Fear is a strange thing. It doesn't pounce on you like most predators, consuming you in an instant, rather it tickles the back of your mind lightly like a feather brushed across the hairs on your neck. It sends terrifying images into your head, images of blood, death and agony that slowly consumes every inch of your mind. Every shadow becomes a tribute with a knife and every inky black corner holds a mutt with blood oozing from it's razor sharp teeth and before you know fear has you like a puppet on a string, controlling your every movement.

It's actually quite brilliant, really. I wished it were possible for me to attack the other tributes like that, then I could just kill them all without even touching them and actually stand a chance. I'd be free to go home and rediscover my previous life that Tabula Rasa had taken away from me. As soon as the thought entered my head I found myself feeling nauseous, how could I be so cold? How could I be so willing to sacrifice others for my gain? I remembered the trainors, how they had tried to get it through my head that killing was alright. I knew better, they were trying to steal the last thing from my previous life that remained- my humanity. I refused to budge as the other flames threw theirs away as if it were nothing. And so I had become, 'Saragateus the Flame Who Wouldn't Kill'. I was quite alright with that title too.

But I had proven myself wrong. I shuddered as the faces of the tributes I'd killed earlier flashed through my mind and a deep ache throbbed my chest. Really the only thing the trainers had to do was put me in a situation in which my life was threatened and I would have become just as inhuman as everyone else.

I hugged my knees to my chest as I looked around the darkened room of the castle in which I'd settled down for the night. It was dim, the only light streamed in from a small window in the tip of the arched ceiling. The thick dust in the room caught the light and sparkled, it was actually very pretty considering that dust was actually composed of about seventy percent dead skin cells. The dust was the only thing pretty about the room, the blood red draperies of the large bed behind which I ducked were torn to shreds as if some wild animal had clawed them. The furniture lay strewn about the room creating a barrier between me and anyone who might try and kill me. On three of the four paint-chipped walls of the room hung three portraits framed in elaborate gold and dusty jewels, they held the faces of dead tributes. The frightening lifelike eyes of Carlis, Shadow and another tribute I didn't know peered down at me.

I stared at Carlis, I'd seen him alive not five hours before. I remembered his gritted teeth and steely determination as he stared at the cornucopia at which he would die. I shuddered looking over at Shadow, I didn't know much about him except for the fact he had really nice hair.... perhaps even nicer than mine? I fingered the lightened end of a strand of my hair and held it before my eyes. I looked at the frayed ends for a long second before realizing my hair was absolutely perfect. I smiled. Even if I was a screw-up, even if everyone disliked me, even if I was a bloody axe murderer; I would always have the best hair and no one could take that title away from me.

So a long, dearly description filled story short; the scenery wasn't helping my mood in the least, but the castle had given me enough cover to bandage my wounds and sort through the supplies I'd managed to grab at the bloodbath. I could still feel the limp body of the girl that I'd ripped the backpack from fresh on my fingers. The corpse... it had felt so.... empty. I don't think I will ever forget it the sensation.

I took a deep breath and tried not to think about it, but the more I tried to push it from my mind the more I tried to rid myself of it, the more it invaded me. I hugged my knees to my chest, shivering. Yes, fear was definitely trying to take me over and it was winning. I wished I wasn't alone, I really did, but loneliness had been my only companion since I'd woken up a flame. For the thousandth time I found myself wondering why people didn't like me and for the thousandth time I found myself having no idea. Having someone would make this so much easier....

I grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder, trying to ignore the throb in my side from even that slight movement. There was no point in staying here, it wasn't like I was going to get any sleep. I picked my knees up and awkwardly stepped over an overturned desk, then around the legs of a chair. Each footfall seemed a thousand times louder than my head knew it was, it didn't stop my body from tensing each step though, expecting a tribute to jump from the shadows ready to pierce my heart.

