CHAPTER ELEVEN!

ZACHARIAH.

WARNING : this chapter contains gruesome imagery and blood. Please read with precaution.

FALLON AND ROSALIE HAD BOTH FALLEN ASLEEP BESIDE ONE ANOTHER. They had gone to sleep talking about home and their families, the people who they miss the most. It was nice and Rosalie had found herself smiling genuinely for the first time in a while.

"Your District Partner, he's still alive?" Fallon asks as the two of them walk through the foliage. The brunette looks over to the girl from Seven and nods her head.

The boy from District Three had been the only one shown in the sky last night, meaning that Zachariah is very much alive out there somewhere. She's grateful, she hopes that at least one of them get to go home to their families.

"Have you tried to find him?" Fallon questions further.

"I don't think he was overly fond of me to begin with," Rosalie responds as she fiddles with the knife in her hand. "I'm glad he's alive though,"

Fallon smiles softly at her and nods her head. "My District partner was gone the first day. I think he was one of the people at the Cornucopia. He was a lovely boy, only thirteen,"

Rosalie's breath hitches at that — thirteen. That boy had hardly lived his life and the people in the Capitol were happy to stand by and watch him die. It makes her sick to her stomach. Whilst she is Seventeen, technically still a child, she had lived more of a life.

"I'm sorry," Rosalie breathes.

"Yeah, me too. Back home, his parents don't have anymore children. Lost their oldest in the Games a few years back. The one your mentor was involved in,"

She doesn't even have to mention him by name, but Finnick Odair automatically crosses her mind.

"She was only young too. I was so determined to help him get to the end, you know? I made it my job and I couldn't even get him past the first day," Fallon mumbles.

"That's not your fault. There are some extremely vicious people here, Fallon. He wouldn't blame you and I know his family wouldn't either. You shouldn't blame yourself for something like that," Rosalie gently assures, watching as her ally's eyes fill with unshed tears.

"Yeah, maybe,"

The two of them go quiet, the only noises around them are those of nature. Fallon skims her fingers over the surface of the trees, the rough trunk pushing against her skin. Rosalie, on the other hand, has her full attention on the space in front of them - her knife tightly grasped in her hand.

"What do you think you'd be doing if you were home right now?" Fallon suddenly asks.

"Probably watching the Games if somebody I knew was here. Otherwise, I'd be hanging out with my brothers. My youngest brother loves going to the beach and stacking up on his seashell collection," Rosalie smiles fondly.

"I'd probably be working, to be honest. Some lumber stuff, your idea sounds much more exciting though,"

A canon echoes through the air and the brunette jumps, her heart beating quickly again. Fallon looks as if she has absolutely no reaction to it, that it doesn't bother her at all which Rosalie cannot understand. Somebody around here has just died.

"It's only the third day," Rosalie breathes. "That's fifteen people gone already,"

"Some Games move faster than others. There was one a few years back that didn't even last five days," Fallon shrugs.

"I'm surprised they're letting it happen that quickly,"

Usually, the Capitol hate a short Hunger Games. It's less excitement for all of those that are watching and invested. They're often only short of something goes wrong or the people are getting bored — she doesn't think that would have happened in only three days.

"Who do you think it was?" Rosalie breathes hesitantly.

"Hopefully one of the Careers," Fallon responds bluntly.

She has to admit that it would definitely benefit them if it was but the feeling of guilt gnaws away at her. That's somebody who has died and she's thinking of it as beneficial.

"But I—"

Rosalie is cut off by somebody making their way through the trees. Her breath hitches and she holds her knife up, Fallon quickly equips the bow and they watch in horror as the person gets closer. There are two of them, they should be able to take one person. As they near, the brunette lowers the knife.

"Zachariah?"

The boy in question has a large gash on his forehead and is holding his right hand to his left arm which appears to be injured in some way - most likely broken. He has been in some sort of fight, probably the one that just resulted in a death judging by the blood spatters on his clothing.

"You two need to get out of here," He pants. "The boy from One is on a rampage. Just had his partner killed,"

"Okay, come with us," Rosalie tries to usher him over but he shakes his head. "Zachariah,"

"Go, now!"

Before they can move, Fallon is pushed to the ground by a strong force. Rosalie spins around and instinctively slashes the arm of the boy who had done so, the boy from District One. He has a large sword in his right hand, one that he swings at the brunette girl. She lets out a small screech and manages to duck underneath his arm, her smaller stature being a bit of an advantage.

Zachariah uses his weapon, which he'd just disconnected from his backpack, to try and fight the boy off. Fallon is out on the ground, her head bleeding, seemingly unconscious from the fall. Zachariah is struggling to fight off the other boy and Rosalie looks around desperately. Her knife is probably no help in this situation.

The bow.

She picks up Fallon's bow and strings it up. The brunette shakily aims it at the boy and shoots. The arrow hits him in the shoulder and he yells in pain, giving Zachariah time to gain the upper hand. Rosalie grabs another arrow and strings it up, hoping she can stop him this time. Just as the arrow flies, the boy plunges his sword forward.

Straight into the stomach of Zachariah.

She screams as both boys fall to the ground. The boy from District One has an arrow sticking through his neck and is gargling on his own blood, the sound utterly terrifying. The brunette runs over and kneels in the middle of both of them.

"Please," The boy from District One chokes out and she starts to cry. "Please,"

Deciding rather quickly she cannot leave him to suffer, she grabs her knife and places a gentle hand on his cheeks. He stares up at her as she shushes him, bringing the weapon over. She closes her eyes and sticks the knife into his temple, silencing his cries and ending his suffering.

"I'm sorry," she sobs.

The canon sounds as she turns her attention to the boy from her district. He's still alive, barely. The wound is much too big for her to do anything with.

"Zach," She uses the nickname for the first time and he looks at her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,"

"It's not so bad. It doesn't hurt too much," He tries to assure her but she isn't stupid.

"I don't know what to do," she chokes on her cries. "If I take it out, you'll die,"

"I'm going to die anyway. Do the same to me as you did to him. It'll be better that way,"

"I-I,"

"Rosalie, please. I don't want my family to watch me suffer,"

Tears cascade down her cheeks and she nods her head, biting her lip to mute her cries. She grabs the knife again and places his head gently into her lap. Lightly, she hums one of the nursery rhymes they learnt as kids back home and brings the knife to the side of his head. She leans down and presses her forehead against his before repeating the same action as earlier.

The canon sounds around her and she lets the sobs go, holding tightly onto the boy from home who she hardly knew, yet couldn't help but feel emotional over. She had just killed two people — two people who only wanted to go home to their families.

She's a monster, a killer.

The emotions well up and she screams like a banshee, alerting everybody that Zachariah Riverstone had died and along with it, the innocence of a teenage girl.

NOTES!

This one was harder to write and I apologise that parts of it are a bit graphic. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!