Chapter 45: Eye to Eye
TW: Graphic depictions of eye trauma and torture
At the third long, low wail of the horn from behind her, Venatrix stopped dead in her tracks. "Idris," she said slowly, not bothering to turn around, "if you don't cut that out, I will throw that thing into the river, and you along with it."
"Oh no, not the river!"
Not in the mood for his sarcasm, Venatrix turned around, the rest of the pack halting behind her. "We are supposed to be hunting for tributes," she said testily, fixing him with a hard stare. The horned helmet he'd donned from their Cornucopia loot only made him look more ridiculous, the bandages wrapped around his injured shoulder even more of a liability. She buried the thought beneath gritted teeth. "Thanks to you, everyone within a ten-kilometer radius will know where we are."
"I think that's the point of the horn," Idris said matter-of-factly, and Percy and Mariposa exchanged a glance; Viper, an unashamed eye-roll.
"Then quit it, will you?" Venatrix snapped.
To say she was regretting bringing him along was an understatement. She'd only included him and Shannon because they hadn't made any kills yet. Viper, she wanted to keep a close eye on, and Percy and Mariposa, well. That was self-explanatory.
Idris blew a raspberry, twirling the horn around his wrist by the strap. "What are they gonna do, run away and hide?"
"Come on, let him have a little fun," Viper added, mouth curling into an amused smirk at her irritation.
Venatrix shot him a glare. "If they run away," she said through clenched teeth, "then we can't kill them. And if we can't kill them—" her sharp gaze swerved back to Idris— "if you can't kill, then why are you here?"
Here in the Games. Here in the pack. Venatrix hadn't clarified, and she didn't intend to.
In the following silence, only the crunch of feet shifting atop the gravelly riverbank was audible, the faraway rustling of wind through the pines. Without his district partner to snap to his defense, Idris looked like a fish out of water, and he seemed to realize it too when not even Viper matched his fading grin. Similarly, Shannon uneasily fiddled with his weapon, but Venatrix's ire remained locked on the Four boy; Shannon wasn't the one hard-set on making a fool out of them all.
It's high time we all started taking this seriously. No more jokes, no more ditzing around. Her mistakes from the mock Games nagged at the forefront of her mind, and Venatrix didn't intend to repeat either of them. "Idris. If you are so sure there is no possible danger of an ambush from anyone who might have heard us coming," she said, crossing her arms, "then why don't you take point?"
That changed his tune. Ignoring Viper's scoff of derision, Venatrix's pointed attention lingered on her dumbstruck ally. Did he really not consider that? "Oh, nah, I think I'm actually—"
"No, really, I insist."
Arm outstretched, Venatrix gestured for Idris to take her place. Hesitantly, he shuffled forward; it wasn't like their path along the riverbank was a difficult one to discern. Still, though, even when he'd nearly been defeated by Zavian, Venatrix had never seen the Four boy look so unsure.
Venatrix knew why she was here. It didn't matter to her if Idris didn't.
If he did run them into any traps, he'd be the first to fall, as Ilya had during the winter mocks. As much of a fuss as the others had made over training scores, a ten hadn't stopped Grethel or Viper from raking in their fair share of kills. Briefly, Venatrix wondered if it would be better to keep Idris or Shannon from claiming theirs. Should've thought of that before we left, though the idea was as pointless as it was petty.
Percy fell in step with her at the rear of the pack as the Four boy picked up their pace back to a trot with a too-flippant shrug. Clearly, her friend sensed her irritation; she'd be surprised if anyone didn't. "I don't trust him not to lead us off a cliff," Percy said once they were out of earshot of the others.
"Only an idiot could fall off a cliff in a valley," she quipped stiffly.
"My point exactly."
Venatrix huffed a mean laugh before wisely changing topics. "I miss Agate. She's actually good company."
"I'd trade her for Eating-Rocks-well any day," Percy snipped, and she snorted again.
"While we're at it, I'll trade Viper for Iago too."
"And Patience for Lance."
"Mariposa can stay, though," Venatrix added. "And the Threes, I don't mind them."