Suddenly a blood curdling scream ripped through the castle making the hair on my neck stand on end and my heart stop. I didn't dare move for a long second, the scream had sounded nearby. Very slowly I straightened my back and swiftly took the final steps to the door, peering around the corner into the darkened hallway. Nothing but stale air and a dimly illuminated hallway greeted me, I ducked back in the room breathing a bit easier. Perhaps it would be better to stay put? I had no idea what the right course of action was.

My decision was made for me when a earsplitting crack ripped the heavy drape of silence that had otherwise cloaked the castle. A startled cry escaped my lips as something crashed onto me and I collapsed to the cold floor. My legs were flailing and my arms were clawing me free before I'd even grasped what had happened, before the lifeless weight had registered in my head, before I felt the cold skin against my warm skin, before I laid eyes on the lifeless body of a flame sprawled prostrate on the ground. I didn't have to see his face to know who he was though, the realization sent shivers racing down my spine like electricity. It was Juggernaut, the unbeatable, unstoppable and supposedly unkillable flame.

Seeing him dead was perhaps even more terrifying than seeing him alive, because whatever had killed him was probably directly above me.

Then I was running. My heart felt as though it exploded in my chest as I tore blindly down the hallway, the sound of my heavy footfalls ricocheting off the seemingly endless hallways behind me. I wasn't thinking, I couldn't think. Fear had me at it's disposal, nothing I did was in my own mind. I don't know how far I ran, I don't know where I ran all I know is that when I finally did stop my breath had ripped my lungs raw and sweat had begun to trickle from my forehead. I shuddered, stumbling over to the wall and pressing my back against it trying to catch my breath. This was going to be a long night. These were going to be even longer games. I let out a long breath and pinched my eyes shut. I felt the endorphins from my sprint ease through my ridged veins like silk.

I sunk to the floor and grasped my forehead. I was falling apart, my nerves were unraveling with every long creak of a floorboard and with every sudden flicker of a light. I remembered stealing the papers from the Flame Training Facility a month or so ago back when everything was alright. 'I understand that the flame Saragateus may strike you are a peculiar choice for the games, after all if you look over his documents he clearly lacks the mentality to last very long in the games despite his outstanding combat and survival skills. I completely agree that he might be prone to a mental breakdown in the games, however either way I think he will prove to be very interesting.' The words flashed through my mind and crashed down to my chest, they'd been right. I was nothing more than a tower of cards waiting for a breeze to blow me over.

I needed help. I couldn't do this alone. This wasn't like the years I'd been condemned a misfit by the other flames where I could just wallow my days away in training and deep thought, this was my life at stake. I couldn't see myself winning no matter how hard I tried, but if I was going to die I'd like to have a friend to make it easier. Getting an ally though would be so much easier said than done, it wasn't like I could just walk up to them and ask for one and even if I did, I couldn't see anyone in their right mind agreeing. I didn't have much to offer. I'd have to force them into the agreement.

Even as I stood up I felt the light tingling of fear in the back of my mind, already returning to try and take ahold of me, it wouldn't grab me so easily this time though. This time I was going to have an ally to help me fight it off and I was sure we would be undefeatable.

With painstaking caution I slowly twisted the gelid knob of the door nearest to me and eased into the chilled room my eyes scanning the once grand office that now was merely a shadow of it's former beauty. If you looked closely you could still see hints of it in the chipped but hand painted tile floors or in the once polished dark mahogany desk. Directly across from me I saw what I was looking for. Throwing a hesitant glance over my shoulder I walked across the room toward the large dirty window so covered in grime that I could barely make out the rose garden beyond it. The window wasn't what I was after though, it was the dust covered scarlet curtains that framed it. They would serve as a perfect net for my trap. I figured that trapping my possible ally would be the best course of action because if things went wrong they couldn't kill me and I could stab them with relative ease.

And so I painstakingly constructed my trap from the little knowledge that I'd gained in training on the subject. When it was complete I sunk into the shadows of the office perching myself on a delicate wooden chest in the darkest corner of the archaic office. My heart throbbed in my ears as I waited in the thick tension for my trap to spring and for my ally to be revealed- assuming everything went as planned, which in my case, was virtually impossible.