take this sinking boat {argos scylla ww}

That night the sky alights with three faces, two of them being at our own hands. And nothing comforts me more.

The Argos were impossible to defeat. No, not impossible, there was Kiera, and Atlas, they had been slayed so easily. The Argos were a force to be reckoned with and always would be, until the end of these games, which would be ending soon enough that was for sure. How many days were left, most Games lasted what, eight, nine days? Nothing beyond that, and they were already on say five, and after the anthem finished it would be day six. It had been six days in this twisted river, running to and from areas trying to find others, most times successful, sometimes not. But in those six days, I have never felt more like I knew people.

If that made any sense, of course. Never in One had I had anyone that I could particularly call friend. Sure, there were cases that I thought, maybe, just maybe this time, someone would come and listen to my rambles about the shades of red gems, but never. Not once. But here, we were family. The anthem seemed to drag on tonight, the melodies ferociously pounding through the air with only the dull throbbing of pulsing water below it. The boy from Five appears first. The twisting sensation is nearly unbearable in my stomach as his hollow face fills the sky. What was his name? I never knew his name and yet I'd taken his life from him, and that wasn't something that had bothered me until this point.

Perhaps it was because today was the first day I'd eaten since the beginning of the games, some nibbles of plants that Wes had found in the forest yesterday. I meant to eat them yesterday, I did, but I couldn't - my stomach wouldn't let me. And now I knew why as I felt the burning sensation in my stomach move slowly up to my throat. Everywhere. At once any remnants of food that were still left in my system had exploded along the river. I felt bad for whoever would drink from it next, for now there wasn't only blood, but vomit too. I had killed a boy whose name I didn't know. I knew his home, but not much of it. Did I even know the boy from District Four's name? Morgan? Something like that but I couldn't be too sure, when did I become such a monster, a killer without an inch of sympathy. Was it when we thought we were Gods? Life had only proven that I was nothing but a narcissistic wannabe God, who went around killing the innocent.

I was Peridot Myler, I was a killer. I was Peridot Myler, I was still a little boy.

The anthem fades quickly, but with three faces I couldn't make out besides the boy boy from Five, and Greaseball who I knew was up there, I wondered how Aria felt. Today, she'd been so down, but so had I, and so was Wes. The feeling was there, the tension that soon enough we would have to leave each other - leave the comfort of each others trust, there were only eight left and that meant that soon enough there would be a victor. Soon enough two of the three of us would be dead, if not all three. But I was determined to ensure an Argo win, I wouldn't leave this arena, dead or alive, until I made sure that one of us three went home. That was for sure.

Sleep came easy that night, for some reason. I'd taken all my turns for watch, and with a split on the horizon, it seemed only natural to try and sleep what I could before I had no one to watch my back. The sky's onyx stones winked goodnight and the moonstone said it's final goodbyes for the day, Little Boy, Little Boy, you're so close now. I know Dad, I know.

The morning comes slowly, groggy and with a headache that pounded so hard a skull could break. Perhaps it was from the sick that I'd left all over the ground the night before, that was a pretty solid guess anyhow. Packing up was never a quick job any more, there just wasn't enough energy to go around where we could pack up everything as quickly as we used to, when we had Kiera. When we had energy. Energy died with Kiera Dempsey, but we lived on, and that was all that mattered. The river laughed as we passed through, knowing that this was probably the last time that it'd see our faces. Fourth and last. But it's laugh was probably that of knowing it would never see us together again, and how right that was River, how right that was.

As we walked down the cavern to the underground, the darkness was comforting, sane almost. There was nothing to jump out at us as we walked through the tunnels, and there was nothing dangerous - just yet, at least. The rough walls were my only guide, rock that would only be home to a miner, a district two, a district twelve, but rocks had always been my friend in one form or another. Though I doubt that if I took my glaive to the wall I'd be able to carve out any sort of diamond, no, Kiera was the diamond and she'd shattered.

But as I walked down the cavern, I counted, there were eight left. Eight. It was good to know your enemy, but I had hardly learned anyone's names - hell, I didn't know Aria's until the first Day when I'd begged her to come. There was me, that was District One, that I knew. That I knew well. Peridot Myler, at least there was one name that I knew for sure. Kiera was dead, dead as a doorknob. Atlas was dead too. Argo after Argo. His partner was still alive, the Amazonian girl in the all-girls group, they'd lasted much longer than expected. But they were cutthroat, they'd killed their own. Three was dead, in the bloodbath and in the sky. Four was dead, by Wes and my hands. Five was dead as well, Aria's ally, and at my hand once again. The burning came back a bit, tossing at me, reminding me that I didn't know his name. Six, one was bloodbath - but the girl was still out there somewhere, hiding in a tree, hiding by herself somewhere. Seven, the boy was alive, or so I assumed. He was with Aria once upon a time, but she had a new family now. Eight, was Aria, Eight was Bran. Both the Wolfe's were still both kicking, but that couldn't be for long, it just couldn't. Sooner or later a Wolfe would die. Nine was Wes and all of his glory, with enough ego to fill both of his Districts spots and as I heard his heavy pounding of boots behind me, it was for sure that he was still alive. And then there was only one left, it was one of the girls, either the one from District Twelve who'd turned on her ally that faithful day or the girl from Eleven who turned back on her friends. The odds were against Eleven - but they always had been.

Soon enough I would find out, the night was only twelve hours away, and that would mean that victory was even closer than it was before.

The cavern let out in a different place than it had before - a meadows of sorts with plants erupting from the ground, sad and dead looking. They hardly even looked like plants to begin with, super sad weeds growing out of the ground perhaps. This place had seen devastation, that was for sure - though they hadn't been there, the signs of trampled plants and bloodied dirt could only mean that more than one death, or fight had been on these grounds. It was insane to even think that things happened beyond what they knew - but of course they did. There was no way that they didn't, the Argos were strong, but they hadn't killed sixteen. The ground was littered with boxes, probably from above as the cavern had seemed to collapse in on itself while they weren't looking, had there been a sea above them? Perhaps those were the red stains on the ground, not blood, but one couldn't be too sure these days. Trampling over more plants, I explored the grounds, leading the way as usual, that torch seemed to have been passed on to me since Kiera died, leading the way.

I heard the noises before I saw them - tributes, of course. The Gamemakers were luring us together these days bringing us closer and closer to the end. "Aria." I whisper, just audible enough for her to hear me as I stop in my tracks. "Aria - it's Bran." Sure enough, before them sat, well, dragged(?) a small boy who looked frazzled, and scared. Bran Wolfe had survived six days in this arena, and clearly not as well as his sister had.

The rumbling started soon after, a roar vibrating and seemingly killing every single plant around them, the mutts were slowly getting more and more dangerous. What, with the Kraken last year, there was no way that a roar of that sorts could ever be good. And it wasn't. With the roar getting louder and louder, a monster appeared, with four heads, and eight tentacles. Gamemakers seemed to have a thing about heads this year. The dog they'd fought on day three had three heads, but this one had four, and for sure that dog didn't have the whipping tentacles on it. "Shit, shit, shit." I looked over to Wes and Aria, who was clearly still stunned from the sight of her brother. "Guys, we have to go - we have to -" A roar once again, this thing was determined to kill, that was for sure. "Argos, let's go."