Blood stained Daryl's hands as he tried to stop the bleeding, his whole world stopped at that very second. Andrea was dead, and Cyndie was dying right in front of him. "No Cyndie no..."

"Get them... Win." She whispered as her eyelids fluttered.

Daryl sobbed as he slowly stood upright, Rosita and Philip were laughing as they made their way down the hillside. A cannon went off the second Daryl took his eyes off her, fitting she died in the water he supposed. He growled as he pulled the knife from his pocket, they would come to him he knew it. So he needed to make it so there were better odds. He flipped them off as he took off down the river running back towards the cornucopia. He was out of arrows, and he needed better weapons. Rosita and Philip growled, taking off after him, Daryl dodged knives as they came towards him.

Daryl continued to run, he needed to get out of their eyesight.

Everyone was on the edge of their seats, no one could believe how many people had died within the last hour. Daryl's anguish over Cyndie and the chase was captivating. Daryl made it into the cornucopia. He picked up a better bow and found more arrows, Rosita and Philip broke through the treeline. Daryl let another arrow fly, Rosita clutched her throat as the arrow hit her neck. She dropped to her knees, blood dripping out of her mouth. Her airflow was cut off, the arrow stuck.

Philip ignored his dying companion and lifted his shield.

Daryl was waiting for the cannon, he almost felt bad for the agonizing death she was about to endure.

Daryl watched Philip as he grew closer, every arrow Daryl let fly hit the shield and bounced off. Daryl grabbed a sword near his hand and began to approach him. Philip smiled, he liked the challenge. He pulled his own sword out and two began to go back and forth, Daryl jumped as the cannon went off.

They were the final two.

Daryl honestly didn't think he would ever get this far.

He never expected to actually be a victor, everyone said it but he never anticipated it. Philip wasn't going to let up on a victory so early, he was determined to win.

He was determined to kill Daryl, no matter what he had to do.

Daryl dodged the sword before Philip pulled a knife out of his back pocket. Daryl let out an exasperated cry as Philip slammed the knife into his eye. Daryl stumbled back, blood pooling down his face.

Philip smiled as he swung with his sword, Daryl was disoriented but he wouldn't stop fighting. Everything felt off, and he knew Paul was likely in a fit. Daryl swung his sword, and he heard Philip let out a groan.

The two continued to spar, Daryl wouldn't pull the knife out knowing it would cause more damage. Daryl fell back tripping over Rosita's body. Philip took the chance and attempted to stab him but Daryl quickly pushed the sword up into Philip's chest. Blood pooled over Daryl like a puddle as Philip made one last attempt before his heart stopped beating.

If he wasn't the victor he wanted no one to be the victor.

He cut quickly with his sword, Daryl screamed as his hand was severed.

But the final cannon went off, and Daryl slowly stood as blood dripped from his newly wounded limb and his wounded eye.

Somehow he won.

"The victor of the 42nd Hunger Games. Daryl Dixon, of District 10." A voice screamed out.

Daryl wavered in his spot as he stood, he knew everyone was watching him in horror. He had killed plenty of the district's children, and now he was disfigured. He lost his dominant hand, and was blinded in his left eye.

He won but at what cost?

He was picked up the same way he was dropped off into the arena, and he was quickly carted to a hospital to be checked over and healed if possible. He would be permanently blind in the left eye, and they were unable to reattach his hand but a crystal one was being created under the orders of Negan and his family.

Now for his future.

There was still the winners talk show, and the winner circle where he would be forced to go to each district and thank them for their sacrifice. There was also a possible 'royal' wedding. He wasn't ready for any of it but he knew he had to participate. He would forever be a pawn to the capital now, and while he was pleased he had won and didn't lose his life so many others did and they would continue to haunt him every time he closed his eyes.