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Title: The Two Victors
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games, but I do own Violet and Eli.
Warnings: So, I was debating whether or not to make this M, but after some discussion, I've decided to keep it T because the elements in it aren't TOO bad. There are elements of prostitution but the nasty is skipped over, and there's some strong language which has been censored out, because I always do that. So yeah, T rated it is. But, be warned that I was on the fence about it. There will also be drug use in other chapters (well... nicotine cigarettes...) so keep that in mind. To be honest, as far as stuff goes, this is probably the most risky chapter out of them all, the rest are definitely T rated. So, meh.
A/N: Hi everyone, so this is a little mini-fic that I'm doing- which is kind of a spin off to my verse of the hunger games, it's by no means canon, but not far from canon either, if you get me? Secluded Minds is the only other story in that verse so far, and this is set after that story. You don't, by any means, need to read that to read this. This follows two characters I've grown attached to, the first two victors of THG, Eli and Violet.
I'm planning a slow update speed for this, so they won't be weekly. This chapter took me forever to write, so, just a warning. With my life schedule at the moment, I can't do two weekly update things, eck, half the time I can't even do one ;D So, I usually keep a little timeline on my bio so if anyone's ever wondering when the next udate is, I say how far it's off from being updated and stuff, yup.
I put a heck of a lot of effort into this, so, if you could review and stuff, that would be great. Constructive criticism is amazing as well, so please, throw it at me ;D
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl,
Year after year.
(Ed Sheeran- Wish You Were Here)
Two Souls: Chapter One
Eli Yates
Eighteen Years Old
Victor of the Second Hunger Games
Tears threaten my eyes.
For the first time since I was child, I want to cry.
I have never felt so small, so dirty, so pitiful, so worthless.
I didn't think it possible for me to feel this way. I've been stabbed, I've been strangled, I've suffered from frost bite. You name the pain, and I've probably felt it, but this particular pain is leaps and bounds worse than any of those. At least I owned my own body in The Hunger Games. At least I had an ounce of dignity.
I was a human being.
Here I am a mere object of desire.
I watch as the woman- the imbecile- tiptoes over to the bathroom, her body barely covered by the small robe she has wrapped around herself. It's obvious she hasn't stopped to think about my feelings; the feelings of the teenager she just sh*gged, used, and ridiculed.
She doesn't care; why should she? I'm just some insignificant District scum, who killed a few kids on a TV show. I am here to please her and to follow her every command, and, what for? So my family can live in peace? So my younger brother can wake every morning without an arrow in his head? It's pathetic, but it's what my life has become.
My lovely pathetic life.
With every move I make, the desire to just lie here forever and let my punishment destroy me grows stronger, but I am stronger than that. It's why I won The Hunger Games. I am a fighter and I will learn to cope with anything the Capitol wants to throw my way.
I stand up the moment the bathroom door opens again. The idiot walks out, shaking her hips as she looks at me with them wild and bizarre eyes. I force myself to swallow down every obscene name I want to call her and every urge I have to wrap my hands around that puny neck of hers.
"You still look so worried...it's kind of sweet," she whispers.
I try to force an attractive smirk on my face, for her benefit, but it soon just turns into an ugly grimace. Just looking into her beady, silver, eyes makes me sick to my stomach. I hate this woman, there's no doubt about it. Then again, it seems as though I have grown to hate a lot of people as of late. I'm turning into Violet.
I can't look at her for more than a few seconds so I divert my eyes to the rest of the room. I've probably observed every inch of this room in the past hour. I probably know it better than she does. Still, it's much more appealing than her plastic face. The furniture is about the same as every other Capitol house, covered with diamonds, animal skins, and some other sparkly thing. This woman has clearly decorated to impress, but it's not the furniture that impresses me, it's the walls. They have been replaced by a large fish tank which must carry over a million fish, all aimlessly swimming around the four corners of this living room. It's very peculiar.
Just as her desperate hand reaches for my chest once more, my alarm goes off in a loud and infuriating beeping tone. I sigh in relief and walk away from her, pushing her hand away from my chest. I have never been so grateful to hear that bothersome noise. She has had her hour of fun. She no longer owns me.
"Oh, baby, but we were having so much fun," she whines, as she struts over to me.
I roll my eyes and shake my head. "You were- clearly."
The shock which appears on her face is quite amusing, actually, but I'm not in the mood to laugh. She is now seeing the real Eli Yates, not the Eli Yates the Capitol told me to be. Sure, it could get me into a lot trouble, but, at the end of the day, I have kept my side of the bargain. I no longer have to be a gentleman towards a woman who does not care about my dignity.
I sigh as I pull my shirt over my head. "You have had your hour, now I have to go and catch my train. If you want me again, you're going to have to book me again." I cringe as I say that. It's almost as if I'm a rental car, available weekly to anyone who books in advance. How is it that even I have come to dehumanise myself? And this woman is only my first customer. I'm afraid I may end up dehumanising myself further in the future. I will probably end up seeing myself as a mere grain of rice at this rate.
"Well then..." Her body seems to ripple towards me, her chest trying too hard to indulge me into her desires, but instead it causes a nauseated feeling to run over my body. Never before have I felt so uncomfortable with a woman being so close to me. I once desired it. I still do, but not like this. "Expect a call in the next few weeks."
