I don't think you're all ready for the roller coaster ride that is this chapter, but I sure am ready for your reactions. And I apologize for any mistakes, I didn't get much time to proofread, hope that's okay.

Ch. 19- Paradise Lost

Drenched in blood, just like Prim had been, Cato stood at the opening to the clearing where Peeta and Gale stood. But all Peeta could focus on were his eyes. His usually warm and inviting chocolate eyes were so dark and piercing that Peeta gasped. For a moment Peeta thought he was looking into the beetle black eyes of his long dead enemy, Stasson. Cato stood stalk still, every muscle—black with blood—tensed and coiled, like a jungle cat bracing for the attack. Then he turned on his heel and ran from them, disappearing like a bloody ghost of the past into the foreboding jungle.

"Wait!" Peeta shouted, but it was no use. He knew Cato wouldn't listen, not at the moment and they were still in the section of the jungle with the beast. It could re-emerge at any moment. With out looking at Gale Peeta took off running after Cato, calling out over his shoulder. "Follow me, we have to get back to the beach."

The sun was now far behind the mountains and darkness blanketed the Arena. Everything was silent again in the jungle like someone had cupped their hands over his ears muffling everything. An unnatural void of sound that left Peeta's mind with nothing to focus on but the dread running through his mind and the twisting of his gut into knots like the roots of a tree. They might never come undone. It was a permanent growth.

What have I done?

Shallow pants let Peeta know that Gale was following close behind. He was glad Gale didn't trying to talk at the moment or it would have been too much. He couldn't deal with it all—like how or why Gale was here, what that kiss meant, what he was going to say to Cato—not now and yet he had too. The forest whipped and lashed out at Peeta from the darkness as they ran, much like his mind suddenly lobbed a horrible thought at him like a branch from the dark. He pushed on towards the beach, trying to focus on the burn in his thighs. They felt like jelly with the amount of running he'd done. Bombs might have gone off and he wouldn't have noticed, nothing could penetrate him at the moment. The destruction that was Cato's face kept replaying before his eyes and he picked up the pace, hoping to reach the beach soon. Hoping he'd catch up to Cato.

Thankfully there were no more nasty encounters with the beast or the remaining Careers. They made it to the beach where relative safety laid and sound returned like the flipping of a switch. The gentle lapping of the water against the sand was the most prominent. Peeta quickly spotted Cato storming away from them towards the Cornucopia. He followed him to one of the sand bars, but he couldn't catch his breath and it wasn't exhaustion from the run. He bent over with both hands on his knees and tried to breath. Gale put a tentative hand on his back, but Peeta shrugged it off and stood. He had to face this now. He couldn't wait. His throat froze up, but he pushed past the blockage and finally yelled.

"Cato, stop." Peeta said. He kept moving. "Stop! You have to face me."

The dark figure that was Cato froze. Then he turned and thrust back towards Peeta like a charging bull, his chest puffed and his face hidden in shadows making his approach all the more intimidating. The moon had yet to rise and everything seemed bathed in a compressing gloom.

"You don't get to tell me what I have to do." Cato growled as he bore down on Peeta, shoving a bloody finger into his chest. Peeta flinched. There would definitely be a bruise. "You don't get to tell me anything!"

"Whoa, hand's off." Gale warned, inserting himself between Cato and Peeta

Cato's eyes flashed like a spark of lightning and Peeta groaned, knowing Gale had made the wrong move. Before he could react Cato right fist shot forward from the dark and slammed into Gale's jaw, knocking him off the sand bar and into the water with an explosive splash. His fist was caked in blood, but his whole body was so Peeta wasn't sure what the damage was going to be to Gale.

"Cato!" Peeta reprimanded, shoving past him to try and offer a hand to Gale. Luckily it seemed like he knew how to swim and he treaded water back to the sand bar. He pulled himself up and before he could make a move Peeta shoved him back, "Stay out of this." Then seeing his eyes, midnight blue like the sky above—filled with nothing but worry, Peeta added, "Please."

Gale nodded and stepped back, bringing a hand to rub his bruised jaw.

Turning back to Cato, Peeta breathed out a ragged breath. Cato wouldn't even make eye contact. His breaths came out in short, violent puffs, giving off the image of a pissed bull. Peeta reached forward, wanting to try and calm him, but he jumped back as if Peeta's hand were a scalding hot poker. Peeta's chest tightened and his eyes burned with a pressure that swelled behind them. An indication of tears that wanted to come, but he had no right to them. Not now.

