12/13/17

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or anything else I may mention

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The Manipulation Games 3: Rebellion

Chapter Eight: Fire

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That night I lay curled up in my cell, listening to the sounds of Peeta's anguished screams. Annie lays pressed up against me, already fast asleep and spared from the painful sound. Enobaria whimpers for him to stop, and I pull Annie closer.

"Katniss! She- she's a mutt! Katniss- she did this! She- we need to stop her! Stop her! Katniss! Help… Katniss!"

I shudder, burying my nose in the thick brown curls on top of Annie's head. She sighs in her sleep, and for a moment I'm worried she'll wake up. But she continues to sleep, and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in.

The screams have been going on for an hour or so now. At first, Peeta's screams were wordless, high pitched shrieks. Those were almost bearable. But as time has went on, more words have been added to the mix. Jumbled, mixed up syllables with no meaning turned to words, which began to form sentences. And the longer he's been speaking sentences, the more twisted and disturbing the sentences have become.

I'm willing to admit the unthinkable. I'm scared. Not just scared- terrified. And it's not just because of Peeta. The entire situation has me petrified in fear. I'm worried that I'll go to sleep and I won't wake up. And what scares me even more is that honestly it may be preferable to waking up and facing another day of this agony. And I know that my parents wouldn't be proud of me for thinking like that, especially not with the rebellion going on, but I can't help it. I've spent every moment of the past few weeks in fear of what will happen next, and the unknown is terrifying. All I want is to leave, and I want to do whatever it takes to escape. But I know that the only way out is to betray the rebels.

It's a hopeless situation, no matter what I do.

Footsteps echo throughout the hallway, and I pry myself from Annie. She stirs in her sleep, whimpering a bit, but remains asleep. I pray that it's a member of the rebellion, coming here to rescue us, but in my heart I already know that it's not the case. The footsteps grow louder as I stand to my feet. My legs wobble as my whole body trembles in fear, and I push the palm of my hand against a wall for support. Peeta's screams continue, louder than ever.

"Johanna?" Annie's voice whispers. Crap.

My hands clench into fists. "Go back to sleep, scatterbrain. This doesn't concern you."

"Johanna, what's going on?" she whimpers. Her breaths quicken, slowly turning into more of a wheeze. Not a good sign.

The door swings open, which is even less of a good sign, and Nero calmly steps in. He cocks his gun and smirks as Annie backs into the corner. He aims the gun at my heart and narrows his eyes.

"What happened to not killing me yet?" I say, scowling in spite of my fear.

Nero glares, lowering the gun and producing a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. He silently slaps them onto my wrists. I bite my lips and turn my head to Annie. Her hands are over her ears, and her eyes are clamped shut. It must be an easier day for her flashbacks.

I'm shocked that they haven't messed with her yet. Probably because they figure she has nothing to tell them. She's not stupid though- she knows so much more about the rebellion than Finnick and Mags knew she did. The other victors of District 4 wanted to leave her out of it in case of a situation such as this, but when she was the only one in the room she was always eager to help. Sure, she was always careful as to what she learned during these strategic meetings, leaving the most sacred and important details to those of us with less fragile minds, but she still knows several key details, some of which even I'm out of the loop for. She's always been good at keeping up a facade of being less stable than she actually is, and right now it's working to her benefit. Why would the rebels tell anything to poor, mad Anastasia Cresta, let alone allow her to make important strategic decisions? Honestly, I'm jealous.

Sometimes I wonder what things would've been like had I kept up my own facade. If I had somehow managed to make it through my Hunger Games without turning vicious and revealing my true self to the Capitol. While I do still have an act of the loud-mouthed, rebellious girl who always says what's on her mind, it's much closer to who I really am and more likely to get me in trouble. Perhaps if I kept up my act of the sweet little girl who was always so close to breaking down into tears, the Capitol wouldn't have expected me to be hiding anything either. I know it was always a shock for new victors to discover that most of the victors typically labeled as "Capitol loyalists" actually had such big roles in the rebellion (such as Cashmere and Gloss or Angus), but they were never surprised to discover that Blight and I were on the front lines. Perhaps if we had been quieter, we wouldn't have been targeted so much.

Or maybe that's just my fear talking, making me think things that I never would have considered otherwise. It wouldn't be the first time it has happened today.

