. They held a spear of their own that matched Jest's. "You've really made a mess of the place," they remarked. They tilted their head. "Aw, oh no… sacrificing yourself, are you? How noble."
Between that and the small ghost lurking behind the Career, Jest quickly understood Jem's loathing.
"Vince!" Two shouted from outside. "Stop fucking around!"
One- Vince- rolled their eyes. "No respect, that one."
Jest huffed and pointed his spear at them. He didn't want to drag this out, but he needed to buy the others time.
Vince sighed. "I remember you from our last round," they said. "You were pretty good, you know. Hate to admit it, but thought I'd thank you for helping me put on a good show back there."
Jest stared at them.
"Go girl, give me nothing!" Vince muttered, tapping their fingers against their spear. "Alright then. Is it pointless to ask you for any last words?"
Jest considered that. He'd never been one for words. Not like Jem or Chevre or Jori. But it felt important to find some now.
"Tell my family I love them," he decided. "And that I'm sorry I didn't make it."
Vince snorted. "Cliché, but sure," they replied. "Okay, well-"
Jest rushed Vince spear-first, aiming for their chest. Vince twisted out of the way, but Jest was faster this time, ignoring the pain splitting through his stomach, and he redirected the blow enough so that the spear tip raked across One's back.
One spun around, their good humor vanished. "That's enough of that," they snapped. They lunged, sending their spear straight to Jest's heart.
Jest closed his eyes as it landed.
Tisiphone Fotis, 18
District 4, She/Her
1:49 PM
Tisiphone made it to the Cornucopia just as the boy from Five fell.
Boom.
Vince scowled, wrenching their spear from Five's chest. "Hell of a homecoming," they grumbled. "Let's hope they didn't waste all the medical supplies while they were at it."
Tisiphone exhaled, giving the inside of the Cornucopia a quick survey. All in all, it looked the same- four doors, creaky wooden walls, stacks of crates and weapons. Assuming the other group hadn't rearranged the piles too much, they'd gone through plenty of the food and bandages in the Careers' absence. She couldn't blame them.
"Where's Bastet?" Vince asked.
"Chasing them, I think," Tisiphone answered. "Either to kill them, or make sure they don't come back."
Vince snorted. "Fat chance they come back," they replied.
She was inclined to agree.
(A part of her was glad Chevre had warned them. Tisiphone didn't know if she could stomach seeing another meet the Ten girl's fate.)
Vince propped their spear on the wall. "Well, let's get this one out of here," they said, "and then if you could bandage me up, that would be great."
They turned and showed her their back, peering over one shoulder to try to see for themself. "It doesn't hurt too bad," they remarked, "but I'd prefer not to bleed on this shirt more than I have to. Stains don't become me."
Tisiphone rolled her eyes, but nodded. It ended up taking several minutes to move Five out of the Cornucopia- the tattooed boy was heavy and difficult to get through the doorway. They laid him on his back next to Chevre, and having him next to her made her look even smaller.
"Glad that's over with," Vince huffed. "Why are you staring at the dead girl?"
Tisiphone blinked. "I'm not."
"You feel bad for her, don't you?" Vince said. "She did get a shitty deal in the end there, but at least she's dead now. Not much else we could've done."
"She asked me to kill her," Tisiphone mumbled.
"And if you had, Bastet would've killed you," Vince replied.
Tisiphone's head jerked toward them, her chest suddenly tight. "You think they would've?" she asked.
"Well… yeah. You're not Aveline," Vince said. "If it makes you feel better, neither am I."
Tisiphone didn't know how to respond to that. She stepped away from the bodies, forcing herself not to look at them, and started heading back to the Cornucopia.
(They were right. This was not the same Bastet they'd met in the Training Center, or even the one from their first days in the arena. This was another person determined to use her for their own ends- hadn't Tisiphone been denying that for days now? She'd been so desperate to be seen by someone that she willingly ignored every warning sign. It happened with Brizo. Now, it was happening with Bastet.)
"Where are you going?" Vince called.
"Bandages," she replied. "Unless you want to keep ruining your shirt."
Vince jogged up beside her, catching up quickly. "Kind of you."
Inside, she crouched by the medical supplies pile, pulling out the remaining rolls of bandages and gauze. To their credit, Vince helped, pulling out a tube of disinfectant and handing it to her. Then they sat next to her, looking at her expectantly.
