I fight as Katniss and the rest of the crew climb up the ladder. The lizard mutts skittering at me in every direction. I knew this was it. This is the end of everything. I grip hold of one of the pockets in my pants, taking out my picture of my lovely Annie, hoping she's safe somewhere. I clutch it for dear life as I fight. Then suddenly, a light was shone from above. It was Katniss on the ladder, shining the light from Cressida's gun down the shaft. 3 mutts tear at me as one yanks my head back and gets ready to take the death bite. I sneak a peak at Annie's picture, whispering a brief 'I love you' because I'm over and if this is the last thing I'm gonna do, its say 'I love you' to the one who turned my life around and made me see the best sides of life. The mutt bites in and injects its venom into my bloodstream. I'm frozen still for a moment then I feel as it courses through my veins. I then get sucked into a sea of a dream-like darkness.
When I awake, I do so in a dark, small, stuffy room. What is this place? I'm laying on what seems like a cold, concrete floor that's slightly dampened with what I hope is water, but when I slowly moved my maimed hand down to touch it and bring it into my hazy line of vision, I see that I am laying in a pool of my own blood. Where am I? I feel disgusting. I feel like every inch, every bone in my body is broken. Every skin cell body is torn. if I try to move, I'm hit by an intolerable amount of endearing, agonizing pain. I should be dead. I was dead. Maybe I'm in hell to suffer in this room eternally. I sigh, but then immediately regret doing this because when I do, it feels like all my ribs have been shattered and my lungs are on fire. I try and blink my eyes to get a clearer view on this room. Looking up, I see I am being watched. There is a camera in the top right corner of the ceiling. The little red light, flickering consistently, showing that it is indeed recording. Recognizing the camera, I realize I know exactly where I am. I'm in one of Snow's headquarters. I amount up some energy, lift my arm up and flip off the camera, knowing he's watching. I slump my hand back down and receive the consequences for moving with the pain. No later than 2 minutes later do I hear an eerie voice echoing from the barred up, tiny slit window in the locked, metal door.
"Are we awake, Mr. Odair?" Snow's voice creeps to my ear. I can hear the devilish grin on his face from the tone of his voice but I don't answer him.
"Nothing to say?" Snow asks.
I open my mouth to try and speak back. Try and say 'Fuck off, Snow.' But nothing comes out. Failing, I try again. To say anything at all.
"Good, then it's working." He says as I hear locks being opened as he works on the door. 'Good, then it's working'? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I move my mouth around, terrified that he might've turned me into an avox. Relief washes over me when I find my tongue still fully there, resting in my mouth. The metal door creaks open and I snarl when I see him.() He makes me sick. Almost as sick as the aroma of blood and roses that emits of him and floods my nose. I barely hear as he shouts out some strange names to come here. But when they do, it seems as though hell is about to get a lot worse. I clench my hands and to my curiosity, something crunches in my hand, still laying on the floor (mostly because I'm unable to do anything else), I lift my hand to my face and see I'm still holding a picture of Annie. It takes all my willpower not to cry. Dear God, I hope she's okay. I hope her fate is better than mine; one step away from hell.
"Okay men, I don't care how you have to do it, but I want you to bring Finnick to my office. He hasn't been very polite so don't feel like you have to be gentle." Snow points to me on the floor with his skinny finger. "And do me a favor, wash him up before you bring him in. He's filthy." He adds with a grin and stalks away. Its his fault I'm this way anyways. One burly man walks up to either side of me. I close my eyes and hope for the best. Pain is only what you make it to be. With that in mind I try and struggle with them. I throw punches here and there, kicking them where it counts, and spitting on them. I hear the murmured curses of the men when one of them brings out a syringe and laughs evily as I freeze in my spot and my eyes open. What the hell is that? But before I can snatch it out of his hand, he stabs it in my shoulder. I, again, am instantly falling in a sea of darkness.