"I—I'm so—"

"No," Interrupted Cato. "Don't you dare say it. You don't get to say that."

Peeta was acutely aware of Gale's proximity behind him. He was trying to give them space, but he hovered just close enough to intervene if things got violent again.

"You're right, but please just hear me out." Peeta begged, but as to what he had to say even he didn't know. He just knew they had to talk. Now, before it was too late.

It might already be.

"Hear what?" Cato barked a condescending laugh towards the sky before crossing his arms, making him look bulkier than before. He was wearing his muscles and aggression like armor. At one time Peeta knew how to break through that tough exterior he wore like a mask, but now he wasn't so sure. He yearned to reach out and touch him, but all the secrets that he'd kept from Cato, now out in the open, created a barrier he just couldn't breach.

"Hear how while I was held hostage," Cato continued, "Starved, and tortured by my own district you were busy replacing me with the first person with a dick who gave you an ounce of attention?"

"That's not fair!" Peeta interjected. His heart was pounding so hard he thought for sure it would beat right out of his chest. Or maybe it would just give out, completely spent. It felt like a jackhammer against his ribcage and it caused everything he said to come out in a stutter, making him seem weaker—indecisive.

"No, you know what's not fair?" Cato's arms unlatched and he clenched fists at his side. He was shaking with unbridled anger as he spoke, moving in so close to Peeta that he could feel the heat emanating from him along with the foul smell of the rotted blood coating his body. "That I loved you with everything I had, everything I could give and when I thought everyone had turned on me, when I thought I'd die in that basement you were all that kept me going. When I was close to just giving up I'd remember your face. I'd remember that you were out there and that our love was something special, something worth fighting for. Now I find you've abandoned me too. I should have listened to my instincts because I knew something was different about you. I knew you were hiding something, but I couldn't bring myself to believe you'd defile our love!"

"That's not true. I never meant to do any of that!" Peeta gasped. His voice broke unevenly and he cringed at the weakness of it. The pressure behind his eyes was unbearable. It was like he was watching the scene play out before him underwater and he could barely form the words he wanted to speak. "Thing's hadn't been good between us long before Gale and I happened. You know that as mush as I do and don't you pretend it!" Peeta was on the verge of indignant anger and he knew he had to rein it in. So he took a breath and calmed before proceeding. "Your calls became less and less frequent. You blamed me for hiding Snows decision from you. Then you disappeared and I couldn't get a hold of you. You were just gone and I had no idea what happened. How could I? I didn't know what to think—"

"Well now you don't have to," Cato interrupted. This time he wasn't quaking with anger. He was still. A calm had descended over him and his voice was a smooth as silk. It was more startling than anything he'd done or said before. "Because I'm gone and this is over."

Then Cato lifted his left hand and Peeta wanted to flinch, but he remained still, refusing to look away from Cato's face—even if he couldn't do the same. But Cato didn't hit him. Instead he tore the engagement ring he had made on the rooftop of the training center and chucked it at Peeta's chest. It may have been made of young, springy bark—weighing no more than a small thimble—but when it hit his chest it felt like a bullet. It tore through the flesh and muscle of his chest, perfectly aimed at his heart. It took all his strength just to keep it beating. Cato turned his back on Peeta and walked away, disappearing in the distance into the dark abyss that threatened to swallow them all and Peeta just watched; all the fight drained from his system by that one action. There was nothing left to give. Nothing left to be said.

It was as if a space had opened up inside Peeta and was rapidly expanding outward. He couldn't breath. Everything was being displaced by the growing space in his chest. It felt like something was forever lost to him. Irrevocably broken. A sob echoed across the beach and Peeta jumped backwards, startled to know it came from him. He landed against the solid chest of Gale, whose arms wrapped around him and hugged him as his legs gave out and he collapsed to the sand, one leg slipping into the warm bath water of the ocean that banked them on either side.

Gripping the strong, but not overpowering arms of Gale's that held Peeta in place, he let the tears finally escape. He quietly sobbed into the dark night and grieved for everything he'd lost and for everything he'd done. There were too many mistakes to count. Too many loses to suffer. Peeta remembered a conversation he had with Cato when Portia's death threatened to overwhelm him. How he'd said Snow wanted to take everything from him and how Cato had said so simply, but convincingly 'then we wont let him.'

