Hey guys! So sorry for the late update…this chapter was originally supposed to be up two Mondays ago, then it was supposed to be finished on Christmas, but…well, I never ended up finishing it until tonight. So anyway, I decided that I didn't really like Remy anymore if you didn't notice…so bam, he's dead. hope you like this chapter!

Oh and by the way, this chapter is a bit evil toward the end of the questioning…oh well. That's Clove.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I'm standing in front of a heavy metal door in one of the dusty, smelly hallways of the hospital basement. I grip my knife tightly in my right hand, bouncing on my toes. This is partly because I'm excited, and partly because it's freezing down here. But more from excitement. I was beginning to think they weren't going to have me for questioning at all—I was supposed to go four days ago.

"It's this one right here." The bulky man that led me down here says, pointing to the rusted door. "I'll knock when it's time for you to come out. And remember—don't kill her. And don't go too crazy, she needs to be able to talk."

I nod. "Alrighty."

The guy slid open a heavy latch and then swung the door open. I took one step inside and it slammed behind me.

It's eerily quiet in this room. So quiet that the slam of the door still echoes around the peeling walls for a few seconds. The room is very, very large, with old cement floors like the ones that ran throughout the basement level of the hospital and stained cement walls to match. The lighting is a dim, foggy glow that is coming from a single loose bulb hanging in the very center of the room. And under that light is the only object in the room—an old, wooden chair which contains Primrose Everdeen.

Prim looks even thinner and paler than she did when I first saw her, and I wonder if they have even fed her at all. Her head is down, a curtain of thin blond hair shielding herself from me. Her hands and feet are chained tightly to the arms and legs of the old chair. They sure are doing a good job at the old-fashioned theme if that's what they were trying to do.

She doesn't even look up when the door closes. I take a few steps closer, and even my quiet footsteps send loud echoes throughout the whole room. I notice then that she has small cuts all over her—on her face, arms, collarbone. Little pieces of her hair have also been cut off, I observe, but not so much that it's too noticeable. Just for humiliation? Who knows.

It's not until I'm standing right in front of her that she looks up. She lifts her head, slowly. She's shivering just the slightest bit, from either cold or hunger or fear or all of the above. But to my surprise, she's the first one to speak.

"How are you alive?" She asks me. Her voice is just a whisper and cracks at the end of the sentence.

I give her a half-smile and point up. "Doctors."

Prim gives her head a slight shake. "But…but I watched you die." She states, her voice a little stronger. "I watched you try to kill my sister and then I watched you die." She tries to say with confidence but doesn't look me in the eye.

Even though it shouldn't get to me, it does, just in the slightest. I quickly reach out and slash her on the arm. She gasps and sinks back in her chair, the shallow cut starting to bleed just a little.

"Aren't I the one who's supposed to be asking the questions?" I ask her, raising my eyebrows. She doesn't respond. I sigh.

"So, Primrose." I begin, pacing slowly back and forth. "What exactly did you do to help the rebel forces?"

It takes her a minute to answer. "I was training to be a nurse."

I turn to look at her. "A nurse? I'm guessing they didn't give you much information, then?"

Primrose shakes her head.

"But you did know some information. More than most nurses, am I correct?"

She hesitates, but then nods.

"And why was that?" I ask her, as though I didn't already know the answer. Enobaria had already filled me in on a lot of things, and told me which questions I should stick to the most.

Prim stays silent, but when I take a step toward her she talks. "Because Katniss is my sister."

"And Katniss is…?"

"The Mockingjay." Prim says softly, looking down again.

I nod and laugh a little at the dumb name. Why center a whole war around a stupid bird? "Right. So how long have the rebels been planning this war?" I ask her. She just glares at me, her pale blue eyes boring into mine. But after a second she answers.

"I don't know."

I raise my eyebrows. "You don't know?"

"I told you. They didn't tell me anything. Katniss didn't even tell me much."

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm…too young, apparently." She says, her annoyance showing through her weak voice.

"Do you wish that you were the Mockingjay? Your sister has gotten a lot of attention."

Prim shakes her head. "I'll never be as strong as my sister." She says, disappointment clear in her tone.

I snort. "You're sister is just some poor kid from District Twelve who got lucky and was stupid enough to ruin it."

Prim looks up at me, fury on her little face. "You don't know anything about my sister."

I stare at her for a moment. "You're right. And that's why I need you to tell me about her." I start walking back and forth again. "Who was that boy she was with the day I captured you?"

An expression ghosts over her empty face, one that I can't quite place—is that fear? Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second, then she clears her throat and takes a deep breath.

"No one."

"What was his name?"

She clears her throat again. "Darius." She says finally, and then she squirms in her seat a little.

