Fern Steel POV
Filthy filthy filthy filthy.
I scrubbed at my arms in the shower, trying to rid myself of all the crap the stylists had put on my skin.
Filthy filthy filthy filthy.
I was filthy. I was still tainted by what had happened earlier this year in the games. Shane and Eve were dead, and it was my fault. I couldn't rid myself of these memories; they were etched into my brain. Unclean. No amount of soap could banish the smell of blood and guilt from my fingers.
I shivered and sunk to the bottom of the shower stall, wrapping my arms around my knees. Even though I was sitting under hot water, I'd never felt colder.
I'd seen what death looked like. And I'd give anything to unsee it.
Chase McKinney POV
Arwin and I sat in silence in the District 3 suite.
Despite it being the Ultimate Games, we still had to remain on the same floors we did for the Qualifying Round. That meant that some tributes, like Dianna from 5 and Misty from 11, had an entire floor to themselves, and that some, like District 7 or District 12, was accommodating 3 tributes. The unevenness all seemed a little silly to me, but part of me wished I was alone. Then again, human company wasn't too bad, and even though she was in a different alliance, it wasn't like Arwin was going to sudden turn around and stab me with the kitchen knife.
"You okay?" Arwin asked carefully.
No.
"Yeah," I replied.
I was tired. So tired. I just wanted to go back in time and reverse everything that had happened this year. I wanted it all to be over and I wanted Ramona back.
"Are you sure?" Arwin asked hesitantly, "You don't seem like it."
"I'm fine." I replied stiffly. Arwin looked up at me from beneath her eyelashes, adjusting slightly.
"It's okay if you're not, you know-"
"I said I'm fine," I interrupted her with a clipped tone. Arwin sighed deeply, tucking her feet up beneath her on the couch and staring at the ceiling. I bit my lip and turned away, staring at the wall. It was a soft grey colour. Everything around me was sleek and finished; it felt like a display home. I hated it.
"It's not your fault Ramona died."
My head jolted upwards and snapped over to Arwin. Her eyes bored into my skull, biting her lip nervously as if she were scared how I would react.
"Um," I stammered, "I-I know,"
"I don't think you do," Arwin said softly, "You need to stop blaming yourse-"
"If I had just stopped her!" I yelled suddenly, making Arwin jump, "If I had just not let her intercept the spear, she'd still be alive."
"And then Talia would be dead," Arwin reminded me. I buried my head in my hands.
"God, I fucking hate this." Arwin mumbled. I twisted my head and looked at her.
"What about Shane and Eve?"
Arwin let out a shuddery breath and shut her eyes.
"I know it's not really my fault," she said slowly, "But..."
"But what?" I prompted her. Arwin sighed and leaned back against the sofa.
"But I still feel guilty over their deaths," she whispered. She glanced over at me, pain in her eyes, "Is it normal to feel guilty about these sorts of things?"
"Yea, I do as well," I mumbled. Arwin looked down at the floor.
"I just... I could have done something," she said softly, "I had a bow, for Christ's sake, why didn't I just shoot Aria? I'm so freaking stupid."
"We can't blame ourselves for this," I said, "The only person to blame for Shane and Eve's deaths are Aria, and the only one to blame for Ramona's is Hunter."
"I know we can't, but..." Arwin went silent for a few moments.
"But what?" I murmured.
"I miss them," Arwin replied simply. Her voice thickened as tears began to well up in her eyes, "I miss my friends."
"I wish Ramona were here," I whispered. Silence fell upon us like a veil for a few moments.
"We all lost something in that arena," Arwin murmured. She looked up from the floor again, her eyes meeting mine, "But we have a choice. We can choose to let it destroy us, or we can let it make us stronger."
I nodded slowly, almost as if I were underwater.
"It's hard, though," I muttered, "To let it go, I mean."
"I know," Arwin murmured, "I know..."
Valentina Curtis POV
"You know, you can stop looking at me like I'm about to use you as target practice for my katana, Tatiana."
Tatiana didn't reply, just sat back in her armchair, still giving me a wary look. I sighed in annoyance, going back to examining my nails.