Maybe they never had a chance. Maybe they had just been deluding themselves. There was nothing they could do. There was nothing he could do. He was just a stupid boy. Nothing more. No symbol of hope or power. He wasn't the mockingjay. The only thing they'd ever got right was that he was on fire. Everything was burning. It was all burning down until there would be nothing left of him, but ash and the broken hope of a nation. Peeta hated that the whole nation was watching this moment too; that they got to share in on his heartbreak. Was he letting them down too? After all those people had fought for their chance to survive in the first games and then he slapped them in the face by kissing Gale. It was like cement bricks had been tied to his feet and he'd been dropped in the deepest part of the ocean. It carried him down, deeper and deeper, to the darkest depths that no man had reached before and the pressure of it all threatened to crush his bones and break his spirit. It was merciless as the depths pushed down upon him, beating and bruising his body until it was just as broken and mangled feeling as his soul.

"I'm so sorry, Peeta… you don't deserve this…" Gale whispered gently against Peeta's ear. His lips just barely grazing against the shell of his ear as he tried to soothe him, but there was nothing that could be said to solve the situation. Ever since he had returned to the Capitol his relationship with Cato had been untenable. It was only a matter of time before the spider webbing of lies all crashed down and it was Peeta's fault for not facing it head on. He was a coward. He should have told him. Instead he hid it and let the secrets and lies fester until the foul smell of them could no longer be disguised—like a diseased wound turning on its host.

A flashing light and the faint, but growing beep that accompanied it awoke Peeta from his grief. He looked up to see a gift, sent by someone's sponsors, float haphazardly through the sky before setting down in the water just before the Cornucopia. The waves gently pushed it up against the sand and Peeta finally realized he had an audience. Prim and Finnick, along with Johanna and Beetee all stood at the opening of the Cornucopia watching him. All their eyes were unreadable from such a distance, but Peeta could tell they each held varying degrees of sympathy and judgment.

So Peeta took one final deep breath and then stood, storing Cato's ring in the breast pocket over his heart next to the mockingjay pin, another symbol of which he was unworthy to carry. It felt like a hundred pound weight now hung over his heart and every beat was a struggle—a reminder of the weight of what he'd done. Gale offered a hand to steady him, but Peeta pushed him aside. His stomach clenched, but he couldn't be bothered to care. He couldn't bear to look at Gale at the moment, but he was glad to see that at least Gale had been thinking through out this whole ordeal and had the presence of mind to bring Peeta's bow and arrow with him from the clearing. It had completely skipped his mind and with out Gale it probably would still be in that clearing. But instead of thanking him he chose to move forward, picking up the bow and shouldering the sheath of arrows. He had to figure out what happened, why Gale was here, what was going on, why were Johanna and Beetee now with them? But at the moment he chose to focus on the least troubling question, what was in the sponsor's gift?

Reaching the Cornucopia Peeta stood before the others for a moment in paralyzed fear, not sure what to say. Johanna had the small metal box in her hands, open and its contents visible. Finnick and her both exchanged a knowing look. They knew something Peeta didn't, but what he couldn't figure out as it was just a bunch of bread from different districts. Finally Prim broke the silence and rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Peeta.

"I'm glad to see you." She breathed into his chest.

She was cleansed of the blood he had seen her earlier in, but there was still blood around her cuticles and clumps in her hair. He figured she must have cleaned off in the water. The origins of the blood seemed unimportant.

"Me too," Peeta replied, leaning into the hug and putting his arms around her.

Johanna wasted no time with pleasantries and stormed past Peeta. The box of bread dropped to the sand. She pushed right up into Gale's space and held an axe against his throat.

"Anybody care to tell me who the hell this guy is?"

"Hey!"

"Don't!"

"Stand down Johanna," Finnick ordered, moving forward and putting a firm hand on her bony shoulder. "He's someone from Peeta's home district. As to how he's here, I have no idea, but I'd sure like to get some answers."

Beetee stepped forward, inserting himself into the scene and spoke evenly. "Yes, it's completely unprecedented to find anyone in the Arena besides a tribute. Do you remember anything as to how you got put here?"

"Either way we are running out of time," Johanna grumbled, begrudgingly lowering her axe from Gale's throat and stepping back. She wiped the back of her hand under her nose and sniffed.

"What do you mean?" Peeta asked, planting himself between her and Gale, but still keeping his back to him.

