Author's Note~ Hello and welcome to my newest Fan Fic. This time based in the incredible universe of The Hunger Games. Now this story takes place midway through Mockingjay and continues till the end of the war between the Capitol and the 13 Districts, however this is an AU for a reason and we see Peeta not Hijacked by mutated Tracker Jacker venom, but a sick a game our favorite sociopath President Snow plays on the star-crossed lovers of District 12. He intends to finish the 74th Hunger Games and ensures that one must kill the other to survive. This story contains spoilers for the entire series so if you haven't read all three books then proceed to your local book store and procure them for your reading pleasure. This story starts at pg 152 in the first edition of Mockingjay in North America, or chapter 11.
This story is rated Teen for violence and mentions of blood.
Disclaimer~ I do not own the Hunger Games, they belong to Suzanne Collins, Scholastic and Lionsgate.
Please enjoy and drop me a review ^^
# # #
My feet slapped against the damp forest floor as I ran for my life. My chest heaved but I knew I couldn't stop moving. There were faces taunting me in the darkness, the marred face of Cato, Glimmer's emerald eyes staring out of the face of one of the Capitol's muttations, the shriveled face of Mags struggling for air as the poison engulfed her. I tried to shut my eyes but they remained open not even giving me a second of sweet darkness.
Suddenly the trees cleared and I was standing by the cornucopia. I raised my bow but as I reached for an arrow I found my quiver was empty.
"Looking for this?"
I whirled around and was relieved to see Peeta step out of the cornucopia, holding out a single wooden arrow to me.
"Peeta!" I cried in joy, he was alright and safe from the capitol's clutches. I took a step forward but a sudden pain in my hand made me look at my bow. It was covered in thorns and was winding into long vines which quickly entrapped me. I tried to struggle but was soon encased by the wicked thorns. I saw as the vines produced dozens of buds which bloomed into perfect white roses. The sickeningly sweet smell gagged me.
"Peeta help!" I cried as I struggled in my bindings, hardly feeling the stabs of the thorns.
"I can't do that Katniss," he said quietly.
"Peeta what-" but I couldn't finish as I finally saw his face. It was pale as a corpse and his eyes were closed but what froze me wasn't that, it was his smile. The warm comforting smile I was so familiar with was twisted into a dark sneer. His dark smiled widened and he pointed down. I nearly retched when I saw we were standing on a pile of bodies.
"You see Katniss, we're the only ones left, all the others are dead," he said coldly.
There were so many faces, too many faces I knew, Finnick, Thresh, Rue, Wiress, a young girl I instinctively knew was Maysilee Donner and countless others with different clothing styles from an era long gone. I realized we were standing upon seventy five years worth of tributes.
"You see the price of maintaining the panem et circenses?" Peeta shouted madly, but I heard another voice mixed in. A chilling voice that could only belong to President Snow.
"Let Peeta go!" I shouted in desperation, tears coming unbidden to the corners of my eyes. "He doesn't deserve this!"
"You're right. He doesn't," And Peeta finally opened his eyes, but they were not their usual shade of blue but a seething red. "But you do, don't you rebellious little Mockingjay," he crooned he placed the lone arrow into my quiver. As the dull Thunk resounded, the bodies below turned into a massive flock of jet black Jabber Jays, spewing the final words of hundreds of children. As they flew upward I fell backward into the darkness.
"Let us see who kills the other my love," he shouted mockingly. "And may the odds be ever in your favor!"
# # #
I sat upright in my mattress, a sheen of sweat on my brow as the nightmare flashes continuously through my mind. I see the roof is much closer than usual and remember that we are down in District 13's bunker waiting out the capital's attack. I slowly raise myself and hug my knees, trying to hold myself together.
It had been only a few days since my talk with Prim but the words still echo as if she was speaking them now.
Whatever it takes to break you
It is only by glancing over at her sleeping in her bunk can I assure my mind she really wasn't speaking. I crawled over towards her and looked at her face. Despite being still and free from the nightmares that plagued me her face had dark shadows no thirteen year old should show. I reached to tuck a stray lock of her merchant colored hair but a hiss sounded.
I looked at the creature tucked into Prim's arms with disgust.
"You know cat, if we stay in this bunker much longer your eligible to become fresh meat, so don't get smart," I whispered.
The cat stopped its throaty growl but continued to glare. I ignored it. I reached for the small piece of rope Finnick had given me yesterday night and despite the blisters began to knot it once more. My hands almost unconsciously began to weave intricate knots I had learned from my multiple trips to the station before both of the hunger games and before I knew it I had found a simple pattern to cling to.
