Chapter 8 – Luke
Snow sat before me, his cold eyes unwavering. He sat on a large velvet chair in the center of the room, surrounded by a few candles and a heavy scent of roses. Dark, purple curtains were strung across the large windows, blocking my view of the party below.
"What do you want?" I spat, unable to completely hide the venom in my voice.
It didn't faze him. The corner of his lips turned up in amusement. "Is that how you treat your President?"
"My apologies. It's my tribute's Victory Tour party and I want to be sure I'm there to celebrate." It was eerily quiet. The room must have been sound proofed, considering the sheer amount of people milling about below.
"Please, take a seat." He gestured toward another chair across from him. I shuffled closer, but remained standing. Fortunately, he didn't insist.
"You're scheduled appointments have all been terminated for the time being."
His words took a minute to sink in. A feeling of wide spread relief rushed through my body. I was free? How did this happen?
"Instead, I have something more important I need you do to for me."
Whatever feeling of relief I had was short lived. Of course, his words came with a catch. Snow was always one step ahead and he always had something else up his sleeve.
"I've received news of various meetings, rebellious in nature. I cannot allow this. It needs to be put to rest as soon as possible, preferably by the 74th Games. These men, I need them to be eliminated." He stood up and walked closer to me, his steps punctuating every word he spoke.
"I could send my own men, of course, but it would cause too much disruption and I prefer to draw as little attention to this as possible. This is where you come in."
He stopped right before me, close enough that I could feel his breath on my face. My muscles tensed but I willed myself not to take a step back.
"I need you, Luke, to be my assassin. It shouldn't be too difficult, you have experience, after all."
My vision blurred, and by the time my eyes refocused, I was standing in front of a small, brick house. The house stood alone in the middle of a wide field, stretching as far as I can see and illuminated by the full moon. I stepped through the front door, crossbow tucked tightly by my side. It was eerily quiet; I couldn't even hear my own footsteps.
There was only one door at the end of the upstairs hallway. I snuck closer, slowly turning the knob and pushing it open. A sleeping figure laid on the bed, but it was too dark to see anything but a dark shape.
I took a step into the room, and the figure shot upright. I let the arrow fly.
She stared at me in shock, gasping for air as her hands fumbled for the arrow lodged in her chest.
Juliet stared back at me, a look of utter betrayal frozen across her face. Her eyes glinted in the moonlight, giving me one last accusatory glare before she collapsed backwards onto the bed.
I woke up in a pool of my own sweat. My body shuddered as I took heaving breaths in, trying to get air back into my lungs. I stared up at the ceiling in shock, trying to ground myself in reality.
It wasn't real, it was just a dream. An extremely realistic one, but just a dream.
The nightmares had been getting worse, especially without Juliet sleeping by my side, but that could never happen again. Not when I was the one killing her in my dreams every night.
My alarm rang on the bedside table, reminding me that I only had a few moments to pull myself together before I was expected at breakfast.
I reminded myself of the reason I was doing all of this. My family and Juliet. But what if my reasons were selfish? As much as I wanted to protect them for their own sake, the real reason was because I knew I couldn't function without them. I wasn't protecting anyone by following Snow's orders. I was just trading one innocent life for another. The men I killed – some of them had families as well. I didn't want my family to be taken away from me, but isn't that was I doing to others? Leaving children without a father?
If any of my family members knew what I was really doing, they would want nothing to do with me. I was a selfish, despicable human being.
My breathing got shallow and my vision began to blur. I rolled off the bed and stumbled toward the direction of the bathroom, gasping for air. The porcelain sink was cold and unforgiving under my palms, but the feeling was welcome as I attempted to hold myself upright. I made the mistake of glancing up, catching my face in the mirror.
It was the face of a killer. The face of an absolute hypocrite. Who was I kidding by telling myself that I was a protector? I had continuously lied to myself, telling myself that it wasn't really me who was killing these people. It was Snow.
But it wasn't Snow who was sneaking into their homes in the dead of night, pulling the trigger without even giving them a chance to fight back like the coward I was.
When I first won the Hunger Games, I didn't know how I could possibly function knowing I had taken innocent lives so I could continue living my own. In a moment of sobriety, Barrick had told me something I always held onto. That it wasn't my fault. That I didn't choose this, it wasn't me killing those children. It was the Capitol. All I did was survive.
But he was wrong. It was me. Children died by my hand. I didn't have to kill them, but I did. Because I was selfish, and I wanted to live. I wanted to see my family again. Why did I deserve that more than them? I killed those children, only to kill more innocent lives outside of the arena.
The reflection in the mirror continued to stare back at me. His eyes were cold, dead. His expression gave no hint of the turmoil that was suffocating me. My chest felt heavy and my lungs were burning, but the face in the mirror remained stoic. It was a skill I once prided myself in, but now disgusted me. How could I be proud of not showing any remorse for who I had become?
