Here's the district 4 reaping. Again, sorry for the long time between the updates. And I also appologise for this chapter in general: I don't really like how I worked this one out, but I didn't update for such a long time that I couldn't possibly do it over.

I also fully realize the last part is way shorter than the first. I also appologise for that.

And the last thing: I know I haven't been updating a lot. Like, really, a very long time. But next update definitely won't be next week, as I'm on a trip then.

Headgamemaker Iuno POV

Before we entirely leave Benjamin's room the guy talks again.

"Can… can I come with you, mister Iuno?"

Oh, no, not again! Please tell me this isn't real! My creations have turned against me! They should be grateful they get to participate in the lovely game, directed by me and following my orders. Not going in against the things I clearly expect from them!

"No, you can't." I say slowly, maybe they'll understand my situation better then.

"Then, why can she?"

"Well, now that you say so." I turn towards the girl again. "I am going to drop you at your room again, please stay there until your escort picks you up and brings you to your quarters."

She slightly hesitates, rubbing her chin while she looks at the boy. "And if I stay here?"

"Okay. You can stay here." It reliefs me she gave in so easily this time. But I understand why. She's smart enough not to get me mad, as that would mean a definite death.

I wasted this much time that I will have to, in order to prevent further delays, hide behind the glass and let other people talk in my place. Not like that would be a problem, of course. I have an iViewer. They can hear me if I would prefer it that way.

The door silently swings open, allowing me to pass through. Apart from the sound of my own footsteps, the corridor is dead silent. Shut down from all distracting noises originated from the streets outside and the less restricted areas of this building. They wanted this part to be entirely shut down from the rest, the windows only working to work from inside to outside, noises shut down and colors dulled. Mostly because they don't want to disturb the tributes.

But also to hold off the paparazzi. They have been a real pest lately, popping up in the most unexpected and inappropriate places, twisting your words all the time, bringing utterly secret information to the eager ears of the gossip-addicted Capitolians and all others who want to hear. One time a part of the arena map leaked out. A total disaster, I can assure you. Nearly half the gamemakers died. As did the Headgamemaker, Ares Finnigan, who was afterwards replaced by me. His family fled from the Capitol, supposedly out of shame, but people like me know it's because the danger of them getting killed as well was too big. Of course the person who really leaked the information, and made all those deceased Gamemakers get suspected, hasn't been found yet. No, they didn't. I never got exposed.

The new stairway brings me to the first tribute or district 4. The white door silently swings open. I make a sign at the assistant so she would lower the glass, and seat myself in one of the dark blue velvet chairs while waiting on the edge of my seat in anticipation. I'm curious about this one. She's more of a psycho than the one's I've seen so far.

Sage "Frecks" Sickle, District 4 female, 17 years old

The bloody corpse pushed under my nose is a horrific sight. Or so it must look to others. I don't notice. I don't care.

The small dagger in my hand keeps slipping out.

It's annoying

Or so I think. I don't notice. I don't care.

I slice the neck open further, digging deeper, letting the crimson liquid run out with such speed it spatters in my face. The knife slices his way all to the corpse's lungs. My hands dig deeply into the soft flesh, ripping out one of the lungs. I cut open her belly and remove her kidneys.

Again, horrific.

I notice. I don't care.

After the girl's body has been torn apart in the tycoon of my madness I relax a bit. I hope the girl's parents, family and friends are looking right now. Oh, how lovely would it be to see their faces. Hear their screams, cursing me and the Games. They know how it feels, losing somebody you hold so dearly you would want you could have replaced him. Yet they notice.

They notice that I have lost Caiden. They notice it! They NOTICE, but they DON'T FREAKING CARE!

All those selfish beings. They need punishment. They do. They need to know how it feels. I'll make them suffer. I'll make them cry the acrid tears of lost hope, shout out of bitter frustration, wish they had never been born. Let them be flooded by the wave of insanity, of madness.

My body doesn't seem to know how to obey my sick mind anymore.

It rocks back and forth, not wanting to do anything. I clutch my knees tightly, as if they will fall off if I don't.

