A/N This is just a one shot about Cato's death and what is going through his mind at the time, as he takes his final breath. Review and let me know what you think ^^
My heart pounds wildly against my chest, as I push myself forward; continuing to play the role of the predator. That is what I have become and there will be no turning my back to this now. I will emerge victorious; if not for myself then for Clove. I clutched onto her hand desperately, as I watched the flicker of life in her eyes fade away to nothing. Never again would I see the fight that she wore proudly across her features; the only image I have left of her is a broken girl not ready to accept death. We were supposed to both share the honor of being crowned as victors of the 74th Hunger Games, but that pathetic boy from District 11 destroyed those chances.
An inhuman howl escapes my lips, as I smash my scarred fist against a nearby tree. However a wicked grin creeps across my lips at the thought of his warm scarlet blood that stained my flesh. He believed he stood a chance against me, but one must know by now that I will not fall. For I am the strong; the determined and I will not allow myself to draw my final breath in this dreaded arena. I roughly push darkened greens away from my form, as I aimlessly hunt through the woods that have now in a way become a part of me. It is here that I have suffered and committed murder; where I have watched other's take their final breathe and where I have been the cause of these final breathes being drawn. Even after I finally emerge from this place of hell as some see it; it will forever remain a part of me never to be forgotten amongst the whispers of the wind.
I make no effort to make my presence unknown; I want the accursed lovebirds of District 12 to find me. I want them to find me that way I can tear them a part. They should have known that love is breakable and that it cannot withstand the horrors we have endured. Love was never meant to hold a place in these wicked games and they should have learned they were foolish for believing otherwise. However this whole concept of the lovebirds makes the events that will soon unfold much more interesting from my point of view. They will be forced to watch as I destroy the one person they hold dear for all of Panem to see without an ounce of remorse dripping in the reflection of my eyes.
My hand twitches towards my blade at the sounds of a branch snapping tearing through the once still air. My breathing remains steady, but I push myself further knowing someone or something must be close. The arena has had a toll on my impressionable mind, but these twists and turns of my mind are something I have embraced with open arms. The sole reason I was brought into this world was to be a true bred killer. Love was something that was not shared in my household and perhaps that is why I have grown into the young man I am today. Perhaps that is why I took small ounces of pleasure in each death that was caused by my hands. I never knew what love really was and even if I had felt a version of it at one point in my life I will never be able to fully grasp this concept.
I run my fingertips lightly across the material that clings to my body; with this armour I surely cannot lose. I will bring honor to my family; I refuse to fall victim to these games I have willingly allowed myself to partake in. Volunteering is all I ever dreamed of as a child; not a bright future, but the promise of eternal glory. Many would not understand this undying need to prove myself, but it is something that I have done since birth. I always thrived to be the best there was and soon I would be close to achieving that. There is nothing better than being a victor in my eyes; even though many do believe there is no honor in what it is I am doing. They don't understand; they can't understand. This is all I have ever known; these predator aspects about myself are something that have been branded into my mind since I was young, against my choice. This is what my parents wanted from me; to be proud to say they have a killer for a son.
I stop in my tracks for a moment, as my senses begin to go into overdrive. My mind tumbles in and out of reality at a frightening pace, as thoughts and emotions run rampant like wild fire across the canvas of my mind. This is when I come to the realization that my thoughts have never truly been my own, no matter how much I tried to convince myself that they were. Everything that I have ever done in my life has been for someone else and not for my own whims and desires; their desires have become my own, but is there really anything I can do about that? The answer is no and this is something that I know for a fact, but why is it that it has taken me this long to figure all of this out?
I shake my head wildly, as I push these thoughts back into the plummets of my mind where they belong. There are greater games at play in this moment; my life is still at stake and that is all I should be focused on. I begin to walk once more, but this time with much lighter steps. With the shrouding darkness now acting as my only ally do I begin to really ponder what it is I will do once I get my hands on the pair from District 12. Perhaps I will draw the final breath out of the boy and force Katniss into taking her own life out of grief. A cruel smile tugs at my lips at these twisted thoughts, but this look quickly dissolves into my features at the sound of the forest giving way beneath the heavy pressure of some unknown being.
