What if We Were Made to Kill Each Other?
Chapter Two: Fearful Heart
Pet sat awkwardly next to Axel. She didn't meet his eyes. She wouldn't look at him. She couldn't form any words. She brought her knees up, wrapping her arms around them and resting her chin on top. Her hands still shook, and she couldn't get it to stop. It was a show of vulnerability, she knew, but she just needed something to hold onto. And Axel was out of the question.
She watched the world fly as she glanced out the window. The Capitol train was… well, luxurious was an understatement. It was overwhelming. Dizzying.
But at least it was a distraction from her mental turmoil. Because one thought kept running through her mind that she wished would stop. You're going to die. You're going to die. You're going to die. Over and over again, it went around, like some sick, twisted form of intimidation.
Their mentors walked into the room.
District Nine had only two victors; Oak and Julius. Julius was an aged man, perhaps in his mid-sixties, with a shock of grey-white hair that stood out against his deeply tanned, lined skin. Despite his apparent age, his brown eyes twinkled with mischief. Oak, in comparison, was closer to her late twenties, with short, curling blonde hair. Her skin was also tanned. Big surprise. Everyone in their district had tanned skin; it's what happened when they spent most of the day out in the sun.
The sight of them might have given anyone else hope; after all, they won – they made it through their games. People from District Nine could win. Instead, it only made Pet feel worse, and her mantra kicked back up again.
You're going to die.
Because, really, how was she supposed to win? Julius still held onto the bulk he obviously had when he was younger; the muscle, the strength and size, the broad shoulders and big hands, just like Axel. And Oak, while not physically big, was tall, with long, muscled legs that were clearly designed for running, and running fast. They had physical advantages. Pet had neither. Their presence only served to point that out, as if to say, there's nothing we can do to save you.
Pet realized her mother was wrong; she wasn't stronger than she thought. And she'd made a promise she was never going to be able to keep.
When Julius offered Pet his hand, she mentally scolded herself for her display of vulnerability, pulling herself together.
Show a little mettle. Strength. Determination, even! Just stop curling up into a ball and being pathetic.
She stood up and shook his hand. She wasn't some little girl. Yes, she was scared, but that didn't mean she should show it. She wanted her mentors, her only chance at surviving even a little, to know that she was worth trying to help, that their efforts wouldn't be wasted.
"I'm Julius," he introduced.
"I know."
A hint of a smile lifted his lips. "And you're Petronia."
"Obviously. But I prefer Pet."
There. That wasn't so hard. She could be strong. She was strong every day. For her father, and mother and sister. They needed someone to be strong for them. Her father needed someone he could rely on to help him earn money. Her mother needed someone to look after him when he worked too hard. Her sister needed someone to protect her from everything that could hurt her gentle spirit. So Pet was what she had to be, what they needed her to be. And right now, they needed her to be strong.
She shook hands with Oak then, trying not to feel intimidated by the older woman.
They sat down. Julius began to speak, and Pet swallowed. "So, what we want to do first is give you an image."
"Image?" Pet squeaked, before clearing her throat. This was just getting ridiculous. She had no control over her body, which seemed hell-bent on betraying her. "I mean… What kind of image?"
She really had to get a grip.
"We need something to sell to the sponsors. Something that'll make them want you to win," Oak explained. "Everyone underestimates how important sponsors are until they get here."
"How?" Axel asked. It was the first thing Pet had heard him say. His voice was deep and kind of echoing. In the chair beside Pet, his tense shoulders were at her eye level, and his chestnut brown hair was cut short, close to his head. "How important are they?" Like he was wondering how hard he was going to have to work at this image thing.
"Let's just say… when there's something you need that could mean the difference between living and dying, how do you think you're going to get it?"
"Through the sponsors. Which is why you need an image," Julius nodded. "We need an image that plays to your strengths. So, let's start with your skills."
Pet didn't think she had any skills. Unless being good with mentally ill people counted. But that wasn't something that was going to save her. She didn't have anything that would save her.
She wanted to slap herself. Yes, she was going to die. But she didn't want to be one of the ones who just let it happen, who didn't help themselves because they thought it was pointless. She didn't want her family to see that. And damnit, she didn't want to die like that.
