Avarice Affinia
The cannons sounded, waking the dead.
*Used sponsor bonus. Automatic 12*
Viper Pandora Welsh
There's nothing better than a healthy dose of death and psychological torment in the morning.
Oh wait, of course there is.
As much as I hate to admit it, I'm not as prepared as I was last time. I can't make myself be ready like I could before. I am not the same girl I was then, nor will I ever be again. But I can try. Hopefully, I can try. I need to do this. For Cass. For me. One of us deserves to win this time and I'll do anything to make that happen. I'm not ready to die yet. Not without giving the Gamemakers a bit of hell first. What can I say, their illusion doesn't work on me anymore now that I've seen how the Games really worked. The old me worshiped the Games, the new me would do anything to stop them.
I can't stop them but I can mess up the system just a little bit. I can do things my way this time, not play by the rules the way they want me to. I'm not a delusional Career anymore. I play by my own rules, as long as it doesn't get Cass hurt. She's my only friend and I owe it to her not to get her totally screwed over. But other than that, there are no rules for me.
Because I'm Viper Pandora Welsh, that's why.
Cassia's a little father away from me than I would like but that's okay. As long as we end up in the same place, we'll be okay. She looks over at me and points to the boy next to her, the blonde one from her District, and smiles at me in her please-don't-get-mad-at-me way. I resist the urge to slap my forehead in annoyance; we don't need another ally. The last time it was more than the two of us, we both died. We don't need anyone else. But I decide I won't say anything, she'd be upset. I hate to make her upset.
The clock is at seven now and I know I have to get myself together now. This is it. For the second time, that is. This is my reset button, my chance to do right and do it right. Am I going to win? Probably not. Am I going to make sure Cassia wins? Probably. Am I going to do some damage while I'm here?
Absolutely.
When the gong rings, I start running. Somehow, my body has retained its training-made strength. It remembers running and fighting and everything it learned to get me to this day. I am a machine. I have to do this right if I want us to survive, I'm not giving up. Not now, not ever. I have to do this for Cassia and my family and myself. And to rub my survival in Antigone's smug face. That is, if she even lived. Stupid redheaded bitch...
I'm already at the fountain when Cassia and her blonde friend get there. She points him in the direction of a pair of tridents before scooping up two backpacks, tossing one to me and putting the other one on her back. I have to admit, she knows what she's doing. Maybe I'm not the only one trying to redeem myself here. She recoils a little when she picks up a sword and hands it to me. I look down at it and see that... It's my sword. Almost identical to the one I used in the arena, except for a few sea green gems in the hilt instead of all blood red. I remember how she said she died and I understand her fear.
But we don't have time to be afraid.
The blonde boy grabs a few knifes and gives one to Cassia along with her trident. I scowl at this, turning my head so they can't see. Cassia is MY partner. MY teammate. MY friend. I'm the one who's been there with her and knows her. Not some stupid boy we don't even know. I don't know why I'm so upset about it but I am. I don't like intruders, especially ones I don't know that I can trust.
"Viper? You alright?" Cassia's chirpy voice brings me down from my angry cloud as she tugs on my sleeve like a little child. She can be so... innocent sometimes. But that's not true. I've see her do the same terrible things as I've done.
Like when she turns around and throws a knife into the skull of the boy from Ten like its child's play. It sticks out of his forehead like a unicorn horn as he topples to the ground. I look over at Cassia with wide eyes but she's already grabbing another knife from the fountain to replace the one in the boy's head. No, I'm definitely not the only one trying to redeem myself. As much as I love Cass, I'm keeping an eye on her. She is, as she has always been, my greatest threat. Ever since the mutt gas in the Arena, she has been my biggest threat. But I still love her all the same.
"Alright girlie, let's go before you get into anything you regret." I sigh and twine my arm through hers, making sure her trident is in the opposite hand and my sword is nowhere near her. I worry about her sometimes...
The boy follows us closely, keeping his weapon up and his eyes alert as he does. He's a good Career, I'll give him that. Not the classic type but hey, neither is Cassia. They both have the same... is it okay to use the word insanity when describing your best friend? For all of my flaws, I'm crazy. I might be the only sane one in this trio and even THAT'S a stretch. There are battles going on around us but we don't stop to join in the fight. Right now, against every Career instinct in my body, my goal is to keep Cassia alive and get out of here without anyone getting hurt. Well, anyone I care about.
"Viper... That boy..." Cassia's voice tells me she's lost in her own world again but I still look in the direction she's looking in.
The boy from One has his hands wrapped around the skinny neck of the boy from Seven, trying to choke the life out of him because of course you can't leave the scrawny little kind alone in a fight to the death. Why this is making Cassia distraught is a mystery to me but I know she won't go unless somebody does something about it. Or unless she does it herself. And I have a feeling it would be better if I did it myself, without her getting involved.
"HEY PRETTY BOY! WHY DON'T YOU MESS WITH SOMEONE YOUR OWN SIZE! ASSHOLE!" I scream as I run over there, deciding that it's Viper to the rescue in this situation.
The boy from One looks over at me and drops the other boy, deciding that the psycho blonde girl with the sword is a bigger threat than a skinny little scarecrow of a boy. But the thing he must not realize is that I'm not a skinny little scarecrow with no weapon. I truly am a psychopath who's not going to lose this fight for anything. So he must be surprised when I severe his head from his shoulders. Stupid boy. I can't help but laugh a little as his fake-blonde head bounces like a basketball.
"Come with us if you want to not die!" I yell to the boy on the ground and pull him to his feet before going back to Cassia and the blonde boy. He follows after us as we run from the Bloodbath.
Hours later, there are six dead. The boy I killed, my district partner, the boy from three, girl from six, boy from ten, and the girl from twelve.
And we are alive. I hug Cassia and try not to sob because we've made it past Day One. And that's what we need for now.
One day at a time.
Dayta Sparke
One wrong step and I'm dead.
One thought. That's all it takes. One thought and I'm back in District Thirteen, whispering to myself as the seconds go by.
If only I was that confident.