Nero opens the door to the other cell and shoves me in with the butt of his gun. He forces me into the chair, and as he's strapping me in I spit in his face. He doesn't react.

Nero walks over to a table that has been added to the side of the cell. On the table, there's a box of matches and a pile of fire wood. Oddly, I didn't notice it before, which surprises me because it sticks out like a sore thumb. He picks up one of the matches and walks back over to me, swiping the match on the edge of the chair. A small flame flickers to life at the action, jumping around on the small wooden stick. Honestly, what's he going to do? Burn me to death with that little thing? Please, how pathetic. A two year old could do better than that.

"The rebels," he begins, watching the flame intently, "seem to have a preoccupation with fire. And I can see why. Fire is random. Destructive. Once fire touches something, it will never be the same again. But we from the Capitol know what all of the Districts and Rebels seem to have forgotten. Fire can not save anything. And nothing can be saved from fire. Once fire touches something, it doesn't just change it- it destroys it. Tell me, Johanna, are you really so blind, so… naive, that you've tricked yourself into thinking that the Girl On Fire can save you?"

"I don't need saving," I spit. Which, you know, is pretty obviously a lie, but I can't let him know how scared I am right now. That would mean letting him win, and at this point I'm more concerned with being petty than I am with self preservation.

Nero laughs. "Oh, is that so?"

I glare at him, daring him to make another childish threat.

Taking the match, he walks with it over to the firewood and (after a few unsuccessful tries) sets it on fire. He smirks, leaving the room as the flames begin to flicker to life. The fire spreads, slowly taking more control of the wood. It grows, becoming larger and larger by the second. Suddenly, the face of Katniss Everdeen appears in the flames. This isn't normal fire- that much is obvious. The Capitol must have engineered it, just like Everdeen's stylist engineered that fake fire for the Tribute Parade. It doesn't really have the effect they want it to, though. I'm more amused that they tried than anything.

And then, the real reason for the flames becomes painfully, obviously clear. And I wish the fake fire was all they had in store for me.

With the push of a button, the sprinkler system turns on.

It starts light at first, only dripping a bit, but soon it turns into a downpour. The drips of water cascade onto the cuffs, soaking and shocking me at the same time. My entire body trembles, begging for this to stop. I begin panicking, loosing my grip on reality. I must be. The fire's still here. The water didn't put it out. Why wouldn't the water put it out?

Katniss glowers at me smugly as Nero's voice fills the room. "You see Johanna, the fire will not help you. It only wishes to hurt you. The Capitol- we're the true friend of the districts. We wish to rule with an iron rod, yes, but only for your protection. You've seen the chaos that emerges when the districts are allowed even a slither of power. Imagine what would happen if you were in charge. And the rebels? Why, they only want to cause that chaos. We're the heroes here, Johanna. We just want to save everyone. The Games are for your own good, and the good of everyone. And all you have to do to help these poor, unfortunate, pitiful souls, is to tell us about the rebellion. Every. Last. Detail."

I scream as I lose the feeling in my limbs. My head begins to feel light, and I feel like I'm going to black out.

Nero begins to speak again. "Oh, but I didn't tell you the best part, did I? You see Johanna, if you tell us everything, we won't have a reason to keep you here, will we? Being the kind and generous souls we are here at the Capitol, we have decided that the moment you tell us everything, we'll set you free. So what do you say? Would you rather do the right thing, or suffer the consequences?"

"I… I..." I pant, struggling to form a coherent thought. "I'll never tell you anything!"

The electricity grows stronger as Nero's laughter fills the room.

…..

Hi again! Happy late Thanksgiving! I hope everyone had a good one! And if for some reason I don't update before Christmas, merry early Christmas!

I don't know if any of you were reading my other Hunger Games fanfiction, Reading the Hunger Games, but unfortunately that one was recently taken down due to it violating the site rules. I misinterpreted the rule about posting stories like that (I thought it was only referring to posting parts of other people's fanfictions with comments added to it, not doing that with the source material), otherwise I wouldn't have even posted it to begin with. I'm going to write an epilogue for it to tie up loose ends though, so keep an eye out for that in the near future! I just thought I'd give anyone who read that story a heads up.

Quote of the day!

"Time to play the annual Thanksgiving guessing game: Guess the mystery meat!" -My sister

May the odds be ever in your favor,

Spectrobes Princess