She was stronger than that. She was tough; she'd been working two jobs for most of her life, she'd constantly worked on little to no sleep. She could calm down an irrational, extremely upset Diana. Diana was the sweetest person in the world, but when she was upset, it was frightening. Because she wasn't rational, so logical arguments were useless. Reason didn't work with her. People were afraid of what they couldn't reason with. It made them uncomfortable. It made them mean.
She'd ignored the whispers about how Diana was weird. A freak. Retarded. How Pet was related to them, how she had a retarded mother and sister. How she could have children like them, because it seemed to run in the family. And she'd taken that in her stride. She'd never let any of it stop her.
She became what she had to be.
"Okay…" Julius said slowly. He didn't sound surprised by their lack of answer. "Well, let's start with the obvious; scythes."
It hit Pet then. She could handle a scythe – and that was a weapon. Everyone in District Nine could handle a scythe like it was an extension of their arm. She wasn't entirely helpless. But then her feeling of elation died. How was she supposed to get a scythe? All the weapons were kept close to the cornucopia, and she'd never survive past the initial bloodbath if she tried to get to one.
Axel shrugged, "Strength."
"That's an advantage," Oak agreed, before her eyes dropped to Pet. "But smaller have come out alive."
Because this wasn't about winning. It was about coming out alive. There was a difference.
"True," Julius said, not looking at Pet. "What else?"
They were silent again. Pet tried thinking about her skills. But if she had any, she didn't know about it.
"Nothing?" Julius frowned. "Come on." He turned his attention to Pet. "What about something for you? Are you fast?"
Pet pressed her lips together, "As fast as everyone else." She was too short to be fast.
"What about the bow and arrows?"
"What about them?" Pet sighed.
"Swords?"
This was just so ridiculous. Obviously, in their district, no one has the chance to practice with those. No one had money to buy any to practice with. They weren't District 2. They were the grain district, and the only time grain hurt anyone was when it flicked up into their eye.
"Oh, yeah," She snapped, growing irritated. Couldn't he take the hint? She didn't have any skills. All he was doing was pointing that out to everyone. "We practice with them all the time at my house."
His lips pressed together in a line. She could see in his eyes that he was running out of ideas. "Don't worry. We'll think of something."
Yeah. Right. Pet knew she was already half-way to dead.
"Why don't you get some rest before the Reaping's rehash tonight?" Oak suggested, and Pet nodded, standing up and heading for the door Oak pointed at.
Pet felt exhausted. Mentally and physically, though she hadn't even done much, and it wasn't long past midday. Most years, the tributes from her district were some poor, half-starved kid, half-way to dead. It was hardly fair to send them in, up against kids who had had enough to eat their whole life and who had been training to kill since they were old enough to hold a weapon.
Pet's room was just across from Axel's, and she pushed the door open, trying to be as silent as possible.
"Petronia," Axel's echo-like voice made her turn around in a jump of surprise. Her heart hammered away, and she pressed her lips together, irritated at her response. No, she hadn't been expecting Axel to say anything to her, but that didn't mean she had to react like he'd shoved her in the arm.
She coughed, "I prefer Pet."
He nodded, but Pet got the feeling it was a standard response, whatever was on his mind was taking up a lot of room. His jaw twitched, like he was considering whether or not he should say whatever it was he wanted to say. Pet's head tilted to the side as she considered him, taking him in.
And then her stomach dropped. He was about to say he wanted her to stay away from him. He didn't want the other tributes associating him with her. He'd found out she had no skills whatsoever, and he didn't want her thinking she could tag along with him and ruin his chances of survival. She bit her lip, trying not to feel offended and hurt.
But it did hurt, if only a little. If she couldn't trust her district partner, who could she trust? And she needed someone to trust. His eyes took her in, suddenly changing, throwing them in an analytical light, like he was assessing her. Searching for something in her face. He must have found it, because he opened his mouth. "I don't want to have to kill you in the arena."
Pet jerked back like she'd been slapped. Because she heard the implications of his words; that he would. He could. He just didn't want the guilt of killing someone from his own district hanging over him. Her heart kicked back up. It was beating like it knew it had a limit. Her hands clenched, and she lifted her chin defiantly.
"And I don't want to have to kill you either," She replied. She knew it meant little, coming from her. In a fight, she wouldn't win. But that was beside the point. If it came to a fight, she wasn't going to just roll over. No. She was going to try her hardest to win. She had to.