My entire form becomes still, as if I have been frozen in time. Something is approaching this much is clear, but what it is that is what is at a lost to me. My breathing becomes shallow, as the sounds of snapping branches grows louder until it has grown to a roar at an ear splitting level and that is when I see them. Several pairs of eyes piece through the fog that night calls forth; each pair looking at me with a hungry look gleaming in the surface of their eyes. I am running before I even fully register what it is thundering after me is not human, but that they are several pairs of mutts. Adrenaline slowly begins to snake its way through my veins, as I will my legs to move faster. Never before have I had to run for my life as I am now; never before has anything proposed such a threat to my well being.
Branches slash at my skin, as if they are trying to slow me down, but I refuse to allow them to hold me prisoner. I can hear the mutts rapidly approaching; their steely breath breathing down the soft flesh of my neck. This is when I feel an emotion that has never graced my very being before. Fear begins to bubble to my chest, as I fear this is the moment where I may die. After being the predator for so long, this feeling of being the prey is completely new to me. This is the feeling I have struck into so many tributes before I stole away their final breath and now that very same feeling is being pressed upon myself. The sharp teeth of the mutts snap at my heels, as a clearing begins to loom in the diction; this could propose itself as my final salvation.
I'm running faster than I have ever before when I burst into the clearing, as all of my surroundings have begun to dissolve into nothing. I can only see the path set out before me that is until I see the pointed tip of an arrow slicing through the air. It poses no threat to me so I continue to charge forward. The arrow makes contact with my body, but it is simply deflected off my armour that glimmers playfully in the light of the paling moon. I run right past the lovebirds of District 12 and I barely even realize I have done so. I can see the cornucopia splayed out before me, as if it is beckoning me forward; offering me one last hope for survival. My lungs feel as if they are about to burst, as my blonde hair sticks to my skin, but none of these sensations even register, as I press my hands against the still scalding hot metal of the cornucopia. The heat soaks into my skin, as I pull myself up. The moment I reach the top I curl up into a fetal position trying to regain control over my breathing.
I can hear the snarls of the mutts and the desperate calls of those damned tributes of District 12. My temples throb, as my vision has begun to blur around the edges. This is the grand finale the Gamemakers have been waiting for; that final moment where all their efforts will broil to the surface. I see now that in reality I am not much different from those Gamemakers who play God in these twisted games. They rein control over the courses us tributes could possibly take, but they work in much more discreet ways then myself. I never relied on petty traps or creations to prove myself powerful, but all I ever needed was the flawless steel of my precious blade.
I will not allow myself to be the final death to this grand finale; I will rise from the ashes, as the deep crimson blood of those two who have caused so much commotion from the beginning stains my flesh. Two last kills is all that stands between life and death. They are the two that block my path home, but it is now where my life is hanging in the balance where I realize there is nothing left for me in District 2; that place that has been branded with the title of home. It was never my home not even from the fresh beginnings of my life. Home was always where my blade resided and nowhere else. How is it that one simple weapon has controlled my life for so long? To see its flawless steel caked in scarlet is all I have ever been allowed to know; it is now that I see that I have never really been alive. A pawn created in the Capitol's image is what I have always been and it is now too late to change that.
I glance up, my eyes tinged in scarlet having been driven slightly mad. I take in the sight of Peeta who appears to be yelling at Katniss to end my pathetic excuse of a life, but their words are lost amongst the chaos that whips through the air. Before either of them can react I am on my feet once more, after having regained control over the vessel that is my body. I am sure to give Panem the show of their lives before these games come to an end, as in reality there is nothing else that I know how to do. Their eyes widen in fear at the sight of my towering form; they know of my protective armour and they know my skills vastly outweigh their own. I push Katniss away from my form, as I grab Peeta around the throat. I slowly backup towards the edge of the cornucopia where I can still hear the mutts awaiting one of us to step off the edge becoming their first taste of fresh blood.
