#soac82a2

Location: in the d

Items: tetrodotoxin, sword, nails, frying pan, pack

Injuries: a shit ton

“Ew.” I mutter to myself as I drag the boy’s body out of the stables by his feet. His body slides along the ground, bringing with it a trail of blood, but no matter... this must be done. I refuse to sleep in a place with such an ugly, deformed body next to me. Besides, this means the Capitol won’t have to bother me in order to retrieve his body. So, with that in mind, I toss Genesis’ body out of the stables, clap my hands together, and return to the stables.

Returning inside, I gather my items as well as Genesis’ and sort out what I want and don’t want. Now that there’s barely anything in my pack, I toss the remains of his pack inside. Once that’s done, I toss away both his pack and his pitchfork. It was a useless weapon that I did not need. The knives, however, I liked, so I kept them on me.

Looking out into the sky above me, I wonder about Dina and her reaction when she sees the newest message I have left for her. Unfortunately, for her at least, I have seen no messages for me. Perhaps she was all talk and no action? It seems that way, at least. Oh, well. For now, I shall prepare myself for my future endeavors.

I lay motionless in the shop, sighing in both pain and exhaustion. I somehow remain alive after the fight of my life but just barely. It feels like my entire body is on fire but as soon as I go to take off my jacket I feel the wetness of blood so I’m too scared to take it off. If anybody were watching that they’d know how bad I must feel right about now.

“You’re weak, girl. Weak and stupid. And you’re going to die soon.”

I jolted awake, my heart pounding and my blood rushing in my ears. It takes me a minute to regain my bearings, but as soon as I do, I realize that Gvenna is staring intently at me. Did I scream? It’d been years since my nightmares had evoked an external reaction, but there was always the chance my body betrayed me.

I’m not sure how long I was asleep and I wished not for the first time that there was a clock for us to refer to. The sky is still grey, but the rain has let up a bit, thankful. Standing, I brushed myself off and picked up my axe which had fallen off my lap during my nap. 

I dream of Vodka’s fingers around my throat.

Groaning as I pull myself out of a nest of blankets, I touch my neck gingerly. There is no bruising or tenderness as my mind would lead me to believe. A sigh of relief escapes my lips, and I try to shake the feeling the dream leaves. I push it from my mind; I am not afraid of him.

This is what I tell myself, anyway.

Folding the little blanket and putting on my dried clothes, I know that the many of the other tributes must have slept outside last night. I’m still warm from the dying fire, bones comforted by the small hut’s walls. I have to leave soon. I don’t want to, but I need to start moving.

As if reading my mind, I hear a snap. Whipping my head around, I see the wall behind my slump. The wooden boards lean down to the left, and than I hear another bump. And a crack. And than I’m standing, grabbing my things and booking out of the hut. I stumble on a rug, and a piece of wood smashes into my shoulder. I curse, propelling myself forward and out of the collapsing house.

Well, at least they didn’t light me on fire.

Looking back, the cabin continues to pile in on itself as if it is a living landslide. I stand in front of the structure, watching it visibly decay into a pit of logs and dust. My shoulder is sore from the escapade, red from abrasion, but it’s a blessing considering I’m not bleeding. Or dead. I shiver, the cool air outside meeting my cheeks. It’s much colder than inside that building, and it’s even damp from a night rain.

I tug the shawl up and over my mouth, keeping warm as I start walking. It’s quieter than the day before, no loud footsteps and rustling in the leaves. Yet, anyway. I follow the path that I came, with no sign of other tributes so far. From the bloodbath yesterday, I’m not that surprised I haven’t run into anyone yet. There’s less than half of us left, from what I gathered from the anthem the previous night.

I halt in my step when thinking about it, gritting my teeth, remembering Vodka’s damn note in Eleven’s blood. Somehow, I think that it’s going to be a pattern.

And what kind of wife would I be if I didn’t respond?

Continuing on, I focus on being quiet and figuring out where all of these paths lead. I turn left, away from the bloodbath graveyard, and start down the path I haven’t explored yet [11].

Not far into my expedition, lo and behold, is a small shelter that isn't that well hidden. The girl from Three is curled inside, her dark hair shrouding her face. I draw near, sword in hand, and crouch down to eye level. She’s leaning on a tree, fast asleep.

It would be so easy to just decapitate her.

“Naughty naughty, nobody likes a thief...”

Hearing these words I immediately snap out of my dream, desperately trying to locate the origin of the sound. Seeing no one after inspection I try to make a run for it but unfortunately instead of the front door I find a beautiful woman, dressed in all white, blocking my way out. She stares intently into my soul. My goddamn soul ok. By the looks her and the obvious signs of the arena she must be a vampire mutt, a creature that is neither alive nor dead. Kinda like me except without the blood lust.

I need make like The Exorcist and get the hell outta here.

There is no sun to greet us in the morning. Instead, a light rain taps me awake, gently prying open my eyes and reminding me of the deadly arena. Of course, that’s not the only thing I’m reminded of. I also wake to the sight of Rowan sleeping next to me. She’s very, very pretty--and very, very close. 

I bolt upright, hands flying to my chest as to keep them to myself. Every muscle in my body yells in protest. I nearly yelp in surprise at such soreness, but I clamp my tongue between my teeth, wincing at tender limbs. Damn running.

As I bite back any further hissing, I try to shake away the sleep from my head. Scan the area. Squint through my discomfort. And then, catch a glimpse of what may be a set of ghoulish eyes, peering through dampened trees. I can’t be sure though. It may have just been a trick. But all the same, I immediately hiss out:

The feeling of wetness wakens me from my peaceful slumber. Eyelashes fluttering, I am extremely disgusting and annoyed to find that it has started raining. Fortunately, it must have just started so I didn’t just sleep through an entire storm, but I’m still damp. Getting up and grabbing my things, I start towards the exit of the graveyard when I notice that the gates are starting to close.

“Shit.”

Digging my feet into the somewhat soggy ground, I kick off and start sprinting towards the gate, running at the slowly closing metal as fast as I can. For a second, I genuinely think that I’m not going to make it. However, when I reach the gate and slip through right before they close with a loud banging sound, I sigh in relief. That would have been extremely annoying to have to try and climb over the fence. I mean, I’m sure I could have done it, but still, annoying.