The Fourth Olympics

C A S P E R

N U M B E R  O F  V I C T O R S:
S I X

Fen pinned me agaisnt a tree, holding the dagger to my throat. "Kill him Casper, kill him," he demanded.

I glared at him defensively, baring my teeth. I kneed him in the stomach and he fell back, withdrawing the dagger with him. "Fuck no. And if you lay a finger on him, I will rip you apart."

"I'd like to see you try."

I tackled him, pinning him to the ground. I ripped the knife from his grasp and stabbed him in the arm.  He grit his teeth, but made no sound. I yanked the dagger out, causing him to give the slightest whimper. "You will stay away from him, or I swear, you're never going to see the light of tomorrow. You hear me?" I barked.

"B-Back..sta- ...stab....stabber..." he croaked. He relaxed under me and released a moan of discomfort.

"Answer the damn question Fen!"

"....I won't..." I crawled off him, and kicked him in the stomach. He fell into a coughing fit, clutching his stomach with his uninjured arm. I glared at him one last time before I retreated to the Cornucopia to find Parka.

A familiar blonde sat by the riverside, staring into the clear water where Draco drowned. It made my stomach clench every time I thought about it. Larise seemed to attached to Draco, why would she aid in his death? Then Sierra, she was crazy and all, but she's a fairly logical person, even if she doesn't always act like it. She wouldn't just decide to turn on us without a good reason.

I sat next to him, placing the dagger in my jacket pocket, knowing he hates the sight of blood.

"Hey Parka, how are you holding up?" I asked him softly.

His head swiveled to the side, and his blue eyes landed on me. "I'm fine... Where's Fen?"

I glanced towards the woods with a shrug, "We had a misunderstanding, he's going tribute hunting by himself now."

"Is he coming back?" He continued, showing no change in tone or emotion. Was this the same kid that quivered at Fen's name on Day Two? Why is he so curious now?

"Er, I don't know," I lied. His blue eyes flashed, and he looked away from me. "Something wrong?"

He shook his head in denial and continued staring at the surface of the river. I sighed, and picked up a stone, running it over with my fingers. Parka suddenly gasped, and I looked up.

"What? What's wrong?" I blurted frantically.

"Draco, he's not dead," he exclaimed.

"Wait... Repeat that," I muttered. "Draco can't be alive, how could he hold his breath that long?"

"He didn't." Parka stood up, his mood seemed to have improved. I watched him in confusion.

"What do you mean he didn't?" I replied.

"He faked his death idiot. When the canon went off, I still remember seeing bubbles. I thought those were Fen's, but they were still there until Fen dragged Draco out of the water. And the hovercraft came almost right after. It hadn't even struck nine yet, why would the hovercraft come so early?" He explained.

My eyes widened, "He's an escapee."

"Yeah."

I swallowed, astonished. "That's clever as hell, I wonder when he came up with it."

"I don't think he was the only one on, on it. Sierra was acting weird too. If she had no intention of killing him, why would she make it more difficult for him to swim ashore? To help him fake his death."