Peeta thrashes around in my hold, but I keep my eyes locked on Katniss's. "Let him go!" She bellows, as she keeps her bow leveled with my body. A cold laughter escapes my lips at this pathetic sight, "Go ahead and shoot me and we both go over the edge! Or perhaps I should just snap his neck now; what difference would it make? Just one more kill to add to my list. It's all I've ever known anyways!" My tone carries emotions that have been buried deep beneath my surface for as long as I can remember. "To be this way is how I was raised! How much more of a difference would it make; none that's what! It's all I've ever known," My voice slowly becomes softer, as I speak and I curse myself quietly for the weakness I have begun to show.
The first moment I allow myself to blink is when I begin to feel everything that has been deprived from me for my entire life. The moment I open my eyes is when I see the arrow tearing its way through the air; it makes contact with my exposed hand ripping apart my soft flesh. I howl out in pain, as I lose my footing. My feet slip across the blood soaked metal, as Peeta steps away from me and I feel myself fall away from the sanctum that was the cornucopia. With my body suspended in mid air I know this is where I shall die. I will not emerge victor, I will not bring glory to my family, and I will not win for Clove's sake.
I hit the ground hard and all the air rushes from my lungs, but all of this pales in comparison to the first sensation of teeth tearing their way into my body. A howl of pain escapes my lips, but I still have a fighting chance. I reach into my belt and pull out a ruby tinted blade. In moments the blade is slashing through the air, as my own screeches of pains blend in sweet melody with the howls of the mutts. I rip apart their flesh, but I can quickly feel my strength diminishing. I am outnumbered, but I refuse to go down without a fight. A battle cry escapes my lips, as I dig my knife into the hollow of a mutt's throat, but while I am distracted another mutt pounces slamming my weakening form up against the cornucopia. The sound of metal against metal rips through the air, as I look into a pair of eyes I thought I would never pay witness to again in my lifetime.
"Clove?" I say hoarsely, as the mutt bares its teeth wildly. In a moment the mutt that holds Clove's eyes prisoner throws me towards the earth and I attempt to scramble away. I knot my fingers into the grass, as I desperately attempt to drag my body across the ground, leaving a trail of deep crimson in my wake. Fear grips at my chest and keeps its icy grip in place, as the mutt grabs a hold of my ankle and drags me into the cornucopia. Once the shadows the cornucopia casts engulf me whole, this is when I know I have reached the end of the road that is my life. There is no more fighting; only the agony as I await my death.
Horrific screams escape my lips, as the mutts relentlessly wreck as much havoc upon my body as my armour will allow them. Never before have I felt such pain; never before did I ever fathom the idea that I would be pushed over the edge into a world filled with so much anguish. My blood begins to soak into the earth, but I will my mind to slip between the cracks. My screams continue to rip away at the fabrics of the air, but my mind is not fully present in this moment.
I see and feel everything in these last few moments of my life. I can recall the first moment I stepped into the training hall; the first day my father told me that one day I would volunteer. I was filled with a determination to prove myself to him, but as I lay here soaked in my own blood have I really proved anything? I have proved absolutely nothing to the world; only that even the careers can portray weakness. I can't imagine how I must appear to the world in this moment of time; nothing more than a raw piece of meat, that whimpers desperately for death to come and claim him.
I wonder what thoughts are running across my parent's mind, as they watch their only child be ripped to shreds for the entire country to pay witness to. Does my mother weep, as she knows there is nothing she can do to help her son? Does my father feel nothing, but disappointment because I have failed in proving myself as worthy to be labelled with the title of being his son? Will they attend the procession of my funeral or will they be nothing more than an absence? Without my parents there to watch as I am placed beneath the earth I know no one will attend. I will be nothing more than another causality to District 2; there have been many before myself and Clove so why should my death be treated any different? I will be placed in a box that holds no significance of who I was when I was still breathing; that is if there is anything left of my body.