I narrow my eyes, observing her behavior. She keeps clearing her throat. She's fidgeting. I've always been good at knowing if people are telling the truth or not, but it's not that hard to tell that Prim is definitely fibbing. I can tell this is a vital piece of information if she's lying about it, no matter how little it may seem.

"You're lying." I accuse after I finish my assessment. "Who was it?"

"His name was Darius!"

I cross over to her in one swift step and press the knife to the underbelly of her arm, hard. "Who. Was. It?" I spit at her.

Prim grits her teeth, and I can tell she's not planning on telling me. I add a little more pressure to the knife, it's about to break skin. "Are you going to tell me? Or do I have to cut it out of you?"

She still doesn't answer. I guess I'll have to go with the latter option.

I press the knife hard into her skin, opening a huge cut. Blood gushes down it, staining her already dirty clothes. She lets out a little yelp and I can tell that she's trying hard to stay strong. So I take the knife away from her arm and move to the other side of the chair. Judging by the other little cuts on her arm, everyone else held back with the torturing. Not me. Primrose is as close to Katniss that I can get.

I place the tip of my sharp blade to her shoulder and put my mouth up to her ear. "I'm going to give you one more chance." I say. "Who was that boy?"

To my surprise, she turns her head toward me so our faces are close together. Then, she spits right in my face. My mouth opens in surprise and my face flushes with fury as I wipe her saliva off of my face. Why does this seem so familiar? She truly is Katniss's sister, inside and out.

"Bad move, honey. Need I remind you who holds the weapon?" I smile evilly at her, and then press the tip of the blade into her shoulder. She screams out in pain and her hands grip the arms of the chair tightly.

"Who was the boy?" I shout at her.

"I will never tell you!" she shouts back. "You can take me, but you will never take him! He's the only one Katniss has left and I won't let you take him away from her!"

A scream swallows her words before she can even take a breath as I drag the knife, still stabbed into her shoulder, down her arm. I stop when I get to the crook of her elbow, smiling at the steady flow of scarlet coming out of her arm. I can tell she's trying not to but now tears are flowing down Prim's cheeks.

"Do you want to tell me before I tear your whole arm up?" I ask her, wiggling the knife a bit where it's wedged in her skin. "Resisting will do you no good, we're going to win anyway. You're rebels—they'll be dead with the press of a button. And you'll have gone through all of this for nothing. Think about it—the more you resist, the more I hurt you. And the more I hurt you, the more it hurts your beloved sister. And you wouldn't want to hurt her, would you?"

Prim's shoulders heave with a sob, and then she winces at the pain it must have caused her.

I hear a knock on the door.

"You have ten seconds." I warn her. "One…"

Prim looks like she's trying to get her breath back.

"Two...you're only hurting her…."

She just cries.

"Ten." I skip seven numbers ahead, fed up, and begin to dig the knife all the way down her arm, pressing even harder. Her screams fill the room and echo around the walls, drowning out the impatient, loud knock on the door. Now the knife is at the palm of her hand….

"His name was Gale Hawthorne!" she suddenly blurts out, and then her eyes widen and her face goes pale. I smile and straighten up, then pull the knife out from the huge gash I just made in her arm.

"Thank you, Primrose." I say, and then walk out the door, leaving the bloody mess whimpering and sobbing behind me.

I open the door and the guard looks angry at first, but then shocked as he sees my knife that's covered in blood all the way up to the handle, and then my bloody hand. I hadn't realized I made such a mess.

"Did you get anything good?" he asks me, peering behind me to look at the sobbing girl.

"You might want to get her a nurse." I alert him. Don't want her bleeding to death. "And I need to see Landon."

The guard just nods and then leads me up the many flights of stairs until we're on the main level, where I get dirty looks from a lot of nurses. I pass Glimmer, who gasps, and then I pass Cato and Marvel, who grin. But I just ignore them, keeping my mind set on Landon, repeating the name over and over in my head. Gale Hawthorne. Gale Hawthorne. Gale Hawthorne.

When we get to Landon's office I knock once and then open the door before I get an answer. Landon is sitting at his desk and he looks up at me from a pile of papers, looking shocked.

"Clove?"

"We need to get Gale Hawthorne." I tell him immediately.

"Gale Hawthorne?" Landon looks at me, interested.

I nod. "Primrose tried to lie to me about him, I'm guessing he's very important, whoever he is."

Landon nods. "I've heard of him." Then he writes something down. "Gale Hawthorne. Did she tell you what relation he has to Katniss?"

I shake my head. "I couldn't get that far."

"That's alright, we'll have someone else look further into it. Meanwhile…go get yourself cleaned up." He says, gesturing to my bloody-ness. "Thank you, Clove."

I nod and then leave the room, heading towards my own to take a shower. I step into the hot water, smiling as I see the water turn red.

Just like the bloodbath it'll be when we win this damn war.