Because the Capitol was still determined to be stupid and stick us in the same floors we were in the Qualifying Rounds, Tatiana had now become my temporary flatmate, of sorts. Amaya, Jon, Victor and Doug were all dead, and so that just left Tatiana and I.
"Why do you kill?" Tatiana asked carefully.
I glanced over at her, raising my eyebrows, "Because I want to win?"
"I know, we all do, but..." Tatiana hesitated for a moment.
"But what?"
"But most of the tributes aren't exactly chill with slaughtering other teenagers. Most people have some kind of moral issue with murder. You don't seem to."
I shrugged, "It's kill or be killed."
"It's more than that, though," Tatiana said, adjusting in her seat, "What about humanity, your basic, fundamental human ties with other people? Do you just ignore all that?"
"Maybe I'd notice it if I had any," I replied, "I just don't connect with other people. At all. I have more of a connection with a cat than I do with you. I don't want to kill, but it's not a problem for me."
"Not a problem for you?" Tatiana said incredulously. I shrugged.
"Human lives are trivial to me. They don't matter to me. I don't empathize with people, and I don't take pleasure in their misery. I just kill. That's all there is to it. It's like getting a papercut. Not particularly pleasant, but not a huge deal."
"So, what, you're a crazy sociopath?" Tatiana asked. I glanced over at her, and grinned toothily at her.
"You're half right," I smiled, "I may be a killer, but trust me, my sanity is very much intact."
Mike Roberts POV
"Thanks for meeting me."
Hope approached me as I sat on the rooftop, staring out at the Capitol lights. I was sitting cross-legged, watching as the hustle and bustle of Capitol life went on beneath the Tribute Centre. The city lights were almost entrancing. Hope sat next to me at the edge of the building, tucking her knees up to her chest and resting her chin atop them.
"It's kinda surreal, isn't it?" she said softly. I nodded my head, watching as a horde of cars stopped at an intersection.
"We're about to get thrown into a death match, for the second time in a year, and their biggest worry is whether or not to attend a fucking party," I said slowly. Hope shrugged and shuffled closer to me, staring out at the Capitol with wide eyes.
"It's weird," she murmured, "All these people have normal, everyday lives. They aren't worried about constant death. They have it so simple."
"I wonder what that's like," I whispered. I glanced over at her, "I'm glad you're here. I'm sorry I haven't talked to you much."
"Nah, it's fine," Hope reassured me, "We've been a bit... awkward."
"That's an understatement," I laughed. Hope smiled and shuffled closer, resting her head on my shoulder.
"Why does this have to happen in the Hunger Games?" she sighed. I shrugged.
"Dunno. The gods hate us."
Hope chucked slightly, shaking her head, "You're such an idiot."
I smiled and rested my head on top of hers, staring out at the city lights and streets. For a few moments, we remained silent.
"Mike, what're gonna do?" Hope whispered. I sighed and shut my eyes.
"I don't know," I admitted, "I really don't know."
Hope sighed and lifted her head off my shoulder, pulling her knees up to her chest again and staring out at the city. I looked over at her.
And then, all of a sudden, I leaned forward and kissed her.
Talia Carter POV
"You want some coffee?"
I looked over my shoulder at Benji, who was shuffling about in the kitchen. Despite Delilah's protests, and the repeated avoxes who tried to get him to stop, he had been in the kitchen for hours, cooking random foods.
A large bowl of roasted potatoes, the newest product of Benji's stress induced cooking fiasco, now sat in the centre of the kitchen island, next to a loaf of freshly baked bread and a platter of lamb. I yawned and got up off the sofa, wandering over to join him.
"Yea, I'll have some coffee," I answered, resting my hands on the countertop. Benji nodded with a smile and walked over to the coffee machine, pulling two mugs out of the cabinet. I walked around to the other side of the kitchen island, hopping up onto a stool and reaching for the roasted potatoes.
"Where'd you even get all the ingredients for this?" I asked, my mouth full of potato, "I haven't seen any kind of ingredients around here."