I can remember every thought. With every pound of the gong I recall the fear and panic, every single sharp breath and quiet whisper treasured. These thoughts are threatening to envelop me again, distract me.
I wonder how my twin feels, counting down the seconds until I die.
This time, there's no fear. I have no reason to be scared. I've already lost it all. This is just a chance to win it back. I cannot lose, I can only gain.
Five, four, three, two...
As the final gong sounds, I try not to think much. Only get weapons, find Rhea, and get the heck out of here. Weapons, Rhea, out. Weapons, Rhea, out. It's just a pattern. Simple, but if done wrong is lethal.
The pavement beneath my feet does wonders to increase my speed. I'm nearing the fountain in record time, allowing a slightly cocky grin to worm it's way into my thin face.
I'm only a few metres away from the fountain now when I hear the first scream. One if the Careers stands over the girl from Ten with a bloody knife, her small head rolling across the pavement. Her brown eyes are wide open, their coldness sending a shiver down my spine.
I struggle to keep down what little food I have in my stomach as I continue to run forward, fighting to remove the image of her blood staining the grey pavement from her mind. The sound of the cannon echoes across the hollow square, but not one person flinches at the sound.
I drive my attention back at the fountain and leap over the edge, careful not to step on anything. From here in out I must be focused as if my life depends on it, because it probably does. Weapons, Rhea, out. That's all I need to do.
Not many people have gotten there by the time I arrive. A few bags and weapons are missing from the pile, but I can still find my knives. Just a single glance at the glinting silver of the blade gives me some sort of rush.
The knives are the first familiar object I've seen since coming back from the dead. Holding them in my hands gives me a sense of safety and assurance, something which I haven't felt for so long.
If I had the chance, I'd freeze that moment and just live in it forever. Yet I still stand up and shove the knifes in one of the larger bags, scanning the arena for any sign of my ally. There's no time to freeze moments now. You have to make every decision on the fly, and make sure you don't have any regrets. When you're fighting for your life, one mistake can mean you losing it all.
"Dayta!" I release a breath I didn't even know I had been holding as I turn to face Rhea, with a bloody knife in her hand. A slight grin worms on her face as the cannon goes off, but I don't need to ask why. Before I can even utter a word she's already launched into a full on explanation.
"The boy from Eight," she says, a proud air to her voice. "His sister was going to get a bag or something, and left him all alone. She's probably not able to recognize the poor boy now!"
I cannot bring myself to reply. Just the thought of the small boy lying dead on the pavement saddens me, and brings a small tear to my eye. I manage to wipe it away before Rhea can see, and together we leap out of the fountain and sprint down the streets. I fight back any urge to look at the scene around me, not wanting to see the bodies again.
That's when it happens again. My skull feels like it's exploding, causing me to cry out in pain. I've been told I'm hallucinating, but the rain of blood falling around me seems just all too real. The pavement begins to stain red. Rhea's screaming at me, but I can't hear her words. All I see is the faces, lying there in as the hot blood burns my skin. They do not belong to the tributes however. Instead, I see my baby brother lying on the asphalt, a knife through his heart.
"Dayta, it's not real!" Rhea screams, grabbing onto my arm. I push her away and fight back the tears, watching Volte's tiny face be bathed in blood. Yet no matter how much I struggle my vision still becomes a blur of red, and the rest of the arena seems to swirl around me as if it doesn't even exist.
"Dayta!" Rhea pulls me off the pavement and shakes me, but I don't feel a thing. "We need to go! It's not real!"
Dayta, it's not real!
It's not real!
Not real!
When my sanity finally returns I feel like I've been hit by a freight train. My vision's swirling, my heaad's throbbing, I can't even stand up straight. Rhea quickly pulls me into a tight hug, and together we speed away from the square and towards safety, wherever that may be.
My head's still swimming, but finally I can form somewhat of a clear thought. It's just three words, but it's an improvement for sure.
Weapons, Rhea, out.
It's nothing more than a pattern; a pattern of life and death.
Cassia de Monroe
Tribute |tribyōot|
Noun
Meaning a payment by one ruler or nation to another in acknowledgment of submission or as the price of protection; something given or contributed voluntarily as due or deserved especially a gift or service showing respect, gratitude, or affection.
Or in this case, children who have been selected or volunteered to fight to the death as a sacrifice for their nation and for a chance to win glory in a game of chance.
This word has begun to define who I am, ever since the day I was first Reaped. You'd think it would lose meaning after a while but it doesn't. When you are a part of this, you are a tribute and nothing else. It becomes who you are. You are no longer a sister or a brother or a daughter or a son. A friend, an enemy, a lover. You are no longer who you used to be because you are one thing. You're a tribute. And for some of us, most of us, that's all we'll ever be. Most of us die tributes and are remembered as tributes. Only a few of us live but we are still remembered for our struggles in the Games we had to play. We are never to be people again. We are tributes. Some are victors but the title is still the same.
I will always be a tribute.
Looking around at my competitors, I know this is where I'm going to end. These are not just other tributes here with me. These are people who have played the Games before. Lived and died in them. Some of them were a thousand times better than me before they died. Now that they have a new purpose to live, what's stopping them from tearing me apart? There are no boundaries anymore. No rules. We were all dead, and now we're not. Rules don't apply when you're really fighting for your right to live.
'Stay focused. Stay alert. We can play this game too.' The not-me tries to pull us together but it doesn't really help. She's never really helpful, always scolding me and chastising me over our choices. It's not very polite.
I look for Viper around the circle of people, knowing I have to follow her direction on this one. If she's going to the Cornucopia, so am I. And if not... Well, I know I'll end up running forward anyways. I learned my lesson last time that a weapon can be what keeps you alive longer that you ever should've been. I don't think I'll give up that chance of survival this time. No matter how much I hate the idea of killing people, I'm not ready to die this time. I'm not going down without a fight.
It's funny how loosely I think that. Before the Games I wouldn't have considered hurting anyone on purpose. Now my hands are red with blood and I'm prepared to drench myself to get home. Who is Cassia de Monroe and where can I find her because I don't think I'm her anymore. I'm not the same girl I was before. And I hate that. I hate what being a tribute has done to me, it's broken me even more. Maybe I was unstable before but what am I now? I'm a murderer. I'm a monster. I'm... I don't know what I am.
