Chill You to the Bone [ID v. LPG]

There’s something so frightening about the way the dark enfolds the entire arena in a total emptiness we call night. Too many people are afraid of the dark – hell, I’m surely afraid of it – and yet I can’t see how some people can love this feeling of dim anticipation. I don’t have control over what will happen next; for all I know, Beatrice Birch could come around and stab in the back right now and I would never see it coming. I hate this feeling; I hate it more than anything, because I know I don’t have control over everything that goes on around me. Someone out there might know more than me, and the thought of that is scary.

I’ve been living with this anxiety since the day I entered the Moreno household and realized that unless you locked your bedroom door when you went to sleep, there was a ninety-five percent chance you’d be killed that very night. Luckily, I don’t have to sleep tonight. Instead, my job is to keep watch, which is quite a relief because I therefore don’t have to worry about Iago slitting my throat while I’m dreaming and whatnot. I look at Iago’s sleeping face and wonder how such a calm and composed expression can be that of such a monstrous boy. It would be so easy to kill him now and get this fear out of my head, but fear is honestly all too exciting to erase.

What I learned about Iago yesterday has only left me with more fear. A psychopath is scary in any regard, yes, but when someone that insane can feel something: when they have a vivid background, a bank of memories, and emotions that somehow drive each and every one of their mad actions – that’s the scariest human being of all. I can’t let Iago have any more of me, not a single inch of my past, because who knows where that will get me in only a matter of days?

Light stretches across the sky and soon enough, everyone’s awake and prepared to start walking again...except for Iago, who is still sprawled across the ground. I roll my eyes and kick him in the side until he wakes up. Stuck in dreams now, are we? If anyone needs to wake up and realize we’re in the damn hunger games, it’s definitely Iago, especially after all the crap he was saying yesterday.

We start moving, away from the orchard and towards what seems to be…a giant ice cube? I look around, but almost slip when I realize that there’s water beneath my feet. And then there's the alliance from yesterday...again? I roll my eyes. Three days in a row and we haven't gotten rid of them yet. "Go away and stop following us!" I shout. "You all want the same fate as your little friend, Hope? Fine, then." I pull my fists forward and attack the tongueless boy. Might as well get rid of the easy targets while I'm at it.

[attacks Shadow, unarmed]
[dice=200+5000]
[Gash/Bruised Right Shin - 3]

Our days are numbered from the day we take our first breath. Every single second that passes is another towards the last day of the rest of our lives, and that is, in a way, comforting. If you haven’t yet thought about how or when you’re going to die, however, I would suggest starting because we were kind of walking into the middle of another death match. I mean at the time, I didn’t know what was going to happen, but really, this whole place was a death sentence so you get my point.

The night had been slow to say the least. We had run fleeing for those last slivers of life that still hung on inside us, and camped out somewhere quiet (except it’s never really quiet when you can hear absolutely any and everything that happens). We had lost hope, literally and figuratively, and you could easily tell it had impacted us all, and not just because our numbers were now down. I may be on death row but I will most definitely make puns until I die, I mean I absolutely can’t waste the opportunity.

The three of us had huddled together, but I was still a tad cautious of the boy that was now with us. When Hope was here it wasn’t so bad, I trusted her, and therefore trusted the boy, but now it was kind of hard to have blind faith in him. However, now was not the time to question where loyalties lie because with each dreadful dusk there is an equally bad dawn. So we all kind of curled around each other, it was a tad awkward to say the least, as three people isn’t a good match for anything, but we made it work. Shadow slept against me again, and once again, sleep wasn’t much of an option when every noise jolts you back awake.

But, the night did pass, as all things eventually do, and for once I was actually glad to see the sun making his slow way up into the sky. I hate waking up, no matter how much sleep I get I am always in sore in some kind of way that I hadn’t planned for. I have got to change the position of how I sleep. After the few minutes of painful stretching were done, I walked back to Shadow and knelt down beside him. He was still asleep, and I guess that was good, as he would need all the rest he could get as we were probably going to have another craptastic day full of loss.

So once again, I moved to behind the boy and hoisted him up, facing the sun, and singing, hopefully not loud enough to be heard by anyone, but loud enough that he might in fact, wake up. I would tell you what I was saying, but really, I don’t know what I was saying myself. I felt him squirm in my arms just a tad, and because I really didn’t want to drop him, I set him down as gently as I could.

Brendon seemed to be awake, and with that we seemed to all come to the conclusion we should probably keep moving. We could’ve stayed, but really weighing the risks that could come with it only made it logical to move on. So we packed our little collection of things, and went on our merry way. Kind of.

I wasn’t really paying attention to where we were going, and it was kind of nice to be zoned out, even if it was just for a couple of moments. Cole, home, comfort. It was all I wanted now, and I knew it was a wish that would never be granted. Shadow was my Cole, this arena was my home, and there was absolutely no such thing as comfort anymore.

I would’ve never realized where we were approaching or what we were even doing at this point if it wasn’t for Shadow. The gentle tug on my shirt shifted my attention to his small figure beside me, and for once, even I was awestruck. “A giant ice cube, are you actually kidding me?” I wasn’t sure who I was asking, maybe Shadow or Brendon, or maybe all those who watched from above. It took me a minute to get over my annoyance and decide that it probably was a good thing because we did really need water.

