Dark Side.

There's a place that I know, it's not pretty there and few have ever gone.

Serena Pierce, District Ten Female.
One Hundred and Fifth Victor.

Returning home feels surreal. I could be dead for all I know, and this is some twisted version of what death could hold. I have to pinch myself a few times to remind myself that everything was real and that the emotions are still there. Each day, I fear that the emotions will return like they did after killing Minerva. I'd rather be numb. It was easier to cope with.

I briefly remember them saving me from the arena. The electrical ladder dropped but I couldn't stop being sick. Minerva and Percival were only a few feet from me, dead and turning cold, whilst I was crying my eyes out. I wanted to die. I decided then that the emotions were too much to live by. Death would have been more welcoming and safe. I doubt I'll ever be the same and Sunny confirmed that. She told me that no-one is ever the same, but that they have to move on. I ascended on the ladder and the animals just watched me, left in their habitat to roam and destroy, millions of darkened eyes watching me leave the place that broke something inside of me.

I rest my head against the cool glass of the train and strain my eyes on the blurry trees.

I haven't seen my family in weeks. Well, at least, I feel like it's been that. Sunny said it was just over eight days. Eight days I was trapped in there, surrounded by death. It felt longer. It felt tighter and more suffocating but no, it was only eight days. Time just drags in a place without night.

"Have you taken your pills today?" Sunny's voice comes. I look up, the light piercing my brain. I shake my head and returning my throbbing skull to the coldness. "You need to keep taking them, otherwise the side effects of the injection will return. Capitol attendants told you that, Serena. Don't be reckless now."

"I want the side effects of the injection to return." I reply quietly.

"Why would you want that?" Sunny growls. "They made you a monster. They changed your view and everything about you and you want to embrace it?"

I snap my head at her and my mind spins. It takes a moment before my eyes stop throbbing. "Feeling all of this is worse than the numbness. At least with the numbness, I could cope. I can't cope now," I pause, sucking in a breath through my teeth. "I don't think I'll ever cope."

"You survived over others. Don't be selfish and make their deaths in vain. Treat life good because you were lucky enough to keep yours compared to the others."

"You don't think I know that?" I have to steady myself to stop my mind from reeling again. I slap my hands on the table to focus in on Sunny's taut face. "You don't think I see their faces every day? I killed five people, Sunny. Five. Not just one or two, not out of defense, five people I willingly killed for this. It isn't worth it."

Sunny scowls but her eyes are more sympathetic. Lylac was much better to me and Ezra. But, Lylac returned early, taking Ezra's coffin with her. I'm left with the one person who seems to criticise my lifestyle and what I want to do.

Sunny stands up abruptly and storms out of the cabin, her dark hair swishing behind her. I don't care. I don't want to care. I'd rather be numb than face the world for what it is.

Missing out on my medicine does exactly that.

We're pulling into District Ten. I know because they're nothing but trees and farmland, and the smell has become more clean and fresh. I look out of the window longingly, knowing that I'm returning to the home that ridiculed me and the family that shunned me briefly. But, it's home, and my heart thumps hard at seeing my sister and my brother for the first time. Landon will no doubt judge me for my actions. I can only hope Amelia is much more welcoming, despite any reservations.

Sunny stands up again. Her movements make my head hurt. The trees disappear, to be replaced by the flashing bombardment of cameras. I wince and recoil from the window as quickly as possible.

"Hope you're ready to be a star," Sunny comments bitterly. "Those flies won't ever leave you alone now. Another reason to marvel in victory."

I swallow the lump in my throat and stand up. My palms are sweating and I have to constantly wipe them along my faded yellow dress. I'm not ready for this but I don't have a choice. I pull my arms around my chest as the doors slide open and Sunny steps forward. Instinctively, I follow, knowing that being behind Sunny is probably my best bet to get through this in one piece.

The cameras cause my eyes to explode in pain and agony, but I force my head down and keep moving. I hear screams and cheers from the poverty-ridden citizens who get to live a little bit easier now that I've won them rations for a year. Sunny's hand is suddenly on my shoulder and guiding me towards a car. Something inside of me stirs and I force my head up to look out at the crowd, hoping to see any of my family.

I don't see anyone.

I fiddle with my dress as I stand at the door. This is beyond stupid. I shouldn't be doing this because they won't want to see the monster of a daughter they produced. They watched every minute, every move, and now they know the real me. The Serena Pierce that kills and doesn't feel. Still, I manage to bring a fist up to the door and knock twice, something that's become usual in my family. Without siblings at home, we soon developed a keen way of telling each other who was at the door.

