The Hunger Games - Another End

"My last arrow's in your tourniquet," I say.
"Make it count," says Peeta, unzipping his jacket, letting me loose.

So I free the arrow and tie the tourniquet back as tightly as I can manage. I rub my frozen hands together, trying to regain circulation. As I make it over to the edge of the horn and hang over its lip, I can feel Peeta's hands grasp my ankles for support.

At first I don't see him in the dim light and oceans of blood, but then Cato comes into view. The raw hunk of meat that used to be my opponent slithers underneath me, hardly recognisable. His body is so mauled and ripped; it is astounding he is still alive. A weak sound emits from the torn flesh, and I know where his mouth is. Please, it says.

Please.

Begging for my mercy. Pleading me to have pity. A wave of sorrow washes over me. Sorrow for my family, Peeta's family and Rue's. For everybody's. Sorrow for Prim, who has had to sit through this, witnessing my every move. A squeeze from Peeta's hands around my ankles brings me back to my senses. I am doing this for you, Cato - the girl on fire gives you your pity. I curl my stiff fingers around the bowstring and slowly draw it back to under my chin - poised and ready to shoot. Until someone else does the honours for me.

One of the muttations comes bounding out of the Cornucopia. It has glossy black fur and large brown eyes. The number 11 is wound into its collar. Rue. Perhaps it is vengeance, or perhaps there is not enough brain left inside her to comprehend her actions, and she is just putting on a fresh show for the Gamemakers. Whatever it is, it is quick. In two easy strides she is standing over Cato, a terrible mixture of pain, power and blood-thirst in her dark eyes. Her ten centimetre claws cut through his remaining skin as though it is butter, and Cato's death is instantaneous.

"Is that it?" whispers Peeta.
The cannon fires in answer.
"Katniss, we've won," he says hollowly.

But I still can't take my eyes off the thing that used to be Rue that is still slicing apart what was once just a child. How can this have happened? This was a girl whom I sang to when she was dying, a girl who trusted me whole-heartedly. How could these people turn such an innocent soul into a ruthless and violent mutant? And why hadn't they announced our victory yet? My question is answered when Claudius Templesmith's voice booms throughout the arena.

"Greetings to the final contestants of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games. The earlier revision has been revoked. Closer examination of the rule book has disclosed that only one winner may be allowed. Good luck, and may the odds ever be in your favour!"

There's a small burst of static, then nothing. I stare at Peeta in disbelief as the truth starts to sink in. It was never intended for both of us to live. This whole charade has been devised by the Gamemakers to guarantee the most dramatic Games in history. And foolishly, we bought it.

I turn away from Peeta's gaze and look back down at Rue and the remains of Cato. Suddenly, the disturbingly human eyes of the Rue muttation meet mine, and in a terrified instant I jump back, not wanting to be seen again by the beast that was once my ally.

"Peeta get back!" I nearly scream it at him.

We both scramble back from the edge of the Cornucopia, but it is too late, the muttation has already seen us.

I reach for my arrow, but my hand grasps at thin air as I realise it is still at the lip of the horn. I make a move to retrieve it but Peeta grabs my waist and holds me back.

"No," he says. "You deserve to live." And with that he pulls my face towards his and kisses me, and before I can control them there are hot tears running down my cheeks.

With his gashed and bleeding leg, Peeta makes a lunge towards my last arrow, and half hangs over the golden horn. The claws of the muttation appear over the edge of the Cornucopia, and make swiping actions at him. One of the claws catches Peeta's face, and leaves a gaping red hole in his cheek, his teeth visible through the wound. He screams in agony as his hand clenches my arrow. The tears are coming fast now, stinging the cuts on my face. Somehow, incredibly, Peeta summons the strength to throw the arrow back to me. I reach up in the air; I have to jump for it. I catch it. I land not thirty centimetres from Peeta. My right foot just moves forward ever so slightly and hits him, square in the stomach. I drop my arrow and bow and grab Peeta's hand just as he slips over the edge.

"No!" I scream. This is too much to bear. The muttation's hot breath is blowing in our faces. Rue's breath. I look into Peeta's eyes, and they are full not only horrific pain but also a strong sadness, so strong it makes you want to reach in and drag it from them.

"Katniss, let me go," he splutters in between mouthfuls of his own blood.
"No, no, Peeta, no!" I sob. "Peeta I love you. I love you. Pure, honest, real. Not fake, Peeta. I love you."

But his hand and mine are becoming slick with blood, and it is becoming harder to hold on.

He fell.

"Katniss, I love you," are the last words he mutters before Rue finally claims him. Rue, my ally. I'd compared her to my little sister. I cannot kill her. Killing her would be killing Prim. But no, this is not Rue. This is some hideous version of her, programmed to brutally kill anything that moves. So with my blood-coated hands, I ready my bow, and aim right at her temple. The arrow flies with graceful precision straight into its target. She yelps in pain before collapsing to the ground in a broken and angry heap.

I swing myself down from the Cornucopia and race over to Peeta. Everything is blurring. I can vaguely hear someone screaming, and I register it is probably me. I cradle his pale and limp body in my arms, telling him I am sorry, over and over again. I buckle over on to him in a hysterical heap, soaking myself in my tears and his blood. The cannon sounds. Peeta is gone.