Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.
Note: Quite an anticipated victor, I would assume? I mean, it seems to me that most people love Finnick. Certainly the people within the Capitol do and therein lies one very uncomfortable topic – the victor prostitution ring, an aspect of the series that's kind of hard to not at least think about when Finnick is brought up. It was only inevitable that it would play a role in Finnick's chapter… and you know what? I think I found a way to make things work out pretty well.
Additionally, good job to those who tried to guess the victors who remain. You were all quite accurate, though it seems nobody knew who the seventy second victor is. Not to worry, you'll be seeing her sooner than later. Also, a big thanks to Red Thorn and N.C.s 1 Fan for all the reviews. Just to let you guys know, I can't respond to anon users. You'll need an account for me to be able to do that. In any case, hope all you guys enjoy the new chapter. :)
"I used to think that Finnick was so shady, smug… a prick," Katniss sighed, shaking her head ever so slowly. "You can imagine how much I regret that now. After I heard what he went through, what Snow and so many of the people in this… this damn fucking city… what they made him do…"
Peeta put a hand upon Katniss' shoulder. "He deserved better. So many of us did. But… you have to admit, he got his revenge in the end. All those secrets."
"Equal parts horrifying and amazing," Katniss agreed. "Some of those secrets he shared, the people they were about… it makes me want to vomit."
"Got that right. Remember the days when we didn't know just how depraved people could be?" Peeta paused, as if realising the answer. "…Yeah, me neither."
"If only he was here to see what we have now. Sure, it came at a heavy price… but, we won," Katniss trailed off into a silence.
The pair of victors held a respectful silence for their fallen ally and friend.
65th Annual Hunger Games
Name: Finnick Odair
Gender: Male
District: 4
Age: 14
Kills: 7
The net of vines ensnared its final victim, there was a moment of struggle and after a single moment the trident was bought down into the ribcage.
The cannon fired.
The trumpets sounded.
Finnick held up his trident in triumph, a look of victory and sheer relief on his face as he basked in the rising sun shining down over the overgrown junkyard he'd spent the last two weeks inside.
It hadn't been easy getting this far - far enough to bring his trident down into the chest of the runner up, the boy from Five. The flora filled junkyard had been one deadly place from the start. Nasty rust monsters lurking in and out of the shadows, scorching sun that had driven at least four of the tributes insane from sheer thirst, a career pack that was even more deadly than the mutts, a few landmines buried around the arena on the off chance somebody would step on them… it was hell.
But all Finnick had needed was charming the Capitol flawlessly in his interview, scoring an incredible ten in training and, of course, the skills he'd learnt growing up thanks to his family.
They were, after all, performers and acrobats when they weren't fishing.
Finnick weakly smiled to himself as the hovercraft descended to take him home from the arena. All the blood, all the fear, all the pain… it was all worth it. He was going home, the nightmare finally over.
What a wonderful fourteenth birthday present. Being able to simply live at all and go back to his family.
It wasn't long until Finnick learnt that the Games were far from being over. They were only just getting started now that the others were all dead and he had claimed the crown.
Age did not matter, not when President Snow was making ludicrous amounts of money selling Finnick as some sort of a living, breathing party favour. Barely a month went by before the youngest of the victors found himself practically forced into the bed of a grotesque Capitol women under threat of his family being killed if he didn't do it.
The deed lasted hours. Finnick was barely clinging to his sanity by the end of it and this was only the first of what was surely to be numerous nights in the very near future.
A sweaty arm moved towards him, passing him a necklace made out of black pearls – a variety almost impossible to find ever since the dark days.
"A gift from me to you," the women said. "It matches your lovely eyes. It's technically not mine. Moreso my husband's, but he won't miss it. It'll be our little secret."
Secret.
Secret.
That's the moment when Finnick is able to calm himself, put on his signature winning smile and begins to collect an arsenal of weapons that he would one day use to bring down every last person who ever bought and used him, and more besides.
An arsenal of secrets, each one juicier and more depraved than the last.
EIGHT TIMES FINNICK WAS SOLD AND EIGHT SECRETS HE USED TO GET HIS REVENGE
#1
A swanky apartment.
Sweat staining the velvet sheets.
Finnick trying to keep his wits and, hopefully, sanity about himself.
A lecherous woman who seemed to be more spider than human cuddling herself up to him. At first Aracuna Blaze had seemed like a decent enough woman, offering Finnick his choice of food and drinks without any prompting. She'd even been fine to let him watch TV with her for an hour, no strings attached.
The drink turned out to be drugged.
Finnick, in retrospect, didn't mind this. He's being violated no matter what he does and at least this way he can't fully remember the shameful night with the spider lady. Only hissing, clicking, bouncing and what might have been artificial webbing used to bind his arms to the bed posts.
On the other hand it took all of Finnick's sheer tenacity to not break to pieces. This was a violation of human rights… but of course, even victors had no rights. Nobody outside of the Capitol did. It was an injustice the fifteen year old boy sought to fix.