It takes a while and my heart falls in defeat at how my own family won't want to see me, but then the door swings open and Amelia is there, eyes wide and face as caring and comforting as possible.

I open my mouth to say something, but she quickly wraps her arms around me and pulls me in and I just break down. I sob and cry and shake and Amelia, being the bigger sister, holds me like a comfort blanket and a stable wall all at once, helping me from falling apart.

"Shush shush, it's okay, it's okay," she whispers into my ear. "You're safe Serena. You did and I always knew you could. Shush, it's over now, it's all over."

I pull back and continue to sniff. I feel so broken and lonely. Even Amelia's hugs - whilst helpful - only remind me of the emotions that I do not want to feel. Sunny forced a tablet down my throat, but I'll only ever take them when she's around. Sooner or later, she'll release that I'm a lost cause and that having no emotions is what I want.

Amelia takes me by the hand and leads me through her small, ratty house. I end up in the living room, where my nephew, Callum, sits on the floor, playing with a few wooden blocks. Seeing his bright hair and eyes send a wave of guilt through my veins, making me shiver. His auntie is a murderer. He'll grow up knowing that.

"He's been missing you," Amelia says, encouraging me into the room. Numb, I cross the floor and sit down opposite Callum, a part of me yearning that seeing his face and playing with him will help me regain some of my life and humanity. Someone so innocent can help someone so evil. "I think he knew you weren't around, because when I went to see Mom and Dad, he kept crawling towards your bedroom door, as if you were oversleeping or something," I nod slowly. Callum looks up and his tiny lips break out into a goofy, toothless smile. "See, he remembers you."

It gives me minor hope. Hope that innocence is bliss and that he'll never come to understand what I had to do.

I refuse to see Landon when Amelia asks. She says it quietly and calm - away from Callum's alert ears - as we sit at the table.

"He's your brother," she argues in that clear voice that has always made things harder to handle. She says it nice when really, I'd rather her shouting or screaming. "You can't ignore him forever, you know."

"A brother who looks down on me for my choices."

"That's always been Landon, you know that. He is an ass and nothing is going to change that, and likewise for the fact that he's your brother," she leans across the kitchen table, attempting to link our fingers together. I instantly flinch though. "Don't be like that. What would Mom and Dad say?"

I snap my head up, feeling the tears. "Don't play that card, Amelia."

She doesn't argue after that. Everything was a touchy subject before I left, and it's even more raw now. It was over a year ago but feels like yesterday. My parents might have given up the idea that their daughter resorted to prostitution when she hated herself - believed their child could do good - but I can't see them now. I broke their hearts once and I can't bare to do it again. First a prostitute and now a murderer.

"I'll come with you to see him? Lord knows he looks down on me and Callum just the same as he does everyone else." she offers but I shake my head, lips pressed tight and eyes drumming against their sockets. I don't want nor need these pills. It isn't worth it.

I refuse to see him. I refuse to see my parents. I'm only here because... I needed someone, and Amelia is the only person who doesn't look and judge at the same time. She's easier to read and handle. And, right now, I need easy, not comfort.

I attend Ezra's funeral out of compassion. I feel out of place, stood on the edge of a small family that weep for a child that died. Every now and then, someone gives me a look and it cuts through my soul. I'm probably a mocking reminder that their child died and I survived. I'm in his garden, and for some reason, it feels like I'm trespassing on something sacred and private.

District Ten might've gained another Victor, but this family still lost their child.

After the ceremony - quaint and cheap, proving the family's status on being on the bread line - I approach the woman who sobs the loudest. She cries and cries, a damp tissue constantly pressed against eyes that will never stop running for as long as she lives. Guilt twists inside of me and for a moment, I feel like dipping my hand into my pocket and throwing the tablets away. Not out of spite against Sunny or anything, but because all of this is proving my point in that emotions are going to break me very soon.

"Are you Ezra's mother?" I ask quietly, my voice timid and soft.

She snaps her head around and her eyes widen. I knew I shouldn't have come. I'm the mocking reminder, aren't I? "Yes. I know who you are, too. D-Did my boy, d-did he do okay?"

The question puzzles me. I don't even know what she means. The guilt suffocates my insides but I force myself to nod. "Y-Yes."

She lets out a relieved sob. "I-I was so-o worried for him."