"Nothing, we've just got to end this is all."

"I have an idea, with this wire here," Beetee showed to everyone in one hand. It looked like normal enough wire, gold in color and tightly wound into a thick coil. There were probably hundreds of feet of it. "We can get rid of all our enemies at once if we lure them to the beach right as the lightening strike that big tree."

Everyone looked towards the charred tree in the distance, now visible with the help of the full moon light. Peeta wasn't sure he got it, but Beetee's mind moved at a much faster pace than his it seemed.

"But what about Cato?" Prim asked and Peeta felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

What about him? What were they going to do now? They couldn't just leave him out there, but he was one man in a vast Arena. Peeta felt sick to his stomach with the inundation of what if scenarios that flashed before his mind's eye. Now everyone Peeta loved was in the Quarter Quell and would probably die.

Loved. The word spun around and around in Peeta's brain. Did he… did he really feel that way for Gale? And what of Cato? Could he really love two people? Could he be so selfish?

Before anyone could respond there was a huge roar as a giant wave ripped through the forest near where the beast's section had been. It suddenly flooded out onto the beach, carrying with it all sorts of jungle debris that ends up deposited in the seawater. Everyone shuddered at the thought of having been trapped in that.

Then Gale sidestepped around Peeta and put himself in the center of the situation.

"If we are going to do anything we will need to move fast. They aren't just going to sit by and let me live."

"Who's not going to let you live?" Johanna demanded. "What type of danger did you bring on us now?"

Finnick reached out and put a hand on her shoulder again, but she slapped it off this time. "I don't need you trying to calm me down. I've been on the fucking run from those psycho careers for the better part of a week now, trying to keep Wiress and Beetee alive for you," Johanna stared directly at Peeta with fearsome eyes. "And now I finally find you only to find an even more fucked up situation!"

"Hey, I didn't ask you to do any of that!"

"Well it happened and you better find it in you to be grateful because with out us your ass would be royally screwed—more so than usual."

The sneer on Johanna's face lit something in Peeta he didn't know had been lying dormant waiting to spark and he lunged at her with both fists. A snarl erupted from Johanna's mouth as he slammed into her knocking her to the ground, but before either of them could do anything but howl like animals they were ripped apart by Finnick and Gale.

"Enough of this! Fighting between us will get us no where." Finnick growled, his sea green eyes flashing threateningly. Every feature on his face was hardened and tense, no longer just a pretty face.

"I don't know," Peeta said while struggling in Gale's arms, almost being lifted off his feet at points. "Killing her means one less person to worry about. We don't know if we can trust her and it doesn't matter anyways with so few of us left. And will you get your hands off me Hawthorne!"

The strong grip around Peeta's abdomen suddenly disappeared and Gale withdrew from him as if he'd scalded him. But Peeta was glad to be free of his oppressive touch. He couldn't handle it at the moment, any of it. Johanna pulled herself up, dusting the sand from her body and ready to give a biting retort when Prim stomped her foot and shouted, "Enough!

"Will you all stop acting like such children? My god, it's like you all have a death wish or something. The only way for us to survive is if we work together. And I don't care what either of you think!" Prim pointed at both Johanna and Peeta, her olive eyes calm yet determined. "I trust both of you, so let's just put aside everything for the moment and hear what Gale has to say."

Peeta gaped at Primrose like he'd never seen her before. He wasn't sure who this strong, determined girl standing before him was, but she deserved to be listened to.

"Fine." Peeta bit out.

"Yeah, whatever." Johanna cracked her back and acted like she could care less, twirling the small axe like a baton.

"Thanks Prim," Gale said gruffly, like there was something in his throat. Peeta fought the urge to analyze him. He still couldn't bring himself to look directly at Gale. Not after what they'd done to Cato. "I'm sure the camera's haven't been watching us for a while. They've been doing some real selective editing this year trying to keep everyone in the dark about what they've been doing in the games and what you've been saying. But the gist of it is we're in the midst of a full scale rebellion."

If there had been any doubt about wanting to listen to Gale before everyone was stone still and attentive. What he said didn't make sense to Peeta and yet it was the only explanation for everything that had happened.

"That's why the Quarter Quell started early."