"I can hardly wait," I mutter. My voice is roofed with sarcasm, but an idiot such as this woman would never be able to pick up on that, and that is shown with the achieving smile which appears on her lips. I find it rather astonishing that this woman believes I actually like her. Though it's hard to tell through all the plastic surgery, she's probably old enough to be my mother. I've never been too picky with my women, but the woman standing in front of me isn't exactly the woman of my dreams.
I purse my lips as I look up at the fish tank walls once more. A question sits at the end of my tongue, begging to be asked. I know I shouldn't but, sometimes, my curiosity simply can't be helped. "How do you keep them fed?"
The woman giggles softly as her claw-like nails run up and down the muscles of my arm. "I have a fish servant who comes in once a week and refills the feeding chambers. I don't really know how it works, but it does."
"And when they die?"
"Again, fish servant," she sings.
I nod my head slowly. Apparently, up here in the land of glitter and glam, they have servants for absolutely everything; even fish. Go figure.
All of a sudden, a car pulls up into the drive. The blue car sparkles with the crystals and diamonds which cover its clean surface.
"Sh*t," the woman mutters as she starts to back away from me. "He wasn't supposed to get back for another few hours."
I almost roll my eyes. Of course, she's married. I almost should have seen that one coming.
It only adds to humiliation of this entire experience. I couldn't have simply left with my head forcibly held high whilst my body cried in pity. It just had to be more complicated than that.
Her cool hands wrap themselves around my arm and she begins to drag me towards the bathroom. Her face is a mad fluster, sweat falling down her forehead as her eyes dart around like crazy bees.
"What the-?"
My head whips around the moment his voice enters the room. A bewildered man stands at the door, his foot only half inside the house. The cool night air rushes in behind him, making the hairs on my arms stand on end. There's an awkward moment of silence as the beer-bellied man studies the two of us, his eyes flickering from the horror-stricken face of his wife, to mine, to hers again. My heart beats hard against my chest, as I nervously shift my weight from one foot to another. This wasn't part of my contract. I wasn't told how to deal with this situation. What am I supposed to do?
The woman pushes me aside and begins her predictable weeping of lies. She runs over to her husband as she begs him for his understanding. I can't help but feel some form of guilt towards this man, even if I had no other choice in the matter.
I have every right to sneak out the back and leave them to it, but something about the way his eyes twitch as he stares at me, tells me that would be a bad decision.
I stand there nervously, itching the back of my neck as she throws out the usual excuses at him, 'it's not what it looks like,' 'he's just leaving,' 'he was lost and I was helping him'.
Unfortunately for me, the man's not as stupid as he looks. He is clearly not buying a word that leaves her mouth. Instead of listening to his wife, he continues to stare at me, his face growing red with anger, as he works it all out for himself. He knows what has happened. He knows who I am. And all I can say to that is: Sh*t.
"I want to hear it from you, kid," the man says as he strides over to me. It's only as he comes closer to me do I see his size, he may have a waistline four times the size of mine, but he's a midget, barley taller than five foot. He's not going to fight my 6"4 self. Hopefully.
"You're whore of a wife bought me. I'm just here to do my duties," I spit through my teeth. I don't even care what I say anymore. I just want to go home, back to my stupid life.
Before I even know what's happening, my back smashes into the fish tank behind me. Somehow, it does not break. I fall to the ground, winded.
Sh*t, he's stronger than he looks.
Once upon a time, I would have smirked at this fight. I would have stood back up, stronger than before, but not now, I lamely rise to my feet and loosely ball my hands into fists. He may have caught me off guard, but I can beat him in a heartbeat. I know that, but it doesn't mean I want to.
Any fighting spirit I once had has long gone. It ended with The Hunger Games. I now fight differently. I fight emotionally. I fight so I don't lose my mind. I fight so I don't kill myself.
I don't fight other people.
"Let me go," I whisper. "Please."
"Marshall, listen to him, he's the victor of The Hunger Games. He could kill you," the woman pleads.
"He's also just a kid," the man muttered. "He won't harm me."
His fist soon meets my stomach, causing my body to arch forward as I splutter in pain. Despite myself, I try to fight back at first, my fist meeting his nose in a crack, but that's as far as it goes. I really can't fight anymore. Too many memories flash before my eyes as the blood trickles down from his nose. I have seen too much blood in my short life. I have caused too much bloodshed. I have killed too many people.
No more.
The woman was right, I could kill this man, but I won't. I won't even take the chance.
He punches again, and again, and again. I don't punch back. I don't even try to stop him. Go on old man, do your worse, I probably deserve it. I'm an ar*ehole. I'm a murderer. I'm everything an eighteen year old shouldn't be.
All in all, I'm just a grain of rice.
As the world slowly begins to darken, I realise something I should have realised a long time ago, before I turned her away: I need her.
A/N- Yes, I always put an A/N at the bottom as well, no matter what. Shh. Anyway, I don't know what else to say?
I still haven't figured out next chapter yet, it will either focus on Eli again or it will introduce Violet. So far I'm finding Eli's voice easier to write so I will work on it and we shall see ;D
Um, yes, please do review, they're what keeps me motivated to write in the long run, so, yeah. tehe.
Till next time, bye! x
