Hey everyone, Paradigm of Writing here with a brand new chapter of Sheep Led to Slaughter, Chapter #38: Innocence of the Lambs. Last time, in the arena, we had a lot of things going on, mainly where the Careers awoke a sentient, mutt trash can that tried to kill them, Colt has plummeted down to the deep end, and Annabellina broke away from the chains that Abe held onto which kept her trapped, she sacrificing herself to destroy the mutt that would've wiped out all of the Careers. In the Capitol chapter prior, Hector has been let in on some plans, Bonnie has come into a saddening realization, and Hale has seen the worst levels of betrayal. This will be another Capitol chapter storyline, and then we're back to the arena - be praying for that Top 5 spot, ladies and gentlemen - and I hope you all have your dramatic glasses on. Enjoy Chapter #38: Innocence of the Lambs.
The One Who Loses His Ability To Speak
He hears her clamoring down the hall before her voice even reaches the fringes of his office door. It is the sound of her heels slamming onto the tile with such ferocity, it makes him believe that there is a gigantic bear running down the hall instead. Though he knows she'll never do anything to hurt him, not in the way Lewlyn used to, his heart still beats in his chest at the speed of a coyote's run. One of her hands grips the edge of his open door like a claw, with talons extending out to slash his face.
The angered face of Bonnie Rodney shoots out behind his open door, a satanic expression behind an angelic wall of white, a movement so sudden that he jumps back in his chair slightly. "Rennie Davis!" the first lady screams his name again, as she had been calling it and saying it as loud as she could ever since he first heard her footsteps.
She comes into the room, slamming his door shut, and Rennie scrambles to catch the cup of pens that begins to tip over due to the shockwave of the slammed door. Bonnie's blonde hair is long and down today, as she's usually had it in a short bob over the last few days, and Rennie appreciates the change, as it allows for the shadows to fall on her neck and illuminate her beauty in a stronger way.
With the trash can mutt dying yesterday due to Annabellina's interference, Rennie has had zero work to do on the Mutt Creation team, essentially leaving Bonnie jobless as well, except she normally likes to strut around in the Gamemaker Center and tick off Lewlyn whenever she can, strutting around in the platinum spray painted high heels instead of learning how to run her country. He had been given a rather miniature office in the back corner of the building, a good five to ten minute walk depending on hallway congestion, from one end to the other. Ever since he drops the red clothing, which has now been a full week, into a dirty heap on his bedroom floor - the clothes are probably covered in ants or some other repulsive thing from the bug kingdom by now - Rennie is elevated upwards from an Avox role, and actually given an actual position that gives him a door and a manila plaque with his name written on it.
The swell of pride in his chest when Lewlyn orders a few workers to drill it into the door is a moment he'll never forget, watching as a piece, albeit small, is given back to him. The fame he used to have, of the melodies that he'd create with a few back-and-forth motions of his hand, gripping the violin ever so gently. Now, whenever he looks at his violin, all he sees is the copper remnants, the remnants from years ago, years he can't get back; the melodious noises he used to experience, the melodious noises he used to hear... they're now just cat scratches on a brick wall, accompanied by Bonnie screaming his name.
"Rennie!" she shouts again, and he lapses out of his thought, jumping once more, his knee hitting the desk. The container of pens tumble onto the floor, and for a split second, the president's wife's eyes follow said trajectory, and in that moment in time, Rennie gets a glimpse of her wrath, a wrath he'd never expect to see, a wrath he'd never want to be on the blunt end of ever again.
He's been practicing the sign language book that Lewlyn had given him, she trying to converse with her brother on the regular in said form rather than speaking. She, as Head Gamemaker, sent out a memo to every Capitol official who'd have even the slightest interaction with him in their life to try out the language practice, instead of forcing her brother to type out his sentences on the pad.
It seems the memo never reached Bonnie's desk.
He signs the word for 'what', at which his boss furrows her eyebrows together, and one eye stays directly focused on the pencil container on the ground.
"What on Earth are you doing?" she shakes her head in confusion.
Rennie lowers his hands, a lump forming in his throat. For how much Bonnie seems to claim to care for him, she sure as hell doesn't show it anymore. Not like she used to, at the very least. She cannot even be bothered to try, and that is what cuts him up the most, he thinks, but he doesn't truthfully know anymore at this point. She isn't the same woman he fell in love with years ago, and she hasn't been for a very long time.
