The Earth Drinks Blood [Olivia vs Zack vs Karl]

[Bane]

Karl Miller of District 3

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Another cut to my neck, blood flowing more than before. It flows down my arms and legs, from a multitude of cuts. Absently I realize it helps cool me, covering me from the sun. I won't need to worry about overheating.

You fool. You're dying, you know. the voice, always so negative. I'm escaping, I'm not losing this fight. I have won, in my own small way. No more will I be forced to hurt, or to kill. I am free to be myself, if only for a few moments. Hurt them. A dying man's words can do a lot of damage. No, The voice can't control me. It doesn't matter if it yells, I don't have to worry about being hurt anymore.

What shall I say?... I know. Olivia is so focused on demons. So convinced I'm some sort of monster.

"Olivia. I'm... I'm not the demon." Hacking coughs rack my body, and I spit blood onto the ground. It soaks in, turning the dirt red.
"The real demon is the one that puts us here. The real demon... it's the Capitol." They are editing me away, of course. But they will have to show it when they do the tribute deaths. They will take away my voice. My lips can still be read. On the huge screens of the District Square, all will be able to read my silent message. Everyone will know I chose my District.

A smile crosses my lips. The Capitol can't control me anymore. Hopefully, I have left a message that some who were undecided will remember. The seed has been watered, now all it must have is time. Time to grow, flower, and spread its own seeds, spreading hatred of the Capitol. One day it will take the Capitol. Of course, I am only a droplet. But many droplets have fallen before me, and many shall fall after, nurturing the hatred, the want for change.

Spasms begin to rack my body, muscles confused at the lack of blood in my system. Fresh pain flares in my neck, causing a gasp, then more Hacking coughs. My legs give out, and I fall. My grip on the sword loosens, and it slips from my fingers. The grimace of pain turns back to a smile, glad I have separated myself from that last connection to the pain I have caused. Now I can leave. My eyes close for the last time.

---

In surprise, I find myself before a crowd. I thought I had escaped! Now that I'm dead, the voice has left, and so offers no comment at my weakness. True I can be myself in death, but death offers me no respite as of yet.

For at the front of the crowd stand my fellow tributes from this Games, scowling, with arms crossed, just like the rest of the crowd. Behind them stand people I've never seen before. Or have I? I recognize the ones further forward, but as my eyes venture to the back of the crowd I stop recognizing. But I can guess who they must be. These are my fellow tributes, including those from past games, who didn't survive.

Their glares of hostility break a whimper from my ghostly lips. Then I hear a laugh in the crowd, and I spreads like wildfire. The hostile glares soften, mouths change from sneers to smiles of welcome. A few beckon for me to come, and I run forward. I am welcomed into the crowd with open arms, and I feel insanely happy. The cares of the world can't effect me now.

This is where I belong.

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[HEY, ALEX!]

A smirk appeared on my face as I watched my knight slice into the demon’s neck. With a shot like that, it would surprise me it would survive. Blood flowed out of the monster’s neck as I threw my hands up in celebration. My demon was dead! O’ happy days are here again. But, actually, they were not. I was in the Hunger Games. Certainly the Gamemakers could not have gather just a gruesome monster. So, this demon I had just assisted in murdering was not a demon at all. It was Karl Miller, a fifteen year old tribute from District 3. He was another human being. Not a monster whose sole intent was to murder me in a meadow.

Tears rolled from my eyes as I really realized what I had done. My parents would not be proud of what I have done. Rather than Fred commenting me, he was probably mocking the words Karl had once said. Stop! My sister was not cheering. She was crying about the monster that I have become. As for my younger twin brothers, they were not copying the attacks I had done to this so called demon. The were covering their eyes from the gore that was being projected. As for my other 3 siblings, they weren’t watching me. They would probably looking away, asking why their oldest sister was trying to make another person bleed so much.

While the tears ran down my face, I remained silent. Through my hazy vision, I could view what I help do: kill a much smaller and certainly a more innocent boy. The cannon was fired and I knew it was real. I killed one of the only people I knew in the arena and, now, I wished I hadn’t. He could have gone all the way. He could have defeat much larger people and win the games. Maybe I could cheered him on as I viewed him from whatever afterlife that was chosen for me. (Probably hell, if I had to guess.) But, now, none of this matters because, obviously, none of this could become true. Karl was dead, after all.

