Warning: Mature Hunger Games Content

It was dawn when he woke up, body quivering and sweat dripping from his messy black curls. Hugh Wellben's eyes dilated till they were near black, darting about the still dark room. Slivers of orange light filtered in through the windows, casting strange shadows about empty racks of clothes and mannequins laid about the room. He looked around seeing them in the shadows, the creatures from his nightmares; the lean girl with almond skin and dark heavy eyes, a bloodied finger playing with her corkscrew curls; a one-eyed boy with muscular dark skin swinging an ax towards Hugh's his stomach.

Hugh quickly grabbed the small knife to his left, gripping it with clammy palms and trembling fingers. His eyes began adjusting to the light, the shadows revealing themselves as the hunks of harmless plastic and metal they were. Hugh cursed under his breath, his heart slowing down as he realized it was all just a dream. Ark was dead- he knew that. He shook his head unable to forget the face of the boy who killed him. Finn... His lips started to curl into a smile at the thought of him bitterly frowning as he remembered images of the boy's death- a pale and weak boy collapsed onto the hot white concrete, barely able to hold in his intestines as blood spilled out, staining the sidewalk. The boiling feeling of anxiety began creeping into his stomach as the terror seeped into his mind. His love, dying slowly and painfully, without Hugh at his side. It all boiled inside him, flashes of his death and his smiling and everything that happened in between... Hugh almost immediately threw up, dry heaving the little of what he had in him. He fell backward onto the linoleum tiles, shutting his eyes to try and block out the thoughts intruding his brain. "Go away," he softly muttered over and over again, his cheeks pressed softly into the linoleum floors of the "abandoned" shopping complex. He lied there for felt like hours, consumed by his thoughts. His thoughts raced like a train, his heart in turn. The world continued to spin around him until the building began to flood with the light of day. He felt it before he saw it, a soft fuzzy heat pressing into the top of his head, illuminating the glowing sweat and grease in his hair. It touched his cheeks, a tingly warm sensation. He opened his eyes, the whole floor a bright painting of vibrant reds, oranges, and yellow. His heart began to slow down, the strange sight calming him, unlike anything he had ever seen. He sat up and looked out the window, hot tears slowly dripping down his flushed cheeks. The sun- it was terrifying yet amazing. His mouth was agape as he stood up and moved further into the intense orange light streaming in from the large square window that looked out onto the city. He pressed his fingertips against the window feeling the heat of the sun, a giant red ball peaked on the horizon, ribbons of light pouring from visible flares and out onto the city. The sky was bleached by it's presence, whiter than the snow that covered the arena a few days ago. It looked as if the world was about to end. The glare began to grow as Hugh watched it rise further into the sky, soon uncomfortable to look at. The glass grew increasingly warm- soon hot to the touch. Hugh removed his hands and stepped back, the large flat room growing warmer. Once again his heartbeat began to pick up as he went to his bag and grabbed it, stuffing a small white blanket inside. Every second it grew warmer, and his heart began to accelerate even more. Soon he was treading down the stairs, his backpack slung over his shoulder. Making his way through the large glass doors of the building, he stepped outside and into the sunlight. The air was thick and humid, blistering with the heat. He looked up, the strange ball of red light having rapidly moved to the center of the sky. There was no way it could be real... Yet Hugh stood there, light burning the tops of his cheeks, wondering if this was the end. He swallowed hard as the heat sweltered, sweat beading on his neck and arms. He watched in awe as swirls of black clouds moved in swiftly across the sky, curling around the sun, never touching it. The clouds were darker the night sky, like melted swirls of iron and lead. That's when the lightning began. Hugh shuddered as strikes of white lightning began arcing from the sky and onto the buildings below. The whole arena erupted in the cacophony of hell as hundreds of lightning strikes shot into the city. Windows shattered all about him, raining glass into the streets below. Hugh crouched to the ground as he dug out his blanket and thew it over his head, trying to protect himself. The heat continues to soar as the endless thunder raged on. What the hell was going on? Hugh hid under the blanket, feeling bits of glass rain against him as he sat on the concrete. Then suddenly, it all stopped. The seconds grew tense as Hugh hid, only able to hear the sounds of his own breath. He lifted the blanket onto his shoulders, looking out and at the city around him. The streets were littered with glass and small pieces of debris. Glints of red light reflected off of the glass, phantom versions of the red orb floating in the sky. Hugh looked upwards, the swirls of black and gray slowly moving out of the sky as if they've completed their mission. Seconds later, Hugh knew what the mission was. He took in a deep breath of relief, a strange scent lingering in the air. Hugh's eyes widened when he recognized it. It was fire. He immediately stood up, grabbing his bag and keeping the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, despite the heat. He walked further into the center of the street, his steps light and cautious as if he could be struck with lightning at any second. He paused as he looked at one of the nearby buildings, a tall silver spire. The tip was singed black by a lightning strike, small licks of orange fire dripping down the sides of the spire, towards its base. It was burning up. Somehow the metal itself was on fire. Hugh stared in amazement, spinning in slow circles. The buildings- spires, towers, skyscrapers, and intricate white marble complexes -around were all on fire. Small flames crawling about the tips of skyscrapers and the roofs of buildings. The fires were all small, pinpoints of flame on huge buildings- yet the burning scent of chemicals and dust began to fill Hugh's lungs in subtle whiffs on the wind. It didn't take Huge long to figure out what was happening. They were destroying the arena- The "Capital" itself. Just as the structure of the real Capital fell, so would the arena itself. Hugh didn't know what to do as he watched several of the buildings around him glowed brighter, small fires consuming the top floors. He tightened the straps his bag and started towards the center of the arena, the stench of destruction poisoning the sickly hot air.
-------------