"Yes," Gale's eyes settled on Peeta and this time he couldn't look away. He wanted nothing more than to get lost in them; to swim in their deep blue depths and find comfort, but that was more than wrong, it was treacherous. "You're mockingjay themed costume at the Opening Ceremonies ignited it, at least in District 12. No one could stand by anymore and just let them kill you—and Prim or anymore of our young. But I know most of the other Districts are fighting back too. I've been working with some mysterious group that's backing the rebellion. They never told me much at all, but they have connections to each District and have been providing us with vital info and much needed supplies, like guns and medical supplies."

"Who is this mysterious group?" Beetee asked, intrigue written all over his worn face.

"No idea, they never told us more than we needed. One idea is that their Capitol sympathizers."

Peeta had to sit down. Johanna quirked one eyebrow at Finnick and Beetee nodded knowingly—like it was some simple math problem and he had just completed the equation, but Peeta was too exhausted to care what any of it meant. The realization that he had sparked an all out war was too much. And on top of it Portia had been a part of it. Her actions and Peeta's status were directly linked to her death. That's what she had been hiding from Peeta. The fashion industry wasn't upset with her, the Capitol was. But how could Peeta, one person, have incited a whole nation to rise up? Was this why Snow had been so worried by Peeta?

"My mom? Is she okay?" Prim pushed past Peeta on the sand to right in front of Gale, looking at him with desperately big eyes.

"Yes, we've got safe houses all over the district and move between them frequently to confuse the Peacekeepers as to our location. She's very important to the rebels since she is one of our few medics in the district." Gale pulled her in to a side armed hug and then his eyes fell back to Peeta yet again. "Your family is fine too. But things could have changed—"

"So how'd you get here?" Johanna demanded.

"Johanna, isn't it obvious?" Beetee supplied. "They're using fear tactics to try and quell the uprising."

"He's right." Gale answered, facing her with a stare that showed he wasn't afraid of her. Peeta registered the shrill clicking sound of thousands of insects coming to life in the jungle behind them. The final section had triggered before the lightning strike. There wasn't much time left.

"The Capitol has been capturing rebel leaders and sending them into the middle of the Arena where they're killed and made an example of to the rest of Panem. I was caught a few days ago in a firefight and that's how I ended up here. I think I'm the first to have survived. They usually time it perfectly to coincide with the triggering of a deadly section of the jungle."

"That explains it." Finnick said, looking at Peeta meaningfully. "Why we've heard all those deaths, saw that man die in the fog, but haven't heard any canons. They've been rebels. Is there no low the Capitol won't stoop to?"

"Are the rebels coming for us?" Prim asked hopefully. "I mean they want to rescue us, right? That's why this started—to save us."

She bounced back and forth on the balls of her feet hopefully. Now Peeta paid his full attention to Gale; he couldn't fight the creeping sensation of hope. That maybe there was a way out for everyone. Maybe they could all make it out of this hell alive and he wouldn't have to lose anymore than he already had. But Gale's downturned face quickly smothered that hope in its infancy.

"I don't think so. I'm sorry Prim. In the beginning I think that is what we had hoped. If we rose up the games might have been canceled and then we could have eventually got to you in the Capitol. But instead they sent you to the Arena early and no one has the slightest idea where this place could be. I think we're on our own."

"Either way we're running out of time," Johanna said determinedly, stashing her axe in the belt around her waist.

Peeta finally stood, tired of being kept in the dark. Everything seemed to be happening to him and he had no control. He was over it. It was time he took matters into his hands.

"What do you mean times running out? What are you not telling us?"

"The lightning strikes at midnight, we've got to set up the wire—" Beetee began when he was cut off by a horrible howl. It sounded like the cross between a beaten dogs cry and the slippery hiss of a snake that dragged on far too long, settling cold fear into the pit of Peeta's stomach.

"What was that?" Prim asked, backing up from the waters edge towards the mouth of the Cornucopia.

Everyone tensed up on high alert. It was a completely new sound, one not heard in the Arena before. Peeta retrieved his bow and arrow and Finnick motioned for everyone to move inward, making us a smaller target. Gale ran over to the Cornucopia and retrieved a pickaxe, something he was greatly familiar with from the mines. Prim now held two small daggers, one in each hand, and more lining her belt.

There were splashes and suddenly terrible beasts launched out of the dark depths of the water as if fired from a cannon. They stood upright like men, but they were covered in black reptilian scales and had long snouts like that of an alligator with serrated teeth. Their eyes glowed a menacing yellow and they moved with an unnerving smoothness like a snake.

