The Fourth Quarter Quell

It's been twenty years since the Capitol had been reinstated, combining forces with District 13 to completely destroy the survivors of the Mockingjay rebellion, once again taking control of Panem. But the rebels hadn't made it easy for the Capitol; expecting defeat, they deleted all citizen records from the database. It took nineteen years, but they managed to once again recollect the data from the citizens. And by popular request, the Hunger Games have been reinstated; guaranteed to be more brutal than ever. And starting with the fourth Quarter Quell means that they will be more over the top than ever before. And this year's twist: To show that you can never be prepared for an uprising, the tributes were selected in advanced without their knowledge, taken in their sleep, and woke up in a Capitol bedroom. And this time, the Careers aren't the only bloodthirsty ones, so watch as friendships are made and betrayed, kids turn to killers, and most hauntingly of all, a ruthless monster...

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13. Thirteenth Scenario- The Final Battle

 

Alanna Pyre:   Alanna's eyes refused to shut. Her body ached all over. She sat up, and a wave of nausea took over. She held her head to stop the spinning, but it didn't stop. It was cold. Very cold. Alanna zipped her jacket up, and looked out of her cart. It was pitch black; not even midnight, but very close. A scent hit her nostrils, and she began to salivate at the aroma of fresh blood. Her eyes grew wide as she realised that she was craving blood.   "No!" Alanna cried out weakly. She felt extremely hungry, and dehydrated, despite the fact that she had gorged herself a few hours previously. She pulled out her chicken and water, and began to eat. But it wasn't filling at all; in fact, it felt like a foreign substance in her stomach. Maybe if it had some delicious, tangy blood with its metallic taste, and the way it ran down her throat. Alanna slapped herself. What was happening to her? Then it dawned on her. The zombie from earlier had coated its staff in infectious saliva, and stabbed her multiple times. She was badly infected, the zombie virus rushing through her bloodstream. Alanna was going to become a zombie, and prey on the remaining tributes' flesh, devouring it ravenously like a primal monster; a Muttation. Then another thought occured to her. Even if she managed to kill the others, she wouldn't be allowed to win, due to the fact she was already dead. And the Capitol would probably have a ball watching the young tribute eat the remaining competitors. And Alanna wasn't going to give them the satisfaction.   She stood up, everything in agony, and kicked open the cart door. She put her bag on, and stood on the edge, gazing down at the floor below. It was a good sixty foot drop to the floor. "I'm so sorry that I couldn't come home, Zach." She choked, salty tears dripping off her face, falling down to the grey floor, exploding into a million transparent glistening shards. Alanna swallowed hard, and stepped off. Everything seemed to slow down as the cart became smaller, the wind whipping past her falling figure. She was sure that a camera must be watching her, so she lifted her hand up, and flipped her middle finger at the camera, showing that she was refusing to play this game on anyone's terms but her own. Then she hit the floor head first, the small girl's skull shattering, blood flying everywhere. The rest of her body hit with a sickening crack, and the cannon fired, one less tribute to worry about.   Markus Lucian:   The sun streaming into the small room woke Markus up. He rubbed his eyes, and stood up, almost not seeing the sponsor parachute on the floor. He looked at it in surprise, and opened it up. He found a full bottle of water, and a large strip of bacon. Markus had to stop himself from devouring the mouth watering meat right there and then. He packed both items up, and put his bag on. He walked down the stairs, through the puddle of blood, and out of the door.   Markus gasped loudly as he saw the small body on the floor, laying in a pool of blood that was flowing from her head. It was the girl from 6, still wearing her equipment. She must have perished in the early hours of the morning. The hovercraft hadn't arrived yet, and she was still wearing her equipment. Unable to resist the temptation, Markus stripped the dead girl of her weapons, and her bag. He put the throwing knives around his belt, and fully loaded the blowgun. He opened her bag, and found two chickens, a bottle of water, and a nearly empty tub of poison. Markus closed the girl's eyes, and walked down the road to a large silver building, lined with shattered windows. He sat down in the shade of the building, the slightly outwards pointing roof obscuring the sun from the orange walls, the paint chipped and cracked from several years of dereliction.   The anthem boomed out, and Markus dropped the blowgun in surprise. It was still alright. "Thank god..." He muttered as he listened to what the head Gamemaker had to say.   "Ah, good morning tributes! Now before we go any further, I must congratulate our two brave warriors, Markus Lucian from District 5 and Sarah Myers from District 8, for making the final two in the arena!" A wide smile split Markus' face as the message replayed in his head. The final showdown was today. By tomorrow, he'd be out of the arena, and ready for the victory celebrations.   "And to mark the occasion of having the final two tributes, we have a very special prize on top of the Cornucopia for whoever gets there first!" Markus stood up, and began to jog in the direction of the golden horn. "The prize is in a box, and is extremely special because the contents will bend to whatever the receiver wishes, be it medicine, a weapon, or anything else you could possibly desire!" This was too good. Far too good. Markus ran through the smoldering remains of the mall tents.   "But that isn't the only surprise, tributes!" Markus slowed down. What else could they add? It was the final two, and it was an unspoken rule that the last death must be at the hands of the victor, as it made for good entertainment. "Because of the wonderful performance of you two, the bodies of the zombies, Emily and Gryffon, have been successfully returned home," Thank god. Redhead and Score Three had overstayed their welcome by a long shot. "But there is another tribute waiting in the wings to kill you. She is currently safe with us, but is turning fast, and nobody will know who she will attack first." Perfect. Another tribute that should have been buried deep in the ground of their district would be roaming the arena soon. But not if Markus ended it quickly.   "And it doesn't end there, tributes! There is also a Mutt that is guarding the prize that resides on the Cornucopia, and he is simply adorable!" Wonderful. Why couldn't they make it a simple fight to the death, without all these added complications? "The members of the public have taken to naming him Titus, which I'm sure you'll understand the meaning if you have watched the previous Games." Titus. The original psychotic cannibal of the Hunger Games. He was like a mixture of Markus, Score Three and Redhead thrown into one body. But since he was still alive when he devoured the tributes' major organs, he wasn't deemed suitable victor material, and they instead gave the crown to the socially awkward, introverted boy from 2 that essentially just hiked around the perimeter of the arena for the fifteen days that the Games went on for, whilst Titus was a fighter. He should have won, even if his methods were unorthodox for the time.   "Titus is a one foot tall wolf Mutt, with a weight of two tonnes. His largest weapon is his mane, which fires thousands of spikes at whoever decides to approach him. The inside of his mouth is closer to a shark's than a wolf's though, and is lined with row upon row of razor sharp teeth, so watch out for that." Markus walked past the blackened skeletal remains of a barn as the information was thrown at him.   "In addition to all of this, Titus doesn't see like a normal Mutt would either," Markus listened intently as he passed by a falling rafter, that exploded into a pile of ash as it hit the floor, the wind blowing away the black dust, "His vision is reliant on heat, but don't think that you can take advantage of that; he has an extremely powerful sense of smell, which will be nearly impossible to mask on your own." Markus pulled out the Mutt Away, and held it close. He would be able to use this to throw the Mutt off.   "Good luck, and I hope to see the victor very soon." The final notes of the anthem strained out, and silence fell onto the arena. But this silence was different from the others. It almost felt as if the air was thick with the presence of death. "Ignore it," Markus told himself as he placed the aerosol into his belt, "It's just a bunch of strangers that you didn't know at all."   Markus walked past several barren, black trees, until he came across a massive hole in the ground. "The lake..." He said quietly as he followed the outline of the once large body of water. This place held so many memories of his time in the arena; it almost felt like a second home to him. Here was where he met up with Score Three.  Gryffon, he corrected himself. Gryffon Sauntor of District One. And Redhead, better known as Emily. Emily Horwitz. His allies. Key members of the Cold Killer alliance. The three tributes with the highest chance of winning. Two of them dead. If it weren't for Markus, those two would have probably been the last two left, not him and Sarah. A wry smile crossed his features. This was the girl that Zayn was willing to protect until his dying breath. There were only two explanations as to how she was still in the Games. Either she was secretly a powerhouse, or Zayn's death had driven her insane. Markus hoped it was the latter; crazy was easier to kill than powerful.    Markus hopped around the pool of acid that had gathered by the lake side, where he took down the super Mutt alongside that small kid. She had died in the early hours of the morning. He wondered which way fate had decided to off her. She seemed intelligent, and strong willed, which meant that she either lost in a fight against a larger opponent, or commited suicide. Markus stopped himself as he realised he was reminiscing about people that wanted him dead. What was happening to him? These people didn't matter to him at all, so why were they so prominent in his head? Markus swung his club at a tree in frustration, splitting the charred bark in half.   An arrow suddenly flew past Markus' head, slamming into another tree close by. Another followed, this time landing just short of him. He looked to see Sarah standing on top of a incinerated building, holding the girl from 12's bow closely, a katana attatched to her belt. Markus leapt out of the way as another arrow shot down at him, this time hitting where he had just been standing. He pulled out his crossbow, and took aim. He fired, but Sarah leapt off the building, the powerful bolt leaving a hole in the building. Sarah emerged from the trees, this time clenching her katana. Markus fired another bolt at her, but she leapt out of the way, but not fast enough. It skimmed her thigh, and she faultered slightly.   "Zayn, he hit me! Now what?!" Markus stood there, confused as Sarah frantically looked to the sky. Definitely insane. Without warning, she charged at him, slicing his shoulder with her katana. "Damn you, bitch!" He roared. Crazy or not, she needed to be taken down. He slung his crossbow over his back, and pulled out his club, the trusty weapon feeling like an old friend in his powerful arms. He pulled his arms back, and swung hard, catching Sarah in the stomach. She let out a twisted squeal, and punched him in the face, before looking around. She bolted towards the treeline, heading north. But what could...?   The prize! She was going to get it first, and use it to win. Markus quickly put his club away, and pulled out the blowgun, and took off after the mad tribute. She expertly weaved through the maze of soot and ash, Markus falling behind. She turned suddenly, and Markus lost her. He stepped forward, and was met with the golden shine of the Cornucopia. He heard a deep, primal howl, and Markus retreated back into the unprotective treeline, and pulled out the Mutt Away. In all the excitement, he had forgotten about Titus. He pressed the can, and a sterile fog encompassed him, becoming absorbed by his flesh, sending his shoulder wound into a blazing fit of agony. Markus gripped his teeth, and put the empty canister back. It could come in hand later, you never knew with the Gamemakers.   Quietly, Markus stepped towards the Cornucopia, his crossbow in hand, but Titus was nowhere to be found. He made his way to the golden horn, and saw a massive shining crate sitting on the top, reflecting the sunlight brightly. Suddenly, a needle flew past his hand, and Markus turned behind him to find Sarah running from a small wolf. Both of his opponents were running right into him. Markus sprinted away from the mouth, and ran around the back of the Cornucopia, searching for some way to get up there to the prize that would be his ticket out of there. But before he could, something ran into him, sending him flying. Markus looked up, his head spinning, to find Titus staring him down. The damn Mutt Away hadn't worked!   Markus desperately scrambled to his feet, loading his crossbow. The Mutt leapt at him, exposing its chest as it flipped mid air, and Markus fired. The bold penetrated deep into the creature's chest, sending it off its course. It landed, still alive, then collapsed on the floor, the bolt sticking out of its stomach. To be sure it wasn't going to pull an Emily or a Gryffon, Markus pulled out his club, and proceeded to bring it down on the dying creature's skull, not stopping until all that remained was a bloody stump. Markus panted, and wiped the sweat off his brow as he switched back to the crossbow, and approached the gaping golden mouth that once held a rich bounty of treasure. But he didn't find Sarah in there like he expected. Instead, he found a broken bow in a pool of blood. A cry of pain sounded out, and Markus darted outside. Sarah was going for the crate!   Markus fired one of his two remaining bolts at her, and she fell off the Cornucopia before she could open the box. She landed on the floor, and stood back up, grabbing her katana. "How dare you," She muttered as she ambled towards him, "How dare you try and stop me and Zayn from winning!" Sarah suddenly broke into a sprint, knocking Markus to the floor. He struggled to move as she let out a sadistic laugh.  "What the hell is wrong with you?!" He yelled as she moved her hand to get her katana out. "Be quiet! Zayn told me that I will fight and win! And I will!" She closed her fingers around the blade, and Markus stuck his own hand out, grabbing the girl's wrist. He squeezed hard, and he felt the bones shatter as she let out a guttural scream. He then shoved her off him, and he stood up.   "Hate to break it to you, but your precious Zayn's dead." Markus said, laughing slightly. "Liar! He's with me now, giving me strength to win!" Sarah retaliated, pulling her katana out with her good hand. "Sorry, but you're mistaken, honey," Markus taunted, "I killed him a couple of days ago. You know, he was deluded too." He pulled his club out, "He though that he could save you. I bet that he's rolling in his grave right now, you know." Sarah cried out, a raw and powerful cry, and rushed him. But Markus was expecting this. He turned, and ran. She was emotionally weak, like Zayn, but she had some strength. He was going to have to exhaust her. Markus ran around the perimeter of the launch area, leaping over the tribute platforms, Sarah following with determination. Markus suddenly stopped, and stuck his leg out, causing Sarah to trip. But she clung onto him as she fell, her sharp nails digging into his forearm. She looked a complete mess, spikes were sticking out of her everywhere, her hair was matted, and her face was coated in blood. Markus lifted his arm, knocking his opponent off of him. But she immediately leapt to her feet, and knocked Markus' club out of his arm, the weapon falling to the floor.  "Congratulations!" He clapped as he dodged her blows, "You disarmed me!" Markus pulled out his crossbow, loading it with the final bolt. "But I have more than one weapon, sweetheart."   