'You're a tribute' Other Me is of course, as unhelpful as always. I know I'm a tribute. I had been arguing with myself about that point before myself decided to be helpful and state it.
I finally find Viper, seeing her at the same time as she finds me. I point to the fountain of supplies and cock my head to the side. She gets the question; she must think it's a bit stupid because she rolls her eyes before nodding to me. I'm both relieved that we've agreed on our plan of attack and dreading the idea of going through this again. The killing people, the watching them die, the trials and torture. I can tell she doesn't like it either; I can see her hands are already clenched into tight fists.
But we have to keep calm and carry on. No matter what.
I watch the clock tick down after this, having a terrifying feeling of déjà vu in my chest as I do. The last time... I shake my head and brush my hair behind my ears. This isn't going to be like last time. This time I'm going to be tougher. I'm going to fight like hell and I'm not going to back down. I'm not dying this time. I will not allow that to happen, no matter how hard these Games try to knock me down.
5...
I am a tribute.
4...
I am alive again.
3...
I am not giving in.
2...
I am broken but whole.
1...
I am Cassia de Monroe.
When the gong goes off, my body seems to move on its own. I practically throw myself off the pedestal and sprint to the fountain. Not for the first time in my life, I thank whatever god might be above for giving me the ability to run fast. My agility is a lifesaver in this situation; while the others might be bigger than me, they're slower. I can get a weapon and a bag before they even reach me. I'm not going to die today. I'm not going to die again. Not now, not ever.
What do I need?
I grab a backpack from the fountain, not even looking at what's in it, and sling it on my back. Backpacks are your best friend when getting supplies. They're like a birthday present only better because they mean you won't die as quickly. I remind myself to open it as soon as we get out of the Bloodbath. It'll be something to cheer me up, after watching people die and stuff. Trying to keep that thought out of my head, I lean over the stone edge and rummage around for what I need.
"CASS! WEAPONS, HURRY UP!" And per usual, Viper yells at me because I've stopped paying attention to the world around me. Or so she thinks. I'm paying attention, I'm not messing around this time.
I find the sword first. Viper's sword. I shriek and step away from the fountain, staring at the very weapon that killed me. Or one very similar to it, in any case. A cold sweat starts to drip down my back as my hand curls around the jeweled hilt and I pull it out of the pile. When I see Viper out of the corner of my eye, I turn around and toss it to her. She looks happy to have it and I'm happy to be rid of it so no worries. Everybody's happy. Or as happy as you can be in a place where everybody's dying.
"Alright, get a trident and whatever you need and let's go. I don't want to get stuck here too long." Viper hisses as she picks up a backpack of her own and watches me nervously. This is the Viper I know best, the angry girl who hisses orders and isn't afraid to get into a fight if she needs to.
"Alright, alright!" I'm muttering more than anything as I pull two knifes, sliding them into my belt, and a trident out of the pile of weapons. This is all I need, I'm not taking anything else. Even if I'm sure I could hold more. If I have to kill people, I should at least pretend I'm not prepared to do so.
When I stand up and turn back around, Viper is in a fight with the boy from One and I'm face to face with the boy from my District. His eyes are wide as he stares at the trident I have pointed at his pretty face. He looks to the pile of weapons behind me, then back to my trident, then back to the weapons. And then he shoves me to the side, knocking me against the fountain. I cry out when my head hits the side but I get right back up despite the blood trickling down my face. God I hate blood. Why is it always my head?
"That was rude! You should apologize!" I scold angrily as I swing my trident, catching him in the shoulder as he gets a grip on his own three-pronged-staff-of-doom.
The boy- Caspian, his name is Caspian- takes his trident and swipes the prongs lightly across my face. It's not a hard hit but it stings enough to make me scream. I'm going to have scars going across my face; when I put my hand to the scratches, it comes away bloody. Something inside me snaps a little and I throw my trident on the ground before screeching and tackling him to the ground. It wouldn't have worked if he was prepared for the hit, I caught him off guard.
But not enough. He rolls over so that I'm under him, pinned down as he holds my wrists to the ground and kneels on my legs. I struggle to get out from under him but he weighs more than I do and I'm not strong enough. No. No, I'm not supposed to die again. I scream and thrash wildly, frantically trying to get away. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. Not again. Not like this. I don't want to die.
"I'm not going to hurt you... Just stop screaming, alright? I'm going to let you go and you're not going to kill me. Okay?" He's talking to me like I'm a child but I don't care. If it means he won't kill me, I'll endure. I just don't want to die. I don't want to die.
I nod and he gets up, picking up his own trident and sort of angling it at me like he thinks I'm going to attack him again. Keeping my eyes on him, I get my trident off the ground and stumble to my feet. We just stand there for minute, staring at each other. I'm waiting for him to stab me and I think he's waiting for the same thing. But neither of us make a move to attack again. I can hear battles going on around us but I'm just standing here staring at him.
"CASS! STOP EYE-SCREWING HIM AND COME HELP ME!" My daze is broken when I here Viper yell. She's such a crass person; my cheeks color as I turn to find her and yell something rude back.
But she's in trouble, so I don't waste my breath by doing so. I don't even look back at Caspian as I run over to save Viper, trident in hand. Somehow she managed to drop her sword far enough away that she couldn't get it from where she's sandwiched between the boy from 7, who she's... protecting and the boy from One, who's attacking. I swear under my breath and step between them while he's focused on Viper. He doesn't even see me coming until I drive my trident fiercely into his gut, felling him instantly.
I try to remove the trident from his twitching body but when I try to pull it out, it gets caught. I retch a little when I think of what it might be stuck on. The boy yells and shudders but he's already down and out. I feel sick as I twist the trident and he screeches inhumanly. God... I can't do this... But I have to. With a small grunt, I pull the trident out. And a pile of guts along with it... I back away from his body and throw up in the grass next to him. Gross. Gross. I killed somebody. And pulled out his guts. I start crying as I frantically wipe the blood and gunk off my trident, whimpering and sniffling like a small child.