Prim screamed as more invaded the beach and charged us. Peeta strung an arrow and fired at the nearest one, taking it down with a shot directly in its open mouth and out the back of its skull.

"We can't fight all of these!" Finnick shouted. "Let's trail the wire and get to the tree. Maybe we can lose them in the jungle."

Everyone turned and ran. Heading towards the nearest two spokes of sand that would lead them to the section of the forest housing the black charred tree. Peeta wasn't sure how much time they had left, less than an hour, but was it enough time to make it to the tree? Adrenaline coursed through his veins spurring him on like the engine of one of the Capitol trains. The chorus of insect noise grew louder as they ran towards the beach ringing the sea and behind them—hot on their tail and never dissipating in sound—were the hissing howls of the muttations. He heard more splashes as they dove back into the water. They were probably just as agile on land as they were in water.

Prim was ahead of Peeta and Beetee close behind. He could hear his labored breaths as he raced to keep up with the younger tributes. He must have been long out of shape since he won his games and Peeta worried he wouldn't be able to keep up. Johanna, Finnick and Gale raced along the sand bar to his right and Peeta kept close track of Gale through his peripherals.

"We have to find Cato!" Prim shouted back to Peeta as they ran.

She was right, but he had made his decision to abandon them and they couldn't waste time with a search party when being chased by Gamemaker mutts sent to kill Gale and them. His eyes caught the sight of movement in the water to his left and he fired an arrow, just barely grazing the mutts snout and landing in its shoulder. It hissed and gurgled in the water, but was soon replaced by another one that swam in its place. Shouts from the others told him they were dealing with the same problem. Mutts were flanking them from either side of the water.

One clawed hand sprung from the water at Peeta and slashed at his leg. Its claws ripped across his kneecap in searing pain. He tripped and fell, only barely hanging on to the sand bar and managing not to fall into the water. The snarling mutt climbed from the water, its snout chomping for a bite of Peeta. He tried to grab another arrow from his sheath on his back, but the mutt was too fast. He kicked with his good leg and landed a hit right to the side of its head. It yelped in pain and then fell dead to the ground between his legs. Peeta breathed a sigh of relief, but couldn't understand how his kick killed it. Then he saw the knife protruding from the back of its skull. Prim.

Looking up to thank her he saw another mutation pull up onto the sand bar between them.

"Run, Prim! Go."

She didn't have to be told twice and quickly ran towards the beach. Snarls, splashes and shouts filled the air as they battled against the onslaught of lizard mutts. Beetee shouted behind Peeta for help and he quickly sprung to his feet, pushing down the fear that lodged itself in his throat like a thick cotton ball. He had to fight. His heat was pounding so hard he could hear each beat clearly in his ears, echoing back and forth.

A lizard mutt was on top of Beetee, but had become tangled in the gold wiring. Beetee must have managed to wrap it around its snout before it could attack. He was very adept at using the tool. It was the only thing keeping him alive, as the lizard couldn't get its jaw open with the wire tightly coiled around it. It raised its clawed hand to slash at him and Peeta dove into action, ripping the dagger from the lizard's head Prim had killed and then charging the mutt atop Beetee. Another mutt tried to attack him from the water and he threw all the power he had behind a kick with his right leg and it hit home right under the snout of the mutt, sending its head springing backward with a terrible snap. Then he dove into the lizard atop Beetee, knocking it off him and brought the dagger up and into the side of the lizard's neck. Green puss oozed out over his hand and a pungent smell filled the air. Peeta gagged. The mutt gurgled and choked on its blood. His heart pulsed brashly against his ribcage. Thwump, thwump. A snarl not unlike the muttations slipped from Peeta's lips.

Standing and pushing the dead lizard mutt with the tip of his foot it fell into the water with a splash, sinking from sight in the dark murky water. Hissing howls sung all around like flutes, threatening to confuse and disorient, but for Peeta it was all crystal clear. Everything was one shade, dulled. Except for the mutts. They shone like beacons in the dark. Training his eyes towards them like insects drawn to the flicker of a flame.

"C'mon Peeta, the others have already reached the beach!"

Peeta struggled back to reality and saw Beetee standing before him wide eyed and fearful, green puss smeared down the side of his neck. What had happened? His head throbbed. Everything was mass confusion. People were screaming for them from the beach.

