10/7/17

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The Manipulation Games 3: Rebellion

Chapter Five: Dead By Morning

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And so the days go by. I'm bored, and lonely, but there are worse things to suffer. It hasn't been quite as bad as I thought it would be, but knowing Snow he'll up the ante as time goes on. I'm not counting on this terrifying but peaceful state of existence lasting much longer, so I've begun to plan my escape. After all, Ava had to get in somehow. Surely the vents lead out somewhere.

Last night, I took my first tour of the vents. I found Annie's room, and Enobaria's as well, but Peeta's was nowhere to be seen. I even managed to make it to District 5's floor before deciding to turn back. Perhaps navigation of the vents should have been something I learned prior to the rebellion, but I never would have imagined the Training Center to be our place of imprisonment. Even when the thought crossed my mind, I mistakenly believed that Cashmere or Shey, who were much more adept at using the air-vents to travel, would still be alive to help me out, but both of the younger victors have been since been slaughtered by Snow's cruel Games.

(Or perhaps it was Enobaria and I who were responsible. Perhaps blaming Snow for our own actions in the arena is irresponsible, even when we had no choice. Perhaps Enobaria should have thought about Plutarch's misdirection more critically, and I should have clutched my ax a bit tighter as I raced towards Gloss's limp body.

Perhaps the issue isn't so black and white after all.)

My goal is to make my escape by the end of the week. Every day counts, certainly, but getting out as soon as possible won't do us any good if I don't plan ahead. Being hasty in my planning has caused senseless death in the past, and I refuse to let it define my future. The biggest issue is if I should take the others with me. I can leave sooner if I go solo, and I'll have a better chance of making it to District 13 as well. But what will happen to the others if I leave them behind?

Quite frankly, I'm upset. If it weren't for Everdeen and her "defender of the helpless" act, I wouldn't be this conflicted. I would've been more likely to act upon instinct rather than consider all the outcomes, as well as their effect on others. And while I agree that this is probably the best way, it's certainly not the easiest.

Someone knocks at my door for the first time since the night of Ava's visit. Not that anyone has needed to- I've been able to summon (albeit rationed) food to my room via the same machine that has always been in our rooms, and Snow knows better than to put me in too many of his stupid propaganda shots. So I can't imagine any reason why anyone would need me now. Especially since they've made it clear that solitary confinement is how they plan to punish me for having a conscience.

Nero opens the door, looking constipated as usual. How Ava managed to inherit so few of his crap genes is a mystery to me. Any traits she has in common with him, such as her light blue eyes and the shape of her nose, look different on her than they do on him. If the father and daughter were to stand next to each other, a stranger most likely wouldn't be ale to guess that they're related. Even I resemble my own father more, and to this day my relation to him probably remains a secret to most of Panem.

"Nero," I say, voice raspy from lack of use. "Why the heck are you here?"

"It is the request of President Snow that all captives be present for tonight's announcement. Against my better judgment."

I make sure he notices the way I roll my eyes. If Snow wants me to see this, it means he needs me to be alive for it. If Nero can't kill me, I may as well fill him with the desire to.

He cuffs me and drags me to the elevator. It seems odd seeing the place again after only being allowed in my (or rather Finnick's) room. I don't get to look for long though, as I'm soon pushed into the elevator. Nero presses the button with no consideration as to whether or not I would like to push it (the nerve!) and the horrible journey continues.

"There were reports of Peacekeepers hearing voices coming from your room. Would you happen to know what the source may be?"

I feel myself begin to panic, but I force myself to stay calm. Mediocre acting skills, don't fail me now!

"Are you talking about the time when the TV you losers supposedly cut power to randomly decided to turn itself on? Because otherwise it was probably me talking to my imaginary friend, Uranin."

"Uranin," Nero says, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah," I scoff. "It's a really common name in District 7. I got it from my 8th grade teacher, Mr. Compoop. He was great. I could've sworn you were related or something."

Nero scowls, probably not catching on. "Aren't you a little old to be playing games?"

Oh. He set himself up nicely this time.

"Not according to the Quarter Quell."

If looks could kill.

Nero doesn't even try to talk to me for the rest of the way there. Maybe a part of him knows how messed up things are, but even if that is the case its not likely that he'll do anything about it. And why should he? His life is the envy of Peacekeepers everywhere. He lives a life of luxury as one of Snow's head advisers. He would never give that up, nor would he consider it.

When we finally reach our destination, Snow's announcement is already "well" underway. Rather than being set where normal interviews are conducted, the setting of today's big failure is a new location entirely. I have a hard time believing that it was connected to the tribute center at all. The room is solid white, and is set up similar to how the stage was for the propaganda I filmed: a large white throne for Snow to sit on, placed on a white tile floor with roman style pillars surrounding him on either side and a podium covering his lower half. Vases of roses sit on top of the pillars, as well as at the base. A camera crew stands in front of him, filming the (apparently live) broadcast, with the footage being shown on a TV screen behind the camera crew. Annie and Enobaria stand under the TV, surrounded by Peacekeepers yet thankfully looking unharmed. Thought I wish I could say the same for Peeta.

He sits in a chair next to Snow, hand trembling and eyes bloodshot. His leg taps against the bottom of his chair to a beat with no particular pattern. Sweat glistens on his forehead, yet what scares me most is the look in his eyes. Anger, pure and uncontrolled, blazes through them, yet at the same time he seems distant. As though whatever has angered him is far, far, away and he would do anything to reach it. I find myself terrified of the boy I know to be completely harmless.

I take a deep breath and let Nero guide me over to the others, and let Annie hold my trembling hand in her own. Enobaria stands to the side on her own, scowling in Snow's direction. Silently, the three of us fearfully watch the Snow-Makes-Up-Bullcrap show with a new interest.