"God, Cass..." Viper says quietly as she grabs my arm and starts dragging me away from the Bloodbath, the boy from Seven trailing after us as we run.
'You did what you had to do' Not-me mutters but I don't answer. After all, how do you argue with yourself without sounding totally insane. Not that I am sane. In any way at all.
We settle down on the top floor, by the window so that we can see the faces when they show up in the sky. Viper and I sit shoulder to shoulder, her turning a knife over and over in her hands while I replay that boy's death in my head over and over again. My legs are resting across Caspian's as he absently traces circles on my knee. And the boy from Seven just sits in the corner without looking at any of us.
"This is the first time we get to fight together..." I remark to Viper as we watch the sky, waiting for the faces to show. We were split up the first half of our Games, this is our chance to be a real team.
"Well we're going to be a kick-ass team." Viper grins but I can tell her heart isn't in it. She's lost in thought just like the rest of us.
Caspian is already asleep, muttering about somebody named Nadia and somebody named Safia over and over again, when the anthem starts to play. I feel bad for him; I know what it's like to miss your family terribly. I wonder what happened to his. And mine. Viper's. Any of our families. I pick up my head from Viper's shoulder and look out the window to see who has left us already.
The boy I killed, from One.
Viper's District partner; she doesn't even blink when his face appears.
The boy from Three.
The girl from Six, Caspian killed her.
The boy from Ten.
And the girl from Twelve.
Six down, six dead again. Their lives are really over this time. But we're still here. Viper and I are still here. For me, that's what matters. Not the dead, even though there are tears dripping down my cheeks, the living. My friends matter. So it's okay. We'll be okay. Safe and sound.
"Goodnight..." I yawn as I rest my head back on Viper's shoulder and close my eyes. I know I'm going to need the energy tomorrow so I decide I might as well get some sleep. Viper isn't going to sleep anyways, she's too afraid.
"Sweet nightmares, Cass..." I sleepily swat at her as I drift off, but I know she's right. I'll probably have enough nightmares tonight to last me the lifetime I had missed. But I don't care enough to stay awake.
Dreams are better than reality anyways.
You're safe in your dreams...
For once, I'm safe...
Caspian Halycon
The last time I was in the Games, Nadia was here with me. My sister brought us both to the Games, let both of us die, and now here I am. She's gone, in her place is a crazy brunette that I KNOW I've met before. And I'm here. For some reason, I've been condemned to die again. This time I'm alone. Nadia isn't here to trip me up but she's also not here to keep me going. I have no reason to live without her. Yet here I am.
Maybe I'll reach out to those two girls, the crazy one and the angry blonde. They seem close, which worries me just a little bit seeing as they might turn on me in the end because they have each other, but I think I'll be able to make enough of an alliance with them. Hopefully. They already remind me of my sister. The two parts of her, that is. The bitchy, brave Career and the unstable, bubbly child. Maybe I won't do that just because they remind me of her. I don't need any more reminders. The bracelet around my wrist is enough of a reminder.
"Focus! You're not focusing! You can be so stupid Cas..."
"You're not stupid. You just can't give up, okay? You have to try."
I clamp my hands over my ears when I start to hear their voices. Nadia. Safia. The two most important people in my life, one of whom is dead and the other's fate is a mystery. I don't want to hear their voices anymore. They're gone. I lost them years ago and I can never have them back. Nadia, my baby sister, is dead. Safia, the only girl I ever loved, might as well be dead. I will never get them back. So I want them to go away.
"You have to win for me, Cas! You promised you were going to win if I didn't! I'm holding you to your promise, Cas!" I can almost see Nadia in front of me, demanding that I win. She tosses her blonde hair over her shoulder and crosses her arms as she fixes me with a glare. I did promise, I know...
"You know, you owe it to me... You left me... You left but now you have a chance to be back again... You owe me, Caspian Halcyon." Safia's voice is softer, as always. She stands next to Nadia with a pleading look on her face, her fingers nervously toying with the end of her braid. I do owe her...
I shake my head and they're not there anymore. Of course not, they weren't there anyways. They're gone. Why can't I just accept that already? They're gone and they will always be gone. No matter how much I want them back. If my mind is going to torture me and bring them back, it could wait until I'm not getting ready to fight to the death again. There's a time and place for insanity and this is not it. Not at all.
There's a loud noise off to my side and I almost fall off my pedestal in shock. When I look over, there's an empty pedestal and chunks of... person raining from the sky where the boy from Three had been. I grimace and look away. Great. I knew him too. He had been in my Games, Zar. I watched him die twice. How ironic... A chunk of his body lands in my hair and I frantically wipe it away, retching a little. I don't want to do this again...
But the gong rings and I know I have no choice but to stagger off my plate and run. I was supposed to run away from the battle but something urges me towards the Bloodbath, towards the weapons and the murder and the fear. I don't know why I'm going this way but I don't care. Everything is happening too fast for me to stop it. I don't remember the Bloodbath being like this last time, it was much slower. Then again, I had someone on my side to keep me from dying last time.
You can tell I'm not paying attention because I run straight into my District partner and the trident she has ready to stab my brain out. Nadia used a trident, I always preferred a scythe though I used one too. But the trident was always Nadia's weapon of choice. And now I have a girl who reminds me of her pointing one at my face. I see another pair of broken green eyes looking at me and I know I won't be able to kill her. So I just shove her aside and hold for the best.
There's a cracking sound when head hits the fountain but I'm too busy getting my trident and my dagger to notice until I stand up and she's raking her weapon across my shoulder. I cry out and stare at her in shock, surprised that the seemingly weak girl would do that. Her head is bleeding.
"That was rude! You should apologize!" She yells a bit childishly and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. This is a fight to the death, she should be thanking me for not murdering her like most people would.
I don't apologize, I whack her across the face with my trident. Not enough to seriously injure her but enough to leave a mark. She screams when she realizes her face is bleeding before dropping her trident. I expect her to keep freaking out about her face but she doesn't, she yells and tackles me to the ground. Well, not tackles me. More like jumps on me and knocks me off balance. I let go of my trident as my training kicks in, deciding not to murder the girl I want as an ally. Instead I roll so that I'm pinning her down as she thrashes and cries out like I'm killing her.