"I want t-to help you out," I swallow thickly, the urge to rip my throat open just to be able to breathe properly. "Let me honor Ezra. I-I can give you some money every other month, to live on, a-and let me pay for a plaque or a h-headstone. Anything you want. Please, j-just let me do something."

It's obvious I feel guilty. I didn't kill Ezra - I didn't talk to him much either - but it's going to be hard living here knowing he's died. He wasn't an ally nor a friend, but he was my district partner. That bond is more deep and raw than anyone could know.

His mother only nods before bursting into tears again. I stand there awkwardly, forcing my own tears and sickness down to the dark depths of my body, hoping that the harder I push, the harder it'll be for them to resurface. Then, she does something unexpected and throws herself at me, wrapping arms around my slimmer frame and holding me, crying and crying and I shakily hold her back, mind reeling and stomach twisting but something feeling so normal about this.

Much like Callum, helping someone innocent seems to quell the fire within my body.

I could turn this around. I could become better.

I can't help but flatten out my dress over and over again. Something doesn't feel right about it; as if the expensive fabric should not be on someone so tainted. It's a stupid thing to think about, but yet, I feel the need to completely ruining it all in order to make sense of everything.

"Stop it," Sunny almost growls. "You'll ruin the dress and then we'll have to start over."

"Good." I snarl back, finding my fire.

I no longer have to listen to Sunny. She can tell me to do whatever she wants, but at the end of the day, I'm my own person and I make my own decisions. At first, I didn't understand it - I believed that Sunny could be the only one that would help save me when I didn't want to be saved - but now, now I realise that I'm as important as Sunny and whilst the prospects make my stomach churn violently, I know that if I don't want to take those tablets, I don't have to. Medication will bring back the worse emotions in me. Callum and Ezra's mother were lights in a dark place, but that dark place is the only thing that's keeping me together. I need it, at least for a few more months. Maybe just until the interviews and Victory Tour is over.

"Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, please welcome the Victor of the One Hundred and Fifth Games, all the way from District Ten - Serena Pierce!"

"Don't mess it up." Sunny shouts over the loud speakers as I walk on.

For some reason, I know where to go and what to do. I've never done this before - my own personal interview before launch was a complete disaster - yet, it comes natural. It worries me, if anything. Will I be used to the lights and the cameras? The attention? I've always had attention for the wrong reasons, and now, it's only going to increase. In the Capitol, I'm adored. In District Ten, I'm probably still classed as an abomination. I don't want people to continue to remember me.

As my eyes readjust to the light, I notice Hermes, grinning lecherous.

I quickly take the seat and hold down my dress. I'm prepared for whatever he is about to throw at me without a doubt. Right now, I'm glad I still haven't taken the medication; Hermes' words shouldn't stir any unwanted emotions from me.

"Serena, Serena, Serena," he begins. "What are we going to do with you, aye? Such a natural murderer."

For some reason, the word rolls straight off of me like water on a leaf. "I suppose nothing."

"You suppose?"

"Yes, I suppose," I repeat. "What can you do with me? Nothing. I played the game to the best of my ability," I make sure to empathise that last part. It's a game, in their eyes, and I need to keep it that way. For the sake of Lylac and Sunny, I don't want to cause trouble. "I can only continue to live. So, I suppose nothing."

"Quite the spitfire. I don't remember your interview being anything like this?" he leans forward, hands clasped together. Someone in the audience practically squeals and he smiles humourously. "Has the arena really changed your personality, or was this something that you wanted to hide from us all?" I digest the words carefully. Is this a trick question? I bite on my bottom lip gently, thinking of what to say. When he's met with silence, Hermes just leans back. "Ah, even you don't know that answer and you claim to be a Victor."

I shrug and he sighs. "I don't really know," I tread carefully. "The injection is still inside of me. Taking longer to wear off than they imagined."

"According to sources, that injection was to target the weaker minds, the ones more suspectable to losing themselves, those who weren't as strong to begin with," his words cut me and I panic internally. Why am I feeling this? Why isn't the injection overpowering me? I search the dark corners of my mind, trying to hide that hunger and desire that drove me to kill, but it's not there. "If it still hasn't worn off, then you are more weaker than most and yet, you're here. Clearly our Gamemakers done something extraordinary."

The words hit me again and I have to steady my vision in order to focus. "Haven't we got recaps to look through?"

He smiles cunningly. "Yes, we do. I suppose we could just hurry it up and get through with it, seeing as you won't be shedding any photographic tears."