I wasn’t fit to fight the other person. A matter of fact, I doubt I would be able to move. Call it shock or whatever the hell it is but my body was unable to exchange a muscle. Even if I was able to, I bet the water that filled my eyes would make my attacks miss so the person ,that I thought was my knight, would walk away without any more damage on his part. Plus, he did not appear to want to attack me. Perhaps he did. I did not know. If he wanted me dead at the moment, let him try. I would give one hell of a fight even it my vision was blurred from tears.

[sbeeg]

Zack Detroff

He's dead. That boy is dead. Zack just killed someone. That boy is dead like Enigma. He's with Enigma and Zack's not.

After the boy crumpled to the ground the girl made no move to attack him and Zack allowed his muscles to relax. After wiping his face of blood and tears Zack knelt down next to the kid. A little younger than him by appearance. Zack went for the kid's backpack but his eyes were still open, staring right at Detroff. With a choke from his throat, Zack slid the boy's eyes closed and flipped him over, taking his backpack off and opening it. The first thing that caught his eye was a first aid kit. Hungrily, Zack threw off his own pack and slipped the kit into his own. He had just slipped two Iodine tablets and the boy's jacket into his pack when he noticed the girl again. Without her, Zack would defiantly be dead. He restrained himself and put the pack holding the rest of the dead boy's items to the side, closer to the girl.

Standing, Zack slipped his backpack on his shoulders and walked over to the girl.

"'Til we meet again," Zack gave a little nod, not exactly remembering what he said and completely woozy from blood loss.

Zack turned, leaving the girl with the pack of items and the corpse of the dead boy. He stopped for only a second to wrap up his ear in the newly acquired jacket and stuff it in his bag.

Can't go leaving parts of yourself lying around.

Zack has:

• Machete
  
• Bag
  
• Sunscreen
  
• Empty Water jug
  
• Two Iodine tablets
  
• Medical Kit
  
• Karl's jacket
  
• His ear
  

[HEY, ALEX!]

My knees were pulled to my chest as my arms gripped tightly around him. It was as if I was hugging my body but my knees were included. Well, obviously, I was on the ground because such a thing was impossible to be done while standing. Not was the time to be thinking of such ridiculous and useless things. I was grieving the loss of the one of the two people I knew in the games. Oh, and the second person I tried to kill in the games. The first was the district 2 girl that I failed at murdering in the Bloodbath. Anyways, I was in shock and it was not likely I would move so soon.

I was surprised to see a backpack appearing at my feet. The other male said something but I was sure what. It was something on the lines of seeing me again. I hoped we wouldn’t. I did not how I would react to viewing him once again. Maybe I would seek revenge since he did “technically” kill Karl or, perhaps, become as motionless as I had when the cannon sounded. Either way, I knew I could not control myself. I did not catch the name of the other boy and, believe it or not, I did not view his face too well. This was a good thing since, well, it is difficult to kill someone once you know his or her name.

I swung the backpack unto my shoulder and got to my feet once the other person was gone from my view. My eyes, once filled with tears, were red and somewhat raw from the leaking of water from my eyes. Blood covered me and, oddly, I was sadden it was not my own. I knew Karl’s blood covered me but I couldn’t help to think that the other boy’s blood did too. I did notice his lack of blood when he left me here. Karl hadn’t attacked me but his broadsword did pierce the other’s skin. I was overcome with grief again as I realized Karl had not attacked me. Sounds stupid, right? The fact he did not touch me sadden me. It was as if he was refusing to attack me which only made me feel more guilty for his death.

Instead of my feet taking me far away from the gore, they moved toward Karl’s lifeless body. I notice his broadsword was not taken from him. I would not take it, either. I was not my weapon, the thing that keeps a person alive in the games. Though his had failed to do so, it was still worthy of Karl’s possession. So, before I would leave his body forever, I placed the sword handle over his beatless heart with the blade pointing to his feet. Carefully, I placed his hands upon the handle, giving him the look of an honored knight. I knew than Karl was, in fact, my true knight and not the other boy. Once I was satisfied with how I placed him, I ran. I ran from the damaged I caused. I ran from emotions that were about to overcome my mind. I ran, knowing I had one less person in the arena that could save me.