Shea Prescott choked as the fumes of burning oils, dust, metal, and ashes filled her small lungs. It hadn't even been an hour since the lightning strikes and the yet the city itself was in flames. Shea cowered in the center of a black pavement street, the towers on either side engulfed in fire. The air was thick and hazy with smoke and ashes. Bits of glass flew through the wind, getting caught in her brunette air as she fought to protect her face. Her eyes stung, watering copious amounts of tears. Black smoke filled her nostrils, a putrid indescribable smell. She faltered forwards looking for shelter, she watched as the lighting hit the buildings earlier. Some of them had to be safe, not all were hit, yet in the glare of the raging flames, she could barely see. She continued forward, coughing as she struggled to find protection. In front of her, through the haze and smoke, she saw a building, a squat black building, blurry in the smog. She continued towards it, the heat around her intensifying. She felt as if she was walking through an oven, the mechanics broken as the heat increased more and more. Sweat covered her body, her clothes clinging to her body. She made her way through the heat. She was almost there. The hellish crackling of burning metal bore into her skull, the loudest sounds she had ever heard- or felt. Her head hurt, as she became dizzier and dizzier. Her steps began to lose coordination as she finally came closer to the building, the heat less intense than before. She was about fifty feet from it, it clearer in her impaired vision- a small square building, with painted black bricks and no windows. She had seen them scattered all over the arena. Usually, the doors were locked, but now the iron doors were swung wide open. They were built for this. They were bunkers.Shea sighed in relief as she dizzily made her way towards the building, a small glow emanating from inside. The fires about her continued to rage, lighting her pale face bright orange. She approached the door keeping her eyes down, away from the fires. She saw a glimpse of a shadow in the white light coming from the door. It was just a trick of the mind- an illusion cast by her dizzied mind. She stumbled to the doors, barely able to step in before she felt something enter her shoulder. Her body went numb as the realization of pain set in. She had been stabbed. She looked down, a small kunai sticking from her shoulder- a throwing knife. She looked ahead into the bunker, a barren white tiled room, with a girl standing in the center. Her almond like skin was covered in ash and soot, her puffed brown hair frizzy and dirty. She looked surprised, her dark brown eyes wide, yet alert. It was Armie Stranger, the games most lethal tribute.Shea's adrenaline kicked in as she quickly turned around and sprinted, her steps wobbly and uncertain. She ran into the streets, her hand finishing in her pockets for her own weapon. She felt a burning sting in her shoulder again, as she stopped in her tracks, the pain quickly blossoming from her shoulder, a second knife stuck in her from the back. She turned around, a weapon in hand as Armie ran up to her and tackled her to the ground. They tossed and turned, rolling on the hot pavement in a struggle for survival. Shea rolled on top of Armie, beating her with her cracked bloodied fists until Armie threw her off. She hit the ground with a thud, barely able to see her assailant through the glare of the fires. Armie crawled over to her, knife in hand, coughing and choking on the thick toxic air. She drove her knife into Shea's side, cutting through her. Shea screamed raising her own weapon, a small syringe, half filled with a clear yellow liquid. Armie ducked backward as Shea