That was why, when Aracuna offered him a very handsome sum of fifteen thousand caps, Finnick politely refused her. He was quick to explain that it was not a lack of gratitude and moreso just the fact that his victor stipend made cash payments something of a moot point. He didn't want to leave Aracuna ripped off.
She bought it hook, line and sinker.
"So, what else would you like?" Aracuna held Finnick closer, her spider eyes practically glowing. "I can give you anything you desire~."
"Well, there is one thing I love to be paid in more than anything else," Finnick gave Aracuna a teasing sort of grin. "Secrets. I just can't get enough of that sweet gossip, you know?"
"Oh, I know very well," Aracuna chuckled to herself. She moved closer to Finnick. "I have one secret you might like to hear. It's just too good not to tell somebody."
"I'm all ears," Finnick said, winking.
Aracuna felt her heart flutter as she leaned closer, whispering the secret to Finnick. She couldn't help but giggle over the way the young boy looked amazed by how scandalous the secret was. He seemed genuinely amazed.
Perhaps it was risky to let such a secret slip, but it was just as Aracuna had said – some secrets were just too good to not tell somebody. Besides, who would believe Finnick if he actually did tell somebody? If one secret was what he wanted then so be it. What was the harm?
The harm was made very apparent a little over ten years later when, during the second rebellion, Finnick appeared on live broadcast. The Capitol could only watch, stunned at how Finnick was looking on their screens – tired, weary… human.
He talked of how he'd been whored out to the Capitol's highest bidders against his will, lest one or more of his family members died if he refused.
The fact his twelve year old nephew had died in the Seventy Fourth Games meant the gloves were coming off. It was officially the limit.
"I've lost count of exactly how many people had me for a night. Some nights I was so drugged I couldn't even remember what we had done, let alone their faces. But the secrets, those stay with me always," Finnick paused to take a drink of water. "For example… Aracuna Blaze. She drugged me, though not enough for me to forget everything."
In her luxury apartment Aracuna could only stare at the screen in pure terror, silently pleading with Finnick to not say anything.
Much like Finnick's own pleas, hers were left entirely ignored.
"But drugging me? That's not a secret is it? Not really, it's just not got that scandalous zing to it," Finnick stares dead on at the camera. "I was fifteen when that happened, but I have it on good authority from the spider lady herself that she likes them even younger. Up to and including her own niece."
It was a horrible secret, one that had the Capitol unable to look away from the screen. Some were terrified as to what may be said about them, others who had never taken part in such things wanted to know what had been going on right under their noses.
Aracuna was not part of either group. Not when some of her neighbours were already trying to break into her apartment and tear her apart.
She took a perfect swan dive off of her balcony.
Pity the fall didn't kill her, if only barely. But the small crowd below kicking and beating her did the job just fine a minute or two later.
#2
It had been Finnick's sweet sixteen, but the party had been anything but sweet.
Mainly because he'd been a sort of living party favour for a dozen of the Capitol citizens in attendance. It did not make any difference that some of them were either men, elderly or in some particularly disturbing case a year younger than himself, he was forced into it lest his mother take a bullet to the brain.
Sure, there was cake and, yes, it hadn't been bad at all. But what worth does cake hold when you're violated by people who, in any decent world, would've been locked away long ago? Alas, Finnick couldn't speak a word of his disgust and fear.
He wasn't even allowed to frown for a mere second.
By now Finnick was getting very good at masking the pain behind a façade of cockiness, party loving and dashing confidence. None of those who bought him even caught on to just how much he hated them. Those on the lower rungs of the Capitol, those that merely didn't see the Games for what they were and genuinely looked up to him, weren't really so bad in Finnick's opinion.
But the scum of his sixteenth birthday? He had to stop himself more than once from grabbing a crowbar and going to town on them.
After the worst of it Finnick found himself relaxing in a hot tub with the man who organised the party. A rich businessman by the name of Grunnix Hastings. The man poured Finnick out some wine and, after a toast, drank heartily.
"Thanks for the company tonight," Grunnix remarked, ever cheerful. "Certainly one of the best nights I've had in a long time. Of course, you only get one sweet sixteen, so… enough about me, did you enjoy the night?"
Finnick, of course, lied through his teeth and said that it was a night that he would never forget. Grunnix was the kind of man to leave a lasting impression. The businessman was hooked on the flattery, soon offering Finnick is solid gold watch as a gift.
"Nah, you keep it for yourself. My victor fund essentially means that I could just buy one of my own," Finnick explained. "I mean no offense of course, I just don't want one of my fans losing a possession for no great reason."
"A boy with looks and brains, huh? You're quite the full package aren't you," Grunnix remarked, chuckling approvingly.
"I believe you'd have to have both to be the most popular victor," Finnick teases. "But you know Grunnix, there is something else that I am interested in. A sort of alternate payment if you happen to have it."
