Hi Readers!!! 

Before we enter the Arena... I'm considering placing an updated list of the tributes that have been killed (known to Scarlet, of course), to help us readers keep it straight. I will not post it unless I have people saying they want it (it would be updated throughout each chapter from Scarlet's point of view), so if you want this, TELL ME!

Comment and remember to vote! Thank you so much for your support!

Stay safe and take care! ~ CANGEL

***

Scarlet Wolfe

     As the podium Scarlet stood on began to rise, all she could think about was the throbbing ache in her arm from the tracker they had inserted into her arm. The ache was so constant that it even overshadowed the tenderness of the fresh wounds on her back. Each day that had passed since she'd volunteered had been one step closer to this moment: Entering the Arena.

     Scarlet took a deep breath. Once the podium was fully risen, she would get her first look at the Arena that she would fight until she was the last one standing, or until she died. Embarrassment flickered through her as her stomach started to swirl. She pressed a hand to it and took a deep breath through her nose, wishing she'd thought to bring a small piece of that stupid mint candy that seemed to cure motion sickness.

     As the ceiling began to open, the temperature of the air around her dropped drastically. A shiver passed over her body, fog clouded the air around her mouth. She inhaled a deep breath as her head passed through the opening, chilled air filling and freezing her lungs with every breath.

     The clothes she wore were layered and designed to insulate her against the cold, but she thought Finnick's assessment had been right. The Arena right now, was about as cold as District 14's summer months, though with the clothes she wore, Scarlet was warmer than she'd ever been back home.

     The glare of the sun shone brightly from the clear blue sky, reflecting on the clean, fresh snow, and making it look like she was surrounded by a sea of glass. She looked around the Arena. With the cold, the snow—apart from the other tributes that were circled around the Cornucopia—she could almost convince herself that she was back home in District 14.

     She smiled, a real smile, as she took another deep breath, letting the cold air fill her lungs with familiar prickles. Uncomfortable to most, but to her, it was normal. It was a reminder of home to her.

     But the illusion shattered as she looked up. The countdown had already started. 55. 54. 53. Her mind started whirling with the things she needed to do before leaving the Cornucopia. The Cornucopia itself, a large metal shelter that housed the best supplies, weapons, and made a great shelter, stood surrounded by the tributes. She scanned the Cornucopia a hundred yards out in front of her, looking for anything that resembled knives, blades, or daggers.

     Unfortunately, she couldn't see anything from where she stood. Several larger weapons were spread out in front of the opening of the metal shelter's opening, tempting the other tributes with the thought of getting a good weapon.

    In the bitter cold, even more tributes than usual would be tempted to go there, seeking supplies to help them survive this bitter cold environment. If Scarlet wanted to get her hands on small blades, she knew she'd have to go deep into the Cornucopia immediately. Ambrosia would also be looking for them, as her skills easily outmatched Scarlet's.

     Finnick was right about that, too, then. Scarlet would be entering the bloodbath.

     She glanced up. 45. 44.

     Scarlet sat down, the cold of the podium seeping past her clothes and into her skin. Ignoring it, she started untying her boot laces. She pulled off her boots and took off her socks, tucking them into the toes of her boots. Grabbing one of the boots, she removed the shoelace completely, keeping one eye on the clock. 30. 29. 28. Scarlet untied the laces halfway down her other boot, tied those laces to the second boot, and knotted them together, leaving a short length of shoelace loose between them.

     She stood up, hanging the boots around her neck. She wrapped the other shoelace around her palm, leaving a bit of spare length hanging down. Just like the hand-to-hand fight with the assistant in the Training Center. If she needed to fight a tribute before getting her hands on a weapon, it could be the only thing that kept her alive.

     She glanced back up at the clock counting down. 15. 14. Scarlet looked to her right and saw Dawson. He looked over at her, giving her a nervous nod. She looked to her left. The girl from District 8, Penny, stared down at Scarlet's feet and then up at her like she was crazy.

     She wasn't crazy though. Even as the cold of the metal beneath her feet stung her soles like needles. Scarlet was used to running in the snow and cold with bare feet. Keeping her socks dry in this Arena would be significant the more time she spent there.

     The last thing she needed was to be stuck in the Arena come nightfall, with wet socks and no fire. If this was the daytime temperature, who knew how low the Gamemaker's would drop it after the sun went down?