(Looking back at Vince, Tisiphone couldn't help but think back. Until the last few days, she and Vince had spent little time together. She'd always been close by Bastet or Brizo, and neither of them had particularly liked the One tribute. While Tisiphone had occupied her time trying to make meaningful allies, Vince spent theirs with Aveline, or making out with Rumi or Mercury in the Training Center. It was no wonder they hadn't talked much.
But that also meant Tisiphone knew very little about Vince, and that… that felt like a warning flag. And Tisiphone had to stop ignoring those warning flags.)
"Vince," she said slowly, as she poured some water onto a clean-looking cloth, "if you and I are going to stick together- really stick together- I need to be able to trust you."
"Oh, sure," they replied. "Makes sense."
She dabbed at their back, cleaning the blood away bit by bit. "I don't know anything about you."
"Look, Tiss," they replied, "I know your allies haven't exactly worked out for you. Mine haven't either, and it's fucking exhausting. Rumi… we know what happened with Rumi. And then Aveline got killed by some outer-district rando. I want to trust someone just as much as you do."
"Mmm." She tilted her head. "But what about you? Who are you?"
Vince was silent for a long moment, long enough that Tisiphone started to think they might not have heard her. "I, ah… spent a lot of time training. Lived with my dad. There's not much else to know."
"Lived?" asked Tisiphone. "Is he-?"
"He's fine," Vince replied. "Alive and dandy. I live to be his son, or whatever."
"Do you?"
"Not like I've got other options," they said. "You?"
"What about me?"
"What's your dad like?"
Tisiphone finished cleaning the blood and reached for the disinfectant. "I'm not really sure," she admitted. "I don't remember him much."
Vince twisted to look at her over their shoulder. "Shit, Tiss, I'm sorry."
"It's fine," she said, and she meant it. "He was Coast Guard. Lost at sea when I was nine. He wasn't around very much."
(When her dad disappeared, her mom went out to look for him. It was the first time she had to keep the light going all by herself.
These days, she struggled to remember any other way.)
"Coast Guard," Vince remarked. "Sounds dashing."
"My mom probably would've agreed," Tisiphone replied. Then she caught herself. "Would agree."
She pressed the disinfectant along the wound, making Vince suck in a breath through their teeth. "Ow."
"Trying to do it fast," she apologized. Easier said than done- the wound wasn't deep, but it was large. She finished up with a few more dabs, then reached for the bandages.
"Can I tell you something stupid?"
Tisiphone began to unspool the bandages. "Yes."
Vince sighed. "It… it was my birthday yesterday."
"What?"
"Yeah. Nineteen." Then they said, in a more mocking tone: "Best birthday ever…!"
"Happy birthday, Vince," she told them. "I- I don't have anything for you, I didn't know- you could have first dibs on the rations tonight?"
"I'll take what I can get," they replied, sounding more amused than anything. "Thanks, Tiss."
"Of course." She started working along the wound, taping gauze in place along the tear. As she went, Vince fell silent for once.
(Something about that struck her as more real than anything they'd said or done in the last two weeks.)
(She wanted this to be real so badly. She wanted to have someone she could rely on in this godforsaken arena. She was so sick of keeping the light going by herself.)
(She wasn't sure about Vince yet, but she couldn't shake the feeling that they might be her best chance at making it back to her lighthouse.)
Fleur Pettifur, 17
District 6, She/They
7:53 PM
Just before dusk, the ground began to rumble again.
Chase shot to her feet, hoisting their supplies onto her back with one hand and reaching for Fleur with the other. "We have to run."
Fleur took her hand. "Where?"
"I dunno! Not here!" Chase replied, tugging Fleur upright and taking off.
The Five girl was fast when she wanted to be, and it took everything Fleur had to keep up with her. It wasn't long before their lungs were burning in protest, but Fleur's fear of another earthquake kept her putting one foot in front of the other.
(She didn't want to fall into the darkness forever- if they saw that colorless world again they wouldn't make it, she just knew it-)
Chase spared a glance over her shoulder. "Shit!"
Fleur glanced down, but there were no cracks in the earth beneath their feet. "But-"
"Not a quake," Chase panted. "Mutts. Go!"
Fleur pushed herself to run faster as panic bubbled up her throat. They couldn't tell if the rumbling was increasing over the blood pounding in her own ears.
Her foot caught a root, nearly sending them sprawling, but Chase grabbed their bicep and yanked her forward.
