Early in the morning on Day 5, Cal Dynam (D2) returns to the remains of the Stables. There’s nothing left; where the structure once stood there is only charred, still smoldering rubble and stones. He pokes and prods around the ruins looking for one thing and one thing only. After nearly an hour of turning over stones and bits of burnt wood and hay, he finds it. Miraculously still shining and pristine, Malia Wells’ (D1, deceased) ring sat, wedged between a particularly large beam and… something white? Cal picks up the ring and the white thing, trying to identify its shape and strange texture. 

​

Cal shrieks, dropping the finger bone as soon as he identifies it, clutching the ring so hard his knuckles go white. A single tear begins to roll down his face and standing there in the dark he allows himself to grieve his ally. No, he mentally chastises himself. She was my friend. After composing himself, Cal steps carefully out of the rubble, trying to avert his eyes to avoid seeing any more bones.

 

Cal walks south, meandering along the Snow Banks, still holding Malia’s ring in one hand, his other secured tightly around the hilt of his sword. A lone reindeer pokes its head out of the trees, obviously having gotten separated from the rest of the herd. Cal approaches it slowly, slipping the ring into his pocket and reaching out to pet the animal’s head. The reindeer grunts approvingly, allowing Cal to stroke his head and even licking his hand.

​

“Hey buddy,” Cal speaks to the reindeer sadly, pulling a fist full of hay out of his pack. “Look what I managed to save.” He feeds the reindeer, who has quickly taken a liking to the tribute and happily munches on the hay. “We lost Malia. She’s gone.” Cal whispers to no one in particular. The reindeer gives an assenting grunt, settling down beside Cal in the snow. 

​

“Now all I have is this reindeer,” Cal laughs to himself, but the laughing quickly devolves to hyperventilating and sobbing. He can no longer keep his pent-up feelings in. The career, so strong and brutal in his actions and his words, cries like a baby, burying his face in the reindeer’s hide. It’s hours before he finally regains his senses. The sun has not risen since it set at midday on Day 4, so Cal dons his headlamp and retrieves Malia’s ring from his pocket, making a silent promise to his fallen ally to avenge her, and thanking her for showing him what love could be like. 

​

Cal needs a plan, and a good one. He’s alone, and he knows for a fact that the District Six girl and little boy from Ten are allied. There could be other new alliances that he’s not even aware of. He sits, leaning against his new reindeer friend, deep in thought when a parachute descends, landing next to him. His stomach rumbles and he’s grateful for the bread and water his mentor has sent. As he eats, he uses the blade of his sword to draw out a plan in the snow. 

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Chivonne Ashford (D8) lies on top of the Cornucopia, looking up into the night. She wants to scream at the injustice of her whole situation, but she knows that would only alert all of the remaining tributes to her exact location. Maybe that would be best, she thinks to herself. Maybe I could lure them all here and ambush them. 

​

“Stupid idea,” she mutters to herself, thinking of what Harvey would say at the foolhardy idea. She can’t erase images of him from her mind; images of him in his final moments, the sword sticking out of his mangled body, joins images of Matilda Gilbert (D12, deceased) having her throat ripped out by mutts. It makes it very hard to find any peace. 

​

“I have to kill him,” Chivonne says out loud, forcing herself to visualize the face of Cal. She channels all of her rage toward him but even then she can feel her resolve wavering. Killing is not something Chivonne wants to do, but with so few tributes left, she thinks she’ll be hard pressed to get out alive without killing. 

​

“Don’t get yourself killed, Chiv,”says a voice in Chivonne’s head. It’s the voice of Matilda, and she can feel the other girl’s presence beside her. For a moment, she doesn’t feel alone. But a sharp gust of wind brings her back to reality - Matilda is not there because Matilda is dead. And so is Harvey. 