He unlatches one of the desk drawers in which he keeps the tablet, fingers flying away. Rennie has to look onto the bright side of things, at the very least. His mutilation and subsequent slavery, which is something he is coming to terms with using as the label, with using the table to talk to others, has made him a very good typist. If anyone ever needs a secretary to type out emails and notices and memos and what have you, Rennie Davis is the guy.
It's Panemian sign language. For those who aren't Avoxes and cannot speak, which is what being mute is, you learn this language to communicate.
Bonnie raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "How come I've never heard of it?"
You don't hang out with the mute crowd, I'm assuming, Bonnie. He appreciates a bit of her naivety, but Rennie doesn't clutch his pearls to his chest like he used to, like how Lewlyn still sort of does. His sister and the first lady have a lot in common, despite both never wanting to be in the same room together, and their naivety is going to get them both killed.
She locks her jaw. "Fair point."
Lewlyn gave me a book on how to sign. Now, if someone wants to speak to me without it taking forever, I can just do this.
A chill runs up and down his arms, and Rennie can bet all the other appendages that are still his own that it is when the name of his sister slides out of his mouth that she goes on the warpath. Bonnie's face darkens immeasurably, and she clenches her hand into a fist, a sneer distorting her features. "Lewlyn, your sister..." she mutters. "The whore who constantly is finding ways to tether you to her since she loved your cock so much!" Bonnie howls.
That has gone too far, and now it is personal.
Rennie's blood screams to volcanic temperatures, and his entire body heats up. It is in no way, shape or form Bonnie Rodney's place to call his sister any of those names or say any of those accusations. He wants to scream, he wants to douse her in coffee and oil and light a match and laugh as her skin gets set ablaze, but Rennie stills his hand, and lets Bonnie squeeze her eyes shut so she can compose herself.
That's not fair to say, is the only response Rennie can think of, but as soon as she opens her eyes again, he hits the backspace button on the tablet to erase the message. He does not need to add more fuel to the fire than what he has already caused. The vengeful trio of his sister, his first lady, and his one night stand are already catastrophic enough to burn down the entire Capitol and the rest of Panem as it is.
Bonnie pinches the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. "I didn't come by to insult your sister," he hears her mutter, and she continues to shake her head, clearing away the debris and the gunk that clouds her judgement. She looks back at him, and he realizes that she's holding a folder in her right hand, which he hadn't even noticed when she walks in, focused directly on how her hands turn into fists at the drop of a hat. "I came here for you," Bonnie says, and her tone is not warm, there isn't the slightest hint of motherly intentions vibrating in the syllables that she speaks. "You committed treason."
Rennie's eyes widen. Treason is not a word that simply gets thrown around like a common phrase. Not from Bonnie Rodney's own mouth, either. He staggers back, grabbing the tablet, holding it to his chest like a protective shield, typing out as quick as he can. What do you mean?
"This!" Bonnie exclaims, throwing the folder down onto his desk, wrenching it open.
He doesn't need to lean over to read what it says, as Rennie can see the two pictures poking out given their appearance on the page as it is; his mouth goes dry, and his elbows firm up. What is that?
"Evidence," she runs a hand through her hair. "Just like I had mentioned to my husband and Lewlyn, with you being the only other person who knew this common fact, there were two mutts in the arena. The butterfly in the botanical garden that killed Edwin by slicing his throat open with its proboscis, and the trash can that chased Caiden around, got awoken by the Careers yesterday, and very same one which Annabellina destroyed with her flamethrower canister," Bonnie leans into the file. "Two mutts, one lethal, one non-lethal. Calhoun and Lewlyn are the only other two people who knew this information," she tilts her head to the side, like a cat, but again, there's zero empathy or curiosity in this motion. Simply coldness, and he feels that freezing stare lance directly through his heart. "The butterfly that killed Edwin was the lethal mutation. Should someone have stepped into the botanical garden and wanted to leave, the butterfly was honed to kill the target. Edwin destroyed it in his final moments, meaning our lethal mutt died. The trash can we created wasn't lethal," her eyes alighted a dangerous diamond, as if there was a miniature sun hidden behind her iris and blocked out by her pupil. "Please, tell me, Rennie, how one of our mutts we created all of a sudden becomes lethal and dangerous when its code had never been designed that way?"
Rennie is glad that he no longer has a tongue, otherwise he would've bitten it by now, he'd have torn it clear off and bled onto the pristine white tile everywhere. He glances outside his window for a brief second, to stare at the rose bush. Part of him desires to run over and break through the glass, seize a rose, and stab Bonnie in the gut with it. It'd turn him into a tribute, one of the seven left fighting for their life, and then Rennie could battle Peacekeepers to the death if he wanted to.