"Horses. They'll- catch up," Chase wheezed. "Gonna trample us. Climb a tree- wait for them to pass- don't think they eat people-"
Fleur struggled to find reassurance in that. Meanwhile, Chase surged forward, sprinting toward one of the few trees that grew on the hills. As Fleur ran, she saw Chase launch herself at it, scrambling up its trunk.
I can't do that, Fleur realized. I can't climb-
"What are you doing!" Chase shouted, barely audible above the rumbling. "Fleur!"
They could see it already- they'd get a few inches off the ground before the mutts dragged her back down. Fleur had never climbed anything in her life, let alone a tree. She had no idea where to start, and didn't have the time to figure it out. No, she had to keep running. It was all they could do.
"Fleur!" Chase screamed. Then Fleur ran past her, and her ally's voice was drowned out.
Fleur tore through the hills as the rumbling came closer and closer. She couldn't help it- she glanced back too, and saw a herd of horses chasing after them. She dimly remembered begging her father for a pony once, but these were nowhere near as cute. Maybe it was for the best that he'd said no.
She cleared another hill, and then another, but they were still right behind her. Their legs felt like they were on fire, and a few near stumbles made tears spring to her eyes. They could hear the mutts snorting and whinnying just a few paces behind her. She tried changing directions, but they followed her no matter where she ran.
So she kept running.
(Fleur Pettifur had never been good at running. She ran from the Capitol, from Colin Malone, but District Six wasn't far enough. They couldn't outrun anything. They never had.)
Her eyes blurred with tears. They didn't know where they were going anymore, only that she had to get away-
-and then their foot hitched on a clump of dirt, and Fleur hit the ground. They'd fallen from an
incline, and began to tumble head over heels down a hill, yanking her arms around her head as they rolled. The ground slammed into her elbows and knees and back over and over again, fully disorienting her and leaving them breathless.
Finally, she landed on her back one last time. The fabric around her elbows, knees, and shoulders had been ripped up, and all her joints ached. They gasped, trying to catch their breath. Fleur laid there, expecting the herd to run her over any minute, but they didn't come.
She turned their head, listening. The rumbling and whinnying weren't behind her anymore. Instead, it was receding into the distance as the sky began to darken. The herd had lost her trail.
With a groan, Fleur pushed themself to her feet, their whole body aching. She wanted to go back and find Chase, but they quickly realized that she wasn't sure which way she'd come from. A part of them wanted to sit and wait for Chase to come find them, but she didn't want to be so useless. Besides, Chase always said it was a bad idea to hang out in the open, so it would probably be smart to get somewhere more secluded.
Fleur trudged back up the hill they'd fallen down. She wasn't far from the mountains, now- maybe she should go that way?
Before they could decide, another sound made them freeze: two twigs snapping in quick succession.
"H-Hello?" Fleur dared. "Chase?"
Another twig snapped behind them, and they turned to see a tall figure emerging from the dusk shadows. Her heart dropped.
That wasn't Chase.
Valentina Gammon, 16
District 7, She/Her
9:08 PM
Shortly after the faces played in the sky, her district partner returned to their camp. He was not alone.
Valentina eyed the body he was dragging behind him by the foot. "What you got there?"
"A sacrifice," he replied with a grin. "The time is nigh to make my vision from the Spirit a reality."
Valentina bit back a scoff at the word nigh. "Good. And who'd you find?"
"An old friend," he told her.
Valentina abandoned the wood she'd been stacking and made her way over to the limp body Aescelin had dragged in. She had to squint to make out their face in the dark, especially because there was blood running down their forehead. But the faded pink hair was unmistakable.
"Aescelin," Valentina cautioned, "are you sure-"
"Yes," Aescelin said. "The Spirit was angry with my handling of this one back in the Tribute Center. I will not fail Them again. She will not get away this time!"
"But remember," Valentina tried, "in her interview, they said she was from the Capitol."
"And?"
"And," Valentina continued, "is a Capitolite really the best person for your- for your vision-"
"All are equal in the eyes of the Spirit," Aescelin intoned.
"But the Gamemakers- and sponsors-"
"I cannot let the Spirit down!" Aescelin shouted. Valentina wasn't sure he'd even heard her.
The Six girl stirred, groaning softly.
(This was a bad idea. Actually, this was a terrible idea. If they killed this girl, the Capitol was unlikely to let her out of the arena alive. But if she took this kill from Aescelin- after having already pushed him with her whole 'best follower' nonsense- he might kill her right here, right now.