     Scarlet looked straight ahead as she lowered herself into a crouch. 10. 9. 8. She took one more look around the Cornucopia, at the tributes she could see. She couldn't see Crimson anywhere, nor did she see Roe and Loach, or any of the Careers.

     Lucky for her, she supposed as she'd definitely need a weapon to take on a Career. Crimson would likely be busy executing his plan, either attacking the Careers, or attacking District 4. That would keep them away from the Cornucopia for a little while, hopefully giving her enough time to get in and out.

     She looked back up at the clock.

     3. 2. 1.

     Scarlet launched herself forward and ran.

***

     The ice-cold snow bit into the skin of her feet, but she pushed it out of her mind. The Capitol might have shown her a few days of decadence before her impending slaughter, but they couldn't erase the twelve years prior that she had spent running barefoot through the snowy and icy streets of District 14, and they couldn't erase the conditioning her lungs had breathing in the freezing cold air.

     She saw many of the other tributes stumble their way through the snow or have to stop running as they caught their breath, coughing as they choked on the cold air.

     Scarlet focused ahead. There.

     She was ten feet away from the green bag she wanted when she spotted the metallic gleam, hidden in the sparkling snow.

     Six blades already set in a holster, calling her name. Scarlet slid to a stop next to the bag, throwing it over her arm and around her back. She grabbed the knife holster and snapped it around her waist before pulling a blade into each hand.

Scarlet glanced around as she ran. It was chaos. She still hadn't spotted any Careers yet, but all the tributes were reaching some of the outer packs or had already disappeared into the woods. Some took what they could and bolted, eager to escape the bloodbath, with only a few, like her, grabbed weapons and headed deeper into the Cornucopia.

     She collided with a female tribute and toppled over top of her. The girl was small and skinny, with bright orange hair. Linux. She froze under Scarlet, but Scarlet didn't hesitate. She brought her blade down across the District 3 female's throat.

     That's one death at her hands.

     Scarlet scrambled up as fast as she could, not stopping to think about what she had just done and started sprinting once more. She didn't stop until she reached the metal cave-like shelter. Anyone—likely the Careers—who managed to hole up here would be in good shape.

     As she moved further in, she spotted a tribute in the back of the shelter, picking up a pack of his own. Scarlet flicked her wrist and watched the blade fly through the air, sinking deep into his chest. She ran over to him, pulled the blade from his body and ran the blade across his throat, ensuring his death.

     Two deaths at her hands.

     Scarlet wiped the blade clean and turned toward the entrance, keeping one eye there and one eye on the supplies and weapons around her. She grabbed the razor wire, rope, and ice hooks off the wall. Shadows danced in the reflection of the metal wall. She whirled around, quickly analyzing the bigger male tribute. 

     Threat.

     She sent a blade spinning through the air. A moment later, it sank into his eye socket, and Augustus Braun of District 1 fell to the ground in a heap. Dead. The third to die at her hands. And just like that, the Career pack was down to three.

     Turning away from the entrance, she smiled at the sight of two more blades hanging on the wall. She grabbed them, adding one to the holster at her waist and holding the other in her hand. She tossed the ice hooks over her shoulders, letting them hang down to her chest alongside her boots.

     Scanning the contents of the supply haven one more time, Scarlet spotted a can of kerosene on the back shelf. An idea started to form in her mind as she raced over, grabbing the glass container, seeing a second one behind it.

     Scarlet tossed the first one to the ground, watching it shatter against the metal floor. Then she grabbed the second one and picked up a pack of matches that had spilled from the District 11 tributes pack. Everything had lined up in place, it almost felt too good to be true.

     As she moved toward the entrance, a leg appeared at the edge appeared at the edge. She released the blade from her hand, hitting the tribute's ankle. The tribute fell to the ground, fully exposed in the opening. Her long hair splayed across her face as she rolled in the snow, clutching her wounded, bleeding leg. Pain was etched on her face, tears streaming down. Her mouth opened, releasing a silent scream of agony.

     She took a few steps toward Indiana, prepared to make the kill, when a tribute with long braided hair jumped out from the side of the metal shelter, landing next to the injured tribute. She drove a short sword through her skull without hesitation or remorse.

     The newcomer glanced over at the other corpse in the snow with Scarlet's blade still protruding from his eye. A scowl shadowed her face as she looked up into the shelter. Her eyes narrowed as they landed on Scarlet. And Scarlet's eyes narrowed back at Ambrosia as she stood, loaded up with the supplies she'd need.

