My Blood

A Hunger Games fan fiction. Please support me in the contest! :D
The video to the right does not seem to be working so here is a link to the original trailer for The Hunger Games: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RNxb28j5C1w

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4. The End

Screeching, Alyce is pulled away from me. I reach out blindly, swiping the air that used to hold us. A piercing scream echoes through the woods, and suddenly we are running, running for our lives.

I woke up with a jolt. Alyce was screaming, looking out over the vast plain. Pulling myself together, I crept towards her and smoothed down the back of her torn light green t-shirt.

“Alyce, what is it?”

She pointed forwards, into the distance. I followed her gaze. Three tributes were running towards us at an incredible speed, brandishing homemade fishhooks and clawing at the space in-between us and them. I recognised two as the tributes from district four, (which explained the fishhooks as that is their speciality there) but I couldn’t distinguish the other male one. All three appeared to be the same age as Alyce- fifteen- and were generously built, their muscles rippling under their t-shirts as they charged towards us.

“Move Alyce!” I cried, tugging at her desperately. It was no use, she was stricken by fear. Again, and again, I pulled, but her feet were planted into the sand and she was in no hurry to move them.

Run, save yourself.

Shaking my head fiercely, I battled against my instincts and locked a quivering hand with a horrified Alyce’s. We stood there, waiting for our death to catch up.

Alyce needs me.

They were so close now.

Live with regret, or die a good man?

I could smell their sweaty bodies.

Live or die?

Die or live?

The fishhooks cut through my breath, just millimetres from my mouth. I shoved Alyce to the ground, still screaming, and grabbed a gleaming axe from the sand. I could sense the need, the need to kill. Glinting in the baking sun, my axe sliced into the female’s spine. She doubled over in pain, a thread of curses shooting out from her bloody mouth, before tumbling to the ground like a ragdoll, limbs spread out unnaturally.

Murderer.

I hesitated, but that was enough. Roaring in rage, one of them pushed me aside. I sat up confused, but it was too late. They had Alyce in a headlock and were carving, with fishhooks and axes, into her abused back.  I cried out and waterfalls fled from my dark eyes, splattering onto the sand like raindrops. Alyce had stopped screaming and was lying still, covered in blood and sweat.

No. Not Alyce.

They turned to me. I was no longer only twelve and they were no longer strong and dangerous. My axe smashed through one skull and one neck, bringing their hearts to a stop. I rolled them to one side, and headed towards Alyce.

Alyce.

I only had eyes for Alyce. She was a mix of blood, sand and skin. Several bones stuck out of her ruined body, her eyes were wide open, but blind, not seeing me or the world. I cradled her head, pushing it up against my chest.

Alyce was dead.

I thought of our poor Grandfather, watching this alone on his miniature television, watching Alyce.

What had happened to my beautiful sister?

Tears were still flowing and I made no attempt to reduce them. Laying Alyce out across the red sand, I gathered up her small token, a single photograph. I examined it.

Alyce and I were standing at the front, holding hands; Mother and Father were behind, smiling down at us fondly and Grandfather was next to us, looking as grumpy as ever. I fought back a smile.

Those were the days. But those days are gone.

I rested the photograph on Alyce’s ruined chest and stood next to her, bringing my axe closer.

Alyce, my sister.

I plunged the axe deep into my chest, making my broken heart a reality.

The Hunger Games shall never win.

The last tear rolled down my cheek and fell to the ground, mimicking my body as I tumbled down, to my death.

Sister, save me.

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