That was where Electra's memory of the Games ended.

Well, she knows what happened - after all, it's often considered one of the top ten best Hunger Games comebacks - but she has no recollection of any of it. Absolutely zero.

If she were to get her copy of the tape and play it right now, she knew exactly what she would see. But she just can't remember it as it happened, and she's a little disappointed about that.

Still though, she takes comfort in the fact that the big gap in her memory is filled.

It's been decades since then. The war is over, and so are the Hunger Games. Hope was on the horizon. Getting any sort of enjoyment out of the Games whatsoever was considered disgusting and sadistic.

But for fuck's sake, can't Electra just have this?

Her humongous house in the Victor's Village had survived, thankfully. Everything inside it was just as Electra had left it when she heard the news of the purge from Porter - chair tipped over, half-eaten sandwich turning moldy on the plate, dishes still in the sink. A scene of a sudden, unplanned departure.

She was glad to be back home. Sure, joining the rebellion effort in Five was a worthy use of her time, but now that it was all over she just wanted to be in the familiar environment of her own home.

The Victor's Village was dead silent. Everyone else had taken premature trips to the afterlife. Mara and Isaac were probably galavanting together in heaven somewhere, having passed peacefully in their sleep a few years back. Bradie and Billie in the Hunger Games that they had once survived, once upon a time. Porter died in the dam attack. That had been a particularly brutal night. Electra had barely survived herself.

Electra had no more noisy, annoying neighbours. She was now the last of Five's Victors.

She didn't let herself cry. There was no need to. Everyone up in heaven knew that she was sad for them.

Instead, she sat herself down in front of her television and switched it on.

She skipped past the reapings, parade, scoring and interviews. She'd seen them all a million times.

She fast-forwarded the bloodbath, the next few days, and Ash's death. It all hurt to look at, even fifty years later. Ash would have been sixty-three by now. He might have had children and even grandchildren. He would have had a good life.

She even skipped the death of the girl from Eight. That's not what she was here to watch.

Finally, she stopped, and let the tape play as normal. Electra saw herself on screen, slumped against the wall, blood coursing all over her head and body. She lay completely still, save for the occasional twitch. It looked as if she was done for.

Pietro stood over her, panting heavily. In the green glow of the night-vision setting of the cameras, it looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie.

Especially when he began to smirk again. He undid his belt and the top few buttons on his trousers, panting louder. This whole thing excited him. It was fucking sick. Electra still wanted to beat his ass.

Pietro kneeled down and tugged at Electra's belt.

One second, Electra was as still as a statue.

The next, a knife was sunk into the back of Pietro's neck.

Electra was bolt upright now, breathing heavily through clenched teeth, a wild, angry glare in her eyes. With bloody, fumbling fingers, she yanked the knife out and plunged it back in again. Pietro's cannon sounded but Electra wasn't done yet.

She flipped the body over and hacked away at his face and genitals in an adrenaline-fuelled rage. Blood spattered all over the walls and ground and everything else around. Electra screamed at him, all sorts of insults that Pietro could no longer rebuke. Because he was dead. He couldn't defend himself. He was at Electra's mercy. Just like how all of his victims had been at his mercy.

There was no one around to stop the assault on his remains. Not that anyone would have stopped it.

By the time Electra was done, it wasn't even recognizable as a body anymore. As she stormed off, the cameras zoomed in on the mess. It was nothing more than a pile of gore. Her rage had taken its toll.

The clip had gone viral on the internet. "Girl Power!" was a common tagline. Others included, "Don't Fuck Around With Girls!", "Electra Is My Idol!", and "This Is What Happens When You Try and Take Advantage of Us. Take Note, Boys."

District Five was relieved. Finally, that sick bastard could no longer rape anyone. In the end, it had been him who got fucked. All the girls of Five got to have the last laugh.

And District Five was even happier two days later when Electra, still in an uncontrollable storm of rage, took down the remaining two tributes and was declared the Victor.

The doctors were confused as to how she could keep on fighting after being slammed against a rock wall several times, but they chalked it up to adrenaline and an impenetrable iron will. Their injury report noted that she was lucky to be alive. Head injuries don't tend to go over well for most people. The most Electra had been inflicted with was a concussion severe enough to cause memory loss. But instead of having trouble remembering things that had happened before Pietro's attack on her, she had no memory of anything for a month after. Her mind simply didn't record anything that had happened. It was just a big gap through which the wind whistled.

But the tape was there for her to watch. Mara and Isaac were there to tell her about the little details.

Apparently, Electra threw up during her crowning. She called her stylist a "pig-headed son of a bitch". She smashed a window by throwing a vase at it while in the midst of a nightmare. When she arrived back in Five, she had apparently screamed insults to the crowds waiting to congratulate her. I don't want your thanks, she said. You fuckers voted me in for the Hunger Games! Go fuck yourselves!

Even if she couldn't remember doing that, she still felt the sense of betrayal. They sent me into the Games with a rapist for a district partner, then when I come back they act like they did nothing wrong? Fuck that!

It had been fifty years since then. Electra was still angry, but she was even angrier at the Capitol when rebellion broke out and they sent waves of Peacekeepers in retaliation. They could just fuck off. Only she was allowed to terrorise her district!

She'd survived the Victor's Purge by hiding out with Porter and a small band of rebels that quickly expanded into an even bigger band. They'd attacked the dam. Porter died. The only tribute she'd ever mentored to victory had died. It wouldn't have happened if the Capitol had just left them all alone. Those fucking fucks.

But it was all over now. The Capitol was under new leadership. No more Hunger Games. No more fearing for her life. Electra could finally settle down. She could relax.

The Mockingjay was coming. She wanted to visit all the remaining Victors. To help gain some sort of closure for the both of them, Electra supposed. After all, Katniss and Peeta started the war. Electra had a part in ending it. The whole world had been turned upside down once more. Victors were a dying breed. They would want to stick together.

But the famous couple wouldn't be arriving for a few more days. Electra had those days to herself. After all she'd been through, she deserved some peace and quiet.

And some happiness.

Electra rewound the tape and smiled as she listened to Pietro scream in pain. She would never not enjoy this, even when it was socially unacceptable. Even if she lost her memory again. Even in the throes of death.