Task Description:

Antonio chases the tributes from the factory and into the ring of fire in which they must fight off zombies and be the last one standing.

I think I've managed to lose myself completely.

I was lost before, but now somehow in this swirling vortex of murder and fear it seems I've lost myself even more, I hadn't even known that was possible.  It scared me more than hell. Or to put it better; I scared myself more than hell.

I had come here to die, only to discover death scared me more than my life did. I had decided to save innocents, only for them to die. I had tried to kill myself, only to live. I had tried so hard not to kill, only to lose all control of myself and do it in cold blood. It felt like I had been running around in circles since the games had begun, despite the fact I'd sworn to myself I wasn't their pawn. I was confused. I was beyond confused- I had no clue as to who I was. And I didn't think having an identity crisis in the last leg of a fight to the death was good.

Alex and I sat crouched in the shadow of one of the machines, hiding in it's cover. The careers were hunting us, I knew they were. A brief memory of Aspen's decapitated body flashed through my mind, I let the image harbor in my mind a minute as the blade of pain twisted itself in the already deep, penetrating gash in my heart. I had failed to protect him. I swallowed the tears I felt well up in my throat as I turned to look at Alex who sat in the middle of hell with a small smile on his face as he stroked the duck (yes, we still had the stupid duck) he had adopted, tenderly. His eyes no longer appeared to look like black pits of hell, rather, the iris seemed to be a deep sky blue.

I realized that Alex had become a bit like a little brother to me over the past few days. I had never seen it coming, not in the least. He had been a freaking psychopath... but now he seemed like a normal kid... maybe he had just needed someone to care about him.  

I decided that I would die for him, so he could go home and start over... and so that I could finally die. I found myself really wanting him to have that chance, I'll admit on some level I was concerned that he had not changed and was just using me like everyone else does. The possibility of being used was a chance I had taken many times, most of which had resulted badly, but maybe this time would be different. I really hoped that it would.

Its funny what just one little seed of hope can do.

That was when all hell broke loose. The machine behind us lit up, I gasped raggedly, spinning around and jumping backwards a few steps. My heart thrumming in my chest from shock, adrenaline rushing through my veins as I realized we had been sitting underneath a screen.

I glanced over at Alex who was desperately trying to get his startled duck under control, it flapped wildly, squawking loud enough to wake the dead. 'Well there goes our last chance at subtlety,' I thought bitterly as I watched Clara and Clement swing around the corner. We  were on a roll, we had simultaneously managed to hide in front of a flashing screen and we had a loud duck to direct the careers to the screen on the off chance the had gone blind.

The blue headed girl pointed excitedly at us and she and her partner charged us, their weapons glinting in the bright factory light. I braced myself, really wishing I had a weapon right now- then they froze looking at whatever was behind me with dread.  

My back muscles stiffened, chills running down my back like raindrops running down a piece of glass. I slowly turned around, expecting to see some horrible mutt looming over me, ready to tear me to shreds- instead I saw creepy-ass Antonio's face illuminating the screen. I glowered at him, he smirked his eyes dancing over everyone in the room. Eventually falling on me where they seemed to settle, "Hmm..." His voice curled condescendingly from the machine's speakers. "So you're the ones who survived Lock Down." He sounded almost disappointed, I curled my lip in disgust. "Congratulations. But I wouldn't celebrate just yet."  

The machines started to slow, their incessant whining grinding came to a stop. I looked around seeing the careers looking just as dumbfounded as Alex and I, as if they were unsure of what they were supposed to do.

Then the lights went out, plunging us into inky darkness. My heart stopped as a few screams of surprise rang out, echoing in the dark. They weren't going to make us fight it out in the dark? Were they? 'Don't be stupid, Stone. These people serious psychotic/narcissist/sadist mental disorders and are in the need of psychiatric help- of course they are going to make you fight to death in the most inconvenient place possible.' I chided myself in annoyance.   

At that second a sliver of light sliced through the darkness  like a jagged knife. I saw two silhouettes dart through it and into whatever lay outside. I took a deep breath and ran towards it, feeling slight dread. I knew whatever lay outside would be far worse than anything we had faced so far. The Gamemakers always saved their most twisted, sick ideas that sprung from the deepest, darkest corners of their minds for last.

And we were running right into it.

I pushed through the door, bursting from the envelope of darkness into the sunlight of the end that held our future. Irony seemed to tickle the back of my mind, but I couldn't pinpoint exactly what was ironic about the situation at hand- not that it was important. I hated irony.

The dim sunlight somehow still managed to sear my eyes burning them, I squeezed them shut for a second before blinking and trying to get them to adjust. And when I did get them to adjust I wished they hadn't.