Percy hummed in agreement, halfway-wistful. "Not in the real Games, though," he said after a minute. "Our friends, I mean."
She nodded, and the conversation peetered off.
The hunting party returned to silence, save for exhales of effort and Idris's mindless humming from a few paces ahead. Viper and Shannon trailed behind him, the former's auburn head turning to his fellow every once in a while to whisper something inaudible to Venatrix's ears. Mariposa walked alone between the pairs; the blonde girl seemed lost in thought, or focused on their task, Venatrix couldn't tell. Her friend's eyes scanned the slowly-churning river more frequently than the others, ever-vigilant for any sign of their quarry.
The downward hike to get here hadn't been too steep, barely enough to remind Venatrix of her lightly-bruised ribs from that damn obstacle course as she'd focused on keeping her footing among the conifers once they hit the treeline, and then the loose stones once they emerged at the water's edge. The path along the river had wound back around itself long ago; a towering slope of tree-covered rock now shielded their campsite from view. As they walked, a cool breeze rolled off the water, though the temperature in the valley didn't quite carry the sharp bite of the mountaintop. It toyed with the One girl's hair; Venatrix's as well, though her ponytail kept the majority of it from her face.
Venatrix followed her ally's gaze as they crunched along, her own eyes just as peeled for any sight of the boat.
As the only one of yesterday's group supposedly familiar with types of boats and ships, the best description Idris could offer had been, "Kinda like a sailboat, but also not." When Venatrix pressed him for actual details, he claimed a mast — presumably for a sail of sorts — the rest too far away to see. Percy, Mariposa, and Grethel had unfortunately backed him up there.
She'd find out herself soon enough. "There," Mariposa's even voice called out; her outstretched hand pointed towards a distant shape along the river, about to crest another curve.
Venatrix cursed. "How'd they get so far?"
"Probably because of the river," Idris said unhelpfully, but Venatrix barely registered his words or the surprised look on his face as she barreled past him in pursuit of the boat.
Rock crunched beneath her feet, echoed soon by her allies' swift strides joining her own. Despite the wind in her ears, she sensed Percy's presence at her shoulder, exactly where he should be; the familiarity of his timed breathing kicked her into gear as they easily outran the floating sticks and leaves that flowed lazily along the river.
Ahead, the shape of the ship seemed to widen ever-so-slightly, and Venatrix realized it must be turning course. Inwardly cursing, she picked up her pace. Air huffed in a steady inhale-exhale as she ran; her sword bumped awkwardly against her hip, but she didn't dare slow, nevermind the wordless shouts of her allies.
Whoever was steering the ship certainly wasn't an expert; if it weren't for the river, Venatrix doubted it would be moving at all. In the time it took before the ship disappeared around the bend, Venatrix could pick out the towering mast along with a distinct curved bow almost serpent-like in shape. No doubt it was big enough to carry the entire pack; Venatrix would bet her sword it was stocked to the brim with supplies.
Which meant the advantage belonged to the crew— a well-trained captain could defend easily against a land-based assault.
Fat chance they've got one of those.
Still… Assume their advantage. Err on the side of caution— it's still your life on the line.
They neared the curve in the path, and Venatrix motioned for her allies to retreat into the treeline. Confused looks flew her way as they instinctively slowed; when she regained her panting breath, Venatrix explained her reasoning, ensuring they kept a steady pace with the boat.
"I can send some flaming arrows," Percy suggested, drawing one from his quiver.
Venatrix shook her head. "No; I want the ship."
The fervor in her voice was echoed in Viper's grin, the coiled muscles of her allies. Percy strung his bow nonetheless, his gaze as laser-focused as her own; he knew the advantage of his ranged weapon as well as Venatrix did.
Between the trees, the imposing wooden boat flashed in and out of her vision. This close, the mast stretched like a tree towards the sky, though the hull looked low enough to scramble over from the water. A few pairs of oars jutted out from the sides like fins of the great serpent's head carved into its bow.