It was a desire, nothing more.
He cares for Bonnie too much to do that.
I don't know. You tell me. You're the one accusing me of something... you have the audacity to do such a thing.
Bonnie has the audacity to tilt her head back and laugh. "Audacity? No one else, Rennie, had the access to these mutts except for you and I. I didn't even know that the mutt chased Caiden in the arena two days ago when it did until yesterday after I saw a highlight reel, as I had been with Pollux that night. So, two days ago, at least, someone twisted the mutation code to turn it into a weapon, and it wouldn't have been me. It was you."
You're dead wrong, Bonnie.
She sneers at him again. "You're all mad at me for not sucking your dick, aren't you? Pollux bowed down to you and worshiped you, and since I'm not doing that, you want to get back at my hard work by tainting it. You've always lusted after me, you were never good at hiding it. What would my husband say? The Avox who has already committed treason once for forging documents, then tries to kiss the first lady, and now tampers with a Hunger Games... I can see Calhoun ripping the flesh off of your back."
Another urge to scream comes out of Rennie's mouth, but instead it is steam pouring out of his ears. Me? I lusted after you? You know I didn't forge any fucking document! You cornered me in the main room last week and tried to kiss me, and I stopped you. How dare you!
Bonnie shook her head again, clucking her tongue. "Who'd believe you, Rennie? The loved Capitol princess, who is pregnant with the president's child, or an Avox who couldn't stop his sister from screwing him?" she walked up to him, resting a hand on his shoulder, and Rennie's skin bristles with electricity. Even now, with how repulsed he is by her, and with what she is saying, he is drawn to her like bees to honeycomb, and he wants to lick it all up before taking the largest bite out of it, which would drain the forbidden queen of all the liquidous life that allows her to rule. "It'd be easier if you just told me the truth, and I won't have you charged with treason. I won't tell another soul of this. You tampered and tried to rig the Games because you were upset with me not accepting your advances."
Rennie knows that can't be true. It just- it can't. He seizes the tablet, typing a thousand miles a minute. It couldn't be me.
"And how is that?"
I have an alibi. I was at my sister's room that entire evening after work ended learning the sign language book she had given me.
"If I don't believe that, no one will. You do understand me, right?" Bonnie frowns, her eyes dismally sad.
Rennie recalls what it had been like pressing his fingers up against his throat and squeezing as hard as he did, just to get murderous and treasonous Pollux off of his back, at the way his eyes expanded, and how the tent in his pants rose higher and higher until it hurt to strain himself. Just what it would feel like right now if Rennie were to press his hands up against Bonnie's throat? What would that freedom give him? He could take her now, do the unspeakable action that all men have over women... and he wants it, he lusts for it more than he lusts for her.
Instead, Rennie frowns, shrugging his shoulders. I used to think you were the most wonderful woman in the world, yet in the matter of a week, you've singularly destroyed this side of you. My opinion of you has changed.
"How so?" Bonnie licks her lips, shaking the long locks of her blonde hair.
You're a monster. And I can't get enough of it, but I want zero part of you.
The first lady raises her eyebrows, picking up the folder with the pictures of the mutts. "I give you until the interview with the victor of this year's Games to come crawling back to me, Rennie. After that... you're on your own," she makes another step towards the door, pausing, just like when she had come in, with one hand gripping the edge of the door frame with her talon-like claws. "I'd watch your back, if I were you, Rennie. I know that there are many people in this Capitol who think you're just so innocent, that you're this sweet little lamb, but know this," she narrows her eyes. "I see right through you, for the cunning son of a bitch you are, and next time you think to double cross me like this, I'll make sure Calhoun takes more than just your tongue."
The sound of her heels clicking and clacking on the hallway tile resume, and Rennie stands in the corner of his office frozen.
A few seconds later, the puke appears, the vomit comes out, and he's too late to do anything about it.
What has he done?
Kevia Janelle: Victor of the 84th Hunger Games P.O.V
Of all the ways she expects her breakfast to end, Kevia Janelle of the District 1 is able to confidently say that she did not expect it to end with Hale Cornerstone's elbow jutting into her neck, she slammed up against a brick wall outside of the Viewing Center. None of the Peacekeepers donning their white outfits do anything to help, and a few of the victors that are still here walking to and from only give an odd glance or two towards the ladies, and resume their business as if nothing has happened.