Grunnix smiles. "Name it Finnick and it's yours."
"Secrets. I find the gossip so… addictive. Happen to know anything interesting?" Finnick asked, his eyes alight in a sort of hopeful curiosity.
Grunnix leaned closer, enough to make Finnick feel chills. "I have just the thing in mind."
What Grunnix tells Finnick gives him even worse chills than anything in the Capitol thus far.
Years later it's Grunnix who feels chills as the broadcast continues without interruption. Some wonder if the hacker – Beetee, of course – is just that good or if some of the technicians are letting it play out because they, too, want to hear scandals and gossip.
If that's true then they certainly get it once Finnick brings up Grunnix.
"I never forgot my sweet sixteen alright, not after what Grunnix, his friends and family did to me," Finnick could only shudder. "But what they did to me is nothing to what he did to those animals at his business. You all know it, I'm sure, Hastings Pets? Where you can get all sorts of colourful creatures? Did you ever wonder why they're so obedient and what goes on after hours?"
The things Finnick says about Grunnix and those within his family and social circle have numerous people vomiting in their homes.
Grunnix doesn't get the chance to at least try and jump to his death like Aracuna. The guests at the barbecue he'd been attending all tackle him down and tear him limb from bloody limb, the vile man screaming and agony until his very last breath.
By now there were some riots forming in the streets of the Capitol. Not many, but the size was growing and growing…
#3
Finnick did not always suffer alone. There were times where more than one victor was bought for the night alongside himself. Some would call it a tantalising novelty to have several victors at once.
Any person with just a single shred of decency – for reference, the average person ought to have thousands – would know this is nothing short of depraved to even consider for a mere moment.
It had been a few days prior to the Seventy Third Hunger Games kicking off and Finnick, now in his early twenties, found himself ordered by Snow to provide some 'entertainment' for Elmira Washington. The women was one of Snow's political backers and was not to be denied whatever it was she wanted.
Well, so long as it did not affect Snow's power of course. But as things stood booking out three victors for a night didn't cross such lines.
That was why Finnick, Crimson and the newest member of the victor family, Numi Marrolto, found themselves forced into a romp in the rich woman's bedroom, a place that smelt far too strongly of perfume and other things that Finnick did not want to imagine.
Whips and cuffs were involved.
A can of cream was as well.
By the end of the session Finnick had done his best to try and take the lead in the session. Better, in his opinion, he spare Crimson and Numi from even a minute of suffering. The former had suffered this far longer than he'd been alive for and Numi was only just getting drawn into the nightmare.
It worked.
More whips came out.
While Elmira went to freshen herself up and switch out her stained wig for a fresh one Finnick tried to comfort his two fellow victors. Crimson, kept looking young and perky through forced Capitol surgeries, looked like a dead women walking. She hardly cared about anything anymore.
Numi, meanwhile, was wheezing and shaking. The street smart, somewhat meat headed rapper looked nothing like her normal self – she looked like a lost, innocent little girl.
"Does it even end?" she whispered, shaking and gagging.
"If we have our way it will one day," Finnick replied, closing his eyes. "Best you can do is smile, fake it until you make it… and just try to think about something else."
"…Why me?" Numi asked, trying her hardest to follow Finnick's advice. Her fake smile looking nothing short of ridiculous.
"You're young, you're new, you have that Indian and Korean background making you look exotic… lots of reasons," Finnick gently held Numi's hand. "You've got this."
"…This fucking sucks," Numi whispered, clenching her other hand into a fist.
"Try doing it for as long as I've been forced to," Crimson muttered, her eyes sallow and dead. "I can't even kill myself, not when Snow would just kill my family if I did."
The door opened before another word could be spoken. Elmira strode back in and soon enough the four were forced in bed with each other. Naturally the victors were not afforded the luxury of sleepwear or any clothing at all.
Finnick spoke up to distract from the looming possibility of Numi being unable to hold herself together. It was fortunate that Elmira's offer of half a million caps provided the perfect reason for him to get talking.
"No thanks. I'm honoured you think I'm worth that much, truly, but you must understand… thanks to Snow's very generous victor stipend I don't really find myself in need of money like that. I wouldn't have anything to do with it," Finnick explained. "But you know, there is one thing I wouldn't mind having. That is, if it's alright with you miss?"
"Such darling manners," Elmira purred. "Name your price, sweetie."
"Got any secrets to share? I just can't get enough of the scandals that come with upper class living," Finnick smiled his signature dashing grin. "I've been obsessed with it ever since I won the Games."
Elmira moved closer to Finnick, a glimmer of desire and danger in her eyes – naturally, made to resemble those of a fish through the use of Capitol cosmetic surgery.
"Finnick, I've got just the secret for you," she whispered.
So full of lust towards Finnick was she that Elmira forgot there were two others in bed with her. Not that it ended up mattering too much, not when Finnick himself was the one to drop the bombshell barely a few years later.