"Avox's," Benji answered shortly. I nodded my head, running a hand through my hair. After a few minutes Benji sat down next to me, two steaming mugs of coffee in his hands. He put them down on the countertop and then moved one towards me, and I accepted it greatfully.
"Thanks," I mumbled. I took a sip of the coffee. It was a bit too bitter for my taste, but I still continued to drink it.
"I made some meringues too, they're on the counter over there," Benji said, pointing to the countertop next to the oven. I nodded.
"You really like to cook, eh?"
Benji shrugged, "Dad and I used to cook a lot together at home. I guess it just makes me feel closer to home."
"What about your mum?" I asked. Benji's face saddened.
"She died giving birth to me," he mumbled. I bit my lip, dropping my head.
"I'm sorry."
"Nah, don't be," Benji waved me off, "I'm over it. I have my dad and I have my sister."
"Your sister?" I asked, "I didn't know you had a sister."
"Yeah, I do," Benji smiled, "Laura, she's 19. I love her to death."
"Your family sounds nice," I smiled softly.
"What about yours?"
I stiffened up immediately. Benji noticed and looked down, twiddling his thumbs.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"It's fine," I answered quietly, "Um, my dad went missing a few years ago, so I don't know where he is. My mum is great, but sometimes she just randomly starts crying and I feel like shit."
"I'm sorry," Benji said quietly, "Do you have any siblings?"
"I did," I murmured, "Jason, he was 7 years old."
"Was?"
"There was a house fire, when I was 11, and..." I almost choked on my own words, "H-He burned to death."
Benji remained silent for a few moments. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. I refused to cry.
"Does Chase know this?"
"He knows my brother is dead, but..." I didn't finish the sentence. Benji nodded slowly.
"I'm really sorry, Talia," he murmured.
"Thanks," I mumbled. Benji sighed.
"I just hope I get to see my family again," he murmured.
"You've already survived through one game, Benji. We're close to getting home," I said softly, attempting to reassure him. Benji shook his head.
"I don't think I'm gonna make it," he murmured. I frowned, tipping my head to the side.
"Why do you say that?"
"Cuz..." Benji seemed to struggle with his thoughts for a moment, "Arwin is a really good archer, she's improved since last games. Fern's been training a lot to keep her mind off Shane and Eve, and now she can throw knives really well. And me... well, I'm still not good with any weapon. I'm just useless."
"Don't say that," I said, "Please don't say that."
"It's true." Benji mumbled pathetically.
"People had to die for us to get here," I murmured, "Innocent people, Benji."
"You think I don't know that?" Benji grumbled. I shook my head.
"That's not the point," I said, turning to him, "Those people died for us to get here. Don't let their deaths be in vain."
Benji let out a shuddery breath, covering his face with his hands.
"I just wanna go home," he mumbled. I shut my eyes.
"Me too."
Camille Garza POV
"I wonder how many more Hunger Games there'll be,"
Rudy and I were laying on the floor side by side, staring at the ceiling. I glanced over at his question.
"Dunno. Could be hundreds. Could be thousands. We might never know."
Rudy shook his head, "I hope it ends soon. All these deaths are sickening."
I nodded.
"FALICE!"
I jolted upright at the sudden cry, my heart pounding in my chest. I looked over at Beth on the sofa, who had tucked her knees up to her chest, tears pouring down her cheeks. I sighed and looked down at Rudy.
"Rudy, if one of us wants to win, we're going to have to kill again. You know that, right?"
Rudy nodded slowly, sadly. He got to his feet and grabbed my hand, pulling me to the big sofa. We sat down beside each other, and Rudy turned on the television.
And of course, the tributes recap for the Ultimate Games just had to be playing right at this moment.
I watched as Jakub Jollyman's stupid face rambled on about all 24 tributes. I saw faces flash on the screen, faces of tributes who were innocent, kind, loving, afraid. I felt my gut churn. If Rudy or I wanted to live, they would have to die. And I didn't think I would have it in me.
"Rudy, how are we gonna kill these people?" I whispered sadly.