Dark clouds frosted the sky, blocking the sun from view. A chilly breeze rushed past me, tugging at my short hair. I shivered looking over to the careers who had stopped dead, looking at the damp rubble of buildings, ravaged by the title wave. Lightning cracked like a whip across the sky, momentarily alighting the inky shadows that shielded the oncoming danger from view.

Rotting corpses were dragging themselves from the remains of the buildings, their wide unblinking eyes fixing themselves on the living as they yanked themselves free and began to limp toward us, the decaying flesh hanging off them, the overpowering stench of death assaulted my nostrils.

Zombies. When I said that Alex's stupid duck was squawking loud enough to wake the dead, I hadn't meant it literally!

Speaking of the devil; Alex stood next to me, quite apparently unfazed. He stroked his duck and whispered soothingly to it. I grabbed his wrist, "Come on, duck-boy!" I yelled, breaking into a sprint for a few steps, only to realize their was no where to go. The zombies crawled from every nook of the arena, they infested every cranny of the rubble.

I backed up, feeling my heart begin pound fervently on my rib cage, as if it wanted to break free from this horror and leave me behind to deal with this mess on my own. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle as I backed up. I scanned the ground for something to defend myself with. My eyes fell upon a very familiar wooden board that had a nail sticking out of it.  I ran over and grabbed it feeling the jagged wood splinter my hands.

Suddenly a ring of blazing inferno erupted around the zombies, sealing us in with our predators like cage- thats what this was. A cage fight to the death, but really, when had it ever been anything else?

I glanced behind me at the careers who were drawing their weapons staring at the masses who lurched our way hauntingly with a grim determination..... Then I saw the girl lean forward into the boy's ear and whisper something urgently, he nodded. They turned their backs on the zombies and faced us, beginning to run the twenty yards that separated us.

I knew exactly what they were thinking. The game ended when all of the tributes were dead, if they could kill us before having to fight the hordes of zombies they could avoid it completely. Suddenly a riveting pain raked across my back , I spun around to come face to face with a zombie. I swung the board at it's face, the wood cracking against the beasts skull and sending it collapsing to the ground. Another one almost immediately took it's place, it's yellowed teeth snapping at my neck as it lunged, toppling me to the ground just as the District 4 girl's trident stabbed at the air where I had been seconds ago.

The zombie's teeth clasped my neck tering at the weak flesh. I squeezed the soppy skin of the decaying derma trying to push it away but it refused to let go. I grunted rolling on top of the zombie trying to pin it to the ground and maybe crush a few bones in the process.

I saw a sharp blue movement  above me, on instinct I rolled over, allowing the zombie to push me back underneath it. The prongs of Clara's trident impaled the zombie's back instead of my own. I heard her curse as the zombie's jaw went slack and I was able to push it off of me, luckily with most of my neck in tact.

I looked up, watching a zombie jump at Clara, she had to pause her attack long enough to  fight it. I glanced forward quick enough to see another zombie jump at me, I sent a powerful kick to it's jaw sending it tumbling backward into another zombie, the two went down like dominos.

I felt a small pang of guilt for killing them. I shook my head, they were already dead! I was so freaking sensitive! I was too sensitive! Why did I have to care so much?

I ignored the throbbing in my throat as I pushed myself to my feet, perspiration beginning to collect on my forehead, the flames sucked the oxygen out of the air replacing it with a sickly heat. Clara sent her trident barreling toward my neck, her bangs were plastered to her face with sweat, her pale skin blotchy as she looked at her with a wild look of desperation in her eye. I clutched my board in front of me like a shield and began to block.

A desperate squawking sliced through the crackle of flames and the moan of the undead like a newly sharpened knife. I glanced over at Alex who was simultaneously locked in battle with two zombie's and Clement. His duck had been grabbed by an especially decayed zombie whose stomach was gashed open. I watched in horror as the zombie hung the little white duck over his head like it was a grape and bit it's head off, blood gushing downwards from it's lips as it swallowed the head whole, the bloody disfigured head tumbling out of the hole that exposed it's stomach onto the hard concrete.

I was dimly aware of Alex's pained screams as Clara's foot punched my stomach sending me tumbling backward into the arms of a smaller zombie who's claws raked my back even more, I elbowed its neck roughly and it fell to the ground. Clara charged me to make the final blow, a steely look of determination in her eye.

For half a second I considered allowing her to do it, after all I planned on dying anyway. It was terrifyingly hypnotic staring into the jaws of death, the endless oblivion that was about to consume me- another one of Alex's screams pierced my oblivion though. I had to make sure he got out alive. I had to give him that second chance. A small voice screamed at me, demanding to know why I was so set on giving him a chance to start over... maybe it was because I wanted to give him the second chance I never got.