I'm expecting the other half of the duo to come barreling over and beat the heck out of me but when I look over, she's too busy trying to cut off the head of some blond boy. She doesn't even notice that her ally is in danger... I think back to when Nadia took off when I was asleep and almost got herself killed and I know I have to let this girl go. I'm not going to be a killer yet. I'm not going to kill a girl who is my sister in so many ways.
"I'm not going to hurt you... Just stop screaming, alright? I'm going to let you go and you're not going to kill me. Okay?" I tell her calmly as I ease up my grip on her thin wrists without actually getting up. I don't want her to turn around and murder me after I save her life. Betrayal is not my favorite thing.
She nods and I get up, picking up my trident and back away so she has room to get up and get away from me. She hesitates, staying on the ground for a moment before grabbing her weapon and getting up. She fixes me with a confused stare like she doesn't understand what I'm doing but I don't hear her complaining about me saving her so that's good. She keeps staring, so I just stare back. I know I know her. She's so familiar. Maybe it's because she reminds me of Nadia. Or that she, if she had grey eyes and red hair, looks like Safia. It's something, I know it.
"CASS! STOP EYE-SCREWING HIM AND COME HELP ME" She jumps when her friend's snappy voice interrupts whatever the hell this is, her face turning red. I try not to laugh as she runs away and I go in the other direction. Maybe I should just try to do this on my own. I don't need allies. In the end, Nadia and I split up. I didn't need her. I can do this.
"Turn around, Caspian. You're not going to do it alone." Safia's voice disagrees with me and I shake my head. She's not here. Not real.
"Cas, don't be an idiot! You need allies! Unless you want to be totally fucked, then go ahead and keep walking." If this were really Nadia, I would scold her for her language. But she's just a figment of my imagination. She's not real and she needs to go away.
I'm so busy trying not to listen to the voices in my head that I don't see the girl from Six until I'm barreling into her, my trident digging into her chest when I do. She screams and swings at me with the stick in her hands. A stick. Really? Even I think that's pathetic and I'm the most pathetic person I know. I pull my trident out and stab her again so she'll just stop screaming. I'm not a fan of killing for the sake of killing but she wouldn't have lasted long anyways, fighting with a stick.
One more stab and she's falling to the ground, coughing and twitching a little before she's still. Her glazed-over eyes are staring up at me and I shudder a little. I don't think I'll ever get that image out of my head. I have to bend down and close her eyes just so I stop shivering in fear. It's just creepy... Nadia wouldn't have been afraid. She killed a boy and laughed about it like it was a game. She thought it was a game but it wasn't. It still isn't.
Out of the blue, an arm wraps around mine and tugs me away from the girls' body. I'm about to shout and slash at them with my weapon until I look over and see it's my District partner dragging me along. Cassia, her name is Cassia. It's a flower. They grew near our house. The blonde girl is in front of us, she looks back at me every few seconds. And the boy from Seven trails behind like he'd rather be anywhere else but as part of this group. Cassia smiles at me as she unwinds her arm from mine, glad that I haven't run away yet. Maybe I'll have allies after all.
"Told you, silly goose."
"Ugh. Shut up Saf."
I can't help but laugh a little at the conversation going on between the imaginary Safia and Nadia. It sounds like what they'd really say. If this is a hallucination, at least it's a good one. It's kind of nice to hear their voices. Cassia looks at me when I laugh. But not with a concerned look. She looks at me like she understands what's going on in my head. Then again, as far as I know, she might.
We don't stop running until the blonde girl- I think her name is Viper, like the snake- takes a sharp turn and runs into one of the abandoned houses. We're on the second floor before she stops. She's breathing almost frantically, in the panicked way I hear myself breathing when I think I might die of stress. But she doesn't break down, Cassia does when they hug. I feel bad for the girl as she sobs into her friend's shoulder. I wonder what their Games had been like. What they went through. But I'd never ask.
Atlas settles in a corner as Viper, Cassia, and I set ourselves up by the only window. They sit so that I have to turn my head to look at them, shoulder to shoulder as they think about their own worries. They seem close; like Light and Gloria from my Games, an unstoppable team. I wonder if they were the ones to kill Nadia... I stop thinking about them and think instead about home in Four. Cassia rests her legs on top of mine and I trace circles on her knee like I used to when Safia sat like that.
I don't remember falling asleep but I wake up to Atlas snoring and Cassia murmuring about tea parties and evil queens. Viper is still awake, staring out the window with blank eyes. I'm not sure why but I wave my hand in front of her face to break her gaze. It's dark out, they must've shown the deaths by now. I should at least ask who's gone...
"Don't do that again." She scowls at me and bares her teeth. I can tell she doesn't even know she's doing it, it must be a habit. I remind myself not to piss her off again.
"Who died?" I ask, pointing at the night sky out our window and trying not to roll my eyes at the scowl she's giving me. She's just a freaking ray of sunshine...
"Boy from One, my District partner, boy from Three, girl from Six, boy from Ten, and girl from Twelve." She says dryly, discussing the dead like she'd discuss the weather. She rests her head on top of Cassia's and closes her eyes, ending our conversation and leaving me on watch. Great.
Six tributes down, too many more to go. I sign and lean against the wall behind me, unable to think about anything except for all the crap I'm going to have to go through. And I don't even know if I want to win.
"Of course you do, Caspian."
"Don't be stupid Cas."
And with the helpful opinions from my delusions, I sigh and start carving shapes in the floor with my knife.
This sucks.
Pisces Bastion
DROPPED OUT!
Rhea Nocturne
All I see is grey.
The faded grey of the pavement, the cool, steel gray of the skyscrapers surrounding the square. Even the sky is gray, every single bit of blue hidden by tall buildings and dreary rain clouds. It's almost calming, but not enough to make me forget what's about to happen next. In sixty seconds, this very asphalt beneath my feet will be stained with blood.
My goal; to make sure that blood isn't mine.