The lights dim quickly and I take a deep breath. I can do this, with or without the darkness. It won't help me because I need to do it myself. Five deaths at my hands. Two allies and three enemies. A voice resounds from nowhere, declaring: "Twenty-four went in, and only one came out."

A white screen behind us explodes to life and I turn to face it, knowing that I'm expected to. I hold my breath as the white vanishes to be replaced with a cluster of colours that make my head hurt. Then, slowly, it fades into a dark scene, with grey skies and hollowed children. It must be District Three. A small boy - the male - walks towards the front with a hollow look in his eye. I never took much notice of him; he was young, weak, written off as a bloodbath from the moment he was called. Except, he wasn't, because he's here. Words the colour of blood appear on the screen, labelling him 'Fifth Place'.

I twist my mouth as it shifts to the next picture. This time, I know the victim as the boy from District Six. He's hulking compared to his other teenagers, and when he walks to the stage, a woman holding two children is crying on the outskirts. My heart freezes. Were they his children? I gulp, guilt coursing through my veins. He was a child and a parent. He had more to live for than others. 'Fourth Place'.

The screen moves, and now, I can see the sea, rolling against the shore. I've never seen that much water before. Percival is as cocky as ever as he takes to the stage, even announcing something into the microphone directed at his district partner. A monster, scaring the children before standing proud. His is the only death I don't feel guilty for. 'Third Place', written in blood, feels suitable for him.

District Two comes along next and Minerva makes her way to the stage, and from the looks of it, she looks less than impressed. It's a complete contrast to the girl who bravely fought against Percival and even asked for a last minute alliance. 'Second Place'. Her death I don't feel good about, despite being the quickest and easiest. My gut clenches, leaving me more confused than ever.

And, then, it goes to District Ten, a place I still long to be, even after returning. It doesn't feel the same. It's as if victory has left me with a different perspective on life, and that includes the place I grew up in. The escort calls me to the stage, and as I walk, I remember those emotions. Inside, I was screaming. I should've cried. I wanted to cry, and yet, I somehow managed to hold everything together despite all of the piercing glares. Ezra makes his way next, but as he mounts the stage, they quickly collapse the picture.

It fades into darkness and I let out a sigh of relief. The chariots appear next. Each tribute chariot gets a few seconds, showcasing the creations that were glorified that night. I don't remember my costume much. But, when I see it, cowboys, I remember the brief conversation where Sunny called Ezra a prat, and I felt guilty for the way that she has to treat him like competition, because she has to worry about me and only me. It's her job; she didn't do it too well. Our chariot gets longer, a lot longer, and I feel a sudden burst of anger when Katey's chariot gets about a second - being last in order - before switching screens once more. I lace my fingers through my dress as it changes again. Interviews. Everyone gets a line or two that sums them up. India talks proudly of her family and home, bright and bubbly although she plays into Hermes' tricks. Katey mentions little, keeping to herself and constantly running her fingers through her hair. The District Eleven girl is strong and defiant. Percival is both cocky and charming, and an echo of cheers ring out for their favourite player. Minerva focuses on her allies rather than her life, ensuring to take shots at the District One female. They stagger down on mine. I gulp, watching the way I hold myself. I look weak. They must have written me off from the moment it all began. I don't talk much - I've never liked to share my home life with anyone - but Hermes drags out a detail about Rhona and I watch as my face falls.

Everything has been made worser, commercialised for entertainment.

After that, the screen dies, constantly leaving the audience yearning for more.

"They fought to the death. They fought for the righted place as Victor."

I gulp again and the screen comes to life. The bright light pierces my eyes and illuminates the audience. I glance out curiously, and seeing a sign that has my name, my heart feels heavy. I turn back as the bright sky and swaying yellow grass reveals the bloodbath. The camera pans out, showing everyone that the small bloodbath pit was, indeed, just a minute part of the wilderness. We're all stood around the circle, waiting for our fates to play out. Did anyone believe they were going to die? I did.

The gong sounds and chaos envelopes.

I can't help but focus in on myself, running ahead. I watch myself target the District Eleven girl, fighting her off so I can collect a backpack. It was as if the world was telling me something. That fight now, that was the start of something later. The first death happens, and the camera shows Quinlan targeting Challis Glenley, sending a speedy knife into her chest. Her name starts the grid off: '24th Place'.