Back and forth, back and forth.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, NO, NO, NNNOOOO!"

A high pitched scream hurts my ears. It takes a while before I realize I'm the one shouting.

"He's not dead, he's not dead." The voice mutters, as if it might bring him back. I want to believe it. I want to believe it so badly. I almost believe it. But there's that strange, black hole in my heart that gives me the empty feeling of the loss of the one I loved.

"He's not dead. He's not dead."

And suddenly, somebody appears in front of me.

A boy.

Black hair

Brown eyes.

Pretty skinny.

Pale.

But not Caiden.

I smile. He's not Caiden, but he could bring me to him.

Suddenly another face flashes in front of my eyes. My little brother Matt smiles at me.

"You can do it, sis. Please come back home. I miss you a lot."

New courage fills me. Confidentally I stand up and bann all gloomy thoughts from my mind. I raise my beloved diamond spear, that saved my life many times in this arena, above my head and charge towards the boy from 9.

Aiming carefully, I throw it at the boy, but he manages to dodge it, or so he thinks. This spear, however, can't be dodged. It's a heath-seeker. It charges at its nearest heathsource, and as we're on an open space I don't believe there are any animals it could be attracted to.

The boy, however, makes a catleap, landing straight on me, pinning me down on the ground. As he lifts his left hand, holding a sharp-looking knife, the spear digs deep into his left leg.

The moans of pain would be unbearable for anybody who hadn't been in this arena for two weeks, or watched it for that long of a time. He instinctively grasps to his legs, allowing me to easily twirl myself out of his grasp.

Furiously he pulls the blooded spear out of his leg and throws it at me. But while he does that I already pulled out two throwing knives from my belt and throw them rapidely at his chest. Not expecting me to have already attacked again, the first one hits him in the left shoulder, but the second one misses him narrowly. The diamond spear flies through the air and I easily dodge it.

Quickly I pull out two new blades, throwing one of them while dashing forwards. In the hurry of dodging it he can't hold me off, and before he fully realizes it I am sitting on his chest.

Though he has decided not to give up yet. With a move that's nearly too fast to be even visible his hand shoots forwards and twists my wrist. He catches the knife in mid-air and moves it towards my throat.

I jump backwards just in time, but if this fight doesn't end fast, and I can't bandage it up the fresh wound will soon be fatal. More blood poors out of the woond to strengthen my thoughts.

A dizzy feeling is already overtaking me.

I drop to the floor once more, and charge at his non-injured leg.

It is my last move, that can either save me, or break me.

Fate must really hate me.

The clouds in my head have grown so thick that I only manage to make a 'minor' cut.

Yet I smile.

Maybe madness has taken over my body again. I don't think this is an insane sort of happiness, though.

"I love you, Matt."

I say, almost unaudible due to the cut in my throat.

The boy charges at me once more, hereby piercing my neck with my own, prized spear.

I gently close my eyes, letting the darkness swallow me.

But as I already said, fate must really hate me.

A soft breeze brushes my cheek, and when I open my eyes I see a dark blue room with a Capitol woman dressed in white in front of me.

You've got to be kidding me.

Headgamemaker Iuno POV

When the black-haired girl opens her eyes it's like a bomb explodes. She starts kicking around furiously and grabs one of the peacekeepers, who just came in to maintain order again, with the throat and starts strangling him with all her might -which is a lot as she has only just been revived.

The peacekeeper's face turns bright purple, his piggy eyes moving around desperately, but there is nobody who can help the poor man out of Sage's tight grasp.

His eyes stop moving, his body doesn't struggle anymore, his clutched hands fall down his chest like weak puppet-arms.

But the girl doesn't seem to have had enough yet. She doesn't start attacking a next victim, but she snaps the man's neck, and after doing that she starts snapping every single bone in his body, while cuddling the man like a doll.

So crazy.

I love it.

Now that Frecks has something to play with she keeps quiet. Most of the peacekeepers leave, but two still stand guard inside the room, even though I don't think that would matter a lot.

I beam the assistent that she can do her explanation and leave to the next room.