It was mere minutes after the depraved actions of Grunnix were exposed. Street fights and domestic attacks were starting to take form as secrets of a slightly lesser nature were exposed one by one.
Then Finnick reached the place on the list where Elmira was slotted in.
"Elmira got a three for one deal, buying not only my company but that of Numi and Crimson as well. Let's just say loves hurts… whips, to be specific. I tried my best to spare my friends the worst of it, but Elmira kept buying Numi. As far as I know she did so on nine different occasions," Finnick narrowed his eyes. "But clever as Elmira claims to be she made one tactical error… she told me that she and her cousins used to train hop when they were teenagers and ride out to the districts. They'd make a sport out of killing a district child or two along the way. But family bonding only goes so far, because Elmira killed them both so she could get all the inheritance."
The peacekeepers come for Elmira and drag her away into the night, the women kicking and screaming. Her attempts at resisting arrest earn her a few bullets to the brain and, at the suggestion of two of the lowest ranking peacekeepers, her fancy manor set ablaze.
It's the first of what would be upwards of four hundred buildings set on fire that night.
Those same peacekeepers ended up splitting off from the rest of their comrades and making it to the city limits.
"Good luck making it back to Six Numi," the first one said.
"Same to you my mans, 'cept replace Six with Eight," Numi replied.
The first of the peacekeepers shook his head.
"Can't. My lady needs me over in Ten," Spool smirked from behind the cover of the helmet. "Lammy found an old castle in the outer parts of the district that she thinks might be a safe place for us to hide."
The pair parted with a fist bump. None of the screaming Capitol citizens milling around had any idea who the peacekeepers truly were.
#4
Finnick grew rather used to being sold as the years went by. His body was his, but it truly did not belong to him. That was just the way things were.
Even so, it surprised him that he was literally used as part of the prize pot in a game of cards at the Mendez Casino. Whoever won the card game would have a night with him.
It was sick.
As could be expected it was a card game where cheating was all but inevitable. Fake hands of cards, rigged decks, cards that could change to something else and even a poison dart as a last ditch effort. Finnick could only watch, stumped by what he was seeing.
Even so, he would rather see this than what was going on in the arena right at this moment. His tribute was still alive, but he wasn't overly optimistic of his odds of winning. The Sixty Eighth Games were sure to go down in legend for having the hands down most evil tribute in history. It made Finnick sick.
But, that's another story…
After much dodgy dealing and quadruple handed cheating the overall winner of the card game turned out to be Fabius Westwing. Finnick knew of him in passing as one of the highest ranked peacekeepers within the Capitol.
As the night went on Finnick knew him as at least seventh place on the top ten leaderboard of monsters he'd met in his life.
It was violation. It was pure pain. Even some of the most sex driven citizens of the Capitol would have been shocked by what went on in Fabius' home that night… or, at the very least, would have had to blush over it. Some things just weren't suited for anywhere, whether behind closed doors or not.
Finnick had made it his rule to never break apart or let people know when they got to him. But Fabius truly tested his sheer resolve. The man was a monster, on and off his job.
It made it all the more sinister when, after the deed was done, Fabius made Finnick some admittedly great steak and let him join him in watching the newest episode of Fiona and Lawrence.
Again, Finnick refused payment. He would privately admit the pearl bracelet was a little tempting, but what were pearls compared to secrets?
As it turned out Fabius was more than happy to share a secret of his own. Turned out he'd knew that Titus going insane in the Sixty Sixth Games had been partly due to the head gamemaker despising District Six. Granted, she'd only started it through an order of an injection and the stress of the arena did the rest for her, but the damage was done.
Especially as, due to the way the Games had ended up ending, the awful ending was deemed her own fault and got her killed for it. Her family too, for good measure.
But Fabius was very fond of Finnick and decided to show him a little something extra.
He showed him the monitor room. A place with various screens hooked up to cameras across the city. All of them either bedrooms or bathrooms of people of all ages and sizes.
Finnick almost lost the steak he'd just eaten.
By the time Finnick came to reveal these secrets live on air there were already over a hundred and sixty confirmed deaths around the Capitol. The riots and mayhem were truly getting started now.
"You know Fabius Westwing as a legend among peacekeepers and somebody dedicated to the safety of those in the Capitol," Finnick smirked. "He didn't save head gamemaker Charlie Juniper from being killed by Snow nor her newborn triplets and her husband. Maybe that's why, for years now, he's had cameras in hundreds of homes, watching all of you sleeping, having sex or doing certain things generally performed within the bathroom."
Fabius doesn't manage to run ten steps before somebody – nobody ever works out who – shoots him in the foot.
He lasts two hours under torture before he finally dies, but even then the carnage inflicted to his body does not stop.
All the while people begin to smash their way into the buildings lining the street he'd been standing within and start ransacking the merchandise within.
Hundreds of thousands of Caps worth of products vanish into the night within the next fifteen minutes.