They show Fay crawling through the grass, right near the fake-Career. Stellan Kingsley stumbles into his path, meeting his sai and effectively dying. So far, not so bad. Neither death really hits me hard; that's the better thing.

The camera shifts. The female Career from District Four is sending wild arrows at everyone who nears her. Percival, however, is lazily watching nearby. This was before or after the fight? I don't remember, but I'm almost sure that the cameras will keep on me, sadly. Percival leaps, and his district partner is ready to fight. They fight and tussle - the crowd gasping, sitting on the edge of their seats - before Percival wraps the scarf around her neck, chokes her, before slamming her skull repeatedly against the golden skin. With each slam, I wince, breaking down the barrier I'm carefully placing up. Odette Leith, dead, murdered by her own ally.

After her is the worse, I can already imagine. The District Nine girl is on the floor, weak, surrounded by the monsters. Minerva is the one that leaps into action and seals her fate, and technically, the bloodbath should be over. I wait with baited breath as the camera shifts. My facade, once strong, is broken when I see Ezra and his alliance carefully walking down his slope. My heart hiccups. He's next.
A wolf, large and fierce, steps from the bushes. I bite down on my tongue when the wolf reveals his own, blue and forked, that shoots straight through Ezra's body. A small shriek escapes my throat. It's really hot in here, isn't it? Keep awake, Serena, keep with it. Let the darkness consume you.

The cannons sound. The bloodbath is over. Challis Glenley, Stellan Kingsley, Odette Leith, Fay Amaris and Ezra Zinnia, all dead.

The scene shifts. I faintly see Hermes' bright smile in the shadows, but focus back on Ezra's two allies. What are they doing? The wolf comes into the view, stalking forward. Then, he leaps. Someone in the audience gasps, followed by another, as the District Seven boy defends his red-headed ally. A fatal slash across his stomach sends him falling after murdering the beast.

He's okay.

But he's not.

His partner is making something. I lean forward, the curious part of my brain wondering what's going on. I feel sick to my stomach; it's like I'm being the murderer by watching so intently. She creates something, grinds it up and forces her partner to drink it. As his eyes close, she fumbles with her boot and produces a knife.

His cannon sounds. Ewan Cole. It's not over, though, and acid scorches my throat when his ally takes the blade to him like some experiment.

The scene moves again. The quick changes makes my head hurt, but when I see the pristine sky and bountiful of acacia trees, I know that they're showing my progress. Me and Katey are sitting around, talking, nothing important but it shows the bond we were carefully crafting with my trust issues and Katey's hidden problems. I sadly smile; she was a good ally at the end of the day. The screen splits into quadruples now and my eyes shift from my screen to the next - revealing the District Eleven girl partnering up with the District Six boy - as well as the little kids from District Three following a herd of hulking animals towards water.

The last screen, however, makes me sick to my stomach once more. Katey's district partner, Colton, fighting off a snake to protect India. As he close as he succeeds, he falls unconscious. The camera pans out, revealing the Careers moving in from the horizon. When they notice them, wounded, they run with glee in their steps. Monsters, the lot of them. I dig my nails into my hand to remind me that I survived, that I won, that I beat them all and that I should be happy to have my life back at the very least... but it feels like I don't deserve it. They taunt India. Colton's unconscious. India bites back against Minerva and her district partner - one who I thought was better - takes Colton's life. India is crying. My heart is pulsating and I feel the tears heavily on my eyelids. A kick to India's head sends her unconscious and the mystery behind her drooping face is revealed.

I let out a shaky breath and Hermes' teeth zoom from the shadows. "Everything alright there, Victor?" he says, sickly sweet, empathizing the word Victor.

"P-Perfect." I struggle out.

He fades again. The screen shifts. Large, pink birds attack District Eleven and District Six. They fight them away valiantly but the boy, he's seriously injured, a hole shot through the leg. He falls. He's wounded. I don't even know his name properly. The girl stands out and reveals a sad smile. Then, sullen and quiet, she walks away.

My heart freezes when I notice me and Katey not far from said watering hole. The girl notices and her face flashes into concentration. She waits, stalking, ready, before leaping out into me and Katey. I strain my eyes to watch when I want nothing more than to curl up into myself and cry. Crying is a weakness. It's a luxury that I don't deserve because when I have my life over others, why should I cry?

My sword finds her stomach. I did it for Katey. I killed her to save her, I remind myself, even though the thought makes my head thump. Lena Romero, 17th Place.