I never even dare hoping for getting a tribute like her. She's completely lost it. She didn't use to be like that back then. Well, not before her precious boyfriend died anyway.

In the next room I find Levi Ashmore. A light-haired boy with green eyes and an ever-lasting smirk plastered on his face. He smiled his way to his death. How ironic.

I don't think there'll be any problems awakening him. After all, he didn't die a violent death. But then again, I have no time to waste. This guy died too long ago to understand this technology; he might be smart but not anything exceptional like some tributes we have already awaken or have yet to awaken. This guy is taken for his mentality, popularity and the fact that he's one of the best trained fighters we've ever seen. Not for having an exceptional brain like Haidee or Niva.

Not that he couldn't face them.

But he'll have to be careful.

I'm sure he won't be able to charm them.

Although he might think he will have them in their pocket. These girls are manipulating, lying thieves. Every. Single. One of them.

I lower myself in a seat and fixate my eyes on the tribute. Glass is down, danger gone, awakening process can begin.

Levi Ashmore, District 4 male, 18 years old

The boy doesn't make a chance. I honestly don't get how he managed to survive this long. Okay, I admit, my idea of fighting 'good' is on a level about twenty times better than theirs, but still. The way he holds his knife, how he throws it. So easily to dodge.

I grab the knife he just threw at my head with ease. There's not even a scratch on my hand.

With a big smirk plastered on my face I drop the knife, drawing my chains in the meanwhile.

The boy looks shocked.

Scared.

How could he have even thought of taking me on. I took the best trainers back in our district. And to make things clear, those trainers were very often victors. So obviously I'm not overconfident. I just am the best.

I stroke the weapon with big delicacy, before twirling it above my head with great speed and wrapping it around my poor fellow Career.

I pull the chain witch such great force he falls on the ground, moaning in pain.

"Oh please stop whining. You're only rediculing yourself."

He stares up at me, eyes filled with hope. He thinks I might not kill him. We were friends, he thinks. My words make him think I'm going to plot with him, to kill the girls.

"At least die with dignity."

I smile wickedly. The hope in his eyes has disapeared now, replaced with fear. The fear of knowing death is knocking on your door.

I grab his own knife and fling it at his head, between his eyes.

A huge gap in his forehead now marrs his teary face. Blood runs out rapidely, but he was dead already, from the very moment the knife had torn through his skull.

You would expect a Career from 2 to be a little bit better than that. To have at least put up a good fight. But he was just chanceless against me.

I quickly raid his nearly-empty pockets and turn around, back to our camp. At this very moment there are only 3 people left. Me, Clarissa from 2, and Ismene from 12. The good thing is, those two are both my allies and madly in love with me. So they'll probably fight each other to have me, and then I'll kill the other while we kiss.

A cozy campfire is burning lazily in the middle of the field. I go sit next to it on a trunk and warm a bowl of soup above it.

"Clarissa! Ismene! Where are you guys?!"

Clarissa comes out of her tent and happily runs towards me. We kiss for a few moments, something that doesn't touch me at all -I'll have to kill her, after all.

"I heard the canon. Already expected you would come back soon."

Not even a moment she had doubted my victory over her district partner.

"Well, it was easy."

"Of course it was. Have you ever seen him in training? He's a weakling. Well, he was better than all other boys, but I could beat him and I'm positive you're better than I am."

Her eyes stare abscentmindedly at something behind me.

"You're right. I'm sure you could beat him. And about that second thing, I don't think that's true. You can beat me." I smile. Giving her a good feeling about herself won't hurt. Not like she could ever beat me. I am and I'll always be better.

I hear a soft rustle behind me. Probably the wind.

"You're right." She mutters.

"What?" I ask, confused.

She smirks. "I can beat you."

I feel a sharp, stinging pain in my heart. When I look at my chest I see a long point of a dagger stick out. Blood runs out of my mouth. My limbs go numb. I stare at Clarissa, now joined by Ismene, in disbelief. I thought they were madly in love with me.

My vision goes black. And then blue. I stare confused at the room I'm positioned in. A man in white clothes approaches me.

What for Panem's sake is going on here?