#5
There were times where it was not one of the Capitol elite that bought Finnick for a night or two of depraved delight. Sometimes a common class citizen – by Capitol standards at least – would happen upon some money and decide to show off their wealth and purchase him instead.
This was, of course, no better than when the elite did it but Finnick came to see that those of a lesser background tended not to be into the more disgusted things those at the top were. Oftentimes they were so nervous and starstruck that they hardly ended up doing much besides making out.
In a twisted sense it was almost funny.
But the thing Finnick noticed more than anything was that, while few of the toxic elite would pay attention to those beneath them, those at the bottom were forever watching and making note of those that held sway in the heart of the dystopia.
They were privy to things that those in power wrongly assumed were private.
One such case of this was made evident during the Sixty Sixth Games. The TV in the corner of the room showed the shrimpy boy from Eleven running for his life from the ferocious boy from One across an icy lake, but that wasn't what held Finnick's attention.
It was how the women that booked him out, some nineteen year old club frequenter known as Bellandra Tul, had clearly never so much as kissed a guy before. She could barely kiss Finnick on the cheek without it being awkward for herself.
Finnick took it as more or less a night off from his usual forced duties and allowed himself to inwardly chuckle over his patron's nerves.
"You know, call me crazy, but I'm not so sure that's how making out works," Finnick teased.
"I, um, knew that," Bellandra tried to look confident. She failed. "I was, um… building up the… um… atmosphere…"
"You're a greenhorn," Finnick noted. It wasn't a question. "Not to worry, your secret is safe with me. I've got lots of secrets and not a single one has ever left my mouth."
"Really?" Bellandra asked, amazed.
"Oh, certainly. Oh the stories I could tell, but can't. I'd not betray my fans like that," Finnick shrugged in playful apology. "I'm just that nice I guess."
"You truly are," Bellandra said, torn between squeaky voiced anxiety and genuine dreaminess. "Hey, uh… I have secrets too. Really juicy ones!"
"Oh, do you now?" Finnick asked. He doubted it, but who was he to say no to free information?
"Really! You'll never guess what I overheard at the club the other night," Bellandra insisted, glancing around as if watching for any would-be eavesdroppers.
"Well, don't keep me in suspense," Finnick remarked, winking that trademark wink of his that would send any women into a fit of giggles. "I'm all ears."
Bellandra didn't keep him waiting.
Finnick was legitimately shocked.
So shocked, in fact, that he made certain to bring the secret up during the night he finally got his revenge on the Capitol. It had never been a matter of if he would bring it up, merely when.
The secret was revealed shortly after one of the largest banks of the Capitol had been set ablaze by petrol bombs.
"You know, it never did make any sense that those of a high standing assume those of a lower standing are nothing. The Flawless Estate over in District One did it and we all saw how that went. By the way, rest in peace Peridot," Finnick held a brief silence. "Back to the matter at hand, a particularly shy client patron of mine you might, or likely might not, know as Bellandra Tul once overheard quite the scandal in the bathroom of a club she frequents, the Screaming Tribute. She told me she heard Rancis Winger, our very own famous funk rocker, paying a hitman to kill each member of the much loved Four Mutts group. He deemed them a threat to his success. Incidentally, the remains of the Four Mutts were hidden in the Capitol's biggest park. Twenty paces to the east of the mermaid fountain."
Sure enough, once peacekeepers and civilians alike beeline to the named location, the skeletal remains of the P-Pop band are unearthed, several bones sporting the signs of damage inflicted during the grisly murder.
Rancis ends up little better. It had been his bad luck that he'd been performing for a crowd in a very popular venue at the time his secret was revealed, no way to reach the exit being possible at any time prior, and had a whole crowd coming for him from the moment his secret was out of the bag.
His desecrated corpse was deemed to have suffered water boarding from some sort of corrosive acid. Nobody knew who did it… or, rather, nobody was willing to admit it. It was forever a mystery if his killer survived the mayhem of the night or not.
Meanwhile the hitman that he'd hired ended up no better. He was among those butchered when the riots and destruction ended up triggering a grinder pod by accident, the system mistaking the Capitol crowd for rebels.
#6
There were times where Finnick was not sold off to the highest bidder. At least, not in the normal way. Sometimes he would offer himself to somebody in return for a sizable donation.
Well, admittedly this only happened once ever. Much like the time Mizar sold himself in the Thirteenth Games, it was for the sake of the tribute he was mentoring.
Annie Cresta, the mail girl he'd grown quite the fancy for and friendship with over the years since his own victory.
With the poor girl shaking and twitching madly in a cave, having clearly lost herself in the realm of terror induced madness since her district partner and semi-bodyguard Swell had lost his head, Finnick knew she was going to need some support and soon.
He was several thousand caps short of buying her some highly effective anti-stress medication and an armoured vest.
There was only one thing for it.