The bolt flew from the crossbow, sending Sarah flying across the field, landing in a slump. But no cannon fired. "How the hell?" Markus exclaimed as he picked up his club, and placed it in his bag. He didn't want to lose it. He also put his crossbow away; both weapons were useless. He pulled out one of the three knives, and held it in his hand. Sarah jumped up, the bolt sticking out of her stomach, preventing her from bleeding out. He threw the knife, the small weapon grazing Sarah's shoulder, but not doing much else. She swung her katana out, and sliced Markus' knee. A searing pain shot through the injury as blood began to flow out, but Markus ignored it, too driven by adrenaline to be bothered. He threw the second knife, this time stabbing Sarah's foot, but she continued to chase him, looking like a human pincushion with all of the weapons sticking out of her body. Markus turned, and stabbed his remaining knife into Sarah's chest, but missed penetrating anything major. Taking advantage of his temporary weaponless state, Sarah lifted her knee, and delivered the limb right into Markus' crotch. Tears pricked his eyes as he doubled over, the sheer agony causing him to vomit everywhere. Sarah rushed him again, and he barely avoided her as he ran away from the dangerous girl. He was running low on weapons, he had no knives or crossbow bolts, and his club would be useless in these fighting conditions; Sarah was too fast. That left the blowgun. He reached for the bag of darts, but found that there was a massive tear in the bag, the ammunition strewn across the field after falling out. There was only one dart left in the bag. He picked it up, and inserted it into the blowgun. Markus turned to fire, but noticed that Sarah had left his vision.   He crept around the corner of the horn, looking for her, but stood on a dart, a dark liquid covering his boot. Poison. His eyes widened as he remembered the substance, and pulled it out of his bag. He smothered the remaining dart with the liquid, and shoved it into the gun. Sarah suddenly leapt out of the mouth, and tackled Markus to the floor, snapping the blowgun in half.  "Look Zayn, I'm going to kill him! Aren't you happy?" Sarah's eyes were wide with shock and fear, the pupils massive. She had completely lost it. She wrapped her hands around Markus' broad neck with surprising strength, and began to choke the life out of him. Markus tried to gasp for air, but found that he couldn't. She was going to win. He looked down, and saw the broken blowgun still in his hand. Useless. But then he noticed the tip of the dart sticking out. He grabbed the broken weapon, his head beginning to spin, and safely deposited the dart into his hand. He blacked out for a moment as Sarah giggled wildly. He had to do it now. He lifted the dart with the last of his strength, and rammed it into Sarah's damaged wrist. He saw the black poison rush through her veins, and he became weak, on the verge of suffocating. He could feel his eyes beginning to roll over in his head.   "Zayn, he's nearly dead! I've done i-" Sarah's triumphant cries were silenced as she let go of Markus' throat, and grabbed her own, shuddering. Markus took in the well deserved oxygen, and watched as Sarah shook rapidly, her entire body going into a massive spasm. Her feral eyes glazed over, and she collapsed to the floor, followed by the sound of her cannon.   He had done it. Markus had killed her. He had won the Hunger Games! He stood up, a massive grin showing on his face. "Ladies and gentlemen of Panem, gaze upon your new victor, me, Markus Lucian!" He punched the air with triumph, before the pain in his leg caused him to fall to the floor. He pulled out the crossbow bolt from Sarah's chest, a fountain of blood gushing out, and looked over at the Cornucopia. He needed to get to the box, or he'd be dead by the time the hovercraft arrived to take him home. Markus staggered across the blood stained field, and found indents on the side of the magnificent golden horn. He used them to climb up to the top of the Cornucopia, and pulled open the box. Inside was a large bottle labeled 'Full Heal', and Markus pulled it out, before necking the sweet liquid, the creamy fluid flowing down his throat. His pain immediately dulled down, until it was non-existant. He threw the bottle to the floor, the glass shattering everywhere.   Then something occured to him. There hadn't been an announcement stating that he had won. Maybe they were just running behind, he thought as he sat down, his legs dangling off the edge of the Cornucopia. He waited, and waited, and waited, but nothing happened. Where was the celebration? Was there somebody else? No, everyone was dead. Markus was the only living being in the arena. Wasn't he? He looked around, a chill running through his body. Something wasn't right here. He jumped off the Cornucopia, and crept around the launch zone. He was met with a heavy silence; not even the occasional buzz of an insect reached his ears. The arena was completely empty.   Markus walked away from the golden horn, and headed north, walking past several burned buildings as the sun dipped below the horizon. Why hadn't the Capitol picked him up yet? Markus set his eyes upon an area of undamaged buildings, and wandered towards them. Had he done something wrong? No, he had been the last tribute alive. That was the point of the Hunger Games, to keep on killing until nothing remained for you to kill. The sun had now completely vanished, and the arena was plunged into darkness. Markus reached the door of a red building, and pushed it open, feeling like he was intruding. Inside he found a large plush sofa, similar to the one inside the justice building back home. He sat down, and pulled out his bacon. He devoured the delicious meat, and drank half of the water from the sponsor-given bottle. Now that he was full, Markus got comfortable, and sat down on the sofa, waiting for the anthem to play, to let him know he was the victor. But nothing came, and Markus eventually lost the battle to remain awake, slipping into the depths of unconsciousness.
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