​

Chivonne reaches down and touches the knife wound on the back of her leg, wincing in pain at the contact. She’s tried to keep snow packed on it, but what she could really use is some medicine. As if her mentor can read her thoughts, a parachute drops down next to her not minutes later.

​

“Thank you,” Chivonne whispers to the sky, opening the package to pull out a first aid kit, a set of knives, and water. She treats the wound with healing balm before wrapping it in gauze and then spends a few moments examining her new weapons. 

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Tesla Watt (D5) cannot sleep. She’s tucked into her sleeping bag, deep in the Candy Forest. It’s warm enough, but still dark. Her mentor has sent her a headlamp to combat the darkness, though, and that’s not the reason she lies awake for hours. Tesla has not been able to stop crying since she saw Posi Rio’s (D5, deceased) face projected in the sky the previous night. She’s riddled with guilt having left him alone in the house in the middle of the candy forest, sure that he could survive on his own for a few days. She had been wrong and now she cannot stop agonizing over his death. She turns in her sleeping bag and faces the ground when she sees a small bug of a brilliant red color, made of some sort of sticky taffy, carrying a piece of hard candy on its back. Tesla is once again reminded of her district partner and the little bug he carried around with him.

​

He wouldn’t want me to waste time crying for him, Tesla thinks to herself, her eyes drifting up to the dark night sky, punctuated with only a few bright stars. He would want me to stand up and fight.

 

Tesla wipes her eyes and rolls up her sleeping bag, shoving it in her pack and picking up her spear from the ground before attaching the headlamp to her head. Fear and doubt creeps back into her mind… What if the lamp battery dies? she worries. The Candy Forest, although beautiful and seemingly perfect, is riddled with danger. Tesla has seen something large and red gliding around, between the trees, and witnessed a stray reindeer falling into the river of chocolate, not to be seen again. Luckily, there are plenty of small, round mints around where she has set up camp. She plucks a few off of a nearby bush and pockets them. Of course, Tesla isn’t stupid. She won’t be eating the mints but she’s run out of rocks to check for traps, so these will have to do. 

​

Tesla packs her things quickly and walks back the way she came, taking the exact path she remembers taking the day before. She’s pretty sure she’s cleared any traps but tosses the mints in front of her as she walks just to be safe. After a few hours of walking, the red and white striped trees and vibrant pink clouds finally fade away and Tesla finds herself back in the pristine white landscape she’d become accustomed to. She sighs, walking toward the Cornucopia alone and praying that no one else has set up camp there. 

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Ianthe Berengy (D6) and Tiberius Bournes (D6) are roped into the sturdy branches of trees clustered next to the Workshop. During the night, a group of disgruntled reindeer have congregated beneath them, apparently very angry that their warm stables were burnt down. Tiberius and Ianthe had watched, mildly impressed, as Chivonne and Harvey Zea (D12, deceased) executed their plan the night before, but now that the displaced reindeer are angry at them it is a huge problem. 

​

“Ianthe, look,” Tiberius noticed the reindeer first, tapping Ianthe awake. When she woke, she took note of the reindeer, counting seven. All of them looked rather mad, their brown eyes glaring up into the trees at the two allies, their antlers looking dangerous even from all the way up in the trees. 

​

“We need to get away from here,” Ianthe had said decisively after staring down the reindeer for a bit. 

Tiberius had spent most of the night and morning helping Ianthe tend to her wounds with her leftover healing balm and the duo have been trying to formulate a plan to escape the trees. Although they cannot tell time now that the arena is perpetually dark, it is about midday when two parachutes land in an adjacent tree. Tiberius unties himself and, using his agility skills, jumps over to grab the parcels. Ianthe opens hers to find a ten foot length of rope and meat jerky, and Tiberius receives water and meat jerky as well. 

​

 While eating their jerky, an idea comes to Ianthe, inspired by her newly acquired rope. 

