Taura returned with Lua, near midday. I'd spent the time between foraging for small bits of food we so desperately needed, gathering a small piles of berries I deemed safe. 

She pushed through the brush, smiling at me. My heart stopped for just a moment, because there was no denying that Taura was beautiful. Despite the dangerous glint in her eye, the swords strapped to her hip, she was a sight to behold. 

"Hey," I whispered, clearing my throat before daring to speak again. "You're back."

Taura nodded, setting her pack down beside my berries, sitting beside me, resting her head on my shoulder. I wrapped an arm around her and she decompressed, my frown soon mirroring hers. 

"What happened?"

Taura hesitated, and so Lua spoke first. "We found two tributes. One's dead."

I glanced to the redheaded girl beside me, inhaling softly at the scent of her hair, sharp like pine trees, or petrichor. "Mei?"

She nodded. "And that girl from Four. Mei betrayed her, tried to get an axe through her neck, and..." Taura shrugged nonchalantly, but I knew better, could see through her heavy shields if I tried hard enough. "Lua wanted me to, so she's dead now. Four's alive, though."

I released a small breath. "It's better off, anyways. She was a threat."

Lua crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah, that's what I said."

I didn't like to imagine Taura killing. It was an inevitability, of course--how else could you survive in here? But still, it was gruesome, the kind of disgusting act no one wants to see committed by someone you care about. Thankfully, we hadn't yet ran into any of the other tributes while we together, so my fear functioned only on imagination. I hadn't seen it happen. 

But I would. I knew I would. And I was dreading the moment almost as much as I was dreading my own death. 

Something that was helpful to me was that Taura wasn't an inhuman killing machine, the way I'd seen so many other tributes turn in the past. She had feelings, and she showed remorse, the way she was right then, my arm around her shoulders. 

I knew that I would be there for her, whenever she needed anything. I didn't know why I chose her, still don't--but she was mine and I was hers, and that was that. 

It wasn't the sort of thing we announced, or developed, really. It was a kiss on the cheek during the group training sessions, another on the lips later that night, in my room. It was a mutual agreement of philosophies and life plans, an understanding that allies do not work in the Hunger Games, but a willingness to try anyway. 

And try we did. I wouldn't say we failed.

***

I watched as the cornucopia burned. 

Fire flickered in my eyes, orange and yellow and red licks of flame taunting me, informing me of the crime I'd just committed, one I could very easily be killed for.

There was no screaming, but oh, did it feel like there should've been. Maybe it was my own mind screaming, shrieking in pain as I pushed my conscience further and further down, drowning it beneath a sea of fire. 

I knew the careers would return soon, seeing the smoke. My Taura was distracting them, flanked by an obedient (and terrified, probably) Lua, but no distraction could deter the careers for long enough. 

They would crash through the trees, hurtling threats and insults in my direction, absolutely meaning to follow through with them. 

I pulled my sword from my belt, the one Taura had grabbed from the edge of the cornucopia before we'd ran for our lives. It was simple and brutalist, two chunks of dark metal welded together for the sole purpose of murder. It felt cold in my grip, unnatural, too heavy to wield. 

I tossed it into the fire, resolving to tell Taura later on that it had fallen during my sprint. Maybe I'd say the careers had been chasing me, and I hadn't been able to focus on such trivial things as my sword. She'd believe me.

I knew Taura.

But I knew myself, too. 

Or so I thought. 

***

"She fucking murdered Terra," Daphne spat, violently fighting against her bonds, teeth bared as if ready to eat me alive. I hadn't seen much of this girl, the seventeen-year-old pacifist from District Four, but I knew enough to notice that the Games had changed her. Pity transformed my expression, along with a glare I don't think I really meant. 

"Like Terra was innocent," I snapped back, feeling like a massive hypocrite. No, Terra wasn't innocent--but couldn't that same logic be used on Taura, my Taura? She was nowhere near innocent. How would I feel if Daphne's Terra had murdered her?

I didn't know what this girl's deal was with Terra. From my perspective, she had seemed like nothing but the epitome of blonde girl, with a cruel turn of her mouth. Not the type of person to be spoken about with the admiration Daphne definitely possessed. 

Taura emerged from her cave, a wicked grin on her face I'd come to recognize meant something bad was going to happen, something that would make my heart hurt, would make it hard to look my love in the eye. 

We hunted. It was something we hadn't done before, at least not often and definitely not with me involved, and I briefly wondered if Taura was simply trying to show off for Daphne, to appear cruel and evil the same way we had spoken of before the Games, all those days ago. 