     All she needed to do now was make her escape.

     Scarlet regripped the blade in her hand and her hold on the can of kerosene, prepared for a fight.

     "You're going to die, Little Girl."

     Scarlet let her smirk widen as she held up the can of kerosene, throwing it down between them. The glass shattered, and the oily fluid splattered everywhere. Scarlet pulled out a match and lit it, letting Ambrosia see the flame before tossing it behind her. Heat licked her back as the rear of the shelter exploded into flames, along with all the supplies stored there.

     Ambrosia' face contorted, and Scarlet was sure she released an angry scream as her mouth opened, her eyes fixed on the scene behind Scarlet. Now all Scarlet had to do was get out of there before the flames burned her alive.

     Scarlet ripped a short blade from the wall, wanting to save her smaller blades for when she no longer had access to the armory.

     "I'm the Wolf in this Arena, Ambrosia," Scarlet said, taking a step forward, refusing to cower before the deadly Career. "And you're the one that's going to die."

     Ambrosia sneered at Scarlet's threat; death promised in her eyes.

     Scarlet had practiced extensively in the Training Center, but her hand-to-hand combat skills weren't anywhere near on par with the Careers', who had likely been learning to fight since they could walk. Ambrosia was taller and weighed more. She could outmuscle Scarlet, and if she got a hold of her, it would likely end in Scarlet's quick death.

     Even if she managed to hold her own against Ambrosia, there was another concern that niggled in her brain. It wouldn't be long before the other Careers would join her in the opening. Scarlet might be able to defeat Ambrosia—might—but she wouldn't be able to take on all three of the remaining Careers, and Crimson.

     Scarlet stalked forward, feeling the heat of the growing flames licking at her chilled body, reminding her that regardless of the rest of the Careers, she was about to run out of time. She looked for an opening to send a blade into Ambrosia's body. That would be the quickest way for Scarlet to get herself out of this, but Ambrosia's best weapon was the same small blades around Scarlet's waist, and she knew how to defend against them just as well as she knew how to use them.

     Between one blink and the next, an arrow protruded from Ambrosia's throat. Both she and Scarlet stared at each other in shock, unable to grasp fully what had just happened. But then Ambrosia crumbled to the ground, dead, and Scarlet looked up, scanning for the threat that had just taken out the number one Career.

      She raised her blade and the small sword as a boy came into view, holding a bow with a sheath of arrows strapped across his back. Scarlet stared at Dawson in disbelief as he looked down at Ambrosia's dead body in equal shock.

     Then he glanced up and caught sight of Scarlet, gesturing for her to follow him. Scarlet didn't understand his actions, but she knew she had to get out of there. Before she left the metal shelter, she lit another match and tossed it over the second broken glass of kerosene.

     Satisfaction flickered through her as the heat licked her face. The fire grew as it ate up the supplies that had been intended for the Careers. Now, they would have to struggle just as much as everyone else in the Arena to survive.

     As she left the metal shelter, she saw the two remaining Careers rounding the corner. Scarlet threw her short sword in their direction with little skill, before grabbing a second blade from her belt. Both tributes evaded the incoming sword, diving back behind the hidden side of the Cornucopia.

     Scarlet ran as fast as she could away from them with Dawson at her side. She glanced back over her shoulder, seeing Crimson's familiar face as he emerged from the side of the Cornucopia, holding a short blade and a spear. Blood splattered across his face and his hands. She hadn't been the only Wolfe to kill in the bloodbath of the 67th Hunger Games.

     As she ran away, she watched as Crimson looked toward the Cornucopia, flames eating the insides, black smoke billowing out the front and the three dead bodies littered outside. When he turned back around, his eyes landed on hers. Fury clouded his face, promised death shined in his eyes.

     Crimson regripped the spear in his hand, raising it as the two other Careers joined him before throwing it.

     Her brother was accurate and deadly with a spear. Whatever he has shown the Careers, or the Gamemaker's in the Training Center was not the full extent of his abilities. His abilities were proven as his spear flew, straight and powerful, and carefully calculated to land exactly where she would be. Scarlet turned sharply, diving into the snow. She watched the spear land only feet in the snow where she would have been if she'd continued running straight.