I remained stone cold, the rage brewing inside of me until suddenly it wasn't anymore. The mirror shattered under my fist, raining down in little pieces onto the floor. Drops of blood oozed dripped down my hand, standing out in dark drops against the white tile.
"What the fuck was that? Are you okay?" Juliet's voice was muffled by the door to my room. I heard the doorknob rattle as she tried to push against the lock.
"I'm fine." I called lightly, "Just an accident. I'll be out in a minute."
I was met with silence. She could probably see right through my lies, but she was smart enough to pick her battles. We were all fucked up, after all. She knew that just as well as I did. I waited for the disgust to rise up again, reminding me to hate myself, but I felt drained. I thought the emotional release would consume me, sending me to my knees in a mess of rage and despair. Instead, I felt even emptier than before.
I couldn't be surprised – I trained myself to be empty after all. I knew it was all a lie, but there was nothing left in me to give shit. Even if it was too late to save myself, there was still hope for Juliet. I wanted to tell her everything, but I knew she would hate me. Another selfish lie.
I rinsed my bloody fist in the sink filled with shattered pieces. An Avox would have to clean this up later, but I'm sure this wasn't the first time a mirror had been broken in the Training Center.
I pulled myself together enough to walk into the kitchen, giving everyone a small smile as I sat down at the remaining empty seat. The only time I felt remotely myself again after the Games was when I was back in Nine with Juliet. Having her beside me helped, but not when she had also turned into a shell of herself, just like I had.
Hilda sat with us at breakfast today. I could tell by the look on her face that she had a million questions she wanted to ask our tributes, but surprisingly, she kept her mouth shut for the time being. It was a big day for Ardice and Garth, and I could tell they were nervous by the way they picked at their food. Later today they would be scored by the Gamemakers. Both Juliet and I had gotten a decently high score for our District, earning us enough sponsors to get us out of some tricky times in the arena. Although the fourteen-year-olds in front of me were intelligent enough, neither of them had any clear strengths that could make them stand out. I just had to hope that their survival instincts would be enough.
Juliet must have sensed that our escort was about to explode, so she took the lead.
"Are you ready for today?" Her tone was light and she kept her question broad, but it was enough to make the tributes tense up.
Garth answered first, shrugging his tiny shoulders. "As ready as I'll ever be."
Ardice nodded along, giving him a small smile. It was the first friendly gesture I had seen come from her.
My fellow mentor looked like she wanted to say something else, but her mouth snapped shut quickly. I didn't have any words either; I didn't feel like I had anything to say that wouldn't make them feel worse than they did. We clearly weren't the greatest mentors, but neither of us had figured out how to work with our tributes without making promises we couldn't keep.
It felt like an eternity of silence before we finally sent our tributes off to their last day of training. I spent most of the day to figure out something helpful to say when Ardice and Garth got back, but my mind was blank.
Barrick wasn't much comfort to me when I was a tribute, claiming that I was old enough to understand the reality of the situation and that he wasn't going to coddle me. While I resented him at the time, I understood his perspective. I'm sure other mentors would disagree, but I didn't see a point in trying to be upbeat and positive for our tributes. They were young, but they weren't stupid. We made it clear that we would help them as much as possible from our end, but what happened in the arena wasn't up to us.
"Can you even hear me?"
Juliet leaned over the edge of the couch where I laid. Her dark hair slid forward, falling into my face. I groaned, moving it aside when it started to tickle my cheeks.
"You need a haircut." I huffed, still trying to swat it away. She grinned and stood up straight, coming around the couch to sit by my feet.
"I've been talking for a few minutes now. I thought you were just being a good listener, but turns out I was wrong."
I rubbed my face, trying to clear my head. "I was trying to come up with supportive to say to Garth. My own mentor didn't give me much inspiration."
Juliet grinned at my sarcastic tone, looking at something behind me.
"Got you out alive though, didn't I?" Barrick laughed as he joined us, sitting on the couch opposite to us.
Juliet's grin grew wider, making the own corners of my mouth pull up slightly. While I had been going through my own personal hell lately, I wasn't blind to the fact that Juliet had retreated into herself again. We had finally been settling back into our friendship back in Nine, but being in the Capitol was enough to destroy any progress we had made. I wanted to ask her how she was doing, but our tributes would be getting back soon and I didn't want to destroy whatever shred of positivity she was holding onto at the moment.
The three of us fell into silence. It was off-putting, but not entirely uncomfortable. I still didn't understand why Barrick had willingly joined us in the Capitol, but I didn't really care enough to ask.
The door flung open and suddenly Hilda was ushering our tributes into the room, ruining the silence. Ardice looked glum as she sat down on the edge of the couch, her eyes glued to the floor. Garth made his way over to my side of the couch, sitting down with a nervous huff.
Juliet opened her mouth but closed it abruptly after one look at the redhead next to her. It was clear that our tributes were not in the mood to talk about what happened down in the training room. My mouth felt dry but I couldn't come up with any words to fill the silence.