But bad cancels out good.

And that’s when I saw them. The people we had just fled from in utter terror, standing before us again. I instinctively pulled Shadow a tad closer to my own body, wanting more than anything to turn tail and run. I could feel each and every muscle in my body tensing as each step was just one more towards a death that could no longer be avoided. They all looked pretty unscathed, and I was as well, but even with that, there was still the number problem. That being, we really were outnumbered. We were only down one, but that makes a pretty big difference when you are, I don’t know, fighting for your life.

[attacks Scout Watson, flail]
[dice=200+12000]
[12144 - miss; 0]

I a g o
I z a r – M c C l a i n e

•••

{And if I was a child}
{And the child was enough}
{Enough for me to love}
{Enough to love}

•••

When boys and girls fight here, I’ve often noticed how quick they are to forgive one another. Sure, there was the vengeance in Shadow for my life yesterday, but today he has gone for Scout and ignored me completely. Whether out of fear or perhaps his brain cells finally clicking into motion, I’ll never know. But I marvel at the forgiveness that seems so prevalent amongst my competitors. They beg for it, as though this is something that they can earn. Still, they swing their swords with the tiniest of hesitations, as though a semi-fatal blow will provide them with a reprieve of what consequences they have wrought. I imagine they believe in those foolish notions of heaven and hell, or some sort of afterlife where all of us will be transported to eternity. How endlessly comforting it must be, to know that you’ll be forgiven for your sins, if only you are forgiven hard enough.

But life is not about forgiveness. Perhaps they have all forgotten that we are children, that these are games, and that we must play to win. There will never be a sorry from my lips, no praying for forgiveness for the life (and lives

It has to be the apple.

I stumble again towards that giant ice cube, my insides wiggling and twisting, but suddenly, they thrust and I vomit. This time, it takes me to my hands and knees, tears streaming down my face. My stomach is searing in pain, but it’s not over yet and a second wave of retching overcomes me and I collapse nearly face-down in my own pool of sick.

The smell is unbearable, but I’m shivering and shaking, hardly strong enough to pick myself up off the ground. Why had I eaten that apple? Was I poisoned? The thought sends shivers down my aching spine. I’d seen it many times in the Games, tributes defecting or vomiting their ways to death as their insides are consumed with fire. Was that going to happen to me? The tears are flowing hot and freely now, cutting trails of dirt into my face. I’m bleeding somewhere from the lurch upon me by those other tributes-I was poisoned and they were still trying to cut me down. Didn’t they know I was done for anyway?

Iago, Emery and Ewe fight wildly around me. Emery still hasn’t picked up a single weapon, but delivers punches of fury either way while Ewe and Iago shed blood like no one’s business. Soon, they have to notice me, crumpled upon the ground, vomiting my own stomach. All I want is the water to soothe the fire in my belly, but it’s too far away. All I want is Ardal, to soothe the fear shivering upon my limbs, but he, too, is too far away.

I want to draw myself into a ball and cry, but this can’t be so. I fling my tattered teddy bear off my bag (in my hurry, I had left it tied on top of my bag) and surveyed the red bumps up and down my arms. It was the teddy’s bear fault, causing my skin to be riddled with itchy sores, and it was the apple’s fault that fills my belly with sharp knives, agonizingly stabbing me as I try to push myself up onto my shaky legs. Maybe I can fight this sickness off. I just need water. I just need my father.

My flail is too heavy, but I concentrate all my remaining energy in directing it at what might be the final blow between me and sweet, sweet water.

[attacks Brendon, flail]
[dice=200+12000]
[crushed skull-X]

I a g o
I z a r – M c C l a i n e

•••

{And if I was a child}
{And the child was enough}
{Enough for me to love}
{Enough to love}

•••

I’m so close to Brendon that when Scout’s flail comes down, flecks of blood and brains scatter across my face. I stand, my glaive suddenly heavy and sinking down to my side just as Brendon’s body goes tumbling down to the ground. Holding a hand up to my cheek I wipe a piece of blood between my fingers and look to Scout. In a moment she’d made a liar out of me—taking Brendon from this world and destroying the remnants of his skull, making his head unusable as a toy. His brains likely mixed with the water at my feet, and I push my toes along the edge between the red and pink. A numbness comes, but not from the cold. I look back toward Ewe and Emery who’ve dispatched Shadow, but the pathetic boy slips from their grasp and disappears with Cassie back toward the horizon.

“Hey kid,” I say to Scout with a grin. “Look what you did!” I motion to the scatter of blood and skull at our feet. My face still flecked with blood, I move closer. “His head looks like ground meat before my mom puts it on the skillet. Man,” My face is close now; eyes narrowed and voice giddy, “You did good.” A flutter of pride passes through me, mostly for the blood and ruin we’ve brought to the arena. I put my hands on my hips and let out a snicker. “I heard that calf brains are a delicacy in district ten. You think his would taste any good?”

I joke hoping to get another rise out of her—lest she forget where she is and take too much pride in her kill. My sickly district partner couldn’t get too comfortable with her lot. I turn to look back at Emery, and begin to furrow my brow. She’d told me to shut up during the middle of battle.