What the fuck was she supposed to do?)
"Fetch the rope," Aescelin demanded.
Torn, but not wanting to be on the wrong side of Aescelin's wrath, Valentina went to find the rope. Meanwhile, Aescelin dragged Fleur toward the… construct… thing… they'd been working on. Valentina thought it looked like a dumb pile of wood, but Aescelin was obsessed with it. To her chagrin, he'd spent hours carving his stupid runes into it while she lugged the wood around. At least it had kept him quiet for a while. She found herself missing that right now.
Aescelin propped Fleur up against the wooden pole they'd put in the center of the wood pile. He held his hand out, and Valentina handed over the rope.
"Now," he said, "the lantern we retrieved from the mines."
Valentina obliged him, taking her sweet time getting it while she racked her mind for a way to convince him out of this.
(Maybe she could insist Fleur wasn't a good enough sacrifice, and that they needed another Career? Or she could wake Fleur up and cut the ropes, and they could both run-)
"There's no time to waste," Aescelin said. "Bring it to me."
Reluctantly, Valentina did so. Aescelin took it and began fiddling with the bottom until liquid began to trickle from it. Aescelin poured all of it over Six's head.
Shit, is that oil?
Valentina took a hesitating step back.
Aescelin pulled out a knife and, as he had with Two, began to carve his fucked-up symbols into Six's body. He started with their hands, then moved to the exposed skin at her collarbone, before working his way up her face. As he did, they stirred more and more. By the time he had the knife poised at her cheek, their eyes blinked open.
"Wha…" they groaned. Fleur tried to move her arms, but found herself restrained.
(This was not good. This was not good.)
Fleur blinked again, peering back at Aescelin through the dark. "Oh!" they said. "You!"
"Congratulations," Aescelin informed Fleur. "You have been chosen to honor the Spirit next."
Fleur's face went slack. "W-wait- no, hold on-"
"You should be grateful for the chance to die this way, instead of as the other blasphemers have," Aescelin said. "Instead, you die for a god."
"Your- your god?" Fleur asked. "The one you s-saw?"
Aescelin lifted his chin. "I saw my deity in the Capitol, it's true."
"But- but that was me," Fleur said.
Valentina could've kicked them. Aescelin couldn't know this was all bullshit, not now, right after Valentina had started leaning into it. It was the only protection she had.
Aescelin's voice was dangerously low. "What did you say?"
"The god you saw was me," Fleur said. Valentina could see tears in their eyes. "We- we were mad about the glitter bomb, or at least the others were mad, so we wanted to get back at you, so- so we pretended, we just wanted to scare you a little-"
Aescelin was shaking his head. "No," he muttered.
"-we didn't mean to- to trick you, or anything, it- we didn't mean anything-"
Aescelin's eyes flashed. "Lies!" he shouted.
"Don't sacrifice me," Fleur wept. "It was pretend, I swear- you don't have to do this-"
Aescelin plunged the knife into Fleur's cheek, abandoning his runes. Fleur gave a muffled, high-pitched scream, tears pouring down her face and into the wound.
Valentina stood, frozen, looking back and forth between the two.
(What the fuck was she supposed to do?)
Aescelin wrenched the knife out, sending a splatter of blood across Valentina's face. In spite of herself, she winced. Fleur sagged against the pole, sobbing, as blood poured down her neck.
"HERETIC!" Aescelin roared. Spit flew from his lips. "BLASPHEMER!"
"Please," Fleur sobbed, her words thick and hard to understand. "Please, no…"
"How dare you attempt to lead me astray!" Aescelin ranted. "You try to lead Their champion from the forest because you fear for your own measly life?"
"No! No-"
"You are insignificant!" Aescelin raged. "Your life has lacked meaning until the Spirit deemed otherwise! Do you repent?"
Fleur's response was incoherent through their tears and wounds. It didn't matter. Aescelin heard what he wanted to hear.
"Then your repentance," Aescelin answered, "will be your death."
Fleur sobbed harder. Aescelin dug into his pocket and pulled out- a matchbook?
Valentina's eyes widened. Fuck.
"O Holy Spirit!" Aescelin cried. "With this gift you have sent me from the skies, I offer this soul in sacrifice!"
"Wait," Valentina started. "Wait-"
Aescelin struck the match. "May this soul bring You strength!" he continued. "May she be one more step to reparations for all the forests slaughtered!"