Lena. I'll remember you, Lena. The first kill and the first trip down a slippery slope of losing my humanity.

Percival is next. He's stalking someone from the bushes, but I can't quite tell. The camera moves and I hurriedly blink away more tears on my eyelashes - no more crying, Serena - as it's revealed to be Quinlan. He's hunting him for sport. Quinlan runs into Bracken, though, and is snared into a trap. Bracken would've let him down. He was rebellious and self-righteous, but he's not cruel. Instead, he walks away, and everything begins to blur as I realise the change in people.

Percival is out of the bushes. I hold my breath, expecting a decapitation, or maybe a slit throat to drain blood like we do for the cows in our district. Instead, he cuts the rope and allows Quinlan to gather a weapon before they parry. He's a sword-fighter at heart, Percival, and I already know Quinlan will die. It doesn't make the action any easier though and with a stab of his rapier, Quinlan joins the ever-growing pile of corpses.

I need a break. My legs are weak but I try to stand. Sunny's word drum in my ears, though, reminding me to play the part to wrap it up. I take a seat begrudgingly. I can't take this - I don't want to take this.

Who's next? I don't remember. Quinlan's death wasn't a shock, but it confused me. Outer districts were dropping like flies and me, Katey and Bracken were all that were left.

The scene reveals the watering hole and the two little District Three kids. Oh. My heart sinks; I can only see my small nephew in their place, innocent and young and unaware of the real danger. Wait a minute. The District Seven girl, the only other little girl, is with her. My heart plummets at that. They came together, banded together, not realising they were lambs to the slaughter in packs. The boy moves and leaves the two girls.

The water thrashes. Another squeal escapes my throat as a scaly monster sinks teeth into the District Three girl's ankle and starts to drag her back towards her watery grave. Screams erupt and damage my ears. I quickly clamp my hands over it and squeeze my eyes shut. Not children, I can't see them die. The screams break through hands and I tense, aching, a lump forming in my throat and attempts to suffocate me.

They cut off abruptly. I peel my eyes open, seeing the water run red and two innocent faces splattered in blood.

When I notice Minerva and the Careers once more, my heart tightens. Something inside of me clicks and, for some reason, I want to smile. I remember this. Three deaths, one after the other.

It's the outer Career that makes the first move. The storm has rolled in properly now, dark clouds shadowing the ground and suffocating the yellow grass. He leaps and attacks and things become hasty. The once glee I found in seeing this makes me feel guilty, and I shield my eyes away. I hear the screams and the fighting calls. The crowd is jittery, I can hear them, moving about and whispering between them. One cannon sounds followed by another almost instantly. One more, I think positively, berating myself for being emotionless. Oh. Wait. I wanted this, didn't I.

The last cannon sounds. I pull away, checking the grid at the bottom. Underneath Nova Watts is Ransom Denvir, and I instantly remember him as the soft boy from District Two. Anubis Cotton, the outer Career. Lastly is Fawn Asprey. I take a deep breath; I know what's about to happen and I'm not prepared for this either.

Me and Katey find India. I swallow thickly and claw at my tiny dress, begging for some sort of numbness. Taking the pills was suppose to heal me and I didn't take any! I shouldn't be feeling like this!

I have to watch though. Something inside of me yearns to know how I looked to the world, to Amelia and Landon and Callum and my parents.

The girl moves forward to India, sword poised. The camera catches a glimpse of their eyes. A cry escapes my lips. The girl - me - with eyes that detect no emotion as she takes another life willingly. I was a monster, like everyone said. I was no better than the Careers. My heart sinks when I realise that I've handed everyone more fuel when I was hoping to redeem myself.

The rain hammers down and I gasp, wanting to remember the rain on my heated skin. Katey is so fragile, and I liked that about her. She was humane and insecure and worried, much like me. She was real and I needed that. Then, Percival came along and ruined it. They show individual shots on the valiant fight that me and Katey put up, before he plunges the rapier into Katey's chest. My sword slices down and takes away one eye, leaving him wounded and bloodied. It pauses and the screen zooms in on me, flashes of emotion tracing myself before the darkness takes over. I can see it in my eyes; my pupils are wide and fearful, then they become hard and cruel. My sword finds Katey's chest and I twist, knuckles on fire and heart in pain, masked by the shadows that emerged from my brain.