Whimpers continue to escape my blood soaked lips, as I look up into the eyes of the Mutt that possesses Clove's eyes. I hold onto this image, as the minutes begin to drag by. We held a bond no one would ever fully understand; we would never hold the title of lovebirds, as our bond ran deeper than anything either of us could fully comprehend. What we shared was more of a need than a want; a form of a sweet and toxic addiction. I close my eyes with the image of her clear green eyes branded across my now closed eye lids. When she needed me I failed to be by her side; I even failed to avenge her. Soon I will be joining her, but what place could there be for monsters like ourselves? We were always taught that only monsters could be crowned as victors and that is what we both strived to be. We trained alongside each other, but the thought that one day we would be competitors never stopped us from giving into our desires when no one was looking.
We were never careful with what we felt for each other, but we never once allowed that accursed word of love to slip free from our lips. Was it really love we shared or was it nothing more than desire? I want her to be here to hold onto my hand as I slip away, but instead all I can do is look into the cold lifeless orbs that once belonged to her. What we shared was never safe, but then again was it ever meant to be?
A chilling wind whips through the air, as another gasp of pain forces its way out of my lips. I am barely holding onto this precious thing we call life, but they still refuse to allow me to slip away. This is meant for their entertainment and nothing more. How could I have been so blind to think any of this could ever be right? I cannot blame this on anyone, but myself; I allowed those two seemingly simple words to slip free from my lips. If only then I knew these words would force me to meet my untimely demise.
The flesh of my face has become slick, as a few faint tears mixed with crimson streak down my face. This is the first and final time tears will ever grace my features, but what is it that I cry for? For the lost of my own life or maybe because I am fully grasping the fact that the life I have lived has been empty. I held no real purpose, but to volunteer. That is not a real purpose, but I was never shown to see things any differently. The world was always bleak in my eyes and the only time I felt any flicker of emotion was when I was in the presence of Clove. That is until I felt the pleasure of destroying lives and the power that forced me to feel.
My eyes flutter open, as a final wave of pain washes over me. I look up at the lightening sky and I know this is the final sunrise that I will ever pay witness to. I take in everything; the way the colors are interwoven into each other, even the way the clouds dot the sky. This can be seen as mockery, as the final aspects of the world I have been allowed to pay witness to are peaceful; an emotion that I have never truly been allowed to feel. I used to believe I felt peace when I was in control; when I was holding my blade between my clutches displaying just how much power I possessed. I see now that was nothing more than a false sense of peace and in reality it was nothing more than the corrupt need I felt for power.
My breathing has become shaky, as I look desperately up towards the cornucopia. There I see a pair of grey eyes peering down at me, but my vision has blurred over so I can barely register my surroundings. My lips quiver as I try to allow the word please to escape my lips. I want to move onto; I need to depart from this world. There is nothing left for me here except for the looming fact that even the strong shall fall.
I close my eyes, as I hear the sound of the arrow tearing through the air. This arrow is my final saviour that will grant me the access of passing on. The arrow skewers its way through my skull and instantly my cannon goes off somewhere in the distance.
I was meant to emerge victorious, but the universe had its own way of playing out the sequence of events that have been played out. I was the brute of District 2, but in the end I was no different from those who died by my own hands. None of us want to die, but here in these games that we played we never had a choice. Perhaps it was my destiny to become nothing more than another face in the sky. How many faces before myself have been shown? There have been 1725 faces shown clearly across the canvas that is the sky; including my own. Each one had a story to share; each one had their life cut short. This is our life now; to be buried beneath the earth, to be forgotten by the world we were once a part of. I was the strong, but even I crumbled. I was never meant to withstand everything I willingly stepped towards; perhaps it was my own blindness that destroyed me in the end.