Hale's eyes blaze and burn, one hand crooked and digging into her skin as the elbow is currently at mid-throat, and the other raised into a fist, more than likely aimed at her head, and Kevia does not want to take any more pills to help her sleep. She doesn't need sleeping aids if a concussion is going to do it to her. One minute she is throwing away her polystyrene cup filled with orange juice, the next it is slapped out of her hand - which splatters all over her new designed outfit by the District 1 stylist team - and Kevia wrestles briefly with some unknown assailant, eyes falling onto Hale's enraged body, and the victor from One goes lax for a split second, enough for the other victor to get the upper hand.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Hale screams at her, and if looks could kill, Kevia would be an incinerated pile of bones at this point.
"What are you talking about?" Kevia barely chokes out of her system, trying to push Hale off of her, but it hardly seems to move her an inch. She needs to back into the gym if she cannot push weak Hale Cornerstone off of her, or otherwise it means she is really out of practice.
Hale digs into her pocket, ripping out a typed sheet of paper, and Kevia steals a glance over at it, unable to really read any of the writing. "This! You were going to throw Arizona and I under the bus!"
Kevia's heart sinks, looking at the typed letter that in the other victor's hands is the same one that she had created and had been thinking of sending to Bonnie. The fact that a married relationship between two victors not of the same district existed through Hale and Arizona's bond, and Kevia was about to send her fellow victors up the river. She didn't want to create it, honest to god, as she had been backed into a corner and didn't see a way out of it.
"I- I wasn't, I really wasn't..." Kevia babbles out. She's wanted this, she's wanted the spotlight, she's wanted the love... she's wanted what she's never been able to have, and then comes waltzing in onto the ballroom floor is Hale Cornerstone, beautiful in every way, attracting the man that she's had her eye on, and now the two get to live happily ever after in a world where they don't follow the rules, despite everyone else doing the same thing.
"No?" Hale releases some of the pressure on Kevia's neck, giving her a bit of breathing room. "No? Then what would this look like, then, huh? You trying to blackmail me for something? You were going to rat Ari and I out to Bonnie, for some selfish, disgusting reason, I bet."
"I didn't have a choice!" the victor pleads.
She hopes no one else is paying attention to the scene. Whenever Kevia tries to look away, at anything other than Hale, truthfully, the other victor grips her face and forces her to look directly into the stare of the devil herself. Satan is a woman, whether Kevia wants to believe it or not. Flashbacks to when she had been younger, the idealistic Career in the arena, and much more naïve, Kevia's blood turns to ice. She's on her knees, begging for her district partner not to leave the alliance so the others don't hunt him down in the middle of the night. She grips that boy's hand so hard Kevia nearly rips it off when he moves away, a stunning eighteen year-old with blonde hair that covers his dark eyes in a way that makes her body ache, but ultimately she is unsuccessful, and four days later, a Career alliance of her and District 2 stab her old partner in the chest with a trident at different directions, since when he left, he took a gigantic amount of their food with him.
She is here now, getting to her knees, begging for forgiveness, begging for freedom like some dog, and Hale Cornerstone holds the power?
Kevia wants it, wants what this meek girl from District 2 is somehow able to hold onto.
"Didn't have a choice?" Hale mocks her. "How did you even know about he and I in the first place?"
"It's not like you hid it from everyone very well!"
All Kevia can think about, as she screams at her fellow victor, is how Hale could've even found out. Her mind immediately hones in on Lance, the bastard. Not every victor that is alive knows about her and Arizona, but Kevia is pretty sure a sizeable chunk do, and are all simply put at the appeasement of her or Arizona, in some way shape or form. Blackmail, if she wants to go so far. She knows that they have children, but beyond that, nothing.
"So you don't deny it?" Hale eyes the other female victor. "You don't deny trying to throw me under the bus? That you were going to send me up the river in a box?"
Kevia shakes her head back and forth. "I was cornered, Hale. Bonnie wanted information, or otherwise I was to be punished-"
"Punished?" the victor from District 2 interrupts. "For what?"
"I- I stole her grandmother's necklace and she found out through some pictures. She was going to tell Calhoun about it, and she wouldn't if I told her something treasonous instead. I still haven't told her a thing, I swear it, I swear it, I swear it!" Kevia is grappling at Hale's wrist, skidding out on the tile floor, squeaking noises coming from the soles of her shoes as Kevia is unable to get a firm footing on anything. Hale's sneer of disgust is what stabs Kevia through the heart the most, as even though Kevia knows she can't stand the girl for the life of her, they had a connection, and Kevia had been ready to sell it in a heartbeat. "I was even thinking about tearing up the letter..."