Almost languidly, the boat cut its path through the water; the hunters slithered alongside it in silent, dogged pursuit.
Venatrix's legs burned in her crouch, begging to spring. Figures moved up and down the deck, indecipherable from her point of view, but enough to keep her fist closed, her hungry allies at bay.
It wouldn't last long. Percy's bow remained dutifully taut, but on her other side, Viper's predatory gaze never wavered from their target. By the tense hunch of Mariposa's shoulders, she shared the sentiment. "What are we waiting for?" Idris whispered eagerly from Shannon's side.
"They might have—"
"Oh, who cares?" To answer his own question, Idris brought that 'Makers-be-damned horn to his lips, and a blast rang through the valley loud enough to shake the trees.
Shouts of surprise followed the horn's echo. The Ones burst from the tree line, vying, desperate to get there first. In the empty air where they'd just been, a cackling Idris started after them, but Venatrix was faster. "Fucking idiot!" she spat. Wrenching the horn from his grasp, she used it to whack him upside the head before she tore across the beach in a full-on pelt. Past Percy, towards the ship; just on the heels of his arrow.
She only caught a glimpse of Veylani Vauxhall's wide eyes before the projectile sank into her skull.
The Thirteen girl toppled backwards over the side of the ship; her cannon shook the earth, distorted by the sound of rushing water as Venatrix threw herself headfirst into the river after her allies, their targets.
A shock of cold enveloped her immediately. Shoving down the urge to gasp, Venatrix pushed forwards. Her fingers sliced through the water, toes digging into gravelly sand, and when she reared her head, the sound of splashing resolved into shrill screams. They breached the ship. A quick glance confirmed it, swords and all.
Venatrix herself wasn't far behind.
One final underwater kick brought her to the hull. Fingers scrabbling against wood, Venatrix emerged gasping; she shook her head furiously to clear the water from her eyes, the hair from her face. Another quick glance backwards; Percy stood at the ready, bow drawn and arrow nocked. Next to him, Idris and Shannon. Dazed, open-mouthed. Close-combat weapons dangled uselessly at their sides.
She suppressed a growl of annoyance. I'll deal with you later.
Right now, wood bit into her fingertips as she gripped the ridge of the hull, hoping that anyone on board was too busy screaming or killing to slice off her fingers. Arms burning and legs kicking, Venatrix hauled herself upwards. Water amplified her weight, trapped within her clothes, her hair, and a groan of effort slipped between her teeth; propping her foot against the base of an oar, she pushed off, catching herself on one knee as she rolled over the edge.
A small black-and-white blur darted in front of her as she drew her sword. Venatrix recoiled, snapping to her feet; another human-shaped blur followed it, a cry of "Charcoal, no!" tearing from their throat.
Her gaze zeroed in on him — Twelve boy, Erryn. She let her sword lead, only to find herself shoved aside by his pursuer; Mariposa's katanas flashed in the afternoon sun as she leapt over one of the wooden benches lining the ship. Fluidly, she lunged; Twelve cowered, right side exposed to the blade that sank into his ribs. With an animalistic yowl, something scrambled out from his now-slack grasp — a cat, Venatrix realized — and Mariposa withdrew her weapon just as quickly. "Sorry. You've got four already."
Venatrix only grunted in response. She'd probably feel the same in the other girl's position. "Both Twelves," she commented, watching the black-and-white cat dart beneath a bench.
Erryn's wild gaze seemed to follow the animal, a frantic dying expression smeared with blue paint and untempered terror, before landing on something no one else could see. The cannon fired. "Oh." Mariposa straightened. "I guess you're right." Her eyes still lingered on the crimson leaking from his wound, darkening the water that sloshed around their boots.
The deck jolted suddenly beneath their feet. Mariposa stepped back, and Venatrix's hand snapped to her shoulder, steadying the One girl against the rocking current. Her eyes flicked towards Venatrix, the trembling cat, the dead boy; round and unreadable. "Was that everyone?" Venatrix asked.
