mgowriter's note: no specific page reference for this chapter, just an extrapolation from the last one
Chapter 10: Buried in White
The corridor is dimly lit with a single emergency light. His breath is the only sound in the eerie quiet. He presses along the smooth, white walls, feeling for a break in the impenetrable surface. Nothing. There are no doors.
"C'mon, Beetee," Haymitch mutters to himself. He paces the dark with increased agitation.
As if on cue, the lights above glow with life. A soft hum emits from the wall to his right, as a faint, rectangular outline appears. He steps toward the wall. The sensors register, and the space in front him opens to reveal a prisoner's cell.
. . .
He steps into the cell cautiously, fingertips ready on the rifle in front of him. A quick sweep of the room reveals no visible threats. He slings the weapon behind him, but pauses midstep. Something moves at the corner of his eyes.
He stares at the figure that's almost completely hidden underneath the metal bed. It looks like a doll, too thin and fragile to be human.
His stomach sinks.
The doll raises its head, and icy blue eyes stare into his.
"Effie," he says, barely above a whisper.
A flicker of recognition flashes through her eyes. She blinks, and it's gone. Her features harden under his scrutiny.
"Effie," he says again, moving closer to her.
She scrambles into an upright position, hugging herself against the bare wall. Her thin prisoner's uniform is a piece of cloth barely long enough to cover her body.
"It's me," Haymitch says, reaching out his hand.
Effie shrinks away from the outreached fingertips as if they're tinged with poison.
Her cheeks are sunken in, adding unnatural definition to her emaciated features. Her once beautiful blonde hair hangs limply down to her waist, matted and thinned. She's almost unrecognizable from the woman he sees every night in his dreams.
Effie jumps back again as Haymitch reaches for her arm, revealing thin, red branching lines that run across her skin.
"Haymitch!" Beetee's voice beckons from the cell door.
Haymitch looks at Beetee, hovering a couple of inches off the ground in his chair. He looks back at Effie, who tries to make herself as small as possible.
"I'll be right back," he vows.
. . .
"They recorded everything," Beetee says as soon as Haymitch reaches him.
"What?"
"Every second of every prisoner that was ever here," Beetee replies urgently. He thrusts the display screen at Haymitch. "This is Effie's cell, when she was first brought in."
Haymitch turns his attention to the small screen. Effie is forced into the room. She struggles against one of the Peacekeepers, who hits her with the back of his rifle.
"I'm going to speed it up," Beetee says quickly.
People come in and out of the picture in fast, jerky motions. Without warning, the screen becomes glaringly bright.
"What is that?" Haymitch asks, squinting at the image. Everything is washed out in a sea of light.
"Module one," Beetee replies.
"What do you mean, module one?"
Haymitch realizes the meaning of the words before they're out of his mouth. "Torture. The first sequence of breaking down a prisoner."
Beetee nods. They turn back to the video. Days pass. The light continues to burn. Effie moves about the room in a blur.
An interrogator appears for a brief second, and suddenly, the image goes black. It remains completely dark for minutes; weeks in real life. Module two.
When the lights come back on, the same interrogator enters the room.
"Slow it down," Haymitch says to Beetee.
The man places his hands into a pair of gloves that begin to crackle with electricity. He shows the gloves to Effie, who retreats in fear. The man grabs Effie by the arm, sending a shock through her entire body. He smiles, and finally releases her arm.
"I'm going to kill that sonofabitch," Haymitch says behind clenched teeth.
Beetee pulls up an identification picture onto the screen. The name underneath reads, "Ionais Javlen, Chief of Personnel."
On the display screen, Javlen finally leaves Effie's cell. As the door closes behind him, the tiles on the floor become charged with electricity. Effie hesitantly touches the nearest tile, but draws her hand back as she's shocked again. The only space that appears safe is where she's seated, one square tile next to the bed.
Haymitch sighs heavily.
"She doesn't want to be touched because she thinks she's going to be shocked. But it's me. Why doesn't she recognize me?"
Beetee shrugs. "Psychological conditioning. Subconscious association. Hallucinogens in her food. It could be anything. Look what they did to Peeta. I'm surprised she's not worse off. It might be a good idea for the medical team to examine her first."
Haymitch shakes his head. "No. No way. I'm not letting her out of my sight."
. . .
Effie hasn't moved from the spot where he left her. Her body curls tightly inside the square tile.
"It's okay, Effie," Haymitch says softly as he approaches. "The electricity's off. No one's going to hurt you anymore."
She follows his every move with her eyes.
"We need to get you out of here," Haymitch tries again, moving forward hesitantly.
"Stay away," she says sharply. Her voice is hard. "Haymitch is dead."
Haymitch halts in surprise.
"Burned," she continues. "I watched it happen. He was burned in the bombings of District 13. You won't trick me again."
His heart breaks with her words.
"Eff, it's me. Look at me."
She stares directly into his eyes. "You can tell Javlen he's wasting his time. I'm never giving him what he wants."