"It's the rebels," Peeta stutters, eyes shifting around the room. "They're the ones who are breaking your dams and burning your granaries. If you want someone to blame, then blame them, not the Capitol! Right now, we need to work together to save our civilization, before we destroy each other from the inside out!"

Suddenly, a buzz of static fills the air, and the eyes of both Peeta and Snow snap to the screen. I try to turn to look at what could be so interesting, but by the time I can turn around things have returned to normal.

Shaken, Peeta continues. "In addition to this, there… there was a bomb set at a water purification plant in District-"

Peeta is interrupted by more static. And this time, I hear a voice. One I was beginning to think I would never hear again.

"And the thing about little Rue is that this isn't the first time a child so young has sacrificed so much. Because of the Games, countless children like Rue are taken from us too soon, their lives forever stolen by Snow and his selfish idea of revenge."

I turn around and look at the screen, unable to speak.

"Finnick?" Annie whispers tearfully.

The image of Finnick is ripped from the screen, but the Capitol doesn't retain control of the broadcast for long. Soon, footage begins switching back and forth, from clips of the rebels to our panicked studio struggling to regain control. And believe me when I say Snow is ticked off. His face turns red as a tomato, and if you look closely enough you can almost see steam leaking from his ears. Of course, that would expose him as the heartless robot he is, so of course it's very easy to conceal. He gestures for the camera crew as the footage finally stops flashing back to rebel propaganda.

"Clearly, the rebels are now attempting to disrupt the dissemination of information they find incriminating. However, we are Panem! Truth and justice shall reign!"

A cameraman presses a button, and the sound of artificial clapping plays from a speaker on the side of the room. A chill passes over us, and I shudder.

"The broadcast shall resume as soon as security is reinstated. Peeta? Given tonight's demonstration, do you have any parting thoughts for Katniss Everdeen?"

Annie leans closer to me, holding a death grip on my arm. A Peacekeeper aims his gun at us, and I gulp and close my eyes.

"Katniss," Peeta whispers, as though her name alone brings him the strength to say his parting words. "How do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you, in Thirteen..."

I hear him, gasping for air, and I open my eyes. He's obviously in pain, but manages to choke out one final statement.

"Dead by morning!"

Chaos, more violent and loud, fills the room as Snow orders to cut the broadcast. Peacekeepers scuffle around the room, and Annie begins to hyperventilate. Peeta tries to continue speaking, but he is knocked to the ground by a Peacekeeper. Blood splatters on the tile as Annie begins to scream. Terrified, I try to pull her closer yet, but she is ripped away from me by a Peacekeeper who starts dragging her away.

"Annie!" I screech as Nero grabs me by the shoulders. He pulls on my arms, and I feel something snap as pain surges through my muscles.

He ties something around me, effectively holding my arms in place, and drags me in the direction they took Annie. I whip my head around and clamp my jaw around his shoulder, sinking my teeth into his skin. His blood seeps into my mouth as I flail my legs around, kicking him when possible. Nero pulls me off of him and throws my limp body against a wall, and begins kicking me in the chest.

I grit my teeth and hold in a scream. I try to focus on breathing as he tosses me over his shoulder and carries me away. My legs feel numb, perhaps even broken, but I can't remember Nero doing anything to them. I take a deep breath and blink back tears. Everything hurts, but I stay stony faced.

Never let him see you cry, never let him see you cry, never let him see you cry….

I suck in my breath as the sound of screams gets louder, and Nero tosses me against yet another wall. This time, he doesn't pick me back up. Instead, I hear his footsteps exit the room. I breath in, and out, and open my eyes. I'm in a cell, large and plain and white, with no windows or beds, and a drain in the middle of the room that I assume to be exactly what I'm worried it is. From the adjoining cell, I can faintly hear Enobaria panicking as she desperately tries to wake Peeta up.

I wiggle my arms out of my broken restraints, and slowly lift myself off the floor. I sit up for a moment, breathing deeply, before I hear faint whimpering. I turn around, and I instantly feel relief in spite of my current situation. Curled up in the corner, in the fetal position with her hands covering her ears, is Annie.

I crawl over to her, shaking her shoulder lightly. "Are you okay Scatterbrain?"

The question comes out as more of a wheeze than normal human speech, but it doesn't matter. She wouldn't have heard me. Not while she's out like this, anyways. I back away to give her space, but I keep an eye on her to make sure she's breathing. If something happened to her, who knows what Finnick would do?

The fact that we're still alive shocks me to my core.

"Are you? Are you?" Annie whispers, what appears to be a song. "Coming to the tree. They strung up a man, they say he murdered three."

"Annie?" I ask.

I don't get an answer, and for a moment there's complete silence. I can't help but wonder, is there any hope of escape now? And if there isn't, what will happen to us now? They can't possibly know where we are, and even if they did wouldn't it be too much of a risk to make? If the Mockingjay were here, maybe they'd come for us, but since she's safe there's no point, is there?

I hear Peeta's voice.

"Strange things did happen here no stranger would it be, if we met, at midnight, in the hanging tree."

…

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games

Hi again! Sorry I took so long! Life's been busy, and I had writers block. But I think I'm back now. Besides, NaNoWriMo is coming up, so I might get a lot written during then. Key word being might, since I didn't even come close to wining last year, but I'm still going to try.

Thank you Caracal the SandWing for adding this story to your favorites, as well as to anyone else who followed, favorited, or reviewed.

Quote of the day!

"If you're going to call me names, I would prefer Ross: The Divorce Force. It's just cooler." -Ross, Friends

May the odds be ever in your favor,

Spectrobes Princess