To succeed with that goal, I don't have time to think twice. I'll have to get my hands dirty. I'll have to kill. The thought of killing again makes me feel strange. I cannot tell wether it is good or bad, but it's definitely there. It's not exactly fear, but it's not overwhelming confidence either. I guess I'll just have to wait and find out.
Lucky for me, I don't need to wait long. The cannon sounds only seconds after I complete my thought, and in an instant I'm sprinting to the fountain. The sound of all of us sprinting creates a drumming sound that echoes around the square, but I don't bother to listen. I have a job to do, and it's not to watch people run.
I don't even make it to the fountain before I hear a scream. Shrill and loud, it makes me feel like my eardrums are shattering into a million tiny fragments. The first kill of the Games has been made, no doubt by one of the careers.
Launching myself over the edge of the fountain, I land right in front of the large pile of supplies. Not much of it has been taken yet, but I can still notice a few noticeably large bags and weapons missing. I don't bother to speculate on who has what though, my mind entirely focused on the task at hand. Making a kill would be favourable, but my main goal is to make sure it's not my or Dayta's face shown in the sky tonight.
Dayta. I had almost forgotten.
My eyes quickly scan the square for any sign of my ally, but I don't even see a flash of platinum blonde hair among the mob. A heavy feeling settles in my stomach as I recall the high pitched scream from earlier, but I quickly banish the thought from my mind. Dayta's fine, I'm sure. She wouldn't go down this early without a fight.
Yet, the pit in my stomach will not go away. I try to distract my mind as I shove at least a half dozen throwing knives into one of the bags, but as I grip one in my hand and rush back towards the bloodbath it's still there.
Not now Rhea. Dayta's alive somewhere. Don't freak out.
Almost everyone seems to be involved in a fight. Even tiny little Unicorn's fighting over a bag with one of the younger girls. Sadly he ends up being no match for the small girl, who quickly kills him with one quick stab. I can tell it pains her to kill such a young child, but she'll do anything to save her life. This time around, nobody wants to lose.
It's not long before I find my first target. The little boy from Eight stands several feet away from the others, his eyes scanning every fight for a sign of his sister. He's too distracted to notice me as I creep up behind him and plunge my knife deep into his back, causing the poor boy to cry out in pain. Before he can scream for his sister however I slit his throat, watching as his blood pools around him on the asphalt.
It's the same red I pictured, before these games even began. It almost makes my stomach curl, just watching it. The cannon sounds, and as I kick his body to the side, I try to smile. I've proven to Panem that I've still got what it takes to win, that I can still kill.
As I walk away from Pintuck and the pool of blood, I finally catch a glimpse of Dayta. She's studying the contents of several bags, no doubt taking whatever she thinks will help us most.
Just as I begin to run forward I spot the boy from Four, running at me with a knife in his hand. My aim will never be as good as Dayta's, but with one swift throw he's down. No cannon sounds, but it isn't long before someone else leaps forward and the cannon booms once again.
"Dayta!" Her electric blue eyes shine of relief as they catch mine, swinging a bag over her shoulder. Her eyes cast down at the knife in my hand, still stained with Pintuck's blood.
"The boy from Eight," I explain, my voice sounding a bit more confident than I would like. It's similar to the cockiness I displayed during my interview, but this time displaying pride instead of assurance. "His sister was going to get a bag or something. I doubt she'll recognize him now!"
Dayta's eyes cloud over at the word brother, and my breath catches in my throat. I had completely forgotten about her two brothers, both dead because of the Games. Colbalt I remember had died two years before our games, while Wyre had been reaped ten years later. Dayta had heard the news soon after they brought us back, and based on her face right now she still doesn't believe that he's actually gone.
If I upset her she doesn't say anything though. We just start sprinting, using every ounce of energy I have left to get away. I've made one kill. That's enough for now. There's no need for me to murder any more than I have to.
A bloodcurdling scream sounds from behind me, and I whip back around to see Dayta in tears. Her head's in her hands again, and I'm at her side in an instant. They warned me about this. Even though I've never been with her when they've happened, I've been told enough to know it's a hallucination again.
Dayta falls to her knees and chokes back a sob, her hands shaking as they reach out for something that's not even there.
"Volte," she murmurs, barely able to speak through the flood of tears. Her youngest brother, that I remember. I'm reminded of Pintuck's blood staining his face for a brief moment, but quickly push the thought away. This isn't time for guilt.
"Dayta, it's not real!" I scream, my eyes beginning to water as well. She doesn't seem to hear me between her sobs, her eyes focused on the empty asphalt.
"Dayta!" I pull her up from the pavement and begin shaking her, knowing very well that it will not do anything. She just continues to sob, her eyes cast at the pavement below. "Come back! It's not real!"
This time, it seems to register. The tears don't stop, but instead she pulls me into a tight hug, sobs still shaking her body every few seconds.
"I saw him die," Dayta gasps between sobs, making sure not to let me go for a second. "My baby brother. He was dead, I saw-"
"Ssh, it's okay," I say, hoping my attempt at comforting her isn't going as badly as I think. "It's not real. Volte's fine."
Her attempt at a weak smile brings a real one to my face. She doesn't want Panem to think she's weak, that I know.
Because in reality, this girl is as strong as it gets.
Maximum Powers
Everything was dead, including the boy who had just took his own life in front of me. I stood in shock, looking down at Zar's twitching form at my feet. Upon running to the Cornucopia, he had found a knife nearly as long as my forearm and turned to me. I thought that that was it. I was going to have to say goodbye to my second chance of survival, but that wasn't the case. Zar twisted the knife inwards at the last second, just as I was aiming a kick to his nutsack, and thrust it into his own body. He gasped and choked and gargled, his eyes bulging, before finally falling still, his bloody mouth agape. He couldn't take it anymore; the Hunger Games is just as terrifying the second time round, trust me. I still felt the same rush of adrenaline and fear that I had felt in my first Games.