I sent my foot pummeling into the space between the prongs on  her trident, the entire pole jerked backward, slamming into her stomach pushing the air from her lungs. She doubled over collapsing to the ground, her trident hitting the pavement with a clatter. I jumped to my feet, looking over toward where Alex and Clement had been fighting. My eyes widened in horror, fear tightening around my neck like a noose as I watched Clement hovering over Alex who was sobbing and holding the decapitated head of his duck,  preparing to end him.

I was not going to let that happen. I barely stopped to think about the consequences as I drew back my arm and send the board tumbling through the air at Clements head. I saw the splatter of blood as it hit him and he fell, a mass of zombie's pouncing on his collapsed body before he even had time to recover.

The crack of a cannon cracked across the arena, ricocheting off my eardrums. I stared for a second in horror, I hadn't meant to kill him- only to deter him from killing Alex. I had always had a good arm, but I had hardly expected to hit him from this distance with a board.I  swallowed hard unable to rip my eyes from the zombies who gathered around the fallen tribute ripping his flesh off of his body as if it was a rare delicacy you had to fight in order to get. He had to die though, he had to die in order for Alex to get his second chance.

If there is one thing you should never do in the Hunger Games it's take your eyes off of the competition, sadly I had to learn that the hard way as I felt three prongs drive into my gut, ripping the flesh as the drove deeper. I cried out as agony shot up my body like electricity, infecting every inch of me, I doubled over and fell to the hot pavement.

Clara loomed over me, tears streaking down her grimey face. Her eyes were filled with fury as she stared at me though. If I was honest with myself I thought I saw a flicker of deep pain in her eyes as she glanced over at the mass of zombies eating her companion, I pushed it aside though. I didn't want this career who had most likely been training to kill  since she was young to be capable of feelings.... It just made everything too complicated. I settled on the fact she simply she didn't take kindly to the fact I had unitentionally killed her fellow career. Honestly I didn't take kindly to it either, guilt weighed down my soul like an anchor dragging me beneath the waves of my depression.  

I didn't think I'd defend myself this time.

I stared at her acceptingly of my ultimate fate, she seemed taken aback as if she had expected me to fight back, or break down in tears begging for my life. I wasn't like that- now I might break down in tears and beg for someone to kill me, but my life was not something I valued as much as I should. It was actually kind of sad if you thought about it. On some level I wanted to value it.

She hesitated, clearly wondering if this was some type ruse, if I'd strike out at the last second. That hesitation cost her life, because at that second a small figure threw himself at her from the side, she shrieked as the two tumbled to the ground.

Alex was screaming as he hoisted a knife above her head, "You killed my duck! You killed my duck!" He cried repetitively, my heart jumped into my throat as I watched him drive the knife down into her skin. I heard her pained grunts as she tried to keep from crying out and to keep her dignity. I tried to get to my feet to tell Alex to make it quick, but a zombie jumped in front of me, blocking my view. I scrambled backward, pain emanating from my wounds, making me cringe. It leapt at me and used my torso to swing around and crack my elbow into its jaw. It fell aside, rolling over until it stilled, either unconscious or dead I didn't know or care.

I forced myself to my feet and stumbled over toward Alex who was still stabbing and slicing Clara whose cannon shook the arena like an earthquake, making me topple to one side. I looked around, the zombie waves had thinned dramatically, the fire had seemed to inch closer to us, making the circle smaller. Ash from the burning rubble fell around us like black snow, frosting the pavement.

I looked back over toward Alex who was still irrationally was stabbing the girl from District 4. A knot formed in my throat as I slowly inched forward toward the boy I had planned to die for.  A terrifyingly creepy grin had curled itself on his face as he continued to thrust the knife downwards into her mangled derma.

Now I am not a boy with a faint heart, it takes a lot to make me sick. But when I saw Clara I felt bile burn it's way up my throat. Her eyes had been gouged out, her stomach opened with her entrails strewn in every direction, blood haloed her body, cascading from it like a waterfall. I stared at Alex, only one thought running through my mind:

No one deserved to die like that.

But then again, did any of us even deserve to die at all?

I do, I mentally answered myself more out of instinct than anything else. I numbly stepped forward and grabbed Alex's shoulder. "Alex, its okay! Shes dead." I croaked, praying he was still normal, praying he wasn't a psychopath again. "She couldn't be deader."