The highest bidder ended up being a pair of bidders. Plural. Twins. A pair of gamemakers simply known to all as Valla and Verity. A pair whose shared lust for Finnick overrode the rules of their jobs
All Finnick had needed to do was take off his shirt.
It had been long, it had been harrowing, it had been shameful, it had even involved the use of chilli sauce and a telephone… it had all been worth it to ensure that Annie would have all of the equipment she needed for the coming days in the arena.
"You should buy her something buoyant as well," Valla purred. "That arena is gonna get flooded in a few days."
"Just like we are," Verity added, purring. "Be careful with that information, Mister Odair."
"You can trust me. What is this smile of mine if it's not trustworthy?" Finnick remarked, putting on the charm with practised ease. "See?"
"Such a wonderful man. So wasted in the districts," Verity mused.
"A man like this deserves better," Valla added. "If only you were the head gamemaker Finnick. You'd be so much better than Grizelda."
"Too bad the job is only for Capitol citizens," Verity said, sighing in disappointment.
Finnick wasn't about to let the chance to hear more important information slip through his fingers. "What's so bad about Grizelda?"
The twins did not hesitate to tell all to their favourite victor.
A few years later, around the time several cars had exploded once fire had reached the inner fuel tanks and left the area of the tribute parade desecrated, Finnick made sure to let the Capitol know the truth behind the 'beloved gamemaker' who held the top spot prior to Seneca Crane.
"Do you remember a pair of gamemakers called Valla and Verity? I suppose you wouldn't… they lost their jobs and their lives when they leaked some information to me about the flood late into the Seventieth Games. I don't doubt it was Grizelda who had them killed," Finnick paused to drink more water. "But it wasn't just the twins that Grizelda killed. Turns out that she had a habit of poisoning workers who didn't meet her extreme standards of work and cruelty. No less than forty deaths can be attributed to her. Rumour has it she killed her brother… after being 'with him' of course. You know what they say about family affairs."
Grizelda's brother ends up hanging himself. Grizelda meanwhile finds herself the victim of a swarm of relatives of the gamemakers she had killed throughout her career. She prepared herself for the inevitable attempt on her life by loading a machine gun. Alas, a clip of only fifty bullets did not save her from a horrific fate.
It did, however, kill a further twenty people.
All the while sirens began to ring across the city and squads of peacekeepers attempted to actually live up their names for once and quell the fighting. Alas, it was a job that was proving to be one hell of a hard task.
After all, approximately four thousand fist fights had broken out across the city.
#7
Perhaps the greatest part of his revenge was something Finnick had sadly not lived to see nor hear about. But one could easily imagine how satisfied he would have been to hear it.
Finnick knew all about the way victors were whored out, he knew it well. How could he not? But one thing that had escaped him for years was a simple bit of knowledge… who had actually been the one to start the whole sick thing to begin with? Part of him logically assumed it was either Snow or Orion, but he had no hard proof. Just an assumption he saw no reason to doubt.
He learnt one his most valuable secrets during a night where Kollax Annaco, Minister of Law, bought Finnick for a night of sickening activities. It was after the first night of training leading up to the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games and Finnick was already in a shaken mood that his nephew Urchin was going into the arena.
Being near the vile minister did not make him feel any better.
It turned out, both during and after the activities involving fruits and vegetables, that Kollax was something of an alcoholic. Perhaps a lot more than being something of one… he was addicted to the stuff. So much in fact that when Finnick turned down the offer of a bar of solid gold and asked for a secret he blurted out the most sinister thing he knew.
"The victor prostitution ring was started by a victor," Kollax slurred, trying to recall exactly who it was. "Let's see… aha, it was Bronze. Yeah, he started it after Crimson one. He wanted to fuck her, thought she was hot and everything. He gave the idea to Snow and, well, they're best mates. Snow agreed and pitched it to Orion… that's why we have this lovely night together now…"
Kollax passed out mere seconds after that, but he'd told Finnick everything he needed to know.
It was a good thing Kollax passed out because this time Finnick was unable to control his emotions. He'd smashed up several chairs and a desk before calming down enough to try and make a plan with this information. He knew he could explain the damages as being results of the night's events – Kollax was drunk enough to probably buy it – but what could he do with what he had learnt? Outing Bronze would only get his family killed and not change anything.
Luckily for Finnick the ending of the Games that year and the rebellion that followed gave him the perfect chance to expose this secret.
"Kollax Yewter, our Minister of Law, is very much into creative uses of carrots and bananas. You can work that line of thought out from there," Finnick paused to shudder. "He's very much into beer as well, and you know what he let slip when he used me for the night? He said the entire practise of whoring out victors, of selling us lest our families be killed… it was all started by Bronze Marley. All out of his sick desire to use Crimson when she was a tribute so long ago."
Finnick looked dead on at the camera.