​

“Tiberius, can you grab the rope out of my pack?” Ianthe asks, switching on her headlamp and urging Tiberius to do the same. The young boy obliges, passing Ianthe the additional five feet of rope from her bag and then perching on a nearby branch watching as she tied the two ropes together. “Okay now, see that stick? Just up there above my head? Can you break it off for me?” 

​

Once again Tiberius obliges and passes the stick to Ianthe. She ties it to one end of the rope. 

​

“Okay, now you have to trust me on this one, but do you see the Workshop roof? Right over there?” Ianthe points out of the stone of the roof which is visible through the trees. It’s about fifteen feet away from the outermost tree of the little forest. Tiberius nods, starting to realize what Ianthe is suggesting. 

​

J… U… M… P? Tiberius signs, and then signs it again because Ianthe struggles to make out his hands in the dark, even with the light of both their headlamps. She nods enthusiastically.

​

“If we can make it to that tree, the one closes to the roof, I think we can jump onto the roof and get away from the reindeer,” Ianthe finishes, starting to pack her things up. Tiberius follows her lead, putting his leftover food and supplies into his pack and putting it onto his back. With practiced ease, he leaps from tree to tree until he’s balanced precariously on a thick branch, level with the roof, but too far away for even him to jump to. A few minutes later, Ianthe joins him on the large branch. She points out two stones that are particularly far apart, right on the edge of the roof and, with all of her might, throws the rope-and-stick-contraption toward the roof. She misses, one, two, three times. Finally, on her fourth try, the stick hits its mark and secures itself behind the two stones. Ianthe gives a big tug, checking to make sure the stick will not slip or break. It holds out and she turns to Tiberius, beaming.

​

“I’m going to tie this end of the rope to this branch. You’re much more agile than I am, so I think you’ll be able to get across the rope much easier than I can. Once you’re over there, hold onto the stick because I’m a bit heavier than you are,” Ianthe instructs Tiberius seriously. He looks determined.

​

Ianthe holds her breath, watching as Tiberius balances on the rope, his little arms held out to either side. A few times he teeters a bit too far to one side, but he recovers well each time. When he’s a few feet away from the roof, Tiberius gathers all his courage and launches himself off the rope and toward the roof. He rolls, hitting his head on the stones a few times, but gives Ianthe two big thumbs up when he realizes he’s landed on the roof and regained his footing. 

​

Ianthe exhales deeply and gives two thumbs up back before climbing onto the rope as well. She moves much slower than Tiberius but after a painstakingly long time, she makes it to the edge of the rope and Tiberius pulls her up with him. 

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Rhys Bullock (D11) wakes up confused. It’s dark out and all he knows is that Posi is dead. He saw his former ally’s face projected in the sky the night before and, like Tesla, feels intense grief. He’s also a bit confused as he was sure that Posi would be safe. But no, seeing the other boy’s face in the sky means only one thing to Rhys: he killed Posi. Not directly, obviously, but he had played a big role. 

Not wanting to stay put any longer, Rhys packs his things and treks through the snow heading north and toward the Cornucopia. He wants to find Tesla more than anything but it’s clear that she doesn’t feel the same way; it’s been more than a day and she hasn’t come looking for him. As he approaches the Cornucopia he sees a figure standing on top of it. A small part of him thinks it might be Tesla but as he gets closer he can see that it’s not. 

​

“What are you doing here?” Chivonne asks, dropping down the side of the horn and brandishing a brand-new knife. “You’re not here to kill me are you? If you are, that was a really shit attempt at being sneaky.” 

​

Rhys almost laughs at the accusation. “No, not here for you. I’m looking for Tesla,” he says. Chivonne’s eyes flash with recognition at the mention of the District Five girl. She shakes her head. 

​

“Sorry, I haven’t seen her around,” she puts down her knife when she notices that Rhys is not holding his talons. 

​

“Where are your allies?” Rhys asks before mentally kicking himself, remembering seeing Harvey’s face in the sky last night as well. Chivonne looks put out by his comment, so he quickly pushes out a rushed stupidquestionsorryforasking. This seems to placate the girl.