He nodded. And it wasn't sarcastic, or placating. He wasn't making a face, like 'oh, sure you can kill me'. He wasn't laughing. He was watching her steadily, taking her completely seriously. Like he knew she would fight hard. And he respected it, and understood it.
An unspoken understanding passed through them. They would not fight or attack each other in the arena. If they stumbled upon each other, they'd just go their separate ways and be done with it. They wouldn't risk their lives for each other, but they certainly wouldn't try to kill each other.
Pet turned away from him and walked into her room. She had one less enemy, and it felt surprisingly good. The room, while small, was hardly simple. It was as luxurious as the rest of the train.
A gnawing, twisting feeling in her gut started up. When she sat down on the edge of her bed, it got worse. It felt wrong to lie on the bed. It felt wrong to accept what was happening to her. She was a scapegoat for the Capitol, and she didn't like being used. She didn't like that the luxury, the food, the way they lived in the days before the games, was all a bribe. She didn't want to accept it. She wanted to return it. She wanted to go home. None of this was fair.
You're going to die.
Pet hadn't cried in years. She was tougher than that. But right now, she wanted to. She could feel it creeping up on her, stinging her eyes. She blinked harshly. She wouldn't cry. Partly because she was afraid that if she started, she wouldn't stop. And partly because if she let herself cry, it wasn't exactly coming to terms with her new reality. It meant she was holding onto the past.
She slipped off the bed, onto the carpet, and she frowned. The carpet was nearly as soft as her bed back home, in District Nine. And for a moment, it offered a sense of familiarity. She curled up, still on the floor, and closed her eyes. Like this, she could pretend she was at home. She could pretend she hadn't been reaped. She could pretend she wasn't going to die very, very soon.
She drifted into an uneasy sleep.
…
Something hard prodded Pet in the ribs. She frowned, grumbling, and turning over.
Another prod came to meet the other side of her ribs.
She jerked upright, remembering in a rush where she was. What was happening.
Julius stood in her room, and she realized it was his boot that had been nudging her. Pet felt far from properly rested, and she pulled herself up, rubbing at her eyes and looking expectantly at her mentor. "Reapings will be on soon," he told her.
He frowned at the ground where she'd been sleeping. His lips pressed tight, and he turned towards her door, pausing. He looked back at her, "You're not a lesser person if you sleep on the bed."
Pet didn't want to talk about it. Didn't really want to explain that the ground felt more like home than anything else right then. Or that she didn't like accepting bribery from the Capitol, especially considering they were the ones killing her in a show of blood and brutality. Then her eyes widened slightly in sudden realization.
It was going to hurt. Dying in the games. Nobody liked it when it was clean and quick. It was going to hurt. Pet swallowed, her mouth dry. She looked up at Julius. "I'll be out for the Reapings."
He took the hint and went with it, nodding and leaving her alone.
She made herself shove aside her thoughts as she walked out to where the large TV sat, surrounded by large, soft chairs. She sat down next to Axel. Not too close, like she was trying to form a bond, a connection, a friendship with him, but not so far that it was like she was ignoring him. The screen flickered to life, and Pet blinked her sore eyes.
There was a lot of talk and commentary at the beginning, and Pet slipped back into her dark musings, tuning it out. She wanted as little to do with the games as possible.
You're going to die.
Shut up! She snarled at herself. She knew it. But she didn't need to be constantly reminded of it. It made her lose focus, made her panic, made her heart pound painfully fast and made her want to throw up.
Pet glanced at the screen to realize the actual Reapings had already started. A boy, tall and confident, stood on the stage of District One, as another girl, beautiful and willowy, flounced her way up to the stage, almost shimmying. Marvel and Glimmer. The boy was an obvious threat, and the girl was yet to be determined.
A small, scrawny girl with raven dark hair volunteered in District Two. She was young, but her smile sent a shiver up Pet's spine. She bared her teeth to the crowd, announcing her volunteering as soon as the escort announced a different name. Clove. She scared Pet, even though she was younger than her. There was something about the sadistic grin she carried around that made her afraid.
But it was the boy who made her heart miss a beat. The escort didn't even get a chance to announce the chosen boy before a loud, confident, self-possessed, almost lazy 'I volunteer' came from the crowd. It shifted, to let the male saunter up, completely at ease, to the stage. Tall. Gorgeous. Big. He gave Axel some competition in the strength department. Coiled tight with muscle and radiating a deadly air; his body was as dangerous as any weapon and judging from his smirk, it was clear he wouldn't have any qualms with taking a life. Cato. He was so, obviously, a career. Trained to enter the games, kill, then exit as a victor.