Alex spun around, striking my head with his elbow, I fell backward my head striking the concrete. I opened my eyes, fear tightened around my heart- no- it strangled it. My vision was doubled, two widely grinning Alex's whose eyes were blacker than the darkest pits in tartarus pointed their knives at me, "You killed my duck!" They screamed, throwing themselves at me. I rolled out of the way as the blade scraped against the pavement next to me. I looked over at him, my vision refocusing to only see one Alex.

"Alex, its me, Stone. I didn't kill your duck!" I gasped scrambling to my feet, backing up unable to take my eyes off of the boy whom I had been on the verge of trusting completely. 'Stupid, naive, gullible boy. He was using you the whole time.' A paranoid voice screamed in the back of my head. No. This couldn't be right, I prayed there was some aspect of the Alex I had gotten to know left inside of this empty corpse that now seemed to possess him, there had to be!

Alex slowly rose from the ground, his black eyes twinkling with sadness, "Don't you realize? That duck cared about me! That duck loved me like my mother never did! It was my only friend! You killed it! How could you?" He screamed violently, his voice ripping at his vocal chords, a vein bulging on his temple.

I shook my head, "Alex. Your confused. I didn't kill your duck, I'd never do that." I paused, daring myself to say the next part, the part that could hurt me the most. "I'm your friend." The words fell out weakly as I stared at the evil version of the boy I had gotten to know over the past few days...

Alex scowled, "You aren't my friend!" The words burned more than acid, they stung more than all the wounds that riddled my body, they killed more than death. "You don't care! No one cares!" He shrieked as he started to advance toward me. "You know what? I'm going to make them pay! As soon as I'm out of here I'm going to make everyone pay!" He shrieked, tears running down his sweaty, blood covered face.

It was in that moment that I had to accept the inevitable. I had to accept that Alex was crazy. Alex was crazy and homicidal. And if he lived he would probably go on a killing spree.

It's funny. No matter how many times you have to admit you were wrong about someone, it never hurts any less. Its like wound that never heals, and each time a person stabs a knife into it the gash only gets deeper. I wondered if he had ever cared at all.

I think the worst part was that I still did.

I suddenly felt teeth sink themselves into my arm, I let out a scream and sent a  powerful jab at the zombie in irritation. "How dare you freaking bite me at a time like this!" I yelled as if it cared as it tumbled to the ground. In a sudden burst of anger I crushed it's neck under my boot and it stilled.

Alex's knife drove itself into my shoulder blade, I threw myself to the ground, grabbing the zombie's arm and cracking the joint backward as quickly as I could. I heard the weakened bone snap under the pressure I applied. I stomped my elbow on the arm it was connected to and with a sickly sucking sound the decaying skin gave way. I grasped my new weapon as I scrambled to my feet as fast as I could, ignoring my body's groans of protest.

I spun around to face Alex who swung his knife at my face, I ducked swinging the decaying arm like a golf club at his side with all the force in my body. He barely finched, coming me back at me with a vicious jab at my side, I dodged as it scraped my arm. He stumbled a little and I jumped at the opportunity and swung my weapon at his neck. I watched his face light up in pain as he tumbled like the crumbling like the buildings had under the title wave. I resisted the urge to feel bad, I shoved it from my brain to the best of my ability.

I held the arm above my head, execution style and brought the arm down on his skull, hearing a crack as his body went limp. My hands shook as I slowly knelt downward beside his body, that had been easy. It had been to frighteningly easy.

I forced myself to peel the blade from Alex's unconscious fingertips. He was still alive and I had to kill him, I was glad he wasn't conscious to have to see me shove the blade into his chest. I knew I had to do it, he couldn't be let back out or he'd kill anyone he could get his hands on, but that didn't make it any easier. I tried to sooth myself by telling myself that it was one life or the life of hundreds, but what happened when that one life was someone you had slowly grown to care about on some twisted brotherly level?

I swallowed hard, positioning the golden blade over Alex's heart, this all felt too familiar, but this time I didn't have a gun pressed to the black of my head. Images of Petra from all those years ago flashed through my mind no matter how hard I tried to suppress them, blood, death, and agony clouded my senses as I hovered there a second.

I took a deep breath, Alex was nothing like Petra though, Petra had been innocent.

And with that I found it in my to push the knife into Alex's small black heart, I felt the flesh give way as the blade sliced through it, I heard the crack of cartilage and then the blade slid like ice into his chest.

I shuddered as the final cannon went off, it tore through the arena, then it tore through my heart, like an animal as it nashed my already beaten and bloodied heart. I was a killer, I was alive- I had come to die, why didn't I die? Tears strangled my parched throat as I let out a small laugh, I had come to die while everyone else in this arena had come to live and yet somehow I was left standing.

Life was so unfair.