Twisted, leafless trees fenced in the little ghost town and small cottages lined the lanes, their windows smashed and their doors boarded up. They offered very minimal protection but I ran to the shelter of a tiny vicarage house, tucked behind a back road and away from the main streets. The Careers were already ganging up, working in a military fashion as they bashed in doors and clambered through broken panes of glass to haul out the trembling underdogs of the Games.
The vicarage, my safe haven, was a basic and insignificant place. I had entered via the front window, which was left ajar only slightly, like it was made for someone my size, and had landed face first in the lounge area. I couldn't decide whether the grey matter that covered the floor was carpet or dust, but it smelt musty and tickled the inside of my nose. I got to my feet shakily and scanned the room. A chair, a coffee table (complete with a mouldy mug), a TV left on static and a painting of the Capitol skyline as it might have looked a long time ago. It wasn't very comfy but I decided then and there that this would be my haunt... No pun intended.
The only bit of the vicarage I didn't like was the view. Not two hundred yards across the road was the gates to the town cemetery. I watched in utter horror as the Careers dragged Zar, Glittering, Aston, Arianna, Jack and Bailey through the gates. Six already dead and we'd only been in the arena ten minutes. I watched as they lay them in front of random headstones, ready for collection by the Capitol hovercrafts. As two of the Pack, Avarice and Viper, turned and ran back down the cemetery path, I ducked down beneath the windowsill out of sight. Nerves racked me senseless and I discovered there that death had changed me. I had lost my bottle. I wasn't Maximum Powers anymore; I was really was a ghost of him. Silent sobs took over me and I cried, crouched down and hugging my knees. Something dull throbbed in my again-beating heart, making me wish it'd just stop so I didn't have to feel it anymore.
Atlas Meridios
DID NOT TURN IN!
Chikere Ainsely
The glass door of the podium slid shut in front of my face, concealing me. I watched the glass panel steam up as I exhaled, leaving a cloud of mist to block the view of the room I stood in a few seconds ago.
This is it. The arena will be in my view in a few lagging seconds. The seconds that feel like hours as I wait for the moment that's left my stomach in knots since I was resurrected. Where should I look? Up? Down at my feet? Should I stare fruitlessly into the darkness in front of me? Maybe I should glance down at my shaking hands? The breeze whipped my face and twirled as my hair fluttered behind me. The pedestal I stood on rose slowly until it clicked into place. Before my eyes was a fountain. No water, taint less or murky, spouted from the miniature statues located around the edges and centre of the marble object. Tributes gazed at the things we could see. After marvelling at the dull fountain, I decide to take in my surroundings. Brick buildings are positioned around, blocking anything beyond the boring towers. Not exactly an exciting arena, but it could be worse. I could've been located in an arena with lots of sand again. I notice Aston to my left, getting ready to run. He doesn't gander at the other tributes. He's focused on the clock, watching the number decrease. To my right is Pisces, looking down. I look down too, trying to picture the mines beneath my feet. One step and I could be free. Free until I'm most likely revived again. I wonder if my family can see me. What of they don't watch the games anymore? How many years has it been since I died? Was it last year or was it over a decade ago? A gong sounds, making me jump. I may as well charge into the bloodbath. If I live, it'll show I'm worthy. If I die, I'll be free again. Sprinting with all the power I have in my legs, I reach the fountain behind Avarice. All I can see is stacks of metal blades and piles of different coloured backpacks. Bailey's body is slung over a sword. The wound in her stomach spouted crimson blood over a few packs. The stench wafted under my nostrils, wanting to make me throw up. I have no time to stay here. Turning quickly, I kick whoever advanced towards me from behind. After my foot made contact with their stomach, I realised I'd kicked Viper. I grabbed whatever I could from the piles of goodies. Viper rose from the floor, gripping her gut. A look of impurity and vulnerability was in her eyes, as if she was too broken to swing a sword or throw a knife at me. I fled from the fountain, watching people chase each other, unsure whether to kill them quickly and spare them the torture they dread, or whether to slowly and painfully torture them; let the psychopathic side of them take over. I almost bumped into Jack as I inspected the other tributes. He held a dagger in his hand, but he didn't look like he was about to kill me with it. The blade glinted in his hand and I knew I couldn't let him win. The troubled criminal was building up inside of me again. My arms were forcing me to use the axe that I'd retrieved from the pile of weapons. I lifted the heavy weapon up, up high. He screamed, noticing the blade in line with his blonde locks. Blood splattered onto my shirt as I drove the axe through his head. I laughed, remembering the overpowering feeling I felt during my first games. It wasn't until I saw Aston fly back, a knife lodged in his chest, that my mind internally screamed for me to retreat to whatever lurked behind the buildings. The next thing I know was an arrow whizzed past me, whistling as it soared through the air. It missed me by an inch or so before the too buried itself into Adrianna's neck. Her face became expressionless, emotionless, before she collapsed onto the floor, blood seeping from her ghastly neck. I didn't need to be reminded again. Gripping the axe I'd taken, I managed to find the strength to force my shaking legs to run away from the blood and gore behind me. Run from the fountain stained with the blood of demoralised tributes. I don't know why I'm running from my inevitable death. I want to be dead again. I'm already dead inside. What's the point in staying alive and hindering the victor's escape when I could be placed back into the coffin I should've stayed in?
Pintuck Taylor
I remember being afraid the first time I was in the Games. I remember my Stylist telling me I was going to be okay; a lie I had foolishly believed, even as she hid her frown. The darkness now was the same, cold and lurking, sucking the last bit of safety from me. Nobody goes into the arena twice, especially not if they had died in between.It was hard not to wonder if I should be afraid or not about all my competition being old tributes like me. They had died as well; they couldn't be anything special. Yet, something about them made those two girls bring them back. I knew why I was here; I was the child killer, the hotshot nobody had thought could win, yet because I accidentally killed one person, was made out to be someone to watch for.
Surprisingly, when the gong sounded, announcing the Games start, I felt numb. My body moved by itself, running towards the Cornucopia as other tributes fell around me. It didn't even cross my mind to make sure my sister was still alive, just like the first time I hadn't checked for my supposed allies, which had been part of the reason I had died. Some part of me was back in that split up arena, thinking about impressing Ramie up wherever her spirit had gone. Now I know it was hopeless; all the afterlife was, was darkness.