The anthem blared loudly from the television, causing all of us to sit up a little straighter. Cesar started with his normal intro before launching directly into the training scores for District One. The scores from the Career Districts were unsurprising – 9's and 10's as usual.
The rest of the scores aren't notable until the symbol of District Nine makes it's way onto the screen. Beside me, Garth holds his breath as his face pops up. Next to his name is the number 4.
It takes me a moment to gain my composure, but I quickly place a hand on his shoulder.
"A four is good. We can work with that."
We all know I'm lying. A four isn't as bad as a two or three, but he'll be quickly dismissed as a Bloodbath tribute.
Ardice appears next, earning herself a five. Juliet nods at her, looking unsurprised. The glum look on Ardice's face lights up briefly, seeing that she was on the higher side of the non Career scores.
We all exhale when Cesar moves on to the District Ten tributes. I'm prepared for the rest of the scores to be a mix of 3s and 4, but I'm taken aback by the giant 10 that appears next to the bulky tribute from Eleven. Whatever brief relief Ardice and Garth got from seeing their scores is quickly deflated. Juliet meets my eye over our tribute's heads and I know she's thinking of Johnny from her Games. I'm equally as shocked when the tiny District Eleven girl earns a 7. She can't be more than twelve or thirteen, but she might have some sort of hidden skill just like Moe did last year.
If I thought District Eleven was shocking, nothing could compare to the scores of District Twelve. Everyone in our room gasped when we saw an 11 next to the female tribute's face – the highest score earned so far. A score of eleven was almost unheard of, and I'm sure it had never been given to a tribute from an outer district until now.
Barrick's deep laugh starts filling the room as we all look on in shock. Ardice and Garth look at my former mentor with horrified expressions, causing me to pull Garth into a standing position and start ushering him back to his room.
"Get some sleep, we have all day tomorrow to discuss your scores and prepare you for interviews." Hilda places her hand on his back, leading him gently toward his door.
My tribute doesn't say a word, nodding up at her with glassy eyes. I have to look away.
Ardice follows him into the hallway, roughly wiping at her cheeks as she runs into her room.
"Did you have to laugh?" Juliet faces Barrick with crossed arms. She might be tiny, but I definitely hated being on the receiving end of her anger. It turns out Barrick felt the same way and he quickly stopped chuckling, although not removing the grin from his face.
"An eleven from District Twelve? Come on Juliet, this year's games are going down in history. I can feel it."
I sit back down on the couch, my mind reeling. "He's right, she's obviously hiding something big. Although that score just put a massive target on her back."
Juliet sighs. "It's probably better that the attention of the Careers will be on her. Anything that keeps Garth and Ardice under the radar during the Bloodbath increases their chances."
I don't bother to bring up the fact that even if they survive the Bloodbath, there's not much else they can do other than survive off the land. Even that can only take them so far until they have to protect themselves against another tribute. I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to voice any negative opinions out loud. I feel disgusted at myself for dismissing our tributes so easily, but the competition this year was making their chances look slim.
"It would be smart for you two to get some sleep tonight. Ardice and Garth need you tomorrow." Hilda looks disapprovingly at the two of us. I can tell she isn't too impressed by our mentoring skills.
Juliet only nods, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward her room. I follow dumbly, too shocked by the feeling of her hand on my skin to say anything. I can't remember the last time we even had any physical contact since the last time she slept beside me. I missed the feeling of physical comfort, but my hands turned clammy when I remembered the nightmare I had been waking up to the past few nights.
She shuts the door behind her, turning toward me with wide eyes.
"An eleven? What do you think she's hiding?"
I shrug, equally as confused. "I can't imagine what hidden skill she would have picked up in Twelve. There's a reason they're always the worst scored tributes."
She bites her lip, and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head as she tries to guess the mystery behind the girl on fire.
I place my hands on her shoulders, shaking her gently. "Stop thinking."
I break her out of her concentration, causing her eyes to lock on mine. "You're right," She agrees with a subtle grin, "we have to do way too much of that tomorrow."
Her eyes look sleepy, but for the first time in a long time I see a glimmer of the old mischief they used to be filled with.
Juliet's eyes bore into mine, and I want to look away. I feel like she can see right through me, and part of me is she'll be able to see every terrible thing I've been doing reflected in my eyes. The rational side of me knows I've gotten way too good at hiding myself from her.
Juliet's grin turns into a yawn, and the moment is gone.
I clear my throat and take my hands off her shoulder, looking away from her gaze.
"Get some sleep, we'll talk in the morning."
She nods in agreement, giving me a sleepy smile as I open the door and step into the hallway.
"Night." She whispers, looking at me through the crack in the door for a brief moment before shutting it firmly. I stare at the wooden door for a moment, wanting nothing more than to curl up beside her on the bed and finally have a peaceful night of sleep. I don't think she'd object, but I can't bring myself to say anything. I turn back down the hallway toward my room, feeling the cold despair creep back up my neck once again.