Pet sank down further in the soft chair. She had gotten herself into so much trouble.
Both tributes from District Three were young. Just kids. Terror shined in their eyes and Pet had to close her own eyes so as not to see anymore. A horrible thought struck her.
She was going to have to kill in these games. To come home, she had to, at least once. But Pet knew without a doubt she couldn't. She hadn't been trained to kill since she was little. She couldn't fathom it. Couldn't take away someone else's daughter or son, brother or sister. It wasn't something she could live with. Ever.
Pet didn't want to play the Capitol's game. She couldn't let them make her into something she wasn't. A killer. Ruthless.
And yet she couldn't stop other people from killing those she refused to. What was worse? Doing it herself, or doing nothing and letting it happen? They were just as bad as each other.
When Pet opened her eyes again, they were up to District Seven. Their faces, their names, blurred past. Her mind recognized them as either a threat, or as another kid like her. But she didn't see any other serious threats. Not like District Two's tributes.
And then it came to her own Reaping. She winced, when Diana started screaming for her, her fear palpable as she struggled against the Peacekeepers. Her disturbing wails pierced the silent air. And then Pet saw herself there, volunteering.
Then she saw Axel. And next to him, she looked dainty and weak. She was no threat. And the next district came on the screen.
District Eleven had a tiny, twelve year old girl as a tribute, and a massive male, bigger than Axel and Cato. District Twelve was last, and for the first time, they had a volunteer. The coal mining district rarely saw any volunteers. The poor districts, the ones who didn't have kids training to kill, were the ones who didn't have any volunteers usually.
The girl who volunteered gave Pet pause. Katniss. She was most definitely a threat. Because choosing to volunteer to save someone else made it different; you were willingly putting yourself into the horrors of the games, in full possession of your bodily functions. She chose this. She chose to save the person she loved. And that made her so much more dangerous than if she had been called instead of her sister. Katniss didn't give anything away at all. Stoic and calm. Steady hands and voice.
Pet was in so much trouble.
The male looked as scared as Pet felt.
So, what did you think?
Let me know!
Also, I do replies to reviews at the end of the next chapter, so here we go with the replies to reviews for chapter 1;
Teddy bear 007: Hey, thanks so much for reviewing! I noticed you also reviewed some of my other stories, too, so thanks so much for that! It's really nice of you! Anyway, I'm glad you liked the first chapter and seem to want to read more. Hopefully, you liked this chapter too! Though, it was a little slow… Thanks so much, again!
Fangirlingeverysecond: Haha, thank you! I'm so stoked you thought the first chapter was amazing! And that you are in love with it . Haha, thank you! I hope you liked this chapter just as much!
Itsthatcrazygirl13: Thank you so much! I'm so glad you seem to like it so far and are interested in reading more! I hope you liked this chapter! Thanks so much for taking the time to review this story for me! It means a lot!
Nathapril: Aw, thank you! I'm so happy that I wrote it in just a way to make it so that you couldn't help but love it :D Thanks so much for taking the time to review this for me! I really hope you liked the second chapter too, though I do think this one's a little slow.
Marceasdf: Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked it! I would definitely like to continue this, so for now I won't be leaving it there! I'm really stoked you seem to want to read more! I hope you liked this chapter then! And thanks so much for reviewing this for me! It means so much to me! Thank you!
WMaldonado89: Hi! Thanks so much for taking the time to review this for me! I agree that it was a little on the slow side; it took a while to get through the scene. But, I hope you liked this chapter. Though, I actually think this chapter was slower. I plan to pick up the pace really soon, so sorry if it bugs you! Again, thanks so much for reviewing!
MeandPizzatheOTP: Haha, thanks so much for leaving a really nice, encouraging review like that! I'm so stoked you seem to want to read more, so I hope you liked this chapter then! Thanks so much for taking the time to review for me!
Hoove-print-on-your-heart: Hi! Thanks so much for taking the time to review! It means so much to me, and it's especially nice when such a nice one is left for me! So, thank you! I'm really glad you're excited to read the rest of the story! Thanks so much! :D