Her stomach turned. "Aescelin-"
"No," Fleur wept. Then she started shouting something else, which took a few moments for Valentina to recognize as a name: "Chase! Chase!"
"All this in Your name!" Aescelin shrieked.
Then he threw the match.
Whoosh.
The flame caught immediately. Whip-quick, it lashed up the oil that had been poured on the Six girl. It started at her feet, then her legs, then her torso and arms and hair.
That was when Fleur started to scream.
"Chase!" she screamed. "Chase!"
The fire spread through the wood, keeping it from going out. Valentina flinched back from the heat. Aescelin tilted his head back and began to laugh.
Valentina had never heard a more desperate sound in her life. "CHASE!"
Smoke billowed up into the night. Fleur continued to scream as the flame licked at the runes Aescelin had made, her words dissolving as she began to writhe.
(Part of Valentina hoped, then, that Fleur would tear herself free.
They did not.)
Aescelin's laugh grew louder and louder. Fleur's cries became weaker.
And then Valentina smelled something she hadn't smelled in weeks.
She turned her head away as her stomach flipped, trying vehemently to deny it. The wind followed her, carrying the scented smoke into her nostrils.
Valentina dropped to her knees, her chest heaving as she tried to hold it back. But she couldn't escape the smell. She couldn't get it out of her mouth, her nose, the back of her throat.
(It smelled just like barbecue.)
Valentina vomited her leftover dinner into the dirt. When it had all been purged from her stomach, she looked up, only to get a whiff of it again and return to her knees, retching. Fleur's cries became feeble. Aescelin laughed and danced.
(That… that sick fuck, he'd ruined it. Valentina Gammon had only found one joy since her idiot father squandered the Gammon fortune, and that joy was barbecue. Without barbecue, she had nothing. Was nothing. And this bastard had ruined it, irrevocably, for the rest of her life. She knew it instinctively. Valentina Gammon would never be able to stomach standing over a grill again.)
(He'd pay for this. Him and his greedy god, they would pay.)
Valentina wiped her mouth, then pulled her shirt over her face and pinched her nose shut. "Aescelin!" she demanded. "We have to leave!"
Aescelin had stopped dancing and now stared dreamily at the flames, seemingly not noticing the motionless figure within them.
She didn't have time for this. She couldn't be here one more goddamn minute. "You made a giant fucking beacon," Valentina yelled. "Tributes could be coming for us right now. Snap out of it!"
Aescelin looked over at her. "The Spirit is so pleased," he said, smiling like an idiot.
Valentina wanted to kill him there and then. If he wasn't bigger than her, and fucking insane, and she wasn't sick on her knees, she might've tried. Instead, she said. "Of course They are. But let's leave the sacrifice for the others to see. So they can follow the Spirit's light."
Aescelin nodded. "Absolutely," he said. "We must be generous with this blessing."
Valentina had the urge to vomit again. Luckily, there was nothing left. "Let's go back to the tunnels."
Aescelin went to collect their things from the campsite. Valentina dragged herself to her feet, letting herself glare at him while his back was turned.
(That sicko, that whack job, how fucking dare he. After everything she'd put up with, how dare this insane boy turn around and ruin her one joy.)
(Well. If Valentina Gammon couldn't find joy in her barbecue any longer, she'd be sure to find some in her retribution.)
Chase Holloway, 15
District 5, She/Her
9:14 PM
Chase followed the horses until the sun sank beneath the sky. As it did, they finally slowed.
"Fleur?" Chase shouted. "Fleur!"
But there was no response. One of the horses turned its head toward her, and Chase shrank back, but it didn't seem interested in her. Still, her heart pounded. Had Fleur been trampled somewhere along the way, and Chase just hasn't noticed? But wouldn't Chase have heard them scream, or noticed a cannon firing?
Before she could wonder any longer, the faces played in the sky. And the first-
"No," Chase whispered. Jest's ever-solemn face stared back at her. "Wait- no-"
(She didn't want to believe it.)
Then a second face replaced his: a small blonde girl with blue eyes and pale skin. Chase vaguely recognized her just as the anthem faded and the sky returned to black.
"Shit," she muttered. Her relief that Fleur wasn't up there had been overtaken by the horror of seeing Jest.
(It wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair! Jest didn't deserve this stupid arena- didn't deserve whatever had happened to him. What about the tattoos they were supposed to get? What about the life he was supposed to have?)