Suddenly they were running again, Beetee in front of him. Peeta focused on the back of his head. Graying hairs coiled short and tight against the smooth brown skin of his head. He could run faster than this, but Beetee only had one speed. Ahead of him the others stood at the edge of the beach trying to ward off the mutts, but there were so many and they wanted Gale.

"Go! GO! We'll meet at the tree!" Peeta shouted.

His heart stuttered and throbbed in his chest like it was a size too big. It wasn't working properly. He feared the Capitol technology was failing him. He was going crazy.

Finnick and Johanna must have agreed with Peeta's assessment of the situation because they each took hold of Prim and Gale and forced them up the beach and into the line of foliage, mutts hot on their trail hissing and snapping. More lizard like monsters rose up from the water all around Peeta; two behind, one in front. Peeta slowed for one second to take aim over his shoulder and fire an arrow, landing a perfect shot to the heart of the man-like lizard—if it had one. Green blood burst forth over its black scales and it collapsed, dead, the mutt behind it tripping up over its body.

"We've got to leave one end of this coil in the water as a conduit," Beetee forced through his exhausted breath. "Then bring the other end up to wrap around the base of the lightning tree. It's imperative that right before it strikes you need to tie it to your arrow and aim for the—Arg!"

The mutt ahead of them had finally reached Beetee and before he could fling the wire at the thing it had it's claws dug into the side of him and they tipped over, both splashing into the ocean water. Panic clawed at Peeta's insides like the raking of the lizard's talons over his organs. His mind was reeling. So many mutts to kill. Dirty, filthy, evil mutts.

Thwump.

Beetee! He had to help him. Beetee had been trying to tell him something. Something important .His gurgling scream rose up out of the water as he fought with the creature. Peeta wasted not another second, slinging the bow over his shoulder and diving into the water. He pierced the inky black water like a bullet, straight for Beetee and the mutt. He let the warmth of the water calm his fears. He could swim. It was simple just kick and paddle, like Finnick said. Don't think about it.

There was movement all around him, darting in and out of his line of sight in the murky water. Debris carried from the tidal wave floated aimlessly through the water. His eyes burned from the saltiness. His lungs strained for oxygen, but he kicked his feet and swam right into the midst of Beetee and the mutt. He landed a punch to the monster's stomach, but it seemed to do nothing, the weight of the water dulling the impact. He pulled Beetee back and they kicked towards the surface, breaching it with harsh gasps for air. The mutt followed and Beetee's scream rang out across the beach. Blood stained the water around them as it poured from a wound on his shoulder where his flesh hung in tatters. The mutt has slashed him. Peeta pulled an arrow from the case on his back and stabbed at the beast. Then the lens flipped and everything was gray and dull. Monsters were all around him and he knew what to do. He had to kill them. All of them.

Suddenly another mutt pulled them back under the surface. They sank further into the darkness. Shadows were all around. Twigs and leaves swirled about. Nothing was visible. Nothing except for the moon's light reflecting off slimy black scales. He stabbed with the arrow right into the glowing yellow eye of one of the mutts. It screeched and bubbles filled his view. Then another mutt was before him and he slashed with the tip of the arrow at the monster. It would die.

Kill. Kill. Kill.

Stab. Stab. Stab.

The monotony of the task at hand played through his now quiet mind. Blood filled his view. He swallowed some of it down and tasted the bitter salt and slight tang of blood. The lens flipped again. Peeta's head throbbed like it had been bashed over with a skillet. The mutt's blood wasn't red. It was green. Why was there so much red. Peeta couldn't get his head on straight. He was having trouble digesting all his memories. It was a jumble of pain and aggression and cold, calculation. Then the curtain of crimson parted and floating before Peeta was Beetee's mangled body. His face was lifeless and pale; his eyes frozen in a permanent look of horror; his chest littered with puncture marks. But what made Peeta scream and kick for the surface, towards the light, to escape—he had to escape because it wasn't true, it couldn't be! But there was no denying it. It hung in the water before him like a waterlogged ghost.

The arrow Peeta used as a weapon was embedded deep in the soft flesh of Beetee's stomach. Fire coursed through his veins and seared him to his very core, forever scaring him. A mangled scream ripped from Peeta's throat and bubbled out into the water, but it was too late. No one could save him now. Not from what he'd done.

Peeta had murdered Beetee.

Um… reviews? Comments? Venting rants?

Love you all!

-Crobb07