I don't expect the springing of tears when I rewatch Katey's last breath escape her wrecked body. The pain, the emotions, it's all unexpected and sends my head reeling. Numbness, how I miss you. My heart aches as it moves onto the next victim, the District Six girl who likes to experiment. The camera catches her body within the dried, yellow grass, a knife carefully carving through an animal's fur. She must've killed it.

Her district partner is nearby, and you can hear the supressed giggle in her throat. He moves forward and her head turns. For a moment, her eyes are terrified because she's been caught... and then they snap dark. It catches me off-guard. A monster, just like me. She leaps forward, teeth bared, before he slams the mace into her flaming red mane.

The screen cuts as the boy looks distraught at killing his own partner.

Bracken.

My heart sinks as we watch his carve something into an acacia tree. I lace my fingers together and clench, a familiar sickness sinking in my chest. Me and him, we were the last ones. Who killed him? He probably went down in a fight, Bracken was moderately strong and cocky. But then, he starts stripping and someone in the audience whistles loudly - I feel the heat rise in my cheek, and I don't even know why. Probably because Bracken is now near naked - before he wades in the water. Carefully and precise, he pulls the blade to his wrist and I can't look, I just can't. I clench my teeth and fight the acid to stay in my stomach, but I know he's killing himself; the Games forced a hard-headed player to take his own life.

His cannon sounds. I choke back my cry, surprised that Bracken's death affected me so much. They made him commit suicide. Their pressure and unknown actually made someone so strong become so weak.

One by one, everyone is being ticked off the list. A sick game where the corpse count rises, all for my victory that makes me "great".

The little girl from District Seven appears with her new ally. The sight makes me smile; I let him go at the bloodbath, and if I didn't, he wouldn't be here. I done a good deed to counteract all the killing that I managed. A small action to cleanse my conscience. Then, it all crumbles; a black panther moves out. Everything feels in slow-motion as the little boy - the one I spared - throws a small electronic device that explodes. Black smoke filters through the air, blood and body parts showering down on the two small children. Small children, drenched in blood and surrounded by limbs... the sight makes me want to gag and even someone in the audience retches.

Her body stirs and through the parted blackness, she rises slowly. She's alive! Then how does she die? The screen fast-forwards, and my eyebrows knit. They're in a bush when another animal leaps and catches her in his teeth. I hold back the shriek in my throat as she's dragged towards her doom. But, then, rather than die at the hands of the beast, her ally throws another explosive at her. A boom resounds in the air, followed by her cannon. The screen moves fast now, revealing Percival standing opposite the boy from District One. The stand-off seems tense and I just know that this must've been a highlight to the monstrous Capitol.

The fight begins, but I can barely watch. I hear the howling and fighting chants, metal cutting air and the thud of someone hitting the other. I shield my eyes away when District One snaps Percival's finger, but he doesn't even flinch, making the action more unnerving than it would've been.

With eyes closed, I hear the cannon and know that District One is dead. I don't want to know how or why. He was a Career, but seemed nicer; Percival should've died ages ago, but like a robot, he kept coming back around, unaffected by the disaster and bloodshed he's witnessed thus far.

Final five. I look down at the grid, and underneath Kit Felix, four spaces are waiting to be filled. I know the order but I don't know why. I don't even know if I want to know why, all I can think about is the numbness that's taken far too long to smother me and make this easy.

It's tormenting and I feel weak and dependant on something that destroyed my humanity.

The little boy does next as the feast is announced. I watched his face dance in the sky the moment me, Minerva and Percival faced-off. He's at the top of the rocks when Minerva's shadow creeps out from the Cornucopia. I close my eyes but the distinct bang of the another explosive is enough for me to open my eyes. He's crawling along the rocks as Minerva pierces his chest with her scythe.

District Six is next. I feel terrible, like I should honor their deaths, but I just want this over with. I want to go back to the district that hates me, just so I can get away from the horrors. If the numbness won't take me, I'll have to find another solution. I'm sure Rhona could hook me up with something. His death, however, is the most gruesome but ironic. A mother lion - probably the one of the cub he crushed at the beginning - maims him until he's nothing more than a bloody pulp.

"Final Three!" Hermes sing-songs from the darkness.

He can only be cheery because he hasn't experienced it. The adrenaline takes over, and at this point, you've got it in your head that you could win... until you meet your opponents and finds out that both are trained Careers, practiced to kill, and then you realise that you're probably as good as dead. The Capitol aren't cheering for you; they're cheering for your blood because you aren't a favourite.