It didn't take long for me to find that large pair of scissors I had fought with before. These were newer, shiny; sharper. It felt like a gift, and I questioned when I had started enjoying the feeling of a weapon in my hand. Maybe the Games had shaped me more than I had originally thought.
Yet I didn't allow myself to slip like I had last time. This time, I ignored everyone, I didn't let myself accidentally run into the bigger man and outsmart him, in turn taking his life. I ran for the buildings, seeking safety, and realizing now as the adrenaline rushed from me that I should have been spending as much time as I possibly could with my sister. So I climbed, knowing it was what she would do, knowing the birds eye view would help.
*Used sponsor bonus. Automatic 12*
Ramie Taylor
Even with my memories back, it was hard to think, sometimes images I knew couldn't possibly be memories floated to the front of my mind, and sat there, mocking my inability to figure them out. Some of them made no sense, yet I couldn't throw them away, as if my mind thought they were special, and every thought I had since waking up was worth keeping. Even as I wished they would go away, I wanted more to come, just so I could lose myself in them for a few minutes before I remembered why I was here and what I had to do.
After these confusing messages, Pintuck was first on my list of priorities; getting him out of here alive, this time for real. I needed to protect him, even if he seemed so much more capable than I had last seen him. He had to have been keeping a haunting secret from me, and when my body appeared in the sunlight dappled ghost town, I knew that this moment was what would show me. The breakdown of every tribute started with the Bloodbath; me included.
His face seemed weathered when I looked at him avoiding my eyes, yet also convinced of something. Maybe he was remembering his past arena, which no details had been shared of. If he hadn't watched my year on the television and known it all better than myself, I don't think I wouldn't have been able to bring myself to tell him either. Now, all I could tell of my young brother's sanity was from fleeting glimpses when he thought I wasn't watching, and his too big or too contained actions.
Pintuck didn't know how to act.
The Games had confused him, dying, and being brought back to life was probably even more confusing, and now fighting in them again. If he wasn't there to occupy my own thoughts I would have been confused and worried for myself as well, but didn't he have me? No, maybe he didn't, because I was his elder sister, I wasn't suppose to share worries with him; I was suppose to protect him, be brave, and show him there was nothing to fear.
I really was a lousy sister, now that I think about it.
Not that its my fault, it is completely the Games fault for making me feel so isolated from my own feelings.
The gong sounded, and I leaped forward, watching out of the corner of my eye as Pin ran for a large pair of scissors, and grabbed them. He paused for a minute, a strange gleam in his eyes, then, ran for the cover of the buildings, where I figured I could find him if I climbed and looked at the small city from the highest points.
Yet Pin wasn't the only one making their way into those shadowed alleyways. Following behind Pin was a male, big in both build and height. If I didn't know how far Pin had come last time, I would have assumed this male would easily take Pintuck, and win, yet Pin was smarter now, and I figured he could take care of himself if he needed to. But Pintuck didn't need to; he had me, the third pair of hands neither side was aware of.
Without another thought to the dying tributes of this Bloodbath, I found the bag containing the pins I had always fought with. They were held the same way they had been last time; easy to reach quickly and easier to carry around, with a strap to hold them to my waist. Quickly strapping the belt there as I ran I made my way silently behind my brothers stalker, jumping at the nearest fire escape to get above.
Pintuck looked behind him, seeing the bigger boy, and ducked away often, confusing the man. I was glad Pin didn't want to fight this time, as it was obvious he had before, yet a sliver of cowardice slipped past me, wishing Pin would just kill the boy for me. But no, no, I was going to save Pintuck and myself this time. I had to.
The boy stopped below me, looking around for the little child who had avoided him for the fourth time. I knew exactly where Pintuck was, which was in an adjacent ally just a few feet away, hidden by a pile of old crates. The opening lay out of sight, and I knew I had to keep the boy from seeing where Pin had disappeared to.
I knew I could hit him, I knew I could kill him. Yet as I grabbed a large, narrow, stretched pin, I felt my hands shaking, and sweat slicking my hand. Taking a deep breath, I calmed myself, drying my hand before holding it steady, ready to throw.
"For Pinny," I mumbled, and crouched, right hand held out to throw and left still just above a loose piece of metal. Then, when the boy below had his back turned, I brought my left hand down quick, and just as the boy turned I threw, the razor edge of the pin piercing his eye. He dropped to the ground, a scream of agony caught in his throat.
Not wasting any time, I jumped to where he was crouched and grabbed his sword from where it had fallen and been left. He didn't look up as I stopped beside him, but from the way he tensed I knew he was aware of my presence. Clumsily, I held the sword over my head with two hands, pausing for only a second to speak; "Never stalk hoping to kill a little boy with a sister."
And then his head was gone with a cannon's blast, separated from his body with the vicious edge of the blade I had now claimed as my own. Leaving it would mean it would kill me by another's hand, I had seen it happen in my last Games. It was like a religion I had suddenly took up and now believed with all my heart. Anything to survive.
Sighing, I whipped my brow, cleaned the sword on the boys shirt, and after adding the stealth to my back, moved towards Pintuck's hiding place, only to find it empty, holding a lack of little boys within its shelter.
Panic raced through me, and I was soon on the rooftop scanning the streets below. I couldn't seem to breath, fear jumping across my bones. Then, another cannon shocked me, and without thinking I started shouting; "Pintuck! Pintuck!" Yet he didn't answer, and with a sense of dread, and unspilled tears, I ran across the rooftop, hoping the next time I saw my beloved sibling, he wouldn't be watching me from the sky.
Azure Featherlin
DID NOT TURN IN!
Paradox Rememberance Winters
DID NOT TURN IN!
Kateri Armena
USER DELETED ACCOUNT!
Peppin Potts
DID NOT TURN IN!
Annie
DROPPED OUT!
Unicorn... Inferus
DID NOT TURN IN!
Sorry for making you all wait so long. Life is really screwy sometimes and just messed this week up for me.
Sponsors: Scores are due Monday, March 3rd. I hope it won't take as long to get those posted.