I'll kick their ass, she promised. I mean- I'll figure out who it was, and then kick their ass.
She took a deep breath. She had to focus. Fleur was alive, but they weren't here. Chase just had to find them. Maybe they'd found a hiding spot somewhere along the way, something Chase had missed because she was too busy running. Yeah. Yeah, that made sense. Chase would just retrace her steps and figure out what went wrong, like when her gadgets broke or malfunctioned.
So she reached into her bag, took a swig of water, and started jogging back the way she came. It wasn't hard to tell where she came from, because there was a trail of hoofprints that had been punched into the dirt.
"Fleur," she whisper-shouted as she went. "Fleur!"
She jogged for a long time. She had to keep taking breaks, switching her gait to a brisk walk, in order to keep going. She couldn't remember the last time she'd run this much. Her legs felt achy, and she was sure they'd be sore tomorrow. But that was a small price to pay.
Eventually, the trail meandered back toward the mountains, with still no sign of Fleur.
"Fleur," Chase whispered. "Where the fuck did you go?"
She stood there for a long moment. It was stupid, and she knew it. What was she doing, waiting for a response? From who? She was smarter than this, she just needed to focus-
A far-off scream pierced the night.
Chase knew that scream.
"Fleur!" she shouted. Her exhaustion forgotten, she took off, sprinting toward the mountains. "Fleur!"
And then, just above her heartbeat thrumming in her ears:
Whoosh.
A flickering orange light rose through the mountainside like a signal flare, about the size of Chase's pinky finger.
Chase squinted. What the-
More screams interrupted her thoughts. A lump settled in Chase's throat, making it hard to breathe. It- it couldn't be- that couldn't be what she thought it was.
"Chase!" Fleur screamed, terribly far away.
"Fleur!" Chase cried. She pushed herself harder- she needed to run faster, dammit, why was she so fucking slow- "Fleur, I'm coming!"
The flames grew taller. Chase could smell the smoke now as she sprinted. She stumbled, grazing her knee on a rock, but was down for only a second. She wasn't fast enough. She needed to run faster, why was she so fucking slow-
The smoke coated the inside of her mouth. Chase started coughing so hard she nearly gagged. "Fleur!" she choked.
Finally- finally- she made it. She arrived at an abandoned campsite, at the center of which stood…
"No," she cried. She could feel tears building up at the backs of her eyes. "Fleur!"
A mountain of wood, still alight and smoking. Within the flames, Chase could make out Fleur's form, her hair and clothes burned and their head listing to the side.
"Water, I'll get you water," Chase choked. She reached for her water and thrust it at the fire, receiving a small ssssss for her efforts. She threw her bag on the ground and dug through it, accidentally slicing her finger open on a knife. "Shit, shit, where's- there's no more! Shit!"
Chase left it and pulled her shirt over her nose and mouth, scrambling toward Fleur. She reached a hand into the inferno, grimacing as flames kissed her hand. It didn't matter, none of it mattered, she just had to get Fleur. Chase reached her other hand in, crying out, and grabbed Fleur. Much of the ropes had been burned, so Chase disregarded them and gave her ally a hard yank.
"Come on," she shrieked, "c'mon!"
With one more hard pull, she tugged Fleur free. Fleur came crashing down on top of her, singeing Chase's forearms as she caught them.
"Fleur," Chase shouted, lowering Fleur to the ground. "Can you hear me?"
Fleur was still burning. Chase yanked her vest off, grunting as the material chafed her tender palms, and threw it over them. She wanted to be gentle, but her panic demanded she do this quickly, and she patted Fleur out with vigor. Then she put Fleur's head in her lap.
"Fleur," Chase begged. "C'mon."
Without the flames and smoke to shroud her, Chase couldn't ignore it; Fleur looked really bad. Their face and neck was covered with blood. There was a hole in their cheek. Most of her pink hair was burned off. Her legs and arms and torso were so burned that Chase could barely look at them without her dinner threatening to make an appearance.
Fleur cracked an eye open. The other, drenched in blood, stayed shut.
"I'm so sorry," Chase told her, her voice trembling. "Just- just hang in there, w-we can get medicine."
Fleur's lips spread, trying to say something, but no words came out.
"It's okay," Chase said. "You- maybe sleep for now? Sleep?"
Fleur blinked slowly. On the ground, their left hand shook. Chase grabbed it, ignoring the burns on her palm's protest.
The corners of their lips perked up just enough to dimple.