I appear on screen again. Me, Percival and Minerva all edge closer when the table rises and chaos ensues. I don't remember anything and really, I try not to look. I know we fight - I know Minvera's item is the needle - but everything else is a blur and I'm thankful for that. I won't have to remember my desperate and valiant attempt at keeping together and trying to win. When I look through my sweaty fingers, I watch me kill Percival with ease; the only death I partially enjoyed and don't regret.

Then, me and Minerva face-off. The fight feels like hours, but I gain the upper hand and Minerva falls and the needle is just there and her eyes are asking, begging, and I do it without a second thought because I can live, I can return, and I now I'm here and I don't want to be.

My victory is announced.

But I don't feel like a winner.

"Well, well, well, it's been a long time," Rhona drawls, perched up against the brick wall, masked by shadows. "I didn't think you'd survive."

"I didn't think I would either," I admit truthfully. "But I wanted to come home and patch things up. Make amends, you know."

She moves from her place, the light revealing her blackened hair. "And collect some drugs, obviously," she smirks, the power surge probably making her feel important. "You got the cash?"

As Rhona moves forward, I dip my hand into my pocket to collect the payment. She seems content and fishes out the drugs with ease; four small, white pills that'll fix me right up. She moves closer, and within reach, I pull forth the cattle prod. Rhona is oblivious as I crack the weapon across her forehead. She screams, flying to the floor and I tower over her. My little pills scatter on the wet gravel, but I can count each of them.

"Y-You... y-you bitch!" she howls.

"Correction," I state clearly, clicking the button and allowing the electricity flow through the weapon. "I'm a monster. The same monster that you declared I was as you ripped my life away from me."

Her head is bleeding and her pupils are smaller. Doubt and guilt creeps into my mind, but I hold strong. "You won't get away with this," she hisses. "I'll ruin your life. I'll turn everyone against you again, the Capitol will have to murder you and everyone who shares your filthy blood."

"That's where you're wrong. I've been to hell and back, and I've had enough of you thinking you have control over me. I'll gain my life back and you'll have nothing."

"You just asked for pills from me, I doubt you have that much control," she seethes, glancing at the tablets. "Get off your high horse and remember you were nothing before me and still are."

I move the cattle prod closer, electricity eagerly snapping towards her raw skin. "Leave me alone from now on, otherwise I'll have no choice. I've killed. I'm a murderer, a monster, and you'd be an idiot to think you have control over me anymore."

With that, I turn around and walk away, feeling a sense of accomplishment and the first step to taking my life back. I hear Rhona shuffle before she runs toward. As quick as a flash, I spin around and jab the electrical staff into her stomach. She howls, face contorting from pain as she recoils quickly.

I look down at her squirming form, so weak and powerless like I used to feel under her thumb. "As I said, leave me alone. If you don't, I'll be sure to take you to hell where you belong." I threaten.

I can rebuild myself. Rebuild everything I used to have. I walk away, tucking the cattle prod back into the deep pocket of my jacket. The arena, Katey, India, Percival, Minerva, Lena, Bracken and the rest have all taught me something: to appreciate my life and not let someone try and take control.

Because I've been to hell and back, and it's made me stronger.

Dark Side by Kelly Clarkson.

The blog for this story is wild one hunger games . blogspot - all deaths are notified here.

The obituaries have been posted named 'Remember, Remember'. Learn about all the tributes and what happened to their bodies. You'll notice that Serena doesn't have one, but that's because her future is unknown. Of course, we know she's a mentor in Lost!

Now that's done, you have some more questions I'd love for you to answer:

-Thoughts on the obituaries?

-Did you enjoy Wild One overall?

-Thoughts on the writing, plots, characters in general, arena in general, basically anything?

-Thoughts on the blog titles?

That is finally the end to Wild One. Me and this story, we've had a troubled relationship where I've gone through moments of wanting to scrap the entire thing. The characters were great but my plots were weak. I got carried away, and almost lost where I was heading.

Each of these characters were brilliant and unforgettable.

I want to thank all of the submitters for their wonderful creations, the reviewers for being a good support despite my struggle, the readers for keeping the view count high consistently and being unknown support, the favourites and followers and my friends, for inspiring me with their constant pestering to update.

Also, if anyone is interested: on my Collection of the Damned blog for the Victors, I've done another post which includes a map of Panem with where the districts are, as well as some information about why certain districts are neighbouring to others using canon and EsmeraldaVerse information. Check it out!

This, finally, is the end to Wild One!