"Snow passed it to Orion and Orion approved it, but Bronze had the idea to begin with. All this suffering rests at his feet. Not just mine, but that of Crimson, Cecelia, Cashmere, Gloss, Numi, Porsche, Platinum, Porter, Blight and more besides," Finnick looked nothing short of formidable in his disgust. "I'll give all of my earthly possessions to whoever is able to bring that monster to justice."
While this incited further outrage and destruction within the Capitol, the real highlight was going on much further away. Indeed, it was happening in the ruins of what had been District Twelve.
Crimson had managed to escape the Capitol towards the start of the rebellion, but she'd not been the only one who did. Among the others that managed to get out before the victor purge began in earnest was Bronze.
He'd been pursuing his 'original conquest' for days and had finally narrowed the gap. The victors fought in the ruins of what had once been a grotty section of the Seam. Even in their age they both put up a solid fight. Bronze was left bruised, but he'd managed to get Crimson on the ground after a lengthy battle.
"Isn't this just like old times," the arrogant old man purred. "Just like that night in the hedge maze."
Crimson screamed for help as Bronze licked her cheek, ready to commit the deed that had become second nature to him over the years.
Unlike the thousands of other times she'd called for help… somebody heard.
Someone came.
Two someones, in fact. Crown and Harp had been amongst those who had gotten out of the Capitol and had been living like nomads in the meantime, always on the move to avoid capture. It had been pure luck alone they had been in the area at the time of Crimson and Bronze's battle.
Crown grabbed Bronze off of Crimson and practically judo flipped him to the ground. As the lifelong enemies began to brawl Harp helped Crimson move away from the fight.
"Thank you thank you thank you," Crimson whispered, sobbing into Harp's shoulder.
"Welcome. You welcome," Harp gently hugged Crimson towards her.
The women watched as the men battled under the moonlight. Harp lacked any combat ability and Crimson was out of breath, so for now Crown was on his own.
He was just fine.
After all, Bronze had lived a life of excess. Gourmet food, wines, party drugs and all the worst of temptations. All Crown had ever partaken in was candy, but even then he still made sure to look after himself.
That was why it was only a minute and a half before Crown landed one hell of a right hook into Bronze's face. Blood exploded from his nose and two teeth went flying out. The monster from One collapsed, knocked out and suddenly lacking any of the good looks he'd managed to keep into his old age.
Harp and Crimson made their way back over as Crown got to his feet.
"…Should we kill him?" Crown asked, speaking slowly for once.
"Yes," Crimson narrowed her eyes, darkness filling them. "I know just what to do with this man. He ruined my life. Time to ruin what's left of his…"
Crown and Harp could only watch Crimson with sympathy and wariness, wondering what the poor women was going to do to Bronze.
So harsh was her plan that, when Bronze regained consciousness, he near instantly pissed himself.
He'd had spikes hammered into his hands and feet.
He'd had his genitals cut apart.
He'd been tied to a wooden pole.
Wood, straw and other flammable things were set at the base of the pole.
Crimson held a lighter.
"No… no… please, no…" Bronze could barely speak through the agony.
"Die," Crimson hissed, placing the lighter a mere centimetre away from the bonfire. The wind was blowing hard, it would only be a matter of time until fire met straw.
Bronze was left all alone in the wreckage of the poorest district of Panem, screaming and pleading for his life. Crown and Harp left to stay by the edge of the district until Crimson was ready to join them. They did not think Bronze deserved their attention.
Meanwhile Crimson did not look away until the fire had consumed Bronze and burnt his body down to smouldering ash.
It was a long way until anything resembling safety and there was no guarantee she would survive the night, but for the first time in decades Crimson felt quite content.
All the while the chaos continued to get worse and worse within the Capitol. After all, the last secret was perhaps the most shocking of them all.
#8
"And now, onto our good friend President Snow," Finnick idly began to crack his knuckles as he spoke. "Such as young man when he rose to power. Such a clever one to keep it. How, you must ask yourself, did he do it? One word. That's all you really need to know. Poison."
The Capitol watched in suspense as Finnick rattled off the names of several people who had leaked bits and pieces over the years which he'd managed to put together to form the answer. Snow, joined by some of his very nervous ministers, watched as Finnick continued to list names. Over forty all in all.
The ministers were, by now, terrified.
Snow just watched, rather nonplussed all things considered. On some level he was impressed by Finnick's display. On every other level he was making a mental note of who to have killed. Each person who let out a secret to Finnick would be getting a gruesome fate once the rebels were put down.
"He poisoned Orion and took his power. The crackdown on the districts afterwards was to cover what he himself did. In fact, Shunt's death is his fault too. It was intended for Isobel, so they say, but Shunt drank first. Though I have heard talk of Snow once hiring a man known only as The Grim to take out threats to himself, including Isobel and Mascara. Of course, Mascara killed The Grim first. His own family, killed by poison in their tea when they seemed a bit too hungry for power. Of all things, it got blamed on bad shellfish. Four suffered terribly for it."
