The winner of today’s sponsorship vote is…Lydia Wright of District 12!
Congrats Lydia, you get a free attribute point added to your lowest attribute (Strength).
The grass billows around me as I lie in wait for the tribute who’s campsite I’ve stumbled upon to return. From what I can tell, the camp belongs to a single tribute. One backpack, one blanket, and one clear imprint in the grass where the tribute slept last night. As I wait here in hiding, an arrow already resting against my bowstring, I’ve been running through who it might be in my head. Someone smart enough to take their weapons with them, but not smart enough to leave no trace of their camp. The backpack’s just sitting out in the open. I’d thought it was a trap at first, but quickly realized that some stupid tribute was just too lazy to carry all of their things when they went off hunting, or to the bathroom, or wherever they went.
My fingers are sore, wrapped around the shaft of my arrow as they have been for the last half-hour or so. I stretch them, relief flowing through my hand as my knuckles crack.
I finally hear the sound I’ve been waiting for. Rustling grass, coming closer and closer. My fingers tense, and my heart starts racing as I pull the bowstring taunt and turn silently in the direction of the approaching footsteps. I’ll have one shot. If I miss, I won’t have time to fire another shot before whoever it is comes after me.
The footsteps stop. I shoot up out of the grass and launch an arrow.
A satisfying thud fills my heart with relief as my arrow sinks into the chest of the male from District One. He looks down at his chest in shock as blood begins to pool on his shirt. He crumples to the ground, dropping his knife on the ground. I rush over quickly and kick it away as he reaches helplessly for it.
I don’t need any knowledge about anatomy to know that from the amount of blood he’s already lost, he’ll be dead in a matter of minutes.
The male looks up at me, the last person he’ll ever look at before he slips into unconsciousness after a few more seconds. I doubt he thought it would end this way. A Career, shot down by a single tribute without even getting a chance to fight for his life.
As the man continues to bleed out, I clean out his backpack of essentials and stuff them into my own. By the time I’ve folded up his blanket and packed it away, his cannon has fired.
I don’t look back as I hear the hovercraft arriving to collect his body. His death is nothing but a stepping stone to me winning the Games and escaping this arena with my life.
I steal a glance over my shoulder as the woman from 8 fades out of view, still cursing at me for escaping her. She’d nearly killed me when I stumbled into her makeshift campsite, firing off two arrows at me. Luckily for me, she seems to be nursing a pretty massive injury to her foot (Attribute Point Lost), as she didn’t even make an attempt to chase after me.
I slow my run to a light jog, noticing a soreness in my side and looking down to see that one of her arrows has sliced a gash in my side (Attribute Point Lost). Nothing life-threatening, but I need to get it bandaged if I want to avoid an infection.
My foot catches on something in the grass and I’m suddenly sent tumbling to the ground, daggers of pain shooting through my body from my side wound. I scramble quickly to my knees, ready to fight for my life, only to drop my guard almost immediately when I see my district partner lying in the grass.
A cursory glance tells me immediately that something’s wrong with him. His eyes are closed, but he’s not asleep, or else he would have woken up when I tripped over him. I tentatively reach out a hand and put it to his forehead. His skin radiates heat into my palm. A fever. A bad fever.
He’s so close to the woman from 8’s camp, so it’s a shock that he’s still alive to begin with. I look around the area, finding a backpack with a half-eaten granola bar left in it. No water. And nothing to collect the rain that fell two days ago. I’m lucky to even have a half-full bottle left over from the supplies Daniel and I divvied up on the first day of the Games. It seems so long ago now.
I look down at my dehydrated district partner. I don’t know him. I hardly know anything about him, besides us both calling the same place home. He’s going to die out here. Even if I gave him a sip of my water, brought his fever down, it would be a useless gesture. I know his training score. I know he has as much chance of winning the Games as I do, conscious or unconscious. Almost every tribute left is far stronger than us. It’s only a matter of time.
My hand grips the small knife that I have in the pocket of my backpack. I can’t just leave him here to linger and suffer. Steeling myself, I take a breath before pushing the knife into his chest. He doesn’t even flinch. He’s that far gone, already swimming in a sea of black unconsciousness.
It takes a while for his heart to finally stop fighting to keep him alive. His cannon finally mercifully fires.
I wipe the knife off in the dirt as best as I can, but his blood is still spattered across the blade when I slip it back into my backpack.
The plan was a good plan. Matthew and I had been stalking the alliance for two days, waiting for them to let their guard down, for a moment to strike without fear of injury. And that moment came only an hour ago. The man from 5 had stepped away from his two allies, presumably for a moment of solitude. The plan was simple. Matthew would sneak up and spear him, while I covered him from a solid twenty feet away, ready to charge in if his allies came to his aid.
It all went so wrong.
I don’t know how exactly how the man had realized he was being stalked, but he did. And I didn’t expect his aim with his trident to be as accurate as it was. Neither did Matthew, right up until it slammed into his chest and sent him crashing to the ground.
Without his weapon, the man from 5 was easy to dispatch with my katana, a simple decapitation that cut off his cry for his allies. I would have killed the two of them off if the male from 11 hadn’t started firing arrows at me after the man’s cannon had fired, forcing me to make a hasty retreat. Matthew’s cannon fired a few minutes later, as he finally bled out. At least he left his supplies with me before we enacted the plan.
It really was a good plan, before it all went to hell.
Strongest Tributes: Sierra Strom (D2 F), Danae Brooks (D6 F), and Alejandra Guzman (D9 F)
Most Agile Tribute: Hannah Garringer (D5 F)
Most Cunning Tribute: Hannah Garringer (D5 F)
Most Charming Tributes: Sierra Strom (D2 F), Ahmae Messersmith (D4 F), Hannah Garringer (D5 F), Ryan Lilly (D6 M), Danae Brooks (D6 F), Matt Vega (D7 M), Alejandra Guzman (D9 F), Lydia Wright (D12 Female)
Strongest Overall Tribute: Hannah Garringer (D5 F)
Alliances and attribute scores have been altered due to today’s events. Please note the changes on the respective pages.
The benchmark for Day Five has been posted on the home page!