​

“I know we’re supposed to be killing each other but we’re both alone,” Chivonne says, turning away from Rhys and walking back toward the Cornucopia. “It would probably be a lot easier if we stuck together for company, at least for now.” 

​

Rhys mulls this idea over. He has no reason to distrust Chivonne, but no reason to trust her, either. Plus, after his last alliance ended so abruptly, he’s reluctant to get too close to someone else in the arena. But she’s right, it couldn’t hurt to have a bit of company. 

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Tesla is approaching the Cornucopia when she hears voices. She can’t place the girl’s voice, but the boy she knows is Rhys for sure. Not wanting to face the ally she left behind, Tesla shuts off her headlamp and turns, walking away as fast and as quietly as possible. She’s not sure where to head next. She could always go back into the Candy Forest, but the red mutation she’s seen gliding along in there makes her reluctant to do so. Instead, she heads south toward the Snow Banks. 

​

Once Tesla feels that she’s put a safe distance between herself and the Cornucopia she switches her headlamp back on and the light immediately lands on a reindeer. She jumps backward, startled, but her back hits something tall and hard. She turns quickly, pulling holding up her spear defensively but she’s too slow - Cal has already buried his sword in her stomach. 

​

“Sorry,” Cal says, pulling his sword out and pushing it forward again. Tesla sputters, blood and saliva dripping from the corner of her mouth. She looks down in disbelief as Cal stabs her a third time. She grasps for her stomach, trying in vain to keep the blood and tissue and other things… oh god are those my organs she thinks to herself, inside. Cal wipes his sword blade on his pants leg, beckoning the reindeer over and then jumping on its back. 

​

“See you around,” he smirks at Tesla, who has dropped to her knees in the snow and cries openly, trying desperately to stanch her bleeding midsection. Cal rides off on the reindeer and Tesla watches, her vision beginning to blur. 

​

No, no, no! She slumps backward in frustration, focusing on her breathing. In and out, just keep breathing. It becomes harder and harder, though, and her breaths become shallow and her thoughts fuzzy. 

​

“Say hi, Bess!” Tesla hears a familiar voice right at her side and turns to see Posi and his beetle. She’s relieved to see him but knows that it can mean only one thing. 

​

Boom! Her cannon sounds. 

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Ianthe and Tiberius managed to enter the Workshop through a skylight in the roof, using their rope contraption to drop safely into the middle of a storage room. It’s very warm in here compared to the outside and the room is dimly lit with candles. Ianthe thinks that this will be an excellent place to camp out for the rest of the day and into the night. 

​

“Doesn’t look like there’s anywhere soft here, though,” Ianthe says, looking around. “Maybe we could look in another room?” Tiberius nods in agreement and the two set out in search of a sofa or maybe a plush rug to lay on. 

​

They haven’t even made it out of the storage room when Ianthe hears a horrible sound coming from behind her. She whips around and sees the most horrible sight - Tiberius is strung up, dangling a few feet above the floor by ropes, with a number of blades protruding from his all over body - his arms, his chest, his stomach, his legs. He’s stepped into a trap and now he’s stuck, blood pooling on the floor beneath him.

​

“Tiberius!” Ianthe shrieks, starting to run toward him and then, realizing there could be more traps around, moving slowly and carefully, dropping random things off of the shelves on the walls to hopefully trigger any traps that are still active. When she reaches Tiberius, she begins cutting him down, using the blade on one of her yo-yos to slice through the ropes. He falls to the ground into the puddle of blood and Ianthe doesn’t know where to start or what to do - she knows that removing the blades could cause more bleeding but the boy is in pain and leaving them in would be torturous. 

​

“Oh, Tibby, no, no!” she looks down at the boy, who looks so small now. She’s struck by how young he truly is, how frail and little and innocent. He should not by lying here in front of her, dying. “What do I do?” She groans, looking into his face. His eyes are open wide and his mouth hangs ajar.