It kept going like this for what seemed like forever, though in reality was not any longer than ten minutes. Gamemakers poisoned for failures, assuming they weren't fed to the woodchipper first. Political rivals dropping dead under mysterious means with unknown, non-existent district born assassins claiming their lives. Snow's own allies, with the notable exception of Bronze, dying off under similar means any time they seemed too powerful and full of desire for their own chance at the top.
Finnick reminded the audience of the roses Snow always wore. He mentioned the sores in his mouth. The fact they would never heal.
The fact Snow smelt like blood.
"Cut," said Finnick, once the last of his secrets had been exposed.
The feed died and the Capitol was left to tear itself apart throughout the night. Secret for secret, blood for blood, life for life.
By sunrise almost a quarter of the Capitol was destroyed and ten percent of the population had been utterly annihilated. It had taken everything the peacekeepers had to restore peace.
Of course, it was hardly peace. Not when many people had ended up with their lives seemingly ruined.
Even the common class children weren't exempted from this.
Just one case among many was a young romantic who sobbed near his burning home. He'd been orphaned during the chaos of the night when arsonists burnt his home and parents. All he had left was the clothes on his back and being shunted a step closer to his destiny… but that's another story.
"Rest in peace Finnick, you won't be forgotten," Peeta said.
"He'll be forever remembered in legend, no doubt about it," Katniss agreed.
The couple continued to walk down the street. It was mere moments before they came to the next face upon the sidewalk.
The terrified face of a small boy looked back at them, looking like he was midway through whimpering. His eyes were wide, his hair was particularly messy and his eyebrows seemed exceptionally thick.
"Spud Munroe. We both remember him," Peeta looked a little sickly all of a sudden. "Never saw his win coming, but really… nobody paid attention to him did he?"
"I doubt anybody did. Not when Titus was in the arena with him," Katniss shivered at the mention of the infamous boy's name. "Spud's win was pure luck. Right place, right time… right opponent."
Hope I did Finnick justice here guys. I'd say he's the victor people are most likely to have had lofty expectations for, and rightfully so. I mean, it's Finnick! I have to say, writing all that out and the secrets he leant had me feeling slightly ill at certain points. I guess that's what you'd call effective storytelling, or at least gross storytelling? In any case I liked how this one ended up going and I hope you guys do too. It was also fun how, due to the nature of the format, I was able to tie up a few loose ends of other victors and give future victors little cameos here and there. Hope you guys are ready for the next victor, the Games of a certain cannibal loom… and those of a victor with a very low training score…
Stats
District 1: Peridot Gaudy (8th Games), Crystal McCree (14th Games), Bronze Marley (19th Games), Crown Martins (24th Games), Dollar Dettwieller (32nd Games), Mascara Court (41st Games), Platinum Twist (44th Games), Gloss Lord (63rd Games), Cashmere Lord (64th Games)
District 2: Baron Overwhill (4th Games), Runa Peace (7th Games), Olga Machete (10th Games), Rook Valiant (17th Games), Boulder Atherston (20th Games), Vercingetorix Carnby (25th Games), Dragon Batofel (27th Games), Rhyder Overwhill (39th Games), Mercy Gregor (46th Games), Brutus Gunn (49th Games), Lyme Rabe (51st Games), Enobaria Golding (62nd Games)
District 3: Honorius Perthshire (5th Games), Pi Orbit (22nd Games), Beetee Latier (37th Games), Wiress Plummer (47th Games), Yohan Fairbane (58th Games)
District 4: Museida Selkirk (3rd Games), Mags Flanagan (11th Games), Tide Luther (23rd Games), Librae Ogilvy (35th Games), Anchor Paddock (52nd Games), Finnick Odair (65th Games)
District 5: Shunt Gaspar (12th Games), Isobel Sparks (18th Games), Crimson Flanders (29th Games), Porter Tripp (38th Games), Neon Erg (48th Games), Wattzon Holmes (55th Games), Arendellian Spinner III (57th Games)
District 6: Chassis Macalister (31st Games), Bentley Corduroy (54th Games), Porsche London (56th Games)
District 7: Pliny Aransio (2nd Games), Fir Buzz (9th Games), Jack Tylos (21st Games), Snag Nakamura (34th Games), Blight Jordan (53rd Games), Logger Barlow (61st Games)
District 8: Woof Casino (16th Games), Paige Murphy (30th Games), Spool Nylon (42nd Games), Cecelia Mog (60th Games)
District 9: Mizar Aldjoy (1st Games), Gwenith Rosebud (13th Games), Teff Withers (28th Games), Laurel Flamsteel (36th Games), Tabbock Summers (43rd Games), Trevy Vex (Escaped 55th Games)
District 10: Stallion March (26th Games), Lammy Phyronix (40th Games), Pasture Gallows (59th Games)
District 11: Bear Redfoot (15th Games), Seeder Howell (33rd Games), Chaff Mitchell (45th Games)
District 12: Duke Saint-Rose (6th Games), Haymitch Abernathy (50th Games)