     Scarlet scrambled to her feet, spinning around to face the three angry faces left in the Cornucopia. She didn't think about her actions as she returned Crimson's gesture with one of her own. The dagger flew and hit its target. Her brother fell to the ground, cursing as he clutched his leg. Blood pooled between his fingers.

     She blew him a kiss and turned away, not wasting any more time in getting the hell out of the open field. She grabbed Crimson's spear from the snow as she passed and started running. Dawson was twenty feet ahead, running from the woods. She looked back, confirming that they had not given chase and she was now out of range. She didn't think that they would give chase to her now, despite how furious they would be at her actions.

     With the two Careers killed during the bloodbath, and the District 4 tributes either in the wind or dead, what was supposed to be a pack of five was now a pack of three. As Scarlet caught up to Dawson, she felt a moment of gratefulness to have him at her side, watching out for any possible threats as she kept an eye on the threat behind them as they entered the thick underbrush of the barren woods.

     Twenty feet into the woods, they slowed. She glanced over at Dawson as he hooked his bow over his shoulder. As if the threats had ceased just because they were now in the woods. He continued further into the woods, but Scarlet stopped. Turning back toward the clearing, she crawled through the thick underbrush thirty feet to the right of where she'd entered with Dawson. The branches scraped her face, but she paid little mind to the stings as she got as close to the clearing as possible without being seen. Scarlet stayed low in the snow, eyes on the Cornucopia.

     As she suspected, the Careers and Crimson hadn't left the clearing. Mad as they were, they had bigger problems than hunting her. She grinned as she watched them trying to put out the fire with the snow. They would still likely be able to use the metal shelter, but most of those supplies were long gone and useless.

     Crimson stared in her direction, not quite where she was but where she had entered the woods. She couldn't make out his exact expression, but she imagined it was as murderous as the Careers' If his plan had been to eliminate Roe and Loach and join the Careers, her actions had severely weakened their alliance.

     Having two of the Careers dead in the bloodbath might have diminished their power, but she also may have inadvertently helped Crimson secure his place in their alliance. With only two Careers left, and in this environment, they'd rely more heavily on Crimson's knowledge for survival.

     They'd get enough sponsors to meet their needs, of course, but it would make Urban and Elixia much less willing to turn on him, and it would make it much easier for Crimson to plot the best opportunity to turn on them. Which he would, she had no doubt. Likely after he used them to kill all the other threats in the Arena.

      A weight settled next to her, brushing her knee. She looked over at Dawson, who had followed her into the underbrush.

     He watched her with a frown, his teeth chattering. "We need to find shelter," he said. She read his lips, noticing the rest of his body shaking just as much as his mouth. Dawson did need to find shelter, especially if she decided not to kill him. But she wouldn't be going with him.

     The boy was a good kid, only thirteen years old, barely older than her. It was probably why he'd stuck to her in the Training Center and why he helped her escape the Cornucopia—because he thought they should trust each other, because they were both so young.

     If she didn't kill him, maybe they could work togeth—

     "—Listen, Scarlet," he said, putting his hand on her wrist. "We don't have to kill anymore." His eyes implored her to agree with him, to validate his thoughts.

     But with those words, he both reaffirmed and destroyed her earlier thoughts. Dawson from District 12 was a good boy. She knew it from watching him in the training sessions and in his interview and from how he saved her in the Cornucopia. He was a good person.

     This was the Hunger Games. If he really thought they didn't have to kill, then he wasn't going to survive anyways. Allying with him would only get her killed along with him.

     Dawson, oblivious to her inner thoughts, continued on, "We can let everyone else kill each other. My tribute partner, Lilian, we can try to find her..." Scarlet stopped paying attention.

     I'm not here to make friends.

     She couldn't have allies, and this was why. She couldn't afford to get to know them and think about their welfare and their survival. She could only afford to think about her own survival.

     There could only be one Victor.

     She couldn't afford to be his ally. And she couldn't afford to let him leave here alive.

     Scarlet knew what she had to do. She was a Wolfe outside this Arena, and she would be a wolf inside it. And she knew just how to kill this little lamb.

     "Hey," she said, cutting off whatever he had been saying. Surprise flickered in his eyes at the sound of her voice, but he stayed quiet, waiting intently for her next words.

      Scarlet smiled sweetly at him. "Thank you for helping me, Dawson of District 12." She leaned over and pressed her lips to his cheek as she tightened her grip on the blade in her hand, driving it toward him in one hard thrust.

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Take care and stay safe! ~ CANGEL