Shark Plushy (Enobaria X F.OC)

-Sprint To The Finish Line-

Bera sat on the ledge of a building.

She was more than sure this arena was some disregarded quell arena. There was no chance it wasn't.

She is in the 66th; she is 15, and the quell happened one year before she was born.

Having a peacekeeper as family let her know so much more about the inner workings of this fuckfest than standard tributes... She knew the Capitol voted on several arenas that year and would happily let herself die if necessary to prove she was correct.

She was cold but didn't really feel it, even with the heavy storm pelting her. All she could concentrate on was the pain in her arm.

She did her best, and she couldn't bleed out with a tight bandage.

But just how long can this still go on?

How long can she go on?

How many can she still kill?

She sighed, hair sticking to her face despite the raging winds, soaked through and threw.

It was a long while before she moved, standing.

She had her bag with her, having used the rope to tie her knives to her waist, holding the trident in her arms. It is just a three-pronged spear.

She needed to go. She couldn't stay around them.

She left the building without her hoodie. She couldn't bear taking it back as she used it to cover James' face to not look at it any longer, and grabbing it would require her to do so.

She stood outside in the flooding streets, the water in the middle, mid-calf on the sidewalks now.

Bera silently watched the hovercraft come out of camo mode and lower down, finally collecting the bodies with its mechanical arm worming its way into the room through the broken window.

She squeezed on the trident, making her arm hurt even more, injury seriously impacting its strength output.

Watching the hovercraft leave left a bitter taste in her mouth, and she needed to check if she hadn't bitten a hole in the inside of her mouth.

A loud crackle went through the sky, illuminating it all.

She needed to move. If lightning strikes the water, she'll be done.

But she also needed to find a good enough place to hide in. The water will keep going up, and if she chooses one of the tiny houses around here, she'll be don--Thunder roared not a second too soon. She covered her face as it hit the building with such force that it blasted it to pieces.

She blinked, seeing the hole blasted in the wall behind her, the concrete itself burning with angry fire.

She watched it in awe before another blast of lightning hit down.

She turned tail and ran, almost as if she was being targeted.

However, that did tell her only a few tributes must remain, and the gamemakers want them to get near each other.

She covered her head, hoping none of her weapons would draw the strikes to them.

It was another dead sprint, shielding herself with that one arm as she just hopped for respite from this weather.

The water was also flowing harder, trying to sweep her legs from beneath her and drag her down into their murky depths.

She could not tell if it was canon shots or lightning strikes she was hearing but was sure this was the final stretch of these games.