"No, there's still…"
She trailed off as the cat poked its dark-furred head out, sniffing cautiously. With a mrrrow? it slithered back to the Twelve boy, pawing gently at his face. When Erryn didn't respond, it let out a loud wail. Venatrix recoiled; beneath her hand, Mariposa flinched ever-so-slightly. She looked away as it nosed beneath the Twelve boy's arm, curling up against his chest.
The clang of metal on metal interrupted its mourning wails. Venatrix's head whipped towards the source; Viper, still engaged in combat with the last of the doomed alliance— Gaberlee, the Nine girl.
Venatrix started towards them, but Viper's snarl halted her in place. "Stay back, Pyke," he hissed. "She's mine."
Fine. Whatever. Venatrix raised her hands in silent surrender. Better to let him get his kills than start needless bullshit. He didn't look like he needed help anyways, never mind the sword that Nine somehow managed to get a hold of; she'd been right about the ship hosting supplies, apparently. "What are you waiting for, then?" Venatrix challenged as he dodged a clumsy strike, landing a shallow hit on Gaberlee's already red-stained arm.
Clearly, he'd been toying with her. Venatrix shouldn't have expected anything else.
Viper shot her a glare in between blows, enough of a distraction for the Nine girl's sword to slice a sharp gash in his cheek. A shout tore from his lips, more enraged than pained, and the brief flicker of hope across Nine's face — that maybe she'd make a match for a Career after all — quailed under his wrath. A swift flick of his sword sent hers skidding across the deck, useless. It came to rest at Venatrix's feet, but she only saw the malice twisting Viper's features as he backhanded the girl hard enough for her to cry out, to lose balance.
In the echo of the jarring slap, he pounced.
Frantically, she kicked at his sword; it flew from his hands, but Viper didn't seem to care, reaching instead for the knife at his belt as he easily pinned her to the deck. At the sight of the blade, a cry tore from Gaberlee's throat— "No! Help me!"
Desperate eyes flashed to where Venatrix and Mariposa stood before Viper grabbed her forcefully by the jaw. "No one's gonna help you now, Nine," he sneered.
The Nine girl's gaze turned skywards, pleading and muttering incoherently.
"Who the hell are you talking to?" Viper snapped.
"Cut it out, Viper," Venatrix called, uneasiness pooling in her gut. "Just get rid of her."
Ignorant of her attacker's demands, Nine's muttering grew louder, more frantic; Viper choked it off with a hand around her throat, but not before Venatrix realized she was… praying. "Hear that?" Viper leered gleefully. "She wants you to shut up."
"Viper…"
Still, Nine's lips trembled with her soundless, determined prayer.
This time, Viper's knife cut her off. A shriek tore from Nine's throat as it plunged into her right eye; her wails echoed the crying cat's in a chorus that curdled Venatrix's stomach, moved her leaden feet across the deck. "Viper!"
"Come on, let me have a little fun," he said. The knife twisted and another scream ripped through the air, far more shrill than anything that graced the arena during the Bloodbath. "That's better, isn't it?" he cooed, wrangling Nine's thrashing limbs beneath his weight.
"It is day fucking two," Venatrix spat. "Just kill her!" White knuckles tightened around the hilt of her sword, but as she neared her malevolent ally, he wrenched the blade from Nine's eye in an arc of blood, swiping at her midsection. Venatrix twisted out of the way with a hiss of anger.
(Funny, she'd never had an issue watching a torturer through a screen.)
But she couldn't deny the way her gut lurched at the sight of the Nine girl and her agony, the sound of her screams still gnawing at the bones beneath Venatrix's skin, as much as she tried to block it out. Vague shouts from the riverbank barely reached her ears through the echoes. I want no part of this. Maybe she never had.
With a flick of his wrist, Viper wiped his blade on his sleeve, the stark splatters of crimson only painting his glower in a more sinister light. "I let you have the Elevens," he reminded her testily, trailing the knife gently down Nine's bloodied cheek. "The least you could do is stay back."
In his distraction, Nine's choked murmur resurfaced, just barely. "…Forgive us our tres-trespasses, as… as we for-forgive those—"
Viper scoffed. "I thought I said shut up."