And what did I have to go back to? My mother, the thought struck my oddly, I was suddenly seized with a deep longing to throw myself in her loving embrace and hug her.  I wanted her to hold me like when I was young and coo to me that everything was going to be alright. I missed her, I missed her so much, I realized. I missed District 11 too, I missed the long winding roads through the orchards. I missed the ripple of leaves in the wind and the fresh smell of dew in the morning.

I shook my head, I knew I could never live with the guilt. It would kill me. I had killed so many people, so many people had died instead of me, their bodies lay strewn around me in this graveyard they called an arena. Even now the pain seemed to flood my chest, there seemed to be too much sadness for my chest to hold, it seemed to be on the verge of cracking beneath the pressure.

Then it hit me, the revelation that should have hit me years ago: I had only killed because I had been forced to. The Peacekeeper had put a gun to the back of my head and said, "Kill her." The Capital had thrown us in an arena for their amusement and said, "Kill or be killed." They hadn't given us a choice in the least. I slowly spun around looking at the skeletal remains of Clement, the mangled corpse of Clara, and finally Alex's corpse with a knife sticking from it.

Tears flooded my eyes and blurred my vision, smearing the death filled landscape before me, it wasn't my fault.

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted from my heart, freeing me.  It was replaced with a different type of weight though, one of steely fury that clamped its iron fist over my soul, hazing the edges of my vision.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present the victor of The Hunger Games; Stone Everglade from District 11!" Antonio's voice rang through the arena slicing at me painfully like shards of glass- but it was in that moment that I found myself. I found the little boy who had been forced to kill his sister all those years ago. He was a man now though, who knew what had to be done.

I looked upwards, a weight crashing onto my heart as I stared at the sky, hot sticky tears beginning to stream down my face. "You bastards took everything from me. You made an 10 year old boy kill his sister in cold blood, but thats not the worst of it. Every freaking year you collect 24 kids to fight to the death for your amusement! You took everything from every single one of them! You say The Hunger Games is our payment to The Capital because we rebelled all those years ago- lies! You designed this slaughter house disguised as a game to scare us! You are fear another rebellion! You fear that the Districts will strike back against your tyranny! We outnumber your scrawny little Capital 100 to 1!" The words rolled off my tongue with a growing fury as I realized the truth behind what I said, "So you like put up this illusion that we are weak, while in reality you're the weak ones who need us! You wouldn't survive a day without us!" I paused, my breath was ragged now. "You take everything from us!" I gazed at the bloody dagger sticking from Alex's chest, I bent over, my clammy hands grasping the warm blade, "So now I'm going to take something from you." I choked trying to force myself to be brave, I wanted to go home, I wanted to start over, but this had to be done. But I never wanted anyone to ever go through what I had gone through and as I lifted the knife to my heart, I knew that this might be the bolder to start the rockslide. I would rather die a meaningful death than live a meaningless life. I hesitated a brief second, my mother's face flooding my memory, I felt awful for her. She was going to lose her entire family, this had to be done though. "I'm sorry Mama. I love you."

With that I forced a grim smile on my face and felt my last words drip from my lips like silk, "You shall have no victor."

The blade ripped through my skin sending wave of nausea running up my throat searing my throat. I collapsed on the warm pavement an ungodly pain riveting through my body like electricity. I forced myself to look up past the blood and the death that surrounded me up towards the lightning streaked sky, the one place there was no death.

The edges of my vision started to fade as a bright light flashed before my vision, enveloping everything. I was dying, but I wasn't dying from depression or sadness, no I was dying in rebellion; and what a beautiful word that was.

That was when I saw her, my blurred vision focused on the tall slender girl with the long black black hair and the twinkling blue eyes. She advanced slowly, the wind tossing her hair, her footsteps echoing in the infinity of whiteness that surrounded me. I could only gaze forward, feeling a wide arrange of emotions strangle me as I laid eyes on my beloved sister whom I had been forced to kill all those years ago."Petra." I breathed, resisted the urge to cringe as she stopped before me. I was terrified she would be mad, or she wouldn't care about me anymore.

Instead her familiar small wiley smile danced across her face as she stretched her hand forward to help me up. "Am I done?" I choked hesitantly reaching forward to grasp her soft hand, the stress of everything flying around in my head, banging on the edges of my sanity as I stared.

She nodded, "Yeah Sunny, you're done." She said pulling me up, away from the pain and agony that racked my body. "Its time to go home." She said pausing a second to wrap me in her warm arms like she had done all of those years ago

And for the first time in forever, I felt a tickle of happiness as I wrapped my arms around her, never wanting to let go. Then she leaned forward and whispered something in my ear, "You did good Stone, you did good."

~ Stone won! 2nd Victor!