Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.
Warning: This story is dark. Really dark. Like Shakespearian tragedy dark. There's character death, self-sacrifice, people being awful to each other, etc. What there isn't is any kind of romance or sex. The rating is purely because of the horror and gore elements. AKA if you thought the hijacking of Peeta was bad - this is worse. If you're looking for smut, or anything even remotely light, hit the back button now.
Otherwise, I don't want to hear about how I didn't warn you.
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Came Back Wrong
By FanficAllergy
-Z-
1. The Rescue
-Z-
They've gone to rescue Peeta!
I can hardly contain myself as I pace the floor of the control room. They wanted me to do a propo to broadcast while the team rescues Peeta and the others. But I couldn't concentrate, staring off into the distance, snapping at Cressida and Plutarch, being even more useless than normal. Peeta. Peeta. Peeta. My heart beats a steady tattoo of his name. Over and over all I can think of is Peeta.
"The targets have been acquired from the holding facility," a nameless technician states in a monotone. "Commencing extraction."
"He'll be home soon," Finnick whispers in my ear, his eyes fixed on the screen showing the moving dots of the extraction team.
"Do you think Annie's with them?" I ask.
"I hope so." His tone is so wistful.
I squeeze his hand. I know what he's feeling. The anxiety. The hope. We both lost someone to the Capitol and now we're about to get them back.
"Rescue flight is two hours out," the technician says. "There's been some casualties. Medical, prepare to stand by for emergency response."
Casualties! The word lances through my heart like an arrow. Not Peeta. Please not Peeta.
Finnick's hand clutches mine, indicating he's as concerned about Annie as I am about Peeta.
"You should go," Plutarch Heavesbee says from behind us. "There's nothing you can do here." The fact that we're in the way and not wanted is implied.
"I'm going to the surface," I announce, daring anyone to challenge me.
"And I'm going with her," Finnick declares.
We get a few odd looks, but no one objects. Good. They've learned.
Finnick and I grab our weapons and hunting jackets and head to the surface. The air in District Thirteen is stale and recycled so whenever I reach the surface, I take several minutes to breathe in the fresh crisp air full of pine and leaves and life. I'm too keyed up to hunt, but I go through the motions anyway. Finnick follows. He's not as loud as Peeta or as quiet as Gale but his experience in the Games shows. He's a hunter, like me.
We spend the next two hours out in the woods of Thirteen until we hear the sound of the approaching hovercrafts. Abandoning all pretense of stealth, Finnick and I race back to the entrance of Thirteen and our returning loved ones. We shove our weapons into the hands of a waiting sentry and don't bother to slow down.
Peeta!
Peeta's here!
We run through the twists and turns of the concrete maze that is District Thirteen toward the hangar bay. Finnick and I want to be the first to greet our loved ones and, even more, I need to tell Peeta just how much he means to me.
As we round the corner to the hangar, Finnick and I are drawn up short by Haymitch standing in front of the doors with his arms crossed. "This is as far as you go," he says.
"Get out of my way!" I order my mentor.
"No."
"Haymitch, I've known and respected you for years. But if you don't move right now, I'm going to punch you where you stand." Finnick's voice is low and carefully measured and utterly devoid of any of his usual charm.
Still, the older man refuses to back down. "Doesn't matter. You're still not gonna go in there. Not 'til we get the all clear from the medics."
"What happened?"
"They ain't sure yet. The reports are pretty garbled. Everyone got out okay but something's not right. The three of them, Johanna, Peeta, and Annie, they're different. Wrong."
My heart sinks. "Wrong how?"
"Ain't rightly sure. That's what the medical check is for. All I know is that girl of yours, Finnick, she put up one hell of a fight."
Beside me, Finnick slumps. Normally I'd try to comfort him, but I have only one thought on my mind. "What about Peeta?"
Haymitch shakes his head. "I don't know. Coin's keeping the particulars close to the vest. Shooed non-essential personnel out of the control room when the reports started to come in."
"When can we see them?" Finnick asks. His eyes are intent and I can see that he's poised to try to take down Haymitch if he doesn't get an answer he likes.
I feel much the same way.
"Why don't we head down to Medical and ask?" Haymitch suggests.
My eyes narrow. I could dart around Haymitch to try to get through the door. I'm quick and he's still recovering from the effects of not having a drink for months. But there's something in his tone and face that makes me believe I'm better off not trying. "Fine," I say after a moment.
"Good, let's go."
-Z-
There's chaos in Medical when we get there. Doctors, nurses, and technicians are running to and fro shouting contradictory orders at each other.
"What's happening?!" I shout at one of the white coated doctors as he runs by.
He ignores me.
Finnick reaches out and snags a technician and repeats the question.
"We don't know," the man answers, his eyes darting about frantically. "The Capitol did something."
"What?!" Finnick demands, shaking the man. "What'd the Capitol do? Tell me!"
"I don't know! Let me go! I've got to get these samples to the lab!" The man holds up two vials of dark red liquid.
"Is that blood?" I ask in disbelief. Fresh blood is brighter, redder, than that.
The technician nods in Finnick's grasp. "Yes. That's why you need to let me go. We have to know what's wrong so we can fix it!"
Finnick releases the man, who immediately scurries off. "So now what?"