Twist, loop, tighten, pull apart
Twist, loop, tighten, pull apart
Twist, loop, tighten, pull apart
Over and over again I did just that. After a few hours I looked at the worn little rope and wondered if that was how I looked now after all the times I had been twisted, twisted by a sense of self preservation and need to protect my loved ones. Looped back into the same charade with both the Capitol and District 13. Tightened until I couldn't breathe, Pulled apart as I realized how little I could do.
I throw the rope across the bunker and ignore Buttercup's mad scramble to get it.
# # #
Hours later I'm swirling the last dregs of my coffee around the ceramic mug watching the sugar that had pooled upon the bottom whirlpool around the bottom.
"You made quick work of that," Finnick observed.
He too had been made up by the prep team but I can't say I blame them; he had dark bags under his eyes, still visible despite the pounds of make-up. Since they spent a longer amount of time on my face than usual, I guess mine weren't much better.
"I guess a few sleepless days in an underground bunker while under attack can do that to a person," I reply.
This actually brings a small smile to his face.
"We're nearly to the surface," Boggs called and I could see the trapdoor just up ahead. Our party consisted of the camera crew, Haymitch, Gale and Plutarch. I vaguely wondered how the insects would get their camera equipment through the tiny opening but realized I really didn't care.
They were taking us to the surface to shoot some more propos showing that District 13 and it's Mockingjay was alive and well, but as we walked through the autumn touched trees I realized I wasn't well. The coffee was making me jumpy and small noises like the snap of a twig or a cough from one of the cameramen set me further on edge.
Gale sent me a concerned look but said nothing.
As we entered the rubble of district 13's aboveground we had to maneuver our way around multiple craters to reach the old Justice Building where we planned on shooting the propo.
"Why the Justice Building?" I asked.
"My idea, since the Capitol has used it so effectively over the years I thought it might do the same for us," Plutarch explained proudly.
As the steps came into sight a sight of color met my eyes. My heart stopped and I raced forward heedless of the dangers merely wanting to confirm the sight with my own eyes.
"Peeta!" I screamed. The filming party scrambled to get their equipment working while Boggs and Gale readied their weapons in case there was an ambush calling for me to stop, but I hardly noticed.
I kneeled down beside Peeta's still body and saw his eyes were closed. His skin was far too pale but as I checked his pulse, I felt it reassuringly beating beneath my sweaty fingers.
"Peeta," I said softly. There didn't seem to be any injuries or scars but with the advanced medical equipment of the Capitol there was no telling what could have happened to him.
As I took a deep breath of relief I froze at the scent that engulfed me. Looking around I saw two dozen red and pink roses, their slightly wilted petals waving to me, carrying their foul scent. On Peeta's other side I gagged as I saw a perfect replica of the wedding dress the people of the Capitol had chosen before Cinna had altered it. I examined Peeta closer and saw he was in a fitted black wedding tuxedo, a crimson rose tucked in the pocket.
I stood slowly trying not to hyperventilate as I saw a single metal arrow atop my dress, there seemed to be words carved into the polished surface. I reached a trembling hand towards the arrow. It was made out of a polished metal but was surprisingly light despite its composition. I read the words engraved in it. As the words registered, I let the arrow slip through my fingers, where it rolled down the crumbled steps and felt faint, swaying slightly.
Strong hands gripped me and in my haze I looked fearfully to what I thought must be the monstrous President Snow. However it was Gale holding me to him. I clung to him trying to stop the shaking.
"It's alright Katniss, it's alright," he said soothingly.
"What kind of arrow is this," Plutarch said as he bent down but jerked backward with a yelp. I glanced to see his fingers had burnt.
"What did the arrow say Katniss?" Boggs asked. "Are we in danger here?"
I gulped as I tried to get the words out.
"It said 'Let the 74th Hunger Games conclude'" I whispered.
A loud gasp made me break away from Gale and I saw Peeta sit up.
"Katniss?" he called in a rough voice.
"Peeta-" but I froze for the eyes looking at me were not the eyes of the boy who had thrown a starving eleven year old girl slightly burnt bread during a rain storm, or had joined the careers to protect that same girl or had given her a pearl she still carried in her pocket.
The eyes were red and seething, staring at me with an intense look of desperation, fear and hunger. Razor sharp teeth were visible in his twisted smile and before any of the others had time to react Peeta had moved towards my throat, tearing it open and greedily gulping down my blood.
Author's note~ and there you have it, I know what word is running through your head but Peeta's condition is far worse than having to sleep in a coffin. Until next time!