slammed it into her shoulder, pressing down the stopper. The liquid entered Armies veins as Shea quickly got on her feet and stumbled off. She looked back at Armie who woozily crawled forward, clearly confused as her senses went numb. Shea knew it wouldn't be a lethal dosage, just enough to let her get away.She stumbled forward, towards the bunker, not bothering to look back at Armie. Suddenly she stopped in her tracks, the dissonance of something collapsing rumbling about the city. Shea spun around to watch as a simple steel tower farther down the street began to sway, completely engulfed in the flames. The building began to scream and roar as it began collapsing inwards, the whole tower being reduced to a cloud of burning smoke and powder as it came crashing to the ground with the thunder of a thousand storms. Shea watched in horror as it hit the ground, in a giant cloud of smoke. The ash, smoke, and debris rumbled round it like a tsunami washing over the street. Before she could even move, the wave hit her, sweeping her up in a storm of dust, ash, and burning metal bits...Armie emerged from the ashes like a phoenix from her nest, covered in gray dust and black soot, her features near unrecognizable. She wiped the soot from her face as she stood amongst the destruction. All around her the street was covered in a layer of gray powder and chunks of metal, like it had snowed the wreckage of a demolished city. Buildings around her still burned, their yellow and red glare illuminating her dark brown eyes. Blood dripped from her brow and arm. She looked around, her surroundings still blurry from the toxin Shea had injected into her. Shea... Where was she?Armie stepped forward through the dusty, fire ridden air, powder floating off of her body with every step. She removed a small knife from her belt, one of two left. She scanned the area, her focus coming in and out. Her body was weak, her steps small and pitiful. She knew she had to escape from this hellfire of a street, but she wasn't about to let her prey get away. Off in the distance, Armie spotted a misshapen hump in the powder. She stalked it, unable to register if it was breathing. She came closer and readied her knife, hate in her eyes. She approached it, pressing her boot into the hump, rolling over a dirty beat up a girl, lying in the dust. Shea looked up at Armie, a dark shadow against the raging flames. She watched as the girl began to laugh, her cackles drowned out by the rumbling of burning steel towers. She looked down at her legs, a numb tingling sensation filling them. Laying across her lower body was a large steel beam, singed and covered in blood and gray powder. Armie made eye contact with the girl, disabled and stuck in the middle of this hellfire. She slipped her knife back into its sheath, bending over and pulling the dirty knife embedded in Shea's shoulder. She cried and whimpered, her cries lost to Armie. Armie sneered at her, spinning the knife in her fingers before stepping over her body and out towards the bunker. Shea laid there, stuck as blood flowed from her shoulder and mixed with the toxic industrial dust. The fire's around her grew as she cried, the familiar sound of demolition rising around her. She clenched her eyes shut, thinking of the last thing that made her happy- Pat. She thought of his smile as a nearby building began to shriek with shredding metal, it falling in on itself. It fell inward, crumbling down in another mushroom cloud of ash. The cloud washed over her body within seconds. Shea felt the burning was all over, choking her, smothering her, filling her lungs with debris until she couldn't breathe anymore. And yet she didn't think of death- she thought of Pat.

BOOM

RIP SHEA PRESCOTT