If I don't accept the offer, then I will most certainly put Prim's life in danger. If I do, then I'll be expected to bear children and essentially raise them up for slaughter. But the immediacy of the former situation made it more menacing than the latter. At least in the second situation I would have time to devise an effective plan. So I would have to accept the offer, if only to buy me more time.
"Yes," I whispered in a tone that was barely audible.
"Do I have your word on that?"
"You do," I stated more clearly this time.
"Excellent. Now, Katniss, will you please be so kind as to extend your right arm?"
I tentatively outstretched my arm in his direction, wondering what he was intending to do with it. Did he force people to sign contracts with their own blood? Or worse, did he drink the blood of his victims? Perhaps that is why he reeked of the vile scent, and its odor only grew stronger every time he opened his mouth to speak.
I held my arm out, trying to keep it steady and willing it not to shake. I waited for the President to act, partially expecting him to lunge at me and sink his teeth into my skin. But he merely leaned back further into the cushion of his armchair, as though he were waiting for something to happen.
Suddenly, the Peacekeeper at the end of the room began to stir. He silently made his way over to my chair and grabbed a hold of my outstretched arm and rolled up the sleeve of my shirt up to my elbow. The other Peacekeeper that stood guard behind my chair inched closer to the fireplace and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a glimmer of the metallic instrument he held in his hand.
The Peacekeeper on my left tightened his hold around my wrist, and with his free hand, he gripped my shoulders, pinning me down against the chair. My eyes fell on the object the second Peacekeeper held in his hand as he lifted it from the fire. It was a long metal rod with a flat circular end that glowed bright red from the contact with the flames now thrashing in the fireplace. I automatically knew what the device was used for and my eyes widened with fear. I wanted to scream but compelled myself to keep silent, instead digging my fingernails into the shards of wood in my chair. I couldn't let myself show them any sign of fear.
The Peacekeeper to my right slowly lowered the instrument in his hand and the instant it made contact with my arm, I could feel the scalding sensation of the metal burning my skin. I winced and gritted my teeth to bear the pain. Over the sizzling sound of my skin melting I heard a soft cackling noise escape from President Snow's direction.
Finally, after a several moments of intense agony, I felt the metal rod being lifted from my skin. I slowly opened my eyes and saw that the burn mark left on my skin was shaped in the form of the nation's emblem, the circular symbol of Panem, which was now stamped on my forearm.
"A token of our agreement," President Snow explained.
He leaned forward and stood up. "This will be our last conference, I'm afraid. But do keep in mind, Mrs. Mellark, we'll be watching you." He fixed his beady, snake like eyes on me for the last time before he turned to leave, with his guards close at his heel.