"Now you two kids get out of the way," Haymitch tells us.
"Not until I see Peeta," I say stubbornly.
Haymitch sighs. "And I suppose you aren't going anywhere until you see Annie?" he asks, looking at Finnick.
"You know it," Finnick states.
"Well that's just peachy." He scrubs one hand over his face and I can see just how exhausted my mentor is. "You know, you're both stubborn as mules."
"Takes one to know one," I shoot back. It's a juvenile taunt and I know it, but all I want is see Peeta. I need to see him. I need to know he's okay.
"Fine! But stay on this side of the glass. You heard that tech; the Capitol did something to them."
I nod, already intent on finding Peeta. The first room I look into holds Johanna. Two doctors are struggling to hold her down while a nurse approaches her with a syringe. The victor from Seven flails and kicks wildly. Her hair is shorn and her skin pale. But it's her eyes that root me to the floor. I'd expected them to be snapping and wild. But they're not. They're glazed over. Vacant. Empty. The sarcastic woman who taunted the Capitol is gone.
I shiver.
I turn and move toward another of the rooms. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Finnick being held back from entering an exam room by two men in uniform. He must have found Annie.
I watch Finnick struggle and fight until Haymitch comes over to help talk him down. Part of me is curious about just what Finnick saw. But a much more insistent part tells me I need to find Peeta.
The next room holds two of the extraction team. One has what looks like a bullet wound in his upper arm while the other man's face is scratched almost beyond recognition. Almost. The olive skin and black hair give away the man's identity. It's Gale.
"What happened to him?" I ask one of the doctors observing at the window.
"He tried to keep Mellark from attacking one of our orderlies, a girl of about fourteen. Got bitten and scratched for his trouble." The man is dispassionate.
The only person that Gale would protect so vehemently is Prim. I look around for my sister and find her huddled in a chair, her knees drawn up to her chest. She seems to be okay, just scared. I want to go to her but I still need to find Peeta. Prim can wait. I must locate Peeta.
And I do. I peer into the next room and I see him. He's pacing the room listlessly as if searching for a way out but not finding one. He's pale, like he hasn't seen the sun in months, and I can make out the dark labyrinth of veins under his skin. He appears uninjured but there's something about the way he's moving that makes me concerned. It's stilted. Uneven. I wonder if his leg is bothering him and if he needs help adjusting the prosthetic. Without thinking, I open the door and step inside to help him do just that.
It's a mistake.
The lethargy that Peeta displayed moments before falls away and he lunges at me.
I dodge instinctively but he follows my movement.
His hands are outstretched and curled into claws like an animal. He lunges again.
I dive to my left, further into the room, and try to get the bed between him and me.
It doesn't work.
Peeta grabs hold of me and I get my first real look at his face. His mouth is open and gaping but his eyes are dead. There's no emotion or feeling in them. They aren't even focused on me. He leans down to try to bite at my neck but I manage to deflect his attempt to my shoulder. I feel his teeth sink in and I'm grateful I'm still wearing my jacket from outside. The thick fabric lessens the blow, but I know I'm going to be bruised from the attempt.
"Help!" I cry out, struggling in Peeta's grasp. I kick out with my feet and that's probably what saves me.
My foot connects with his prosthetic and he goes down.
Seizing the moment, I run. The second I'm through the door, I slam it shut and look for a way to lock it.
There isn't one.
I glance through the window and see Peeta on the floor, his prosthetic half hanging off of his leg, his hands reaching out as he tries to crawl after me. He isn't moving far or fast, but he is moving.
Unable to look anymore, I slide to the ground, pulling my knees to my chest. What's happened to him? What has the Capitol done to him? To all of them?
A doctor and nurse come over to me. "Did you go inside?" the doctor, a woman with an ashy pallor, asks me.
I nod.
"What'd he do?" the nurse asks.
"He attacked me," I say woodenly. I'm in shock. I can't believe that Peeta attacked me.
The two share a glance. "Did he bite you?" The nurse's tone is high pitched, like he's on the verge of a breakdown.
I nod again and see a look of pure horror spread across both of their faces.
"Where?" the woman asks.
I point to my shoulder.
The doctor crouches down to inspect it. Some of the horror fades when she realizes that Peeta's bite hadn't broken my skin, but she's still clearly concerned. "Anything else? Scratches?"
I shake my head. Other than the bruises I got in the struggle I'm unhurt.
Except that's a lie.
-Z-
AN:
Written: 10/27/14
Revised 1: 10/27/14
Revised 2: 11/12/14
Revised 3: 11/13/14
Beta Read by: RoseFyre
This was written for the Write-Me-A-Story Hunger Games Challenge on Tumblr, where it was the Popular Vote Winner. The Challenge was to write a horror/supernatural/gore story inspired by a picture from TV or a Movie. I was honestly inspired by a lot of things (Walking Dead, The Stand, Outbreak, Night of the Living Dead, Shaun of the Dead, etc.). It was written in haste and so I'm doing some revisions as a break from frantic NaNoWriMo writing.
The story is complete and is in six parts. I will be publishing the chapters on those days that I don't have anything else scheduled to be published. The schedule is on my tumblr which is the same name as my penname.
Let me know what you think!