Hi this is bluramel! This is the first fanfiction that I had ever submitted. And forgive me for any mistakes made... I have quite bad grammar to say the truth. This piece is not beta-ed... Having said that, I still hope that you would enjoy this story!

The last light

A boy with blonde hair woke up from what seemed to be a deep slumber. His blue eyes were foggy and unfocused. His head hurt and couldn't seem to recall anything that could have lead to his presence here. As he tries to sit up, he realized that he is strapped to what seem like a surgical bed. A sense of panic grabbed his attention. Confused at his predicament, he took a look around him. There was nothing in the cell that could jolt his memories.

His cell was just one amongst the many cells on that level. Each of the cells holds a different prisoner, each in varying degrees of torture. Open and festering wounds were a common sight and bodies covered with a multitude of bruises and wounds were often to be found chained up on the cold grey walls of the cells.

However, there was something different about this particular cell. Apart from magnificent bruises blossoming throughout his body, there were no other signs of torture. No sign of being whipped, electrocuted, cut or any other forms of torture displayed on the other fellow captives. To make matters even more bizarre to this boy, his cell was typical of one of the hospital wards, something that he is familiar with after spending much of his time in one after the games.

The games… the quarter quells. The games were something that he does not want to remember. Just the mention of it, flashbacks of burning trees, acidic white fog, painful wounds, screaming jabberjays, people filled with killing intent, flashes of metal, the feeling of metal on skin, the smell of panic and other terrible things.

Suddenly he jolted a certain memory. Smoke filled the air. It was chocking but something else was on his mind. Someone important that seems to elude him right now. Someone that he needed to find, to protect. His memories flickered and flashed in his mind. A girl. Bows and arrows. That was what he was concerned to find, a brown haired girl. A… Before he could get to an answer, the machinery around him hummed into live. A vial of clear liquid was loaded into a syringe and was injected into him. Just before he passed out, there was one thing clear in his mind. Katniss, that was the name of the girl he was searching for. And the last memory of him in the room was of him screaming her name.

The next thing he knew he was awake in a place that he could not recognize. The only sensation that registered in his mind was that of floating. It was as if the world had lost its gravity and there was nothing to ground him anymore. He was aimlessly wandering around in this land that he was not familiar with. Suddenly, he was aware of images that flashed past him. Images were of him in all sorts of situations that he vaguely recognized as his memories. However, they were oddly foreign and took on a shimmery feeling.

As his floated past a certain memory of nights spent in a cave with a certain girl, he felt himself get sucked back into time. Sensations flooded his senses. The humid and musky air choked his throat. He recalled that girl feeding him soup that made him drowsy. He could not remember why, only the memory of panicky unease hung fresh in his mind.

The scene shifted and changed into one at school. The same girl with her hair in two braids was singing. Her voice was like that of an angel. He could not tear his eyes away. That was when he learnt her name, Katniss. The memories yet shifted to another of his home, the bakery. Katniss bringing game to sell to his parent. It was more than once; she appeared at his doorstep with game to sell. That was when he grew to associate a bow and arrow with her. If bread was his parents' life, then it was not wrong to say that Katniss's life was hunting.

His thoughts then fast forward to the first hunger games that he attended. He vaguely recalled that he was chosen during the reaping together with Katniss, what really took root in his mind was the fear. A fear of what, he was not sure. However many memories of hostile faces of the same girl accompanied that feeling. The unease was raging and fear penetrated every single pore of his body. His surrounding suddenly glimmered and the sound of something cracking rang out. For a moment, the world fell silent. And the next, the silence exploded into a crazed frenzy. The fear doubled. Screams and buzzing filled his ears. His surroundings were in such shimmery chaos, he had lost all sense of direction and rationality. However there was one thing that he was certain of, that was a glimpse of a certain familiar face up in the trees with a wide grin. Her eyes haunted him. It was the eyes of a hunter, looking for a kill.

Irrational panic threatened to drown him alive. Struggling to find something that he could hold onto, he looked down to his hands only to find them blood stained. It took him a while to realize that the blood was his and that his thigh was injured. His vision began to flicker and fizz out. He thought that a sword had cut him. However, the arrow that stuck out of his thigh was unmistakable. His heart raced and rang in his ear. There was only one person that he could link this arrow to and that was… Katniss.

All of a sudden, his wound started to hurt. The pain was so sharp; he was jolted back to what he remembered as his cell. Aware of the pain exactly where he remembered his wound was he looked down to find that somehow he managed to embed a scalpel in his thigh. It was the pain that brought him back to the reality. At this moment, he was clear-minded enough to realize that what he just saw was not real. He realized and remembered that he was captured. And finally, his mind managed to conclude that he was going to be brainwash as he recalled how previously his memories pieced together in a strange way.

"Katniss… it is not real. She would never hurt me." He murmured to himself as if trying to assure himself that it is not true. Blood began to pool on the surgical bed and he was slowly losing his conscious. His mind was gradually felt increasing hard to grasp onto. He knew that if he was to let himself slip again, there might be no way for him to free himself again. As he continued to find himself slipping, he desperately tried to conjure up an image that reminded him of who he was and what he has to do. Automatically, Katniss's serene sleeping face appeared in his mind's eye. A sense of calm washed over him. There was an overwhelming peacefulness that he was sure nothing could break and he slid into an untroubled dream with the memory of Katniss.

"I think he needs just another dose. That is all he need to push his mind over the edge. The results that he produced is something that we could not have replicated! It is amazing research material!"

"Here goes the last jab and victory is ours."

This was what he thought he heard before the panic sets in once again. Knowing what is to come, he tried to look back to the memory he conjured up. To his horror, the image of Katniss grew blurred. Her face grew hairy and elongated into a snout. Her eyes snapped open. It was the same colour however it brimmed with feral bloodlust. Her mouth snarled open with a growl. He lost all control and began to scream.

Back in the cell, the blonde boy lay still. Tears streaked down his face as he gave a final whisper.

"Ka…Katniss… I'm s..so… sorry."

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