I do not own Hunger Games.

And here's me Stephen King-ing.

Descent into Madness


I love Katniss Everdeen.

Zzzaapp.

It hurt so bad. So terribly bad.

Everything was pain, his entire world was pain. All he knew was pain.

But he ground his teeth together in determination.

Determination to endure.

I love Katniss Everdeen.

Zzzaapp.

The pain, it was everywhere. Filling up every pore. Every cell. Every fiber of his weakened being.

He hadn't eaten for days. Hadn't drunk either.

They hadn't let him. Hadn't allowed him anything.

Just kept him locked up in an empty white room with blinding sunlights that never went off.

And deafening shotgun blasts and screeching caterwauling screams that randomly shattered the airless vacuum.

And split his assaulted eardrums in two.


Days, it had been days.

Hours?

Weeks?

Years?


I love Katniss Everdeen.

He knew what had happened.

Before the Quarter Quell, he had gone to Haymitch.

Made him swear to save her.

Save Katniss.

Because he knew Katniss would try to make Haymitch save him.

Not because she loved him.

No. Not really.

But because she simply would sacrifice herself first.

Save him.

And die.

Even though she was more important.

So he made Haymitch promise to save her.

And so Haymitch, and the rest of them, had.

But Peeta hadn't died.

No, that would have been too easy.

Instead, he had been captured.

And now he was here.

The Capitol.

And now that they had him, they weren't going to just kill him.

Again, too easy.

They were going torture him, break him.

Ruin him.

And use him to destroy Katniss Everdeen, the Mockingjay.

If he let them.

But he couldn't.

He wouldn't.

He had to protect Katniss.

He had to outlast them.

Until he died.

Because no one was coming to rescue him.

Because he wasn't important.

Only her.

Only Katniss.


I love Katniss-

Zzzaapp.

"It can all end, Mr. Mellark."

A hissing voice, a waft of roses tinged with the metallic ribbon of blood.

"It doesn't have to be like this."

Zzzaapp.

"We don't want to hurt you."

Zzzaapp.

"Agree to listen."

Zzzaapp.

"Agree to talk."

Zzzaapp.

"Agree to try."

Zzzapp.

"And all this will go away. You will be given food, water, and a bed to sleep in."

Zzzaapp.

"All you have to do . . ."

Zzzaapp.

". . . is listen."

No.

No.

I love Katniss Everdeen.

And suddenly there she was.

Everywhere.

All around him.

Filling the room.

Multiple hers.

Her beautiful, strong face twisted in rage.

Screaming, swearing, growling.

Running at him.

Knife raised, razor-sharp.

The edges of her were fuzzy, like something was wrong with what he was seeing.

Katniss as he had never seen her.

It was almost laughable in its ridiculousness.

Until fear coursed through his veins.

His Tracker Jacker venom leaden veins.

"She never really cared for you, Peeta," the unseen voice softly intoned. "She was only waiting on her moment. And then she would betray you. Kill you."

His trembling body was pierced with a thousand searing knives.

And he screamed in agony. He couldn't help it.

He screamed and screamed and screamed.

Then he bled to death and died.

To the sound of Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire, the Mockingjay.

Laughing.


And regained consciousness some undefinable time later.

Not a mark on his body.

Not a scratch. Not a bruise.

And not a drop of water in his parched mouth or a morsel of food in the yawning abyss of his stomach cavity.

I love . . . I love . . .

I love Katniss Ever-

"Mr. Mellark," the disembodied voice surreshed. "Mr. Mellark, you were too late. I'm sorry."

And his waking vision was filled with blood.

Bread and blood.

In his parents' bakery shop.

Dead. Dead.

His family was dead.

Shredded and cut up and mutilated.

And baked right into the bread.

"I'm sorry, Peeta. If you had only been awake, you might have stopped her."

Katniss.

White frilly apron tied around her slender waist, joyfully slicing a loaf of body bread.

Raising it to her mouth with a vicious smile.

And savoring the gruesome yeasty delight.

As the Tracker Jacker venom raced its fire through his screaming blood and jagged nervous system.

"She laughed as she cut them up, Mr. Mellark. She laughed and she promised to do the same to you."

No.

No.

Not true.

Crazy.

That's not Katniss.

And that weird fuzz around her.

I . . .

I love . . .

I love Katniss-

Zzzaapp.


"Such a wicked girl. She's used you this entire time, Mr. Mellark."

Katniss.

Katniss was kissing him.

Kissing him with those soft, luscious lips of hers.

Kissing him like she had on that beach.

On that beach in that way that let him imagine, just for a moment, that it was just the two of them.

Just him and her.

And not him and her and ghost Gale.

And her hands, rough and soft at the same time, were moving all over his body in ways he knew she never had.

It wasn't real.

She wasn't real.

He knew that.

But he was weakened, will diminished.

And she felt so real.

And he was groaning in pleasure.

And then screaming in pain as she slit him from stem to stern slowly, cruelly.

Wretching her lips off his and jamming mud and muck and filth into his open mouth.

As she laughed and laughed and laughed.

Rose from his twitching, mangled body.

Took Gale's big, strong arm.

And traipsed away into the melting sunset.

As Peeta Mellark bled out alone and died.


I love-

I love-

I-

Zzzaapp.

He was thirsty.

So thirsty.

Even beyond his famished hunger.

He'd even been so desperate he'd tried to drink his own urine, what little there was left.

But Katniss'd found out.

And put a clamp on it.

And he'd screamed in pain.

And begged her to take it off.

As her hideous face twisted into raucous laughter.

And Peeta'd sobbed like a baby when she took it off.

And humbly thanked her.


I-

I-

I-

Zzzaapp.

So thirsty he tried to cut his wrist and drink his own blood.

Until she stole his clothes.

And turned the room into a deep freeze deathbox.

Until his spilled blood crystalized on the floor.

And he was so cold he begged for death.

And they wouldn't give it to him.

And Katniss Everdeen laughed and laughed.


Katniss-

Zzzaapp.

Everdeen.

Zzzaapp.

I . . .

Zzzaapp.

I . . .

Zzzaapp.

I hate Katniss Everdeen.


"He is ready."


Bile-black this, I know.

Sorry.

But what else would turn warm, gentle Peeta Mellark into a brutal husk of a man hellbent on killing the one person he loved most in all the world?

Anyway, everybody appreciates feedback. Leave a review if you like.