No. No. "Fleur, please," Chase begged. "I- I need you too, okay? Please- you're all I've got-"
Fleur gave her hand a feeble squeeze. Their eye slipped shut, and her dimples faded.
"No- Fleur- please-"
Boom.
Chase stared down at Fleur's still body.
Then she screamed.
"Fleur!" Chase withdrew her hand from Fleur's and shook their shoulders. They had to wake up. Her breaths came in choked gasps, and her face felt sticky. Fleur didn't stir. Chase slapped her across the face, her hand trembling violently. Fleur's head fell to the side, unmoving.
"NO!" Chase screamed. She- she couldn't- no, this- no- no-!
(Chase Holloway was always too late.)
(She saw Tye's body riddled with bullets. She saw Spark betraying the gang to the Peacekeepers. She saw Zinnia stumbling. She saw Shazia hit the ground. She saw Jest's face in the stars. She saw Fleur burning brighter than the fucking sun.)
Her grief was too big for her body. It overtook her, pulling her head to the ground, caving her shoulders in toward her chest, rubbing her knees into the dirt. Sobs tore themselves free from her throat one after the other, taking all the air from her lungs.
(She was nothing. Five had tried to teach her that, over and over, and she hadn't fucking listened because she thought she knew better. She didn't.)
It was all too much. She gasped, trying to breathe, but she got a lungful of smoke and started coughing so hard she thought she would throw up. Her mouth tasted of ash.
(She couldn't bear this. She couldn't face it. She- she needed something else, something to cling to instead of this grief.)
(What had she clung to before? What had kept her going all the other times the world insisted on robbing her, had wanted payback for her petty thefts?)
Her breath slowed. She dug her nails into the dirt, ignoring their blisters, and clawed herself back up. She let the heat of the dwindling fire dry her tears from her face.
Her eyes landed on Fleur.
The girl was nearly unrecognizable. She knew the grief would take her under again if she looked at Fleur's face, so she didn't; instead, she kept her eyes on-
…what was that?
Chase leaned forward. There was something odd on Fleur's chest, right at her collarbones. A strange cut, still oozing blood.
No, not a cut.
A symbol.
Chase looked back at the dying fire.
She knew who had done this. She knew it like she knew the sky was blue and Fleur loved pink.
(She remembered what kept her going all those other times.)
Chase stared at the destruction. "I'm gonna fucking kill you," she vowed. "Even if it kills me. I am gonna make sure you fucking die."
(She wrapped that vow around her shoulders like a childhood blanket. She let her old anger relight, curling her blistered palms into fists.)
Chase closed her eyes and kissed Fleur's forehead. Then she shoved herself to her unsteady feet and walked into the darkness. Searching.
(No Peacekeepers here to stop her. No gang to keep her from going too far.)
(Time to play the fucking Hunger Games.)
12th: chevre kanaf-kaziol, d10 (killed by bastet avarne)
11th: jest valencia, d5 (killed by invincible gaultier)
10th: fleur pettifur, d6 (killed by aescelin ibbara-ixtal)
kills:
aveline: 1
invincible: 2
bastet: 2
mercury: 1
tisiphone: 2
brizo: 1
aescelin: 2
jem: 1
patrek: 1
mendi: 2
alliances:
invincible, bastet, tisiphone
tomo & jem
valentina & aescelin
chase
mendi
featured ghosts:
jude finnegan, d8, fool's gold (killed by invincible gaultier)
thank you to goldie, brooke, and sakura for chevre, jest, and fleur respectively! i think chevre was the very first sub i got for fg! and i apologize for breaking so many of her bones, but mostly for breaking her spirit. she died loyal to her friends instead of an impartial party, and that was what felt most important to me. jest was a lovely lovely boy and i am sorry for breaking his spirit also. he tried his best always and he had my whole heart for it. he deserves a real actual vacation, not the kind his sister will tell his mom he went on. maybe a nice beach somewhere. and then of course fleur, who, like both chevre and jest, got a much meaner fate than she deserved. fleur darling your pizzazz and sparkle was so much fun to write and your girlypop alliance formed by friendship and glitter was out of this world. i love all three of you very much and got a bit emotional saying goodbye to all of you at once this chapter!
um... *jazz hands* happy pride...? thanks to moose for betaing! you'll get another update from me before july. not that i'm sure anyone wants one after this but too bad. final nine baybee! i'll update the blog soon (fr this time) and um. bye love u! ! !
rb