Hale takes a step back, closing her eyes, and exhales deeply. She extends her head to the ceiling, all the while Kevia curls up into herself on the floor, wanting to burst into tears. If Lance, Bonnie, or her father could see her now... "To think I thought we might have been somewhat friends..." Hale scoffs, shaking her head, a smile dancing on her lips, but not one of the normal ones, not one that may have had happiness in it at some point. "I know we certainly didn't get along, like when we had lunch, but this whole time you were going to stab me in the back..." Hale bites on the inside of her cheek. "You think all of us victors, for going through the same horrific experience of winning the Hunger Games would all want to stick together and be there for each other, but instead, we're all rivals trying to stay in the presidential favor..."
She tears the letter into a million tiny pieces, letting them rain down onto Kevia's head, the paper mixing in with the tears that are starting to flow down her cheeks. A cavernous hole appears in her chest, whenever Kevia tries to breathe, she's unable to fully push that breath of power out of her, and she chokes on air again. "I'm sorry..." she sobs. "I'm so sorry..."
"You aren't sorry. If you were, you would've never even written the letter to begin with."
"What- what can I do to have you forgive me?" Kevia babbles, looking up at hale through her muddled stare, as images begin to blur together and she's unable to see what Hale looks like, glowering down at her.
Hale crouches down to Kevia's level, balancing on one leg, resting her arm across it. She places a warm hand up against Kevia's face. "You can die, Kevia. If I ever think you're going to do this to me again, I'll kill you the same way you killed your district partner," she digs a few fingers into the soft flesh, and the other victor's body crawls in terror. "You can go and die. That is how I'll forgive you," she stands back up. "My family and I are off limits. I never, ever, want to speak to you again..."
Not even as much as giving Kevia a kick, or another glance in her direction, Hale walks back into the Viewing Center with the other remaining victors, all the while Kevia pawns at the floor, picking up the shredded pieces of paper that could've caused the doom of a woman she envies so much. Hale Cornerstone, with her perfect fucking husband, with her perfect fucking kids, and her perfect fucking life that she never had to work for.
Kevia's heart won't stop beating, and she knows that sooner or later she'll have to projectile vomit into a trash can at some point.
What is she going to tell Bonnie now? What secret could she possibly find out in the next few days before Bonnie marches her down to the executioner's block?
The road to hell is paved with good intentions... and Kevia has just found the snake in sheep's clothing, the innocent lamb that had truthfully not been that innocent.
Another hour ticks, and the pressure of the Capitol draws ever so near.
Well, ladies and gentlemen, it is certainly good to be back. I did not expect to enjoy this chapter as much as I did - especially Rennie and Bonnie's banter, as both of these scenes were ones in my initial plot creation I didn't intend to have, but I feel like including them has made this experience so much better - but here we are, with Chapter #38: Innocence of the Lambs, who it turns out, might not be so innocent.
Did Rennie actually do something to the mutt data as a way to get back to Bonnie and her scheming? They seem to be at odds, but she's a craving he clearly cannot get enough of... and ooh boy I want to spoil so much for ya'll, but I just can't. I like characters in which Kevia is one of those, who talks the talk but cannot walk the walk, for I know how much of you - which would literally be two people out of all the reviewers who actually read these chapters lol - like Hale's character, she just had to lay down the law; she and Arizona and her children are not bargaining tools or chips to play poker with. She doesn't roll like that.
I have every chapter update planned out as to when I want them done, as there are thirteen chapters left to write, and both plots are super close to coming to a close. Remember, the final five chapter is going to be #41, so if you do not have a top three pick for whom your tribute, should they be alive at that point, are voting for, please get that into me via PM. I would absolutely love a review you guys, where you think may the story is heading, how's the writing and characters and plot, and whatever else you want, as you guys reviewing makes my day.
I will see you all next Friday - oh so hopefully - with Chapter #39: Five Hundred Degrees Fahrenheit, which will be another arena chapter, Day 7, where we are ironically, on Day 7, down to the final seven tributes left alive, and clearly nobody's safe. Chapter #40 will also once again be resuming the Capitol storyline, but obviously we'll reach that when we get there. I hope you guys have an amazing day! I love you all so much! Bye!
~ Paradigm