He dug the knife again into her eye and her words contorted into a keening wail. "Viper!" Venatrix shouted again, nearly inaudible over the girl's agony. Teeth bared in concentration, the One boy angled the knife against the sway of the boat, digging deeper into Nine's socket. His knees pressed into her shoulders, free palm holding her forehead in place while her limbs flailed in gut-instinct, futile attempts to dislodge him. A final twist, a ragged scream, and the knife tore Nine's once-blue eye free from its socket.
Beneath him, the girl's prayer dissolved completely into wet, convulsing sobs.
Nine went limp as Viper released his hold. Her head lolled into a puddle of bloody water, shooting Venatrix an empty, one-eyed stare. Splinters bit into Venatrix's nail beds as her fingernails dug into the wood of the ship's rail, her sword hanging dead and useless in her grip.
With a morbid fascination, Viper inspected the appendage, rolling it between his fingers. "What do you think, Vee? Posy?" The acute note in his voice set Venatrix's hairs on end. "Should I go for the other?"
Mariposa's lips were clamped shut, her face ashen. It took everything in Venatrix's power to wrench hers open. "That's enough."
"I don't think it is," Viper said, wiping the blade of the knife on Gaberlee's shirt. "Someone has to entertain the masses, and if it can't be you…"
"I said," Venatrix spat, her fist tightening around the hilt of her sword, "that's enough."
Viper met her eyes, sinister glare meeting stone. Though he was kneeling, Venatrix felt no advantage standing over him, and he knew it too. With a slight tilt of his hand, he let Gaberlee's eye fall from his fingers, landing with a wet splash into a puddle of the girl's blood; it rolled back and forth across the puddle in time with the rocking of the ship, though it never strayed far. "And I said," he hissed, "stay. Back."
He drove the knife down, but Venatrix's sword got there first. Her blade sank into Gaberlee's empty socket, and the boom of the cannon shook the arena.
Open-mouthed, Viper stared as Venatrix withdrew her sword. His surprise swiftly morphed to anger. "You… that was my kill!"
"Don't take so fucking long, then."
Viper's lip curled into a familiar blood-stained sneer. "Oh, are we not allowed to put on a show now?"
All Venatrix could do was seethe in the face of the rhetorical question, because they both knew the answer. This was what they'd signed up for, trained for. Just because she refused to do the same with Starling didn't mean everyone was bound to follow her set of internal rules.
Like it or not, her father had been right— this was what the Capitol audiences wanted.
From above, the flute chimes of a gift descended upon the tributes, landing squarely on the dead girl's red-coated forehead. In an instant, the One boy snatched up the parcel: a large amber-colored bottle with an elegant note attached to the neck.
Viper's mouth stretched into a wide grin as he read out loud.
"'Drinks on me.' Signed, V. Valorius."
true vengeance 151 . weebly . com
A/N: Well. We can thank VE for the reason why this took so long.. and that being said, shoutout to Dyl for writing such an incredible story for my kiddo Honey (check out Contagion by dyloccupy if you get the chance ! I've also linked it to my profile c: ) and we can thank him again for submitting the lovely Azaire Rivette, whom I wrote ! You might have seen the new story on my profile also, but if you haven't, check out Desiderium: The 171st Hunger Games !
As for TrV... shorter chap here but I think that's for the best.. Rip D9 :skull: and also thank you to Linds and Rem for Veylani and Erryn ! I had a lovely time writing them ;-; ..I don't remember if I ever said a thank-you in here for all the kids who died in the Bloodbath, so thank you again to Supersage171 on AO3 for Genera (D5F), Majonga on FFN for Vita (D6F), Rune Whisperer on FFN for Zarim (D6M), ASlytheringSlytherin on AO3 for Caitlin (D8F), Jane_Eyre_41 on AO3 for Yaroslav (D9M), and Dyl (again lol) for Zavian (D13M). Will update the blog soon when I get the chance.. and hopefully chapter updates will come more quickly now ! We've got a lot of ground to cover still (:
- Nell