​

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Ianthe begins to cry. Tiberius’ breathing is ragged and he takes labored breaths but he musters up enough energy to raise his shaking hands and sign I’m OK… Thank you. He smiles up at Ianthe and she cries harder, digging around in her bag for anything to help him. She comes up empty and throws the bag across the room in frustration. 

​

Ianthe can do nothing but watch as Tiberius takes a few more labored breaths, his eyes closing for one last time. His cannon booms in the distance but Ianthe can barely hear it over the sounds of her own screams. 

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Chivonne and Rhys sit in the mouth of the Cornucopia, making a map in the snow of where they think the other tributes could be. They’ve heard two cannons over the past few hours and wonder whose they could’ve been.

​

“I hope it’s Cal,” Chivonne had said, and Rhys nodded in agreement.

​

“That would be nice,” he mused. “Or at least it would make it a lot easier for the rest of us.” 

​

They won’t know for sure who has died for a couple more hours at least. 

​

The pair sit in silence, unable to bring themselves to bond for fear of losing another friend. It is a comfortable enough silence, but it makes Rhys long for Posi and Tesla’s rambling side chatter and Aisly’s soft voice. Finally, a voice breaks the silence, but it’s much deeper than Chivonne’s.

​

“Mind if I drop in?” Cal appears before them, his sword held out. Chivonne immediately jumps up and so does Rhys, but he realizes he’s left his talons near the back of the horn. He cannot think of a scenario in which he lives through the next few minutes, but luckily, Chivonne has come to life with Cal’s presence. She’s livid. 

​

“Yes, actually,” Chivonne retorts, pulling a knife from her side and stabbing at Cal. He’s anticipating this though and easily side-steps her. Rhys uses this opportunity to run to the back of the horn and retrieve his talons and pack, throwing the latter over his shoulder. Cal seems to be fixated on Chivonne and vice versa, and they’ve moved their fight outside of the Cornucopia. Rhys can only think one thing as he sprints out of and away from the Cornucopia: I hope they finish each other off.

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​

Cal can tell that Chivonne is angry. Of course she is, he killed Harvey. But of course, she killed Malia so they could really call it even and both walk away. But these are the Hunger Games.

​

“You know,” Cal says, blocking a knife that Chivonne has thrown at him with the blade of his sword, “my entire family died in a fire.” 

​

“Ha,” Chivonne snorts, grabbing another knife and lunging for Cal’s legs. “Sorry to hear that. I guess that made Malia’s death even worse, huh.” Her voice drips with fake sympathy.

​

“You could say that,” Cal says, jumping out of the way and knocking the smaller girl aside with the hilt of his sword. Chivonne gasps as the hard metal hits her in the ribs. She lies in the snow as Cal walks closer.

 

“But really, all it did was make me want to kill you more.” He brings the blade of his sword down into the snow where Chivonne had been, but she rolls out of the way just in time. 

​

“You’re going to have to try harder than that,” she teasers, getting to her feet again. She throws another knife at Cal’s arm but misses. He retaliates by kicking her legs out from under her. 

​

“Whatever you say,” he taunts, pinning Chivonne down in the snow by putting his boot on her chest. She looks up into his eyes, full of hate, and holds her head high, refusing to die without dignity and giving Cal the perfect angle at which to put his sword through her neck. 

​

Her cannon sounds. 

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END OF DAY 5 STANDINGS

Cal Dynam (D2): alive

Tesla Watt (D5): deceased, 6th place (stabbed in the stomach by Cal) 

Ianthe Berengy (D6): alive

Chivonne Ashford (D8): deceased, 4th place (stabbed in the neck by Cal)

Tiberius Bournes (D10): deceased, 5th place (skewered by a trap in the Workshop) 

Rhys Bullock (D11): alive