It was working too well, seeping into my frame of vision as well. I didn't like it--hated it, even. It made my mind swim, made everything seem wrong and different. Challenged everything I'd ever believed in, made the fairytales of true love and Princes seem like nasty lies. 

Taura found Zea first. She attacked mere moments after she first noticed the poor girl from Nine, knife to her throat before Zea could do anything beyond reach for the medieval-looking weapon at her waist.

I stared at it for a moment; it wasn't the type of thing you'd see in the Games very often. In truth, it was disgusting. It reminded me of the side of Taura I'd seen only a few nights ago, when she'd murdered Terra.

"Do y'know where any of the other tributes are?" Taura was interrogating, grinning into the girl's terrified face. Her breath had grown worse with time, as I was sure mine had, too, and I knew Zea could not have been comfortable--beyond the knife at her throat, of course. But that was the Games, it was expected. 

Taura spotted something I didn't, and released the girl with a meaningful glance towards me. "He's found her," she breathed, and I nodded, knowing exactly what this meant--our plan had worked. Apollo had taken the bait, and in doing that, he had taken his death, too. 

I felt bad, but I'd begun to become numb to the feeling. The pain had lessened since the original death of Vidi, of my District partner, Nicola. Now it was merely a small ache in my chest, right where my heart was supposed to be. 

"You take care of Nine," Taura said, and it was so close to an order that I visibly winced--but thankfully, she was already gone, flaming red hair disappearing around a tree. She had left Zea with a dislocated shoulder, a wound she was already clutching tightly, her breath coming in short spurts, face shining with desperation. 

I stepped towards her, brandishing the replacement sword Taura had given me. This one was better, lighter, more made for cavalry than it was for infantry. I was okay with that. I didn't need anything flashy--my hope was always that it never got used, anyway. 

With a small shriek of pain Zea popped her shoulder back into place, her breathing steadying as she removed the mace from her belt, brandishing it. Against me. Against me--me!

The first time she leapt at me, I dodged, not wanting to fire back. The second time landed a well-placed blow along my left forearm, and I winced, pulling back. She had not broken any bones, but I would have a nasty bruise the next day--if I survived to see it, which at the time did not seem like a very likely possibility. 

I muttered a few curse words under my breath that most likely I was not supposed to say on national television, and moved forwards to jab at her chest, a strike she very readily leaped away from. I was engaged, and there was nothing I could do but win. 

She growled. Truly growled, baring her teeth at me in an animalistic sort of way, and I retreated back a step, before realizing my fault and holding my ground, meeting her eyes. They were a bit more yellow than brown, right? Weren't her pupils almost catlike?

I decided: Zea was a monster, an animal. She was not human. How could she be, with those unsettling eyes?

I struck again, most likely unexpectedly, and hit her in the side, a blow that wouldn't kill but could very well maim, landing straight along her ribcage. She stumbled backwards, hurt flashing across her otherworldly face, both hands still clutching the handle of her medieval mace, steadfast, a scream escaping her lips before she could stop it. 

We danced. I swiped at her neck, she made for my chest, we both dodged. In my periphery, I saw Taura approaching, Daphne behind her, both splattered with blood that seemed to be neither's. Good. But also bad. Weren't we supposed to be wishing Daphne dead? She was the enemy, after all. She hated Taura, which I meant I should hate her, right? That was how it worked when you were in love, and what was Taura if not the love of my life?

Evil. That's what she was. She was evil. There was no denying it anymore. I saw it in the pride displayed on her face as I murdered Zea, the happiness with my knew bloodthirsty spirit as she insisted I took Zea's mace.

I took it, seriously contemplating using it on Taura. But I didn't. Instead, I smiled. 

My gaze turned on Daphne. I wanted to be her, wanted to wear her skin, to use her face as a mask. How could it feel to be that innocent, that unburdened from the shackles of murder?

I needed to know.

She ran, of course she did. Taura chased. I didn't. 

Instead, I stayed. 

I couldn't say why. Maybe I wasn't as bloodthirsty as I truly imagined myself to be, as Taura wanted me to be. 

There was a bush along the side of the trail, scattered with edible-looking berries. I popped a handful into my mouth, enjoying the sweet taste as I crushed them between my teeth, swallowing quickly. 

That was the last time I ever saw Taura. The last time I ever saw anything, for what it truly was.

That was the moment my thoughts dissolved, and I became truly psychotic.