The Bloodbath

I stared at my training score on the screen for a good ten minutes, uncertain how I managed to get even that little amount above the average. Just one less than Kaiser. I don't know what I did to deserve that. Most of everyone else lost interest in looking as soon as they'd seen their scores but they sit on a screen in the training centre, 24/7 and I can't help but look.

"God Mason," I mutter under my breath, "What the fuck am I doing here."

The training centre isn't as full as it should before the afternoon before the bloodbath. I don't mind this as I stand and contemplate my entire idiotic existence. The clock is ticking, we're all going to be dead soon and killing each other. For a long moment, it really doesn't feel real. Faint afternoon sunlight paints the floor of the hallways outside the training room's large doorway and I stand there watching, I don't know how long for, as the light moves slowly across the floor. tick tick tick.

Why the hell am I wasting my last few hours, I'm fifteen years old and I'm never going to see anybody I love again.

Time to stop complaining and do something.

I go to the dining hall, dinner won't be for an hour but they left a tray of drinks out all day today, as if they were giving us all the go ahead for some underage drinking. Go ahead, get fucked, you're all dead.

Yeah. I find a bottle of something sharp and inhale it, cringing at how fucking terrible it is. The first gulp makes me cough but by the third, I'm ok, it goes down smooth.

Tate Seraphim ordered me to come home but that was futile. I'm the second youngest tribute, an easy target because I'm a nobody from nine. I'm nothing more than a meat shield for Kaiser Frey and I know that. "It's ok," I whisper to the bottle, "He's a really good piece of meat." I know first hand.

I toy with my glass, thinking about the other day, when he taught me how to climb a tree and then had me practice on him. I bite my lip, a blush forming on my cheeks just by thinking about it. My body was sore all the next day, but it was a good kind of sore, a warm ache in the pit of my stomach. I want that again.

Tributes trickle in slowly as dinner comes closer and I watch the doors, waiting to see when Kaiser will come in, if he'll come in. My head feels fuzzy but I pour myself another glass of whatever it is I'm drinking, the sharp sting long gone. I don't taste anything anymore. Time goes by faster and the room gets too loud until suddenly, there he is, sitting at a table. I didn't see him come in.

I rest my head on my arm and watch him eat.

I can feel my life spinning completely out of control and it occurs to me that this is a really strange way for me to kill myself. Volunteering is it's own form of suicide, being reaped is just murder, fate, however you want to look at it. The fact is, me volunteering, I didn't think about it enough.

When I rose my hand and stepped forward, my brain wasn't working with me, wasn't jogging along with the rest of my body. If it had been, it would have realized that by doing what I was doing, I was sending myself off to die. God, I'm such an idiot.

I stand up when Kaiser does, waiting for the room to stop spinning. He's fast. I jog a bit to catch up and then slide my finger into a loop on his pants, catching him, dragging him into my orbit. He turns and I kiss him, fingers in his hair, pushing through the follicles, i taste him and he's sharp against my tongue, so much sharper than the vodka burning a hole in the back of my throat.

"Your room." I breathe it out against his mouth and that's all it takes before his lips are on my neck and we're traveling.

I stay there all night long, awake too early, sweating out vodka like it's my goddamned job.

My mouth tastes like sand and the weight of Kaiser's arms flung around my waist where we finally fell last night makes me feel too hot all of a sudden. I climb out of bed and turn on the shower, letting the cold water paint my body before it heats up completely. I stand there for a long time, eyes shut. For a long while, I tip my head back and open my mouth. I don't know if I'm trying to drown myself or what.

The shower door opens and Kaiser steps in, I move over to give him more room, not that it's really necessary. It's a walk-in shower, a large square. We both fit comfortably. He reaches out and slides a gob of shampoo off my head, rubbing it lazily into his hair. For a moment I feel like crying.

I get out first and leave without a word, taking the elevator down to my stylist. The 'NASA' pin is in my pocket. I carried it around with me the entire week like a good luck charm or something. I don't think it's really going to do a thing to help me but it feels good clenched in my hand.

I sit silent as my stylist fusses over finalities. I have to look good when I die, it's important. I have to have perfect eyeliner, my contour needs to be the best in the bloodbath because if I get decapitated my outfit won't matter. Even my fucking stylist knows I'm dying today.

It'll be quick at least, I hope.

Time passes too fast and I barely register the breakfast sandwich and bottle of water shoved into my hand until it's in my mouth because someone told me to eat. Must be someone who actually believes I'm going to make it longer than ten minutes. I guzzle the water down anyway and grab another bottle, last night's vodka still thick on my tongue.

I think I'm gone again. Time passes in slides, no transition between them.

click.

I'm getting a fanny pack clipped to my waist.

click.

My stylist is fixingg my hair for the tenth time.

click.

I'm on a platform.

click.

Bright sunlight is hitting my face, refracting off a cerulean blue body of water.

click.

I look across the circle and see Kaiser.

click.

Lace.

click.

Basil.

click.

A god counts in the sky.

click.

We're running.

click.

We're running?

click.

oh god, fuck me, oh god.

ALINE

As Aline expected, the entire bloodbath is a mess from the beginning. There was a brief moment of silence before the loud sound of fists colliding with body parts occurred. She does not want to get a crushed skull like Anton Ladetto from the last games or Sabrina Larue from two games ago. Having your skull caved into your head does not necessarily seem pleasant. Hand to hand combat is not one of Aline’s strengths, but she knows how to uppercut someone in the jaw fairly well.

LARKIN